Death of Night

by Krissy Reynolds

  "Well, a gun's a gun. They all do the same thing," I replied. Truth was, I didn't usually tote around a Firestar. I was more of a Glock kind of girl. "How'd you know it was a Firestar?"

  She flipped the gun around and tucked it into her own pants. "I know my weapons," she said blandly.

  "We need to get her up there soon, Fyfe," Gregory said to her. "Hurry up."

  Fyfe, I assumed, turned to look at him. There was something unpleasant in the look she gave him. "I know, Gregory." She stressed his name.

  "Are you going to take her, or am I?" he asked, equally as nasty.

  "I'll take her, since you can't seem to go too far without whining," she answered.

  I had no idea what the two vampires' history was, but they didn't seem to like each other very much. I didn't mind. Perhaps a little unsettlement in the ranks was good for us.

  Fyfe starting walking passed the guardhouse and further down the road. When she realized I wasn't following her, she stopped, jerked her head in the direction of the road, and called, "Come on."

  One last look at Gregory, who appeared to be sulking, and I was off. Fyfe waited for me to catch up with her. When I did, we started walking slowly, not saying a word. The light was the cabin was fading, until darkness completely closed in on us. The trees groaned in the wind.

  Fyfe threw an arm out in front of my chest to stop me. "Stop here," she said.

  My heart pounded faster. What was she doing?

  "I'm going to help you," she continued. She let her arm drop to her side. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but I'm going to help you."

  That wasn't what I expected. A little let's-beat-up-Dahlia action, sure, but not an offer of help. "What did you say?" I asked, just to make sure I was hearing this right.

  "Look," she huffed, turning away from me slightly, staring off into the forest. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't even care what happens to you. I'm only going to do this out of spite and as a repayment for a favour."

  "What are you talking about?" I questioned.

  "I owe your Mr. Knightley a favour. He saved my ass once when he really didn't have to. So, I've got a debt to settle." She swept her sopping-wet hair back from her face and exhaled heavily. "Plus, I'm not happy here in the least. 'Go wait in the guardhouse, Fyfe,'" she mimicked sardonically. "'Go wait in that blasted cabin for hours on end with no food.' 'Stop complaining, Fyfe. You're lucky to be here.' Lucky? Lucky?" She turned back to me. "God, I've only been here six months and I already hate this place. I want to leave, but I wouldn't mind causing some damage before I go."

  After her little tirade, I just stood there. "Okay," I said slowly, not knowing what to say. "And why should I take your word?"

  "Because."

  "Because why?"

  She rolled her head back, sighing exasperatedly. "Okay," she said. "Okay. What could I, uh, what could I do to prove that I'm serious?" She seemed to be talking more to herself than to me.

  "You could give me my gun back," I suggested, not expecting that she would.

  "Done." She grabbed my hand and put the Firestar in it, closing my fingers around the wet, slippery metal. "There you go. What else?"

  Oh, this was just too good to be true. I tucked the gun back into the holster, while I said, "Could you not tell them that Dario was killed? I have a feeling that they might get a little pissed about that."

  "I'll tell them he's down at the guardhouse," she said.

  "Could you help Mr. Knightley and I get out?"

  "I was planning to."

  "Could you give me some sort of a sharp weapon? Because bullets don't work, or so I've heard."

  She pursed her lips. "Sure. Would you like fries with that?"

  I held up both of my hands in surrender. "Hey, you're the one who offered to help."

  "I realize that." Her hand reached down the leg of her pants and she produced a stake. It was about ten inches long, made of a coarse wood. The tip was a blunt point. She held it out to me, and said, "Here's your sharp weapon."

  I took the stake gingerly, weighing it in the palm of my hand. It was light and looked seemingly innocent, like a branch that had been snapped off of a tree. It was hard to imagine that this thing was more deadly to a vampire than a bullet.

  "Just stake 'em right in the heart," Fyfe told me, her Southern accent apparent in her words.

  Blinking the rain out of my eyes, I looked up at her. "Why are you encouraging me to kill your kind?"

  She began walking again, forcing me to follow behind her. "Just be thankful I'm not killing you," she said over her shoulder. With that, I shoved the stake in the waistband of my jeans and covered it up with my shirt.

  The narrow road twisted and curved in all directions, long and endless. I was thoroughly wet, right down to my socks. I could feel the water squishing around in my shoes. The rain wasn't nice and warm, but cold and chilling. So far, this night was going wonderfully.

  "If Dario didn't bring you here, then who did?" Fyfe asked after a few minutes of walking in complete silence.

  I still didn't know if I could trust her, but she had given me back my gun and handed me a stake. If she could help get Liam and the rest of them into the house, that would help immensely. If she was trying to weed information out of me, then that would probably end up with all of us dead. I decided to take the risk, and answered, "Four of Mr. Knightley's vampires."

  She turned her head and looked at me. "Yeah? Which ones?"

  "Uh, Liam, Raven, Lester, and Ophelia."

  "Oh, Lester and I go way back," she said. Her voice had a smile in it. "Should I show them the back way in once I've dropped you off?"

  I half-laughed out of surprise. "If you wouldn't mind."

  "I haven't seen Lester in awhile," she mused. "I think it's been about twenty-two years."

  I choked, "I guess it has been awhile."

  "Still not used to the whole eternity thing, huh?"

  "Not yet," I replied.

  Fyfe's footsteps slowed, so I automatically slowed with her. "Here we are," she said quietly.

  Following the direction she was looking in, my eyes focused on the real house. It was hard to see through the cover of the trees and the fast-falling rain, but I could make out that it was large, more of a manor than a house. It looked like a haunted house before it had become haunted. The outside was a grayish colour, with white columns and white frames around the tall windows. The manor seemed to be separated into three sections, each a different height and width. My eyes traveled downward. The front door was immaculate. It had its own columns supporting a small covering, and I saw some designs and etchings above it. A weathervane, in the typical shape of a rooster, was perched on the top of the middle section's roof. The metal rooster swung back and forth on its hinges with the torrents of wind and rain.

  We walked up two stairs to get under the covering of the front door. The rain stopped beating down on us, and I let out a breath. As I stared at the door, I almost expected it to swing open by itself, making that eerie creaking noise that's always in the movies. Instead, Fyfe wrapped a hand around the large brass knocker and slammed it against the wood.

  The door did swing open with a loud scraping noise, but not by itself. Thanes stood there in front of us, a wide grin on his youthful face.

  "You guys look wet," he said. "Is it raining?"

  I think both Fyfe and I gave him an unfriendly look because he laughed loudly. He stood to the side, and waved an arm. "Come in, come in."

  Fyfe entered the house first, and then I followed. I heard Thanes shut the door behind us. I took a quick look at my surroundings as I squeezed the water out of my hair. We seemed to be standing in a sort of foyer, a small, dark room with old wooden floors. Candles flickered in the two windows, reflecting yellow light off the glass. There was also a distinct smell that reminded me of my grandmother's house. The thick, stuffy smell of age.

  "Why did you bring her up?" Thanes asked Fyfe, strolling into the middle of the room. "Where's Dario?"

  Fyfe loo
ked at him with inexpressive eyes. "Dario's at the guardhouse with Gregory."

  I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Maybe I could trust her.

  "Oh," he said. He locked his fingers behind his back and made a movement with his head. "Did you check her for weapons?"

  "Yes. We unloaded the gun and gave it back to her."

  "I'll take it from here, then. You can go."

  She nodded and left, but not before she met my eyes. It was a knowing, secretive look between us. It gave me some hope that I might get out of here alive.

  Thanes turned to me, his fingers still locked behind him, and said, "Damien's not ready for you yet."

  "Not a very accommodating host, is he?" I said as I walked over to one of the windows. As I looked out at the trees and the road, I felt the heat from the candle. It felt good after fifteen minutes of being outside in the harsh November weather.

  "He's busy. He wished me to tell you that he hopes this delay will not make you think less of him."

  Watching the rain fall outside of the window, I didn't turn to look at Thanes when I spoke. "He shouldn't worry about it. I couldn't think any less of him, because he's as far down as he can get."

  Thanes laughed one of those condescending laughs that vampires were so fond of. If Damien made me a vampire, would I laugh like that? The thought sent fear spiraling into my stomach. I crossed my arms in an attempt to push it away.

  "I don't think I'd mind spending eternity with you," Thanes said cheerfully from behind me.

  I still didn't turn around. "Well, I would."

  He laughed again, and his voice was closer this time. I pressed my thighs into the wood of the windowsill to make sure I was as far from him as possible.

  "I'm afraid your opinion doesn't hold much weight with Damien," Thanes said. "He's bent on making you one of us, and nothing anyone can say will change his mind. So, why don't you try accepting the fact that you're going to become a vampire?"

  "That's okay," I said. "I'd rather not."

  "I don't understand why you don't want to be one of us. The moment I became a vampire was the first moment that I actually felt alive. The power, the strength, the chance to live forever." He sighed contentedly. "It's something I'd recommend for anyone."

  I turned, leaning against the windowsill. "You sound like you're advertising for vampirism," I told him.

  He winked.

  I smiled humourlessly "You're pretty good. Ever thought of going on TV or something?"

  Thanes brushed a hand over his thick, shiny hair, mouth quirked in an odd smile. He didn't say anything, just looked at me. I looked away, turning my attention to the rest of the room. The walls had yellowing, embossed wallpaper covering them. A few picture frames hung from it, scenes of landscapes and oceans painted on thick canvas. I noticed each painting was set in the daytime, and that the sun was always present. A little vamp nostalgia, perhaps?

  I looked back at Thanes. "Where is everybody?" I asked.

  "Oh, here and there," he answered carelessly. "Most of them are near Damien and Mr. Knightley."

  That sent a jolt through my heart. Damien and Mr. Knightley were not two names you wanted in the same sentence, or the same room. "What?" I breathed, sounding as alarmed as I felt.

  Thanes didn't recognize my panic and continued like it was chitchat time at happy hour. "Damien doesn't much like Mr. Knightley. I mean, it's understandable, but his jealousy really runs deep."

  "His jealousy?" I repeated faintly.

  He nodded, picking at his nails. "Yes, he's jealous of Mr. Knightley's position as a master, and, of course, of Mr. Knightley's feelings for you."

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply. "How the hell does he know that Mr. Knightley has feelings for me?"

  "It's quite obvious," Thanes replied smilingly. "I think Damien knew he had competition that moment Mr. Knightley stepped into the parking lot and saved you."

  I dropped my hand and gave him a heavy look. "And Damien and Callum are in the same room, right this moment?"

  "Yes," he answered, drawing the word out for a few seconds, like he was debating whether to say something else.

  "Bring me there," I demanded.

  Thanes shook his head. "No, I'm not supposed to."

  "I don't care what you're supposed to do, Thanes. What do you think those two are doing right now, huh?" I didn't wait for him to answer. "They're sure as hell not talking things out."

  "Sorry," he said insincerely, "But I can't do anything about it. Just be patient. Patience is a virtue, you know?"

  Before rational thoughts entered my mind, I strode up to Thanes and shoved him into the wall beside us. He was lean and not very heavy, so it wasn't too difficult. I had my forearm pressed firmly against his throat, my hand curled into a tight fist. I shoved harder and snarled his words back at him, "Be patient?"

  His head was tilted back, his eyes looking down at me with amusement. "Ouch, you're hurting me," he mocked in a high-pitched voice.

  Thanes moved against me, and I pushed him as far as he could go into the wall. "Bring me to them now, you son of a bitch."

  He laughed, and I felt it vibrate through the arm pressing against his throat. What I really wanted to do was whip out the gun or stake and do him in right then. I resisted, knowing it would do more harm than good.

  Thanes pushed me away easily. I stumbled, but didn't fall. When he met my eyes, his expression changed quickly from gleeful to cautious. He pulled down his shirt and fixed his collar, not taking his eyes off of me.

  "I hate it when they do that," he muttered.

  I arched my eyebrows. "When what do what?"

  He waved a finger at my face and grimaced. "When your eyes turn all black."

  I blinked, not even aware that my eyes had changed. I think Damien was right. Strong emotions brought on whatever power lay within me. That could work both for and against me. Right now, it was working for me. I was definitely going to milk this.

  As I reached out one hand to Thanes, I saw his beady eyes flicker and his body tense. Inside, I smiled.

  "Keep those hands to yourself," he warned, taking a step back.

  I took a step towards him. "Yeah?" I said, "Bring me to where they are, and I'll stay as far from you as I can."

  He gave me an unfriendly look, and growled, "Fine."

  I let my hand fall. A pleased smile broke across my face, and I said, "Lead the way."

  Thanes turned on the heel of his expensive Italian loafers and went through an open doorway to the left of the foyer. I stood where I was, took a deep breath, let it out, and followed him. He wove his way through the house, leading me down dim, narrow hallways and through rooms that alternated between big and small. We finally reached a closed door. Thanes wrapped a pale hand around the old-fashioned doorknob and twisted it open. Stairs led downwards into a sea of darkness.

  "Ladies first," he said with a devious flicker in his eye.

  I bit my tongue and started down the stairs. Thanes followed, closing the door behind us. It left us in total darkness.

  "Was it absolutely necessary to shut the door?" I asked caustically.

  Thanes' voice came from right beside my ear, so close I could feel his cold breath on my neck. "No," he replied simply.

  I took the next three stairs quickly to get away from him. I closed my eyes and sent my fingers out, searching. They met with the wall on both sides of the staircase. My fingers trailed down rough, concrete walls as I went down the stairs. We were probably heading to the basement, though I wouldn't be surprised if Thanatos had refurbished it as a dungeon.

  The stairs took a sharp curve to the right, and I could finally see a soft glow of light. Step after step, and step after step, I started to wonder if the light was getting nearer or further away. I had a sudden thought. Going down stairs was easy, but coming up was always a bitch. I hoped I could take my leisurely time coming back up these steps. Somehow, I thought I was wasting my time hoping for such silly things.
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  "Turn to the right when you reach the end," Thanes said from behind me.

  When I stepped off the last stair, I did what he said and turned right. I was looking down a wide corridor with iron sconces hooked on the walls. Fire flickered in them, illuminating the way. There was a series of doors, one after another, closed, that lined the hallway. I think my dungeon theory was right. I didn't move, frowning slightly, waiting for Thanes to lead me down this strange corridor.

  He stood next to me. "I can tell you like this place," he smiled.

  I glanced at him sideways, and said sarcastically, "Oh, yeah. It's so homey."

  Chuckling, he began walking. I kept in step with him, but made sure to stay at least a foot away from him. About halfway down the hall, he reached into the pocket of his slacks and produced a traditional metal key. He slowed, and faced an unmarked door. I stopped as well, shifting from foot to foot. My nerves were catching up with me.

  The lock clicked when Thanes turned the key. We exchanged looks, and then he opened it. I peered through the open doorway.

  The first thing I saw was Damien backed up against the far wall. Callum had one hand on his chest, keeping Damien pressed into the wall. I could only see their profiles, and just from that, I could tell that both of them had anger etched into their faces.

  I let out an unexpected laugh. I quickly clapped a hand to my mouth, but the damage was done. Both vampires' heads whipped around to look at the doorway, eyes glowing, Callum's green and Damien's black.

  I held up a hand. "Sorry," I apologized, smiling. "This was just wasn't what I expected." I turned away and laughed again. The tension and nerves were subsiding with the relief that Callum was okay.

  "What is she doing here?" Damien asked Thanes, voice tight. "I thought I told you to keep her upstairs until I was ready."

  "I'm sorry, master, but she," Thanes narrowed his eyes at the floor, "She threatened me."

  I patted Thanes on the shoulder good-naturedly. He flinched and his nostrils flared. "Oh, don't blame him, Damien. It's not his fault that he's scared of me."

  "I'm not scared of you," Thanes hissed.

  Damien jerked against Callum's restraining hand. He looked straight at Thanes, clearly not happy. "Get out, Thanes."