by J S Hazzard
One line down, three more to go.
I maneuvered the necessary doors for each word of my rhyme in turn. Despite my anxiety, I moved smoothly through lines two and three. I felt a grim satisfaction as Rebecca stormed away—right, and straight ahead—and was murmuring the final words when—
BOOM.
A second explosion detonated, one that made its predecessor insignificant. It shook the building’s foundation and I staggered, flinging my arms above my head as the florescent light tubes shattered and went dark.
After the glass stopped falling, I kept moving. All I had to do was strand angry Leroy—straight ahead and to the left—and I’d reach the stairway.
Keeping my head down in case more glass fell, I placed each step precisely in front of the other in the straightest line I’d ever walked. I raised my arms to avoid smacking into the door, only to freeze when my fingertips brushed the wall.
My straight line had led to a corner.
Had I twisted to the right when I’d looked at the lights? Had I ducked to the left when the glass fell? I had no frame of reference in the dark.
I put my hands to the wall again. I was slightly to the right of the corner, which was as logical a basis for my decision as any. With my hand against the wall I walked to the right. Then I wiped my clammy hand a final time and groped at the doorframe until I found the keypad.
I pressed my finger to it once, then twice. A third time. Then I noticed the absence of the keypad’s red light and realized it wasn’t simply a matter of broken light fixtures. The electrical system had shorted out or lost power.
Before I had time to process my predicament, a mechanical rumbling came from beneath the floor, almost as if the house laughed at me. When red backup lights flickered to life from slits above the doorways, I decided Ian must own a generator and I held my breath, praying for the keypad to power up.
When the red dot appeared, my knees went weak with relief for the first time in my life—until I tried the keypad and the light flashed yellow at my denied entry attempt. I raced to the other doors and received the same results. The system had re-booted, either erasing the programming entirely or deleting my fingerprint.
I sank down as my knees gave out and only my hand stuffed in my mouth kept me from screaming. I’d been so close. One more door—was that too much to ask? I had to run. I needed to reach the truck.
Trapped in the dim red light, I began clawing at the walls on my hands and knees, well aware of how futile it was. Logically, I couldn’t make a dent but somehow I couldn’t stop. I had to run; I had to get out. I had to do as I’d been told and I had to do it right now!
That last thought was sufficiently aberrant to stop me for a moment.
I had to do as I’d been told? Hardly my usual style. I took a deep breath as I fought another surge of panic. I’d never been claustrophobic and I half groaned, half laughed as it hit me. I wasn’t merely running because I’d promised to. I was running because a powerful vampire had insistently told me to. With eye contact. Shit.
Ian had accidentally influenced me, leaving me captivated. No, not captivated, I uselessly self-corrected. After all, Ian wasn’t in my head and physically hurling me against the walls. I was—what’s the word—entranced. He’d put the idea in my brain and now my brain was insisting I run even with nowhere to go.
The realization helped. The urge to run was still there, but knowing it wasn’t my urge made it easier. I needed a distraction and took a rapid inventory of my limited assets. I had Nicky’s keys, which could damage a human, but a vampire? Not so much. I had my shoes, which wouldn’t hurt anyone but could possibly distract someone for long enough for… For what? For Ian and Keanu to ride to my rescue?
They wouldn’t abandon me, but what if they were too late? What if my injuries were beyond their combined healing powers? Would they end my suffering? Would one of them change me before letting me die?
Each thought was worse than the one preceding it. Clamping down on the urge to run, I focused on the sounds of the fight. The noises were less frequent now, but louder. Closer. It was only a matter of time.
I rose to my feet and braced for what would likely be a pathetic last stand, prepared to meet my own death. Or possibly eternal life. I didn’t know which would be worse—not that I’d have a choice—and maybe that was okay. My judgment had been nothing to brag about lately.
After another minute of similarly encouraging thoughts, the crashing and thumping resumed. The noises were now only a couple rooms away.
Despite knowing this, I all but jumped out of my skin when the smashing began on the wall across from me. When it came down to the moment, all logic went out the window and I ended up hurling both my shoes with surprising force and aim. Ian deflected the first with his arm and ducked in time for the second, which clocked an unsuspecting Keanu in the face.
My words were surprisingly blasé.
“Oh. It’s you.” I sagged to the floor and put my head between my knees. Then I felt an urge to bolt through the open door and lifted my head only enough to speak.
“Ian, I need you to come over and tell me to stop running, please.”
Even in the odd lighting, I saw Keanu’s appalled look. “You influenced her?”
“Not deliberately,” Ian murmured, barely sparing Keanu a glance. He knelt at my side and lifted my chin to achieve the necessary eye contact. “From whatsoever hold I may have, I release you. Please accept my apology, Aurora.”
The moment the words washed over me, two things happened. As expected, my crazed urge to run was gone. However, in an unexpected twist, I was suddenly flooded with worry for Nicky. A few things clicked and I laughed—in the not-good way.
“You told me not to worry about Nicky!”
My friends wore identical looks of concern and Keanu took a step back, presumably in case I threw up.
“Oh stop that, my stomach is fine.” I allowed Ian to help me up and I brushed myself off, checking to make sure I hadn’t dislodged an earring. (I hadn’t.) After a quick blur, Ian handed me my shoes and I put them back on.
“Aurora, what do you mean I told you not to worry?”
I shrugged. “Exactly what I said. Back in your office before dinner, you told me not to worry about Nicky, and for the entire evening I didn’t. The instant you ‘released’ me, all of those thoughts came back. In fact, you’ve influenced my mind three times, but no apology is necessary. The first time you did it saved my life.”
Ian looked worried and I sighed. “Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. I’m talking about Eggplant. She tried entrancement last night and I was able to scream because it didn’t work. Because of you.”
Ian and Keanu exchanged glances and Keanu decided it was safe to return to Ian’s side. “Rory, honey, that’s highly unlikely. It is possible for a more powerful vampire to supersede the influence of another, but Ian would know if he’d done it. It’s more likely you didn’t make proper eye contact with Eggplant.”
I shook my head. “Ian, think back to the night I learned to drive. You led me outside and we had a conversation about what to do in the event of more trouble. Do you remember?”
It took him a moment, but I saw his eyebrows jump as it hit him. “I do. I made you promise that if we ever had another intruder you would do as I say.”
I pointed at him for emphasis. “Precisely. In the event of an intruder I would listen to you, not Eggplant or anyone else. I’m only alive because you’re so damn bossy.” Then my legs gave out and I sat back down and laughed until I cried.
* * * * *
I didn’t remember exiting the house, but it was safe to assume someone had carried me. It took me a while to notice, but for the first time since my original visit I found myself outside in front of Ms. Parkes’ house.
Or rather, what remained of it. The stately brick residence had been reduced to rubble and I felt a brief sting of loss, though it wasn’t my house to mourn. Slightly dazed, I spoke the first words that popped into my head, breakin
g my vow to never mention Lillian Parkes aloud. “Holy shit, your girlfriend is gonna be mad.”
Ian was still in defensive mode, sniffing into the wind and circling the charred foundation, so it was Keanu who answered. “What are you talking about, Rory?”
I’d never heard him sound so exhausted.
I hadn’t helped slaughter a dozen vampires, but I was equally weary—partly from physical exhaustion and partly from my choice of conversation, which I already regretted.
“Ms. Parkes, human ambassador extraordinaire,” I said, fighting to keep the sarcasm at bay. (Okay, it was still a tad sarcastic, but I was trying.) Whoever she was to Ian, she hadn’t deserved to have her house blown to pieces. “I’m sure she owns other property, but she won’t be happy about this.”
Ian was finally convinced we were alone, returning on cue to respond to my observation. “That won’t be a problem, Aurora. There is no Lillian Parkes and never has been. I created her persona several years ago for convenience. She doesn’t exist.”
He looked over to Keanu. “It’s safe to go back inside now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
TEN minutes later, my brain was still sputtering. Granted, it had been given a lot to process. For one thing, the house was largely a disaster zone. Though the reinforced walls had kept Ian and Keanu’s rooms intact, the guest rooms and front entrance had been obliterated. I felt a surge of relief that the living room had already been emptied and a pang of sadness for the computer in the guest bedroom.
Since Ian and Keanu wouldn’t let me out of their mutual sight, I received a firsthand look at the remaining rubble. Fortunately, or as fortunate as things could get under these circumstances, debris covered most of the gore. I was briefly concerned about losing my ice cream, but either Eggplant had desensitized me or I was in shock.
I viewed the mess dispassionately before following the guys back to Ian’s office. Keanu’s cartoons still ran in the living room (something with a pig and a duck), but he flicked the program off without looking as we passed. I didn’t know what to say, but finally opted for, “Who were they? And what did they want?”
My vampire friends engaged in an enigmatic eyeball dance and I jumped to my feet. “Don’t you dare pull that unspoken conversation eye contact shit,” I threatened menacingly—and meaninglessly. Seriously, what could I possibly do, spank them?
“I deserve an explanation.”
Ian looked pained, but Keanu took my side. “She has a point Ian. We weren’t the only ones at risk tonight.”
About bloody time, I thought.
“Fine then,” Ian said quietly. “I’ll answer anything you’d like, starting with your first question. I don’t know who those vampires were, but it’s reasonable to assume they were acquaintances of Eggplant. I recognized a few scents.”
I thought that over. “So when Eggplant was first here, it wasn’t about Nicky or any other human. It was about you. What did they want?” I repeated.
Ian turned to Keanu, but I didn’t sense any secrets. It was more like Ian had issued an order, a notion Keanu confirmed when he left the office.
“As you already know, vampires from before the mass conversions are rare. Well, it’s not that we’re rare,” he corrected himself. “There have been vampires for thousands of years—ever since the time of the reluctant king. Still, the vast majority of vampires today were converted during the mass conversions.”
My ears perked up at what sounded like a vampire origination story, but Ian glossed right over it and forged ahead. “Post-conversion vampires, though much stronger than humans, are weak compared to pre-conversion vampires.”
“Most of them anyway,” Keanu countered as he re-entered the room. He was carrying a small wooden box that he handed to Ian.
Ian looked at the box thoughtfully before opening it. Then he took my hand and poured a small, shimmering stream of gemstones into it.
I pulled my hand back to bring the stones into the light. They ranged from pale pink to crimson so dark it was almost black. Mindlessly, I began sorting the gems by color. They were oddly heavy for their size.
Meanwhile, Ian nodded at Keanu. “Most are weak, but not by choice.”
“No one chooses to be weak,” I pointed out, placing a lighter crimson stone with its similarly colored fellows beside the scales on the desk.
“Exactly,” Ian said, stilling my hands as I debated where to place a particular garnet. He culled through a pink pile I’d made and extracted a stone. “This specimen,” he held it up as he lectured in a tone not unlike my own teaching voice, “was bled from a man—age twenty-eight at the time of conversion—approximately two months after conversion had occurred.”
It took me a moment, but then it sank in. “You mean?”
Keanu grinned and said, “Present!” as if answering roll call in class.
I reached over and took the stone from Ian, looking from the stone to Keanu and back again. “This is… yours? Your… blood?”
Keanu took the stone in his hand before tossing it and catching it. “Me in my earliest and weakest days—before I succumbed to the power of the dark side.”
Ian rolled his eyes and caught the stone effortlessly as Keanu flicked it back. “Feel free to ignore him—I often do. But yes, that stone was formed by Keanu’s blood back in his earliest days as a vampire.” He set the gem down and hovered over the piles, touching several additional stones before selecting one. “This is Keanu’s blood from last year.”
The second stone was much darker—a ruby red with a pink undertone. Picking up on the concept, I selected one of the darkest stones and held it up, raising an inquiring eyebrow in Ian’s direction. “Yours?”
Ian smiled. “Indeed it is. Bloodstones reflect our age and strength.”
I frowned. “I thought bloodstones were traditionally green mottled with red.”
“They are,” Ian agreed with a snort. “I have no idea how humans came up with that concept, but when a vampire refers to a bloodstone he’s talking about a crystallized drop of vampire blood. Such stones are very valuable to our kind.”
Quick as a wink, Keanu snatched the stone from between my thumb and forefinger, and shot it up with another mercurial flick. “Very valuable indeed,” he echoed with a grin as the stone arced through the air, glinting in the light.
At the last possible moment, Keanu took a neat step to the left and caught the stone in his mouth, chewing with a crunch that would have shattered my teeth. Then he gave what I can only describe as a happy shiver as he swallowed. “Valuable and delicious.”
Ian sighed and I put my hand to my jaw as if expecting to find my own teeth broken. “You mean you eat them?” I didn’t know whether to be horrified or fascinated. I mean, I knew vampires drank blood but this was like chewing rocks. It was chewing rocks.
Ian laughed at my appalled expression. “It’s not a common practice. It’s painful for a vampire to lose even a small amount of blood and few will do so willingly.”
I glanced at the pile of pink stones and then back at Keanu who simply shrugged. “Lessons learned.”
Alrighty then. Ouch.
“Also,” Ian said, apparently determined to ignore his vassal, “a pale stone has little impact. There isn’t much point. However, the benefits of consuming a dark bloodstone can be tremendous. Dark bloodstones can confer powers otherwise obtainable only over the course of centuries.”
“And they’re delicious!” Keanu pointed out again, determined to annoy Ian or die trying.
“You should know,” Ian said mildly. “You’ve had six in the past month alone.”
“Hey, those were medicinal,” Keanu objected. “The previous five were for sun sickness and I did take out eleven vamps tonight.”
I looked at Ian in dismay. “You made him take eleven out of twelve? What is this, vampire boot camp?”
Ian shot Keanu a dirty look. “Hardly. My valiant companion is neglecting to mention there were twenty-seven vampires in all. Still, he pulled his weight,” he c
oncluded somewhat grudgingly, the ghost of a proud smile hovering about his lips.
Keanu shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard once we triggered the explosion.”
“Wait, you two blew up your own house?” I was getting a headache. In an effort to relax, I rolled the bloodstones around in my hand.
“Not the first explosion, you were with us then,” Keanu said patiently. “Our guests did that to force a larger entry point. It was smart on their part—strength in numbers and all that,” he added with a touch of admiration. “The big explosion, of which I am extremely proud, was part of my security genius.”
I was too tired to move my facial muscles, but the irritation on Ian’s face was priceless. Sadly, Keanu was too blinded by his own brilliance to notice.
“The empty rooms? Everything was arranged that way for a reason,” he said eagerly. “You know the upper house?”
“The one you blew up?” I asked with a touch of sarcasm.
He nodded, oblivious. “The only rooms beneath the upper house were the guest rooms and a couple of the surrounding empty rooms. The entry rooms—the guest rooms in the front and the empty rooms in back—” he clarified proudly, “are the most vulnerable, so I rigged them with explosives.”
I think he expected me to burst into applause. Instead, I asked, “Why?”
Ian took over as Keanu sulked. “Stop pouting, it’s a legitimate question.” Ian continued his explanation while Keanu continued to shoot me disgruntled looks. “The idea behind the explosives was to trap intruders, which we did once all the vampires were inside. One or two burned, but most were buried by debris. That let us take them out one at a time.”
He shrugged like this was no big deal and I realized, for them, maybe it hadn’t been. Other than the odd spot of blood, Ian and Keanu looked nothing like the Eggplant scenario, which was a relief. They did, however, reek of smoke and plaster.
“Well, I appreciate you not setting off the rear explosives,” I said dryly. “However, that doesn’t answer why they broke in. Isn’t that extreme for a handful of stones they may or may not have known about?” I was still missing something.