by Lana Melyan
She growled and her fangs pierced his neck. Fray laughed loudly and shoved her so hard she flew back and hit her portrait.
“That tickles,” he said, lifting his head and leaning on his elbows.
He looked at her sitting on the floor. She stared back, her bloodshot eyes like an enraged predator and thin spider veins covered her face.
“Who are you?” she asked, panting angrily.
Fray got up from the bed. When he moved toward Joanne, she jumped to her feet.
“I think you already know. Though there is no vampire alive who has met us, I’m sure you’ve heard legends about your most dangerous enemies,” said Fray, impaling her with his gaze.
Joanne ran for the door. Fray caught her by the arm and pulled her back. She clawed at his chest like a wildcat.
“Don’t be stupid. I’m faster than you, and much stronger.”
As Joanne’s face normalized, Fray watched fear replace her fury. She jerked her arm free and walked past Fray to the other side of the room.
“How do you know about the painter?” she asked.
“I was there when you killed him, but I missed you,” said Fray. “I was wondering, what made you come after him?”
“After my men took him home, they noticed birds gathering under the bedroom window, the one that was his when he slept in our house. The painter threw away the food—”
“That you gave him to keep him asleep.” Fray nodded.
“You know? How?”
“Yes, I know. You couldn’t drink his blood because it wasn’t clean at the moment. Sure that he didn’t know anything, you let him go. When you realized that he might be dangerous, you killed him. But it was too late. He had already done the damage you were afraid of, and I already knew about you,” said Fray. He pulled from the inside pocket of his vest the drawing which Martha had given to him seven years ago. “I’ve had it with me all this time. Nice work,” he said, showing her the picture. “I recognized you the second I saw you.”
“How did you find me?”
“I have to admit that it wasn’t easy. How old are you?”
“Two hundred and thirty-three,” she said, proudly lifting her chin.
“I am not surprised you survived so long. You have been very careful. Usually you don’t leave evidence, but this time,” Fray shook his head, “you left two bloodless bodies in the alley. And you’re still here? That’s not your style. What made you act so thoughtlessly?”
“Bodies? What bodies?” she asked. Then suddenly her look became savage. “That sneaky filth,” she said through her gritted teeth and stormed downstairs.
But there was nobody in the house. The young man was gone, along with the coach.
“How dare he disobey my orders,” she shouted in fury. “That’s why he’s been slipping away lately, avoiding company. I will rip his head off.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” said Fray, coming down the stairs. “That’s why I’m here.”
“So kill me.” Joanne glared at Fray and walked up to him. “What are you waiting for? If you’re here to kill us, then do it.”
“Don’t you think you deserve it? You’re a killer. You’ve killed thousands of men, women, and children.”
“People are our food. You think humans are better? Don’t they do the same when they’re hungry? They kill animals, don’t they? First they take milk from a cow, then they eat its babies, then they slaughter the cow itself. Nobody calls them killers.” She went down the stairs again.
Fray folded his hands behind his back and stood there, thinking. He used to talk to his vampire lovers, want to learn more about their lives. He had a question for Joanne.
“If you died today, would you want to see the morning, to see the sunrise before it happened?” he asked, walking down the stairs.
“You mean if I want you to fry me? No, I prefer a stake through the heart,” she sneered, but Fray could see the fear in her eyes.
“I mean, do you miss it? Also, you see, when people have problems, or they are scared of something, like you are now . . .”
“I am not afraid to die,” said Joanne.
“Then in the morning,” continued Fray, “when the sun comes up, everything seems so much easier and brighter, and the worry and fear go away. How is it for you? You can’t enjoy the sun, you live in darkness and shadows all the time. It must be terrible; it’s like living in never-ending horror.”
Joanne laughed wildly.
“Humans are so stupid,” she said arrogantly. “You are right—it seems easier. But in fact nothing goes away. Daytime is the time when night raises its dark curtains and lets the performance begin. Real life happens at night. Night is the time where you hide all your secrets, your true feelings, your desires. It’s the time when you can do things you would never do under the sunlight in front of hundreds of eyes watching your every move. At night you are who you are. Under the sunlight people are acting, showing off, pretending that everything is fine. Only at night do they become themselves, when their tired, exhausted brains resist fighting and let out their real thoughts—hate, jealousy, fear, temptation, and their thoughts about real love. The real love, and not the one which they have to fake under the sunlight, show it to the wrong people because they have to. This is the terrible life. To me, this is the horror. We, who sleep at daytime, we are not like that. We are always real. We can be tricky and insidious, but we hate if we hate, and we love if we love. We do what we want to do.” She sighed. “You want to know if I miss the sunlight. Yes, I miss its shine on the water, the beauty of nature in spring and fall. And, yes, I miss its heat, but not enough to burn under its rays. So, if you want to kill me painfully, then that’s the way.”
Fray listened carefully and suddenly a bizarre thought crossed his mind. If Joanne were turned by the Book of Power, the sun wouldn’t be dangerous to her anymore; she would be able to enjoy its heat. Was that possible? It was. She didn’t have a soul, but she had blood, didn’t she? And that’s all that was needed. The absence of the soul would make the process much longer, weeks probably, but then she would become invulnerable, like the Hunters. If only he had that power. Fray sighed and walked to her.
“Actually, I am here to save you,” he said.
“Save me?” she asked. “Save me from whom?”
“I’m not here alone. There are two more Hunters with me. Tomorrow night at the latest, you’ll all be dead. You’re lucky I saw you at the station,” said Fray, and his tone became serious. “How many men do you have?”
“Eight,” said Joanne.
“You’ll take one man and run. The rest will have to die. That’ll convince the Hunters that the problem is solved. I’m sure you have some place to hide. You’ll tell me where it is so I can find you later.”
“You’re not doing this from the kindness of your heart. What is the price?” Joanne gazed at him.
“You and I will become partners and gather a new team. I will choose the people, and you will make them vampires. We will have as many men as we want and do whatever we want, and no Hunter will find us. You’ll be safe with me.”
“You, a Hunter, who exists to destroy us, want to create more vampires?” she asked in disbelief. “Why?”
“I have my reasons. I’ll explain everything to you later.” Fray clutched her in his arms. “I chose you, and I’m putting my faith in you. But if you try to trick me—the next time I find you, I’ll kill you.” He gazed at her.
He knew it wasn’t easy for her to lose her freedom, but now, when Hunters knew about her existence, she didn’t have a choice. She needed protection.
Joanne looked at him. She nodded, no doubt in her eyes, nothing but cold vampire prudence.
“We’ve still got time.” He leaned closer to her face and said with sly smile, “What do you say, do I get to play now?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were burning with passion.
“Oh, yes. Can’t wait to feel your power.”
16
TODAY
A smile shone on Kimberly’s face when instead of Hanna she saw Ruben coming out of the car. On one hand, Amanda felt relief that she didn’t have to pretend that nothing had happened, but on the other hand, she felt anxious. Why would Hanna send Ruben? She listened to Ruben and Kimberly talk from the kitchen.
“Hi,” said Ruben when Kimberly opened the door.
“Hi. How are you?” asked Kimberly. “I’ve been worried.”
“I’m fine. See?” he pointed at his face. “No bruises.”
“That’s good, though a bit weird. That guy seemed pretty strong.”
“Kimberly, I’m sorry for scaring you like that. I want to make it up to you. Would you have lunch with me?”
Amanda almost dropped her cup as she put it in the dishwasher.
“I’d love to.” Kimberly beamed. “I’ll need to change,” she said, looking down at her shorts. She stepped aside from the doorway, “Come in.”
Kimberly led Ruben to the kitchen and then went upstairs. Amanda sat at the table and fingered her bracelet.
“Hi,” said Ruben, looking at her.
“Hi.” Amanda’s fingers stilled. “Where’s Hanna?”
“She’s at home.”
Amanda stood up and took a few steps towards Ruben.
“Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. But after what happened yesterday, Craig thought it would be better if she had some rest. I’m your guard today and I am inviting you to have lunch with me and Kimberly.”
“No, thank you,” said Amanda gloomily. “And I don’t need a guard.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Because of me, you’re all in danger. It’s me they need, not you.”
“Amanda, it’s not your fault, you don’t understand . . .”
“Everybody keeps saying that,” she said sharply. “So explain.”
“I can’t,” said Ruben calmly.
“Why? You came here to keep an eye on Kimberly, you know what’s going on. Why can’t you tell me?”
“I know how you feel.”
“How can you? You don’t even know me.”
Ruben’s face softened.
“I know everything about you, and I want to protect you from the danger you’re in. I know you have plenty of questions, but I can’t answer them right now.” He looked into Amanda’s eyes. “You’ll have to wait. Just trust us.”
Amanda stared back. Suddenly a familiar churning sensation overwhelmed her. She clutched her bracelet and looked away.
“All right.” She glanced at him after a moment and almost whispered, “But I have a question which you can answer right now. Why are you doing this? I mean, Kimberly. Hanna said you’ll have to leave and never come back. Why are you giving her hope?”
Ruben nodded in acceptance of her question.
“You think she likes me?” he asked.
Amanda heard sad hopelessness in his voice.
“You know she does,” she said.
“As you said, I’m keeping an eye on her. She doesn’t know what’s going on, and we can’t just ask her to stay at home. It’s better if she’s with me than somewhere alone.”
“Do you like—” started Amanda, but she heard Kimberly’s footsteps and stopped talking.
“I’m ready.” Kimberly stepped to Ruben and took his arm. “Let’s go.”
Kimberly called dresses her happy clothes, and she didn’t wear them often. Usually, it was jeans or a skirt with a top. Now, she looked wonderful in a coral skater dress.
Ruben looked at her tenderly. Even though his lips didn’t move, his face smiled. Looking at him, Amanda knew the answer to her unfinished question.
“See you tomorrow,” said Amanda, and she shut the car door. But before she reached the porch, Ruben caught up with her.
“Amanda, if you want to go somewhere—call me. Otherwise, please, don’t leave the house, not alone, not with friends, with no one else but one of us.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in my ward,” she said sarcastically.
The front door opened, and Melinda stepped out. She and Ruben looked at each other, but neither of them said hello.
“Good,” said Ruben, looking at Amanda again. “See you.”
Amanda stepped inside.
“Is Dad home?” she asked.
“No, he’s at the office,” said Melinda.
“It’s Sunday.”
“Yes. But he’s leaving tomorrow. Going to LA, remember? They’re going to present their new bridge.”
Amanda stopped in the kitchen doorway.
“That’s tomorrow?”
How could she forget? It was such an important day for her father.
“Yes. So, as he said, they want to make sure that everything is all right. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
Amanda grabbed a glass of water.
“You look tired. Did you sleep well? How was the party? Did you have fun?” Melinda spat out the questions while Amanda drank.
“Melinda, breathe.” Amanda smiled. “The party was okay, and yes, I’m tired, so I’ll be in my room.”
The moment she closed the bedroom door, all the heavy thoughts and feelings which she had tried to banish crashed over her. She leaned on the door and stood there like she was pinned to it. Now, when she was finally alone, she wanted to release the chest pain tormenting her. She wanted to cry it out, but the tears wouldn’t come.
She sat in the middle off the bed, took of the bracelet, and put it on the covers in front of her. She had no doubt Craig gave it to her because she looked like Eleanor. Now other questions bothered her. Why was he protecting her from those guys? Where did he know them from? Amanda had never seen them in her life, but she knew they wanted something from her, and Craig knew what it was. How? What was the connection between Craig, those guys, and her?
Hanna said that Eleanor’s death was an accident. How did she die? Was it possible that those guys had something to do with it? A strange thought crossed Amanda’s mind. Maybe they wanted the same thing from Eleanor that they wanted from her, and they killed Eleanor because she didn’t do it. Were she and Eleanor somehow connected? That would explain the resemblance. The thought scared her, and she gasped.
All this reasoning seemed ridiculous to her. Besides, even if some of her guesses were right, Craig, Hanna, and Ruben were the only people who could tell her which ones were. The fact that they knew something about her that she didn’t made her angry. She had to ask again.
She lay on her side and closed her eyes, and suddenly the tears rolled down her face. Some invisible ropes tied her to Craig, and she needed to cut herself free. There was a way to move on. Maybe Kimberly was right. Maybe Alec could help her with that. She had to give it a chance.
Amanda was looking at her wrists. On the left one was the bracelet, shining with golden circles on the coins. She glanced at the coin with the roman number six and smiled. Slowly, her eyes moved up and stopped again. She was looking at her fingers now. On her right hand she wore a ring. It had a coin, too. The coins on the bracelet had holes on the golden circle, but the coin on the ring, instead of holes, had shimmering diamonds. She lifted her hand to look at it closer, but something distracted her, some weak tapping.
Amanda woke up. She heard a knock on the door.
“Yes,” she said with a sigh.
The door opened and Melinda walked in.
“Alec’s here. I didn’t know you were asleep, or would’ve told him to come back later.”
“What time is it?” asked Amanda, pulling her hair back from her face.
“It’s five.”
“Is Dad back?”
“No. He called, asked about you and said he’ll be late,” said Melinda. She waited a moment, then said again, “Alec’s here.”
“I heard you the first time.” Amanda sat up. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Melinda looked like she wanted to say something, but just nodded and walked away.
Amanda swung her legs off the bed and sat. Her head felt big and heavy. Crying didn’t make the sadness and pain go away. They had waited for her to awaken and now flooded back, making her eyes prickle again.
She picked up the bracelet from the bed and looked at it, thinking about the ring she had just seen in her dream. She was sure that such a ring existed. The hands she saw wearing the bracelet and the ring weren’t her hands. They were Eleanor’s.
She took the bracelet and put it on the nightstand, then fixed her bed and went to the bathroom. After washing her face with cold water, she put on some makeup to cover the redness around her eyes and went downstairs.
Melinda was peering out through the open front door with a curious look.
“Where is he?” asked Amanda, stopping in the middle of the stairs.
“He said that he needed to get something from his car.”
She heard the sound of a car door slamming, and a moment later Melinda stepped back. Beaming, Alec walked in, holding a big flat package in his hand.
“Hi. I brought your present, as promised,” he said.
“Let’s take it to my room,” Amanda smiled.
Melinda, who was eager to see the contents of that mysterious package, sighed in disappointment.
As they walked into Amanda’s bedroom, Alec looked around. He had been there once before, and she knew he was examining the walls, trying to find a spot for the picture.
“Where do you want to hang it?” he asked, tearing off the brown wrapping paper.
“There.” She pointed at the empty space beside the window.
“That’s what I thought.”
Alec tried the picture on the wall.
“Higher or lower?”
“It’s fine like that,” said Amanda.
He picked up a spiked hook which had fallen out from of the package and pushed it into the wall, hung the picture, and adjusted it to perfection.
“Done,” he said.
He stepped to Amanda’s side, and they both looked at the painting.
“Thank you,” said Amanda.
“Now,” said Alec in serious voice, “what’s wrong?”