He sighed, “Which do you think is more deadly? Spiders or vampires?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know the statistics on vampires, but one out of…”
“Rose, get inside,” Kallias interrupted. “We don’t have time to waste.”
Rose sighed in defeat and stepped inside the small, dusty room. She turned on the phone’s flashlight and grimaced as Kallias shut the door. She stared worriedly at the spider webs that hung from every broom, mop, and corner.
“Okay, spiders,” she whispered after he disappeared. “I know scientists don’t believe that you are sentient creatures, but I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and make one teensy-weensy request, okay? Please don’t bite me.”
11
Vampire Roadkill
“I don’t know why Theron insisted that you come along. I could’ve done the job easily enough by myself,” complained a man with a New Jersey accent.
He leaned against the wall in a dark alley behind a closed lunch café. His baggy blue jeans and oversized black hoodie hung loosely over his slender body. His dirty blonde hair was gathered at the nape of his neck in a low ponytail. He held a cigarette to his mouth and lit it with a small blue lighter as he spoke.
The other man who stood in that dark alley shot a look of disdain and disgust at the man who had spoken. This second man’s clothing contrasted greatly with the loose, unkempt clothing of the man who had spoken. While the first man looked almost natural, hanging around in a dark, secluded alley, this man stuck out like a sore thumb. He wore black dress slacks and a pressed, close-fitting white button-down shirt, buttoned all the way to the collar, where a black tie rested, clipped perfectly to his shirt. His hair fell close to his head in short black ringlets. He looked more like someone who had gotten lost on his way to a formal banquet than someone hiding in the shadows of a dark, dirty alleyway.
“He obviously considered you too incompetent,” the man sneered.
“Don’t know why,” the first man said, blowing out a mouthful of smoke.
“You’re a baby vampire,” the other man said. “Babies need a babysitter.”
The “baby” vampire scowled at the other vampire. “I’ve been a vampire for fifty-seven years already. I’d be getting a senior discount if I was human.”
“But you are not human,” the second vampire stated.
“What is so important about this human girl anyway?” the younger vampire asked, white smoke falling out of his mouth with every word he spoke.
The older vampire wrinkled his long, straight nose as the scent of cigarette smoke overwhelmed his senses. “Why are you smoking that?”
The first vampire shrugged. “Human habit.”
“But you are not human,” the other vampire said again.
The younger vampire blew out a ring of thick smoke. “Sure. But now, I can smoke all I want, and it can’t even kill me. So, why bother quitting?”
“Because it smells disgusting,” the second vampire snarled.
The first vampire ignored him and inhaled the cigarette again.
“Well, are you going to put it out or not?” the older vampire asked.
The younger vampire glanced down at the long white cigarette. “I still have half the cigarette left,” he complained. “I’ll put it out when I’m done.”
The older vampire’s dark eyes narrowed. “Let me rephrase the question,” he growled. “If you don’t put that disgusting thing out, I will burn off your face.”
The first vampire froze, paling at the other vampire’s threat. He quickly tossed the cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his tennis shoe. “Happy?”
“Mildly,” the other vampire muttered.
The first vampire sighed, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a snob?”
“Most are smart enough not to,” the second vampire answered.
The first vampire glanced nervously at the older, more powerful vampire.
The other vampire sniffed the air, frowning. “Do you smell that?”
The younger vampire crossed his arms and looked away, clearly pouting. “I get it. The cigarette stinks. I put it out already. Give it a rest,” he grumbled.
“Not the cigarette, idiot,” the second vampire hissed. “The blood.”
The younger vampire froze, his green eyes widening as he noticed the scent of dried blood. Sweet, powerful blood. “Do you think it’s her?” he whispered.
“How would I know?” the older vampire asked, rolling his eyes. “Go find the human and bring her here. I will call Theron so that he can check.”
“Why do I always have to do the dirty work?” the first vampire groaned.
—
What little bit of light Rose had left dissolved into total darkness when the phone gave its last dying beep. She sighed irritably at the phone’s betrayal and slid it into her back pocket as she continued to wait in the dusty storage closet for Kallias to return. The longer she waited, the more she wondered why she’d agreed with this ridiculous plan in the first place. She wasn’t the type of person to hide. The thought made her cringe…or maybe that was the cobweb that brushed her shoulder… She shuddered in disgust and tapped her foot impatiently.
Rose jumped as she felt someone touch her shoulder. She squealed and spun around, wrapping her hands around the person’s arm. But it didn’t feel like an arm. It felt like wood…cracked, splintered wood that left tiny fragments of wood in her hand. She ran her fingers along the wooden handle, rolling her eyes at her overreaction as she realized it was a broom. She propped it against the wall.
Just as her pulse began to slow to its usual pace, the closet door swung open. Rose spun around, paling as she found herself face-to-face with a stranger.
His green eyes assessed her, lingering on her tattered, bloodied clothing. “What are you doing in there, human?” he asked, his voice deep and accented.
“Debating philosophy with the spiders,” Rose said.
The man’s eyebrows lifted. “Hmm. And why are you covered in blood?”
She winced. “The spiders got violent?”
He frowned at her. “You don’t lie very good.”
“Well,” Rose said.
“Huh?” the vampire asked with a puzzled scowl.
“It’s well, not good. Good is an adjective. Well is an adverb,” she explained. “You should have said, ‘You don’t lie well,’ instead of ‘You don’t lie good.’”
The vampire stared at her in disbelief. Finally, he shrugged. “Whatever,” he muttered as he grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the closet. “Come on.”
She tried to pull her arm free, even though it hurt. “Let go of me!”
“You know,” the vampire mused, “if I pull too hard on your arm, it’ll tear right off. I learned that the hard way a couple of times. Those were some messy situations.” He grimaced at the memory. “Anyway, I would suggest you stop fighting before that happens. No one said I had to bring you in one piece.”
She froze, the blood draining from her face at the threat.
“I would suggest that you step away from her,” snarled a familiar voice.
The vampire and Rose both turned to look behind them, in the direction of the voice. A tall, lean silhouette stood in the shadows near the end of the alley.
The vampire scowled at the figure. “Who are you?”
“You’re a little late, don’t you think?” Rose complained loudly.
Kallias stepped forward, and even though he ignored her, she noticed his lips twitch, as if he’d wanted to smile. “I am Kallias,” he said to the vampire. “I am a twenty-five-hundred-year-old vampire from Ancient Greece. And you are Robert Hickerson, a seventy-seven-year-old vampire from New Jersey.”
The vampire’s grip loosened on her arm. “How do you know that?”
Kallias couldn’t have looked more relaxed. His hands hung by his sides, his shoulders slumped, and his expression was a picture of complete boredom. He took another step forward, and as the faint orange glow of the st
reetlights danced across the red bloodstains on his face, he looked even more dangerous than usual. His brown eyes studied the vampire with an unnerving intensity.
“I know a lot about you, Robbie,” Kallias said, using the vampire’s old human nickname. “I know that you are the same coward today as you were when you were human. You spent your entire human life afraid of other humans, and now, you spend your vampire life afraid of older vampires. Well, Robbie, I’m a twenty-five-hundred-year-old vampire. Do the math. You don’t want to face me.”
“I’m not a coward!” Robert spat. “And I won’t fall for your mind games.”
Kallias shrugged. “I am only repeating what you’re thinking.”
Rose felt the vampire’s fingers trembling against her arm.
“You’re a telepath,” Robert gasped. His skin paled at the realization. “But…I thought that psychic ability thing was just a myth. A scary story.”
“You still have a lot to learn, Robbie,” Kallias said sympathetically.
Robert swallowed nervously. “Why do you care about the human?”
“The better question is: Why does Theron care about her? Theron doesn’t need to kill her. He just wants to kill her,” Kallias said. “Robbie, I know you don’t enjoy murdering innocent humans. You can still walk away from this.”
“I’m a vampire,” Robert snarled. “I have killed hundreds of humans.”
Kallias shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you enjoy it.”
Robert sighed, “If I let her go, Theron will kill me.”
“And if you don’t, I will kill you,” Kallias warned. “Pick your poison.”
The sudden change in Kallias’s tone caused Robert to take a step back and drop Rose’s arm instinctually. “Marius, we have a problem!” he yelled, hoping for the older vampire’s help. He grabbed an old, gray pistol from his belt. He pointed it at Kallias, his finger trembling on the trigger. “Leave, or I’ll shoot you.”
“I’m not afraid of a gun,” Kallias muttered. “Just run. I will let you go.”
Robert stared at him for a moment, as if considering the suggestion. But then, his expression hardened. He pressed his shaky finger against the trigger. “If you really can read my mind, then, you already know what I’m going to do.”
Kallias turned his attention toward Rose. “Run,” he told her.
Rose glanced at the gun, noticing the way Robert’s finger pressed against the trigger, and she panicked. She ducked into the closet and grabbed the broom, ignoring the spider webs that tugged at it. Before Robert could pull the trigger, Rose swung the broomstick at his head, and the handle hit him with a loud thud.
Robert staggered and grasped his head as blood trickled from a small cut along his brow. He spun toward her with a feral, blood-curdling growl and snatched the broom from her hand. The handle splintered into several pieces under his harsh grip. Then, he grabbed her torn shirt and pulled her against him.
Rose gulped nervously as he bared his fangs at her, a terrifying growl sounding from his throat. She gasped as his hand wrapped around her throat.
Just as she thought the vampire would kill her, she suddenly felt hot, sticky blood spray across her face. She stood there, frozen in shock, as the vampire’s head slid off of his shoulders, hitting the ground with a thud. His headless body followed it to the ground. Behind the dismembered body of the vampire stood Kallias, still clutching the blood-covered dagger that had decapitated the vampire. Hundreds of tiny drops of wet blood covered his face and neck, evidence of the kill that had happened too rapidly for Rose to see.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Kallias said. “He would have killed you.”
“Yeah,” Rose managed to choke out, her blue eyes still wide with shock.
“I heard you were dead,” said a sharp voice behind Kallias.
Kallias turned toward the source of the voice. “You know who I am?”
Rose leaned over to the side so that she could see around Kallias’s tower of a body. Behind Kallias, near the well-lit street, a man stood under the streetlight, apparently unconcerned with drawing attention. Inky black curls set neatly on top of his head, and his dark complexion and dark eyes seemed at odds with the bright light behind him. He looked strange, she thought, standing near that dirty alleyway in his perfectly pressed white button-down shirt and black tie.
“I know that you are Greek,” the vampire answered. His lip curled into an unflattering grimace as he snarled, “I would recognize Greek filth anywhere.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Kallias muttered to Rose. “We’ve run into a Roman.”
Rose’s eyes lit up with excitement. “He’s from the Roman Empire?”
Kallias scowled at her. “Why are you excited about that?”
“I like history,” she said, shrugging sheepishly.
“And I know of only one ancient Greek still alive, aside from Theron, of course,” the vampire continued, glaring at them for their interruption, “which means you must be Kallias of Athens, the traitorous vampire that has been protecting a human. Theron told me all about you. But…he said that you died.”
Kallias shrugged. “A misunderstanding.”
“Apparently,” the vampire sneered.
“Technically, Theron was partially right,” Rose pointed out. “I mean, all of you vampires were dead once.” She shrugged. “Or so I was told, anyway.”
“Why is the human speaking?” the vampire asked Kallias.
“I don’t know,” Kallias said dryly. “It must be a factory defect.”
“The human has a name,” Rose told the vampire, “just so you know.”
The vampire didn’t even look at her. His narrowed black eyes remained on Kallias, full of hatred and disgust. “Make your human shut up, or I will.”
“His human?” Rose repeated. “He doesn’t own me.”
“I think you’re underestimating how difficult it is to shut her up,” Kallias said, earning a murderous glare from Rose. He offered her a smirk in return.
When she realized that the vampire was refusing to acknowledge her, she turned toward Kallias with a sigh, “Tell him I’m not your human.”
Kallias didn’t take his eyes off of the vampire, but a smile curved at his lips. “He knows you’re not my human, Rose. He’d smell the bond, if you were.”
She frowned. “Wait. What?” she muttered bewilderedly.
“At least, if she were, you’d have a halfway decent reason for protecting her,” the vampire said to Kallias, apparently only willing to speak to him. “As it is, you have no claim over her. So, you should hand her over, or at least step aside.”
“Theron has no claim over her either,” Kallias pointed out.
Rose scowled at both of them. “No one has claim over me.”
“That’s what I just said,” Kallias grumbled.
“That is irrelevant,” the vampire said in response to Kallias’s argument, still ignoring Rose’s interruptions. “You still have no reason to protect her.”
“I have a reason,” Kallias said, “but it’s not one you would understand.”
“You’re a traitor,” the vampire spat, glancing pointedly at the headless corpse lying on the ground. “You choose humans over your own kind.”
“I chose an innocent person over a murderer,” Kallias corrected.
“Say it how you want,” the vampire snarled. “You’re still a traitor.”
Kallias shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
“When I was human, I crucified people like you,” the vampire bragged.
“That must have taken so much courage,” Kallias snarled, his words laced with deep sarcasm. “Torturing someone while they’re helpless. You know, I’d wondered why someone with such an obvious disdain for Greeks would choose to work for Theron since he is, of course, Greek. But now, I understand. You are just like Theron. You’re a coward. You like to prey on the weak.”
Rose watched Kallias apprehensively as she noticed his body language changing. That relaxed, smug countenance he’d had b
efore was gone. She watched as his back and shoulders stiffened, his jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened. A chill ran down her spine as she realized how dangerous he looked, especially covered in blood the way he was. She felt as if she could see the darker part of him, the monster, lurking just beneath the surface, barely restrained.
The vampire shrugged. “Theron offered me what I want. That doesn’t make him a companion. It makes him a stepping stone, as all of you Greeks are.”
Rose glared at the vampire. “Wow, could you be any more prejudiced?”
For the first time, the vampire actually looked at her, his dark eyes narrowing in disgust. “No one asked for your opinion, human,” he sneered.
“Well, I guess that answers that question,” she muttered.
“If you say another word, I’ll rip your tongue out,” the vampire snarled.
Kallias suddenly stepped in front of her, putting himself between the vampire and her. “If you even touch her,” he countered, “I will rip you apart.”
Rose blinked, shocked that he’d jumped in front of her. Throughout her entire life, only one other person had ever defended her. It had been her brother.
The vampire cocked his head to the side, his dark eyes studying Kallias. “Theron told me about this…about how you seem to have a fixation with this human…this strange concern over her well-being. I see that he was right about that.” A sickening smile curved at the vampire’s lips. “He told me a lot of things about you, actually. He even told me the story of how he killed your wife.”
Rose’s breath caught in her throat. She glanced sympathetically at Kallias, but she could only see his back and the position of his shoulders. From what she could see, he didn’t give any indication that the comment had affected him. He just continued to stare coldly at the other vampire, ready to attack at any moment.
“Oh, how sweet,” Kallias muttered. A bitter, mocking smile curved at his lips. “Do you two braid each other’s hair while you trade murder stories?”
The Stone of the Eklektos Page 30