The Girl With Crooked Fangs

by Amy Cross

  “Dad -”

  “We have to try again,” he muttered, clearly starting to panic. “O'Malley said there were three Sentinels watching the town. Maybe we can try another road out, maybe they won't notice us this time! Isobel, let me into the driver's seat!”

  “So we can try to run away again?”

  He sighed. “You don't understand! This is -”

  “I don't understand because you won't tell me anything!” she hissed. “I get it! I was skeptical at first, but now I've seen it with my own eyes and I guess I can't deny that something pretty crazy is going on!” She paused, before twisting the rear-view mirror and taking a look at her face. Baring her crooked fangs, she stared at them for a moment, and then she reached up and touched the tips. “These things are real. I mean, they're definitely in my mouth, so I can't exactly ignore them. And that thing on the road was real too, and I don't think we can run from any of what's happening.”

  “We're not running,” John replied, feeling the cut on the side of his forehead. “I'm just trying to protect you.”

  “Is that what happened to Mom?” she asked. “Were you trying to protect her, too?”

  He turned to her. “Isobel...”

  “You said she was human.”

  He paused, before nodding.

  “And you're a vampire,” she continued, “so she was a human who married a...”

  Her voice trailed off for a moment.

  “Did she know what she was getting into?” she asked finally.

  He nodded again.

  “And she still married you?”

  “Your mother was a remarkable woman,” he replied, “and a far, far better person than...” He hesitated. “She'd know what to do right now. She'd know how to protect you.”

  “Maybe she'd do it by filling me in on what's happening,” Izzy suggested, “instead of trying to keep me in the dark.”

  John stared at her for a moment. “I think you're probably right.”

  Leaning back in her seat for a moment, Izzy looked at the house. So many thoughts were swirling through her mind, and so many questions, although after a moment she glanced at the front door and one question in particular suddenly seemed much more important.

  “So,” she said finally, forcing herself to stay calm, “why don't you start by telling me why there's a burned man standing in our doorway?”

  Turning, John sighed as he saw O'Malley waving at them.

  ***

  “My God, you really have grown!” O'Malley said as he followed Izzy and John into the house. “The last time I saw you, Isobel, you were a little baby wriggling in a crib!”

  “I'm not a baby anymore,” she replied, watching as John headed through to the office. “Dad? We need to talk!”

  Stopping at the door, John turned to her. “I, uh...” He paused, with all the color seemingly having drained from his face. “I need to grab a few things,” he said finally. “Books, documents, things I can show you. Proof, if you like. It'll only take a few minutes.”

  “I don't need books and documents,” she replied. “I just need you to talk to me.”

  “I won't be long,” he continued, heading into the office. “I'll just gather some items.”

  “Dad -”

  Before she could finish, the door swung shut, leaving her to sigh.

  “He's not finding this very easy,” O'Malley suggested.

  Izzy turned to him. “Are you one too?”

  “One what?”

  “A...” She paused, not really wanting to say the word. “A vampire?”

  “Oh yes,” he replied with a faint smile. “Most definitely.”

  “And you're... Irish?”

  “The two things are not mutually exclusive,” he pointed out. “In fact, Ireland has a long tradition of vampires. I just happen to be a long way from home.”

  “And you're...” She frowned. “Burned?”

  “Long story,” he continued, “but I'll be healing pretty quickly, so don't worry about that. Give me a few weeks and I'll be back to my usual handsome self. There won't even be any scars.” He frowned. “Well, there'd better not be, anyway.”

  Izzy stared at him for a moment, before hearing some bumps from the office. She could tell her father was using the sliding steps to reach items high up on the bookshelves, and although she wanted to go and let him know that he shouldn't bother, she figured there'd be no point. He clearly needed an army of items before he could sit down and just talk, almost as if sitting and being honest was too difficult. After a moment, she turned to O'Malley.

  “You said you met me when I was a baby?” she asked cautiously.

  “Aye,” he said, and this time his smile was broader. “Lovely plump little thing, you were.”

  “Does that mean...” She paused, feeling a strange swelling sensation in her chest and throat. “Does that mean you knew my mother?”

  A flicker of concern crossed O'Malley's face. “I did,” he said finally. “Yes.”

  “What was she like?”

  “What has John told you?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, holding back tears. “I've seen a couple of photos, and I've fixed her old camera, but whenever I've asked Dad about her, he's only said things like...” She paused, thinking back to the many times she'd tried and failed to get John talking. “He said she's nice. A good mother. Honest. Clever. Beautiful. Things like that.” She paused again. “Just generic stuff that you could say about a lot of people.”

  Hearing more sounds from the office, she realized John was going through his desk. Feeling as if she wanted to storm in and tell him to stop, she headed instead to the dining room and made her way over to the framed photo of her mother. Picking the photo up, she looked at it for a moment and saw a happy, smiling woman staring back at her.

  “John took her death very hard, Isobel,” O'Malley said, having followed her and stopped in the doorway.

  Still holding back tears, Izzy wiped a smudge from the glass. “It's Izzy.”

  “I beg your -”

  “My name's Izzy,” she said firmly. “I hate being called Isobel.”

  “Your mother believed in people making their own lives,” O'Malley continued. “She had no truck with the idea that people are bound by who they were in the past or by where they started out in life. Genetics, finances, fate, destiny... She always said that no matter what you had to begin with, and no matter how long it took, you could change anything and be the person you wanted to be. I think she did that herself, for her own life, and she also pushed John to change too. She made him see that anything was possible if he just fought for it enough.”

  “He seems to have forgotten that these days,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she continued to look at the photo. “He's all... curled up on the inside. Frightened and afraid.”

  Hearing more bumping sounds from the office, she felt a flash of anger as she looked toward the hallway. There was a part of her that wanted to run through and scream at him, although she figured that even that wouldn't be enough to shake him into action.

  “Why can't he just talk to me?” she asked, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Why does he need to gather props first?”

  “Maybe he's delaying,” O'Malley suggested.

  Izzy turned to him. “How did she die?”

  “Your mother?” He paused. “What do you know already?”

  “I know it wasn't a car crash.”

  “But you don't know about...” Again he paused, as if he wasn't sure where to start. “I really think John is the best person to -”

  “He's never going to tell me!” she hissed, before carrying the photo across the room and setting it on the table. She looked down at her mother's face for a moment, and then she turned it so O'Malley could see the picture. “He'll beat around the bush forever, constantly coming up with distractions, the way he's been doing all my life so far! I deserve to know!”

  O'Malley stared at the photo for a moment, as if reminded of something from the past.<
br />
  “Your father wanted to get away from the vampire world,” he said finally. “Your mother convinced him that it was possible. Escaping your destiny, and all that. I'm guessing your father hasn't ever told you about his old life, about his time in the war or -”

  “War?” Izzy asked.

  “Me and my big mouth.”

  “What war?”

  “That's a longer story for another time,” he continued. “Let's just say that John was very tired of it all by the time he met your mother. It's a miracle, really, that she persuaded him to try a new life, but she was an extremely clever woman, and patient too. She and John truly loved one other, and she fought for that love, even when he tried to push her away. He was scared that a human wouldn't be able to survive being with a vampire. As they got closer, he pushed the vampire world further and further away. Of all his old friends and comrades, I was the only one who still visited, and I could tell he was uneasy about having me around. I remember the day I showed up and saw your mother's big round belly, I was so happy but I also knew that John would finally push me away. And I understood, and I was okay with that.”

  Izzy waited for him to continue, but after a moment she realized he seemed to be waiting for another question. “So how did she die?” she asked finally, wiping away more tears.

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Tell me!” she hissed.

  “It was about a year after you were born,” he replied. “From what I understand, John was finally starting to believe that he could put the old times behind him. He and your mother were even talking about having a brother or sister for you. John was always a tough man, but I guess your mother finally made him believe in the future. And then...”

  Again she waited.

  “And then what?”

  In the distance, John could still be heard bumbling around in the office, gathering books and papers.

  O'Malley took a deep breath. “John had made a few enemies over the years,” he said eventually. “We all do. We're vampires, we live a long time, there are bound to be... disagreements. One of those enemies was a very powerful vampire who'd subsequently fallen from grace at Gothos. His name was Gaal RaYuul.” A shudder passed through his body, as if even the mention of that name made him feel uneasy. “The stories about Gaal's crimes are legendary. A little exaggerated, perhaps, but still... Not a man to be messed with. From what I understand, after he fled Gothos, RaYuul sought out all the vampires he held responsible for his downfall. One of those was John Farmer. But RaYuul was a vampire of great cruelty and cunning, and he didn't simply seek to kill his enemies. He wanted to make them suffer, and I guess that when he came for John, he realized that he could do something far, far worse than simply ending his life. So he...”

  His voice trailed off.

  As John continued to work in the study, Izzy wiped tears from her face.

  “This RaYuul person killed my mother?” she asked finally.

  O'Malley nodded.

  More tears flooded her eyes. “She was murdered?”

  “I'm so sorry. Gaal had a degree of history with her himself.”

  “And then...” Her voice cracking now, Izzy took a deep breath, trying to hold back more tears. “And then what?” she finally managed to ask.

  “John took you and ran,” O'Malley continued, and now tears were glistening in his eyes too, and some were even running down his charred and blackened face. “He blamed himself for failing to protect your mother, after all the promises he'd made, and he was determined to keep you safe, Izzy. He even gave up the chance of vengeance, all to keep you from harm. I remember the last time I saw him, he was railing against the entire vampire race, there was so much fury and anger in him, more than I'd ever seen before...” He paused. “He was terrified that RaYuul would keep coming, that you'd be taken away. Of course, RaYuul had no use for a child, at least not back then. If you ask me, he mainly just wanted to crush John's spirit and make him live the rest of his life in fear.”

  “He succeeded,” Izzy whispered, as a cold chill passed through her body.

  “You mustn't be too hard on him,” O'Malley replied. “He brought you here to hide you away, to hide both of you away, and he managed that for a long time. It's only now that the...” He paused again. “Well, that's another matter, but it needn't affect either of you. The Sentinels will deal with it and then they'll be gone, and I'll go with them, and you and your father can get back to how things were.”

  Taking more deep breaths, Izzy began to feel as if she was suffocating. “I can't breathe,” she said finally, reaching up and touching the side of her neck.

  “I realize this must have been a shock,” O'Malley continued, “but -”

  “This house is so stuffy,” she muttered, hurrying to the window and trying to get it open, only to find that the security locks wouldn't budge. She tried another, and by this point she could no longer shake the sense of panic in her chest. “Don't you feel it?” she asked. “There's no air in here! It's like he's tried to seal the place, it's like he's turning it into a tomb!”

  “Izzy, you should talk to your -”

  “I need to go outside,” she stammered, hurrying to the back door and pulling it open.

  “Izzy -”

  “I need air!” She paused, with a trace of anger in her eyes. “So let me get this straight. My mother was murdered, and her killer got away?”

  He sighed.

  “My father didn't go after him? Instead, he ran away?”

  “He took you away! To protect you!”

  “I still feel like I can't breathe,” she replied, taking big, gulping mouthfuls of air. After a moment, she checked her collar, to makes sure it wasn't too tight. “This goddamn house...”

  “I'm sorry you had to hear all of this from me,” O'Malley replied as Izzy hurried out into the yard. Receiving no reply, he sighed and headed over to the doorway, but when he looked outside he spotted Izzy in the distance, already hurrying along the street. “Come back!” he called after her. “Izzy! You need to talk to your -”

  He sighed as he realized she was already gone.

  A moment later, he heard the office door opening, and he turned just in time to see John making his way through with a huge pile of books and documents balanced in his arms.

  “I'm ready to talk to her now,” John said firmly. “I thought I'd start by teaching her the history of the vampire race from the very beginning, and then I could structure a series of classes over the next few months, going through each era and epoch in a logical order, outlining the key historical figures and artifacts, such as the Seventeen Golden Cups of Gothos and the Library of Swords, and then moving on to the pre-modern era and -”

  “She's gone, John,” O'Malley replied, interrupting him.

  “She's...” He paused, just as a book slid off the top of the pile and landed at his feet. “What do you mean, gone? Gone where?”

  “I think she needed some air,” O'Malley continued. “She's a little upset right now.”

  “She is?” John asked with a frown. “Why?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A few miles outside town, at the edge of a dark road, a lone figure stood in the shadows.

  Ever since Izzy and John had turned around and driven away, Sentinel N3 had been in standby mode. Its orders were simple and – in theory – left no room for doubt: secure the border of Sobolton, ensure that no vampires were allowed in or out, and await instructions regarding the vampire that had been tracked over recent months. Now that it was in standby, Sentinel N3 was engaged in a telepathic discussion with the two other Sentinels that were in the area. Or at least, it was supposed to be engaged in a discussion.

  “Instructions awaited,” N1 and N2 said at the same time. “Information has been relayed.”

  “Human awareness of our presence is nil,” they added a moment later. “The mission is proceeding as planned. Still determining target's location.”

  Sentinel N3, however, was busy replaying recent e
vents. Its organic memory systems allowed it to reach back and relive memories with perfect clarity, and although it was standard procedure to run through such memories once in order to check for hidden dangers, Sentinel N3 had now replayed its encounter with the Farmers many, many times, each time focusing particular attention on Izzy.

  “It's beautiful,” the Sentinel remembered her saying, and then it replayed the sensation of her hand on its face. In truth, it replayed that sensation many times more than necessary, constantly reliving the feeling of her fingers brushing against its carved warning messages.

  Something was rising from the depths of the creature's memory system.

  Something from a long time ago.

  “This is my daughter,” it heard John's voice insisting. “She has nothing whatsoever to do with what is happening in this town. She's just a child, you can see that for yourself, so let her go! Even if you insist on keeping me here, you have to recognize that your orders don't apply to her. You were sent here to contain the threat, were you not? So contain it by letting Isobel Farmer leave the cordon!”

  At the time, Sentinel N3 had not even considered acquiescing. Its orders were clear, and there was no possibility of letting any vampire through the cordon in either direction. Now, however, it was beginning to consider the alternatives, and somewhere deep in its organic logic systems Sentinel N3 was starting to doubt its choice. Isobel Farmer clearly posed no threat, and although the orders had been absolutely explicit, N3 was considering something that had never crossed its mind before.

  The possibility that the orders might have been wrong.

  And the possibility that it might have seen Izzy once before.

  “You've hurt him!” Izzy had shouted a moment later, once her father had been knocked out. “You didn't have to do that! You could have just -”

  That was when Sentinel N3 had started the car, hoping to make Izzy realize that she had no choice but to return to town. That was another moment when orders had been implemented, but as the car had driven away, Sentinel N3 had felt the first seeds of doubt in its mind. Izzy had seemed so upset and angry, and now it seemed possible that letting her leave the cordon might have been a better choice. It would have gone against the orders, of course, but still...