Wrenching Fate

by Brooklyn Ann

  “Why don’t you pay Silas back for his bluntness and just ask him?” Akasha suggested, avoiding the question as well as Xochitl’s probing gaze. She didn’t like where this was going. Silas had been very adamant on the subject of concealing his secrets. Hopefully, he or Razvan could come up with a plausible lie.

  Xochitl grinned. “Maybe I will. Was I right, though? Are they mob guys?”

  Akasha shook her head and lit a cigarette. “Not exactly.” She sat on the bed next to her friend and patted her shoulder awkwardly as she changed the subject. “It’s gonna be okay, ‘Xoch.”

  “You don’t hate me now because I’m not human, do you?” Xochitl’s eyes were soft and pleading. “‘Cuz I’d totally understand if you do.”

  Akasha managed a small but sincere smile. “No, I don’t hate you. Why would you ever think that?”

  Xochitl looked away as if she didn’t hear her. “I think that’s why most people don’t like me. It’s like they can smell that I’m different, not one of them. People turned away from me in revulsion and called me a freak even before I started dressing Goth. Everyone hated me, except my mom, Sylvis and a few friends…like you. In fact,” she said contemplatively. “A lot of people seem to be scared of me.”

  A wave of sadness washed over Akasha for her friend. How lonely it must have been for her! It had to have been worse than devastating for her when her mom died, the only other one of her kind.

  “What’s being scared like, ‘Kash?” Xochitl asked suddenly.

  “It’s kind of a sick feeling,” Akasha answered automatically. “Like your stomach dropped into your feet and your heart’s climbing up your throat while at the same time it’s attempting to pound itself out of your chest…and all the while you’re paralyzed and your nerve endings can’t decide whether you’re hot or cold.”

  “Whoa,” Xochitl breathed. “That sounds like ultimate suckiness. Do I really affect people that way?”

  Akasha shook her head. “I doubt it. If you did, they’d run away at the sight of you. I was talking about complete terror. Maybe you just make people nervous.”

  Xochitl nodded, digesting the information. “So do people get that way when they see spiders or are up high and stuff?”

  “If that’s what they’re afraid of, I guess.” She shrugged. “I’m not bothered by either.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Xochitl asked quietly, taking a deep drag of her cigarette.

  Akasha hesitated before answering quietly, “Guns.”

  Xochitl’s eyes widened. “I kinda figured as much after you freaked at the sight of mine. Is it like Sylvis and Aurora’s phobia of clowns? Or did you have a bad experience with them?”

  “My parents were shot in front of me when I was little.” She shivered and took another sip of beer before giving a brief rundown of the story.

  Yet again Xochitl had gotten another secret out of her. Is this what true friendship is like? Confessing secrets and feeling relieved at sharing the burden?

  Something scratched at Akasha’s newly replaced sliding glass door. The both jumped. Xochitl giggled like she always did when her startle reflex was triggered. Akasha wondered if it tickled.

  Cautiously, Akasha approached the door, fists clenched in readiness for bad news. She opened the curtains with such force they tore at the edges. Her breath whooshed out in relief. It was Isis.

  “Look who’s here.” Akasha let the kitten in. Isis meowed loudly and bolted into the room and jumped on the bed, purring and rubbing on Xochitl. Xochitl smiled and purred back.

  “Maybe you’re part cat.” Akasha commented.

  Xochitl shook her head. “No, my mom wasn’t. She bonded with children…of all species.”

  Akasha blinked and lit another cigarette. “Bonded?”

  “Yeah. She told me that people like us have a part of nature that we bond with, or have a special relationship with. Cats are mine. They come to me when I need them. Children were drawn to my mom. That’s why she was such a good preschool teacher.” She stroked Isis’s fur softly. “So you’re a mutant, huh?”

  Akasha smiled and flicked her cigarette in the ashtray. “I guess so.”

  “So, we’re like X-men!” Xochitl grinned. “Only our comic would be so much better.”

  They laughed a bit over that but quieted when they heard Silas and Razvan come up the stairs.

  “Are you guys Mafia?” Xochitl asked the second the door opened. Razvan and Silas looked at each other and burst out laughing, covering their mouths to hide their fangs. Razvan stalked closer to the bed, still chuckling. He sounded like a bad Dracula.

  “Do we really appear to be that nefarious to you, my dear?” he said, stroking his beard like a cartoon villain.

  Xochitl eyed him warily. “Sometimes.”

  Silas put his arm around Akasha and whispered into her mind. We’re going to try to put her in a trance and ask her about that world with the two moons and that man she dreams about.

  The two vampires leaned closer to Xochitl and captured her gaze. Immediately her eyes took on a feverish glint as she focused on them intently.

  “Where is that place with the silver and gold moons?” Silas asked.

  Xochitl replied in an eerie monotone. “I don’t know. I go there in my dreams. The sun died there…”

  Akasha and Razvan exchanged looks. A dying sun? She mouthed. What the fuck?

  “Who is the man?” Silas continued; tapping Razvan on the shoulder to keep him focused.

  “The dark man… He comes to me almost every night. I don’t know what he wants.” Xochitl blinked and the glaze left as her mind broke free. “So, really,” she said brightly. “What are you guys?”

  Razvan laughed. “If we told you, we’d have to kill you.”

  Silas rolled his eyes. “We’re merely eccentrics who dabble in anything interesting. Now, where were you and your friends planning on launching your music career?”

  It was a blatant change of subject. Akasha was surprised when Xochitl took it. “Well, I wanted to go to New Orleans, but Sylvis said we’d probably have better luck in Seattle. It’s closer anyway.”

  “Very good.” Razvan nodded briskly. “I may have some contacts in that area who could possibly help Rage of Angels get a start.”

  They talked for a while longer about the band and its chances for success before Akasha ordered them out of the room so Xochitl could get some sleep.

  “I’ll be back in a few to check on you, okay?”

  Xochitl gave her a bleary smile and buried her face in her cat’s fur.

  After Akasha followed the vampires and closed the door behind them, Silas whispered, “I know about that other world…I just didn’t think about it until she mentioned the dying sun. It was part of the prophecy Selena stole from Delgarias!”

  Razvan looked skeptical. “Even if we were to track down Delgarias, it would be a tough explanation for the Elders to swallow. Still, I’m going to document our discussion with Xochitl and send it immediately with the rest of my report. But now I need to return to Spokane. I’ve neglected my business for too long.” When they reached the bottom of the steps, he embraced Silas and kissed Akasha on both cheeks. His mustache and goatee tickled her face. “I wish you two the best,” he said, and then he was gone.

  “Now what?” Akasha asked, suddenly worried.

  Silas looked down at her gravely. “Now we pray.”

  ***

  The Elders and their advisors skimmed their copies of Razvan’s report on Silas McNaught, Lord of Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho, United States. They commenced closing arguments moments later.

  The Lord of London held the opinion that McNaught was innocent of any conspiracy to overthrow the power balance. He’d known the Scot for a few centuries and pointed out to the others that Silas was wont to act on impulse quite frequently. Marking five teenagers was a foolish thing indeed, but the justification for it was plain in the report. Many nodded in agreement.

  “But what of the inhuman girl?” the Lord of Berlin b
rought up. “She can make fire on command. It would make her a powerful weapon in anyone’s hands. And the fact that she is still an unknown species indicates that many of her powers are probably untapped.”

  “Are you saying you do not believe this Xochitl is the daughter of Mephistopheles?” the Lord of Bangladesh inquired with a raised brow.

  The German vampire laughed derisively. “I think it is complete silliness and fabrication.”

  There was much muttering in agreement. Others protested that McNaught never showed a hint of ambition or undue violence to his peers. A volatile creature such as Xochitl was probably safest in his peaceable hands.

  “You all forget his pet mortal, the mutant,” the Lord of Moscow interjected. “Agents of her country’s government are looking for her. That is our biggest threat. If they catch her she could reveal everything about our kind.”

  “But Nicolae’s report states clearly that the government is close to giving up on her,” the Lord of London protested. “It seems we should be discussing how to be sure she stays hidden. Damn impetuous Scot, he shouldn’t have become involved with such a liability in the first place!” He pounded his fist on his podium.

  The debate lasted for hours. Many of the ancient Lords began to glance at the clock gauging the hours they had left to retire to their lairs before daylight hit. They were deadlocked with half of them wanting McNaught punished and the other half wanting him chastised but left alone.

  Finally the Lord of Pisa, advisor to the Lord of Rome, swayed enough of them to come to a decision. Many listened to her, for she’d spent a measure of time with Silas after he’d taken his vengeance on the English. It was she who’d stopped him from affecting crucial battles that could have changed history for the worst.

  The votes were cast. A runner was sent to America to deliver their decision.

  Chapter Thirty

  Akasha was so happy she almost skipped down the hall after finishing her meeting with her student advisor. Her application was accepted. She’d gotten into the automotive program at the college. Only about twenty students were taken in every year. She’d been afraid she wouldn’t be accepted because she was a woman. Now that worry was over. Her mind raced in eagerness to go through the tool list and see what she had left to get.

  She hummed AC/DC’s “Have a Drink on Me” and headed toward the parking lot. Finals had been a breeze and summer vacation had arrived, at least for her, Xochitl and Sylvis. Poor Aurora and Beau had another month left. But they’d all be together then for the graduation ceremony.

  The sun warmed her immediately. She frowned. Spring was coming and the nights would get even shorter. Silas wouldn’t be able to get up for hours yet. But at least she could spend every night in entirety with him during summer vacation until college started. By then the days of hiding her love for Silas would be over.

  Of course, there really wouldn’t be anyone left to hide it from by that time anyway. Xochitl and the band were moving to Seattle soon after graduation. That is, if the Lord of that city was agreeable. Silas had just sent the request. If it was denied, they were screwed. Akasha had no idea how they could go about changing the band’s minds about moving.

  “Son of a bitch!” she growled when she spotted her car.

  Her precious Roadrunner was totally wedged in. On the passenger side was a yuppie-ass BMW and on the driver’s side was an ugly yellow cargo truck that was like four inches from touching her door.

  “Gonna need a fucking can opener to get out,” she grumbled and caressed the Roadrunner’s dark green side panels, checking for dents and yellow paint.

  A sharp pain erupted in her neck. Akasha reached up and felt a hand. She grabbed it and squeezed, feeling bones crunch sickeningly under her fingers. Someone cried out in agony and was hushed by his accomplices. What the fuck! There was something in her neck. She shivered in revulsion and yanked it out. It was a hypodermic needle.

  Oh shit! They shot me up with something! She whipped around to face her attackers, her heart leaping into her throat. Four men in black uniforms faced her, one cradling his hand and glaring. It was the COAT.

  Akasha lunged forward to attack the men. But then the drug kicked in. The COAT soldiers disappeared from her vision as asphalt rushed to meet her face. She tried to brace herself for the impact but her body refused to obey.

  Hands grasped her arms. Suddenly, the ground fled from her as she was lifted and pulled through a hole in the side of the yellow truck’s cargo box. It was lit up inside like NASA’s command center. She found herself strapped to a table with thick steel manacles. They got her. They finally got her. A quote from “The Princess Bride” seemed appropriate at the moment.

  My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

  She had no idea if she said that aloud or not, but it didn’t matter. The lights and monitors inside the truck turned into the most captivating starry galaxy and she was sucked inside.

  ***

  Silas awoke with a sense of foreboding so strong he began to hyperventilate the moment he leapt out of bed. He leaned against the wall and tried to steady his racing heart as the hunger blasted within from a dull ache to a roaring inferno. His nerve endings vibrated with dread.

  Something is wrong, very wrong.

  He reached out with his sixth sense, but the bloodlust was too overpowering to be able to determine anything specific.

  He flew up the stairs so fast his hand cracked the door when he halted to open it. The house was quiet and nearly all the lights were off on the main floor. That wasn’t unusual, since Akasha was concerned with saving electricity when she was out. He hoped she would get home soon.

  As he flipped on the lights one by one as if the illumination could dispel the unease, he tried again to focus his powers to discover the source of his bad feeling. But no visions came, not even an image that could give him a minute clue. Silas focused on his Mark with Akasha…and felt nothing. He sucked in a breath as his heart froze in his ribcage.

  Where is she?

  A knock at the door shattered the silence. Muttering a small prayer for good news, Silas smoothed his hair and clothes so he wouldn’t resemble a vagrant and opened the door.

  “Here you are, my Lord.” A century-old British vampire handed him an envelope before bowing and strutting away.

  With great effort, Silas suppressed a snarl. This wasn’t one of his vampires and the intruder had to have been resting nearby to have gotten here so quickly. It seemed he would be having a talk with his subordinates who were supposed to be keeping an eye out for this sort of thing.

  A thought stopped him short. There was only one faction of vampires who would dare insult him by not informing him of a coming visitor. He looked at the missive in his hand and shuddered, his veins filling with ice.

  The elaborate black embossed envelope appeared to be an invitation to an exclusive ball, but Silas knew better. Indeed it was an exclusive invitation, but not a frivolous or desirable one. His bad feeling had been confirmed.

  The Elders had responded. With shaky fingers, he removed the ribbon from the missive. A single eye ensconced within two scrolls was their symbol of office. The eye seemed to glare at him balefully. He unfolded the thick parchment and read:

  May 11th

  Silas McNaught, Lord of Coeur d’ Alene, United States:

  You are hereby summoned for the purpose of a discussion regarding your case. You are commanded to bring the following mortals: Akasha Hope and Xochitl Leonine.

  You will report to our Headquarters in Amsterdam at ten o’clock p.m. on May Fourteenth.

  Any attempts to disregard this summons or disobey any part of our instructions will be perceived as an admission of guilt and you will be sentenced accordingly.

  We appreciate your cooperation.

  The missive was signed by all Elders but the thirteenth. Delgarias was still gone.

  “Fucking son of a bitch!” Silas shouted, borrowing from Akasha’s vocabulary.

  Fury roared thr
ough him. Fury, and terror. If the Elders harmed one curly hair on Akasha’s head, he would take as many of them down as he could. Hell, he would do his damnedest to persuade Xochitl to burn them all.

  Silas strode to the living room and tossed the summons on an end table, wishing he could throw it into the fire and never think of it again. Slumping on the couch, he cradled his head in his hands as the dread washed over him.

  What was to become of them? The panic and hunger warred within him, tearing him apart. Perhaps it was best that Akasha wasn’t home yet. He didn’t want her to see him like this.

  Silas clenched his teeth as the bloodlust howled once more within. He needed to feed, needed time to clear his head of the overwhelming sense of foreboding. Afterward, he prayed he could process this situation and come up with a glimmer of hope.

  The monster within him roared in triumph at the prospect of satiation as he headed out to the garage and fired up his Barracuda.

  Hands gripping the steering wheel, he coasted down the hill in search of a meal. Luckily, he sighted his prey behind a grocery store. A greasy, emaciated man stood in the shadows, waiting to sell corruption and despair in plastic baggies to his hapless victims. Silas fed quickly, relishing the taste of blood, but hating the man’s stench.

  He gave the miscreant a mental command to flush his wares and seek honest work and added a psychic push to quell the brain’s addiction centers before releasing him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

  The blood cleared his head some, but the dread remained heavy. He purchased a case of beer for Akasha, hoping with all of his being that she would be around to drink it, and headed home. He wanted to see Akasha, hold her a wee bit before he told her the bad news.

  The house was just as quiet as he’d left it. The sense of foreboding grew every minute. Akasha’s absence was palpable and he was still unable to feel their Mark. He frowned at the clock which read ten-thirty. She always came home before this time on school nights. He searched the house for a note, nervousness clawing his heart when he didn’t find one. He tried her cell phone, praying she remembered to bring it and that it wasn’t dead.