The Haunting

by E. M. MacCallum

Dim lights pointed to the floor, much like that in theaters, leaving large shadows on either side of us.

  If I stared too long, the shadows appeared like vapor, moving only out of the corners of my eyes.

  We were in a short hallway. I could see the end, which was still dimly lit and appeared to be a large open room, though not as large as the church behind us.

  Steadying my footsteps, I tried to ignore the fact that Read’s longer stride kept hitting my heels with his sneakers. He apologized over and over in whispers but, despite my annoyance, seemed unable to stop himself.

  Phoebe led us out into a large room.

  It was square with a tall ceiling that came to a point. Glossy wooden support beams edged the walls, separate from it. Arched doorways shrouded in darkness were all around us. There were six doors within the archways’ darkness, including ours.

  As far as I could tell, there was no source to the light in this room. No windows, torches, or tiny lights were on the floor. It was as if the room held a glow that was all its own.

  Phoebe’s sharp intake of breath alerted us all. To our right, a young boy no older than ten years stepped from the shadows of one of the archways.

  His eyes seemed to glow an aqua green as he surveyed us calmly. He had pale, flawless skin with full pink lips and a small nose that suited his petite, fragile face. Long auburn curls tumbled down his shoulders, making him look like a girl. No kid’s hair should ever look so perfected. It was too…adult of them. It was unnerving. He appeared as a child, yet he held himself like an adult. Even his clothes, a suit with a long tailcoat and a high collar, fitted to his slender frame, were that of an adult male.

  I watched him lick his pink lips slowly before raising a hand to us.

  Could this be Death? This little boy?

  At first I thought it was a greeting. Instead, I saw that it was a signal.

  Out of each of the holes, excluding our doorway, someone stepped through. Each person was as beautiful as the previous. None of them were more or less stunning, yet all were distinctly different.

  Two grown women, three men. No other children.

  Each wore old-fashioned clothing from different centuries. One of the men actually wore a purple toga embroidered with gold thread. He wore a ring that looked iron and had a symbol on it, but I couldn’t make it out. He looked as if he had just stepped out of ancient Rome.

  Another man looked like he’d just stepped out of the Victorian Era. He wore a high-collared white shirt beneath a vibrant red vest and black coat. If that wasn’t enough, he wore a tall top hat.

  The last man was disguised behind a long dark cloak and brimmed hat that was so large it shadowed his face.

  The women were both in dresses. The first, a dark-skinned woman, wore something out of 1700’s France. It was all ruffles, dark silken colors beneath a corset lined with red bows. The back of the dress fell like a cape behind her. The second wore a simpler dress that looked like she wrapped a colorful red, blue, and white quilt around her waist. Her top was a baggy white shirt, and her dark hair was a simple ponytail tied with a scarf.

  Each of them was devastatingly pale, even the French woman whose once nightly shade was dulled and smoothed to perfection.

  The Roman stared at Phoebe, eyes never wavering. He appeared to be a statue. If I hadn’t seen him step from the darkness earlier, I’d have thought he was.

  Phoebe stared straight back at him and cracked each individual knuckle.

  Both of the grown women seemed quite infatuated with Joel. They stared hungrily. The French woman kept sucking on her bottom lip. The simpler dressed woman just appeared curious, hypnotized.

  Joel spoke first, sounding cautious. “Who are you?”

  The little boy raised his hands, palms up. “What do we seem to be?”

  “Creepy,” Phoebe muttered.

  The Roman cracked an amused smile. His eyes wrinkled, though they never left Phoebe’s slender frame.

  I think she realized how naked she was for the first time. The tube top and shorts hardly covered enough anymore.

  This wasn’t good. This really, really wasn’t good.

  Claire said softly, “Vampires.”

  I felt my heart seize in my chest as I realized she could be right.

  Mr. London tilted his head to the side. “Can I have that one?” he asked, gesturing to Claire.

  “There’s plenty to go around,” the little boy answered. His voice was like music. I had never heard anything like it before and kept waiting for him to speak again. It felt addicting. Could he be putting some type of spell in his voice? Or did he really speak so beautifully?

  This meant we were in a vampire’s lair of sorts.

  I rolled my eyes when I realized there wasn’t any holy water at the front of the church. Only the large cross was in the front, and there were no smaller hand-held ones. Unless the crucifix didn’t bother them as much as legend suggested.

  Instinctively, I reached up and touched my neck, releasing Robin’s hand. She shuffled closer to me when I did.

  At my move, I saw the cloaked one’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. I could only make out the wolfish smile on stretched lips. He had a wide mouth, revealing the pointed canine teeth, unashamed.

  “What do you want?” Phoebe demanded, chin up and proud.

  The Roman laughed heartily. “I think you already know the answer to that, mea dulcis.”

  Is this what Death meant? “You’re going to turn us?” I asked.

  The boy dropped his hands. “Turn you?” He sounded sincerely curious.

  “Wouldn’t that be the death without Death?” I asked.

  The boy began to smile but stopped himself. He stepped closer to me, glowing eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”

  I cleared my throat. “I should be asking you that.”

  “Leiandros,” he said, his musical voice echoing off the stone walls of the room. “This is my brood. As you can tell, we don’t need any more. I’m curious why you’d think we needed you?”

  I searched for the warmth, but it still abandoned me.

  “Well, it’s either that,” I said, “or you can just eat us up right now and you’ll never know about the village.” I attempted to swallow the lie and seem genuine.

  I couldn’t hide my fear, but even if I had volunteered for this, I was sure I’d be scared to talk to a bunch of vampires.

  “A hidden village?” the Roman asked, eyes brightening. For the first time, his eyes flickered away from Phoebe.

  Her shoulders sagged.

  Read nodded, catching on. With theatrical timing, he said scathingly, “Yes. We were kicked out. They left us to die.”

  Oh, good idea.

  “Coming here, risking your lives,” the French female purred in a melodic accent, “for revenge?” She swept a hand over her bodice and smiled at Joel. “Why shouldn’t we just torture them?” This she asked the little boy. “We could get the information and eat them as well.”

  Oh, bad idea.

  “We’ve been poisoned,” Phoebe blurted. “If you eat us, we’ll poison you.”

  This seemed to cause the vampires to hesitate.

  Phoebe flipped up her leg to reveal the purple fang marks in her ankle. “See?”

  The Roman was entranced by Phoebe’s leg. He looked both aroused and repulsed at the same time.

  “Then you want to die?” the little boy questioned.

  Read shook his head, glancing at Phoebe disdainfully. “On the contrary. It’s a temporary poison. We had to be cautious.”

  I mentally patted Read on the back.

  “We could keep them here.” The French woman arched her swan-like neck down to gaze at the little girl. “Until this poison wears off.”

  The little boy shrugged as if we were suggesting Coke or Pepsi. “It doesn’t really matter,” he said, tilting his nose in the air.

  “Why’s that?” the Roman asked, still watching Phoebe’s legs.

  The woman in the colorful peasant’s clothing spoke
for the first time. She and Leiandros exchanged a cryptic glance before saying in a throaty, accented purr, “Because they are lying.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The Roman swooped in first, not quite a blur, but he was fast. Faster than me.

  One arm snaked around Phoebe’s waist and yanked her away from our group.

  She shrieked. Phoebe rarely screamed, and to hear it sent goosebumps up my arms. “Let her go!” I demanded, stepping in the direction of the little boy. If he was the leader, maybe he had some authority over the others.

  Leiandros’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you again?”

  I hesitated before allowing the venom to sneak into my tone. “I said…make him let her go.”

  Leiandros’s glowing eyes shifted toward Phoebe and the Roman, appraising.

  Phoebe kicked. As her heels smashed into the Roman’s shins, he jerked on impact, but his expression never changed. The oily smile stayed in place, and it looked like he gripped her harder. Leiandros smiled at the Roman, and for an instant, I thought he was going to tell him to let my friend go. Unfortunately, it was a nod. “She’s all yours, Lucius.”

  The swelling heat burned in my stomach, so small and fragile I knew it was useless. It was like heartburn but just a spark of a flame before it disappeared. “No, don’t. You…”

  It was too late.

  Lucius struck, much like a snake, digging fangs into the side of Phoebe’s throat from behind. I watched helplessly as Phoebe’s squirms lessened and her face twisted in a silent scream.

  Read jumped to grab Phoebe.

  The two women shoved him back so hard he was airborne.

  Read slammed into Aidan and me, sending us sprawling back through the archway we’d come from.

  Aidan called out, the pain sticking him to the floor as Read rolled off of us, stunned. I glanced at Aidan; he gripped his arm, his face twisted in agony. Struggling to my feet, I moved around him, wrapping my arms around his waist to help him stand up. With my help, he grunted and sputtered but staggered to his feet, sweat warm and sticky on his upper body.

  “Let her go!” Read shouted, forgetting us entirely.

  Phoebe writhed, her movements slowing, her teeth grinding in a toothy grimace.

  I couldn’t see Lucius’s face, but I heard the wet slurping echoing cruelly off the walls.

  “Nora!” Read shouted at me, his face blazing. “Do something.”

  For an instant, the warmth faltered. I realized that he expected me to somehow save Phoebe when I wasn’t sure how to use it in the first place.

  Rushing back into the room, I narrowly avoided Joel as he dragged Claire to the dark archway where Aidan stood.

  The dark, cloaked vampire stepped forward, his smile slipping as I took a deep breath. Concentrate, I thought to myself. Don’t let it fizzle out like with the Ona, I thought, feeling the doubt creeping into my conscience.

  I’d have to touch him, I realized. It didn’t work when the Ona had Claire because I wasn’t touching it.

  Stepping forward, I held up my hands in a truce. I eyed the two female vampires as I neared Phoebe and Lucius.

  “I just want to see,” I said.

  “See? Nora!” Read snapped.

  “Shut up, Read!” Aidan shouted. “You don’t feel that?”

  I knew Read couldn’t feel it. If Aidan felt anything, it was because he was the Keeper. For me, I felt the grinding within. Rusty gears trying to move, pausing and locking up. The power snapped, warmed, and died, refusing to sputter to life.

  The two women stepped in my way.

  My wide eyes sought out Leiandros behind me. “Please,” I insisted. “What could I possibly do to stop it?”

  Leiandros eyed me. It was several rapid heartbeats before I saw him nod to the women. “If she makes a move to stop Lucius, kill her.”

  That was promising.

  The two vampires parted, allowing me to slip between them.

  I felt the warmth in my chest swirling, gradually gaining speed, then screeching to a stop. My heart raced while every nerve vibrated with anticipation, with hope.

  Reaching out, I placed my hands on Lucius’s arm.

  He arched his head back, and I wished he hadn’t.

  Blood gushed and bubbled from Phoebe’s arterial wound. I watched her eyelids quiver as she attempted to keep them open. Her dark green eyes rolled toward me, painfully slow. It took several seconds before I saw recognition. A groan bubbled up to her lips, and I felt the twinge in my heart.

  I met Lucius’s gaze, my mouth set in determination. He is going to pay for this, I thought.

  Without warning, he dropped Phoebe before I had a chance to push the power forward. It was the last step as the power rippled over my arms, tickling the hairs to stand on end. Before I could release it into him, he jerked back.

  Gasping, I grabbed for Phoebe as she stumbled into me.

  The two vampire women darted in, and I reached back with both hands, saving the energy for them instead. I couldn’t hold it in much longer; it had to go somewhere. I could feel it aching to release. I didn’t think it was as much as I launched at the Ona, but it might be enough to stagger them, enough to give us a head start.

  Where we’d run to was a question for when we started to move.

  Frightened, I moved on instinct. My hands grabbing each of them before I shoved it free.

  Releasing the bubbling warmth was relief, like a much needed sneeze that took forever to come.

  My shoulders slackened as the world around me seemed to sigh. My senses became muffled. It reminded me of being younger, swimming to the bottom of the pool and opening my eyes. Pressure vibrated through the air, squeezing me gently.

  I wish I could say everything moved in slow motion, but it sped so fast I couldn’t keep up.

  Phoebe had fallen to her knees, eyes glazed. I saw Read come up beside me and grab her neck, trying to hold in the blood. He leaned her against his good shoulder and pulled her to her feet.

  I heard screaming and glanced over my shoulder and prepared myself to bolt.

  Aidan gripped his arm and was shoved back by Joel and Claire. Robin helped Read with Phoebe and kept glancing over her shoulder at me worriedly.

  With a burst, I heard Joel’s voice, clear and concise. “Get out!”

  Before I could take more than one step, Leiandros threw himself at me.

  I felt the powers burning and recoiling inside of my chest and stomach, but it wasn’t hot enough. I didn’t want to throw little bits of energy when I could save up for a bigger one.

  Mr. London grabbed me around the chest, fingers biting into the side of my breast just as Leiandros grabbed one of my dangling wrists.

  For the first time, I saw the two vampires on the floor. The two women had scars crisscrossing up their faces and arms, healed scars actually. It was like someone had hacked at them with a razor blade years ago. My demon powers did that?

  I felt hot-white pain in my wrist as Leiandros drove his fangs in and gasped sharply.

  Mr. London slipped an arm around my shoulders, his arm forcing my chin high. The other held my waist fast.

  Straining to move, I felt the blinding pain shoot up my arm as his fangs wiggled against my veins, making it hard to convince myself to move. His little mouth latched over the wound as his teeth jerked free.

  Crying out in surprise, I twisted, but he clung tight, unhindered by my spasms and jerks.

  Concentrating, I tried to make the fiery ball of energy in my chest get bigger, faster. After only a few seconds of Leiandros draining my blood, I was feeling woozy. The watery sensations weren’t lifting. I was moving slowly, but the world was moving fast.

  My eyes caught a blur of movement just in time to see Lucius the Roman stand in front of me, licking crimson lips, his eyes wild and large.

  The one in the dark cape came up to the other side of me and grabbed my wrist, but he didn’t bite. I felt myself begin to lose the function of my legs. It was getting too hard to stand, and if I could s
ave a little energy and make Mr. London work to keep me upright, then I was all for it.

  I sagged, my eyes rolling towards the darkened hallway we’d come through originally. I could still see my friends, struggling to escape.

  Lucius followed my gaze, flashed fang. Disturbingly, there was still blood between his teeth. In a shot, he darted down the hallway after them. I wanted to scream a warning, but from Robin’s wail, I was certain they already knew.

  The cloaked vampire lowered me to the floor and leaned over me. I saw his black eyes, dancing with amusement.

  I couldn’t help it. I smiled sardonically. “Damien.”

  “Nora,” he greeted coolly. “You’re overspent, you know.”

  “Just a second,” I answered, hearing the painful weakness in my tone.

  With a burst, I released the staccato magic. It slammed into Leiandros.

  In the excitement, I nearly passed out. The energy danced down my fingertips, snapping like elastic bands. My rigid body ticked and twitched, and I couldn’t seem to control it.

  Leiandros ripped himself free, and I saw the transformation with my own eyes. Whatever I’d thrown at him rippled just beneath his skin like thousands of worms, writhing and twisting. Around the worms, his skin became red, hot. His face twisted in terror as he opened his mouth to scream.

  He wasn’t given the chance as the slithering tyrant beneath his skin forced him to collapse.

  There was a little of the warmth left. It wasn’t much, and I knew it wouldn’t be nearly the damage I’d done to the boy, but I was ready to aim at the last vampire.

  Mr. London released me from behind in a quick, jerky motion.

  I collapsed in a heap and held in the last bit of the power. It was taking a quick breath before exhaling. It expanded and warmed my insides, aching to be released. The swelling reduced to a tiny hum, something I felt all too sharply.

  This little bit I’d keep for myself.

  I didn’t know where Mr. London went, but he’d disappeared by the time I thought to look.

  My attention was immediately drawn back to Leiandros.

  The little boy was laid out on the floor, his skin healing already, but his eyes were glassy and dead.