by Emily Reese
“Let’s start with, um, what are you?” I finally managed. “You’re not a vampire.”
“Nope.”
“Yet you work for them.”
“Currently,” he said, his amused expression never fading.
Two can play the short but sweet answer card. “Fine. Explain.” I folded my arms to show him I meant business. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to look like you mean business in a teeny kitchenette while leaning back to eyeball someone, so far you almost fall. I attempted to glare at him and failed. Elliot’s widening grin hinted as much.
The microwave beeped, giving my enigmatic partner yet another reprieve. He reached over me and removed my mug, limiting my personal space even further. With a nod back toward the living room, I was left to follow or go hungry. Well, hell.
I found him sitting on the love seat holding my cup out to me. Clearly an invitation to sit by him, which I in no way wanted to accept. Still, if we would be working together… I snatched my mug and sat with a huff.
“They call us Jumpers,” Elliot informed me, seemingly oblivious to my annoyance. Having no idea what a “Jumper” was, I motioned for him to continue.
“I’m both mortal and immortal. Part of me, the mortal part, came with this body. The rest, my Transcendent Self, came from my previous host.”
“Host?” I choked causing Elliot to snort. That sounds awfully parasitic.
“Before I came to this body, I was in a different one. At that time, my name was Peter. When Peter’s body died, I took everything he was, his soul if you want, and then came into Elliot’s body.”
“You’re like a body snatcher?” I couldn’t help but lean back from him. This is so far beyond disturbing.
“It’s a difficult concept to explain,” he told me with a patient expression. “We’re more like a sponge. Each time you use the sponge to soak up a liquid, it blends in with whatever else was already in the sponge. Water, coffee, blood,” he said with a nod to the mug in my hands. “They were all one thing, now they’re another, blended together, inseparable. When the host body reaches the end of its life, once the sponge has soaked up all the liquid, I move on to my next host.”
“But what about the people that end up being your hosts?”
“They become me. I am Elliot. It’s something I volunteered for, and I never left. There’s just more of me, of the Jumper now. I have all my memories and experiences, only now I also carry Peter’s… and others.”
“How many others?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Where I come from, that’s the equivalent of asking a woman her age,” he smiled tightly and took another sip of his coffee. I took another sip as well, trying to hide my embarrassment.
“Were you always and investigator for this Council thingy?”
Inexplicably, Elliot barked out a laugh and nearly spilled his drink.
“What?” I asked.
“I just imagined their faces if I referred to them as a thingy.”
“Whatever. Who are they? What do they do? Why do you work for them? And how do you make an Elder vampire fall in line?” The questions poured out of me before I could stop myself. Elliot checked his watch, then emptied his coffee cup.
“If I sit here and answer your questions, we’ll be here all night. We have work to do.” He stood and extended his hand to me. “Let’s get moving.” When I hesitated to take it he cocked his head and smiled. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mike’s second night in Vegas brought with it a whole new set of concerns. Tonight they would be making vampires.
Dressing quickly, Mike made a mental list of the questions he had about the evening. Was he expected to participate? What did he have to do? Would it be bad? What was going to happen?
The memory of his own transformation wasn’t anything to be relied on; still, he didn’t think it could be called pleasant.
When Mike entered the living room he found Ben waiting, typing on his phone as if he had nothing notable planned this evening. Surprisingly, he was wearing more of a Mike outfit — jeans and a t-shirt.
“Damn, man, I didn’t think you even owned clothes like that,” Mike joked on the way to their kitchen. “Can I get you something?”
“No thank you, I’ve eaten,” Ben replied in a distracted manner. Mike went about the pouring and heating of his “meal.” When he went to throw the bag away, he paused. There was nothing in the trash can. Looking around, the sink was empty as well. From the looks of things, Ben went “out” for dinner. Mike swallowed hard, unsure if he’d ever be able to come to terms with that side of his new life. Not only that, but now his drink didn’t taste as good.
“We’re on a tight schedule, Mike,” Ben called to him. “Drink up.”
Grateful for a misspent youth, Mike chugged the blood fairly quickly and was soon ready to leave. They took the elevator once again, but instead of heading back up to the hotel, they descended further under the sands above. After more than a few minutes, the elevator dinged and the door opened into a small, unadorned foyer.
“How deep does this place go?” he whispered to Ben when they exited.
“Our home is more than a little shallow. There’s only so much you can build against the water line. But here,” Ben explained in a soft voice, “there’s plenty of stable ground beneath the surface. I have no idea how far down their complex goes. So far it seems fairly average.” His commentary ended when they reached the door at the other end of the foyer. Following Ben through, Mike needed a few seconds to process what he saw on the other side.
The room they entered was larger and circular, the ceiling going up about three stories to a smooth dome. Caged florescent lights high up in the curved roof bathed everything in a cold glow. The entire room was made of a dark gray stone that had clearly seen better days. Chunks were missing in many places and gashes scored the bottom half of the walls. Some of them looked suspiciously like claw marks, but Mike couldn’t begin to picture what made them. A sinking feeling told him he didn’t want to know.
Arranged against the walls were hospital beds, ten by Mike’s count. Each one held a young woman attached to an IV; though nothing was flowing through them at the moment, each bag already contained a small amount of deep red blood. Every woman looked different, though none could be more than thirty; the youngest appeared in her early twenties. Mike’s heart stuttered when he looked at her closely; she reminded him of Susan, his old human flame.
When did she become human to me, instead of just my ex?
Despite the momentous occasion this evening, the women all seemed calm. Their heads faced the center of the room where Bear stood, backed by Tommy.
Mike followed Ben to meet them, and remembered to bow this time. As he straightened, Tommy gave him a wink.
“I apologize for yesterday evening,” Bear said quietly. Mike was surprised he was even being addressed by an Elder, let alone receiving an apology.
“Oh, um… no, it’s cool. I didn’t know what I was…” between the awkwardness and intimidation he felt in the huge barbarian’s presence, the words quickly died in his throat.
“I know you didn’t, which is all the more reason for me to apologize. It seems no matter how old we get, we can never fully master our nature.” When Mike, totally at a loss, failed to respond, Bear continued. “I appreciate you both coming to our aid this night. I understand this is the first turning you have witnessed other than your own?”
“Yes, sir.” Mike decided the manners couldn’t hurt. “I don’t really remember mine either.”
“I see. In that case,” Bear told him with a heavy stare, “I urge you to steel yourself. The gift of a Second Life is not easy to endure; the transformation is even harder on women, which is why there are always so few females of our kind to be found.” Stepping back from Mike, Bear raised his voice so that it echoed throughout the room.
“We thank you, daughters of man!” As he spoke he turn
ed, looking each woman in the eye. “The sacrifice you make tonight shall neither be forgotten, nor in vain. You have each volunteered to endure enormous pain, so that we, the children of Iina and Mayna may survive another night. Before we begin, I charge you all to look to your conscience. Make sure that you are prepared for what comes. Some, no, most of you will perish this night. Perhaps, all. If any of you wish to change your minds, speak now. You may leave with nothing but our respect and reverence for your honesty.” A full minute of silence followed. “Then we begin.”
Mike followed Ben to a small table that had up until that time been hidden by Bear’s massive frame. Ben placed the refrigerated suitcase from New Orleans gently on the surface and unpacked.
“Iina and Mayna?” Mike whispered to Ben.
“I told you we had our own gods,” he replied. “Theology’s down on the list of things you need to worry about at the moment.”
“Gotcha. What do I do?”
“Bear and Tommy will handle most of it. I’m going to walk around and add some of our mixture to the IV bags,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth. “You just walk behind me. Carry the full container until I need to switch out. Once we’ve gone around the circle, stay back and stay silent. It won’t take very long.” He turned and handed Mike one of the canisters of Bear’s blood mixed with that of a female from their home territory. “Listen to me, Michael,” he said and caught Mike’s eye, “do not interfere. This is their responsibility. Do you understand?”
Mike nodded with more than a little trepidation and followed Ben to the first volunteer.
The first woman, a brunette in her late twenties, had her eyes closed with a serene look on her face. Tommy prepared to undo the clamp on her IV tube and waited while Ben added their mixture and one of Khale’s own females. Whose was it? Claire’s? Given the ceremonial tone of Bear’s speech, the whole thing was surprisingly clinical. Using a large syringe, Ben withdrew the black fluid from the container and injected it into a port on the side of the bag. Within seconds of contact, the vampire blood mixed, the entire contents of the bag turning thick and black. Tommy then released a clamp on the IV’s line, introducing the mixture into the candidate’s bloodstream.
“Thank you, Grace,” Tommy whispered as he leaned over and kissed the brunette’s forehead. She tried to smile, but failed. The muscles in her neck we already tense, a sheen of sweat breaking out over her body. All this and she’d been on the IV for a few seconds.
Bear was at the next woman’s side, the ritual the same. The transformative blood was added, the clamp released, the woman thanked… and they moved on.
Something wrong was happening deep in the pit of Mike’s stomach. It felt like the sun was coming up, although it was still fairly early in the night, and he had just eaten. With each volunteer, Mike felt that much more nauseous. He knew his own transformation occurred with significantly more violence, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful waited just around the corner. He remembered Ben’s warning: do not interfere. Why was that? What do they know that I don’t?
The last woman was the one who looked like Susan. She looked up at Bear with something near worship as he undid the clamp on her IV tube.
“I thank you, Miranda,” Bear told her and kissed her forehead. As he turned to leave, she grabbed his hand and pulled it to her.
“Anything for you,” she whispered. Gently, Bear withdrew his hand and pushed her hair away from her face. Mike’s temperature escalated at the appalling display. Did they seduce these women into this? He was ready to call Bear on his deceit, Elder or not until he turned away from Miranda; all Mike saw on Bear’s face was pity and guilt. The reproach died in his throat. It seemed that Bear didn’t like what was happening any more than Mike did… and he had experienced this all before.
A scream shattered the silence and confirmed Mike’s worst fears; this night would do nothing but supply him with further nightmares. The first woman, Grace, went rigid in her bed, her back arched as high as physically possible. The wail coming from her was something primal, something you would expect from a battlefield hospital, not this sanitary environment. Tommy was already at her side; he had chosen a t-shirt instead of something dressier, just like Ben. Now Mike understood why. Sleeves would’ve taken more time and it was clear time was not on Grace’s side. Tommy bit his wrist and held it to Grace’s mouth. For a while, it seemed like the healing blood he offered worked. Her screaming stopped and she relaxed enough to fall back down to the bed.
“That’s my girl, Gracie,” Tommy purred, “just drink —” Before he could finish she began to shake with a full body seizure. “Bear!” he yelled, “Help me!”
Together they tried to subdue Grace and keep her on the bed. It surprised Mike to see how much difficulty they were having. Are females that much stronger?
With Grace, sadly, Mike would never know. As fast as it began, her seizures stopped, her body going limp. Tommy cradled her head and pressed his wrist closer to her mouth all the time whispering urges to drink and breathe. Finally, Bear put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him gently away.
“She’s left us, Thomas.”
“No, no,” Tommy shook his head in denial. “We haven’t given her enough time.”
“Her time is up, my friend. We will soon have other charges that need you. Thank her for her gift, and let her go in peace.”
With a shaky breath, Tommy nodded. He wiped away tears with both hands and when they left his face he was again composed.
“Thank you, Gracie,” he told her bitterly and closed her eyes.
Within seconds, there was another scream, then another. The women were changing, or at least attempting the transformation. Bear and Tommy went from bed to bed, using their blood to help each of their initiates survive the ordeal. At one point there were more patients needing help than the two Vegas vampires could handle. When another heart-wrenching shriek erupted, Bear turned pleading eyes to Ben. Something passed between them, and Ben moved to the nearest suffering woman.
Mike was at a loss. Did he follow? Did he stay put? Was he supposed to get the next one? Fortunately, Tommy had an answer for him.
“Hey, I think she’s going to make it!” Tommy yelled triumphantly. He was standing next to a beautiful woman with skin the color of the New Orleans pralines he’d grown to love as a human. She had a mass of honey colored curls and for reasons Mike could not comprehend, they seemed to be moving, undulating like snakes. The gulping noise coming from her direction helped Mike understand. She was drinking so heavily from Tommy that her whole body was heaving when she swallowed.
“Kid,” a weary looking Tommy called to him, “bring me a drink, will ya?” He gestured to a cooler at the foot of one of the beds. Mike tried using his new found speed, happy that he could get an open bag of blood to Tommy so quickly. The bag was snatched from Mike with no flashy comeback, not even a thank you. Tommy chugged the blood almost as fast as it was being drawn out of him. Throwing it aside he gestured for another one, which Mike hurried to get.
“Damn,” Tommy swore when he finished the second bag. “She’s going to drain me.”
“Let me do it,” Mike blurted. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be interfering, but Tommy looked as if he didn’t have that much left to give. The cocky swagger was long gone, his once youthful face now sunken and sallow.
“You sure about this, Kid?”
“Yeah,” Mike said and swallowed. “You said she’s going to make it. There’s going to be another girl who needs you more. Just tell me what to do.”
“Bite your wrist,” Tommy instructed. “Be ready to put your arm to her mouth as soon as I remove mine. She’s not gonna like someone taking her food away,” he laughed ruefully.
Mike did as instructed, biting his wrist until it bled, then positioning it next to Tommy’s.
“Ready?” Tommy asked. Mike nodded. “Go!” Tommy had to put his hand on the woman’s forehead to pry his arm away from her. An escalatin
g snarl crept its way out of her mouth, but was silenced by Mike offering his wrist. Immediately she began to feed from him; he’d never felt a pull like this in either of his lives.
“Her name is Drew,” Tommy informed him. Without Mike noticing Tommy had already left and returned with three bags of blood. “Just talk to her, try to keep her calm. She’s not very aware yet, but that will change the more she drinks. Don’t worry,” he added with a chuckle, “she’ll get full eventually. Until then, keep your heart rate down and drink these if you start to feel tired. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Great kid. Yell if you need me.” Then he was gone. Mike sat there awkwardly, unsure of how to make conversation with someone who was literally draining his life force, but… Tommy had said to talk. So Mike talked.
“Hey, Drew,” he began. “Uh, my name’s Mike. Tommy had to go help someone else, so I agreed to um… feed you, since you seem to be doing better.” Drew gave no sign that she heard never mind understood him. “It’s a good thing you’re not paying attention, I guess. I sound like an idiot. Ah!” Mike hissed when Drew took a particularly harsh pull on his veins. “You think you could ease up a bit there, Drew? I’m not going anywhere, but you’re killing me.” The phrase forced a laugh from his lips. “Killing me again. Ugh, that was awful. I’ll make you a deal, Drew. You slow down a little bit, and I’ll tone down the terrible jokes, okay?”
To his surprise, Drew’s gulping slowed. She hadn’t opened her eyes or moved much, but she understood him.
“Oh, well thank you, then. Yeah, that’s a little less painful. I appreciate it. So, um, it looks like you’re going to be a vampire. A badass as far as I know; I’ve been told girls — ahem — women are stronger than us guys. Like way stronger. You’ll probably be able to kick my ass straight off the table.” For a second Mike thought he saw the corners of her mouth turn up just a little. “I’m pretty new myself,” he continued, “just a few weeks old. I’m from New Orleans. Well, actually, I was from Texas, but I was turned in New Orleans so… anyway, you’re looking better. You’re getting some of your color back in your cheeks, so I guess that’s good. I have no idea what to talk to you about. It’s not like I can tell you much about your new life. I barely know myself.”