Origin Story

by Rowena Rede

  He accepted his hat and made his way to the exit. “One more thing, word among our mutual associates travels quickly and I must offer my congratulations on your first werewolf kill. Helpless creatures such as you are, and you destroyed that thing with only minor injuries to your person. Strange you encountered one during the daytime without a full moon. One must wonder what could compel a wolf to be so bold. Not many things will hold sway over a creature who is so nearly feral as they.” Without waiting for a reply, their vampire witness disappeared in a flash.

  “Ann Rice did not adequately prepare me for this,” Thatcher sighed as he holstered his gun and locked the deadbolt on the door.

  “Well, the movie was way different than the book anyway,” Will replied as he too, put his gun away.

  Everyone exhaled once the deadbolt was locked. Maya placed the bottle of vampire blood on her desk and sat down once again. She stared at the bottle hard, as if she was expecting it to burst into flames. Thatcher swooped in low and made eye contact with her from the other side of her desk. He stared at her hard for a few seconds as if he were trying to read her thoughts.

  Maya stared back, waiting for him to break first, even if it felt awkward. He had nice eyes, a beautiful shade of blue that reminded her of the Caribbean.

  “So what’s so special about this blatant health hazard?” He spoke first, breaking the awkward tension. She blinked a few times before she answered.

  “Blood magic is the strongest type of magic. You can do nearly anything with it. A vampire's blood is extra special. If you’re human and you’re being turned by a vampire, you’re brought to the brink of death and forced to drink from the vampire doing the turning. When blood is swapped like that, there’s an exchange of memories and thoughts.”

  “You’re not going to turn into one are you?” Thatcher asked, concern in his expression.

  “No, Merle gave us his blood for a spell. We can see his memories without having to become vampires. Most likely it’ll be the night before Apple’s abduction since he was in slumber during the abduction. It’s the biggest lead we have so far.”

  “What do we need to do?” Will chimed in, swirling yet another cup of coffee in his hands.

  “Even after seeing all the weird stuff we’ve seen with Shadownet, I still can’t believe we’re smack in the middle of this weird hoodoo mumbo jumbo stuff,” Thatcher muttered to Will as they carried supplies from Maya’s Jeep.

  Maya herself was busy checking for wards and traps.

  “What’s even in here? This bag is heavy,” he tossed a large army-issue canvas duffel bag onto the hood of the old Wrangler. It landed with a heavy thud and for a second he flinched thinking about possible damage. Only for a second though, this vehicle was a relic and he was pretty sure the rust was actually holding the frame together. Maya was NOT a car person. He began to unzip the bag but was interrupted by Will clearing his throat.

  “After what we’ve been through today, do you think that’s wise? Who knows what’s in there? What if it’s a weird magical weapon or a shrunken head or something?” Will had a point.

  “Thanks for being the voice of reason Debbie Downer.” Park picked the bag up once more. “A magical weapon would be cool. If it was a shrunken head, I’d want to know. It’s always good to find out if your colleagues are psychopaths before going on a mission with them.”

  “That’s never stopped you before,” Will rolled his eyes and took the other bag they’d been assigned to bring with them.

  “Geeze, you date a murderess villain once and it follows you throughout your whole career,” Park sheepishly followed Will from the jeep to the employee entrance of the large apartment building.

  “I’m just saying, you probably should vet people a little better if you’re going to spend so much time with them.”

  “Uh, Pot calling Kettle. Pretty sure this is, in fact, the same predicament we’re in right now.”

  “Except you’re not romantically involved with our colleague.” Will knew Thatcher had a point, but he wasn’t going to concede without arguing any counterpoint he could.

  “Nor is he likely to be either,” Maya chimed in from the doorway. Both men looked at her embarrassed. She ignored them and took Thatcher’s bag.

  “Let me carry it, it’s heavy,” he protested and held onto it. Maya pulled harder, giving him a glare that could instill a heavy fear in the Devil himself should he ever come across it. “Okay fine, you win.”

  “This bag has all the important stuff in it. It just makes me feel better if I hold on to it. You can take point. We’re going to the Penthouse. The wards seem to have been disabled. No doubt Morgan’s people have already combed through the place. He strikes me as thorough. It still doesn’t mean there aren’t surprises waiting for us.” She shifted the bag to a more comfortable position. Thatcher noticed it was nearly as tall as she was and smiled.

  Maya noticed and barked at him, “Got those silver bullets I gave you earlier?” He nodded. It was time to get to work. “Then lead on ombre,” she gestured with impatience. Park didn’t hesitate. He was in his element now. He heard Ison cock his gun behind him and smiled again. The objective might be completely out of his understanding, but the feeling he got from working a mission was always the same. His adrenaline surged as he led the way through the door and towards the elevator.

  To his dismay, it was smooth sailing from the employee entrance to the elevators. He tried to hide his disappointment, but Maya read him like a book.

  “Sorry, you didn’t get to shoot anything. Don’t worry, the night is young.” Park noticed Will smirking and pretended not to hear her. The silence in the elevator was deafening and awkward.

  “Any thoughts on that werewolf attack?” Ison’s question was met with a collective sigh of relief. Maya looked up at the mirrored ceiling and exhaled once again before speaking. “I have a theory, but I’d rather not run it by you guys here. We’re probably being monitored as we speak.”

  Will looked up in the direction she was fixated on. There was a camera in the corner, not noticeable to the untrained eye, but he could see the small black lens staring at them.

  “That could be beneficial,” he murmured.

  “I wonder why that wasn’t mentioned before. No doubt the Oberon security crew knew about the cameras all along. I can’t imagine someone as Type A as Morgan wouldn’t have already swept through the footage,” Maya whispered back.

  “I don’t know why you guys are whispering. I’m sure whoever monitors that stuff can read lips and body language. Might as well say what you need to say.” Thatcher deliberately looked up and directly at the camera when he spoke.

  “Hey point guy, we’re almost there, better get back in formation,” Maya readjusted her bag and resumed her earlier position; staring ahead and blanketed in awkward silence.

  “To be continued.” Park sighed and readied his gun just in case.

  Apple’s penthouse was immaculate. Too well kept. The three of them searched the massive common room from top to bottom for obvious signs of foul play. “It looks like the place has already been professionally scrubbed.”

  Maya hated to admit that Thatcher was right, but she couldn’t argue with what was in front of her, or rather, what wasn’t. A quick inspection of the entire apartment revealed more of the same. The beds were made, couch cushions fluffed to the nth degree, everything staged as if it were about to be featured in a magazine.

  “You know, for someone desperate to find their sister, why does it seem like we’re being thwarted at every turn?”

  Again, Thatcher was bringing up good points. “Let’s put a pin in our theories until we get back to my place. Remember who and what we’re dealing with. The walls have ears, literally.” Both men looked at each other, then at the walls. They seemed to get her point and stopped talking.

  “Here’s where Merle’s gift comes in handy. Once I start this spell, we’ll be able to see and hear what he saw. I just need to grab something of Apple’s, preferably a hairbrus
h.”

  Maya sprinted into the master suite, assuming it belonged to Apple, stopping briefly when she noticed the blackout curtains on all the windows. That wasn’t right. Fairies got their power and energy from the sun, at least Seelie fae did. The Oberons were Seelie court, good fairies if you could call a fae “good”.

  In the initial sweep of the apartment, she hadn’t given them a second thought. Now she reexamined everything within this room with more scrutiny. The walk-in closet revealed nothing but women’s apparel and an abundance of expensive shoes neatly placed with museum-quality precision.

  The adjoining bathroom was also in showroom condition. Opening the cupboard, she found a clean hairbrush and cosmetics showing no sign of wear and tear. Why hire us if you go out of your way to hide things? River Oberon had insisted on an elemental witch and the two bozos in the living room. What if he specifically chose her because he knew she was powerless and more likely to fail? What were they covering up? She couldn’t come up with a solid working hypothesis, each clue she struggled to find only yielded more questions.

  Leaving the bathroom empty-handed, she thought of one last place to look, the top drawer of the nightstand, and cringed. This was, without a doubt, a privacy violation.

  “This place is too clean. Oberon’s people must’ve done a sweep before letting us in. Wonder what they’re trying to hide?” Thatcher rummaged around the wet bar in the dining area and found what he was looking for. He produced a glass and a bottle of Macallan and helped himself to a heavy pour. Oblivious to Ison’s look of disdain until he took his first sip.

  “What? It's Macallan, this stuff is $300 a bottle, and it’s just going to waste on display here. The seal wasn’t even cracked.”

  “You know, I’m starting to think that werewolf was a plant. Something to distract us or scare us off from the investigation. Remember what Merle said,” Ison tapped his foot against the hardwood floor nervously, wishing he had an energy drink to help him focus.

  Thatcher took another sip, savoring the smoky flavor of the whiskey before he spoke. “Yeah, he said it was strange that it was transformed in the daytime without a full moon.”

  “I don’t know anything about werewolves except for what I’ve seen in movies, but I’m guessing it’s not something they do voluntarily.”

  Will continued tapping and pacing as he hypothesized. “He also mentioned something about it being held under sway. That leads me to believe something in this messed up hierarchy is bigger and badder than a werewolf and has the ability to control one. Oberon is a powerful guy.”

  Thatcher starting to catch on to Will’s train of thought put his glass down. “Add this extremely thorough housekeeping job and it looks like we’re being sent on a wild goose chase.”

  “You worked with this Oberon guy before. What’s he like?”

  Will ran his fingers through his hair and stopped his pacing. “I only met him a few times. Nothing remarkable. He didn’t even talk to me. His company was compromised in a massive security breach. I was part of the team that contained it and repaired it before the damage was noticeable.”

  Thatcher raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Will, now’s not the time for modesty. If you merely part of the team then why did he remember you years later and specifically ask for you? Hell, we even suspect that he got us burned from our jobs just so he could get you for this job. That’s what’s so damn confusing. Why go to all this trouble to gum up our investigation and stop us from solving the case?”

  “Fine, I was THE person who saved the whole company. I found the software that was siphoning off the research and financial information at Oberon Industries and I stopped it. I don’t know why he picked me except that I was able to do what his experienced global team couldn’t. He wasn’t hands on though. He thanked me and that was it. I dealt with his security guy. A surly guy with a permanent frown.” Will collapsed onto the nearby sofa, suddenly exhausted.

  “Did he project fear into your heart and tower over you with his hulking shoulders?” Maya asked as she came out of the bedroom.

  “Yeah, that’s the guy.” Will sighed.

  “Well he’s our boss on this job too, and he wasn’t happy at all to have outside help.” She leaned against the bar and swiped Thatcher’s half-empty glass, gulping the remains in one quick motion.

  “Hey! I thought you were watching your carbs!”

  “Fuck it. I’m going to need to carbo-load for this next bit,” she muttered as she wiped her mouth with the backside of her hand.

  “You guys roll up the carpets for me, I need to set everything up for the spell.”

  “Okay, I’m going to be in the center of this circle, and I need you to protect me in case we get interrupted. Do any of you know first aid? Things might go badly, blood magic isn’t something to work with lightly, you always have to give and take in equal measure.”

  Thatcher looked at Ison. He didn’t like the sound of any of this.

  Maya was standing in the center of a neatly drawn chalk pentagram. Her tools were the tequila bottle of blood, the dagger she’d lent to Park to kill the wolf, and a chalice made of glass. It looked suspiciously like a wine glass, but he was out of his element and wasn’t going to ask any questions. Ison, on the other hand, was more fascinated than worried. He watched as his friend hung on to every word and action Maya took in preparing the space for the ritual.

  “What does this pentagram signify? Does it draw energy? Why a glass chalice? Why not a cauldron, that’s what witches use right? A cauldron?”

  To her credit, Maya answered every question with patience. “A pentagram is a protection symbol. If I work inside of it, I’ll be protected from harm and can keep any negative energy that comes from this contained within it. It’s very complex, I have a book you can read when we get back to my office. We do use cauldrons for lots of things. In this case, the chalice is ceremonial. It represents the element of water and we use it to hold liquids. Unfortunately, Merle’s blood is more of a goo than a liquid.”

  She looked at Park with a tiny glint of uncertainty in her eyes. “I need you guys to know that I’m not much in the spells and rituals department. With my powers, I never needed to master the basics. If you want to step out until this part is over, I don’t blame you. Things could get dicey.”

  Park widened his stance as he planted himself firmly on the border of Maya’s pentagram,”I’m not going anywhere. I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff, this is just another notch on my belt.”

  Ison, positioned himself opposite of Thatcher and nodded.

  Maya exhaled. “Let’s do this.”

  The blood ritual was fairly straightforward. Maya dumped Merle’s congealed blood into the chalice and to everyone’s horror used the tip of her dagger to cut into the palm of her hand. The pain wasn’t anything to write home about, her dagger was sharp so the cut was smooth and quick. The pain came as she balled her fist to squeeze out as much blood as she could to mix with Merle’s in the chalice. Next came the squeamish part. She hesitated, and to her dismay, Thatcher noticed.

  “Are you about to do what I think you’re about to do?”

  “Yeah, a vampire can share their memories when they share blood. A vampire drinks from another vampire and it’s like their own social network. They can also absorb memories from their victims when they drain them. If I drink this and say the incantation, it could work for me too.”

  “But you’d be the only one to see everything. Shouldn’t one of us do it too?” His words caught in his throat. Drinking blood was not something on his bucket list.

  “It’s too risky. As a witch, I have a better tolerance for certain things. Poisons, injuries, illness, I can recover a lot quicker than you can. Vampire blood is classified as a poison. The best thing you can do is intervene if I react badly.”

  “Isn’t that something you should have went over with us before the vision quest?”

  Thatcher was right. Maya bit her bottom lip sheepishly, “I’m telling you now. If I lose consciousne
ss or have a seizure, you need to mix up that brown powder in my bag and give it to me. It’s an antidote.”

  “For the record, I hate this.” Park folded his arms across his chest as if to drive home his disapproval.

  Maya rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the blood in the chalice. “Lamia memoria memoriter,” she chanted as she forced herself to gulp the gelatinous mass. As soon as the salty tang of blood touched her lips, she fought the urge to vomit. This was necessary. Within seconds, she dropped to her knees, pain ripping through her insides, it was all she could do to keep from screaming. Despite her efforts, a desolate moan escaped just before she fell completely to the floor and started convulsing.

  Both Will and Park reacted to the sudden downturn of events. As soon as Maya began to falter, Park rushed to her side, catching her as she went into a violent seizure and cradling her gently but firmly so she wouldn’t injure herself.

  Will rushed to the bag she had indicated earlier and found the powder she’d mentioned. “Should I give it now? Shit, how do we give it? Do I mix it with anything? How much?”

  Will was numbers and precision guy, it wasn’t in his wheelhouse to improvise. Park, however, was all improv. “Once she stops convulsing, mix it with something and we’ll hope for the best.”

  Ison nodded and grabbed an empty glass from the bar. Just as he was about to mix the antidote with water, Maya gasped for air.

  Once she’d forced herself to keep the blood potion down, Maya immediately regretted her actions. Her body instantly started to reject it before she lost complete control. She felt herself falling, but was powerless to stop it. Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t see anything. Panic spread through her. Instead of hitting the floor, she landed softly. Thatcher. While her body failed, her mind began to travel and her senses of smell and hearing heightened. She could hear both Thatcher and Ison’s quickened heartbeats over their frantic yelling. She could tell Park was still holding her steady, even though she couldn’t see it. She could smell his fear. I wonder if this is how all prey smells? It was repugnant to her. She tried to move again, to speak out loud, but nothing happened when she opened her mouth. She wanted to yell out at them that the spell was working. At least she hoped it was. Heightened hearing and smell were vampire traits, just as agility and sight were. She wondered if she would acquire those as well. All the nerve endings in her body were on fire as the potion worked its way through. Suddenly, her senses no longer detected her partners, but new occupants.