Young Blood: The Nightbreed Saga: Book 1

by Phillip Tomasso²

  “Did you see anyone else in the house?”

  Madison tried to stop crying, but couldn’t.

  “Madison, was anyone else in the house when you went in?”

  “No. No one was in there,” she said.

  “Did you touch anything in the kitchen?”

  “My mother.”

  “You touched your mother?”

  “I put her head on my lap, and I hugged her for a while.” That would have explained the print in the blood. There hadn’t been a need to smear it.

  “Did you touch anything else?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t think I did.”

  “How long were you in the house?” Wheeler’s tone of voice sounded different, perhaps accusatory.

  “I wanted to run out of there. My legs were like rubber. All I remember is falling next to my mother. I just remember holding her head in my lap. I don’t know. I don’t remember. I couldn’t have been in there long.”

  “More than a minute?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Less than ten minutes?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Is there anything else you remember that you think might help us figure out what happened?”

  Madison shook her head. “I don’t know. I have no idea what will help.”

  “What about Oliver? Did you touch him?”

  She had driven claws through his chest, pierced his neck with her teeth, and drank the blood from his body. “I saw he was on the floor, not far from my mother. He looked dead, too.”

  “Did you check?”

  “Check what?”

  “To see if he was dead.”

  “How would I check that?”

  “Feel for a pulse? Listen to see if he was breathing. Watch his chest to see if it was rising and falling?”

  Madison shook her head. “I didn’t do any of that.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “It looked like he’d murdered my mother. If he was dead, I didn’t care.”

  # # #

  “Maddy? Neal and Katie are here,” Adam called from the front door.

  Maddison knew. She heard Neal’s minivan pull up.

  A moment later there was a knock on her door.

  “It’s open,” she said from her chair in front of the vanity.

  Neal walked in first. He wore a sand colored suit, a crisp white dress shirt, and a chocolate brown tie. His wingtip shoes were polished to a shine. He smelled like his dad’s Old Spice. His hands were tangled together in front of him, fidgeting. He stepped through the room cautiously, as if on thin ice that had already shown signs of cracking. “Hey,” he said, and leaned in to kiss the top of her head.

  Madison wasn’t having it, and hugged him. “You look great,” she said.

  While they hugged, he whispered, “I think I found what you’re looking for.” He sounded very serious. Then he pulled out of the hug, shrugged, and lowered his head, as if embarrassed. “I got this head cold that won’t quit. I don’t think it’s contagious. But I don’t want to get you sick.”

  Madison hoped he’d been able to track down the traveling carnival. “I’m not too worried about getting sick,” she said. “Hey, Katie.”

  Katie’s black dress fit every curve as if made especially for her. It was nothing fancy, but looked stunning on her athletic figure. She clasped a small handbag in one hand and a white handkerchief in the other. “How are you doing?

  Neal sat down on the foot of the bed.

  “I’m good.” It was her canned answer. She’d been saying it over and over for days now.

  Her mother’s body hadn’t been released by police. There was an active investigation taking place. They were looking for a third person at the scene of the murders. There was no doubt Oliver killed Madison’s mother. The questions fell around who had murdered Oliver. The police could not determine what weapon was used to stab Oliver in the chest.

  Wheeler informed Adam that whoever had attacked Madison may have been responsible. Photographs of the wounds on Oliver’s neck were very similar to the marks Madison sustained, and the fact that Madison had lost so much blood, and Oliver was nearly bloodless, suggested some kind of sadistic person was loose in the area and responsible for both attacks.

  Madison had heard the conversation through the walls a few nights back.

  Neal and Katie had been over almost every day.

  Neal swore that he had not told Katie anything about anything.

  As much as Madison dreaded the calling hours for her mother, she found it difficult to focus. She was famished, and despite Neal’s Old Spice and the flowery scent Katie wore, their blood smelled amazing.

  “Your dad said we could all ride together, if you wanted,” Katie said.

  She couldn’t imagine having the three of them in the Jeep with her. She wasn’t sure she could handle it; they all smelled so wonderful. “Would you mind following us?”

  “No,” Katie said.

  “Only because, if I need to get out of there, you guys can whisk me away.” Madison hoped the explanation made sense.

  She didn’t think she’d get to leave early. Her father said family from overseas was in town for the funeral. She did not recall her mother ever having mentioned anyone from outside of Rochester. When she asked her father from where exactly, he shrugged and told her he did not know.

  Madison rolled her pendant around between her fingers. “I guess I’m ready.”

  Chapter 14

  Madison knew wearing sunglasses to a wake was acceptable, but the sunlight didn’t hurt for means of an explanation. The Jeep’s front windshield was in desperate need of washing. The spray and wipers merely spread dirt and streaked the glass. She kept checking the side mirror, worried Neal and Katie would fall behind, get lost, and miss the wake. She kept telling her father to slow down.

  “I see them,” he said. “They’re right behind me.” He wore a black suit, white shirt, and thin black necktie. His black shoes were polished to a shine. He wore sunglasses, too. “You doing okay?”

  Madison wanted to tell him the truth, that she was not okay. She wanted to tell him that she had no idea what was going on and was worried she’d lost her mind. She was convinced she had become a vampire, a living dead creature that craved blood. Worse, she had drunk blood, and killed a man. This made her not just crazy, but dangerous. “I’ll be okay,” she said.

  DiPonzio Funeral Home, on Spencerport Road, sat directly across from St. Theodore’s Church. He made a left into the drive and pulled around back to park. A man directed him to a vacant spot in an empty lot.

  “Is anyone here?” Madison said.

  “We’re first,” he said. “Gives us some time alone with your mother. Private time. Once people start getting here, you will be the center of attention. I’ll stay right by your side, okay? I won’t leave you alone.”

  “Why will I be the center of attention?”

  “You have been kind of lucky that not many people close to you have died.”

  “This is my first wake.”

  He nodded. “People deal with death in a funny way,” Adam said.

  “Funny, ha ha?”

  “Not quite.” He shifted into first gear, shut the engine, and released the clutch. “People are awkward. No one knows what’s best to say or do. They will pay their respects and then think it’s necessary to try and cheer you up. They’ll tell you silly things, like everything will be okay, and that time heals all wounds. They’re going to offer you their help, but it will be vague assistance when really, they don’t want you to call them. And if you did, it would make them uncomfortable.”

  “They wouldn’t want to help me if I needed it?”

  “They would. They’d just prefer not to, to pretend nothing happened, that your mother wasn’t murdered, and that you were okay. It’s like an illusion they construct to keep themselves protected in their own little safe world. If you called them it would shatter that made-up world.”

  “Is that everyone?” />
  “It’s most people.”

  “I don’t think I want to go in. I don’t want to be anyone’s center of attention. I’ve said my goodbyes.”

  “The wake isn’t for you,” Adam said.

  “It’s for them,” she said.

  Her father nodded. He set a hand over hers. “We just need to be strong and get through this, okay? You are not alone.”

  “I feel it.”

  “I’m with you.”

  She wanted to cry.

  # # #

  Neal and Katie stood on either side of Madison. They each held one of her hands, and walked behind Adam as he led them up the few stairs and pulled open the back door.

  Katie gave Madison’s hand a squeeze. “You good?”

  Madison nodded.

  A small black sign with white letters simply read:

  Room A

  Nancy Young (Fawdray)

  The four of them entered Room A.

  Madison knew there would not be a body, that her mother’s murder was still being investigated. Yet, she half expected to see a shiny brown and gold casket, the lid open revealing a silky and plush white lining, while inside the casket her mother would be wearing some blue dress, or worse, her waitress uniform, with her hands crossed over her chest, Rosary beads entwined between her fingers.

  Instead, there was a room of flowers displayed around a pedestal. On the pedestal was a framed photograph of Nancy Young. In it she was smiling.

  Madison could not remember ever having seen this picture.

  She approached the photograph. Her hands reached out to pick it up, but stopped short, and just a finger traced the upper corner of the gold frame. She didn’t expect to cry or feel anything.

  She cried.

  Hands touched her shoulders. “That picture was taken not long after you were born. It was one of my favorites,” her father said. “I had some newer photos, before the divorce, but none were as pretty as this one.”

  “It’s a good one, dad. I like it.”

  “What I told you in the Jeep, about how people handle death, it was true. Except when it comes to your family. When I tell you if you need anything, I mean it.”

  She reached up, and placed her hand over his. “I know that.”

  He kissed the side of her head. “We have people here.”

  Madison turned around. In the back corner, Neal and Katie stood together. They looked somber. Katie was crying, and Neal kept whispering to her.

  By the entrance to Room A, stood a man and woman.

  The man was tall, with blond hair that went just past his shoulders. He could use a shave. His eyes were blue and matched his necktie. The suit was grey, with a vest. The gold cufflinks and black onyx ring drew Madison’s eyes. He nodded a silent hello.

  The woman with the man in the grey suit had blond hair and blue eyes as well. She wore a grey dress that showed off her athletic build and long legs.

  Madison knew, without being told, that they were family. “Do you know them?”

  Her father shook his head. “They don’t look familiar.”

  “Do I go over to them?”

  “You could.”

  Madison walked toward the couple, her father beside her.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” the man said, and shook hands with Adam.

  “Thank you,” Adam said.

  “And you must be Madison,” the man said. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t,” Madison said.

  The woman smiled. She was beautiful. Her skin looked milky white and soft. Her eyes were large and bright. “We’re your cousins,” she said.

  “Second cousins,” the man added. “I am Seamus Fawdray. And this is my sister, Richelle.”

  Madison felt something inside her go warm. She wasn’t sure why. Meeting family she didn’t know she had calmed her. “I’m Madison. This is my father,” she said.

  “Our father, Daniel, was your grandmother Norma’s brother,” Richelle said.

  A few people entered Room A and were signing the guest registry. Madison saw firemen from her father’s company. They were here for him and for her. She knew it was not to pay respects to her dead mother.

  “I’m sorry we never met. Are you from Rochester?” Adam said.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault, really. We’re from Temuka,” Seamus said.

  “Temuka?” Madison cocked her head slightly to the side, and knew she’d arched an eyebrow.

  “New Zealand,” Richelle said.

  “We don’t want to dominate your time. We’ll sit over there.” Seamus pointed toward the row of chairs along the side wall. “Later, though, we would appreciate talking with you for a while. Catching up. Maybe hearing some stories about our cousin.”

  “If it isn’t asking too much,” Richelle said.

  “It’s not. I’d like that,” Madison said.

  She watched them walk away and take seats along the side wall. Richelle held a handkerchief in her hand and dabbed at the corner of an eye.

  “They came from New Zealand?” Madison said.

  “I guess so,” he said.

  She looked at her father. He was staring at her cousins. She felt it, too. Something was off about them, and it made her a little apprehensive until she realized what bothered her.

  She could not smell them.

  Chapter 15

  Madison was overwhelmed by the number of friends and students from school that showed. There were teachers in line to express their sympathies as well. The guest book was filled with names. She didn’t need to worry about watching over Neal and Katie. They knew plenty of people and were able to socialize while supporting her. Both Neal and Katie’s parents showed. They took turns hugging her. Neal’s mother could not stop crying long enough to console Madison, and kept apologizing for crying.

  At one point a line of people waiting to talk with her and her father stretched out of Room A, and down the DiPonzio hall. Eventually, Madison told Neal and Katie they could leave the wake at any time, that she appreciated very much them coming, but with family in from New Zealand, she would be busy most of the night. They understood, and left after seven when things quieted down some.

  Madison had kept an eye on her cousins. They were the only other family at the wake, and didn’t know anyone. They kept to themselves, never moving from the chairs along the wall.

  At seven thirty, Butcher walked into the funeral parlor. He was turning a hat slowly by the brim between his short beefy fingers.

  Madison touched her father’s arm. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She saw Seamus and Richelle watch her cross the room.

  “I heard about your mother,” Butcher said.

  “I appreciate you coming,” she said. She was uncomfortable with his presence.

  “I almost didn’t,” he said.

  Maybe you shouldn’t have, she thought. “It means a lot to me. I’m just not positive it was a good idea.”

  He nodded. Madison was confident his feelings were not injured; that he knew enough about what was going on to appreciate their being seen together could raise awkward questions.

  “I’ll just wander about for a few minutes,” he said, speaking softly. “Just so it isn’t too suspicious, my walking in and walking back out. How are you holding up? It might have been stupid, but I brought. . .coffee.”

  Coffee. Great code word, she thought, and almost bit into her upper lip to keep from licking them like a savage. “There’s no way I can get it now. I didn’t drive. Would it be asking too much to stop by later tonight?”

  He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “It’s not the same for you anymore, is it?”

  Madison knew what he referenced. “It’s a long story,” she said.

  Butcher’s eyes flitted toward Nancy’s framed photo.

  “No. I didn’t do that,” Madison said. She knew it was too loud, too stern, but hoped she’d not attracted attention, or more attention, anyway. “You should go
.”

  He nodded, slowly. “I will have a seat for a few minutes. Pay my respects, and then go.”

  “Don’t look, but don’t sit by the blond couple along the wall.” Madison knew Butcher craved explanation, but now wasn’t the time. The two of them had done enough whispering. “Later?”

  “Just call.”

  “I do appreciate you coming.”

  He took her hand in his. “If there’s anything else I can do, you let me know.”

  She gave him a quick hug. “Anyone asks, you’re a teacher from school.”

  Everything had become so clandestine. She hated it. Lies tripped people up. She felt like she was setting traps at every turn, maneuvering through them was going to get quite complicated.

  When, at eight, and everyone was gone, only her father, Seamus, and Richelle remained. She now felt forced to talk with them, realizing she had spent the evening only observing and mostly avoiding eye contact with her family.

  She approached them, her hands in front of her.

  “We were wondering if you were hungry,” Seamus said, as he stood up and held a hand out to assist his sister in getting to her feet.

  “If it is all right with your father, we would like to take you out to eat,” Richelle said.

  “I can ask him.” Adam was outside, more than likely talking with the men from work. “Do you have a place to stay? My father’s house has plenty of room for you. I’m sure he’d love to have you stay with us while you are in town.”

  “We fly back out in the morning. We have a hotel by the airport,” Seamus said. “Thank you. That was a very generous offer. The last thing we wanted to do was impose, but we do need to talk to you.”

  “It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  Richelle continued to smile.

  “What do you mean?” Seamus said.

  Madison shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

  “I see you’re wearing your grandmother’s pendant.” Richelle pointed at the charm. The tip of her finger almost touched it, but stopped short. Instinctively, Madison covered the pendant, protectively.