The Blood The Bonds

by Christopher Buecheler

  Two crossed the distance between them at a run and took Molly up in her arms, holding the girl, crying herself, murmuring words of comfort to her friend. Finally, through hitching breaths, Molly was able to speak.

  “I thought you were dead!”

  “No. Just gone. Are you okay, Molly?”

  Molly sniffled and looked up at Two. “Yes. I mean... no. I mean...”

  “You’re hurt, but you’ll live.”

  Molly nodded. She embraced Two again for a moment, then stood back.

  “You look different.”

  Two smiled at this, wiping her eyes. “I guess I am. No more heroin. No more Darren. At all. We took care of him.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Is he...”

  “Dead? Yes.”

  The expression that followed this piece of news had no business on the face of a twelve year old. It was a combination of satisfaction, glee, and hate. It hurt Two’s heart to see it there, but she understood. She understood very well.

  “Good,” Molly said.

  “Yes. Listen, sweetheart, how do you feel?”

  Molly pondered this a moment, then sighed. “I feel dead, Two. I don’t even like the shit anymore, you know? I mean... I like it when I’m taking it, but I don’t really want it. I need it, though.”

  Two nodded. “This isn’t supposed to be your life. We’re going to change that.”

  “We are?”

  “Yes. Here, hang on a second.” Two counted out several hundred dollars in cash and set it on the desk. “You’re going to take a cab to eighteenth street, and get out at Sid’s bar. You’re going to ask the man at the door if you can talk to Rhes. Chances are that the guy you’re asking will be Rhes, but it might be the other bouncer. If Rhes isn’t there, tell the bouncer Dan that Two said he needs to call Rhes right now. Can you remember this?”

  Molly nodded, big eyes peering at Two, trying to keep track.

  “Good. When you meet Rhes, you’re going to give him the note I’m about to write, and whatever cash you don’t spend on the cab. He’s going to take you in until I get back. Trust me, he’ll do it. ”

  “Where are you going? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’m going away for a bit. I have things I have to take care of.”

  “Who are these people?”

  “Friends. Don’t worry about me, kiddo. Get yourself into that cab, and go see Rhes.”

  “Okay, Two.”

  Two found paper in the desk, and scribbled out a quick note.

  Rhes and Sarah,

  This is Molly. She’s a friend of mine and she needs your help. I’m sorry there’s no notice, but I know I can count on you. Please do this for me. She has the same problems I had. I don’t know if you knew what those all were, but you’ll find out soon enough. Rhes, think Basquiat.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. There’s something dangerous I have to do. I can’t explain. It’s too fucked up. Everything is fucked up, but I want you to know that right now, at this moment, I am okay. Better than I ever was. Clean and sober and I have a reason to live, even though I don’t know if I will.

  That’s why I need you to help her. Please. She’s just a kid, and I need her to live, even if I don’t. Don’t worry about hearing from Molly’s former employer. Dead people don’t spend much time looking for ex-employees.

  If Molly needs someone to hate, let her hate me.

  Thank you so much. I love you both.

  - Two

  P.S. - NO METHADONE.

  The last line was a gamble. If Molly read it, and knew what methadone was, she would never make it to Sid’s bar. If she knew that Two was sending her to a life without heroin, she’d choose the street. Two didn’t think Molly would understand it though, and wasn’t sure that Molly would even read the note. It was a risk, but it was important. Methadone caused more problems than it solved.

  Two folded the note in half once, then again, and taped it shut. “Take this. Don’t read it. Just give it to Rhes. Trust me.”

  Molly looked concerned. “You sure about this, Two?”

  “Absolutely. Rhes is a sweet guy, and his girlfriend Sarah’s wonderful. You’re going to live with them, for a while at least. They’ve got a big black dog named Jake. He’s a sweetheart. You’ll love him.”

  “Where am I going to get a fix?”

  It hurt to lie to Molly, but there was no choice. Two looked into the girl’s eyes and did her best. “Rhes will take care of that. Do you trust me, Molly?”

  “Yes, Two.”

  “Good. Give me a hug and then get the hell out of here.”

  Molly embraced her again, and Two hugged back. She hoped to make it through the dark days ahead, but knew it was unlikely. Molly was redemption. Even if Two failed and Abraham destroyed her, Molly at least was safe.

  After a moment, they broke apart. Molly was crying again when she said goodbye, but she moved resolutely toward the door. At its edge, Two called to her.

  “Hey, Molly?”

  The girl turned around, cocked her head, raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

  “Do you still pray every night?”

  “I stopped. I didn’t think God was listening.”

  “Maybe he was.”

  “Maybe I’ll start again.”

  “Then do me a favor, Molly. Pray for me, okay?”

  * * *

  Two lit a cigarette and leaned back, lost in thought. It hurt, seeing Molly, but in that bittersweet way; as much pleasure as pain. Sam spoke up.

  “Seems like a nice kid.”

  Two nodded. “She is.”

  “There’s no fix waiting for her with this guy Rhes, is there?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Think she’ll make it through?”

  “God, I hope so.”

  “You forgot to tell her why she should pray for her.”

  Two gave Sam a bitter smile. “No. I didn’t forget.”

  Sam stood up, stretched, walked over to the desk and looked Two in the eyes. “He’s going to kill you, Two. I’m sorry, but this is crazy.”

  Two shook her head. “You can’t talk me out of it, Sam.”

  “Too bad. I’m not going to stop trying. Will you bring Tori?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will she fight him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What if he kills her too?”

  Two smacked her hand down on the table and looked up at Sam, eyes flaring. “Then he fucking kills us both. Tori’s probably better off anyway. That was the decision. That was the plan. Kill Tori, Kill Melissa, drop you in the city and run like hell. Abraham just fucked it up.”

  Sam took a step back, holding up her hands. “Okay, Two. I’m sorry. I know this is hard on you.”

  “No, we’re beyond that. This is the easiest thing in my life, Sam. I have no choice.”

  Sam shrugged. There were plenty of choices. Two had already made hers. Two dragged at her cigarette, blew smoke into the dark room, tried not to think about Theroen. She didn’t want to think of him until the next evening, until she was working herself up to a fever pitch of fury and hatred, ready to kill or be killed.

  “If I live through it, do you want me to find you?” She asked.

  “Hell yes.”

  “I don’t have an apartment. Give me your address and phone number. Maybe I’ll be in touch.”

  “Sure.” Sam scribbled the information down. Two stuck it in her back pocket and went back to staring out the window.

  “Thanks for staying, Sam.” She said finally.

  “It’s okay. I spent the time thinking up excuses to explain to my friends where the hell I’ve been.”

  Two laughed a bit at that. “I have no idea what I’ll tell mine, if I see them. I’m not sure I could even face them, after all the shit I’ve lied to them about since I met Darren.”

  “I’m sure they’d forgive you.”

  “Yeah. Can I forgive myself? Don’t know. Probably doesn’t matter. Like you said... he�
�s going to kill me.”

  “Yes. But... What happens if you win?”

  “Honestly, Sam? I don’t think there’s much point in worrying about what will happen if I win.”

  “Are there other vampires?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Will they come after you?”

  Two smiled. “Get out of here, Sam. Go home. Stop thinking about it. You’re practically human. I can hear it in your voice. Another night, and this will all seem like some bizarre dream.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Can’t say it was nice meeting you, Two... things were too fucked up to call any of it ‘nice,’ but I’m glad I know you. If that means anything.”

  “It means a lot.”

  Sam looked around. “I’m glad to leave. I don’t know how you stood this place for so long.”

  “It’s easier if you’re high all the time.”

  Samantha headed for the door. When she reached it, she turned. “Two?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Goodbye. Good luck.”

  Two looked over at her, and smiled again. “Bye, Sam. Thanks.”

  Samantha waved, turned, and disappeared through the door. Two sat, Tori dozing behind her, and watched as smoke curled up into the darkness, lost in thought, lost in her plans for revenge.

  * * *

  Midnight shopping was easier in New York than anywhere else in the world, and Two had little trouble finding the supplies she needed. Darren’s gun, bullets to complement it. A machete, purchased at a hardware store. Even a few wooden stakes, although seeing them sitting in the car truly drove home how futile it all was. Wooden stakes? For Abraham?

  Two drove from spot to spot, trying not to think about it, picking up things she thought she might need. Tori amused herself by playing with the various lit switches and dials inside the car. Eventually the incessant noise of the radio flipping from station to station faded into the background.

  She and Tori fed on a homeless man under a bridge somewhere in Brooklyn, but Two found her thirst waning early. It was starting: she was becoming human again.

  They left the city around four in the morning, heading toward Binghamton. There she found a motel. When the coming sun forced her into sleep, Two was glad for it. She was ready for the end.

  * * *

  The drive was miserable, the walk worse. They ditched the car a few miles from the mansion, and made their way toward the house in a downpour that wanted to be snow, couldn’t quite manage it, and settled for sleet instead. Two smoked, walked, saying nothing. The gun was jammed into the waistband of her pants. The machete hung in a sheath from her belt. She hadn’t even bothered to bring the stakes.

  Two walked. Tori stumbled along behind her, insisting on walking but occasionally dropping to all fours to catch up.

  The mansion emerged from the surrounding trees like a horror-movie haunted house. Huge, dark, lurking like a thing alive. It seemed as if the evil of its owner, held back perhaps by Theroen’s presence, had engulfed it. She found herself losing her resolve. Did she really want to be here? Surely this was madness. Hopeless. The fear pressed on her, taunting and shoving, trying to force her back to the car and away from the mansion. Two fought against it.

  She thought of Theroen, and forced herself for the first time since his death to acknowledge that he was gone. Theroen was gone, never coming back, and she would have to live without him. She thought of all of the things they had meant to do together, of the time they had planned to spend, and it seemed her heart would break.

  “God. That hurts so fucking bad.”

  The hurt brought anger. The anger brought hate, and Two looked up at the mansion with loathing in her eyes. Abraham was up there, somewhere. He wouldn’t know that she had returned. There might be some chance for surprise, some possibility of success.

  “Coming for you, Abraham. Going to cut out your heart, eat it in front of you, and then set you on fire.”

  Two snarled up at the mansion, and again moved forward.

  * * *

  The front entrance was lit. Too dangerous. Too obvious. Two knelt next to Tori, whispered in her ear.

  “Tori, I know you can understand me if you try. Please try. Do you know if there’s a back door? A side entrance? Something?”

  Tori looked back at her, confused but wanting to help.

  “See that? That’s a door, but that one’s bad, Tori. Is there a different door? Somewhere else?”

  Sudden understanding dawned in Tori’s eyes, and she began to squirm about, excited to have the answer. She pointed at the side of the mansion, pulling at Two’s hand.

  “Okay, Tori. Good. Thank you.”

  They crept along, skirting the edge of the forest on the mansion’s west end, keeping the shadows. The lawn was soft and wet, muddy in spots. Freezing water sprayed up with each footstep. The slush kept falling from the sky, and Two and Tori both were both soon soaked and filthy. A normal human might have been falling into hypothermia, but Two was still mostly vampire, and barely felt it.

  Two caught sight of an indentation in the wall to her right; a door, possibly a servant’s entrance. It was unlit and quiet. There was nothing between them and the entrance except wet grass and a few cultivated trees. Rotten crabapples littered the ground, slowly returning to the earth.

  Tori lead. Two kept her eyes to the ground, afraid to look at the mansion. The sense of menace was palpable, like a wet cloth that wrapped them, stifling, suffocating. It seemed to Two that she could barely breath.

  They were nearly there when Tori stopped short with a sudden yipping noise. Two looked up, and at once felt her limbs go weak. There before them was a shadow within the shadows, dark and looming, a presence so powerful it seemed to beat upon her like a physical force. Abraham. There. Waiting.

  “Hello Two.”

  Two could not find words, could barely look.

  “You’ve come back to finish this, have you? And you’ve brought my daughter. How lovely. Tori, you have been a very bad girl. I thought we had trained you better than this.”

  Sudden anger blazed in Two, and she found her voice. “Don’t you talk to her like she’s your fucking dog, Abraham!”

  Abraham turned his attention again to Two, focusing his gaze on her. She stood up to it as best she could, teeth clenched, holding on to her hatred as an anchor, remembering Theroen. It was the only way to keep from screaming under the onslaught of his gaze.

  “I will talk to her, little girl, however I please.”

  Calm turned suddenly to rage in his eyes, and Abraham bent forward, eyes blazing, snarling at Tori. She cried out first in fear, and then in pain. Abraham never touched her. Tori thrashed on the ground, wailing, left finally lying on her side, shuddering and weeping her pink vampire tears. Two heard herself screaming at Abraham. Semi-words. Half-noises of rage and hate and terror. Abraham ignored her.

  “Now, Tori. Go!” he roared, and sudden strength seemed to flow into Tori’s body. She leapt up and ran, reverting to all fours, pelting across the yard to the forest, yelping. Two felt tears on her cheeks, hot like branding irons against the cold and the slush. She was growling obscenities at Abraham, over and over, unable to stop. Abraham smiled at her, quiet, in control once again.

  “You’re a fascinating young woman, Two, but too good. Too good. It is in many ways a shame to destroy you, but I think that were I to break you, I would destroy the same qualities that make you so intriguing.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No, little girl, don’t you remember? I’m possessed of no such abilities.” Abraham chuckled. The sound was like turning earth. Like scraping stones.

  “I’m here to kill you, Abraham.”

  “I know. Oh, I know. You might even have succeeded in surprising me. I must admit that this is the last place I had expected you ever to return. The very last. Yes, you might have come upon me unawares, and at least had that small satisfaction before your death. Alas, Two, you have not. I have had some help.”

  Two knew it before he
spoke her name.

  Abraham smiled. Moved aside. Gestured. “Is this not true, Samantha?”