Judas and the Vampires

by Aiden James

“I’m coming!” I called to him, trying to sound as unalarmed as possible.

  Garvan was nowhere to be found. The slight sway in the curtains wasn’t enough to prevent me from checking under the bed and in my closet. I began to feel weak and woozy. Feeling a wave of sudden nausea, I worried our dinner date was really going to suck!

  “I’ll be there in a minute…. I’m just getting my shoes on!” I said, more plaintive after Peter’s second knock, the loudness revealing his irritation. But I had to look. I needed to see what caused the pain and my blood to drip down my neck.

  I stumbled over to the mirror Tyreen and I share. Two small streams trickled down the left side of my neck, threatening to spill onto my dress. Luckily, the black wool would keep it from being immediately noticeable—even to Peter’s keen eyes. But what happened when I wiped a Kleenex over the twin wounds astonished me even more.

  There were no punctures in the skin. No seepage, just fiery redness. The redness was brightest above a pair of birthmarks. ‘Little pink teardrops’ is what my Grandmother often called them. Like the tears tattooed beneath the eyes of the gang leaders in Richmond’s low-rent district, though not as dark in color. Now they were inflamed, tender to the touch.

  But still no blood.

  I looked back at the deep crimson streaks in the tissue I held, trying to make sense of what just happened. Meanwhile, Peter’s urgent knocks grew faint….distant. Then, the world around me went black.

  Chapter 3

  I’m not sure how long I was out. When I gradually came to, I heard Peter’s voice…getting gradually louder.

  “Txema…Txema? Shit, I think she’s waking up.”

  His image was hazy, but I could tell he was looking at Tyreen and her boyfriend, Johnny, as he said this. He sounded shaken, and the concern in his voice touched me…pulling me out of a dark cold place I’d fallen into. I’m not sure that I landed anywhere, just that I was immersed in a sea of thick blackness. At one point, I felt constricted and unable to move. Held fast in close confines, it felt as if a coffin that was too small for my build.

  I remembered then the whispered voices that were talking back and forth. It was too difficult to understand the words, although the accent and cadence sounded French…and maybe a little Spanish. There were several of these voices, and most of them were male. As they spoke, the constriction lifted. Drifting on my back, softness now caressed me, as if I lay upon a lush feather bed. The voices echoed upon one another, soon joined by others that sounded alarmed. A cold grimy hand seized my throat, and that’s when I began to awaken, just before Peter spoke.

  “Where am I?” I uttered weakly, trying to raise my head. Somehow I had moved from the floor near our vanity mirror to Tyreen’s bunk bed, directly below mine. Someone had moved me…maybe Peter? But I did black out, so possibly I stumbled there myself.

  “You’re in our room, baby,” said Tyreen, gently. As soon as she spoke, my vision cleared. Her bright green eyes were aglow, perhaps from worry. It made me fear for what I looked like, and I suddenly remembered the miniature crimson rivers trickling down my neck. “It’s okay…it’s okay…Shush-h-h!” She blocked my hand from touching my neck.

  “Babe, you’re going to be just fine,” added Peter.

  Tyreen deferred to his invasion into my personal space. If not for my disorientation, I wouldn’t have minded his closeness. He was dressed in his favorite tailored suit, and mine too, since it accentuated his powerful upper body. Traditional dark blue, with a burgundy tie. “Just relax, and lay back…. That’s it. Good girl.”

  Normally, I would bristle at that last remark. But, feeling as I did, I gave in and allowed him to baby me.

  “What happened?”

  My question was directed more to my roommate than my boyfriend, who was pulling a blanket up over my arms.

  “Peter found you lying on the floor, by the mirror. When you wouldn’t wake up, he called me on my cell phone,” she said, glancing over at Johnny, who nodded to confirm this.

  “Well, that’s not exactly how it went down, but pretty close,” Peter said, ignoring the sharp look Tyreen shot him. “After you said you were coming to the door, I waited. Then I heard something fall over in your room, and I thought you might’ve tripped on something. Maybe it was a chair or a table. Hell, it could’ve been the shoes you couldn’t find, for all I knew.”

  Honestly, this is one of the things I don’t care for about him…this need of his to over-analyze and over-explain. It can make him seem like an overbearing prick. I think if he’d pay more attention to the reactions of those around him more, he’d figure out when to shut up. Perhaps more of the qualities I do so love about Peter would shine through. More about that later.

  “What time is it, anyway?”

  “Seven-twenty,” said Johnny, his tone devoid of the compassion of his girl, and even more prick-ish than my guy. But at least he had the good sense to defer quickly once Tyreen glared at him, perturbed. No doubt when Peter called her, it ended up interrupting something going on. Something intimate, would be my guess. Both he and Tyreen were dressed in sweats and matching UT sweatshirts that were disheveled, and not what either had on an hour earlier when I last saw them. Besides, they both had that ‘FF’ look in their eyes.

  “You were out for at least an hour,” Tyreen added, still worried. She smiled compassionately at me.

  I’ve rarely seen a smile that can light up a room like hers. Really, when both she and her man turn it on, they look like frigging movie stars. With her big green eyes, long braids, and soft ebony complexion, she could be Beyonce’s younger sister. She possesses the same husky voice and vivacious curves. Johnny’s chiseled face and ripped physique make him look like any of the young stud rappers these days—especially when he gets a serious look in his soft gray eyes. He’s got a great sense of humor, too…just not so much that night.

  “An hour spent squirming around for the most part,” said Peter, again with this obsessive need to clarify the specifics of what happened. This time, though, I detected sincere worry and compassion in his voice. “I was ready to call the paramedics, but Tyreen stopped me. It looks like she was right, because you did come out of whatever this thing is.”

  Hmmm …to hear him talk like this. I’m referring to his tone, and not the actual words. I tuned out most of the message. I’ve seen other girls nearly swoon over his chiseled looks and charming smile, but I must confess it’s the sexiness in his voice that gets me. There’s a warmth and assurance there, when he finds the right thing to say and doesn’t obsess so much.

  “You seem a lot better now,” Tyreen added. “So as long as you take it easy tonight and rest up, you should be fine.”

  “What about our date?” The disappointment in my voice was readily apparent, I’m sure. “It’s not too late to make it to the restaurant before they stop serving!”

  “It might be pushing it, don’t you think?” said Peter, his tone more compassionate.

  Little Pepino’s stayed open until eleven each night, and I knew firsthand that the kitchen remained available for patrons until midnight. Best Italian food in Knoxville…or so the staff will tell you. I didn’t wait for him to go on about how this was a bad idea, and sat up. But, the room started swimming around me again.

  “See? I told ya’ll she can’t go anywhere tonight,” said Peter to Johnny and Tyreen. “It’s best if she stays here.”

  He sounded like my mysterious visitor, only worse.

  “Well, I know you two had planned a special night on the town,” said Tyreen, wearing her pained expression again while she nodded, as if she could picture the swirling drain my birthday celebration was being sucked down into. “We could get you two something to eat and bring it here—how about that? It might not be Little Pepino’s, but you could do a lot worse than Olive Garden. The birthday cake the girls and I brought here earlier should keep for a few days.”

  “How about a couple of pizzas and a six pack of Killian’s for us all?” Peter suggested. He looked over at me
after nodding to Johnny, as if my preference for the evening’s revised agenda was an afterthought. He blushed once he saw my disdainful expression, thrusting his hands into his pants pockets while nervously straightening his back with an ‘oh shit!’ look on his face.

  “Actually, I’d prefer a box of truffles and a big bottle of chardonnay,” I replied, offering a grimace that would’ve been a wry smile if not for the steady throb inside my head. I mean, can a chocolate rush and wine cure an oncoming migraine? Maybe that was a little ridiculous, but at this point, nothing sounded good…nothing but a long night of restful sleep. And just an hour ago I felt totally jazzed to go out and celebrate the final phase of my teenager status.

  It made me wonder even more about my earlier visitor…. Him showing up that night, on the birthday that announced the final stanza of my adolescence, definitely marked the event to where I’d likely never forget. I shuddered at the thought it might’ve been this pasty stranger’s intent in the first place.

  “Hey, sweetie…Johnny and I should go so you two can decide how you want to spend tonight,” offered Tyreen, exchanging looks with Johnny before moving up to kiss my forehead. “If you need anything, call me. I don’t care how late it is. I’ll leave his broke ass and be here in a minute, or go out and get anything you need.” She chuckled, amused at her own joke while Johnny scowled.

  “All right…sorry for the trouble,” I told her, smiling weakly. “Peter and I should be okay, once we figure out dinner.”

  “I’ll call you guys if her condition worsens,” Peter added, moving to the door.

  Tyreen and Johnny followed him. After a hug from her and a brother handshake from Johnny, he closed the door behind them.

  ***

  Peter stayed with me all night. Despite my early protests that I could handle things on my own just fine, I was actually glad he didn’t leave.

  He ordered a pizza for us after I declined his proposal to order Chinese…I just didn’t think my stomach could handle fried pork or anything like it. As if the pizza wouldn’t wreak havoc on my system either! But, it was good, and I started to feel better. Not enough to go dancing as originally planned, but ready to enjoy a night of backgammon, DVDs, and snuggling with him.

  I did, however, sneak a peek in the mirror at my neck around ten o’clock. Not only was there still no sign of the puncture wounds that drew my blood earlier, the redness around my birthmark had faded noticeably. And, there was no tenderness.

  Peter tried to sing happy birthday to me after dinner. At least there were no dogs or cats present to chime in, or it might’ve been a really awful serenade. Still, his vulnerability made him so adorable. It rose up the ante in regard to the push-pull tug on my heart.

  Sometimes, I thought about the tense excitement between us when we first started dating, hoping to hang onto that feeling. Such incredible intoxication! The beginnings of love, that tender bud of burning desire which nearly drove me mad at times, even though I suspected the feeling was always a little stronger with him than with me.

  But that night it was almost impossible to think of any romance with him, or reflect upon our best intimacies since September. Instead, I found my thoughts drawn repeatedly back to tonight’s pale intruder…Garvan. Garvan, the magician…or, better yet, the messenger of doom. Maybe he’s just some guy who happens to portray a dashingly handsome vampire.

  A vampire?

  Such nonsense! But, for some reason, that thought made him seem more real. Worse was the fact that this single thought lifted my heart for him, this stranger, while pulling a little bit more from my current beau. Not even my mysterious illness and the dried blood absorbed by a handful of Kleenex tissues in my wastebasket could dampen Garvan’s allure. Nor did his inhuman ability to appear and disappear in an instant change my attraction to him. If nothing else, I desired to find out who and what he truly was.

  What stayed most with me that night was not the wound to my neck, or our brief conversation. It was his eyes. They were so unusual in their fiery luminance, as if fueled by some unfathomable ocean of feeling. Magnetic, dangerous, and very hard to get out of my mind.

  But, all of this engendered other questions as well…much more worrisome. If, per chance, he were a vampire, what would he want with me, a warm-blooded human being? Other than to suck my body blood-dry I couldn’t think of a good reason. And, again, why would Garvan show up the evening of my nineteenth birthday? Was that merely a coincidence born out of his stated concern for my welfare?

  None of it made sense. At least, not yet. There was so much more to this puzzle that I had just begun to get pieces for.

  I shuddered again as I thought about it all, and the swirling questions stayed with me long after Peter and I said goodnight. He slept in my top bunk while I took Tyreen’s bed below. Soon after midnight I heard him snore. How I longed for that same sweet solace, especially once the whispered voices returned. I couldn’t help but listen, straining my eyes to discern elusive movement in the shadows outside my window. Until finally, I lost the battle to stay awake.

  Chapter 4

  It’s funny how things seem so different in the full light of day. When I awoke the next morning, the girls on my floor were already moving back and forth from the showers to their rooms. Any male company had quietly departed, except for my guy. Peter reluctantly left once I shooed him out after demonstrating I was all right. I assured him that whatever illness I suffered from the night before had left me completely. Surely, the frantic scamper around my dorm room to gather my shampoo, soap, and toothpaste helped sell the notion I was fine.

  Tyreen had just returned to our room when I finished my shower. Already dressed in jeans and her favorite beige pullover, she apparently was waiting on my butt to get ready, so we could eat breakfast together. As she had the night before, she looked upset. She tapped her right foot nervously, while sitting on the edge of her bunk bed.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” I told her, while moving over to my dresser to put my lotion away and grab my makeup bag. “I haven’t had a chance to make your bed yet, but I promise to do it right after I dry my hair.” I grabbed my hairdryer and brought it over to the vanity’s mirror.

  “It’s okay, honest…really it can wait until later,” she assured me. The look of worry remained. “You seem a lot better. Are you feeling as good as you look?”

  Right then I resembled a drenched river-rat with my hair dripping upon my shoulders. Her wan smile told me this wasn’t a joke at my expense. Tyreen has often stated her envy of how my hair holds just enough natural curl to where I don’t need to dry it fully.

  “I’m feeling much better,” I said, offering a bright smile. Maybe even a little exaggerated, since her foot had begun tapping again. I worked diligently to put my makeup on. “So, did you and Johnny have some fun after you left last night?”

  “We did…although I guess he didn’t care much for my little joke about leaving his ass behind if you needed me,” she said, winking and chuckling for a moment. Then she grew serious. “Did you hear about the murder that took place on the north side of campus last night?”

  “What?!”

  I was in the process of securing my earrings when I whipped my head around to face her.

  “When did it happen?” I scarcely believed what I heard. “Was it someone we know?”

  “No, but it was a student,” she confirmed, and then sighed, deeply. “The victim lived off campus, in one of the apartment buildings off 21st Street.”

  Not that Knoxville is a crime-free city—far from it. However, the last murder involving UT students took place a couple of years ago, so this news came as a shock.

  “It was a girl,” Tyreen continued, her eyes misty. “They showed her picture on the news earlier this morning, when Johnny wanted to see how the Cavs did last night…. She looks just like you!”

  She started to weep. I may not be as softhearted as her, but I do have compassion for others, and for her especially. I rushed over and threw my arms around her. She bawled on my
shoulder while I held her tight.

  “Damn it, I really thought something bad had happened to you—that you somehow bullheaded your way into making Peter take you out after all!” said Tyreen between sobs. “It wasn’t until Johnny told me the name—some other weird name like yours, but different—that I started to settle down. I thought I was going to have a heart attack—really, I did!”

  I didn’t know how to respond to this, or even if I could. When I opened my mouth to say something, my throat constricted. All I thought of was Garvan’s warning. Someone waited outside—somewhere on campus, and intended to take my life. Could this killing be related, especially if the victim looked a lot like me?

  When I awoke that morning, to warm sunlight pouring into our dorm room, my first thought was the previous night’s craziness was largely in my head. Garvan was just some handsome weirdo who happened to sneak into my room—maybe while Tyreen and I were in class across campus. I felt incredibly foolish for assuming something as crazy as a vampire had visited me. Maybe I had tripped over my shoes and hit my neck somehow. It really bummed me out that my birthday celebration plans got botched like that.

  Now I wasn’t so sure what happened. I had to deal with the reality that Garvan might be more than what I passed him off as. Regardless of anything else, I had to accept the reality that he might’ve saved my life.

  “Well…are you going to say something or just let me carry on like this by myself?” said Tyreen, when all I could do was shake my head. “It really could’ve been you, you know!”

  “When did the murder take place?” There, I said something.

  “Johnny said the police aren’t sure of an exact time. I’m sure it happened after we came to check on you,” she said, pausing to take a deep breath. She was regaining her composure.

  “Did the police say how it happened?”

  Tyreen shook her head, and patted me on the shoulder, letting me know she was ready to get up.