by C. J. Pinard
Thomas let out a gasp. “Was he hurt?”
Seth laughed and shook his head. “Hell no he wasn’t hurt, the bastard shot me. And after I shifted back into a human, he dragged my ass to his Chevy and threw me in the backseat and interrogated me for what seemed to be hours, but as I look back on it, it was probably only about thirty minutes.”
“What was he interrogating you about?”
Seth grinned wickedly under his scruffy beard. “Why, his long, lost son, of course. Told me your name, asked where you were, how to find you, if I’d heard of you… you get the picture.”
“And you told him… what?” Thomas asked, arms folded.
“What could I tell him? I didn’t know shit, man. I had a feeling he was talking about that kid in the alley that William attacked. Which of course turned out to be you, right?”
“Hey, whatever happened to William?” Jonathan asked.
Seth shrugged. “Dunno, never saw him again after that night. Guess you scared the shit outta him by throwing him against that wall the way you did.”
Jonathan bit back a smile, but said nothing.
“So how did the interrogation end with my father?” Thomas asked.
“I told him about the alley and he dropped me at the hospital like he promised. End of story.”
Thomas thought about this, then asked, “So how did he react when he saw you shift into a person?”
“That’s the funny part; he didn’t seem surprised.”
Thomas nodded but said nothing.
“Now out with it, where’s Sheena? She refusing to see me or something?”
Jonathan frowned and looked down. He then slowly raised his head and looked Seth in the eye. “Sheena’s dead.”
Seth gasped and almost fell off the cold metal bench. “What?”
“Sorry, man. She died in an explosion – in her own trailer, mind you.”
Seth now had tears in his already-red eyes. “She blew up her own trailer?”
“We don’t know. But as soon as we got her inside, the thing blew,” Thomas said, still hating to lie, even to someone like Seth. But nobody could know that Jonathan had removed her head before the trailer blew.
Details.
“You should know that she died for you, Seth. She kidnapped Kathryn, said we weren’t getting her back until we released you. Of course, that tactic never works. We tracked her down and that was the end,” Jonathan replied.
Seth said nothing, just sat on the bench with his head down, tears falling directly onto the gray stone floor.
“We will see you Wednesday, Seth,” Jonathan said as they walked away.
CHAPTER 9
∞∞∞
South Shields, England – 1814
Aiden was heading to bed as Sebastian came through the front door.
“Where you been, lad? It’s almost sunrise. I was gettin’ worried! When we wake tonight, we set sail!”
“Sorry. I had to… take care of something.”
Aiden narrowed his eyes at him. “What did you do?”
Sebastian grinned wickedly. “Let’s just say that redheaded tart is no more.”
“Smashing! Well it’s good we’re getting’ outta here then. You went all the way to Newcastle last night?” Aiden asked.
“Yes. I had to do this, Aiden. Her companion killed Silas. I have to spend eternity without him now. Her husband gets to spend his short, miserable life without his wife now, too.”
It seemed Sebastian knew nothing of Jonathan Murphy’s fate.
“Get to bed, boy. Long day ahead,” Aiden said, shaking his head.
Sebastian nodded and headed toward his bedroom. He fell into a restless sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
At sunset, they packed up what they had in trunks, and leaving the small farmhouse behind, they boarded The Elaine. They had secured ten human crewmen to help them sail to the New World, which they knew would take weeks. As the anchor was released, and the massive ship began to drift out to sea, Aiden gathered his crew on the bough of his ship. He was holding a large bottle of Port after pouring a little into the glasses of each of the crew.
“To my crew. May the road rise to meet you, may the wind always be at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your face, and may the rains fall softly upon your fields,” Aiden said, giving the crew his blessing.
“Here, here,” they all replied, raising their glasses and cheering.
“Now get to work, you scallywags!” he joked as he went down into the store of the ship to check on his crates and barrels. Sebastian followed him.
“‘May the sun shine warm upon your face’? Really?” he asked, joking.
“Hey, it’s an old Irish blessing. I learnt it when I was just a child.”
Just then, Martin came down into the store. “Hey, Aiden. What do you want us to do first? The crew already seems tired.”
Aiden smiled. “They can sleep, I don’t expect them to change their sleeping schedule. I’ll tell you what, you tell them that they will work during the day, and you, Sebastian, Elaine, and I will take the nightshift. How does that sound?”
Martin smiled, happy to have duty with the Captain and First Mate. “Will do, Captain,” he said with a salute.
The crew followed this pattern of work for weeks. Martin and the vampyres slept during daylight hours and the rest of the crew worked during the day. Nobody questioned it. Once a week, Aiden, Elaine, and Sebastian would sneak from their cabins and find a sailor who was alone, either eating or napping, and would quickly feed, then quickly glamour them by staring into their eyes by making them forget. Once a week feedings kept them strong enough to function and wasn’t preferred, but they didn’t want to risk being found out. Aiden had changed his mind about revealing his true nature to the crew, and he found it was for the best.
One morning, after a long night of work, the sun was barely beginning to peak over the endless ocean’s horizon. Aiden went below deck and found a young crewman, who didn’t appear to be much older than a teen, eating breakfast.
“Hi, son. Just getting something to drink before I pack it in,” he said.
The young man said, “Did you have a good night, Captain?”
Aiden smiled. “Yes, we did. Smooth sailing, no trouble. We’ve been very fortunate with the weather so far.”
The boy smiled at his captain and went back to reading his book.
Aiden walked over and stood behind him, and asked, “What’cha readin’?”
The boy flipped the book over to reveal the cover. “Oh, just an old –”
His words cut short when Aiden bit into his neck. The man let out a small yelp but quickly quieted down.
Just then, Martin entered the hull and let out a gasp when he saw the scene before him.
Aiden turned around when he heard the gasp and looked at Martin, blood dribbling down his chin, his eyes completely blackened over.
Martin let out a low growl and his hands began to slowly transform into claws. “Chingado vampiro, I could smell it on you. I was wondering how long it was going to take before you lost control, bloodsucker.”
Aiden’s eyes went back to normal as he ogled Martin’s hands. “Feckin’ shapeshifter.”
The young man now had his head slumped on the table and was snoring lightly. Martin looked at him and pointed. “Fix that.”
Aiden turned around slowly but never took his eyes off Martin’s as he lapped at the sleeping boy’s neck punctures to help speed up the healing. Licking his finger after wiping his mouth, Aiden said, “It seems we now find ourselves in quite the predicament, don’t we now, shifter?”
Martin folded his arms, his claws retracted. “I don’t see how. There’s no way off this ship right now. You stop feeding on the crew and I won’t call up my beast and tear you to pieces.”
Aiden threw back his head and laughed. “I have killed every shapeshifter who has crossed me. Do you not think I could do the same to you, boy?”
Martin scowled at him. “I know where you sleep, vampi
ro.”
“As do I know the location of where you lay your head.”
Sebastian came downstairs and he could sense the tension in the air. He looked at both men, then down at the sleeping boy. “What happened to him?”
Martin, arms still folded, looked at Sebastian then back at Aiden. “Another vampyre, I’m assuming?”
Sebastian’s eyes got big as he looked at Aiden. “You told him?”
Aiden did not smile nor did his eyes leave Martin’s. “Nope, he figured it out.”
“How?” Sebastian asked.
Martin snorted. “Caught the captain here feeding on this poor nino here.”
“And what do you know of vampyres? Have you met others?” Sebastian asked, genuinely curious.
“Yes, lots of them in Spain, where I was born.”
Aiden and Martin continued to stare each other down, each not moving or speaking.
Sebastian looked between them and said, “So what’s the problem? We’re not going to hurt you, Martin. I rather like you, if you must know,” he smiled tightly, trying to ease the tension.
Aiden looked at him then back at Martin. “I think we only have one option here; a truce. You keep your mouth shut and I will keep mine shut.”
“No deal unless you leave me and the crew alone. You won’t die in the next few weeks if you don’t eat. I’ve been around plenty of your kind. I assume Elaine is a night creature as well?”
Aiden nodded. “I suppose you have yourself a deal.” He put his hand out.
Martin eyed it speculatively and gradually went over and shook Aiden’s hand. “Truce.”
“C’mon, Aiden, lets retire for the day,” Sebastian said, heading back toward the steps. Aiden walked backward, eyes never leaving Martin, out of the hull and to his cabin.
The luck of the Irish was definitely on their side as they sailed to America. Aiden had researched the Gulf Stream, and following that, they reached the New World in just six short weeks with no crew casualties and no bad weather.
The massive ship docked in Springfield, Massachusetts. As the crew waited for sunset to disembark, Aiden, Elaine, and Sebastian were in the hull of the ship talking.
Aiden sat and stared at Sebastian for a while.
“What?” Sebastian asked, smiling.
“You know, lad. I think it’s time we change your name. New world, new names. We should all change our names. Lots of the immigrants do it.”
Sebastian smiled. “I wasn’t planning on using Bell anyhow.”
“The entire name. First and last. What do you say, boy? Find a name you like and we’ll get papers to match.”
Sebastian thought about this for a long time. Then he started to remember how, as a human, he would dream of going to France to escape England. The New World wasn’t France – it was better. He thought in honor of that decision, though, he would pick a French name. Then he smiled.
“What is it, lad?” Aiden asked.
Still grinning, Sebastian said, “I got it.”
“Well, don’t just sit there grinning like the cat who got the canary – out with it, boy!”
“Aiden, Elaine, from this day forward, you shall call me Pascal Theroux.”
∞∞∞
Portland, Oregon – Present Day
Jason Swift stood leaning against the hood of Thomas’s blue BMW. He had his head down, typing something with his thumbs on a BlackBerry. The parking garage at the Murphy Architecture building in downtown Portland was guarded, but a quick flash of a badge gained him easy access to the underground structure.
The garage’s elevators chimed and Jonathan and Thomas exited the elevator, talking to each other in hushed tones. Thomas stopped mid-sentence when he saw the stranger leaning on his car.
“Excuse me, who are you and how did you get in here?” Thomas asked, his hand moving instinctively to his gun holster.
The clean-cut blonde-haired man pocketed the BlackBerry and smiled warmly, pulling an ID from the breast pocket of his three-piece suit. “Jason Swift, BSI. Thomas O’Malley, I presume?”
Thomas shook his proffered hand. “Nice to meet you. This is Jon–”
“Jonathan Murphy, I know,” Jason interrupted.
Jonathan put his hand out. “How can we help you, Agent?”
“Is there a place we can speak privately?” Jason asked.
“Well, we were just heading to lunch. Get in,” Thomas said, pushing the unlock on his key fob.
“Is it okay if I leave my government car down here?” he asked, pointing to a boring white sedan.
Jonathan laughed. “I was going to say yes, it will be perfectly safe, but I am kind of questioning my security at the moment, since you didn’t seem to have any problem entering my garage.”
Jason smiled from the backseat. “U.S. Department of Justice… this badge gets me anything I want, from secret bank vault access to free drinks in a titty bar.”
“Nice,” Jonathan said.
Aside from the rain that pelted the roof of the car with a thunderous racket, they drove mostly in silence to the restaurant, which was only five blocks from the building.
“Three,” Thomas told the hostess. “Your most quiet, private table, if you have it available,” he added.
“Sure! Right this way, gentleman.” The girl smiled at Thomas. She batted her eyes then winked at him.
Thomas could feel the red stain creep up his neck and invade his face at her flirtation.
Jonathan chuckled. “Still got it, kid.”
The trio was seated in a corner table in front of a large window that overlooked the drizzling city. A server quickly brought them three waters.
“So, Mr. Swift, I assume this is important if the BSI wants to meet with us,” Jonathan said, sipping his water.
“Yes,” Jason replied, seriousness in his blue eyes. “I wanted to speak with you about Pascal and his band of vampires. Have you noticed he has increased his numbers exponentially lately?”
Thomas shook his head. “To be honest, Agent, we haven’t had any complaints or problems with the Portland clan lately. We did have an issue with them a few months ago, but they’ve been quiet, as far as we know. Although we really should do a check of Night Crawlers this weekend,” Thomas finished, more to himself.
“Well you should know that we have reason to believe that he has found a way to make vampires who can resist the effects of the sun.”
Jonathan’s eyes got big. “You’re shitting me.”
Jason laughed. “Not at all, I’m afraid. I don’t know how he’s done it, but we’d like your help in finding out so we can put a stop to it. A sun-resistant vampire is a dangerous vampire.”
“What makes you suspect the people you see during the day are even vampires? Maybe they’re just paid human help or even blood whores,” Jonathan replied.
Jason set his sweating glass down. “That’s what we thought, too. I went to Night Crawlers one night and saw some vampires feeding on these twins. So I followed them after they left the club and they went to Pascal’s big house on Mockingbird. Not much happened after that so I went back the next day and saw the very same vampires walking around outside in the middle of the day – the sun was even out that day.”
Thomas looked at Jonathan and pointed at him. “Don’t you remember the day Darius… got old? That’s what Pascal was trying to do, that’s why he stole the Enchantment, to see if it could make them day-walk. I bet he figured out a way.”
Jason looked confused. “He did what?”
“The short story is, he stole some of the elixir the sylphs make for us to keep us immortal and took it to the Oregon Vortex and made one of his vamps drink it. Let’s just say the guy can walk in the sun now with no problems, but he’s also in an old folks’ home. Not only turned him human, it aged him to his true age. It was quite a right sight, I tell ya,” Jonathan finished, shaking his head.
Now Jason’s eyes were big. “You’re shitting me.”
Thomas chuckled. “Afraid not.”
“T
he Oregon Vortex – that tourist trap south of here? Why there?”
Thomas shook his head. “We don’t know.”
Jason pulled out his BlackBerry and began furiously thumb-typing.
“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, jutting his chin at the device.
Jason answered without looking up. “Oh just taking some notes.”
Jonathan’s brow furrowed. “Why don’t you just write it on a notepad?”
“Because this is faster,” Jason answered, chuckling.
The server showed up just then to take their orders. When the three had placed their orders, the server left them alone once again.
Thomas said, “I have an off-the-wall question.”
Jason pocketed the BlackBerry and said, “Shoot.”
“You aren’t by chance related to –”
“Adam Swift? Yes, he was my great-grandfather,” he smiled.
Jonathan smiled. “We knew ol’ Adam Swift. He was a great BSI agent. Did you know him?”
“Nope, died when I was a baby. His son, my grandfather, he was a longshoreman, but my father, he was Portland P.D. Nobody knew my great-grandfather’s secret of the BSI except me. My parents and grandparents never knew.”
“How did you find out about it?” Thomas asked, squeezing lemon into his water.
“Well, when my grandpa died, my dad and I had to clean out the house and sell it. We put all his old boxes into our attic and kinda forgot about them. The summer I graduated high school, I went into the attic looking for some old papers, birth certificate, et cetera, because I planned on joining the police force. I have wanted to be a cop for as long as I can remember.
“Well, as I was looking through boxes, I came across a small one marked ‘Adam Swift’ and of course, being the nosey cop-wannabe that I was, I looked in it. Most of it was junk – papers, his government service pins, etc., but I did find his old badge. I opened it up and was shocked when I read ‘Bureau of Supernatural Investigations’ written in small print under the DOJ seal. That sounded like the coolest job ever! I have seen every single episode of the X-Files and I started to imagine myself as Fox Mulder, investigating alien abductions and shit.”