Broken Heart Town 2 - Don't Talk Back to Your Vampire

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by Michele Bardsley


  I found myself peeling off my pajamas. As vile as it was to touch Nefertiti, I grasped her hand. It felt squishy and cold. In an instant, my own body turned clear. I felt like a walking blob of Jell-O as we stepped through the cell door. Passing through a solid object hit number one on my Top Ten Weird Vampire Talents. It felt like being squeezed through a strainer.

  When we arrived in the hallway, we solidified. Nefertiti let go of my hand.

  "I need clothes," I said.

  "Why?"

  "Because I can't put on a cat suit and slink around like you do."

  She led me to the entrance to the prison. On the left side of the door was a row of pegs. Each held a long white lab coat. I was getting seriously tired of the color white. "Beggars can't be choosers," I muttered as I took one and slipped it on. I buttoned it to my chin.

  "You have two minutes to convince the lycan to come with us, Eva." Her eyes reminded me of obsidian. I think it riled her to know that she couldn't control me. "Do not betray me."

  If I had been a tough heroine in a blockbuster movie, maybe Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider, I might have snapped off "Or what?" But as Eva the animal-loving librarian, my response was… nothing.

  The floor was as white and smooth as the walls. My bare feet slapped against the slick surface as I walked to the end of the hall to Faustus's cell.

  Faustus waited for us. His gaze flicked to my ankles; he growled menacingly. I looked down and saw Nefertiti, now in the cat form of Lucifer, giving herself a bath. Yuck.

  I don't like her, either. But she can free you.

  Faustus raised his head to stare at me. You cannot trust her. She never agrees to any pact unless she gains something from it.

  You wanted to get out, remember? She says that your friends have rebelled and they've stolen my daughter.

  She lies.

  Does she lie about you?

  His black lips pulled back and he bared his teeth. I was getting better at mind reading. I had seen an image flash into his mind, but that instant gave me all the information I needed.

  Revenge is a terrible thing, isn't it? You killed her, so she Turned you.

  Laughter filtered into my mind. Ah, so she fed you that bullshit story about the Roman soldier who raped and killed her. I never raped her. I loved her.

  But you killed her?

  Crime passionnel. She was fucking half the Roman army. She made a fool of me! Nefertiti craves power and wealth, just like her bitch queen. At least Cleopatra did what she did for Egypt. There is honor in sacrifice for your people, for your country. Nefertiti serves only herself.

  His gaze once again flicked to Nefertiti. She had wandered away to look into the cell next to Faustus's. I had never known anyone as cold-hearted as she.

  I will stay here, Eva. I would rather my enemy's sword pierce my heart than my friend's dagger stab me in the back.

  I was disappointed by his decision, but it was his to make. Take care, Faustus.

  Fac fortia et patere. He put his palm against the barrier. I put mine against it, too, and matched where his palm pressed. Do brave deeds and endure.

  Chapter 24

  I shed my clothing again so we could liquefy and go through the thick metal door that led out of the prison ward. I found another lab coat draped over a chair and slipped it on.

  No one was in the laboratory, not even Stan, who practically lived down here. Uneasiness prickled my scalp. I followed Nefertiti up the stairs. The security door was wide open.

  "Where is everyone?"

  "Gone."

  So Nefertiti wasn't so much clever as opportunistic. I really did not like her.

  The house was dark and had the feel of hurried abandonment. In the foyer, I could see through to the formal living room. Furniture was knocked over, cushions ripped, glass shattered.

  "What happened?"

  "I told you," said Nefertiti. "The beasts rebelled. They attacked your friends and took your daughter."

  Lorcan, Jessica, and everyone else must be dealing with the fallout. Had the mutant lycans or the Wraiths attacked? And was Tamara safe—or not?

  "Take me to my daughter."

  "Or you'll do what?" asked Nefertiti. "You're a librarian, for the love of Isis."

  Her smirk grated on my last nerve. Before I could second-guess my actions, I grabbed her chin and stared into her soulless eyes. I seized her mind and demanded, "Take me to Tamara."

  "Yes," said Nefertiti immediately. "I will do as you ask."

  I released her chin. To make sure I was in control, I pointed to the curtains that framed the windows on either side of the front door. "Wrap one of those around yourself."

  Nefertiti yanked off the pretty gold fabric and created a toga for herself. She looked at me, her eyes glazed.

  "Very good. Now take me to Tamara."

  We left the house and walked down the curved driveway. The bushes that lined the drive shook, and then Bert bounded out of the shrubbery, barking joyously.

  Nefertiti nearly shot out of her skin. She reared back and hissed. Bert paid no attention to her reaction. Instead he danced around me and barked some more.

  Then he poked his cold, wet nose into my crotch. Oh, yuck. I gently pushed him away. "Whoa, there. I've told you this before, sweetheart. We're just friends."

  He sat down and panted. I heard his thought: Ham bone.

  "Later, Bert." I looked at Nefertiti and pointed to the Great Dane. It was wrong to give in to the childish urge, but I couldn't resist. "Pet the nice doggie."

  She walked forward as if pulled by puppet strings. Her palm flattened stiffly against Bert's head. He growled and shook her off, backing out of her reach.

  "You have good taste," I said to the dog. I looked at Nefertiti. "Let's go get Tamara."

  We walked for a long time, down streets, through weed-choked yards, and around the broken and battered grounds of Putt 'Er There, the old mini-golf course. We didn't meet a single soul on our travels. Had everyone been drawn to the other side of town? I wondered what kind of catastrophe could rally every citizen. Then another thought struck: What if everyone had evacuated to the Consortium compound? What if they'd left me and Faustus to our fates? I couldn't believe that.

  We followed the curve of a gravel road to a single, dilapidated house. It had been abandoned long before the vampires took over Broken Heart and started encouraging the humans to leave. Tucked into the embrace of tall trees and surrounded by scraggly hedges, it looked like the house that kids always dared each other to go into on Halloween night.

  The flaking paint was so old that the color had faded to gray. Both of the front windows were broken and jagged glass glittered in the bright moonlight. The porch had collapsed and the front steps were missing, but that didn't stop Bert from leaping onto the rickety wood and sniffing around.

  "Tamara is in there?"

  Nefertiti nodded. I wondered if she was lying. Had she faked being glamoured by me to get me here? I looked at the creepy place, my nerves stringing tight. Why hadn't I thought about the possibility that Nefertiti might very well be leading me away from my daughter and into a trap? Doofus giganticus.

  Bert started to bark furiously.

  "Bert! Get down here!"

  He obeyed me, skittering to a stop in front of me before wheeling around and engaging in another bark fest. The door swung inward and the shadowy form of a lycan hovered in the darkness of the house.

  I'm Eva LeRoy. Where's my daughter?

  The creature growled menacingly. Its snout emerged from the doorway, followed by its big, furry face. The rest of its body remained in shadow.

  My heart leapt into my chest as fear pumped through me. I had no experience with kicking ass. If that thing attacked, Bert and I were lycan chow.

  "Now, now. There's no reason to be rude." A tall, thin man emerged from the doorway. His legs were so long he crossed the porch in two strides and leapt over the broken stairs. His eyes sparkled. His brown hair was pulled back into a queue. He wore white from head to toe�
�a short-sleeved shirt, white dress pants, and shiny white shoes. His face was gaunt, his chin pointy. He looked like a too tall elf. Gold hoops, two each, sparkled from both ears. His thin lips were pulled into a smile, but it wasn't friendly. He looked at Bert for a second too long.

  The Great Dane stopped barking and whined instead. He ducked his massive head and scurried behind me. His reaction freaked me out. Animals were very intuitive. If he felt scared of this man, I should probably be terrified.

  "Where's my daughter?" I demanded. My experiences with Faustus and Nefertiti had taught me that I had power. A lot of power. I knew I had barely tapped into it, but I was willing to risk that my intuition was correct if it meant saving my daughter.

  "She is alive and well." A Russian accent tinged his words. He looked at Nefertiti. "Though Nefertiti is an excellent prevaricator, she tries harder when she thinks she's double-crossing someone."

  "She lied about the beasts kidnapping Tamara," I accused. "She would've brought me here no matter what."

  Nefertiti sure was consistent in her evil. I wanted to make her go pet the nasty lycan staring at me from the busted doorway. I searched the house. The front windows were completely dark. Other than the lycan, there were no signs of life.

  "I want to see Tamara."

  "In due time." He studied me. "I didn't account for your abilities. Your powers are very strong." I half expected him to end the sentence with "young Jedi," because he was seriously putting on an Obi-Wan Kenobi act. Instead, I muttered, "Hooray for me."

  His eyes flashed with humor. "It doesn't matter how you got here, only that you did." He looked at Nefertiti and shook his head. "She will not be happy to know that you are capable of controlling her." He snapped his fingers and Nefertiti blinked.

  "What's going on?" she asked, plucking at the gold curtain. It didn't take her long to figure it out. "You!" She rounded on me, her eyes going flat with cold anger. "Never glamour me again, you Turn-blood bitch."

  "Threaten me again," I said softly, "and I'll make sure you walk off a cliff." A short one, so that the fall would only hurt her. I didn't value her life all that much, but I liked Johnny and I didn't want to endanger him.

  She lunged, hands aimed at my throat. The man grabbed her shoulder. "Calm yourself, Nefertiti. You have been bested. Deal with it."

  Her hands flopped to her sides, but her fists clenched as if she might risk punching me. If looks could stake, I'd be one dead vampire.

  "Return to your feline form and go to your post."

  Nefertiti dropped her makeshift toga, grasped her ankh, and said the spell that turned her into Lucifer. She sauntered by me, tail whipping, and raked my ankle with her claws.

  "Ow!" I tried to kick her, but she took off at a full run. I bent down to look at the wound. Red dotted my skin, but it was already healing from the strike. "She's meaner than Naomi Campbell."

  He chuckled. "It seems your dog has abandoned you."

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Bert loping away, toward the direction we'd walked from. I was glad he was getting out of danger, but I felt less brave without him.

  "Shall we go inside?"

  "I'd rather see my daughter." Fear that I had kept at bay now skittered up my spine.

  "Let's have a chat first. You should probably know that I've launched a little attack on Broken Heart. Everyone will be quite busy for a while." He extended his arm in the direction of the house, as if he were a host instead of a lying kidnapper.

  "You managed to regain control of your rebellion?" I asked. "Or there was no rebellion at all?"

  "I have the same gifts you do, Eva. What do you think?"

  The same gifts as me? I stared at the house. I did not want to go through that door. "I suppose I have no choice."

  "That's not true. You can choose to walk with me into my humble abode or you can choose for me to carry you in there."

  "I'll walk." I fell into step next to him. I couldn't begin to describe how nervous I felt. No, "nervous" wasn't the right word. I was scaling the heights to terror-stricken. "Do you have a name or should I just call you panjandrum?"

  "That's very unkind," he responded. Humor laced his tone. "I am neither pompous nor pretentious. However, better a panjandrum, my dear, than a gobemouche like yourself."

  "I am not gullible," I protested weakly. I couldn't help but be impressed with his knowledge of weird vocabulary. If he wasn't a bad guy, we might've had a grand time outwording each other. He helped me over the stairs and the porch, then led me past the guard at the door. Whew. The beast smelled like rotting cabbage.

  After creaking down the hallway with its cracked linoleum and peeling wallpaper, we entered a sumptuous room with bright colors and comfy furniture. It was luxury at its finest.

  "You didn't answer my question," I said as we settled onto a fluffy blue couch. "Who are you?"

  "Please forgive me," he said, his eyes glowing red for a split second. "My name is Koschei."

  Chapter 25

  "You're an Ancient? You're my—" Vampire father? Family chieftain? Evil leader? "Does the council know you're a bad guy?"

  "Bad guy?" He laughed heartily. "The council rules its children, not its members. We make the laws. You follow them. Ah, Eva. You really are a gobemouche. Good and evil are a matter of perspective."

  "I thought it more a matter of intent."

  "Hmm. What shapes the intention of the act? A thief who steals bread to feed his hungry son is a good man doing a bad thing. A thief who steals bread to make a profit for himself is a bad man doing a bad thing." He waved his hand in dismissal and I saw the length of his fingernails. Who would keep their nails that shiny and sharp if not to use them as weapons?

  I turned my attention back to the conversation. He hadn't gone through all the trouble to get me here just so we could have a discussion about ethics.

  "So you believe it is not the act but the intention that determines what is good and what is evil?" he asked.

  "I think good and evil are straightforward. And usually the people who tout shades-of-gray moral philosophy are trying to justify their own actions. Their evil actions."

  "Or perhaps people who tout black-and-white moral philosophy have yet to commit an act that is considered evil but comes from good intent."

  I sank lower into the couch. My lab coat felt very thin. One wrong cross of the legs and I would reveal just how naked I was under it. I felt vulnerable and uncertain. I couldn't quite believe I was sitting across from the creator of my Family. Had Koschei been a good man when Ruadan Turned him? Had he turned evil—or had he hidden it?

  "What do you want from me?" I asked. My voice trembled. I cleared my throat.

  "Not what you think, lycan whisperer." He grinned at his joke. He tapped his long nail against his chin. "I find it fascinating that you experience telepathy with humans who can take animal forms, but my little experiments haven't rebelled. Another red herring, I'm afraid."

  Stan had said the Wraiths were cloning blood and mutating it even more. I was reminded of Damian's story about rounding up his brethren to create a perfect army. Was Koschei trying to do the same thing with vampires?

  "You've been cured of the taint, Eva—or haven't you noticed?"

  I had noticed that I felt normal. The lethargy and confusion that had plagued me ceaselessly two days ago had disappeared. "Cured? That's impossible. There is no…" My voice trailed off. There was a cure. The one that had worked for Lorcan. Had I been transfused with royal lycan blood, too? You'd think that would be something I would remember—if not doing, at least agreeing to do.

  Koschei's amber eyes snared mine. I couldn't look away. I felt as though I was falling into that gaze until I was surrounded by jade, floating in it as though it were an ocean. I felt buoyed and safe.

  "I command you to remember," said Koschei in a familiar voice that was so soothing, so compelling. "Remember all that you have done."

  Memories flashed. Lorcan loves me, begs for death. The images flip forward. Lorcan and I m
ake love. I tear out his throat, drink his blood.

  Oh, my God.

  "It's not true," I whispered. "I would never do that." But I knew that I had. No wonder Lorcan had imprisoned me. I had tried to kill him.

  "Those who suffer from the taint lose their ability to differentiate between reality and fantasy. I found it easy to get inside your mind and make you see what I wanted." He grinned. "You've done an evil act, Eva. Oh, don't be so horrified. Think about how you have a comparison for our opposing viewpoints."

  "I was coerced."

  "Interesting, that. You coerced Nefertiti to get what you wanted."

  I resisted the urge to defend myself. I wasn't a bad person. I did what I had to do. He was confusing the issue, trying to make me think I was like him.

  "Why would you want me to hurt Lorcan?"

  "I didn't want you to hurt him. I wanted you to rip out his throat." He leaned back and crossed his legs. "But something interesting happened. His blood cured you of the taint."

  Hope wound through me. Did Lorcan hold the key to a real cure? Koschei could say whatever he liked. I wouldn't believe I was healthy until Stan himself gave me the news. Just like I wouldn't believe Tamara was okay until I saw her with my own two eyes.

  "Lorcan's holding the key for the taint would've been a problem if not for you. Now I can kill him and keep you."

  Koschei was not just evil—he was insane.

  "You can't be sure my blood will cure the taint. Lorcan may be the direct source."

  "We can do tests on him while we torture him to death. Two birds with one stone."

  My terror was overwhelming. I didn't trust that my thoughts were my own. Koschei was powerful; he might be able to monitor my attempts to connect to Damian. I wouldn't call Lorcan—he would try to rescue me and be killed for his efforts.

  "Of course, we will do the necessary tests on you first." He rose suddenly and held out his hand to me. "Come, Eva."

  I didn't want to get up. I didn't want to obey him. But I found myself rising and taking his hand. My entire body tingled, then pop! We were standing in a dimly lit and dank basement. I could sense that there were things in the room—boxes stacked against walls, tables just outside the rim of light from the single bulb. We walked through this part to another section, which was brightly lit.

 

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