The Canvas Thief

by P. Kirby

  Maya couldn’t remember ever seeing a vampire, however, who gave off such an intense aura of things preternatural. Power—like Adam’s, but different—rolled off him in huge waves. Where Adam’s power carried a kind of heat, the vampire’s was cool and filled with an impassive, reptilian cunning. Mesmer. The term came to her as this new wave of power slipped through her skin, crackling as it came in contact with Adam’s. Inside her, it felt like winter was rushing throughout, leaving a hard crust, sealing in Adam’s Mesmer compulsion like ice on a lake.

  Adam’s influence started to drop away from her brain and she felt bare, lost without the heinous purpose that had driven her for two days. For an instant there was nothing except the sensation of being immersed in the vampire’s mind. Caught in a consciousness that had existed for thousands of years, her mind reeled, human brain unable to comprehend an immortal lifespan. The last free bit of Adam’s Mesmer power hissed, frozen by the vampire’s, and then her connection to the vampire snapped away.

  “You’re old.” Maya said the first thing that came to her mind. “Very old.”

  “And you’ve got crazy hair,” he said. “You look like a brown troll doll dressed in ugly pink pajamas.”

  Wide-eyed, Maya blinked, stupefied by his comment and the magic in her brain.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with no trace of remorse. “I thought we were trading insults.” He smirked and Maya felt a mild horror as the tingle of attraction stirred in her. Well, it was no wonder he provoked that reaction. Maya studied the lines of his face, wondering if there was a rule that all vampires had to be handsome. This one had good looks to spare.

  Backlit by the streetlight, his lean, muscular silhouette suggested someone who would have looked right at home at the gym. Though a blond, his face possessed a softness that made Maya think of a fair-haired Spaniard. Eye color was impossible to discern in the poor lighting, but the shape and set of his eyes gave him an expression of perpetual scorn. Although if he’d lose the smirk, it might be interpreted as sadness.

  The smirk grew and he said, “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He flooded the question with a rush of power that stole her breath.

  “I, oh—” Instinctive good manners untangled her tongue. “Would you like to…?”

  “You’re really going to invite a vampire into your house?” He grinned, teeth gleaming, but no fangs. “Long on looks, short on brains.”

  The vampire’s power had thrust aside Adam’s spell, but she could still feel tendrils of longing for her studio, and beneath that, the irritation of being toyed with by the vampire. “You don’t have fangs,” she said, because a more intelligent reply escaped her.

  “Fangs are cheap theatrics.” Lifting his left arm, he turned his wrist in the light, looking at his watch. With his right hand, he activated the watch’s light, his long, elegant fingers reminding her of…someone she wasn’t supposed to think about. “Since our banter is a world away from clever, let’s say we just move on and get this over with?”

  “Get what over with?” Her heart started to pound in her ears as her body finally recognized the danger of the predator on her doorstep and adrenaline started to surge.

  “Clearing Adam out of your head.” The air couldn’t have left her lungs faster if he had punched her in the stomach. Beneath the icy seal of the vampire’s power, Adam’s beat frantic fists. She started to take a step back and the vampire gave a tiny shake of his head. “Stay.”

  “I’m not a dog,” she said, pleased to find a patch of resistance within herself, although it may have been fueled by Adam’s spell.

  “No, you’re not. A dog wouldn’t be caught dead in those pajamas.” The vampire stepped forward and stopped as close to the door as possible without crossing the threshold and entering her home. Still standing in the doorway, Maya stared at his chest, less than an arm’s length away. She craned her neck back and met his icy stare.

  “Dark gray, like a chalkboard.” Where had she seen eyes like that? “Elf eyes. The irises are all one solid color, no gradations in color like human eyes.”

  “Are you normally this dim, or is it the spell talking?” He glanced at his watch again. “Do you want your brain back or not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He leaned his right forearm along the outside of the door frame and tilted his head toward her, stopping just inches from her face. The smirk faded, leaving him expressionless. Just like Adam’s, the vampire’s Mesmer power possessed an effortless charm. A tremor ran through her, the result of nerves torn between launching herself into his arms and running away, retreating to the safety of her studio.

  “I want you to imagine Adam Sayres,” he said. “Remember what it feels like to be around him.”

  “Overwhelming,” said Maya.

  He didn’t quite roll his eyes, instead raising his focus from her eyes to a little above her head, but the effect was the same. “You’re too easily impressed. Without the Mesmer power and immortality, Sayres has less charisma than a department store mannequin.”

  Maya nodded slowly. “I know.” The vampire’s words made sense, the first thing that did in nearly two days. Still muddled, Maya’s thoughts were free of the obsessive tug of Adam’s imperative, although she could sense it skulking under the vampire’s power, nudging and poking, searching for weakness. “Your magic is stronger than his.”

  “Of course it is. Adam’s a human or a poor facsimile.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Focus. I want you to imagine Adam is standing before you. Remember what it felt like when he pushed his power at you.”

  “Confusing.”

  “And?”

  “Suffocating.”

  “And?”

  Shivering under the vampire’s cold stare, Maya searched her mind for the right word, drawing her memory back to the night when Adam stood in her living room and turned her brain upside down. “Angry,” she said at last. “I was furious.”

  “Good girl.” The vampire gave her an impudent wink. “Anger is your friend. Can you cast any spells?”

  Keeping her thoughts away from Benjamin, she said, “I know how to do an Unlock spell, but I can’t get it to work.”

  “Why not? Can’t compress or expand your power?”

  “I can do that. But it doesn’t release right.”

  To her surprise, the vampire nodded as though this were normal. “Yeah. That seems to happen a lot to people with one of the rare magical gifts.” Maya started to speak, but he waved her question away. “You need a trigger in order to force the spell words to shape your magic, correct?”

  “Right!” Maya said, realization almost making her reach out and touch him. “Paper.”

  “Paper?”

  “When I crumble paper—” she flushed, thinking how stupid it sounded “—I feel my magic vibrate.”

  He leaned back, face bland, but eyes shining with speculation. Reaching into a pocket in his jacket, he extracted a folded sheet of white paper. “Will this work?” he said, handing it to her.

  Not bound by the same power that kept him out of her house, the paper crossed her threshold and Maya took it. She squinted in the poor light and saw that it was a takeout menu from a vegetarian restaurant in Boise, Idaho. “Yes. This would work.”

  Unfolding the menu, she looked over the restaurant’s offerings, her thoughts her own and under her control. The longer the vampire’s magic kept Adam’s at bay, the more she felt more like herself. “Couldn’t you just, um, just take Adam’s spell off me?”

  “Sure. But you would still be vulnerable to him. You need to learn how to repel his Mesmer power.”

  The implication in the vampire’s words hit Maya. Adam would be back. He’d want her to create more of the Formed. She would need to have the strength to resist him. The vampire watched her, expression bland, but there was a suggestion of pity in his eyes. A question surfaced in her mind.

  “Who are you? Why…?”

  “Breas Montrose. I’m Benjamin’s�
��employer.” At the mention of the thief’s name, an icicle of pain pierced Maya between her eyes, Adam’s power finding a weak spot in Breas’s. As she yelped and lifted her hand to her forehead, the vampire nodded, pleased. “So you’re not a cold-hearted bitch after all.”

  “Huh?”

  “Back on topic,” said Breas. “Your innate magic should repel Mesmer power. A Mesmer spell vibrates at a frequency that causes sympathetic harmonies with a person’s innate power, and those harmonies set up a barrier to Mesmer.”

  “Oh,” said Maya. The lack of food and sleep left her ill-equipped to deal with what sounded like a physics lesson.

  “Your innate magic needs a kick start, the sound of paper crumpling.” The smirk returned. “You’re magically handicapped. Chances are you’ll always have to rely on the paper trick.”

  “I’m…” Maya took a weary breath, trying for weak humor, “not handicapped, I’m differently-abled.”

  “Political correctness. Yet another reason to eat humans.” Breas repeated the slight eye movement that must have been his version of eyes rolled in disgust. “If you want to free yourself from Adam’s command, all you have to do is remember the sensation of his power taking you.”

  Maya swallowed hard, letting her mind take her back, remembering the first rush of Adam’s power over her.

  “Then push back, imagine your power shoving him away, fuel that with anger. Once you’re good and pissed off, do your paper trick.”

  Good and pissed off was easy. The more her head cleared, the more she realized how much damage Adam had done to her over the past two days. If anything, she wanted to let her fury boil over and have a tantrum, the kind of outburst that would impress a two-year-old.

  Out of my head, she thought, eyes narrowing and face tightening with a scowl. She wasn’t exactly sure what Breas meant by “push,” but she tensed every muscle in her body, even curling her toes. I’m a rock and you can’t break a rock. She relaxed her right hand long enough to get a better grip on the menu. Then she crushed it.

  The effect instantaneous, power shook her body so hard her teeth chattered. Energy galloped through her, ripping away Adam’s spell like a gardener after weeds, roots frantically trying to maintain their grip before tearing under the assault. For an instant she thought she knew what it was like to be burned alive, every nerve in her body raw and screaming. He knees buckled and she slumped forward, falling out the door.

  Now that she had control of her brain, the last thing Maya wanted to do was collapse in a vampire’s arms. Gravity had other plans and she toppled toward Breas. At the last second, just before her face collided with the Brazilian flag on his shirt, he moved. “Disappeared” was more accurate than “moved,” since one second he was there, the next gone.

  She landed on her hands and knees in the place where he had stood. A sharp little pebble on the concrete bit into her palm and two new bruises ached on her knees. Out of breath, she remained there, taking stock. Gentle waves of the vampire’s power still rocked over her but without any specific demands. Except for an overall feeling of tenderness, Adam’s Mesmer power was gone from her system.

  “I forgot to mention, it might hurt a little,” said Breas. He stood about a foot away.

  Scowling at his shoes—hmm, hiking boots—she grumbled, “Spoken like the dentist after he jabs a ten-inch needle in your mouth.”

  “I like dentists. They understand the value of pain.” The vampire chuckled. “Get back in the house.”

  “Why? Feeling peckish?” She struggled to her feet.

  “No.” Breas motioned with a tilt of his head. “Your neighbor is getting an eyeful, though.” Ms. Kalman’s silhouette was at its usual station.

  Maya sighed, stood, gave Ms. Kalman a wave, which, as usual, wasn’t returned, and staggered back into the house. “Does it always hurt?” she asked.

  “Only the first time,” Breas drawled.

  This time Maya rolled her eyes, trying to push aside his Mesmer power, which had the disconcerting effect of making him even more attractive, if that was possible. To her surprise, some of the power moving over her was brushed away.

  “It should only hurt if the Mesmer spell has settled into your mind. If you do what you just did, with my power, you’ll keep it from getting that far. Of course, your magic is still active thanks to the trigger. I don’t know how long that’ll last. You might want to keep some kind of paper handy at all times.”

  “Handicapped,” Maya said.

  “Differently-abled,” said the vampire with a sneer. He started to back away.

  “Wait.” The word sprang from her mouth before she realized. Trying not to shrink under the vampire’s irritated glare, she collected her thoughts. Adam would be back. There was no doubt. How would he react when he found that Maya could repel his power? A little tremor of fear ran up her spine.

  She knew she was stalling, putting off going back into her empty house and facing the events of the last two days. “Benjamin sent you, right? He knows I didn’t mean…?”

  “We’re not having an Oprah moment, little troll doll. Ask him yourself.” He looked over his shoulder. “He’s over there, lurking in the shadows about two houses down. I reckon he doesn’t trust me, thinks I might develop a taste for dark meat.”

  Maya took a step out of the house, squinting at the darkness and seeing nothing. Breas made a shooing gesture. “Go back in the house. I’ll send him along in a minute.”

  Something about the vampire’s tone worried her. “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

  His smile was beautiful and chilling. “Why would I do that? I’m a nice guy. Cute little animals love me.”

  “You mean ‘bats’?” Maya quipped.

  “That’s a myth. But the part about me needing an invite into a house isn’t.”

  Maya took the hint.

  Chapter Twenty

  Maya closed her door, turning the lock switch with a fierce twist, shutting out the night and the image of the tall blond vampire on her front walkway. Resting her weight on one hand against the door, she fought the urge to collapse on the floor and fall asleep. In addition to her depleted magic, Maya trembled with the aftereffect of adrenaline.

  When the elation of freedom started to fade, a grinding misery rushed to fill the emptiness that had been Maya for the last two days. She straightened, rubbing her hands over her arms, chilled by the sense that something foul had ridden her, invaded her body.

  That something had a name—Adam Sayres. She shivered, furious and broken by the knowledge that she could be so easily used, treated like a dumb puppet. Remembering her last conversation with Roland, a rush of tears blurred her vision. Not only had Adam taken her ability to think and make her own choices, but he had made her treat her friends terribly.

  Seconds later she stood in her kitchen, listening to Roland’s phone ring. He answered the phone by saying, “Maya. Are you all right?”

  “I’m so sorry. I—”

  “You’re back. The real Maya is back,” Roland said before she could finish her apology.

  “Yes.”

  “Is Ben there?”

  “No, he’s, uh, on his way.” At least she hoped he was.

  “When Eric and I told him about your…condition, he said he had an idea how to help.”

  I have the best friends, ever. Guilty grief welled in Maya’s throat and she pushed down a sob. “He sent a friend,” she said as evenly as possible. She told Roland about Breas’s visit.

  “A vampire, a real, live vampire?”

  “I don’t know if a vampire counts as ‘live,’ but Breas is a vampire.”

  “Oh no.” Roland’s gasp was loud over the phone.

  “Oh no, what?”

  “That’s what he meant by selling his soul. You don’t think the vampire will do something bad to Ben?”

  “I don’t think so.” She glanced at her front door. “Oh, Roland, I was so awful to him. I told him I never wanted to see him again.”

  “If it helps
, Eric and I were pretty hard on him. We thought he’d broken your heart and sent you over the deep end.” Roland explained how he had gotten Benjamin’s phone number from the note on her corkboard and confronted the thief. “I think we owe him an apology too.”

  Maya smiled, warmed by the image of Eric and Roland playing the part of angry big brothers. “Thank Eric for me, will you?”

  “You bet. I need to call him and tell him you’re okay. You really are okay?”

  “Shaky, but okay.” On that note, she slumped into a chair at her small table. “I need to apologize to Benjamin.”

  “I think he understands.”

  Maya thanked Roland again and hung up. The phone rang a second later. It was Benjamin.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  Though she had no idea what he’d sound like if the vampire had done something dreadful, like turn him into one of the undead, he sounded normal. “I’m not the one who made a deal with the devil, or a vampire.”

  “Oh, that. Don’t worry about it.”

  “He didn’t hurt you?”

  There was moment of hesitation and then he said, “No, I’m fine. Breas and I made a deal. If you’re back to normal, it was worth it.”

  I’ll never be normal again, she thought, fatigue starting to overcome everything, even her anger at Adam. Her eyes settled on the illustration of the blue-skinned demon—Terrence? I’ve never been normal. “I want to see you.” Her mother, a proponent of playing hard to get, would be appalled, but she didn’t care. “I need to see you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Now.” Remembering her manners, she said, “Please.”

  “Okay,” he said, his voice breaking slightly.

  Drawing her hair off her face, she felt the grit of unwashed strands and her fingers were mired in black tangles. No wonder Breas had called her a troll doll. “I need a shower. I haven’t showered in two days.”