Saying Goodbye to the Sun

by David McAfee

  There wasn’t a single hair on his head, and probably never had been. He didn’t even have lashes or eyebrows. His teeth were just as haphazardly placed as the rest of his face. The yellowed, crooked things seemed to have been put into his mouth in no particular order. Some stuck straight out from his jaw, while still others hung jaggedly off to one side or another. His fangs, the only straight teeth in his mouth, could not reach the length of the rest, and it was pretty obvious that Algor had to rip into his victims before he could feed on them. An involuntary shudder passed through me at the thought of those hideous things tearing into my own neck, and I felt a stab of pity for anyone unfortunate enough to experience it firsthand.

  Around this horrific set of teeth, his thin lips twisted into a permanent, sneering grin which, combined with a large, sharpened nose that bent nearly double in the middle made him resemble a cross between a man and a wild boar. I could envision him rooting around with his snout and fangs, burying them deep into the flesh of his victims.

  If there is a more sinister, depraved, ugly creature in the world that Algor, I have never heard of it, nor do I want to. Anything that could be worse than him can stay put, as far as I am concerned.

  “Do you understand me, boy?” he asked.

  I couldn’t speak, so I nodded. I understood, all right. You bet I did. I understood I was getting the fuck out of there as soon as possible and never coming back.

  “You think you can hide, do you?” he continued, once again echoing my thoughts. “Perhaps you could, at that. You are clever and intelligent, and so is Raine. Maybe the two of you could hole up together in some remote corner of the world where few Bachyir go. Perhaps Rome, near to the Vatican City, or even Israel. We generally do not do well in those places. Perhaps you and Raine could live there for a long happy, eternity. Is that what you are thinking?”

  There was no sense in lying, he would see right through it. I knew that much already, so I nodded again, still unable to find my voice.

  “Think again,” Algor snapped. “You will carry out your duty to the best of your limited abilities. I do not believe for a moment that you are capable of finding and capturing Raine, but you will try. Oh, yes, you will try your very best. And the best part of it is that it will not be the fear of failure or my punishment that will spur you on, but your own desire to bring her in.”

  That confused me, and it must have been obvious because Algor barked a sharp laugh, reminiscent of the sound a hyena makes when chasing prey.

  “Yes, Vincent. Your own desire to see Raine punished will drive you to your goal. Lannis has seen to that.” He grinned around his crooked array of teeth. “Did Ramah not tell you? Lannis is the one who finished your change. Don’t you know what that means?”

  I wrapped my courage and wits around me, and answered his question. “Ramah mentioned something about it,” I said. “He told me I would feel a bit of Lannis inside me due to the nature of the ritual used to create me. But I also have a bit of Raine in me, as well,” I finished, managing a hint of defiance.

  “Oh, it’s much more than that, Vincent. Much more indeed.” He smiled widely. “All Bachyir inherit traits from their parents, much as human children inherit traits from theirs. In this case, you have two parents, but one of them is far stronger than the other. Raine might be the daughter of a council member, but Lannis is a council member. Her voice will drown Raine’s, as well as the trace hints of that fool Ramah. The loudest voice you hear in your head, the voice you will think of as your own, will be Lannis. Her shadow will follow you everywhere. You will be unable to escape it because it will be inside you. If you do somehow manage to bring Raine back, you will desire her punishment, even her death, and you will hear your own voice demanding she be brought to justice.”

  “It should be quite entertaining,” he finished, smiling. Every single one his yellowed and twisted teeth showed in his hideous grin.

  Satisfied at the look of horror and revulsion I couldn’t hide, Algor stood, pulled his hood back over his face, and walked to the door.

  “The Council will convene in one hour,” he said. “We will be formally charging you with Raine’s return, of course. A Lost One will be sent to collect you when it is time.” Then he was gone, closing the door behind him with an audible click.

  The door might as well have closed over my own soul as I sat on the bed contemplating Algor’s words. I finally understood the origin of all the confusing thoughts I’d been having. They were Lannis’ thoughts and desires, coming unbidden into my own mind and setting up shop. I could feel the taint of Lannis slithering around in my head. The room seemed to darken with the sheer malevolence of it.

  Would I have the strength needed to do what Ramah had asked of me? Would I even be able to remember that I loved Raine when I found her? Never before had I felt so helpless, not even when I lay in the dirty alley looking up at the imposing figure of Carl Sanders. Then I had been afraid, yes, and unable to move. But at least I’d been afraid of a material thing. A being that stood right in front of me. I might even have been able to fight him had I tried. But how can one fight one’s own mind?

  It was an important question, and one I couldn’t answer. That is the way of the Bachyir; always seeking, groping about in the night like a blind man in an unfamiliar room. Most are Hate walking around on two legs. The kill is what they love, the only reason they exist. I heard the voices in my head whispering for me to join them in the hunt. To kill.

  And Algor was right. Part of me already liked it.

  Chapter Fifteen:

  Added Insurance

  Within an hour of Algor’s disturbing visit, there was a third knock at the door. Unlike Ramah and Algor, this time I had not heard anyone approaching, and the sudden hollow boom startled me. That more than anything told me who had come calling, though I could also feel the cold dread that flowed into the room like mist. I knew what waited for me in the hallway.

  A Lost One stood on the other side of the door.

  There was no help for it. The Council would have given the Lost One orders to bring me by any means necessary. Algor would have seen to that. So I opened the door and stepped into the hallway to face the thing that waited there, trying to look less afraid than I felt. The last time I’d run afoul of a Lost One, the damn thing gave me a brief tour of Hell itself. I was only there for a minute, but I’ll never forget it. I looked at my shoulder, still feeling the phantom cold of the thing’s touch. I had no desire to see it again. When the Lost One pointed down the hall, I walked in the direction indicated.

  All thirteen Councilors were present, though none wore their hoods over their faces. I saw Ramah’s stoic expression only a few feet to the right of Herris, who appeared cool and collected. Algor’s twisted features were visible, as well, and such was the shape of them that I could not tell if he was smiling or scowling. Perhaps a mixture of both. His hard, empty eyes bored into me from his seat off to Herris’ left. I felt the anger burning in his gaze and knew he would kill me in a heartbeat if I give him half a reason.

  Two chairs to his left sat Lannis, the Ninth ranked of the Council of Thirteen. Undeniably beautiful, she waited, still as stone, just inside the flickering shadows like a ghost. Her scarlet lips were emphasized by her pallor and also by her sharp, aristocratic cheekbones. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, with a few strands pulled stylishly over her aquiline face, blocking her left eye from view. Her right eye twinkled in the torchlight like a black diamond. She looked dark and mysterious, like something from an old Bogart flick.

  But, as in my dream, Lannis was only beautiful on the outside. The depths of her dark nature could be felt even from where I stood across the room. She radiated evil like an oven radiates heat. I felt like I was cooking in it like a suckling pig, turned over and over on a spit until I was just right. I vowed to myself that whatever happened, I would not let them have the last little piece of what made me me. I didn’t realize at the time they had already taken it.

  No one sai
d anything at first. Then I heard the large twin doors close behind me, and I knew that my Lost One escort had left. I looked from one Councilor to another, taking in all of them one at a time. Some wore expressionless masks, while others – Lannis, for example – wore faces of such smug complacency I was forced to wonder what the joke was. There was a laugh somewhere, and it had to be on me.

  The only place I read anything comforting was in Ramah’s sympathetic look. Not apologetic, mind you, Ramah the Bloodletter does not apologize. He was not necessarily sorry I was there, but at least he could feel some empathy for my position. It was something, and in a situation like that you have to take what you can get.

  “Vincent,” Herris began in a tone of cool command, interrupting my thoughts and scattering them, “You already know why you are here, so I will not waste time. You are to find Raine Winters and return her to this very room so that she may face the punishment for defying the laws of this Council. Do you accept this task of your own free will?”

  “Yes, Headcouncil Herris. I do.”

  Several of the councilors grunted, some smirked. They knew the same thing I did; a choice with only two options, compliance or being turned into a Lost One, was not really much of a choice at all.

  “Good,” Herris continued. To his credit, there was not the slightest trace of smugness on his face or in his voice. “Very good. You will leave this very night and travel to Boston, where I am told Raine once held a hearth and home.” He looked at Ramah as he said this, and I could imagine how difficult it must have been for Ramah to spare even that little tidbit of information. Doubtless he would have tried to conceal it.

  I knew it wouldn’t be easy finding one person in the city of Boston. Perhaps it would have been simpler if the person in question was a human woman with a job and friends, or a Social Security Number I could look up, maybe. No such luck, of course. The woman I hunted was over one hundred years dead, and hadn’t had to worry about things like money and work and Social Security for a very long time.

  I was in love with a woman five times my age, if you counted the twenty-six years she lived before Ramah Turned her. I stifled a mad urge to laugh, reminding myself sternly where I was. I wouldn’t want Herris catching my smile and probing into my mind looking for answers. There were things in there I didn’t want him to know. Lots of them.

  In truth, it would not have mattered. Herris could read every thought in my head. He may have done so, considering what came next, but I don’t think that was the case. I rather think that Lannis had something to do with it, or maybe Algor. Even more likely, the pair of them had cooked it up together. I stood for a moment, uncomfortable under Herris’ scrutiny. Then his eyes shifted to something behind me. I resisted the urge to turn for as long as I could, which wasn’t long. After a few seconds I turned to see what had caught his eye.

  The Lost One who had come for me in my room had not left like I thought. It remained in the room, standing unknown behind me like a shadow. It sulked in the darkness, seeming to suck the light from the room. I couldn’t look long at its wriggling, pulsing mass, and I turned back to face the Council, barely repressing a shudder. Did Herris intend to use it on me as coercion? If so, why? Surely he knew I would cooperate with them on my own. It wasn’t long before Herris dropped another bomb on my head, and I had my answer.

  “Anna,” he said, giving the thing a name and a gender in two syllables, “Has everything been explained to you?”

  Anna nodded.

  “Good. And you accept the terms of your restoration?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Excellent,” Herris nodded to Lannis and took a seat. Lannis stood, and started to speak in that same strange language. I had heard it once before, when she had put her torn wrist to my face and bade me to drink. She spoke it in an eerie, whispery sort of way. It reminded me of the hissing sounds small children always associated with snakes. The sibilant whispers floated through the room, slithering over the air and bending it like blades of grass in the breeze.

  The air in the chamber thickened. As I watched, it shifted and blurred like it does when the street in front of you is especially hot. Waves of energy rose from the floor and danced around the Lost One. Anna’s frame went rigid, as though in pain, then curled into as much of fetal position as she could manage while remaining upright. She looked like she was in pain, but she didn’t make a sound.

  Lannis’ words increased in pitch and tempo, and the wavering lines of energy grew in thickness and number. Lannis was no longer whispering; but speaking loudly into the heated air of the chamber. She was almost singing, and the shimmering waves spun in a whirling vortex of mystical energy. They gained color as well as speed, going from perfectly clear to a glowing, translucent red-orange, reminiscent of the light cast by burning embers.

  No longer able to support herself with her legs, Anna fell hard to her knees on the rough stone floor of the chamber. Her knees made a solid thwack sound as they connected, and I winced. That had to hurt. The ever-increasing volume and cadence of Lannis’ voice whipped the glowing air around Anna into a frenzy, and I could barely see her through it. All I could make out was her silhouette as she went from her knees to all fours, head dropping and nearly touching the cold stone floor.

  Strange sounds came from within that field of energy. Sickly wet pops that I realized marked the end of life for thousands of tiny grubs as their superheated bodies exploded. Were they killing her? I couldn’t help but wonder why. What was the point of killing a Lost One? That seemed like a mercy to me. Perhaps they were trying to make a point. Not to Anna but to me. The point being that the price of failure would be great indeed.

  Lannis shouted the last syllable. It echoed off the sides of the chamber like the toll of a great iron bell, sending shadows of that last word floating through the room. The light around Anna flared a brilliant, blinding red and winked out, leaving a ghost of itself on my retina that made it difficult to see. The chamber seemed a hundred times darker than before.

  When my vision cleared, I saw a figure on hands and knees. She wore the threadbare black robes of a Lost One, but there was only smooth, pale flesh where grubs and larvae had been only seconds before. Thick auburn waterfalls spilled from the hood of her robe. During the entire ordeal she had not uttered a single sound. However, as the splayed fingers of both her hands curled and tightened, she gave a sharp gasp. The sound was as sudden and unexpected as a loud bang in church, and I flinched when I heard it.

  After several silent heartbeats, during which her right hand rose from the floor to within inches of her hooded head, clenching and unclenching in obvious disbelief, Herris spoke again.

  “Anna.”

  Her gaze shot up, and the worms were gone. No more fat grubs slunk about in the spaces where her eyes should have been, or prowled over a half rotted nose. In their place was flesh, whole and unmarred by time. Slightly upturned nose, soft cheeks and full lips, which trembled, hinting of a joy so great I would never understand it. She had just been granted the one thing all Lost Ones desire most in the universe: Restoration. Anna was no longer a Lost One, she was a Bachyir again. Dark eyes framed on either side by her auburn hair looked beyond me to the Head Councilor.

  “Your body and abilities have been returned to you,” Herris continued. “You may feed once again, and are free to come and go as you please. You know, of course, that your time as a Lost One was not supposed to end for another seventeen years.”

  “Yes, Headcouncil,” she replied, bowing her head in respect, “and I thank you deeply for this opportunity to serve the Father as one of his children once again.”

  “You know what is expected of you.” Not a question.

  “Yes, Headcouncil. Councilor Lannis has instructed me.”

  “Repeat it.”

  “I am to accompany Vincent Walker in his search for the outlaw Raine Winters. I am to teach him of his new abilities and instruct him in their use. I am to aid him in capturing the rogue and bringing her to justice. I am t
o ensure this Council’s wishes are carried out to the full extent of both our abilities.”

  And I am to keep an eye on Vincent and make sure he does what he is told, she might as well have said.

  This was certainly a surprise, and it took a minute for it to register. When it did, I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

  “What?” I asked aloud. Had I heard correctly? I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. They were sending another vampire along? Sure, Anna had said it was to help train me, but I knew it for what it really was. Added insurance. She would make sure I was a good little leech and did what I was told.

  My vision clouded over, red and angry, and I let my self-control slip. I strode briskly to the table where sat the Council of Thirteen, forgetting in my fury where I was and who I faced. I walked right up to a stunned and disbelieving Herris and planted my hands on the table, an act which seemed to jolt him from his surprise. As I addressed him, I began to see my own anger reflected back at me.

  “A babysitter! You do this to me,” I shouted as I gestured to my face angrily, “and tell me I have to serve your will. Then you give me a fucking babysitter? How dare you! You pompous, arrogant bastard! Who the hell do you think—”

  That’s as far as I got. My voice vanished into the room and was soaked up by the walls. The strangest feeling came over me, then. Not choking, exactly, but similar. I felt my throat constrict and my tongue began to grow in my mouth until I could barely keep it in. I tried to bring my hands to my face, but I couldn’t move them. Something pinned them to my sides. And it squeezed. My whole body felt the pressure. It was as though the atmosphere had gained weight and substance, pushing down around me from all sides and holding me motionless and mute.