by OL Ramos
Chapter 7
Michael looks at me without shifting his attention. In reality, he’s staring at me, looking not at me, but through me. He’s searching inside me and I can feel his probing. He’s somehow testing me with his gaze.
“The ring isn’t a what,” he says after what seems like an eternity of silence. “The ring is more of a collective of whom. But more than that, I can’t specify.”
I rush into his chest as quickly as I can. I can feel my tears flowing freely now. I am completely desperate and confused. I had felt betrayed from the moment Vincent began speaking to me. But now, I have Michael face-to-face with me and he is flat-out refusing a simple request.
“You made me think the worst,” I declare in between my sobbing. I’m angry. Angry at him and at myself. I never wanted to feel like this or to let anyone take me away from my mission of finding my mother. And here he is, a knight in shining armor, ready to prove to me that I didn’t imagine the tragedy that happened so long ago that robbed me of a mother. Yet with all his answers, he will not help me.
“I’m sorry Liz,” he whispers softly as he lowers his head.
“No, you don’t get to apologize,” I argue fiercely. “You disappeared. You’re the one that made me feel guilty and afraid. Then I open myself up to you, and you know all of these things about what has been haunting me my whole, entire life. Do you know how many times I wondered if I was crazy? You know how many times I’ve asked just what the hell took my mother away? For all I know it could have been a werewolf! So you don’t get to apologize! Not while I’m here giving you everything, telling you everything that’s on my mind. All the while you know everything I need to know and you’re keeping it to yourself. So not only do I reject your apology, but I might as well reject you. I’m sure Vincent will tell me everything I want to know!”
Michael places both of his hands on my shoulder before raising my face up with his hand. His expression shows serious concern.
“Vincenzo is very dangerous,” he explains calmly. “He doesn’t see humans as equals. He sees humans as less than cattle. I can’t control you, and I’ve never been the one to try to control others. But I…I care about you Liz. And Vincenzo would destroy that. He would manipulate you to his advantage, and after doing that, he would have me at his whim. If that happens, I can’t handle this situation the way I think is best.” He waits on my response with bated breath.
“He showed me more respect than cattle,” I protest as I recall the encounter. “There is something arrogant about him, but he wasn’t being overly disrespectful with me.”
“You’re…attracted to him?” Michael asks with disappointment on his face.
“I didn’t say that,” I respond immediately. “I was just trying to tell you, the guy’s a big jerk. But I still bet if I ask him nicely enough, he’ll tell me everything I want to know. Do you deny that?”
“And how would you contact him? Did you forget that little important part of your sinister plan?”
“Actually no,” I say sarcastically, celebrating a small victory. “I didn’t notice until I got in my car, but Vincent must have slipped his phone number in my pocket. I don’t think he would do that to just any old cow, do you?”
“These are all a part of Vincenzo’s games,” he explains with frustration clear in his tone. “He is desperate and afraid, but this is all a part of him trying to cope with that. He also might be trying to get under my skin because he knows how I feel about you.”
I recoil away from him in shock.
“Wait, are you saying that it’s just impossible for him to be truly interested in me?” I ask as I feel a veiled insult being subtly thrown at me.
“No, that’s not all that it is,” Michael says as he shakes his head as if trying to unscramble the jumbled thoughts in his brain. “I’ve known Vincenzo for over five hundred years. I know him. This is all a part of his plan. Think about it Liz. I know you’re a smart young woman. I wouldn’t lie to you. Why would he slip you his phone number like that? Because he knew he couldn’t give it to you overtly; you would reject it. Why did he give it to you to begin with right after shaking your faith in me? He knew you would feel betrayed and confused. He probably was hoping to get you to contact him while you were at your most vulnerable so he could manipulate you to his own ends. And if he had you, he knows he would have me.”
“Are you saying his only interest today was in controlling you?” I quip back immediately.
“Not at all,” he responds just as fast back to me. “I do know it’s not a coincidence you met him today and we’re having this disagreement.”
“Michael, I know you’re not telling me everything,” I announce, tired of the back and forth. “And I don’t mean about the ring. You want to compliment me on how intelligent I am, yet you treat me like a child. Why does he want control over me? I get the distinct feeling you’re honor-bound to Vincent; it’s just the kind of guy you are. I saw you talking about the Russian and vampires. I saw the way your eyes looked when you spoke about protecting the balance. Vincent isn’t the only one hiding something in his heart, you are too. He’s your friend; are you ashamed of that?”
“No, I’m not ashamed to admit it,” Michael says slowly. “Most would consider this a travesty, a taboo. But I don’t judge people by what they are or have done in the past. Vincenzo saved my life, in more ways than one.”
“Then why don’t you just meet with him and go along with his plan?” I inquire more fiercely, stepping closer to him. “Why would he have to manipulate me to get my help? If he’s your friend, wouldn’t I be happy to help? You’re suggesting that he is using me to get you to help…that he’s manipulating me and you. Why would he have to do that?”
“It’s not me he needs for his plan to succeed,” Michael’s defenses break down, finally, after a short pause. “He needs you. He just knows that if you’re in danger I’ll come along as well to ensure your safety.”
“With—with me?” I stutter as I turn around and look towards my kitchen. All of the sudden I’ve developed a terrible headache. “Why? What does he want with me?”
I hear Michael’s deep exhale. I feel his warm touch on my shoulder.
“Please, in time,” Michael begins as he rubs my shoulder softly. “I can’t tell you everything right now. I promise you, there will be a day when I tell you everything the moment you ask me. But right now, I have a responsibility I must uphold. If I fail in my responsibility, I jeopardize this entire town and the entire continent. I imagine this must only put you even further into unease. I need you to stay here. As much as you want to, you mustn’t call Vincenzo. He has a way of sneaking into people before they even notice it. If that were to happen to you, that would be…devastating.”
I look deep into Michael’s eyes. I’m trying to feel his heart. Even now his words feel like they have a double meaning. As much as I loved looking into his eyes, I couldn’t stand the hypocrisy any further.
“If you really won’t tell me, then I’m going to ask you to leave,” I announce reluctantly. “I care for you as well Michael, more so than I ever thought I could. But we haven’t even known each other that long, and you’re already keeping major secrets. We’re not talking about common problems that people have. You just finished telling me a completely unbelievable story and I believed every word you said to me. But I can’t trust that you’re doing what’s right for me, not now. You don’t get to make that choice. I’m a big girl; you should respect me more than that. Please, just go.”
I walk towards the front door and open it. I stare at the ground as I lean on the door, waiting for Michael to exit my home. I didn’t know why I feel such closeness with Michael, but I do know that I can’t stand the sight of him right now. For all of his talk about honesty, he’s lying to himself. He just opened my eyes to the real world that existed, and then told me to pretend it wasn’t real. I’m not ready for that.
“You’re right, you do have the right to make your own decisions,” Michael agrees as I
hear him approach the door. I feel him turn to face me but I continue to avoid his stare. “But after being alive for more than half a millennium, I think I can put things in to perspective. I was just hoping you could trust me enough until you absolutely had to know everything. Your world was already broken and traumatized…I simply didn’t want to add any more of a burden to you. Have a good night.”
I see the shadow of his head bow in my direction and watch him leave. I curse at myself silently before I rush out the front door, looking for him. But he’s already gone. It’s just me and the loud, powerful gust of wind bellowing in the air. Unsure of what to do, I go back inside and slam the door shut. I force back my tears. They were tears of frustration, pain and betrayal. But I don’t know why I feel such a maelstrom of emotions. All I know is that I want to think things through and sort out everything that had just been told to me.
I search the pocket of my work uniform and pull out Vincent’s phone number. I look at it as I bite my lip in frustration. I crumple it up into a ball as I run upstairs to my bedroom and throw the small paper ball onto my bed. I walk to the bathroom, wash my face and take a long, hard look at myself.
Any normal person would have been freaking out. Any normal person would have not believed any of what happened tonight. But for some reason, all of it feels real to me. It feels natural, for some reason. I exhale deeply as I plop myself down on my bed next to the balled-up note. I open it up and stare at Vincent’s handwriting, looking at it as if it would offer a clue.
That wasn’t going to help, I decide. So instead I go over the conversation I had with Vincent. He had a way about him all right…as I lay there, playing out the entire day’s events over and over in my head, something keeps nagging at me. At Jack’s Place, Vincent referred to me as a keeper. Twice. I thought that was unusual at the time, but I’d been busy worrying about the two of them fighting.
And wait…Vincent had told Michael “you did come for the keeper.” Had he been referring to me?
In that instant, I manage to do it. Aside from all of Michael’s misgivings and warnings, I manage to talk myself into calling Vincent. A part of me knows it’s wrong, but another part, a part I didn’t even know existed, tells me I have to call him. I deserve to know, I keep telling myself.
I run downstairs and search frantically for my cell phone. When I find it, I fumble a few times before being able to plug in Vincent’s phone number. The phone rings twice before he picks up.
“Hel-hello?” I whisper into my phone, almost too terrified to hold onto the thing. “Is this Vincent?”
“My, if it isn’t the blonde vixen herself,” Vincent replies confidently over the cell. “Why are you calling me at such a late hour? That seems a little unladylike. Or did you and Mikey have a fight?”
“That’s none of your business Vincent,” I spit back at him angrily.
“My, I do seem to have gotten under your skin,” Vincent replies nonchalantly. “Yet here we are, talking on the phone. And with the world’s modern day marvels and caller ID and all of that, I now have your number, too. I guess you’ll just have to change it if you don’t ever want me to reach you now.”
“Somehow, I get the feeling that if you really wanted to find me, you could,” I say, trying to act tougher.
“Ah, but you’re learning,” he answers with a soft chuckle. “So, I guess wolf boy came out of the closet?”
“He did.”
“Aw, but how unfair,” he says, mocking disappointment. “It would seem he outed me from the coffin, so to speak. That should be my breakthrough, not his! Ha, ha…so, what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
“Cut the crap, Vincent,” I order as I become increasingly more bold. “I know about the ring. I just need to know about me. Why do they need me?”
“Do you have any idea who you’re trying to swindle here?” Vincent asks softly, waiting a few seconds before continuing. “I’ve been alive for over a thousand years missy. Did you think I’d be unable to detect a lie after such a long time? It’s a thousand years, Izzy. That’s a long time.”
“How did you know to call me Izzy?” I ask nervously.
“Oh, I have my ways,” he boasts without skipping a beat. “Anyhoo, shall I drop in and pay you a visit? I imagine you have oodles of questions. I can answer all of them, and I don’t hold back.”
“I’m not giving you my address,” I reply pointlessly. I know he probably has it already. If he didn’t use some vampire trick, there was always the internet.
“Wow, you’re the ditzy kind of blonde aren’t you? There’s this new thing, it’s called a search engine. I just type your name in this magical little device called a com-pu-ter, and I can learn everything about you,” he says in a joking tone. “I’m only offering this once. Do you want me to pass by? I’m not busy right now, I can swing in, maybe have a bottle of merlot, make an evening out of it.”
I hesitate. For all his charm and his demeanor that oozes with suave charisma, Vincent really makes me afraid. He isn’t as calm and collected as Michael. But in this short amount of time, I had learned that I was dealing with primordial creatures that used to be spoken about in stories to keep children in their beds at night. I need to learn more.
“Fine, drop on by. Just don’t try anything stupid,” I warn in vain.
I’m answered by a laugh at the other end as I hear Vincent hang up. Literally two minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. I open it to find Vincent there, holding the bottle of merlot he had promised.
“Good evening stranger,” he says playfully with a bright smile on his finely chiseled face. “Brought the merlot, even though I bet you’re too much of a goody-two-shoes to drink it. I figured I would need it to get drunk if you continue this innocent damsel crap.”
“Whatever,” I answer, brushing him off. Even though I only met him today, I feel as if I’ve known him forever. “You’re only here because I need you here.”
“That’s right, booze. You’re only here because I need you here, to put up with this one,” Vincent says as he talks to the bottle before acknowledging me again. “You just going to stand there?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“You don’t read much do you?” Vincent says aloofly as he studies the borders on my front door. “Vampires need to be invited in and all that. It was something put in place so we just couldn’t go around sucking on the townsfolk to death as we pleased.”
I swallow hard as once again the scary truth glares at me from the other side of my front door’s frame. This wasn’t a man, I need to remind myself; he’s a monster.
“Well, I’ve had my fun,” Vincent says as he steps into my home. I gasp in shock and almost fall on my rear before Vincent grabs me. He laughs as he heads into my kitchen and kicks the door behind him.
“But I didn’t invite you in?” I say questioningly. I’m beyond confused.
“I know, I lied,” Vincent says, still laughing. “You don’t need to be invited in. That’s something we made up to make it easier to hunt. You see, in the old days, people thought they were safe as long as they stayed home and didn’t invite any strangers in. In reality, all they were doing was making it easier for us to find them. Our food was waiting for us in a box, all it needed was a nice bright red bow tied around it.”
Vincent continues to chuckle to himself as he searches around my kitchen, opening cupboards as if he’s been here before.
“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” I ask, still affected by the new information.
“We can’t very well drink out of the bottle, can we?” Vincent asks as he peeks his head into one of my higher cupboards. “I assume you do have wine glasses, don’t you? Will you be joining me or will you be wussing out?”
I shake my head. “I’m a minor who is constantly being sent to shrinks all the time,” I report angrily. “I don’t have wine glasses because I don’t drink. And I can’t drink because if I were to drink and get sent to a random drug test, they wou
ld think the reason why I come up with crazy stories about things that go bump in the night is because of the alcohol.”
“There are scary things that go bump in the night?” Vincent says as he stops and drapes himself over one of my kitchen counters. “If that is the case, then I simply must drink. I don’t have the courage our good Michael has. You can watch me if you’d like, I’m a sociable drunk.”
I eye Vincent down as harshly as I can, but I see he is amused by my frustration. I make my way to the living room and turn on the television. Vincent follows me shortly after with a big red plastic cup and his bottle of merlot. He sits down right next to me as if we were familiar.
“Excuse me,” I say, hoping for a little courtesy.
“Oh, please,” he responds. “You’re the one with a bony ass. I think your hipbone is actually digging into my side here.”
I don’t know why, but I slap him. Hard, too. And I really don’t know why, but Vincent just looks at me, smiles, and takes a sip from his plastic cup.
“You look ridiculous. You’re sipping fancy wine from a 20 cent cup,” I say finally, giving up a laugh. “And I don’t have a bony ass. We all can’t have computer generated muscles like you and Michael.”
“I know, you have a perky butt,” he says with a smile as he bites his lower lip. “Not too big; just right actually. And I’m glad to see you’ve noticed I’ve been working out.”
He smiles at me again before taking another sip and looking at the television. I give him a moment before I clear my throat in hopes of getting his attention. He turns to me as if he has no idea of the information I want from him.
“Yes?” he asks innocently as he looks back to the television. “I’ve seen this movie before. It’s a great flick. I still can’t believe this didn’t get the credit it deserved, and the actors, man, the actors. They were really underpaid.”
“Why did you refer to me as a keeper?” I said, letting the elephant out into the room.
“Just one second, this is one of my favorite parts,” Vincent says as he points to the television, pretending he didn’t hear me.
I repeat my question, but all I get is a raised hand from Vincent. He apparently really wants me to wait until this particular scene of the movie is over. He mouths the lines to the movie silently the entire time and then turns to me when it’s over.
“You were saying?” Vincent asks as he pours himself another cup of wine. “Oh, the keeper thing. Michael didn’t tell you? Then that also means he doesn’t know you called me. And all that means is that I’m essentially upsetting my oldest friend in the world by being here right now. My, my…it would appear I’m faced with a moral dilemma.”
“And why is that?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I do actually care what Michael thinks of me,” Vincent explains casually as he continues to enjoy his merlot. “You could call him the little brother I never had, or something like that. He’s a good man, and the only man I trust. The problem is, by our very personalities, we go about fixing problems in different ways. I can see why he wouldn’t explain everything to you. I’m just not sure that’s wise at this juncture…”
Vincent’s words trail off as he delves deeper into his cup. For once, his sapphire eyes seem to lose their luster, as if they were dead.
“I think I should speak with Michael again before I reveal everything to you,” Vincent says with a long sigh. “It’s not my business to pretend to know what’s best for everyone. Michael feels comfortable doing that, I don’t. I just do what I have to do, and screw everyone who disagrees with me.”
“No Vincent, you told me you would tell me,” I plead desperately. “Don’t I have the right to choose? If the decision to know or not know what might happen to my home, my town and friends, isn’t mine, then whose decision is it?”
Vincent looks at his cup pensively before placing it on the table in front of us. He then turns to me and scratches his forehead. He appears to be racked with some sort of guilt or secret.
“Before I make my decision, I want you to make sure you know the consequences of your decision,” Vincent confesses, his demeanor completely serious now. “I am the oldest vampire in existence right now. But that could change. It could change in a day, in an hour, in a second. I can die, and if I die, there will be other vampires who disagreed with my decision to inform you of the true world. What humans refer to as supernatural, well, that’s the real world, in all of its parts to us. Since you know about Michael, that will speed things up considerably. Michael is a werewolf. He is what humans would call a ‘supernatural vigilante’. He has received his gifts as part of a greater responsibility to keep balance in the world. Most supernatural entities would kill Michael if given the chance. They do not agree or welcome a being of such power into the fold. They can’t understand why Michael can be judge, jury, and executioner. I however, have been around a long time. I’ve come to understand the need for what Michael does. But vampire society is different. We have a hierarchy, we have a system. In that system, we demand at least a tiny bit of order. Not many in that system would agree with me telling you anything, at least, not yet.”
“Wait, what do you mean by not yet?” I interrupt him. “I’ve heard you constantly refer to me differently. You’ve called me a keeper, and instead of including me with the humans, you’ve made it a point to consistently exclude me. Why?”
Vincent looks at me before pushing his hair back. He turns his attention instead to the bottle of wine sitting on the table.
“I hope you don’t mind sweetheart,” Vincent says as he grabs the bottle and drinks straight out of it. “I do believe our time for passing pleasantries has eluded us. You will forgive me for not giving your intellect the credit it most certainly deserves. But, I will once again affirm my position. Once you know this, it will change your world. There’s no going back from this. I can tell you everything. I can face Michael’s wrath, hell, I’ll even face the council’s wrath if need be. I don’t really care about the council to begin with. But you’re the one that has to live knowing the truth. Can you really handle the truth? It might ruin you.”
Vincent seems genuinely concerned for my well being. Whatever it might be, it’s huge. I’d rather live in an ugly truth than a beautiful lie. That’s something I’ve always told myself. I look up towards Vincent’s finely detailed features before I answer him.
“If the world I’m living in isn’t the real one,” I begin softly, gathering all my courage, “then I’d rather face the real world with my head held high then continue to live in a daydream.”
Vincent nods his head slowly. It seems as if he admires me, if only for a moment. But then he takes a deep breath, as if he’s mustering his courage, and leans in closer to me.
“I excluded you for a reason,” he says softly, the wine heavy on his breath. “I said humans this and humans that for a reason. You’re not human. You’re what we would call a super.”
“I’m…not…human?” I barely utter as I feel the world closing in around me.
“Not in the least, sweetheart,” Vincent says as he takes another swig from his bottle. “And you’re one of the most special kinds of supernaturals in existence. You’re a keeper, in more ways than one, beautiful.”
I stare at Vincent for a long time before I can speak. Am I a monster? Something like Vincent or Michael? A bedtime story to keep the kids in bed at night?
If only that were the case…