Deamhan

by Isaiyan Morrison

  “You don’t understand. I don’t care if they’re coming, Sean. Let them come.” She swiped back the brown strands of hair from her face, revealing a trail of tears running down her cheek. “What I care about is that you lied to me. You came here to spy on me.”

  He reached out to her and touched her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” She didn’t respond. “If you want, I can leave now. I can walk out of that door and when they get here—”

  “No,” she interrupted and then placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to come with me to Blind Bluff Manor.”

  “Excuse me?” He didn’t expect that reply from her. “The sanctuary?”

  “Yes. I’m going.” She clasped her hands together. “I want you to come with me.”

  Surprised, he stepped back and watched her gather herself. She wiped her tears and for a moment, he saw a look of disillusion of himself in her eyes.

  “Are you sure, Veronica?”

  She nodded. “Positive.” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “My father doesn’t want me to go there, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, if my father doesn’t want me to go there then it has to be important.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Winter arrived in Minnesota late that night. Veronica and Sean awoke to six inches of fresh snow on the ground with the air carrying thick and sticky snowflakes. The temperature dropped to below freezing with the wind burning any exposed areas of Veronica’s face as they left her apartment and climbed into the backseat of a taxi. The taxi’s tires spun over the black ice on the pavement, making the car move uncontrollably from left to right before it sped down the street.

  The drive, an hour long, for the most part remained quiet. The Somalian driver tried to start a conversation with Sean about the weather, but Sean’s bitty, apathetic replies killed it.

  Veronica lost herself in her thoughts. A few times she looked at Sean from the corner of her eye, still wondering if he told her everything about why he came to Minneapolis. For the first time in her life, she didn’t trust him and the Sean she knew before she left California was now lost to her. Part of her understood why he couldn’t say no, but another side of her didn’t understand why he agreed either.

  She shuffled through the backpack sitting on her lap, pulling out her notes and some of The Brotherhood paperwork on Blind Bluff Manor (she also started to question the information Sean brought her as well.) The sanctuary, reportedly owned by a human and nestled far from the city, still didn’t seem real to her. Images of what the place looked like flooded her mind. She expected it to be large, dark, overfilled with passageways and secret compartments for the Deamhan to rest during the day.

  What she knew about sanctuaries she learned from her father and The Brotherhood. Deamhan sanctuaries were necessities in the time when the Deamhan were almost driven to extinction. Each sanctuary had an older Deamhan who acted as its leader with several Deamhan under him or her. They weren’t mixed and each Deamhan type preferred to stay with their own. Some sanctuaries could be cramped, others not so much, but each sanctuary had its distinctive traits, depending on what type of Deamhan settled there. They preferred their locations to be further away from humans, usually in abandoned homes, farms, and even cemeteries, but that was not always true.

  The Somalian driver weaved in and out of traffic. In the rear view mirror, Veronica saw downtown Minneapolis become smaller and smaller until it turned into just a pinpoint. The taxi meter read a little over five dollars. She expected the bill to round out to eighty. Nothing the driver said to them pushed on the conversation. Sean only replied when the conversation turned to the house fires. Another fire last night claimed a house in the Uptown district of the city. The police increased the reward to $50,000, in the hope to catch those responsible. This fire didn’t make the news like the fires before it. Veronica assumed that the news reporters were already moving onto newer news.

  Thirty minutes into the ride, the taxi driver blurted the name of the city. The taxi passed a green sign with the words: “Prudence Population 3,000” in white letters. Huge pine trees with snow collected on their branches grew on both sides of the road, standing tall and erect, creating a tunnel effect while the car moved. The freeway turned into a one lane paved road, surrounded by fresh, heavy snow.

  “Excuse me, are you sure this is the right way?” Veronica decided to question the route.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” The driver’s accent was thick as he spoke. “Your friend said you both want to go to Prudence, right? We are close now. Soon.”

  The taxi came to a four way stop with an abandoned gas station on the right corner. Veronica peered out the window, staring at the desolate land and its seemingly vacant scenery. The price of gas shown on its billboard still read ninety nine cents a gallon.

  She nervously tapped her fingers on her leg. Just yesterday she considered the thought of coming to Blind Bluff Manor as something she had to mentally plan for. She envisaged her behavior in the city as gung ho. She needed to be. Now she believed that maybe her aggressive behavior turned against her. Blind Bluff Manor was no Dark Sepulcher. The secluded place worked against her. She tried to relax. She practiced for this moment and she feared those years of practice would fail her miserably. She couldn’t afford to have her mind read—not now if not ever.

  The taxi turned left and drove for ten more miles until it veered off on Lake Bend, another one lane road. Ahead, a black gate guarded off the remaining road. It stood about fifteen feet tall, and its metal gates were more than an inch thick. Above the gate, twisted in the black metallic frame, were the words “Blind Bluff Manor.”

  “I’ll wait right here,” the driver told them. Sean handed him the money, and they left the car. The air was chillier than in the city, and it carried a dust of snow. Veronica approached the electronic lock and pressed the talk button twice.

  “This is secure for a sanctuary.” Sean glanced around.

  Veronica pressed the button again and noticed the icicles hanging from the edge of the electronic lock.

  “They never described anything like this in the books,” Sean continued.

  “Hello, is anyone there?” Veronica raised her voice. She began to grow impatient, waiting for a response that she believed they weren’t going to receive while standing in the cold. Up ahead, dim lights glowed behind a row of tall pine trees. Veronica pressed the talk button again and raised her voice to a banshee scream.

  “Hello? Please answer me! Someone? Anyone? My name is Veronica Austin. Remy sent me here to see Nathan Tiernan.”

  Silence.

  Sean tapped her shoulder and pointed off to their right and left. The length of a tall black steel fence stretched off into the distance on both sides. Like she predicted, Blind Bluff Manor sat on a large area of secluded land. The wind picked up, and their bodies gave out a quick quiver. The cold was beginning to affect them.

  “Maybe no one’s home?” Veronica whispered to Sean.

  “Maybe.” Sean approached the electronic box and pressed the button. “Hello, is anyone there?”

  “Remy sent me here to speak with Nathan Tiernan,” Veronica tried again.

  Static exploded from the box followed by silence. Sean pressed the button frantically, becoming anxious to hear a voice. Suddenly the sound of static was followed by a man clearing his throat.

  “I usually don’t receive visitors at this time of day,” the male voice replied. “May I help you?”

  “Am I speaking with Nathan Tiernan?” Veronica asked. More static echoed from the box.

  “Yes, I am Nathan Tiernan. It is cold out there, I can imagine.”

  Veronica and Sean strained to hear the voice.

  “Please, tell the taxi to follow the road in to the front of my home.”

  Sean breathed a sigh of relief. “I guess that means we can go in.”

  Befuddled, Veronica looked around the area. “How did he know about the taxi?”

  “Maybe there’s a ca
mera around here somewhere,” Sean whispered. They walked back to the car.

  “When the gates open, follow the road in,” Sean ordered the taxi driver.

  The driver shook his head, turning off his car. “You both walk rest of way.” He spoke in broken English.

  “What’s wrong?” Veronica asked.

  “Bad things about this place.”

  “What bad things?” Sean asked him.

  The driver began to describe the superstitions that came with every unknown possibility to man: ghosts, demon worship, sacrifices, and paganism. Veronica wanted to confirm some of his superstition. Instead of explaining the situation, she reached in her purse and pulled out a hundred dollar bill.

  The gates slowly opened, and the driver took the money. Sean and Veronica climbed back into the taxi and the driver started his car and proceeded to drive forward, taking his time approaching the house. He nervously looked in his rear view mirror, the side mirrors, and ahead. Reddish gravel and small, harmless rocks paved the road leading to the sanctuary a half a mile from the gate. Large trees empty of their leaves and brown grass sticking through the thick layer of snow completed the scene around them.

  Veronica’s fabricated picture of the sanctuary fascinated her inner curiosities. Blind Bluff Manor was the size of a mansion. Delicately beautiful, it had stained glass windows decorated with pictures of clouds tricked their eyes. Four windows lined the second story mansion sized sanctuary with a large balcony. The amber-colored front door itself stood towering over them. Overall, the sanctuary seemed secure, even with a small frozen pond near the front. Here, in this beautiful decorative palace, sat a Deamhan sanctuary.

  Veronica comforted the driver one more time before exiting the vehicle. She and Sean walked up to the door. The porch creaked eerily with every step they took. The door opened slowly. A middle aged man, a little taller than Sean, stood in the doorway. His deep dark blue eyes met them at the edge of the steps. His neatly trimmed brown hair showed streaks of gray near his ears. He slowly took off his reading glasses, revealing crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes, and he extended his hand with a smile, showing his gleaming teeth.

  He moved aside. “Please, come in.”

  Sean and Veronica walked in cautiously, not expecting the inside to be more amazing than the outside. A long, elegant red carpet lay from the front door to a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor with a majestic balcony—a perfect place to view anyone walking into the home. Sean noticed a huge portrait of Queen Elizabeth II hanging above a fireplace in the far backroom illuminating its surroundings. Huge shaded lamps in the corners of the room illuminated the granite marble ceiling.

  Besides the beautiful artistry that jumped at them from all sides, Veronica found the place to be empty and dark. She glanced up at the ceiling far from their reach, and her eyes rapidly found the next big thing to awe over.

  Roman marble statues of gods and goddesses positioned on pedestals outlined the room. A replica of a Roman forum complete with a balcony for a Roman emperor completed the luxurious den.

  “I guess you have an interest in Roman art?” The man noticed Veronica’s interest in his statues.

  “Almost anything historical, actually.” Veronica turned to face him.

  “Well.” He smiled. “As do I.” He stared them over for a couple of seconds before speaking again. “So, Miss Austin.”

  “Veronica, please.”

  “And you can call me Sean.” Sean held out his hand.

  “I’m Nathan Tiernan.” They exchanged a handshake. “So, Veronica and Sean. What can I help you with?”

  “Yes,” said Veronica. “I have a couple of questions about the Deamhan in Minneapolis.”

  “Deamhan?” Nathan repeated. His eyes bounced to Sean.

  “The Deamhan and The Brotherhood,” Sean added.

  Veronica continued. “I’m sure Remy has told you about me.”

  Nathan nodded. “Yes, Remy told me about meeting you at Dark Sepulcher but I’m afraid that’s all he told me.”

  “I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Veronica replied. “We just have a couple of questions, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  “Nathan, please. Mr. Tiernan sounds so old. I don’t look that old, do I?”

  Veronica didn’t answer. She noticed the deep dark wrinkles covering his forehead and his sagging cheeks. Obviously he seemed older and around the same age as her father.

  “No you don’t, Nathan.” Veronica respected his correction. “Remy said you could help me with some questions that I have.”

  “I take it you had no trouble finding my home?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Uh huh.” His enunciated reply sounded strange to Veronica.

  “We mean no disrespect,” Sean said, apologetically.

  “Please.” Nathan ignored his comment. “This way.”

  They followed Nathan to the illuminated backroom. A red velvet chair with a sunken impression sat in the corner. Next to it was a small dining table with a lone coffee mug on top of it. Sean and Veronica sat across from him in a twin matching couch, cushioned enough that Sean felt swallowed by it. Veronica felt they were invading his privacy.

  “Excuse the mess,” Nathan said. “I don’t have visitors often, and this room isn’t set up for anyone but me.” He crossed his legs. “So, how can I help you?”

  Veronica dug through her backpack and pulled out the paperwork.

  “I came to Minneapolis to find out what happened to my mother.” She spoke over the rattling of papers. “She was a researcher around the time the Minnesota Chapter was running in Minneapolis.” She looked at Sean. “From what I was able to find, she worked alongside you and my father was the Region Leader. We believe her last assignment was to track a Deamhan by the name of Lucius.”

  “Yes, I do remember your mother and your father.” His answer was quick. “But I’m afraid I can’t recall what her last assignment was since the Region Leaders were the only ones who handed out the assignments.”

  “Do you know anything about Lucius?” she asked. “Lambert, the vampire owner of Dark Sepulcher, told me a few things but I can’t confirm what he told me since I can’t find anything on him from The Brotherhood.”

  Nathan’s eyes locked onto the files in Sean’s lap. “Of course you won’t. They’re really good at hiding secrets.” He shifted his body onto his left side with his legs still crossed. “There were many members in those days that came in and out of Minneapolis and there were many Deamhan as well. At that time Lucius was the head Deamhan in the city— that I do remember.” He eyed Sean. “Are you a researcher?”

  Veronica looked at Sean, who didn’t seem fazed at Nathan’s question. Sean kept his posture, and his answer was quick. “No, not anymore.”

  Mr. Tiernan looked to Veronica.

  “No, I never was,” she answered. “I was raised around it, and my father is now the President of the Midwest Region.”

  Nathan sat upright, uncrossing his legs. A slight hint of a smile appeared on his face. “You remind me of your mother. She was a determined woman, always searching for the truth.” He leaned back in his chair and continued. “She was also really protective of her family, more than your father.” He grabbed the mug from the table and stood up from his chair. “Along with your mother, I openly questioned what your father was doing at that time, Veronica. Things were hectic and the environment unsafe. Many researchers lost their lives and the Chapter was on the brink of collapse.

  “It was Lucius who kept things in order. He managed to control the Deamhan as long as we agreed to not interfere. Afterwards there was a calm period and no issues arose between us and the Deamhan. We were there to watch, to gather information, to understand them from a distance, like our ancestors did. However, your father had his own agenda and priorities.” Nathan slowly paced over to his fireplace and leaned on the mantle, his eyes drifting over the files for a moment. “And things turned for the worse.”

  “What
did my father do?”

  “That’s the problem. I never found out. No one in the Chapter knew until it was too late,” Nathan answered. “By then your mother had disappeared and we had been attacked. We were forced to disband the Chapter and to leave the city in fear of our lives.”

  “But you didn’t leave the city. Why?”

  “No, I didn’t.” He sipped from his coffee mug. “Your father had me ejected from The Brotherhood and my parents, who had dedicated their lives to the organization, were cast out as well.” He placed his coffee mug on the mantel of the fireplace. “But I can’t say that I didn’t see it coming.”

  “If you didn’t know what was happening, why would my father cast you out of the organization?”

  “History,” Nathan answered. “Your family and my family have squabbled for power in The Brotherhood for generations. We are the only two families who never got along.” He closed his eyes in thought. “The Dearhorn family stood on the side of the Austin family and the Pavel family stood on my family’s side.”

  Veronica stared into the fire, caught in its hypnotic flare. It was the first time she’d heard of the conflicts between the families in The Brotherhood. There were so many questions and so many thoughts about what Nathan could reveal. She didn’t know where to start.

  “Hey,” Sean whispered to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, snapping herself from her vertigo daze. “Yeah, I’m—I’m fine.” She looked at Nathan. “My father never told me anything about this but that’s not a surprise.”

  “I’m sorry that you have to hear it from me,” Nathan replied. “After I was ejected from The Brotherhood I decided to stay in Minneapolis and further research the Deamhan on my own.”

  “Did you happen to find out what happened to Lucius?”

  Nathan closed his eyes for a moment. “Lucius Valerius Pulcher. That was his birth name.”

  Veronica quickly glanced at Sean, who looked back with a confused stare. “His real name?”

  “Yes,” Nathan answered. “He’s an old Deamhan; an Ancient is what they call them—Deamhan who are over a thousand years old. He was an avid follower of their Dictum and he believed in coexistence between humans, Deamhans, and vampires. It wasn’t a popular stance among his own kind.”