Damned and Cursed (Book 7): Four Centuries

by Glenn Bullion

  "Where?"

  "In the United States."

  "The United States is a big place. Can you be more specific?"

  Dougherty checked his notes.

  "Uh…my sources say Portland, Oregon."

  Victoria kept her emotions in check, but internally breathed a huge sigh of relief. Kevin was safe.

  "Is it a half-blood? Or…Heaven forbid, a full-blood?"

  Another vampire spoke up.

  "Don't be foolish. Full-bloods are extinct. We haven't even heard of one in a century."

  "All it takes is two witches to have a child."

  "There are better odds with the American lottery."

  "Make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen. This is urgent, and must be dealt with immediately."

  "Agreed," Dougherty said. "The stories I've heard…I'm afraid to even think what one could do, mixing their magic with modern items."

  The room was quiet a moment, to contemplate that terrible thought.

  "Do any of us even have experience with a witch?"

  Everyone glanced at each other, until a few sets of eyes fell on Victoria. Several more followed, until everyone at the table stared at her. She was aware of the sudden attention, and wished she could shrink into her seat.

  "Victoria. What would you recommend?"

  She took a drink of blood, to clear her throat, and pushed her laptop aside. She'd opened her mouth to speak when a vampire rose to his feet, cutting her off.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "Are we interrupting your card game?"

  Victoria raised an eyebrow, surprised at the venom in his tone. It was Walter Mars, from New Zealand. He'd been a heavy instigator over the past week, combative and condescending. When there was conflict, he was often at the center of it.

  "What is she doing here?" he asked. "The only reason she's here is because Bradley isn't, God rest his soul. She's contributed nothing at all, offered nothing. And now we want her advice? Because she killed a witch a century ago? Am I the only one who thinks that's insane?"

  "Bring up something worth my attention, and I'll gladly speak."

  Walter's eyes shot open. "How dare you speak to me that way."

  Victoria was ready to retort once again, but didn't need to. A stern, steady voice spoke.

  "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

  The room focused their gaze on Terry Miser, an older vampire who kept quiet himself over the past week. He stared directly at Walter, his eyes full of contempt.

  "Victoria has accomplished more in the past five years than you have your entire, miserable life," he said. "The vampire virus, created by mortals? The one that caused that brief, but terrible destruction in the eastern United States? Victoria stopped that."

  "Vampire virus?" Walter said. "I thought that was an act of terrorism—"

  "Shut up, and learn something. Victoria also killed Anatol Grigori."

  The room filled with hushed whispers and eye raising. The vampires taking notes with laptops and phones started new files. The group still afraid of technology turned the page in their notebooks and pads.

  "Victoria, please, enlighten us," another said. "Anatol, from what we're told, was the first vampire-witch hybrid. Terrifying, obviously, I don't need to say it. Did you find out how he came to be?"

  "No. I was too busy killing him."

  "How did you kill him?"

  "Anatol was powerful," Victoria offered. "But he still had to follow the rules, except for sunlight. I drove a stake through his heart and set him on fire."

  "A vampire that can walk in the day. Now that's also a frightening thought."

  "But how did you get close enough? Getting through a witch and their magic. Did you work alone?"

  She hesitated, not liking where this was going.

  "No."

  They waited for elaboration that didn't come.

  "Well, what about your team? We'd love to meet them. Many of the situations we deal with could use good people."

  "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't."

  Walter spoke up once again.

  "There are no secrets in this room—"

  She leaned back and laughed, interrupting him. The vampires stared at her in confusion. It was the first laugh they'd heard all week.

  "Please! I may be the new chick here, but I know most of you. No secrets. Yeah, right. Let's not lie to each other, now."

  Terry dismissed Walter with a wave.

  "Ignore that fool," he said, then addressed the room. "My point I was trying to make is simple. Treat Victoria with respect. Every single one of you is in her debt."

  Walter stared at the table, thoroughly humbled, his voice a whisper.

  "My apologies."

  Victoria nodded at Walter, and also at Terry, for defending her.

  She listened in dismay as they discussed the witch in Portland. They didn't discuss anything personal about him, or her. Not whether the witch was good or bad, young or old, had any kind of family or friends. The only thing discussed was the best methods to kill it. The witch could have saved thousands of lives while taking care of the elderly on the weekends. That didn't matter. The only thing that was important was the witch had to die. They were too powerful to be left to their own devices.

  Victoria thought the same thing, not too long ago.

  But even a person four centuries old could change.

  *****

  On night number eight, Victoria had arrived early to the meeting, as usual. Some of the other vampires began to show up later and later. One even showed up with blood still dribbling down his chin, from an encounter in his room. She didn't blame them. The meetings were mind-numbing.

  Victoria never wavered. Always early, always dressed well.

  Staring at her laptop, she was engrossed in a video of a bear destroying an electronic tablet at a zoo when a vampire sat next to her. She'd recognized him from earlier meetings. Very attractive, even more so than the others. Blond hair, blue eyes, strong jaw. He always sat across the room, taking diligent notes until he mentally zoned out himself. She greeted him with a smile before returning to her video.

  "Ah, another beautiful night," he said, in a thick Irish accent. "How many brain cells do you think you've lost this week so far?"

  She laughed, still watching the video. "I lost track somewhere on the second night."

  He returned her laugh and held out his hand. "You're Victoria, right? I'm Patrick. Patrick O'Donnall."

  She shook his hand briefly. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile at the pure Irish name.

  "I take it you're from Ireland?"

  "Born and raised, and bitten. It's true about the drinking there, too. Only difference for me is I wait outside the pub, in the alley for my selection."

  Another laugh. That was two laughs in a very short time. Victoria closed the laptop, giving Patrick her attention.

  "And you?" he said, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I can't place your accent."

  "Not many people can."

  Silence. Patrick waited for a reveal which never came.

  "Ah," he said. "The mysterious type."

  He opened his laptop and logged on with a name and password. His fingers moved with blinding speed, opening a file and typing possibly faster than Kevin. And the witch could type fast.

  "I know it's getting late, but there's still time," he said. "It's a thousand dollars, but those heels alone look like they cost five hundred, so I'm guessing it's not a big deal to you."

  "Uh," Victoria said. She filed away the fact that Patrick was looking at her legs and shoes. "I'm afraid I'm lost?"

  "You don't know?"

  "No, I don't know."

  He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. A rather useless gesture, considering everyone in the room could hear everything, if they wanted to. An attempt at flirting? She wasn't sure, but found herself leaning in as well.

  "Every year a few of us have a pool," he explained. "The number is getting pretty high this year. Which one here is going to sugge
st taking over the world first?"

  "That's…ridiculous!" she said, but couldn't stop the smile from crossing her face.

  "Which part? The bet, or the fact that, sadly, someone always wins?"

  "Both. There's just no way someone here would suggest that."

  He looked up toward the doors as they opened.

  "Not even Walter?"

  She followed his eyes to see the angry vampire Walter entering the room. A young woman was on his arm. He gave her a peck on the cheek before sending her away. Never once did his eyes leave Victoria as he made his way to his seat. Once settled, he glared at her one final time before diving into the world of his smartphone.

  "He really doesn't like me," Victoria said.

  "He's just mad because you're the oldest," Patrick said. "Everyone values your opinion. No one bothers to ask his."

  She blinked in surprise. "Me?" she said. "I'm the oldest here?"

  "You didn't know?" He took the chance to look her up and down. She found herself enjoying the attention. "You do look good for your age."

  "Well, you know…." She tilted her head playfully. "A lot of moisturizer, and the blood of virgins."

  Patrick laughed before glancing around the room.

  "Seriously, though, most of us here are pushing two centuries. Maybe three. But four centuries? It's not easy to make it that far, as I'm sure you know. Especially now. The technology the mortals have come up with is terrifying. And more of them know about us than ever before." He could still see the doubt in her eyes. "Tell me, do you know of anyone older?"

  Victoria did not. Even Bradley, before he'd died, was younger than her.

  "Shit," she said. "Now I feel like the old grandmother here."

  "Oh, dear me. I hope I didn't ruin these riveting meetings for you."

  They laughed together.

  Perhaps it was Patrick telling her things she didn't know before, but Victoria did notice a shift in the meetings. She tried to keep quiet, but the others wouldn't let her. They actively engaged her, asked her questions, took notes as she spoke. They involved her on everything from a vampire wanting to run for political office to the never-before-case of a vampire and werewolf wanting to get married.

  Despite the shift, several hours into the meeting, another argument broke out. Of course, one of the participants was Walter. The issue was whether vampire society should actively kill one of their kind if their body was a certain age. It was rare, but in the past, she did know of vampires that were physically ten years old.

  She got the sense that the issue was an old one, and one they couldn't come to consensus on. Walter argued with Raquel, the vampire that resembled a fifteen-year-old girl. Raquel, who was closer to one-hundred fifty than fifteen, argued that vampires simply shouldn't kill one another over something as arbitrary as when they were bitten. Walter felt that they would be doing a favor for an immortal being trapped in the body of a five-year-old by ending its life.

  "Listen," Walter said. "I don't even think this would be an issue we'd need to fight about, if we just took a more…active role in mortal affairs."

  For the first time all night Patrick leaned forward in his seat. He'd barely paid any attention during the entire meeting, only when Victoria spoke. But with Walter's words, he took an interest.

  "What are you saying?" someone asked Walter.

  "If we just gave the mortals a little more…." He searched for the right word. "Supervision."

  Patrick made a sound of disgust, and closed the notes on his laptop. Victoria watched in amusement as the scene unfolded, a small layer underneath the meeting. He opened another file, a spreadsheet, with two columns of names written out. His own name was written next to someone named Maury. Victoria had a question mark next to her name.

  Written next to Walter's name was Terry.

  Patrick tilted the laptop toward Victoria for her viewing pleasure, and sadly shook his head. She was still in awe that their bet was real, and not a joke. He glanced at several of his friends with a knowing smile.

  Everyone in the room was in shock when someone spoke up, seven seats over from Patrick.

  "No, no, no," he said. "That doesn't count. He didn't go all the way with it."

  All eyes went to the interruption. Patrick kept his voice low and even, knowing he could be heard.

  "Sorry, Sebastian. But that counts. You know it does."

  "What is going on here?" Walter bellowed. "Is this some kind of joke? Are you children getting restless? This is a very important…you know what? I'm done. I think I've had enough."

  Terry rose to his feet as Walter stormed out. Terry cleared his throat and tapped the table to get everyone's attention.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "I think we're all starting to feel a little loopy. Perhaps a ten minute break, something wet to course the throat. Then maybe we can all give these very important matters the attention they deserve." He met the eyes of several vampires, Patrick included. "And you all know damn well that counted. The bet's over, I won." He pointed at Patrick. "I told you that other bet was a good idea."

  Patrick simply laughed and highlighted Terry's row on the spreadsheet. He typed a star next to Terry's name, saved the file, and closed the laptop. Victoria leaned close.

  "What other bet?"

  "Terry wanted to start a pool on how long it took Walter to storm out in a huff. Oh, well. Maybe next year."

  Victoria couldn't stop the laugh that escaped.

  Some vampires stood up and stretched their legs. Others left the room. Victoria stood and stretched her arms over her head. She caught Patrick admiring her figure, and may or may not have extended her stretch for his enjoyment. Her eyes fell on the refrigerator. A sip of crimson was exactly what she needed.

  "That's a good idea," Patrick said, reading her mind. "I'll join you."

  They both retrieved a bottle and took long, slow drinks, standing on the side of the room.

  "So, Victoria," Patrick said. "Every night after these meetings a few of us get together. Go out, see the sights, hit a restaurant. Would you like to join us?"

  "A restaurant?" she said, smiling. "How's that work?"

  "Believe it or not, there are a few here that are…friendly to our kind."

  "I don't know. Honestly, I didn't know I was the oldest here. Would that be like your grandmother tagging along?"

  "Trust me, you're nothing like my grandmother."

  "Well, that sounds like a lot of fun."

  He gestured around them.

  "The way these things go, it's the only way we stay sane."

  *****

  Patrick was right. If it weren't for him and the group of vampires she'd spent the late night hours with, she'd question the direction of her sanity. The company of the others, especially Patrick, and the hot tub in her hotel room were the comforts that kept her mind from rotting.

  Being with other vampires in a social setting was something she hadn't done in a long time. Vampires simply didn't hang out. They weren't pack animals, like werewolves. It was fun to be with people that simply understood each other. Her inner circle, as supernatural as most of them were, couldn't relate to drinking blood, or having to retreat from the day. Only Jack understood her, due to spending a century together. But time was a luxury the others wouldn't have.

  The last meeting had finally arrived. Victoria had an extra spring to her step when she entered the conference room. Soon she would be home in her mansion once again. There was no doubt a ton of work waiting for her when she got back. But she was actually looking forward to it.

  Patrick was already there. He typed furiously at his laptop, a scowl across his face. She circled the table and sat next to him, opening her own laptop. They'd sat next to each other since their introduction, and she wanted to believe they were perhaps becoming friends.

  "Good evening," she said. "Is everything okay?"

  "Oh, yeah. Just business," he said. "I own a beer company."

  She shook her head and laughed. "I should have know
n."

  "Hey, if it's one thing Irish people know, it's beer. Or at least the mortal Irish." He pushed his laptop away and turned to give her his full attention. "What do you do?"

  "A lot of things, actually."

  "You know, we've been talking for a week, and I still don't really know much about you."

  "Well, how else am I going to keep you coming back for more?" she said, batting her eyelashes. She meant the remark as exaggerated flirtation, but there was a hint of truth in her words.

  He laughed as their eyes met, perhaps a moment longer than necessary.

  "The last day," he said. "Are you excited?"

  "Ecstatic. I'm not looking forward to the flight back, but I am looking forward to the landing. Curling up on my couch, watching sports with a warm glass. Can't wait."

  His eyes lit up. "You like sports."

  "Eh, not really," she admitted. "But a friend of mine recently turned me on to baseball. I do watch that. Are you looking forward to escaping?"

  "Mostly," he said, his meaning clear as he admired her. "I live in a vineyard. The scents there are like music for the nose. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

  Victoria nodded, understanding completely. She couldn't eat pizza, but the scent of it was intoxicating.

  Terry stepped into the room, and they knew the meeting would begin shortly. There hadn't been an official leader in the past two weeks, but it was obvious if there was one, Terry would be it.

  "Ah, six more glorious hours," Patrick said.

  She took a deep breath, feeling the relief wash over her. One more meeting, and then a bit of fun before she had to fly out. One more night out with others of her kind. One more soak in the hot tub.

  Patrick scooted closer in his chair.

  "Hey, listen, there's this restaurant I've been wanting to check out. What do you say?"

  "Whatever the group decides, I'm fine with."

  He glanced at the table, struggling to find words. She sensed what was coming, but enjoyed the delicious awkwardness. Patrick was even more attractive when he was nervous, which came out every now and then over the past week. An odd mix of charm, confidence, and nerves.

  "Uh, actually, the group doesn't know about this. I was thinking…you know, maybe this last time, it could just be you and I."

  Victoria smiled. Patrick didn't realize he was on a timer. If he didn't ask in the next hour she was going to take matters into her own hands. She was glad he finally worked up the courage, even if he was a few days late.