Evil Spark

by Al K. Line

  "That's why I want you, need you, Faz. No, that's not right. Gosh, we're bad at this, aren't we? I know I'm different. There are these urges and I'm aware they are changing me, taking over. But I'm still me. I get cold, Faz, in my heart and in my head. I hear them, feel them, the other vampires. I see what they are, or what they will become, and it terrifies me. I don't want to be like that. Ever."

  "I know, and you won't." It was a lie, and we both knew it. The vampire world is dark, uncaring, and cold toward humans. A race they see as utterly inferior. "You have to fight it, Kate, stay who you are. Stay kind and caring and don't let that world take you."

  "Faz, I'm trying, and mostly it's fine. I feel like me, but then something happens. I feel the others stirring, calling to me. The strong ones are there, the old ones, Taavi and the others in that place of his, and they talk to me, draw me down, want to make me like them."

  "We won't let them. You are part of their world, that was the choice you made, but you don't have to be them. You can stay you, just, you know, you have to feed when it's time." We have a list. We made an agreement, so I have taken Kate to feed. Nasty, cruel, bad humans only. Doing a job that should have been done by the law but people always fall through the cracks in the system.

  Together, we clean it up, make it a better place. But it's still murder, and it still hurts. When it didn't, when she didn't feel guilt, shame, and horror, then she would be lost.

  "Come on, let's clean up," she said, wiping her eyes and smiling at me.

  "Okay." I was confused, not sure what was happening. I did as I was told.

  We put the metal, paper, and plastic in the right recycling bins under the sink, then sorted out the rest of the mountain of leftovers. Kate put them in containers, then I stacked them in the fridge. It was so cathartic I can't tell you. A slice of normality, like we were a couple, and this was how we lived. Once finished, we sat on the sofa and she leaned into my shoulder.

  We talked for a while, reassuring each other that everything would be all right. That she wouldn't be lost to the cold emptiness that is the lot of the vampire, that she must fight the decline. I said nothing, but she is more distant than she used to be, sometimes gone even though she is there.

  Occasionally, I see anger, even a little disdain as she looks at others. The vampire nature taking over. But she can fight it, be the person she wants to be.

  She spoke of Grandma and of Rikka, and that we would find them, that the next day she would leave me to it now I had eaten properly. And then she took my hand and said, "Time for bed."

  My heart skipped a beat, my hands went sweaty, my mouth was as dry as the time I ate a troll, and I was as nervous as the first time I summoned a lesser demon and forgot how to send it back.

  We walked into the bedroom hand in hand. The place was quiet, elegant. Simple lights were on low. It was just us, and the seagulls saying goodnight. Kate's bedroom was as I expected. Neatly made bed, a few nice pieces of furniture, a tasteful rug, and three ragged teddy bears nestled on the pillows. That came as a surprise. She saw me looking at them. "From when I was a baby. I kept them, to remember." Kate has no family—it's a long story.

  "Cozy," I said.

  She moved them over to a chair and patted the bed.

  We lay there. Then we kissed. Magic is nothing compared to that kiss.

  And we fell asleep.

  Yeah, I might get killed the following day by who knows what, and that could have been my one and only chance to bed the woman I loved, adored, and worshiped, and I zonked out.

  Don't judge me, it had been a long day. It's been a long life, a sad life at times, and for the first time in years I was truly happy.

  There was plenty of time for the rest; it was enough to know how we felt about each other.

  I did wake up with the usual welcome us men always feel reassured by. I guessed it was morning, but it was hard to tell with the blind closed.

  Kate was gone, which was a shame.

  I flicked the bedside light on and couldn't help but smile. At least something was going right with my life. Then I remembered the rest, and jolted out of my sleep haze. Grandma! Rikka. I jumped out of bed. I was still dressed, but she must have got changed quietly judging by the clothes on the chair, her outfit from the day before.

  Where was she? Bathroom? Eating breakfast? What time was it? As my head cleared, I checked my watch. It was just gone three in the morning.

  I padded out into the main open plan living area. The lights were still on low, so I called for her but there was no answer. Where was she? What was she doing?

  Moving back into the bedroom, I searched my jacket and found my phone. My tattoos were tingling, hints of dark magic like my body was warning me I would need help from the Empty. I dismissed it as panic because she wasn't there. I called but got no answer. Where would she be? With them? With her new family?

  No, she hadn't really bothered with them apart from when she needed to, but maybe she'd gone to see what she could find out? That wasn't good. She was still new to their ways, inexperienced. She didn't know yet just what they really were, what she was a part of. Kate couldn't go blundering about, asking questions like she deserved an answer. It didn't work like that.

  I found my shoes, noticed the car keys on the kitchen counter, got my jacket and closed the door behind me.

  It was time to go visit Head Vampire Taavi.

  I shuddered even though the evening was warm as I exited the building.

  There was nobody around. Just me, the cats, and the dark. I felt like I was being watched, but that's just enforcer paranoia for you.

  Or is it?

  Meeting Taavi

  I always prefer to talk with vampires in the daytime for obvious reasons. It's only the younger ones—relatively speaking—that can function well during daylight hours, but even they are weaker then than when it is truly dark.

  At night, all vampires are stronger, much stronger, but for the old ones, the true vampires, those that live and breathe their world, have seen religions rise and fall, empires conquered then crumbled, it is the night that is theirs. They own it. Suck the darkness. It makes them pure in their own perverse way.

  Taavi, ruler of vampires in the UK, Head of the Vampire Council in our country and two thousand years old, is almost dead during the day. That's not to say he can't crush your mind if you don't put up strong blocks, and a Regular would be breathing their last in an instant if they even stepped foot into the same room as him—the hunger knows no limits at his age—but at night he is a different creature entirely.

  And I was going to pay him a visit. I didn't know where Kate was, as she wasn't answering her phone or responding to messages, and I felt like there was a lot of unfinished business between us. Still, I had to find Grandma and Rikka, and if anyone had the answers—not that it meant he would share them—it was Taavi.

  The gates were closed, not surprising, but I could see numerous patrol vamps wandering the grounds. Huge spotlights lit up the grass and the building in a theatrically creepy way Taavi reveled in.

  He's ancient and likes to keep to tradition, so the place is suitably eerie, all spires and gray, steepled roofs, accent lighting to make it extra menacing. The grass was as gray as the roofs, monochrome and hinting in no uncertain terms that you were not welcome unless you were a fan of darkness and sucking on necks.

  I buzzed, and after a stilted conversation was allowed in. They knew me here. Part of the job. Part of our world. Whether I would get to see Taavi was a different matter entirely. I needn't have worried though. He was there to greet me when I pulled up and stepped out of the car.

  The floodlights lit up the gravel drive like a sea of tiny skulls, and I stood, watching the patrols with their Doberman vampire dogs, immortal creatures that shone dark and shiny as a vampire's mind but probably twice as deadly judging by the teeth. The handlers let them pull against thick chains in a show of unnecessary menace, before continuing their patrols.

  Taavi takes privacy seriou
sly, and I wondered if Rikka couldn't have taken a page from the vampire book of security after what had happened.

  As I crunched across the gravel, feeling vulnerable and way too exposed, Taavi and a few familiar faces exited the building and walked down the steps toward me. My tattoos pulsed as Empty magic surged. I called it, let the sickness take me while I became something else, something more, something able to at least try to defend myself if it came to it.

  "Spark, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?" said Taavi, slight accent still there after two thousand years of living mostly in the UK. The strong white light made him appear older and more sinister than ever. Dark shadows under his brow and eyes. Cheekbones like razors. Skin as pale and cold as a Yeti's handshake.

  "I wondered if we might have a chat, about what's happened? If that's all right with you?" It always pays to be polite to those in charge. They hold their position for a reason, and in the dangerous world of the vampires you don't get to be, and stay, a Head unless you are meaner than a dwarf on gold counting day.

  My eyes threatened to snap to black but I kept it under control. Too much magic would not be appreciated and the sickness would make it hard for me to stay my usual polite, amicable self. Gotta lay on the charm with the old ones.

  "Why, whatever do we have to discuss?" Taavi studied me expectantly, waiting to see how I would answer. Oliver, and a clearly ancient vampire I had never seen before, chuckled dryly next to me.

  Oliver sneered like he usually did, handsome face as slappable as always. His oddly angular and bony shoulders made him look like an oversized coat hanger and was just one of the many things I hated about him. Mostly it's the smug look on his face. Ugh.

  "You heard about Rikka? That he's gone missing?" He nodded. "And Grandma?"

  "Yes, most unfortunate. You have my sympathies. How can I be of assistance? Please, don't take too long, I have a guest." He indicated the ancient beside him, who studied me like I was to be dinner. I swear he licked his lips.

  This was a very old one, probably only woken that night, then back into the dark of sleep. Some of them do it for years or decades at a time. Awake to feed like the ravenous, frenzied creatures they are, then return to their slumber. Time travel, vampire style.

  "Oh, where are my manners? Black Spark, may I introduce Yrjo VanOvermeire. Yrjo, this is our friend Black Spark. He's an enforcer for Rikka, the Head of the UK Dark Council." If Taavi could have made it sound less important I don't know how. He thinks nothing of our Council, of us. Bugs. An annoyance.

  "A pleasure, I'm sure." Yrjo was definitely from the old country, Finland. It's where most of the top vampires originate, and most humans with strong magic. My boss is no exception. His accent was strong, his power stronger.

  I felt his mind try to slither into mine, tendrils of icy cold blackness stabbing at my defenses like a child with a stick poking at a hole, trying to find a way in and glamor me.

  "Pleasure's all mine." We fought a silent battle, then the intrusion receded. A standoff. Both of us knowing if he wanted me I would put up a fight. I was sure Taavi would have filled him in on what had been happening, who I was and what I could do—I wasn't worth the trouble, in other words. I was also sure he had already fed, which meant dead human beings somewhere inside Taavi's headquarters. It better not have been Grandma, or Rikka.

  "Okay, I'll get right to the point, Taavi. Who killed the girl at Grandma's? Why was there a vampire there at all? Why were the twins there? You know the rules about entering people's homes better than anyone. And do you know anything about Grandma, or Rikka?"

  Oliver sneered in an extra sneery way at me. Yrjo snarled, revealing teeth as sharp as a faery's wings, and Taavi, well, he merely looked amused. "Now, now, gentleman, no need to be rude to our guest. Spark, as you are clearly distraught I shall overlook the impertinence. Now, allow me to answer your questions. But we must be brief. I have much to discuss with my old friend, and we are to go into the city. Show him the sights."

  I knew what the sights meant, all right. Pick up a few half drunk girls and promise them a good time. It would be their last. There is no way of stopping the vampires. Try, and all hell breaks loose, so it has to be lived with no matter how unsavory it is.

  "Grandma. Do you know anything?"

  "Nothing. I have always had a soft spot for her, no matter what she thinks of our kind. We go back a long way, Spark, longer than you could ever know. Do you know we are of a similar age?"

  "Of course."

  "I had nothing to do with her disappearance, and I did not appreciate Rikka accusing me of such a despicable act. As to Bret and Bart, I apologize, but events have been getting a little heated so I sent them to see if they could find anything."

  "Why them? They're goons."

  "Goons they may be, but they are sensible goons, perfect for day work. Don't underestimate them, Spark."

  "Okay. And Rikka?"

  "Much as I will not lament his passing, again, I am in the dark, haha, about such events. I am certainly no fan, and he has angered me these past few days, disturbing our quiet lives here, but I did not take him."

  "And the girl, what about her? Everyone is convinced she was killed by a vampire bite."

  "Now that is very interesting. As you know, I sent Oliver here to investigate and claim the body, loose ends and all that. But guess what? She was not taken by one of ours as far as I can tell. Nobody I have been able to uncover at any rate."

  "But she was killed by a vampire?"

  "So it would seem. It is most unusual, I have to say. You know us and our rules about entering people's homes." It's an old agreement, as old as dark magic. You enter somebody else's home uninvited and you basically declare war. Taavi knows this better than most. It's where the thing about having to invite vampires in comes from.

  "Who did it, Taavi?" I was pushing it—you don't question him.

  "Do not make me angry, Spark, especially in front of guests. It was messy, I will tell you that. Not a clean kill at all. Like an animal gone rabid. Most uncalled for. The poor girl will have suffered. Terrible business. She is gone now, dealt with. It is not any of our people, but as you know, I am not able, or inclined, to keep tabs on every vampire in the country. Do you know every wizard?"

  "No, of course not. Okay, thank you Taavi, I appreciate your time. I'm sorry to interrupt your evening."

  "Not at all. You know how much I enjoy our conversations." He looked anything but like he was having a good time, but Taavi's like that. I'm sure he kills all his victims with a smile, and apologizes as he sucks out the blood magic and pulls his head back, roaring at the darkness with a death-stained mouth.

  "Oh, Spark?"

  I got a bad feeling. He does like his drama. "Yes?"

  "Don't go trying to keep my Kate all to yourself. She has a family here now, you know. A home."

  "She's not here then?" I shouldn't have asked. It's never good to let him know your business.

  "No. Why, having a lover's tiff are we? Haha." Oliver smirked, I wanted to slap his head off his shoulders.

  "No, just wondered. Thanks. Nice to meet you, Yrjo." I ignored Oliver. "Have a nice evening."

  "Oh, we will, Spark, you can count on it."

  I got back inside the car as fast as possible while still walking with a cool swagger to show I wasn't intimidated. I watched them as I reversed to turn around. Three vampires under white light, one wearing clothes not out of place in a typical vampire movie, all flowing long black coat, gloves and flawless hair. Taavi with his pale skin and stretched features, and Oliver, out of place, looking like a tennis coach next to the two ancients.

  As the dogs barked and the handlers pulled on chains, I drove off into the night. They should put a warning up in the city center—no talking to strangers after dark.

  I've often wondered how so many people must go missing to feed the vampires and it never seems to make the news or get reported. How do they do it?

  Vampires are everywhere, that's why. They keep it cover
ed up.

  Our world isn't called Hidden for no reason.

  Follow that Cat

  As I drove back to the city center, the predawn seemed to reverse its promise. Gray clouds gathered above the open fields as if a day was all we would get and now it was back to drizzle and drab—at least we had a day. There would be a lot of sunburned people and a lot of moaning, but this is Wales, and it rains. A lot.

  Something was bugging me the whole way. I thought back over my conversation with Taavi and tried not to think about what they would be doing at that precise moment. What had he said? They hadn't taken Grandma, or Rikka. But the girl, she had been killed by one of their own. Yet he had no idea who.

  Like a wild animal. Not a clean kill.

  The poor girl, what must it have been like? To know you are being taken by a vampire. Aware there is nothing you can do. The best I could hope for was that she had been glamored and felt nothing, maybe even enjoyed it and gave herself willingly. It was wishful thinking—she was a witch in training so she would have fought, and lost.

  Taavi's words haunted me. Like a wild animal. Not a clean kill.

  With a slight hit of dark magic, my mind sank deeper. Letting everything else go, I recalled the previous day in its entirety, nothing left out, trying to uncover a clue, something that would help lead me to answers. It had been too manic; too many people and creatures. I don't work well that way.

  Then it hit me and I slammed my foot on the brake, almost getting crumpled by the car behind as the driver worked on the horn and started with the obscenities. I apologized like a good citizen, did a quick u-turn, and headed out of the center once more.

  See, this is why I work on my own, as an Alone. If it had just been me I'm sure I would have spotted it right there and then.

  Schrödinger's cat. Alive and not alive. Stanley had told me and Kate he could say no more as that would effect what happened in the future, changing the outcome. Did I mention I hate seers? Ugh.

  The clouds had won, and although warm there was no sign of a clear sky any time soon as I pulled up in Stanley's street and turned off the headlights. It was early, just gone four, the streets as vacant as a Troll's ambition. Nobody leaving for work, or walking the dog.