Gidion's Blood

by Bill Blume

  “They will need a body, picture of one. That part? Easy. But you will have to stop hunting. Can you?”

  What was that supposed to mean? Did she think he killed for fun like some kind of death junkie? He glanced at mom’s picture. He’d hunted to honor her memory. He could stop hunting if that kept Dad from becoming a memory, as well. “Yeah, I think I can manage not lopping off more vampire heads after this is done. Not that difficult.”

  “So you say.”

  Little surprise a vampire would find the idea of not killing a difficult thing to do.

  “We need a plan.” He went back into the kitchen for a look out the back window. “This whole ‘mutual back scratching’ arrangement doesn’t mean a thing unless we find them in time.”

  “You have an idea.” Even through her accent, he could tell she wasn’t asking. She realized he already had something in mind.

  “I do.” He went out the back door, locking it behind him. Part of him expected to get attacked, but nothing happened. He almost dropped the phone as he ran to the car while still talking. “If we’re going to do this, then we meet in person and we do it now.”

  “Why in person?”

  He got in his car. “Consider this a test run to see how much we’re willing to trust each other.” There was also the risk she wasn’t the assassin he’d met, that she was one of Mom’s vampires delivering an award-worthy performance. He’d be handing over all his strategy to them.

  She didn’t bother repressing a sigh. “Very well.”

  He told her where to go and to be there in thirty minutes. If she kept him waiting even five minutes longer than that, then it was game over for their proposed partnership.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The most important part of a negotiation process between two hostile parties is almost always a third, neutral party. Doesn’t mean that third party needs to mediate matters, just to make both conflicting parties behave long enough to work together without killing each other. The location Gidion chose to meet Blood provided exactly that.

  He pulled into the lot of the Wawa on West Broad Street with a little more than five minutes to spare. He circled the building, and was pleased to see a few police cars parked in the rear lot. He’d counted on the cold rain to drive everyone inside and into bed, keeping things quiet enough for these officers to stick their noses into cups of free, hot coffee.

  The gas gauge’s needle hovered just below three-quarters of a tank. He decided against topping it off for now.

  The bright yellow and red signs hurt his eyes as he parked in front of the store. Since he was early, he took the extra time to back the Little Hearse into the space. If he needed to leave here in a hurry, then those few seconds might save his ass.

  He knew he was taking a huge gamble meeting this vampire. If she pulled a fast one on him and was working with his mother, then he’d just gift-wrapped himself. The cops might deter things a bit, but they wouldn’t stay here all night. Besides, if he stayed too long, someone would get suspicious about why he was here. Public places didn’t always provide perfect protection, just enough to get things done.

  Déjà vu slapped him for the second time this night as he entered the store, making him wish Dad was here. He tried to recall any decent storylines in the comic books where Batman got caught and Tim Drake had to save the day. Nothing came to mind, not that he really had time to think on it. Much as he didn’t want to, he pulled his hood down once he was inside. Walking into a convenience store with a hood up and a bunch of cops around seemed like a bad idea. He did his best to hide from the officers the half of his face that was a swollen shade of smacked-down purple.

  Three cops clustered around the coffee island in the back right of the building, so he went to the other side of the store, hanging out near the candy. He saw a peanut butter Twix and realized he was hungry again. The convenience store also made sub sandwiches, so he really hoped this meeting didn’t go south, because he needed a sandwich.

  “You smell terrible.”

  The voice to his left startled him. She’d made it inside the store and within two steps of him without any other sound to give it away.

  “I just took a shower.” He resisted the urge to sniff himself for confirmation.

  She picked up a dark chocolate candy bar and studied it instead of looking at him as she spoke. “You wear the dead on your jacket.”

  Gidion realized she meant the blood of the vampire he’d killed. The guy who let it slip to Gidion that vampire blood has a distinct smell never said whether it was a good or bad scent.

  “I’ll be sure to dress differently next time.”

  She turned over the candy bar in her hand several times with a look of confused disappointment drawing her thin eyebrows together.

  He’d not gotten a good look at her inside Grandpa’s house. Never mind how dark things had been, but a sword fight doesn’t offer many chances to admire a person’s fashion sense. She had straight, black hair down to the middle of her back and wore a short, black trench coat over a green top with a pair of black jeans. She’d accessorized, wearing a beaded necklace with a dark steel representation of a dragonfly hanging between her breasts. Her face looked smooth and soft. She was almost pretty, except for her brown eyes. They stared with a hard detachment that threatened death or worse for anyone foolish enough to test her patience.

  “So how old are you?” he asked. “You know, for real old?” He wondered because she looked about his age, maybe a year or two older, and the vibe coming off her didn’t make her seem much older than that.

  “Straight to age.” She set the candy bar back down and shook her head. “Must be a real ladies’ man.”

  “You get a new driver, or are you driving yourself these days?”

  She smiled, not bothering to hide her fangs. “You recognized the pretty boy I left in your cremator.”

  “Why kill the guy working for you?”

  “Worked for your mother.” She waggled her finger. “Not me.”

  Gidion hadn’t tried to connect those dots, but they fit. The article he’d read said the family of the guy from Georgia owned a big horse farm. According to Dad, Mom loved horses, used to ride them. He wondered if a vampire could ride a horse, because dogs like Page sure didn’t care for them.

  She picked up and examined a different candy bar, a Whatchamacallit. “Your plan?”

  “Thursday.” He hesitated. Technically, since the time was after midnight, this was Wednesday morning. Did she think of Thursday as tomorrow? He never appreciated how little he knew about how vampires thought and lived. “There’s a visitation planned for my grandfather. My dad scheduled it for during the day to make sure we would avoid any fanged party crashers. I’m going to change the times to make sure it doesn’t end until well after sunset.”

  “You are certain they will come for you?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  She shook her head. “Too public for ambush.”

  “But a great opportunity to pick up my trail.”

  She nodded. “You cannot follow them if they follow you.”

  “No, but I can lead them into an ambush of my own.” He smiled as he added, “Of our own.”

  She shrugged as she swapped out her Whatchamacallit for a Snickers. “Or, let them capture you.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I have tracking devices. You wear one; I follow.”

  Gidion studied the look on her face. It hadn’t changed. She was serious.

  “What? I’m supposed to let them take me and then just trust you’ll come to my rescue?”

  “Faster than interrogation. More reliable.” The fact that she was here attested to that. The “pretty boy” hadn’t given up the information when she’d interrogated him in the cremator, or she wouldn’t be working with Gidion to figure it out.

  “Your plan means I won’t have a weapon and can’t help you get in there. Neither one of us can do this alone.”

  “Given enough time, one person can plan
a successful attack against many.”

  “Time isn’t something my dad has.” He stepped towards her and was surprised to realize he was taller. “Let’s get something straight. I’m not a pawn for you to sacrifice, and neither is my dad.”

  Not only did she stand her ground, Blood pushed a step into him. They were close enough to kiss. “Understand, hunter, I am no pawn either. Do not think me a cursed soul for you to free in kindness.” Her lips twisted into a snarl as she said that last word. “I breathe. I live. I defy death far more, for I have journeyed closer to the threshold than you.”

  Gidion flinched first. He stepped back and walked around her to stand on her left as if to peruse the other candy. “Point made.”

  They made their plans for the visitation, not that they took long.

  “And tomorrow night?” she said. “We wait?”

  “No, I’ve got another idea about that. They were going to ambush me somewhere tonight, and I think it might be close to where they’re staying.”

  “How will that help?” She didn’t look like she doubted the idea, just how he planned to execute it. “You cannot search every house near there.”

  “No, but she’s planned this for a while now, probably since I killed the coven last year. Until I killed the local elder, she couldn’t technically get away with establishing a foothold on this city, right?”

  “Dui.” Her nod suggested he was right, even if he wasn’t sure what she’d just said, but she didn’t look convinced.

  “If she bought a place sometime between then and now, then I can look up the listings for the homes that have sold in the Richmond area since then and see if any are near the place they wanted to meet me.”

  She smiled and then walked around him, making him feel as if they were playing leapfrog. She was now at the end of the candy display and stared into a glass display case of beer.

  “Then you plan to put this list together, for us to hunt tomorrow night?”

  “Unless you have a better idea.”

  He hoped she might, but she didn’t. Instead, they made their plans for when and where to meet next. By this point, they’d reached the corner of the store by the sodas and juices.

  “Then we are ready,” she said, turning to leave.

  “One question.” This had bugged him for days now and more so since going by Grandpa’s house. “It’s about the emails you sent me.”

  The confused look on her face when she turned around answered the question. She hadn’t sent them, but he’d already suspected that.

  “It was my mom.” He opened the cooler and pulled out a bottle of Mountain Dew. “She didn’t know I was the one getting the emails. She wanted to make sure you and I met, that one of us would take out the other.”

  Mom just didn’t realize he was the hunter, so when he showed up, that’s when she called 911 to save him.

  Blood left then. Her silver Nissan looked like it had a decent amount of trunk space. He considered her comment about having tracking devices and realized he’d need to search his car before he left. He wouldn’t put it past her to place a tracker on his car before she came into the store.

  He ordered his sandwich, a BLT, and left without drawing the officers’ attention. They left before he did.

  To his surprise, Blood didn’t place any tracking device on his car. He spent about twenty minutes going over every inch to be sure.

  Only once he pulled out onto West Broad Street did he let his mind wander to the place he’d avoided for a while now. There was a contradiction to what he was doing. He refused to believe he could trust his mother because she was a vampire, that her soul needed to be freed. In order to kill her, he was placing his trust in another vampire. If he could trust Blood, why couldn’t he trust Mom? If Mom wasn’t a monster, then what did that make him?

  His mother’s words from earlier tonight answered him: a murderer with a crusade.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Gidion pulled up in front of Ms. Aldgate’s home close to three o’clock. Roughly five hours had passed since Dad was taken at the park and about two-and-a-half since he’d learned all the lies he’d lived with. He couldn’t stop himself from doing the math any more than he could stop his brain from latching onto random memories that held new meaning.

  Anytime he’d gotten school pictures, Dad insisted on getting at least two that were five-by-seven. He’d put one in a frame in his bedroom. Gidion could never find the extra and even asked about it. Dad said he took it to work to put in his locker, but a few years ago, Gidion saw the inside of the locker. The pictures Dad taped on the locker were all wallet size.

  His eighth birthday, someone sent him a green stuffed dragon in the mail. The cute, grumpy-looking toy that Gidion named Windsor contained a hand-written note explaining it came from England and wished him happy birthday. The note was left unsigned. Dad insisted he didn’t know who sent it. He looked mad, but he still insisted on getting a picture of Gidion with Windsor.

  The worst rewrite to his memory belonged to March 23rd, Mom and Dad’s anniversary. Every year, Dad took time off from work and left Gidion with Grandpa. Sometimes, it lasted one night. Others lasted as long as a week. Dad said he needed time to himself. Grandpa always grumbled, as if he was mad about being stuck with Gidion. Last year was the first time Grandpa didn’t complain. That was when he took Gidion out and showed him that vampires were real.

  Gidion slammed his hand against the steering wheel and screamed. He was furious with Dad, but Grandpa’s lies cut a little deeper. He’d been preparing Gidion for his mother—to kill her. Hell, Gidion could have potentially killed her and never realized who she was. Would knowing who she was really stop him from taking her head like any other vampire? Dad should have done it, but he hadn’t. All the rationalizations Dad tossed out in the gym the other night made sense now, but that didn’t make them right.

  He looked towards Ms. Aldgate’s house. The front porch light was still on, but the windows were all dark. He should have texted her, but each time he tried to type a text, nothing worked. What could he send that wouldn’t leave her demanding answers to a dozen different questions?

  She hadn’t tried to send him a text. Dad and he weren’t supposed to be this long. Had she really managed to keep her head on straight long enough not to call or text either of them? That’s when it hit him that Mom had Dad’s phone. She didn’t know about Ms. Aldgate—not yet.

  Or maybe Mom did know. Maybe Ms. Aldgate had sent a text to Dad, and that was the reason the house was dark.

  Gidion gripped the box cutter in his jacket pocket. He breathed deeply and tried to push aside the ache that throbbed beneath the right side of his face.

  He looked up and down the street. All the cars he saw looked like they belonged to the neighborhood. He hadn’t gone as far as to note the license plates, but he’d gotten to know the makes and models that lived here.

  The front of Ms. Aldgate’s house looked as it should. The only thing that didn’t feel right was that she’d turned off all of the inside lights.

  The house to the left of Ms. Aldgate’s had a bright lamp post placed in the middle of the front yard. Fortunately, the neighbor to the right didn’t have any lights on, so he approached from that side.

  The rain had stopped, but enough had fallen during the night to turn the lawn into little more than mud and puddles. Water soaked through his sneakers and into his socks. The slosh and splash from each step forced him to move slower to keep quiet. The back yard to Ms. Aldgate’s house didn’t have a fence. The neighbor did, and as Gidion neared the back corner of the house, a dog barked and flung itself against the chain link fence. He jumped back and pressed against the side of Ms. Aldgate’s house.

  Then he heard another dog barking from inside Ms. Aldgate’s house. At least Page was still in there and cross with the neighbor’s dog for making so much racket in her new domain. He hoped that was a good sign.

  He watched for any hint of movement in the back, but nothing moved beyond the treeto
ps in the wind. He leaned around the corner of the house for a look at the back. Door closed, no windows busted. Everything looked about right. The dogs hadn’t started barking until he got here, and that offered another confirmation that there weren’t any vampires nearby.

  Something moved against his hip and sent him jumping back with his box cutter in hand and the blade extended. Before his phone could vibrate a second time in his front pocket, he realized what he was defending himself against: an incoming call. He put the box cutter away and pulled out his phone. The display showed “Ms. Aldgate.”

  She spoke as soon as he answered.

  “Gidion Keep, please tell me that’s you skulking around outside my house.”

  “Yeah, that would be me.” He leaned against the side of her house, resting his head against the vinyl siding. His heart slowed some now that he knew he wasn’t being attacked by some hip-hugging vampire. With the sudden rush of adrenaline finished, exhaustion settled into every part of his body. “Just didn’t want to take any chances. Wasn’t expecting to find the house dark.”

  “Get in here.” She hung up before he could respond.

  He didn’t move right away. What he wanted more than anything was to sleep, but what he needed to do next wouldn’t allow for that anytime soon.

  The next hour was spent in the kitchen over mugs of hot tea as he reassured Ms. Aldgate that he looked a lot worse than he felt—a lie—and explained what happened at the park. He didn’t tell her everything, though. When he got to the part about the vampire contact being Mom and that Dad had kissed her, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. He hid his face from her, sipping his tea and gently blowing some of the steam up into his face. The scents of orange and spice warmed his nose. He was thankful that she hadn’t made Earl Grey. Mom used to enjoy that on the rare occasions she wasn’t feeling in the mood for coffee.

  By the time he’d finished explaining that Dad was caught and that they’d tried to lure Gidion into a trap, texting from Dad’s phone, Ms. Aldgate had made up her mind.