The Vampire's Spell - Kiss of The Night: Book 3

by Lucy Lyons

  Ashe shoved the diary back onto the shelf and left the archive room wishing she had never gone there in the first place. Even if no one knew that Peter was a vampire, Ashe couldn’t live in the town any longer knowing what she did.

  The library was deathly quiet, the atrium too. Will was still missing which Ashe was thankful for. She couldn’t face him, not now. His father had been one of the men who had fought, and died, with vampire blood on his hands.

  Ashe left the library without care that her shift was not over yet. The buildings that had once seemed beautiful were now menacing, their shadows bearing down on Ashe as she hurried towards the theater. She had to warn Peter about the town’s history as soon as possible. She didn’t know if the council still operated, but it wasn’t a chance she was willing to take. Morris was no longer her home.

  Peter was back at the door. The thought of what lay behind it had been nagging him and making it hard to focus on his work. He grabbed hold of the doorknob, bracing himself for the ill feeling that had gripped him the first time he had made contact with the door. He felt faint and uneasy but he didn't give in this time. When he wrenched the door open, the feeling hit him full-blast and he reeled back from the open doorway. The stench of death was strong, and whatever was inside had the power to repel vampires. Peter felt an unfamiliar twinge of fear.

  The air that had been trapped in the room dissipated and Peter found himself able to approach the doorway without as much trouble as he had had the first time. The room was rather large but entirely unfurnished. A window on the opposite wall let in a hazy shaft of light that filled the space with its weak warmth. A dried bouquet of mayflowers was hung above the door, but it no longer held its potency and crumbled under Peter’s touch. He stepped inside.

  Something terrible had happened in here. There were scratch marks along the floor and deep gouges in the wood paneling of the walls. Peter approached one of the bundles of cloth lying on the floor and pulled away the fabric to reveal a pile of bones. The sharp fangs in the skull told Peter who the bones had belonged to. They were vampires, all of them. There must have been around twenty of them in total. Some had hawthorn stakes lodged in their dusty ribcages, but others did not. The ones without must have been trapped in the room and starved. The light coming in the window was not nearly strong enough to harm Peter, but it would be deadly to a vampire weakened by starvation. He could imagine the desperation of the vampires who had died in here, surrounded by their dead friends and clawing to get out before the sun rose again. The oldest among them would have died first and the youngest last. Peter shivered. Whoever had closed them in here must have done so with pure hatred in their heart.

  Peter became aware of the sound of footsteps in the hallway. They were approaching quickly and there was no time for Peter to leave the room without being seen. Though he had never been told explicitly that this area was off-limits to him, Jerry’s insistence on keeping him busy in the main theater gave him the impression that Jerry would not be happy to find Peter back here. The footsteps were nearly at the door. He would soon find out just how much trouble he was in.

  “Peter?” The soft female voice made Peter feel instantly relieved. Ashe was standing in the doorway, her auburn hair glowing like fire in the soft light cast by the window.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” he asked. It couldn’t already be evening. He didn’t think he had lost track of that much time wandering around back there.

  Ashe shook her head dismissively. “Work isn’t important. I have to tell you what I found out about the theater.”

  Peter felt the same. He had to tell Ashe what this place was.

  She caught sight of one of the stacks of bones. “What is that?”

  “Bones,” Peter replied. “Vampire bones. Let’s get out of here first and I’ll explain back at the house.”

  There was no protest from Ashe, who seemed fully aware of the danger of the situation. He tried to remain casual as he led her out into the atrium and past Jerry who was carrying in something large and flat and covered by a sheet.

  “Quitting time already?” Jerry asked pausing to greet them.

  Peter gave his best apologetic smile. “Boss said I could duck out a little early today. I’ll make up the time on Monday.”

  Jerry nodded. “Don’t want to keep your girl waiting. I get that.”

  He resumed carrying the large flat object, but nearly dropped it as his foot got caught in the sheet covering it. The sheet slipped off of it, revealing a shiny new mirror underneath. Peter caught a glimpse of Ashe’s reflection and the empty space where his own should have been before jumping in to help Jerry get the sheet back in place. He hoped the man hadn’t caught the lack of Peter’s reflection in the mirror.

  Jerry said nothing, and went back to his work. Peter quickly led Ashe out of the theater.

  “The mirror,” Ashe said once they were safely outside. “Do you think he saw?”

  Peter shook his head. He could only hope it was the case that Jerry hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

  The sky outside was orange but growing darker with every minute. The air felt electric and smelled of oncoming rain. Peter held Ashe’s hand tightly as they walked briskly down the sidewalk towards their neighborhood. They said little to each other until they were inside the house. Peter knew that Ashe had something to tell him about the theater that might better explain what he had found in that back room. One thing he knew was that they couldn’t stay in town much longer. He hoped Ashe could accept that.

  Ashe was the first to speak as she poured herself a glass of water at the kitchen counter.

  “We can’t stay here any longer.”

  Peter could see that her hand was shaking. She looked thin, ill, and Peter worried that she was sick. She put the glass to her lips but sputtered as soon as the water hit her tongue. She set the glass down.

  “I got into the town records today, to see if I could find out anything about the insignia you showed me or the closure of the theater.”

  “And you found something about vampires.”

  Ashe smiled grimly. “About twenty years ago there was a battle inside the theater between the people of the town and a group of vampires. The vampires were slaughtered, though quite a few humans died with them.”

  Peter knew how much Ashe had wanted a place to call home. It must have broken her heart to find out the truth about the town’s past. “That room you found me in was filled with bodies. There must have been twenty or more of them.”

  “It’s not safe for you here,” Ashe said quietly. “I’m ready to leave as soon as you are. We can pack our things tonight.”

  Peter could feel the tug of Ashe’s emotion but fought to keep it out of his head. It wasn’t working. It seemed the harder he fought, the stronger the telepathic bond became. He could feel Ashe’s longing to stay in the town despite her own words. Something was making her reluctant to go.

  “Are you sure?” Peter asked. “I can sense you don’t want to go.”

  Ashe sighed. “It’s not so much that I don’t want to leave Morris. I know that staying in town would be stupid. It’s just, I’m sad that it didn’t work out here. I would have liked to see the theater re-open and this house become a real home for the two of us.”

  “We’ll find somewhere else,” Peter said. “Somewhere better.”

  Ashe bit her lip. “I guess I should go pack.”

  Peter could tell she was still conflicted about leaving, but she said nothing more as she turned towards the bedroom. Images of Ashe and Peter’s brief life here streamed through Peter’s head. Though he enjoyed the memories, Peter knew that he needed to tell Ashe that her thoughts were transmitting. He had promised her to do so whenever it occurred.

  As he turned toward her, the image appeared in Peter’s head of a quiet, secluded corner of the library. Will was there looking at Ashe with intense hunger in his eyes. He seemed entranced, almost like a victim under a vampire’s spell. He told Ashe she was beautiful an
d bent down to kiss her.

  Rage burned through Peter and the image was lost. He couldn’t believe that she had betrayed him like that. The bedroom door slammed shut and Ashe screamed. She stood staring at the closed bedroom door like she had seen a ghost.

  “What did you just do?” Ashe asked. Fear gave her tone a wobbling quality that Peter didn’t like. He tried to control his anger but it burned even brighter.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Peter shot back, though he was growing unsure. Why did Ashe look so frightened?

  She backed away from the door like it was somehow dangerous. “The door just slammed and I didn’t do it. Peter, it must have been you.”

  It didn’t make sense. Peter could read thoughts, not manipulate things around him. Vampires rarely manifested secondary psychic abilities, and never this quickly. Peter should not have been able to do it.

  “Please say something,” Ashe pleaded. There were tears in her eyes.

  Peter couldn’t explain what had just happened. He knew even less than Ashe did. All he knew was that he had seen Ashe kissing another man, and then the rage had come and the door had slammed.

  He wanted to confront Ashe about Will, but the words fell dead in his mouth. He was scared she would tell him how she really felt, that she didn’t love him and was going to leave him for someone who she didn’t have to be scared of all the time. Will was human, like Ashe, and Peter never could be.

  Peter had waited too long to reply. “I’m going out,” Ashe said, heading for the front door. Her cheeks were wet. Peter had an idea of where she was going but made no move to follow her.

  Peter stared at the front door for some time after Ashe had left. His inability to control his own power worried him, and he remembered what Winnie had said to him on the phone. It could drain his energy, make him hungry and possibly dangerous. He had to be careful. He was losing himself, and even worse he was losing Ashe.

  Peter focused his remaining mental energy on the front door. He willed it to open, though he hoped it would not. For a while there was no change. Peter then recalled the jealousy he had felt seeing Will with Ashe, that feeling like he had just been punched in the gut by a steel fist. He had never felt anything like it before, nothing even close. As the feeling rushed back, the doorknob wiggled then turned as the bolt slid out from the lock. The door creaked open.

  CHAPTER 4

  Ashe was still shaking as she got into the car. She couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the fear. Though she still felt ill and was likely running a fever, she couldn’t bear to be in the house right now. She was thirsty too, though when she had tried to drink her body wouldn’t let her. She had felt like her tongue was burning as the water touched it. She was going to the library, if for no other reason than to feel normal for a little while. That, and to say goodbye to Will. She didn’t want to leave him thinking that she hated him. After everything, he was still a friend.

  She turned the ignition and checked her rearview mirror. Peter hadn’t followed her outside. It was all for the better. She didn’t want to confront Peter about the door slamming on its own while she was still so shaken up. She loved him and wanted to help him through whatever he was going through, but she didn’t know how. There was still so much about the vampire world she didn’t understand and it was becoming clear that Peter himself understood little of the changes his powers were going through. Even worse, she suspected that she knew the reason for Peter’s outburst. He had seen her memories, including the one that she had been recalling just moments before the door had slammed.

  Thinking back on other occasions, it became clear that Peter’s odd behavior and sudden turns of mood had likely been due to his jealousy of Will. Just like how Peter felt powerless to control his telepathy, Ashe felt like her own thoughts were working against her. Her mind seemed to wander at the worst of times, picking up a random scramble of memories from the day and pushing them to the front of her brain without her consent. The image of Will’s face had flashed before her eyes on that day when she thought she and Peter would finally grow intimate. She hadn’t wanted it there, but it had come nonetheless. Peter had no doubt picked this up and been hurt. If only Ashe had known about his power then.

  The car’s tires crunched against the cracked asphalt as Ashe pulled into the library parking lot. Most of the spaces were already filled, which was an odd sight for the usually lifeless building. It was then that Ashe remembered the town meeting that Will had invited her to. She didn’t know if she could face everyone now that she was aware of the town’s bloody past.

  She was about to get back into her car when the old man from the gas station came out from the front doors of the library. He waved.

  “First town meeting, I see,” he said.

  She faked a smile and approached him. “Yeah, Will Morris invited me.”

  “Well if you've got his approval, no complaint from me.”

  The old man led her into the library through a side door that opened directly into a small classroom used for school trips and community events. The desks had been pushed to the walls and the chairs sat in a circle in the center of the room. Ashe recognized Peter’s coworkers from the theater among the group, as well as some people she seen around town but did not know by name. All together it was a fairly small group, even for a town the size of Morris. Will was there too, as he said he would be. His face looked drawn and his shoulders stooped.

  A few curious glances flickered her way as she approached the ring of chairs.

  “Ashe is joining us today,” the old man announced. “Will invited her.” The curious glances stopped.

  Ashe took the only remaining empty seat, which happened to be next to Will.

  “I didn’t think you were going to come,” he said as she sat down.

  “I almost didn’t,” Ashe replied. She could feel eyes on her and said no more. She hoped they could talk privately after the meeting.

  Will stood from his chair and cleared his throat. “Now that everyone’s here, we can begin.” The group went quiet. “As you all know, tonight’s the anniversary of the night the old theater closed its doors for good twenty-two years ago. So many of our loved ones, my father included, lost their lives protecting our town that night. Though Jerry and Greg are working hard to rebuild the place and bring back some of those good memories that the theater kept for us, there is still a lot of healing that needs to be done.” He paused to give a solemn look. “Which is why I’ve set aside some time for us to talk about that night, and to give closure to those of us who need it.”

  Ashe felt vaguely nervous knowing that she was about to hear more about the incident that had made Morris a place she was no longer welcome. It was one thing to read dusty old diary accounts in some back room of the town archives, but quite another to hear the words come to life through the very person who had experienced the event first-hand.

  As Will sat down, he whispered to her, “Listen with an open mind. You might not believe what you hear tonight, but I assure you it’s all true.”

  Ashe knew what Will was referring to, and needed no preface to the horrors she was about to hear. She debated briefly whether to use her illness as an excuse to leave, but the first story had already started.

  “We were stupid kids, eighteen and just married. The stupidest you can get,” Jerry said, his hands still fidgeting in his lap. “But not stupid enough to believe the rumors going around, the ones about satanic rituals and new street drugs turning people into zombies. Of course, we had noticed some of our old friends acting distant but we just assumed it was because we’d gotten married and tended to do things as a couple rather than hang out with everyone as a group.

  “Anyway, people started to go missing and eventually some people got wise to what was really going on. At first I didn’t believe it, but when my wife’s sister got turned we knew we had to do something. The town was readying for its attack and they needed volunteers. We were still just kids, but my wife was always a firecracker and she signed us up withou
t any thought.”

  Ashe thought she knew where his story was going, and could already feel the tug of pain in her heart. The fact that Jerry had come to the meeting alone was indication enough that his wife was no longer alive.

  Jerry continued. “We were supposed to be outside, helping chain the doors shut and making sure none of the bloodsuckers got out. I only looked away for a second but it was enough. One of them had escaped out a window and was on Martha before any of us could do anything. I’ll never forget how black her blood looked or the sound of her sobs as I ran to save her.”

  Jerry’s voice cracked, his eyes filling with tears. His shoulders slumped in his chair and he looked utterly empty, like the effort of telling his story had used up the last reserves of his being and he was now just a dry husk of a man. The woman sitting next to him patted his back in a gesture of consolation while waving her other hand to let someone else speak.

  One by one, the people in the circle recounted their own stories of that terrible night. Some spoke at length while others gave little more than a few words of memorial to a lost friend or loved one. Ashe felt her heart breaking with every word, knowing that for every vampire like Peter there were a hundred more that were no better than monsters. She was truly lucky to have met him and to have his protection from the worst of his kind.

  The last person to speak was Will. He turned to Ashe so that he was addressing her directly rather than the group as a whole.

  “My dad died that night,” he said, his blue eyes searching her face for sympathy, perhaps, or disbelief.

  “I’m sorry,” Ashe muttered.

  Will nodded in gratitude. He said, “I know it’s a lot to ask you, to believe what you’ve heard tonight. But Morris is different from other towns. We know of the dangers that lurk in the darkness, and more importantly we know how to fight them.”