The Truth

by Marcus Brown

  She pushed herself from the table and ran to the window. The black limousine parked at the front of the house looked out of place.

  “Mom, we have to go.” Chloé ran over to Lara and pulled her out of the chair. “We’re in trouble.”

  “What the hell?” Lara cried out as she was dragged out of the kitchen and into the spacious hallway. “Chloé, let me go, right this minute.”

  “I’m sorry, but please, stop fighting with me. We need to get out of here.”

  “Have you lost your mind? Get off me, right now.” Lara wrenched her wrist out of her daughter’s hand as a crashing sound came from the sitting room. “What on earth was that?” She ran down the hallway and pushed the door open. Chloé followed close behind.

  The little man was lying in the middle of the carpeted floor, surrounded by glass. He was bleeding heavily and had a large gash down the side of his face -- it was split wide open and his cheekbone was visible underneath.

  The window had completely caved in and other parts of furniture strewn about. The usually spotless room looked like a bomb site.

  “You,” Chloé cried out, shocked to see the man from the diner lying injured in the middle of the room. “What are you doing in our front room?”

  Carlo moaned, obviously in a lot of pain. He clutched the wound at the side of his face, but it was no use -- blood seeped through his fingers as Lara rushed forward, aiming to assist him.

  “No, Mom, stay back,” Chloé warned.

  “We have to help him,” she ordered. “He’s hurt.”

  The wind howled through the house, both Lara and Chloé could hear doors slamming on both floors.

  “Call 911, Chloé. Go, now!” Lara ordered.

  “That wouldn’t be wise, Mrs Beck,” the little man advised, climbing unsteadily onto his knees. He wobbled, obviously trying to stay as upright as possible.

  Both Chloé and Lara glared at him.

  “How do you know my name?” Lara asked.

  Carlo seemingly couldn’t maintain his balance and fell face forward, sprawled on the floor.

  “Chloé, do as I tell you and call the Police.”

  “Mom, no, we can’t.”

  “Chloé, what have you done?”

  Lara glared at her daughter and reached for the phone, grabbing it from its cradle.

  Another voice interrupted them.

  “You should listen to our daughter, Lara.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lara recognised his voice instantly.

  Even though it had been five years, she’d never forgotten what he sounded like, the slight Latin accent, still as enticing as it always was -- she would have known it anywhere.

  She stared at Chloé, her hand clamped over her mouth, shock taking hold, rivers of tears running down her face.

  Maybe she was imagining it, she considered, until she looked at her daughter’s face – Chloé’s reaction told her who was standing behind her.

  Lara felt compelled to look, but at the same time strangely frightened and closed her eyes as she twisted around.

  “Open your eyes, Lara,” he said.

  Eduardo reached forward and touched her face. She reached up and placed her hand over his.

  “Cold,” she said.

  He felt cold – not the warm touch she had been used to.

  “Look at me, Lara.”

  “I can’t,” she replied. “I’m too scared.”

  “My love, open your eyes and look at me.”

  “It’s okay, it’s just a dream,” she said aloud, trying to convince herself this couldn’t be real. She opened her eyes and gasped, unable to believe what she was seeing. “It can’t be.”

  “You’re not dreaming, Lara. It is me.”

  Lara looked once again at her daughter. She hadn’t moved, stood frozen like one of those statues she’d once seen in Madam Tussauds on her honeymoon in Las Vegas.

  “Chloé,” she said as she moved away from Eduardo and crossed the room.

  “Mom,” she whispered, her whole body visibly shaking.

  “I know, darling, I know.” Lara turned to look at Eduardo, convinced any minute he would vanish, confirming it was some sort of mass hallucination.

  “I know this is a shock,” Eduardo said, “but there isn’t much time. We’re in the most precarious of situations and have to get as far away from here as possible.”

  *

  Amina sat in the limousine, smiling at the scenes unfolding before her. “Oh, Carlo, such hubris.” She looked down and admired her jewelled fingers. “Kane will not be happy when he hears of this.”

  A car drove down the quiet street, parking just behind the limousine.

  The driver of the car tooted her horn a few times, then got out, obviously impatient.

  Amina noticed the pretty mixed-race girl approach the house. She watched as her steps slowed – she’d obviously noticed the broken window.

  “Chloé,” she shouted. “Are you in there?”

  Amina could hear the concern in the girl’s voice and had to think fast. She couldn’t afford for the Police to turn up, not until she was far away from here.

  “If you don’t answer, I’m calling the cops.” She took the phone out of her pocket and waved it into the air. “Chloé,” she yelled. “Right, I’m dialling 911.”

  “There’s no need for that,” Amina said, creeping up behind Bethany. “Chloé is quite safe and sent me to collect you.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Bethany narrowed her eyes, obviously sizing up the stranger.

  “I might ask you the same question.”

  “My name’s Bethany, but what happened? Is my friend okay?”

  “Hello, Bethany. It’s good to finally meet you – I’ve heard all about you,” she lied. “My name is Amina Santini, and I’m with the FBI. Chloé’s been taken into custody and I need you to come with me.”

  “It’s that Kyle dude, isn’t it? I knew he was trouble - all that guff he’s been feeding her – I was a fool to take any of it seriously.”

  “Yes, you’re right, Kyle. Now, I must insist we get away from here.”

  Amina hoped Bethany wouldn’t ask for identification as she ushered her into the limousine.

  “But, my car.”

  “Don’t worry about the car – we’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

  “Okay, but no funny business, ya hear -- I’m packing mace in here.” She tapped her bag.

  Amina shoved Bethany into the car and closed the door behind her.

  “Mama never lets me go anywhere without it.” She tapped her bag again, as if to warn the stranger.

  “Go,” Amina ordered the driver.

  The car sped away into the night and turned right onto Main Street.

  Bethany’s screams echoed from inside the car as it sped away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kane’s rage was unimaginable. He paced the floor of the grand drawing room, smashing anything he could lay his hands on.

  “I’ll rip his heart out,” Kane screamed in Amina’s face. “Where is he?”

  “I’ve just got word he was taken to Vancouver General Hospital. His injuries aren’t life threatening, but he was unconscious when the Police arrived. I’m sorry, Master. I didn’t have time to get him out.”

  “How convenient for you, Amina.” Kane’s eyes burned through her.

  “Master. I thought it best to get the girl, and get away as quickly as I could.”

  “A stroke of genius, or luck, I might add, bringing her here for me to question.”

  “Yes, Master – that was my intention.”

  “And where is she now?”

  “Locked in the dungeon with the rest of the Benitez clan – she lost a bit of blood in the struggle and will need time to heal.” Amina wiped the side of her mouth, a glint in her eye.

  “Very well, I’ll wait for now, but I want to know everything, and, Amina,” he said, with a threatening tone. “I mean everything.”

  *

  Eduardo stood i
n front of the roaring fire – the penthouse apartment livelier than it had ever been before.

  Chloé had cried non-stop for the last hour, refusing to look at him, but Lara stared at him in amazement, as though waiting for him to vanish.

  Kyle stood in the corner of the room and hadn’t uttered a single word, not even to comfort Chloé as she clung to him as they flew through the air, following Eduardo with Lara in his own arms.

  “You died. I saw you fall. Your skull shattered as it hit the ground, and now you’re standing there as clear as day, alive in front of me. How?”

  “Lara, I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, but there’s much to tell you and I don’t know if there’s time now. We all have to leave and hide until this mess dies down.”

  “You won’t escape him,” Kyle snapped from the corner.”

  Lara turned and looked at the stranger. “Escape from who?”

  “Kane, the man that started all this,” Kyle replied.

  “Enough for now, C…” He stopped himself. “…Kyle.”

  “You’ve got no right to give me orders. They must know everything if they have a chance of surviving what is coming. You’re useless to them. You know nothing of our world. Kane could be outside the door right now and you wouldn’t have a clue who he was, or what he even looks like.”

  Eduardo stared at him, unable to argue.

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” Kyle asked.

  “You’re not.” Eduardo answered, “and that’s why I need your help.”

  “I’ll go to him,” Kyle said. “If he gets me back, this will all stop.”

  “No,” Chloé said, finally speaking. “I won’t lose you again.”

  “Who is this boy?” Lara narrowed her eyes. “And how is he mixed up in all this?”

  “I’m nobody to you,” Kyle hissed.

  “I won’t hide the truth from her, it’s not right,” Chloé stated. “The only way we’ll make it through this is if we stick together and get the truth out in the open.”

  Eduardo watched Lara carefully – she couldn’t take her eyes of the boy. “You look familiar to me, have we met before?”

  Kyle moved from the shadows of the room, lit by the flames from the fire.

  “Kyle, please,” Chloé begged. “Wouldn’t you want to know if you were in her position?”

  “I’m getting worried now,” Lara added. “What is it I don’t know.”

  Kyle walked across the room to Lara. “My real name isn’t Kyle.”

  “Huh,” Chloé said, looking surprised at the revelation. “Since when?”

  “The name my parents gave me was Cody Beck.”

  Lara walked forward and slapped Kyle across the face. Her face was rigid – she looked furious. “How dare you?” she screamed. “My son was taken when he was a day old…” She obviously knew she had said too much stopped herself, turning to look at her daughter. “Oh, my God, I’m so, so sorry Chloé.” She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. “I never wanted you to find out this way.”

  Chloé rushed forward and dropped down to the floor, pulling her mother into her arms. “It’s okay, Mom, I know all about him. All those years you thought I was wacko, I really wasn’t -- he’s my imaginary friend.”

  Lara looked up at her daughter. “That’s not possible.”

  “He’s our son, I can say for certain,” Eduardo clarified.

  “I’m losing my mind here. You’re dead,” she said, pointing to Eduardo, “and you’re missing, but you’re both here, with us.”

  “It’s a lot to take in, Lara, but the sooner you accept what’s happening here, the easier it will be for all of us.”

  “What are you,” Lara finally asked, gazing up at Eduardo. “You’re the same, but different, I can see it now.”

  “I’m a Nightwalker,” he replied, “A vampire.”

  “And you,” she said to Kyle. “What about you, my beautiful son?”

  “Daywalker. Half mortal.” Kyle answered bluntly.

  Lara looked like she was about to pass out, and clung onto Chloé.

  “And me, Mom, I’m still me. Same old boring me, and you’re still you, but we’re in it up to our necks here and don’t have time to dwell on who’s who right now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Selena Buckland couldn’t settle on the antique four poster bed.

  She’d retired to her bedroom earlier than usual, troubled by the events of the last few days.

  The third eye struggled to see what was happening in the outside world and that bothered her more than anything. She was usually prepared for what was to come, but it felt like her ancestors had closed themselves off from her.

  She could feel the shift in the atmosphere and knew the tide was turning, but not in her favour.

  Closing her eyes, the images flooded her mind.

  “Chloé Beck,” she said, her eyes opening. “Where are you?”

  She closed her eyes again, breathing deeply, waiting patiently as the images sorted themselves out in an order she could understand.

  For the first time in many years, she was truly afraid.

  What she feared most had finally come to pass and she cursed herself for not stopping Romeo and Constance from stealing the child years earlier.

  She could no longer sense the Benitez’s and knew what that meant – they were dead, but at whose hands?

  The wind picked up around the old house and Selena knew she had an unwelcome visitor.

  There was a loud bang on the front door announcing the arrival of the mysterious visitor.

  Calling upon her ancestors, she swung her legs out of bed and pushed herself forward into the pointy black shoes waiting at the side of the bed. “Come to me now and bestow upon me all of your gifts. This world is in great peril. Fight alongside me or we are all doomed.”

  Almost immediately, she felt their strength, their powers merging with her own. The third eye still wouldn’t give up its secrets.

  Whoever was at the front door banged again, irritating Selena, but the third eye let her down again, and wouldn’t reveal who awaited her presence – they were shielded from her vision.

  “I’m coming,” she barked, as she made her way across the landing and down the winding staircase, shuffling toward the door.

  With a wiggle of her finger, the door flew open.

  He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  Standing before her was the man she’d tried and failed to forget – it had been many years and his face was one she had hoped never to see again.

  “So, we meet again, Selena, although you’ve aged, and not in a good way.” He grinned, obviously amused by the withered old woman before him. “Did you think by presenting this... feeble image, I wouldn’t find you?”

  “You appear surprised – surely you remember what gifts I have at my disposal.”

  “Oh, I remember very well what you’re capable of,” he replied.

  “But if you’d kept to the agreement we had, you’d have remembered me how I was seventeen years ago.”

  “And miss out on this reunion?” he said, the sarcasm obvious.

  “I’d hoped to go to my grave never seeing your face again.”

  “But where would my manners have been? It would have been rude of me not to pop by to say hello, whilst I’m in town.”

  “You should have saved yourself the trouble, Kane.”

  “Oh, my dear, it is no trouble at all. Visiting my favourite daughter is the least of my troubles right now.”

  “I’m no daughter of yours, and you’d do well never to say that aloud again.” Rarely did Selena feel such hatred, or anger towards another.

  “Your temper is legendary, Selena, and I recall it all too clearly, but you know I speak the truth. Surely, you’re not foolish enough to think your considerable power comes from the witch you called a mother, do you?” He sniggered at her.

  “I come from a long noble line, something you know nothing about. I’m warning you, Kane.” She was preparing for him to
attack. What other reason could there be for his visit?

  “Your words wound me.”

  “I sincerely doubt that. Now cut the crap and tell me what you’re really doing here.”

  “Still as sharp as a knife, I see.”

  “Make it quick and then get out,” Selena warned.

  “I need your help.”

  “Never,” she hissed. “The last time you came to me for help, I lost the most important person in my life.”

  “What happened to your daughter was not my doing.”

  “Not directly, but you were responsible and could have stopped it.”

  “I wasn’t responsible for what happened to Amina.”

  She stood tall and raised her voice. “You stopped me from burying my only child, yes, you.” She pointed her finger at him and watched as he was pushed unwillingly into the door. Her considerable power held him in place. “And you have the gall to come here and ask me for help. I never even had a body to bury – my own daughter… I’ll never help you, or your kind. Empusa herself couldn’t force me to.”

  “Selena, stop this stubbornness and listen to me, please.”

  She laughed out loud. “So, the mighty Kane, stands before me and pleads for my help. What would your Queen have to say if she could hear you beg a common witch for help?”

  “If you don’t help me, Empusa will slay you all and nobody will stand a chance, not even you, my daughter.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Even from a young age, Selena’s powers had been formidable.

  She had the gift of flight – something no other witch in centuries had been blessed with. Her power scared the rest of the coven who eventually agreed to send her away, to live with her grandmother, somewhere they weren’t known to anybody else.

  Many years ago, she’d arrived in Vancouver, settling into the quiet town, happy to be living in the big house across the town square.

  Her grandmother was a powerful woman. She was strict, but showered Selena with love and compassion.

  Over the years, Madam Syeira had taught her granddaughter everything she knew – how to master spells from generations past, but also to form her own powerful spells. It was well known that only the most powerful of witches could create new spells and Selena did this with ease.