by C. J. Pinard
It was a quaint room with a small double-sized bed, a heavy wooden bureau, and a small foot locker. Aiden was sitting on the bed removing his shoes.
“How is your shoulder?” he asked, stripping off his socks.
“It’s sore but it will heal. I’m really hungry. Are we going out after your cousins go to bed?” she asked.
Aiden grinned. “Yes. We will definitely be hunting. Not just for food, but for a certain wolf who needs to be taught a lesson.”
Just then, Pascal knocked on the doorframe. “We eating tonight?”
“Seems everyone is famished from the trip,” Aiden said, chuckling. “Yes, we leave as soon as the family goes to sleep.”
“Well they seem to have retired for the night,” Pascal replied. “House is dark and bedroom doors are closed.”
Aiden nodded. “All right, lad. Let’s get going then. Shouldn’t have removed my shoes, I suppose.”
Elaine laughed. “You hate shoes, nobody’s surprised you removed them, you silly man.” She kissed him on the cheek.
The three crept out of the house and down the rickety porch steps, pulling their coats up around them to shield themselves from the cold and snow flurries. The vampyres weren’t cold, but had to appear to humans to be.
The streets were dark, very few people were out as the three made their way down the desolate sidewalks. A horse and carriage tromped past them and came to stop at a small shop at the end of the street.
“We aren’t going to last very long at my cousin’s,” Aiden said. “Those windows are much too large and the coverings are sparse and light. I am going to have to find something to cover them with for our sleep tomorrow.”
Elaine bit her lip. “I noticed that. I hope we can find something.”
“I have a few horse blankets in my trunk, I’ll use those if I have to. Now, be on the lookout for any signs on these homes of people needing boarders. We need to find our own place quickly.”
As they made their way to the end of the street, they saw what appeared to be a well-to-do couple exit the carriage and enter a small store that appeared to still be open. It looked like some sort of apothecary and the vampyres followed the couple inside.
A short, older man with glasses wearing a white apron greeted them. “Hello, folks. What can I do for you?”
The couple from the carriage approached the counter first and appeared to be ordering some sort of medicine while her husband eyed the vampyres speculatively.
Aiden walked over to the man and put his hand out. “Hello, I’m Aiden. This is my wife, Elaine and my brother, Pascal,” he said. “We are new to town.”
“Peter Morris. This is my wife, Cora,” the man replied, shaking Aiden’s hand.
“Mr. Morris, do you know if there is perhaps an all-night café open anywhere around here?”
Peter furrowed his brow and scratched his head. “I suppose you could try Angus’s on Seventh Street.”
Aiden smiled. “Could you show me where that is?”
Cora grabbed a small paper bag from the man behind the counter and thanked him.
“Come on, dear,” Peter said. “I’m going to show these nice folks where Angus’s is. Go wait in the carriage.”
“Hi, I’m Elaine,” she said to Cora.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Cora replied, dipping her head slightly.
“Why don’t you both show us where the café is and we can talk on the way?” Pascal suggested.
Peter shrugged and they walked outside. “It’s really not that far, just ‘round that corner there.”
The three vampyres walked ahead and Aiden said, “This corner? Can you point me the way?”
The couple walked to the corner with them and Peter pointed down the street. “See that street lantern? It’s right in front of there.”
When they were out of sight of the carriage driver, Aiden grabbed Peter and Elaine grabbed Cora and they pushed them up against the wall of a nearby building on the dark side street.
Both yelled briefly but quickly quieted down once the vampyres began to feed. Aiden and Elaine were at their necks and Pascal had Cora’s wrist. When they were well-fed, they left the couple on the side of the dark street, very much out cold and barely alive.
∞∞∞
Portland, Oregon – Present Day
My head was pounding and I couldn’t remember anything. “How long have I been asleep?” I asked, sitting up. I looked around and finally remembered I was in the limo with the handsome stranger.
He smiled, his shiny white teeth gleaming off the streetlights from outside. “Three days, love.”
My eyes got big. “Three days?” There was just no way.
“Yes, you’ve been recovering nicely at my home.”
Wow, that’s not creepy at all, I wanted to say, but didn’t, so I settled for, “I’m… thirsty.”
Pascal poured me a small glass of straight tequila. “Drink.”
I eyed him, then the drink, raising an eyebrow. “More Mexican piss water?”
He laughed. “Yes, drink it fast.”
I shrugged and downed the shot, shuddering. I held the glass out to him. “Another.”
He looked amused as he quickly poured me another. I drank it down and handed him back the glass.
I put my hand to my neck and felt two small scabs. I furrowed my brow. “What happened to my neck?”
He was quiet for a long minute. “I tasted you,” he finally replied seriously.
I smiled. “You’re joking.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “About blood, I never joke.”
I shook my head. “I’m still thirsty. Do you have any water, or maybe a Coke?”
“I bet you are. And no, I am going to get you something much sweeter,” he said. Then he hit a button on the door which lowered a tinted glass that separated us from the driver. “Michael. Our guest is hungry, pull over when you find a suitable meal for her, will you please?”
“Yes, sir,” the driver replied. He was young, but balding, and what was left of his hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. He had a thick moustache and biceps the size of melons. He rolled the glass partition back up.
“I said I was thirsty, not hungry,” I said with a smile, the alcohol now beginning to go to my head.
“I know, Love. But trust me, you’re hungry.”
I was confused by this but kept my mouth shut. I eyed the strange Englishman and wondered what his story was. He seemed mysterious, yet I trusted him for some reason. I wasn’t afraid being in the limo with him, but I did begin to wonder what he was up to. He was acting strangely and I secretly wondered if he had taken advantage of me while I was passed out… for three days. Still can’t believe that one.
“So, um, where are we going?” I asked.
Just then, the limo began to slow and pulled over in front of a McDonald’s, which had several teens on skateboards hanging out in front of it.
“I don’t like fast food,” I said quickly and more boldly than usual due to the liquid courage burning a path through my body. Truth was, during my runaway days, I had eaten scraps of fast food from wherever I could find it, or I would take my last dollar and buy something cheap to eat. Now that I had a paying job, I never wanted to see another chicken nugget as long as I lived.
Pascal laughed. “You will learn to love ‘fast food’ soon, trust me.”
I could hear Michael in the front laugh, too, and I thought it odd that I could hear him through the thick glass.
Pascal rolled his window down and called out to the kids in front of the McDonald’s. “Hey, boys. Come here, I need a favor.”
Two boys, about sixteen or seventeen, came over to the window. “Hey, dude, you looking to score?” one asked, his eyes shifting nervously from right to left as he licked his lips.
“Bloody druggie,” Pascal muttered under his breath, but only I seemed to hear it, not the teen.
“Yes, come inside where it’s warm,” said Pascal, opening the door.
“This is so cool!” one said.
“Would you like a drink?” Pascal offered.
Both nodded.
As he poured their drinks, one asked, “So what’cha want? Blow, acid, dope? I got it all, man.”
He handed them each a small glass of whiskey. “Drink, it’s good.”
Both boys downed the strong whiskey and one began coughing.
I looked at the strange scene and wondered what Pascal was doing. I didn’t peg him for a drug user, and wondered briefly if he was maybe into random gay sex rendezvous with strange boys.
“Come, sit by me,” Pascal ordered one of the boys, patting the seat next to him.
Oh, here we go, I thought to myself. I looked outside to see how far I would have to run if I decided to leave. Then I noticed the driver was standing outside, leaning on the door, his massive frame blocking my exit. I thought it was strange and I shuddered.
When I looked back over, I noticed Pascal staring at me. He said, “Watch and learn, beautiful.”
Then his eyes turned black as coal and he bit into the boy’s neck. The teen let out a small yelp but quickly succumbed to the bite, almost enjoying himself. The other teen watched on in awe and said, “Oh shit… oh, hell no! I’m outta here!”
Then he noticed Michael standing in front of the door and panicked.
My eyes were wide and I realized my mouth was open. Then something strange happened. My stomach growled and I began to salivate. I was so hungry. I felt a tingling on my upper gums, almost an ache; I ran my tongue along my top teeth and felt that two of them now had sharp points. I gasped.
Pascal lifted his head, a dribble of blood running down his chin. He motioned with his head toward the other boy and said, “Help yourself. Do as I do.”
I looked from the other frightened boy to Pascal and back to the boy, and grinned.
“Come here, I won’t hurt you,” I said, almost unable to control the words slithering out of my mouth and the smile on my full lips.
The boy was now crying, tears leaking down his cheeks as he shook his greasy head and tried to shrink back in his seat.
I went over to him and he whimpered. I began softly touching his chest, his arms, his face, his neck. He froze, stiff with fear. I was now drooling, my own bitter tasting saliva dribbling down my chin. The boy was still silently crying when I did something I never thought I would ever do; I instinctively bit into his neck. The boy yelped and squeezed my arms, digging his dirty nails into my skin. But I didn’t care, it didn’t even hurt. I began to drink and it was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Pascal sitting with his arms folded, watching me with a sick grin on his face. The other boy lay slumped on the floor.
I pulled myself off the teen and pushed him aside, wiping my mouth with my fingers. I then burst into tears and put my head in my hands and sobbed. Pascal did nothing but sit and watch me.
I looked up from my sobs and whispered to him, “What did you do to me?”
Angel jerked awake, gasping.
Why am I being plagued with these nightmares? she thought to herself as she lay back down, looking at the nightstand clock. It was 2:30 in the afternoon, not time to get up yet.
She sighed and looked over at Pascal, who was very much asleep, his wild black waves contrasted against the stark white pillowcase. She didn’t like watching him sleep. He didn’t breathe deeply and rhythmically like humans do when they sleep; he looked dead, like he should be lying in a coffin.
She wished he was lying in a coffin. Six feet under. With a stake in his chest. Then she would be free.
So free.
∞∞∞
Nighttime blanketed Portland as the vampires awoke for the evening. It was Friday, and they all had to be at the club to work.
But first, a meeting.
Bryan and Brandon were sitting at the dining room table when Pascal, Mike, and Angel came downstairs, ready to go. Angel had on the tightest black leather outfit Brandon had ever seen and he had to tell himself to close his mouth. She had added a couple of black stripes into her platinum hair, and he thought it looked better than the pink she had before. She was wearing very tall red stiletto heels and had black leather wrist guards and a choker on. Pascal had on a sharp-looking charcoal gray suit with a red shirt and black tie. His shoes were shiny and his hair was pulled back tightly into his signature ponytail. Mike looked as he always did; blue jeans and a black Night Crawlers tee. Why he wanted to look like a bouncer all the time was always a mystery to Brandon. No class.
“See you guys there,” Angel said, waving as they headed for the door. She purposely made eye contact with Brandon and winked at him as Pascal turned his head.
Brandon sucked in a breath and smiled back at her.
As the door closed, Bryan turned to Brandon. “Dude, what was that?”
Brandon turned his head to the side and bit back a smile. “What?”
“Seriously, don’t screw with that one. The last guy who did met the sun.”
Brandon smiled. “So? I love the sun.”
“There are other ways we can die, you know,” Bryan replied seriously.
Brandon shook his head. “Speaking of meeting the sun, I have been thinking a lot about what we’ve been discussing lately.”
“What do you mean?”
Brandon picked a stray piece of lint from the sleeve of his blue dress shirt. “I mean, Pascal isn’t going to be easy to kill. He’s old, he’s fast, and he’s connected. But I do know one thing that will kill him that won’t kill us.”
Bryan grinned. “The sun.”
CHAPTER 12
∞∞∞
Springfield, Mass. – 1824
Within a month of arriving in America, the vampyres found themselves a small farmhouse on the outskirts of town. They preferred the seclusion and the farm atmosphere felt more like home to them. Aiden used what little money he had to purchase a couple of horses and some livestock.
The month they lived in the city had proven unsuccessful in locating Martin and whatever was left of his pack of shapeshifters. They gave up and figured they would probably be safer living on the farm anyway, and soon Martin was forgotten about.
Aiden lucked out and sold his large ship to a wealthy man who wanted to sail around the world. Aiden bought himself a smaller fishing boat he could use to fish for sport. He wasn’t interested in large hauls for profit like he had in England. He was happy with his farm. Night fishing wasn’t as profitable in America as it had been in England anyhow.
Pascal worked on the farm but he preferred to be in the growing city. It had been ten years since they arrived in this New World and he couldn’t get enough of it. He would ride his horse around at night and discover smaller towns. He had plans to go to Boston and see what a big city was actually like. He was hoping it would be a lot like London.
It was early morning, before sunrise, and the human farmhands had come to work for the day, feeding the chickens and the rest of the livestock while they tended and tilled the grounds. Aiden greeted them, paid them their weekly wage, and informed them he was off to bed. Just then, Pascal rode in on one of the horses. He put the horse in the barn and walked toward the farmhouse.
“Hey, lad, where ya been? Out all night again?” Aiden asked.
Pascal was slightly annoyed at the inquisition. “Yes, why?”
“Well, there was a full moon last night, and aside from the dangers of a full moon that we have already discussed, I could have used the help around here. Elaine and I can’t do it all, ya know.”
Pascal smirked. “Isn’t that what you have the humans for?” He pointed toward the chicken coop where they were scattering feed.
“Yes, son, but there’s a lot of tilling to be done right now, spring is here and crops are getting abundant.”
“Yes, well I’m going to sleep now. I’ll help you tonight, but after t
hat, I would like to take a small trip by myself.” Pascal kept walking as he spoke and went into the house and closed the door.
Aiden shook his head and followed him inside, but Pascal’s bedroom door was already closed. He looked toward the window and saw the first pink threat of dawn and went into his own room for the day.
Later that evening once everyone was up, Elaine served up tea for the three of them.
“How did you sleep?” Aiden asked, blowing on his steaming teacup.
“Fine,” Pascal replied, sitting.
Aiden wrapped his cold hands around the cup and eyed Pascal. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he asked, “Did you say you wanted to take a trip? To where?”
Pascal was now blowing on his tea. “Yes, to Boston.”
Aiden turned his head. “Why?”
“Why not?” he smiled.
“Is there something you are hoping to find there?”
Pascal set his cup down and sighed. “What is so wrong with wanting to see more of America? I don’t mind living on this farm, but I do enjoy the cities, too. Don’t you wonder what else is out there?”
Aiden huffed. “I’ll tell you what’s out there; trouble. Shifters, other vampyres, and humans with their torches, and their crosses and their stakes. Our kind does better in seclusion.”
“Yes, but what is the point in living this long life if we are going to seclude ourselves out here on this godforsaken farm, Aiden? I need more from life.”
Aiden stood up so quickly, his heavy wooden chair squeaked on its legs then felt crashing to the floor. His face twisted into a mask of rage. “You ungrateful little sod! I have given you everything! What is the matter with you?”
“Calm down, Aiden,” Elaine said, coming close and patting the large Irishman on his back.
“You are incorrigible, Aiden! I am simply asking to spend a few days in the city! What is the harm in that?”
Aiden said nothing, he went out the front door, slamming it so hard, one of the hinges came loose. Elaine and Pascal could hear him yelling in his old world Gaelic tongue, and while neither could understand the strange dialect, they could tell they were most likely words that would make a priest blush.