by Lisa De Palo
Dimitry twisted Marco’s head around and he could see his face in all his fury beginning to morph between man and bat. Every one of his teeth sharpened like fine needles, his nose flattened and his skin darkened to deep charcoal.
“It’s not her fault,” Marco begged. “She didn’t even know what she was until weeks ago. Kill me instead!”
“Hahaha,” Dimitry cackled. “No, no, no, my dear son, I am not going to kill you. I need you to bring me your dear Layla! But I do want something-”
Dimitry wrenched a pair of silver pliers into Marco’s face and twisted them down into his mouth.
“No, Dimitry,” Marco choked. “Please!”
But it was no use. Dimitry forced the pliers in and Marco felt his gums slicing against the metal and scrape against his teeth, he shook from side to side as hard as he could, but Dimitry was strong, stronger than he could have ever imagined.
Again, his head was pulled back, and Dimitry used the clasps to force his mouth open wide. It sliced through Marco’s mouth and gums, and Marco howled as he felt them clamp down on his incisor. He heard the crunch and felt the blood spurt out. Marco cried at the pressure until Dimitry ripped his fang right out and threw it to the floor.
Marco howled and choked on his own blood.
“One more,” Dimitry growled through clenched teeth.
Again Dimitry forced his way in and Marco hadn’t the strength to fight him. The second fang was ripped out and Marco slumped forward where he hung, letting the blood run freely down his chin, pooling on the floor beneath him.
“There,” Dimitry said, putting the pliers back into their case. “You are no longer one of us. You’re not even a real vampire anymore, Marco. You’re nothing but a thing walking this Earth eternally.”
Marco spat blood from his mouth as he slowly cast his gaze back into Dimitry’s eyes. But the old vampire smiled and left him hanging. The metal door slammed shut, the lock slid and bolted and eventually the candles burnt out. Marco was left to his own demise hanging in the darkness of his own hell.
9
DISTRESS
Stepping off of Jeremiah’s bike was difficult for Layla. They had stopped in front of Sophie’s home, but she wasn’t who she once was, yet her emotions remained. She fidgeted and clawed at her skin trying to think of an excuse not to see her. What would Sophie think of Layla know?
“What are you doing, Layla?” Jeremiah asked, noticing she was leaning on the bike still.
She looked up at him with eyes full of remorse.
“How can I face her, Jere?”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before, let’s go.”
Layla raised her eyebrows at his lack of empathy. She reluctantly slid off the bike and made her way to the front door. Jeremiah was about to knock when the door flung open. Sophie’s eyes darted straight to Layla and she looked her up and down. Layla hung her head in shame, but Sophie flew out the door and took her niece in her arms.
“Come inside, quickly,” Sophie said as she gave Layla a last squeeze.
Jeremiah held back as the two girls entered the house, he looked around and checked the streets before following inside.
“Sophie, did you-” Jeremiah started.
“I have painted the right sigils, Jeremiah. I have double checked, this place is cloaked well don’t worry,” Sophie said.
Layla let Sophie take her arm and gently pull her toward the couch. She sat her down so she was comfortable and ran over to draw all the curtains closed.
“Now,” she said. “Can I get you two a drink? A soda? Water? Maybe a bite to eat?”
Jeremiah and Layla turned to look at each other curiously.
“Are you okay, Sophie?” Jeremiah asked.
Sophie stopped where she was and her head drooped, she exhaled deeply and shook her head. Slowly, she turned and walked back toward her niece and sat beside her. She took in Layla’s pale skin and frowned her lips as she gracefully pushed Layla’s long white fringe from her face.
“Blonde is a nice color on you,” Sophie said.
Layla knew she was lying, trying to make her feel better but it didn’t work. Layla managed a half smile.
Sophie took hold of Layla’s hands, trying her best not to react to the ice cold skin she felt. Jeremiah lingered behind and looked on at the awkwardness of the two girls. He lowered his eyebrows trying to understand their ways, yet the feelings they portrayed seemed to confuse him.
Layla was filled with hopelessness, her eyes glazed tears over the surface and she hated that Sophie had to see her like this. She felt guilt, anger and something else that she just couldn’t understand, and then she remembered that all her selfish and stupid actions had brought her to this. She sat there innocently faced but under the surface, she was drowning.
“I’m so sorry,” Layla whispered.
Sophie looked at her straight-faced and let out a sigh of defeat.
“Sweetheart,” Sophie said softly. “The damage is done, now we just need to find a way to move forward and make this work without any of us getting killed. You know that Jeremiah is an angel, he will protect us.”
She squeezed Layla’s hands and gave her niece a forced smile. Layla turned half her body to look at Jeremiah and her eyes sparkled, yet his face lacked emotion and the only thing she could sense was a deep disappointment from him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sophie said, picking up on the tension. “I am going to fight with you and show you how to be strong. You’re not alone, Layla, and you never will be.”
Layla’s lip turned up slightly and she leaned forward to embrace her aunt. Her chin rested on Sophie’s shoulder and Layla began to sob droplets of vermilion tears, a couple of them fell and stained the back of her hand. She tried her best to quickly wipe the tears away before her aunt had a chance to see what sort of monster she had become. Jeremiah noticed her crimson tears and shook his head in disgust.
“Look, Jeremiah,” Layla said as she pulled back and wiped her eyes. “I understand you are pissed at me. I know I was selfish, I was immature and didn’t listen to you, but holding anger and grudges towards me isn’t going to help, is it?”
He stood up and turned his back to her. The stubbornness burned in Layla as he stared out the window, forcefully ignoring her words.
“Can you forgive me?” Layla asked.
He turned slowly and looked her dead in the eye.
“Layla, you do understand that you have lost your soul, right?”
Layla looked back toward her aunt and was furious that he had brought that up in front of her. The burning rage grew in Layla and she stepped up to his face.
“Of course I know this,” she spat. “What? Do you think I have been off with the fairies all this time? That I’ve been playing around with my new found powers?
No! I have sat and wallowed in my own self-pity for weeks… I know exactly what I have become and what I have lost! I know the curse of immortality, and that I will have to watch everyone I love die while I go on living.
When I died, Jeremiah, I lost my soul and now I will never live a normal life… I’m a monster… but you know what… I never asked to become this!”
10
AUDACITY
Anastasia geared up in her black leggings and sexy tight black top. She strapped a long dagger to one thigh and a micro magnum handgun to the other.
“Kane,” she snapped. “Let’s go.”
They left for the forbidden side of the river to track down Layla.
“Where should we look first?” Kane asked.
“O’Leary’s,” she said with a hint of malice in her voice. “We’ll get the barmaid to talk. What’s her name?”
“Shannon?” Kane smirked.
“The Irish one… She knows everything that happens in the area.”
Shannon was busy serving drinks to some tradesmen when Anastasia and Kane burst in through a curtain of fog. The woman could sense them as soon as they arrived, and as the door slammed open, a whiskey glass sli
pped through the maid’s fingers, and shards smashed all across the floor. She quickly positioned herself and looked back up with a face full of dread.
“Hey lad’s,” she said in her thick Irish drawl. “How about leavin’ ‘ere for a while, leave me with these two, hey?”
The guys sitting at the bar could see she was flustered and one of the old tradesmen stood up. He turned slowly to Kane and looked him up and down.
“What’s this pale suit think he is?” he slurred. “In the wrong pub, I reckon…”
Anastasia flew at the man and wrenched him up by his sweater until his feet were a couple of inches off of the ground. Kane walked lazily over and looked the men up and down.
“Oh, Anastasia,” he said smirking. “Let the poor guy go.”
The old drunk’s jaw fell wide. Anastasia dropped him and he ran as fast as his short legs could take him. The other’s followed as Shannon placed her hands under the counter, fumbling around for her shotgun.
“Anastasia… Kane…” she said nervously. “Why don’t you come sit down and have a drink. It’s so lovely to see you both again.”
“Shannon, please spare me the formalities,” Anastasia smirked. “we aren’t here for a friendly chat, and you can remove your hand from that gun.”
Shannon tried her best to keep a straight face, Anastasia thought it was a funny charade. The woman clearly knew that they were vampires on the wrong side of the river. She slowly brought her hand up in front and put it on the bar.
“Aye, sorry me lovely, you know how it is in this part of town… can never be too careful. Now, what can I get you both?”
“bourbon, neat,” Kane answered quickly.
Anastasia snapped her head to look at Kane in disgust.
“What?” he said as if insulted. “We’re here, we may as well have a drink.”
Anastasia tightened her eyes at him and looked back at Shannon.
“Get me a Bloody Mary,” she hissed.
While Shannon was mixing the drinks, Kane looked around the place smiling. He was playing with the gold ring on his finger, turning it slowly and looking around.
“What are you smirking at Kane?” Anastasia asked.
“It feels like so long ago when I first met you, it wasn’t far from here you know. He turned around on the swivel bar stool pointing toward the back of the room. “I still remember our date night, sitting at that booth with you nervous as all hell. I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on.”
Anastasia’s eyes widened and a soft smile spread across her lips.
“I remember,” she said. “How could I ever forget. That was before we had everything taken from us.”
Kane placed his hand on her leg.
“Not everything, we still have each other. Do you remember when you gave me this?” he asked lifting the ring up for her to see.”
Anastasia blushed.
“I remember,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her face. “That old thing must be a hundred years old.”
“Older, I think,” he said, the smile infectious. “I’ve always loved you, you know.”
“I know,” she smiled back. “And I have always been yours, Kane. I love you.”
Shannon brought the two drinks over to them.
“Here you go, one bourbon on the rocks and a Bloody Mary for the lady.”
Kane took up his drink and held it appreciatively.
“We were wondering if you’ve seen a young girl come through? White hair, about this high, she would have been in a rush,” Kane asked.
Shannon looked up at the ceiling in thought.
“Hmm… so many people come through here, old men mostly, if I have to be honest,” she laughed nervously.
Anastasia stood up and slammed her fist on the bar, her lips curled back revealing her sharp fangs and her forehead scrunched up in fury as she grabbed Shannon by her shirt and pulled her close.
“This is not a joke, lady, you might want to take us seriously.”
Shannon’s face turned pale and her face fell long as if she had just seen a ghost.
“I’m sorry, me lovely, forgive me. I haven’t seen this girl you speak of, but I’ll be sure to let you know if I do.”
Anastasia let her go and cast her gaze toward Kane.
“Yes you will,” Kane said and took a drink from the glass.
He took a pencil from behind the bar and wrote their phone numbers on one of the bar napkins.
They quickly finished their drinks and left for the door. It was a cold, cloudless night, the steam rising from the underground pipes danced above the tarred streets, and they thought it best to stick to the gloomy back-streets trying to stay out of sight. They took a corner and Anastasia gasped. There at the end of the alley stood two men dressed in black. Anastasia looked at Kane in panic.
“How did they know?” she asked quickly.
The men sprinted toward them, both aiming for Kane. He quickly turned to face Anastasia, she had never seen terror like this across his face.
“Run!” he screamed.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes darted back and forth.
“Go now,” he yelled. “We can’t win this one!”
Her heart was thundering and she turned and ran as fast as she could. She thought he might have followed behind her until she heard Kane’s screams.
“No!” she bellowed as she twisted back around.
The two men were on him and her heart died in her chest. It was too late, she felt her heartbreak as his stopped.
She sprinted and dodged and wove through the soaked back-streets. She kept running, the men on her trail and she wound her way through St. Lucy’s until she couldn’t feel their presence any longer. Anastasia turned to go back. She had to see Kane.
She found the alley again and the men were gone, but Kane was nowhere in sight. She pulled the dumpsters forward and kicked the scattered cardboard boxes flying, yet still, she found nothing.
“Kane!” she yelled out, knowing there would be no reply.
She slammed her hands against the dumpster’s lid and crushed it inward before letting her head fall heavy on her arms. Anastasia broke down, her body heaved as vermillion tears streamed down her cheeks until her face was completely stained from her despair. She turned to wipe her tears with her arm and noticed the burnt smell coming from the curb. There was something black heaped in a corner near the metal fence of the back alley. She carefully walked along the bricked wall of the old warehouse feeling her way with one hand on the wall as she neared closer.
Just as she got close enough to see clearly, she pulled her hands up in front of her face. There in front of her was the remains of Kane’s body. He had been turned to dusty grey ash and blackened bone, with the pungent smoke still wafting into the night air.
In shock, she was unable to move and took a few moments looking over his remains, and there beneath the pile of ash, a gold ring stood out on one of the crisped finger.
She couldn’t breathe. She fell to her knees and crawled to Kane’s remains. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks, and as she took the ring, the remains of Kane’s finger crumbled to ash before her very eyes.
11
VEXATION
Rafael was interrupted from his busy schedule by one of the angels that stood guard at his office door.
“Sir,” he said. “The scouts have returned.”
Rafael waved his hand in the air to show them in. The two angels in black walked in with proud faces.
“You’ve brought me good news?” Rafael asked, peering up from the papers at his desk.
One of the scouts nodded.
“Yes, sir. We found two vampires lingering around St. Lucy’s. We exterminated one, but the other got away.”
Rafael stood over his desk, leaning forward on his hands.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this.” His eyes dropped to the floor and let out a sigh, he paused for a moment before he looked forward with apprehension. “Gather the others,
and prepare them for battle… and hunt down that other vampire immediately.”
The two angels nodded and left instantly.
* * *
Jeremiah was talking to Sophie when he suddenly stood straight, his eyes whitened and he looked up toward the sky.
“Are you ok?” Sophie asked as she took hold of his arm.
He didn’t answer.
“Jere?”
She shook him, but he couldn’t be moved. Jeremiah hadn’t heard a word and stood strong.
“Jeremiah?” she shook him again. “Are you okay? what’s happening?”
Slowly his head lowered, and his eyes returned to normal.
“What the hell happened?” Sophie yelled. “I couldn’t wake you out of it?”
“Rafael…” he said still dazed. He shook his head and his eyes focused on her. “Sorry… I was… listening in to the angels. The news isn’t good.”
Sophie dropped her hand from his arm as she swallowed hard.
“Tell me,” she said.
Jeremiah walked over to the window and rubbed his stubbled face.
“The scouts returned with news of vampires on our side. They managed to kill one, but the female got away. By now she would have returned back to Dimitry with this news. We should prepare ourselves for the worst. Layla isn’t safe here anymore and the angels will show her no mercy… she is one of them now, Sophie. She’s a vampire and they will kill her.”
“I won’t let them hurt her, Jere, I- I can’t lose her too.”
“Was it Marco?” Layla asked.
She appeared without warning from the stairs and Jeremiah looked back at Sophie. She could see the anger in his eyes and put her hand on his arm.
“Was it?” Layla asked and Sophie felt Jeremiah tense up again.
He looked at Sophie and she knew he didn’t know.
“Tell me now, was it Marco the angels killed?” Layla repeated.
“We don’t know who it was, sweetheart,” Sophie said.
Layla fell back onto the stairs and hunched over her knees.