by Megan Berry
et vapor sizzle, turbent ut aqua, his ulcus magicae potionem.
Harper tapped the foreign words into her new app and grinned. Great, magical spells rhymed, apparently. Steam to sizzle, water roil, magic makes the potion boil. Harper read the translation out loud in English and as the last word left her mouth, she felt a jolt of power ripple through her body that made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before.
The pot on the stove hissed to life, the water instantly boiling out of control. Harper jumped back to avoid being hit by the spitting, angry drops of hot water, but a large drop landed on her arm anyway, forcing a small cry of pain from her lips. Harper turned to the pot, puzzled. She was far enough back that it was impossible for the water to reach her. Unless… she heard an angry hiss to her left and turned to find that the bouquets of flowers that had been delivered after her gran’s funeral were also boiling out of control. The flowers, six vases in all, were limp and wilted as the water continued to scorch them mercilessly. Even the sink was steaming as the stray beads of water clinging to the stainless steel began to heat up and evaporate.
“No!” Harper cried as the flowers lit on fire and became six separate, small infernos. Harper raced to the sink as the fire alarm started going off. She turned on the faucet, but as soon as the water came out it was influenced by her magic and evaporated into steam. Sweat began to pop out on Harper’s body and began to sizzle and heat up as well.
“Oh my God!” Harper shouted, having no idea what to do. She’d only just inherited this house and now she was going to burn it to the ground and herself along with it.
“God isn’t the one here with a fire extinguisher…” his words startled Harper, and she turned to find Jasper standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a perplexed look on his face. “…So I told you that you weren’t ready to boil water, and it’s the first thing you decided to try?” he asked with a quirk of his dark brow. Harper wanted to smack him, but her entire body was heating up the more she sweated and the fire was starting to spread from the flowers to the countertop. She released a deep breath, trying to calm herself enough to quit sweating so profusely—it didn’t work.
“Can you help me or not?” she demanded as her shirt started to smoke, and Jasper nodded, suddenly serious. He produced a fire extinguisher from behind his back and set to work putting all the fires out. It only took him a minute as he moved through each one like a terminator, and then the flowers were extinguished and he was standing in front of Harper with the nozzle pointed in her direction.
“You look a little hot—do I need to spray you down too?” he asked, only half joking. His expression turned serious as he took in the tiny burn marks all over her body and the smoke roiling from beneath her t-shirt. She was about to go up in flames any minute!
“I don’t know!” Harper cried, unable to figure any of this out.
Without another word, Jasper doused her. “Close your eyes,” he warned a second before she was covered in white foaming coolant. Harper spluttered and coughed and turned away from the direct blast, and Jasper sprayed her back down too.
“Ugh!” she screeched as she spit and spluttered until she was finally able to talk once again. Jasper looked her over casually and shrugged.
“It worked didn’t it?” he asked, and Harper opened her mouth to yell at him, but then shut it again. It actually had worked. Nothing else was on fire, and besides the burns she’d already suffered, she didn’t feel any new ones popping up.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You mean besides you almost burning yourself, and me by proxy, to death?” Jasper snapped. Harper felt her temper flare, but she could also see where he was coming from. She would hate to have her life tied to someone else’s the way his was.
“Yeah,” she said, a bit meeker this time.
“Spraying you distracted you from the spell. It severed the connection. You’ll need to learn a few basics before you just start casting spells all over the house,” he lectured her. Harper’s knees buckled and she sagged against the floor. Her body ached like a bad rash from the burns, and a couple spots were already starting to blister up.
“I’m sorry,” Harper admitted, her throat a bit hoarse from smoke inhalation, and Jasper sighed. It was obvious that he wanted to tear into her some more, but she was also so pathetic that he felt a stirring of pity. He sighed and went over to the sink and brought her back a glass of water, holding it out to her. Harper shied away from it.
“Apology not accepted,” he told her as he reached his fingers into the glass and shook the cool drops in her face to show her that it was no longer boiling. Harper’s fingers trembled as she took the glass and greedily chugged the entire thing.
She looked up at Jasper and let out a tiny burp. “Oh!” she exclaimed, slapping her hand over her mouth and wincing when it hurt her burns. “Excuse me.”
Jasper looked down at her and couldn’t help shaking his head. She was as red as a lobster; he couldn’t even tell if she was blushing or just burnt.
Jasper offered her a hand up, and after a moment she took his hand, letting out a little squeak when his palm closed around her burnt wrists. “You got lucky, this is really no worse than a bad sunburn,” he remarked as his eyes travelled calculatingly over her body, assessing the damage. “I can help you heal,” he offered, holding his wrist up to his mouth and nicking the skin with the point of his razor-sharp fangs. His blood bubbled to the surface, red and frothy, and Harper winced.
“Yeah. This part is just like the movies. My blood will heal you.” Jasper started to crowd closer to her, and Harper kept backing up until her back was pressed against the counter. He held his wrist up to her mouth, and Harper’s entire being rebelled against the idea of drinking blood, especially vampire blood. She didn’t know enough about it to even make an informed decision. Would it turn her into a vampire?
“I don’t want it,” she managed to get out as he pushed his wrist closer. Harper pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head.
“Do you always have to be such a stubborn girl?” the vampire demanded, pinning her in place. Harper knew a vampire had to be strong, but she was shocked by just how much strength he had. She shook her head and tried to squirm away, but he was immoveable and she only succeeded in smearing the blood across her face, making her splutter and spit.
Harper panicked and the self-defense training she had taken last year at her company’s team-building retreat kicked in, and she brought her knee to the vampire’s groin as hard as she could. She didn’t know if it would work on a vampire, but she was glad when he groaned and stepped back, cupping his family jewels, and bent over.
The thrill of victory quickly turned to gut-clenching fear when Jasper looked up at her with eyes that glowed red. He was obviously pissed. “Hey!” she yelped, holding her hands up in surrender. “Take it easy. You’re not allowed to kill me!” she reminded him as she scuttled past him. He caught her wrist and pulled her back towards him, his fangs drawn and his eyes still shining blood red. “Please don’t hurt me!” She threw her pride away and finally begged. Jasper stopped in his tracks as her words sunk in, and he blinked, his eyes returning to their regular vivid blue.
“That was not very nice,” he told her succinctly told her as he retreated a couple steps away to put some much needed distance between them, and Harper winced.
“Neither is trying to force-feed someone your blood,” she pointed out, never knowing when to keep her mouth shut. His eyes flared red again for a minute before he got control of himself. He surprised her by grinning at her finally, though it wasn’t a very nice smile at all.
“Go ahead and suffer through your burns, healing the old-fashioned way, see if I care.” He gave her a nasty look. “It could be fixed in minutes, but if you’d rather suffer for a week or more, be my guest.” He burst out laughing as he surveyed her. “It will be much longer before your hair grows back though,” he informed her, not sounding the least bit upset about it, and Harper felt her hea
rt thump painfully within her chest.
“My hair?” she asked, her voice going all high and squeaky as fear creeped into her belly. Her eyes went wide as she dashed to the bathroom and let out an angry yowl.
The woman staring back at her was a stranger. Her skin was red and blistered, so much that she resembled an angry crab, and her hair—. Harper winced. Her hair was never going to be the same. Large chunks had been burnt off, leaving her singed scalp exposed—and that was just the part she could see. The rest of her head and body were covered in fluffy white foam from the fire extinguisher, but everything ached, so she knew instinctively that she was burnt there as well.
“Your blood…it could fix my hair?” she asked, trembling as she turned to the vampire who had followed her into the bathroom to enjoy the show.
“Good as new,” he agreed, examining his fingernails casually as he leaned against the door jam.
“Will you help me?” she asked, nearly choking on the words, and the vampire gave her a thoughtful look.
“Of course,” he said at last. “I already told you I would before you rudely kneed me in the balls.” He managed to say this with only a hint of anger tinging his words this time, and Harper hesitated.
“Why would you still help me?” she asked, unable to leave it alone, and the vampire frowned.
“I’m not helping you. I’m helping myself. What if one of your foolish blisters gets infected? You could catch sepsis and die, selfishly taking me along with you.” Harper eyed him suspiciously, not believing his excuse for a minute.
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. She could handle a lot of pain, but her vanity would not allow her to walk around with singed, bald patches of scalp for all the world to see.
“Pride go-eth before the fall,” the vampire quoted as he bit into his wrist, and Harper swallowed visibly at the sight of the blood.
“Could we put it into a glass or something?” she asked, hesitating, not really wanting to suck on his wrist. Jasper pretended to think about it for a minute.
“I’m afraid not. It’s more potent straight from the source,” he fibbed, and Harper frowned.
“Why?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips. She was certain he was being intentionally unhelpful.
“Because I said so,” he snapped, eying her as he began to pull his wrist away. “If you’re not interested, just say so, I’m growing weary of biting holes in myself.” Harper panicked, terrified he was going to deny her his blood.
“Okay!” she said, stepping forward, and Jasper gave her another one of his smug looks. He held his wrist up and Harper grimaced as she settled her mouth around the pulsing wound.
She expected it to taste coppery and disgusting, but it was the polar opposite. The moment the blood hit her tongue, it tickled every endorphin in her brain, making her gasp and clamp her teeth down harder, greedily drawing more down her throat.
“Easy tiger,” Jasper cautioned as she sucked at his wrist. He let her go for another full minute before he gently pulled away. Consuming vampire blood was a heady experience that would heal almost any wound, but it could also be destructively addictive.
Harper felt a little disorientated as the blood was jerked away. She licked his blood from her lips and forced herself to meet Jasper’s eye. She was embarrassed by her actions, even as her eyes drifted hungrily back to the wound. It was already healing, right before her eyes.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, wiping her hand across her jaw to remove the stray droplets, and Jasper shrugged.
“Nothing to be sorry about. That’s what vampire blood does to everyone,” Jasper reassured her. “I actually know of a couple vamps that are selling it on the internet.” Jasper shook his head. “I doubt I’ll ever understand new technology.” Harper blinked up at the vampire, wondering what someone as old as Jasper considered to be new technology—guns, cars, grocery store meats, or just the internet?
“You should grab a shower and get yourself cleaned up. I’d be willing to bet you’ll be back to your old self by the time you’re done,” Jasper said when Harper looked deep in thought.
Harper was left in the bathroom looking at herself in the mirror. She could feel her skin tingling and the redness was already starting to fade. It was tempting to sit and watch the transformation, but she was too covered in goop to see much of anything. She shook her head and turned on the shower full blast—waiting until most of the pinkness had left her skin before braving the hot spray. So far being a witch sucked, and she was feeling pretty homesick for Chicago.
The air was thick with steam when she emerged, and Harper held her breath as she wiped her hand across the fogged up bathroom mirror. Her jaw fell slack, she looked amazing! Her skin was clear, spotless of any burns, and her hair looked the same as it always had, long and thick and dark, falling well past her shoulder. Harper let out a sigh of relief and sagged against the sink as tears pricked at her green eyes. She knew she’d lucked out tonight. She was definitely in the vampire’s debt.
Jasper watched her emerge from the bathroom wrapped up in a towel and stop when she saw him sitting on the couch. She blushed, and Jasper was amused by how prim and proper she was. Liz had been hell on wheels. Her granddaughter just didn’t seem to be made of the same sturdy stuff. Jasper frowned, that didn’t bode well for him.
“I didn’t bring any clothes in with me,” she mumbled, awkwardly motioning to her towel clad body. “The clothes I was wearing were pretty much wrecked.” She sighed, thinking about how she hadn’t brought that many clothes with her at all. “I think I’ll…”
“Don’t say burn them!” Jasper said, faking a gasp of horror, and Harper shot him an annoyed look. He might’ve just saved her from looking like a fool for months on end, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to let her forget it anytime soon.
“Of course not!” Harper snapped, “I was going to say throw them in the garbage.” Jasper gave her a wink, and she turned away with a huff of annoyance and went upstairs to change.
She settled on a boring pair of sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt, just in case she accidentally started anymore fires. She was passing her gran’s room when she paused and stared at the door. It had been left open a crack and she felt a draw, pulling her from somewhere behind her belly button. Her hand hovered on the door knob and she thought about just shutting the door and calling it a night, but for some reason, she couldn’t. Harper took a step into the bedroom, her eyes coming to rest on a worn old trunk at the end of the bed. Something inside was calling her name.
Harper tip-toed closer, feeling like a little kid who was sneaking into her gran’s room to steal candy off the dresser. The trunk was old looking, made of thick and sturdy wood with leather hinges that looked like they’d suffered a bit of mildew in the past. Harper tried to pull the lid up, but it wouldn’t budge. She brought her hand closer to examine the lock, tracing it with her finger, and a golden light shot out of the moonstone ring, forming the shape of a golden key, and inserted itself, as solid as smoke, into the keyhole. Harper heard a click and blinked in surprise, startled.
She stared at the trunk, not sure she even wanted to see what was inside, not after the ring had scared the bejesus out of her. The call was very loud though, like a tugging insistence, and finally curiosity got the better of her. She opened the trunk and winced when the lid let out a major creak. The inside of the trunk looked like an episode of Hoarders. Harper plucked out a ceremonial looking dagger and shivered. Who knew what her gran had done with the thing? She gingerly replaced it, not liking the way the rubies on the handle fired to life when her ring came near them. Harper pulled out a photo album and slowly flipped through the time-faded pages, finding pictures of her gran as a young girl, and then an older young woman, and her grandfather as well, whom she’d never met. She saw pictures of her dad when he was a little boy, and her gran standing next to a man wearing clothing from a different era. She had to look twice, but it was definitely Jasper. They were both smiling and looked happy, and it made Harp
er frown. There was so much she didn’t know about her gran.
Harper picked up a pretty looking purple and pink crystal that began to heat up in her hand the second she touched it, and she dropped it wearily, wiping her hands on her pant leg. She tucked the photo album underneath her arm and got to her feet. She shouldn’t be messing with this stuff, and after setting the kitchen on fire, she didn’t want to get burned twice—literally.
Harper was shutting the lid when a small book that looked like a journal caught her eye. It was sitting on top of a manila file folder and, against her better judgement, Harper scooped them both up before trudging back downstairs to the kitchen table, ignoring Jasper, who had his eyes glued to the TV in the living room.
The folder drew her interest first. She flipped it open and winced, covering her eyes to block out the blood-soaked pile of flesh that had been immortalized by a large 8x12 glossy photograph. Harper took a steadying breath and slowly opened her eyes to look again. The picture was still there, and it was as gory as she’d thought. She looked down at the woman who had been photographed on a damp sidewalk. Her clothing suggested that this had happened sometime in the past, and her throat was torn out.
Harper gulped, her hand making its way to her own throat as she flipped the page. More gore met her every time she flipped the page, this time it was a man, lying prone on the grass, his throat ripped out the same as all the others.
Harper flipped the page again and again, and it was all just more of the same. Fifteen victims in all. The last victim didn’t have their throat ripped out, but they were dead and they had twin puncture marks on their shoulder. Harper gulped, turned the page, and stopped short when she saw a picture of Jasper staring back at her. She had to swallow a scream as she read the report underneath.
Jasper Deluca.
Aliases- Unknown.
Riley, Alabama Slayer: Located. Twenty-seven victims in all attributed.
Species: Vampire.
Punishment: Death.
Harper felt her head spin in fear as she scrambled to her feet and started to run up the stairs. She stopped and ran back to the fridge, certain she had seen garlic in there. She grabbed a bag of garlic that was starting to sprout and took off for the stairs.