by Terry Spear
And no way to even cast a spell on any of them to improve the trip one bit.
***
Arman passed another stolen bottle of hospital blood to Levka, while they watched the latest news on television.
The reporter stood in the Dallas factory district in an area cordoned off by police. Dozens of vehicles sat nearby, their lights swirling blue and red like a disco club.
“In the latest rash of gang-related incidents, four seventeen-year-old males from one gang fought four from another, an altercation that apparently started when two girls were attacked after leaving a club in the area. Police report that one male was stabbed in the lung and is currently in serious condition at Mercy Hospital. Another fell and broke his arm and is being held for further questioning. A third hasn’t been located. Police are holding the fourth gang member after he allegedly shot one of the opposing gang members three times at point blank range. Blood was found at the scene, but the teen who was shot and his friends disappeared. The gunshot victim has not been seen at any local hospitals or clinics and is feared dead. If anyone has news of the teens’ whereabouts, please call—”
Arman clicked to another channel. “No news is good news, my mother always said.” He leaned back in an old plush fur chair. “In other news though, the league has men looking for us as we speak. They’ve never found our club house before, but I’m afraid this time they’re really pissed.” He shook his head. “I knew we shouldn’t have gotten involved. We need to leave the city for a while as soon as Levka’s feeling up to it. I don’t think he’s ever looked this bad.”
“Hmpf, what about the Battle at Gettysburg? He’d been skewered six or seven times before we could come to his rescue. He looked pretty bad that time, too,” Stasio said.
“Yeah, there was that time,” Arman said. “But getting blood to him was a little more difficult.”
The door opened and Ruric stood in the entryway, blending in with the black night, though with his night vision, Levka could see him perfectly, and the look on his face, one of pleasure, made him close his eyes. When Ruric had a plan, it was always far out.
Ruric closed the door behind him. “He doesn’t look a whole lot better,” Ruric said frowning. “Are you giving him the best blood you can?”
“Yeah, what’s up, Ruric? Did you locate somewhere else we can hide away for the time being?” Arman asked.
Ruric pulled a brochure out of his back pocket and handed it to Arman. “Spring break starts day after tomorrow. We’re going on the cruise ship, the Sea Wanderer. This one caters especially to teens. Until Levka gets back to his ornery self, we’ll have a safe place to stay that no league member will ever think of. Best of all, we can have plenty of fun.”
Arman shook his head and handed the brochure to Stasio. “Looks too risky to me. We’re able to keep our identities secret in the city, but we would be surrounded by ocean for miles around. Nowhere to go if anything goes wrong.”
“What will go wrong? We’ll dance, kiss the girls, take a little blood, wipe their minds. We have nothing to lose.” Ruric turned to Levka. “What do you say, old man?”
Thinking his friend with his wild, curly red hair and affinity for exploration was indeed a descendent of the Viking explorer, Eric the Red—as Levka had always alleged—he flipped through the cruise brochure.
“We have to go.” Ruric folded his arms. “I ran into one of our snitches, and he warned me that the league has people watching for us at the hospitals and clinics, Red Cross, anywhere we might go to get blood. We have to leave. They’re sure to catch up to us before long. Until you’re well enough, we’ll bring the cutest girls to your room every night.”
Levka made a face.
“Jeez, Levka, you’ve been moping about Cassandra for a hundred years. And you say Stasio lives in the past. It’s time for you to have some fun before you become an even older man and make us the same way.”
“All right,” Levka said, his voice weary. “But no girls.”
“Boys then,” Ruric teased.
Levka made a face. “Bring bottled blood.”
Ruric pulled tickets out of his other back pocket. “Good, we’re all set to go. I just had to make some changes in the room arrangements. Some of those rich kids had their own staterooms. Now they have to buddy up a bit so we can have one of the rooms. Otherwise, the cruise was booked. Lots of mortals to feed off.”
“Reminds me of the time we traveled with the shipload of passengers colonizing America.” Stasio shrugged when Arman shook his head at him.
“Hey, maybe if you’re feeling well enough later, Levka, you can go on a nighttime snorkeling trip,” Ruric joked.
Someone banged on the door.
Arman glanced out the window. “It’s the police, five cruisers, and a ton of guys.”
Stasio lifted Levka from the worn couch and the pain nearly made Levka pass out.
“It’s now or never,” Ruric warned.
Something slammed into the door.
“Now!” Levka commanded.
Chapter 2
The door to the club house banged open and police shouted warnings.
Arman carried Levka out the back office window and into the night sky, flying, invisible to the world. Levka chastised himself for not reacting quickly enough when the burly gang leader had fired the gun, but stopping the quick succession of bullets was all he had really had time for. Sure, he told himself, he could have dodged them, but the bullets would have hit the girl, and she could have died.
Taking a ragged and painful breath, he realized he and his friends could have traveled the distance to Fort Lauderdale in half the time, invisible to vampires and mortals alike, if it wasn’t for his blood loss. Telepathically communicating their plans to each other, they agreed to stay overnight at a bed and breakfast in Atlanta, Georgia, while Stasio raided the nearest blood bank.
Hours later, Levka sat on the mattress of their new accommodations, a canopy bed that looked similar to one he’d had in the fifteenth century, robin’s egg blue curtains draped around the frame to keep out the bitter cold on winter nights.
Arman unwrapped the bandages around Levka’s chest. “You’re healing nicely, though it might be a couple of days or so before you’re fully healed.” k'12
Ruric leaned over and looked at the wounds. “Good thing we mend so quickly. If you’d been mortal, you’d never have made it. But I’d say it’ll take another four days at least. Now if we had a portable, laser surgery tool like Dr. Leonard McCoy did, we could just mend the broken rib and seal those pesky wounds right up.”
“Star Trek,” Arman said, shaking his head. “Could you live in the here and now?”
“Don’t laugh. Just think of what the future could hold. Laser surgery wasn’t even heard of when Star Trek was aired on T.V. in the 1960’s. And weapons…” Ruric swung his phantom light sabers over Levka’s head. “They’ll be better than anything they have today.”
“But will we survive them?” Arman asked. “Blades and bullets have little effect on us. They hurt and cause damage that will take a short time to heal—depending on how bad the wounds are—but what about laser weapons? I would think that could be the death of us. So watch what you wish for.” Arman replaced Levka’s soiled bandages with clean ones.
Levka gritted his teeth. The wounds still pained him, and he wondered again why he’d protected the girls. Because their screams called out to him, beseeching him to save them. That’s why.
“You don’t like the idea of the future because you’re not adventurous like Levka and me,” Ruric said to Arman. “A stick-in-the-mud.”
Ignoring the taunt, Arman didn’t respond.
If it wasn’t Arman arguing with Levka about the future, Stasio was. Levka tried to distance himself from the discussions, though on occasion the others tried to drag an opinion from him. Like now.
“What do you think, Levka?” Ruric asked.
“He doesn’t like to get into this debate.” Arman raised his dark brows. “You look like
you’re still hurting, Levka.”
“Some.”
“We shouldn’t have interfered at the warehouse district,” Arman scolded again.
“What happened to the girls?” Levka’s breathing was still labored and even speaking hurt.
Ruric smiled. “He refutes the idea he cares for girls. For a hundred years, he’s denied this, since Cassandra died. Are you now interested in the fairer sex, Levka?”
“Why is it,” Levka bit out, wincing, “I can’t ask a simple question of you and get a simple answer?”
“The girls are fine,” Arman assured him, casting Ruric a sour look. “They are fine. They’re sticking close to home for now. No more partying at that raunchy club near the warehouse district, and in fact, the police are investigating the place. The public is incensed, and most want it closed down for catering to underage teens.”
“Good. And the boys?”
“One’s arm is in a cast.” Ruric eyed his faux light sabers as if inspecting them for damage. “The other is still hospitalized from his self-inflicted knife wound. The one who shot you has been charged with attempted murder for starters. Even if they don’t find your body, the girls have sworn out statements that the boy shot you four or five times. They said you collapsed, appeared dead, and blood soaked your shirt. Of course, the police figure we’re from an opposing gang and are just as rotten as those guys or we wouldn’t have gone into hiding.”
“Any more news concerning the league?” Levka hated how strained his voice sounded.
“They’re pissed off. Luckily, they’ve kept a lid on the rumors among our people that vampires attacked the teens. Only a few of our kind in the city seem to know about it. So we should be safe other places as long as they don’t connect you with being the wounded teen in the Dallas shooting,” Arman said.
Levka gave a start when Stasio walked into the bedroom.
Stasio pulled a backpack off his shoulder and deposited it on the bed. “I got the blood, but I set off some alarms.”
“Were you seen?” Ruric asked, his voice terse.
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure though. I sensed someone following me.” Stasio unzipped the bag and handed a bottle of blood to Levka.
“One of our kind?” Ruric asked.
“Yeah. One of our kind. He may be one of the local enforcers, wondering why four male teens suddenly appeared in their territory. Maybe he’s afraid we’ll stir up trouble.”
Levka gave a strangled laugh.
“What?” Arman asked.
After drinking the rest of the bottle of blood, Levka leaned back against the bed. “We are trouble. Didn’t Stasio just rob a blood bank?”
Ruric sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you move in a couple of hours?”
“An hour,” Levka said, not intending to put his friends at any more risk than they already were.
“I stole enough blood to last us the trip, Levka. Sorry about setting off the alarm.”
Levka wanted to ask Ruric why he hadn’t gone instead. Arman wouldn’t have, as much as he didn’t like breaking rules. But poor Stasio. He was always making some kind of mistake, despite having the best intentions. Ruric should have gone.
“We’ll leave soon,” Levka reiterated, intending to rest until they had to move again.
But then he and the others sensed a vampire near the Applewood Bed and Breakfast Inn, attempting to scan for vampiric telepathic communications.
For a moment, no one said a word. Still feeling like he’d been run over by an eighteen wheeler, Levka swung his legs over the edge of the bed and closed his eyes against a wave of dizziness. Hating his inability to do anything for himself, Levka said, “We leave now.”
Arman carried him again. “Next stop, Fort Lauderdale and the Sea Wanderer Cruise.”
Ruric opened the bedroom’s back window and raised his specter light saber to the star-filled sky. “To sailing in the wide-open galaxy.”
The four vanished and flew under the cloak of blackness. Neither vampires nor mortals could see them, invisible until they chose to become visible again. They communicated telepathically the entire time to keep their bearing and stick together. Masking their communication, they ensured other vampires in the vicinity couldn’t hear their thoughts.
At one point while they were flying, Levka and Arman lost the others, but they soon saw a landmark, a white steeple on a church and headed in its direction, directing the others to do the same. Twice more, they lost each other, but by nightfall they reached the port of Fort Lauderdale, and Arman set Levka down on a bench resting under palm trees in front of a hotel.
“What do we do until the ship leaves tomorrow?” Ruric asked.
“We’ll get a suite at the Holiday Excursions Hotel.” Stasio waved his hand at the five-star hotel behind them, brightly lit on the dark night.
“All right. I’ll check us in, then bring a wheelchair out for Levka. It’ll look a little odd if any of us carry him into the hotel,” Arman said.
Everyone else stayed behind and kept their senses on high alert, scanning the area for any of their kind that might suddenly appear who may be trouble. Levka couldn’t shake the feeling the vampire looking for them in Atlanta hadn’t remained there.
***
Half an hour later, Levka was resting in a bed in the hotel suite, glad they’d had no more difficulties. Though he’d insisted on sitting on the sofa in the living area instead, his friends outvoted him.
“We’ll get our gear,” Ruric said, motioning to Stasio.
“Maybe Stasio should stay with me.” Levka tried not to show his distress, but he was a much better actor when he wasn’t suffering so much.
“No, I’ll stay with you,” Arman said quickly.
They didn’t need any more mistakes, and Stasio might very well make some, but Levka kept his concern to himself.
Arman shook his head again as if reading Levka’s mind. “I’m the most able doctor we have. You need me to look after your wounds.”
Levka’s wounds were healing just fine without Arman’s pampering. But he couldn’t fight Arman’s stubbornness when it came to him helping them out if he felt it was wrong.
“I’ll be super careful,” Stasio said, apology lacing his words. Then he grumbled under his breath, “I didn’t make any mistakes when I had to raid the Fort Worth clinic after Ruric was injured by that knife-wielding mugger last year.”
“I’ll watch him,” Ruric assured Levka.
Despite feeling bad that he might have hurt Stasio’s feelings, Levka couldn’t totally conceal his worry something more might go wrong. “Be careful, both of you.”
When they left the hotel suite, Levka scowled at Arman. “You know Stasio tends to make mistakes.”
“I know, but I can’t do it. Wiping store clerks minds and taking the clothes and other items we need without paying for them is just plain wrong.”
“We can’t use our credit cards or the league members can trace them. And none of us came away with enough cash. We just don’t have any choice. We couldn’t get back to our place to grab extra clothes.” Levka tugged at his bloodied, bullet-ridden T-shirt. “I don’t think I’ll be too presentable when we board the ship.”
“Sorry. I guess I could have washed it for you.”
Levka poked his finger through one of the holes. “And the holes?”
Arman looked apologetic. “I can’t sew. Although the way some of the kids dress nowadays…” He shrugged. “Could be a new fashion statement.”
“We need more clothes.” Levka sighed deeply, unable to stop worrying that Stasio would create a scene, and the Dallas league would learn they were in Fort Lauderdale before they could safely get away on the cruise ship tomorrow morning.
***
Two hours later, Levka woke to hear his friends talking in the living room of the hotel suite, their voices lowered, but with his acute hearing, he still made out what they were saying.
“Yeah we’re all set to board tomorrow morning. Do you think Levka will be
able to walk on his own?” Arman asked.
“I’ve reserved a wheelchair,” Ruric said.
Levka called out, “Any word about anything?”
The guys walked into the bedroom, their faces grim.
“What’s the matter? You didn’t set off the alarms in any of the stores, did you?”
“No,” Stasio said. “But we sensed the same aura of whoever it was outside of the Applewood Bed and Breakfast Inn in Atlanta. We’re afraid he followed us here.”
“He’s got to be a tracker then.” Levka ran his hands through his unbound hair. “Great.”
“Do you want us to kill him?” Stasio asked.
“Kill him?” Levka shook his head. “Of course not.”
Stasio looked disappointed.
Levka settled back on the pillows. “If he learns we’re getting on the ship, and he tries to stop us, we’ll knock him out. Under no circumstances are we to kill him. Understood?”
“Yes, we’ll knock him out,” Arman heartily agreed.
“Good. But only if he comes after us. Once we’re on the water, no on can follow us.” Levka pulled the cover up to his chin, hating feeling so weak and useless. “Let’s get some sleep. Ruric, you have first watch.”
“I’ll go after you,” Arman said to Ruric.
Stasio untied the leather strap from his blond hair. “I’ve got last watch.”
A tracker, Levka thought. Why would the Dallas league send a tracker after them? Or was he an assassin? The league hired assassins to eliminate vampires who were deemed unstable, uncontrollable, any who might give their kind away. A tracker was one thing, and he could cause problems enough. All he’d have to do was alert a local vampire squad to grab them and turn them over to the Dallas league.
If he were an assassin, he wouldn’t need to call anyone at all.
Dread wormed its way into the marrow of Levka’s bones. His mind told him they should move again. His body revolted and won out as he succumbed to another fitful sleep.