“And you tell me this now?” Twig asked. He looked over at Zara who was staring listlessly out into the night.
“Take this off-ramp,” his father said, pointing to the side of the highway.
Twig veered off.
James directed his son down a few side streets and told him to pull into a long driveway that led to an old barn house that sat on a piece of land between two factories. The house looked out of place in the long stretch of commercial space. It was tall and was painted a shade of canary yellow. A small space was plowed out for a garden out front, a patch of dirt waiting for seeds. They pulled up to the front door.
Twig and Zara got out, and Zara gave James a hand, squeezing himself out of the back of the car. James straightened up and dusted off his hospital scrubs. His eyes were still at half-mast from the drugs. He stumbled to the steps and Twig gave him a shoulder to lean on.
After one ring a porch light came on and a small Asian woman had opened the door. She looked about 40 to Twig, and had intense, intelligent eyes. She looked momentarily confused by their presence, but when James began to speak but the woman leapt to him and threw her arms around him. She began to cry.
“They wouldn’t let me see you!” She cried out. “And when I tried to get a lawyer they all turned me away.”
James shook his head and smiled at her, taking her face in his hands. “It’s okay,” he said, and the two began to kiss.
Twig and Zara both looked around at the landscape, both a little uncomfortable. “Um, so I’m guessing it’s cool he holes up with you for a bit?” Twig said finally, now admiring his hospital bracelet like it was made of solid gold.
The little woman laughed and told them she would take care of him.
James looked over at his son. Then he looked from Zara to Jennifer. “Can you two give me a moment?”
Jennifer nodded and went inside, taking James’ hand and kissing it before she left. Zara went back to the car. It was still running and she turned on the radio. She played with Micah’s iPod. She found a Death Cab for Cutie song and turned it up.
James looked up at the moon and then around the front yard. “I’ve been thinking son. Maybe you should let this go.”
Twig balked. “Let it go? Are you for real?”
James put a calming hand on Twig’s shoulder. “You see what it’s gotten us? Our family is in ruins because we got involved. It’s been that way for centuries. We’re drawn to them like moths to a flame, you know. You can vanish, start over somewhere new.”
“You know I can’t…I won’t leave her,” Twig looked over at the car where Zara’s face was aglow with the light from the ipod.
“She is a pretty one. You have your dad’s taste.”
The two laughed a bit. “I would help you if I could, you know,” James said weakly. “I’m having enough trouble just standing right now. As soon as I’m myself again…”
Twig nodded. “It’s okay dad. You rest. I suggest you get yourself a good fake ID. Lay low for a while or leave the state entirely.”
James nodded in agreement. “I will. What about you though?”
“We get the weapons cache, then skip town. We head for the hills until the time is right.” Twig gestured toward the Rocky Mountains poking up over the houses to the west.
“You need to hurry,” his father said with a sudden urgency. “Get going. I’ll be fine. But there’s one other thing. Something you don’t know about the weapons cache. Something…important.”
24.
All along the sidewalk people were out again, whooping and falling over each other in large groups. Twig drove cautiously down Broadway, keeping his eyes peeled for cops. Zara looked at the partiers filing up to the bars, and a wave of disgust crested over her. “They are like animals,” she said, not noticing that she had said it out loud.
Twig gave her a look of concern and stepped on the gas a little harder.
Zara almost jumped out of her seat when her phone vibrated. She pulled it free from her pocket and read the text.
I know what you’ve done, and it doesn’t matter. You can still come back to me. Let yourself be happy.
She stared at the words and read them over and over, like a chant. Twig grabbed the phone from her hands and tossed it out the window. “He’s toying with you Zar, don’t let him play you.”
Zara nodded, but she was annoyed. Does Twig think he is in charge of her now? Does he also think her fate is his to determine?
They left the Porsche unlocked with the keys in the ignition in front of a 7-11 on Colfax, a street notorious for its crime and theft. A few loitering thugs raised an eyebrow at it as the two strolled away. “I give it ten minutes before someone snatches it,” Twig said.
They both ran to the Scout, a few blocks away. Twig still wore his hospital smock and slippers, and people gave him a wide berth on the sidewalk. It was late, the bars were all closing up, and raucous drunks were spilling out from their doors. They got to the Scout and Twig crawled under the car.
“What are you doing?” Zara said impatiently.
“Spare key,” Twig replied before popping back out from under the car holding a little brass key in his hand.
He went to the back of the car and popped open the hatch. There were several duffel bags of various colors. He opened one and took out a handful of clothes. “This may get a little graphic,” he said in a warning tone. She sighed and turned her back to him. Twig stripped and changed in the street, and a pack of drunken girls started whooping at him from across the street.
“Don’t get mad, it’s the only shirt I got in here,” Twig said, and when Zara turned around she saw he was wearing his “I’m with slutty” t-shirt. He had a pair of tattered old jean shorts on, and another pair of docs.
“Well, if we need to destroy Abby too, all you will have to do is stand in front of her wearing that.”
Twig laughed and pulled out a belt that had several stakes holstered on it. “I keep lots of spares,” he said. “Seems to come in handy in this business.”
He handed her one of the stakes from his belt. “Black Walnut. Hard as a rock. Sharp too. One hard stab to his chest. All it takes. And you go back to normal.”
While Twig rifled through more of his bags Zara’s thoughts drifted. Her past was starting to look like a tunnel. She saw Twig, who had never given up on saving her. Even if she had to save him before he could return the favor. She saw her father, who had sacrificed so much for her. She also saw Micah too, and heard his sweet words echo in her head.
“Damon wears kevlar over his heart. Micah might wear the same thing. These stakes might not do the trick. We need to get the liquid sunlight from the Church.”
Zara put her stake inside of her hoodie and zipped it up. “I’m ready,” she said. But the words felt hollow as they left her lips.
25.
It was rough finding parking even with the droves of weekend partiers going home, but Twig eventually found one. They were a block away from the Church. They both got out and Twig found an old sport coat in the backseat and threw it on to cover his stake belt.
They crept up to the front of the Church. The door was locked but there were sounds coming from inside—the after-hours party no doubt.
“We don’t need to set off any alarms or get the cops involved.”
“I have an idea,” Zara announced.
“I’m all ears.”
“You hang out here. I’ll use my new super powers and jump up onto the smoking patio and get in from there. I think I can do it.”
“Your super powers?” Twig raised an eyebrow.
“What else would you call them?”
“Fair enough,” Twig replied. “Just be careful. The organ might not even be there.”
Zara went around the side of the building and looked up at the smoking patio. The metal spiked fence worried her. She tried a few practice runs but chickened out. Finally, she ran from across the street and jumped, high into the air and over the fence, barely clearing it by a few inches. Sh
e landed flat-footed like a gymnast. “Wow,” she said, and found herself looking around to see if anyone had seen that.
She sighed when she saw no one. That would have killed on YouTube, she thought. Focus Zara. Just find the organ and get out.
She opened the metal door leading into the Church, this time easily. She stepped into the dark hallway. Her eyes suddenly adjusted to the darkness, giving the corridor a red tint. “Now…that is cool. Nightvision…” Zara muttered, completely astonished. She heard laughing and glass clinking together downstairs. It was probably the bartenders having a few drinks of their own.
She walked down the long hallway, again captivated by the old pictures that hung on the walls. She went room-to-room, opening the doors and peering in. They seemed to be used mostly for storage, boxes and cleaning supplies. One of the rooms was larger than the others, and appeared to be an old Bible study room for kids. There were still crayon drawings of Jesus hanging on one wall, and a row of beanbag chairs lay on the floor. After she checked all the rooms in the hallway she came to the end of the hall and found another flight of stairs leading up. She went up and at the top there was a door, locked with a padlock. She tugged on the padlock and it broke the latch right off. She couldn’t help but giggle. She was starting to see why the vampires scoffed at humans.
The third floor was a sight to behold. She could see why there had been a lock on the door. The ceiling rose thirty feet and slanted together to form the triangular roof of the Church. There was a web of wooden buttresses that ran crisscross for support, and with her enhanced vision she could see they were thick with spider webs and mildew from years of neglect.
It was here that the people had come to worship and preach and bow, before the new owner had bought it. Stretched out before her were rows of pews, and an altar at the other end, with a dusty podium in its center.
She spied the organ. A dusty sheet shrouded it. She walked between the pews over to it, her footsteps loud in the hallowed space. She felt strange in this room. Different than she had been in the rest of the building. There were holy trinkets that adorned the walls, and they seemed to bother her for reasons she couldn’t understand.
She pulled the sheet off the old organ. It was a beautiful old thing, with shiny brass pedals and intricate woodwork on its legs. She ran her fingers over the smooth keys, and imagined how wonderful it must have been when it filled this room with soothing hymns.
She crouched down and found the panel Twig’s father had described. She put her nails in the grooves and popped it off, revealing a few ziplock bags coated in dust. She pulled them out and set them on the organ bench. There was something else, a small black crossbow and several sleek arrows, bound with a few rubber bands. She grabbed the lot in her arms and stood back up. She opened one of the bags and saw several vials that radiated light and one filled with a dull grey liquid. She opened the other bag and almost fell over. A stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills. Zara flipped the corners of the cash. Must be about five grand, she thought, amazed.
She heard a noise and spun around. Nothing. The room was empty. Perhaps it was just bats, she thought.
She heard it again, a knock above her in the support beams. “Who’s there?” she shouted, and then quickly felt stupid for shouting. She got to her feet and set the money back down on the bench.
“Dear, dear Zara Lane. Breaking hearts and causing pain…” a voice echoed from above.
“I will crossbow you!” she shouted. Fumbling a bit, she loaded an arrow into the crossbow.
“Don’t bother little girl, you would only miss my heart again…” a black object dropped from the ceiling and landed behind one of the pews. Zara, in her terror, shot wildly at the object and missed. The object rose and took shape. It looked like Micah, but its eyes were reddish and his face was contorted and sinister looking.
“You know, I really thought you were different,” he shouted, looking at her with fiery zeal from across the room. “It was all Drake’s doing you know. Seduce and conquer. You see, James Sollero has become immune to our ways. His secrets were locked up nice and tight in that deranged mind of his. Drake knew you were close to the madman’s son. Said you would lead us right to what we wanted, a weapon of great power.” His eyes seemed to burn for the bundle of Ziploc bags she had dropped to her feet.
Zara felt waves of different emotions sweep through her. “So you used me? The whole thing was just some sick plan?” She looked at Micah, and for the first time saw that he was a monster, his once beautiful face had transformed into a real reflection of what he was on the inside. Spidery veins pulsed under the skin of his neck and cheeks.
“Like I said. It was Drake’s doing. He arranged it so that we would both be at this place that night. He was the one who drove you away from your friend so that I could make you mine. Only…I had grown attached to you. I thought you would come to your senses and join me. Join us. Drake made a wager with me that you would betray me, that you were too damn stubborn to go peacefully. Do you really think we would of let you run off like that at the museum? We allowed it to happen. And Vivian…oh sweet, hateful…Vivian. Well, that was just a bonus. Good riddance I say.” He snarled and moved closer.
Zara was stunned by this new revelation, and didn’t have time to react when Micah kicked her hard in the stomach and sent her crashing into the organ. It happened in a flash. She rolled on the ground. She knew the force of the blow should have killed her, but instead it only hurt like hell. He reached down and picked up one of the Ziploc bags and opened it. “Don’t try to stop me little girl,” he said, while lifting a small vial containing a liquid that seemed to radiate light. Zara summoned her strength and dove at him—her anger overcoming her pain.
He quickly took hold of her wrists and pinned her down to the floor. He was much too strong, she couldn’t push him off.
“Now now, little girl, you had your chance!” He held her down by her throat. She clawed and swiped at him but he wouldn’t budge. In his other hand he began to undo the top of one of the bottles of liquid sunlight.
“Let’s do a little quality control testing shall we? See what a big gulp of this does to sad little Zara Lane,” he was moving in to try to force her to drink, tilting the vial near her lips. Suddenly a voice called out, “Hey! Get off her creep!” Micah took his grip off Zara’s neck and turned his body a bit to see Twig standing in the doorway with a stake in his hand. Behind Twig stood the bartender and the huge bouncer from the other night, looking on with worry.
Micah howled with laughter. “The itsy-bitsy cavalry has arrived! I guess I give up!” He threw his hands up in mock surrender.
Twig made a motion forward and the bouncer and the bartender grabbed hold of both his arms.
“What are you doing?” Twig shouted with surprise. “I told you, this guy is psycho! He is trying to kill my friend!”
The two big men paid no mind to him and looked over at Micah, who was still straddling Zara. “What should we do with him Mister Caspari?”
Twig began to bellow and tried to shove them off, but the two men were strong and pushed him down to the ground.
“Did I not mention that I bought this place?” Micah said with a cheery voice. Then he narrowed his eyes at Twig. “This one has served his purpose, drive one of those stakes into his heart. Let the hipster die ironically.” He went back to tilting the vial over Zara, who squirmed and cried out for him to stop.
The men clumsily went for Twig’s stakes, but he wriggled free of their grip and backed them off with his machete. “Let her go!” He screamed.
Micah sighed and looked over at the nuisance.
While Micah was distracted, Zara jerked her knees up and sent Micah crashing into a pew. He quickly recovered and scurried into the shadows.
She jumped to her feet and rushed to Twig’s aid. She cast her fiery gaze at the two brutes. “You were just leaving.”
The two men gave each other one last puzzled look then turned and left without a word, closing the door behind them.
Micah cackled from the altar.
Zara and Twig both twisted around and looked down the aisle at him. He stood there with his arms spread wide. He was speaking a strange language, his booming voice shaking the ground and making dust fall from the ceiling.
“What…is that?” Zara asked, looking at Twig, who gripped a stake in his hand and gritted his teeth.
“That’s no language I know,” Twig replied in a whisper.
Before Zara could stop him Twig dashed forward, stake in hand. Micah dove at him with great speed, and lifted him up by his throat, holding him in the air. Zara rushed to help him but Micah was ready, and struck her with a backhand that flung her back like a child. She lay on the floor again, as Twig gasped and struggled. With his free hand, Micah snatched the stake out of Twig’s hand.
Zara's Curse (Empire of Fangs) Page 10