by Jen Pretty
I turned back and narrowed my eyes at them. It was their fault that this got so out of hand in the first place. They disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Frankie, a snoring Singh and me alone in the giant warehouse.
I wanted to lay down beside Frankie, but a dead witch lay in a pool of blood beside us.
Frankie pushed off the ground with a groan, probably at my unspoken thoughts and I rose to assist him. I pulled his arm over my shoulder and helped him to the door to the apartments. As we walked out of the warehouse, Singh hot on our heels, the candles that lined the walls flickered out. The strange space was definitely a place of magic.
We climbed the stairs slowly, and I helped Frankie onto the couch. As he groaned and slumped down, I reached into my pocket to pull out my cell phone. I still hadn’t heard from Vincent.
My phone was once again smashed. The screen was a spider web of cracks, and the case was bent. At my current rate, Vincent would start making me buy my own phones.
“I doubt that, Lark.” I smiled at Frankie’s mind reading. “My phone is on my nightstand,” he said.
I walked through his room. It smelled like him. His phone was where he said it was and I picked it up and dialed Vincent. The phone kept ringing, so I hung up and called Cedric.
“Yes,” Cedric’s voice came through the line.
“Hey, where are you guys?” I asked.
“God, Lark. We are looking for you.”
“Sorry, had a bit of a run in and broke my phone,” I replied before turning and walking back out to the living room.
Frankie was now on the floor beside the couch, and Singh was flaked out on the couch, his toes twitching in sleep.
I laughed at the ridiculous lion. He was such a cat.
“Where are you? We can come pick you up,” Cedric said through the phone.
“Actually, can you send a cleanup crew to Arnie’s? It’s a mess. Bennet killed Arnie. He’s in the storeroom. I’m at Frankie’s place. I can't get ahold of Vincent, though.” I sat down at the kitchen island and started pulling my boots off.
“Uh, Lark. We should come and get you.”
“Why?”
“Something happened,” he said.
“What? What happened?”
“It’s your studio, Lark,” he said, sounding very serious.
“What the fuck happened at my studio?”
“We’re on our way. Be there in ten.” He hung up. I set the phone down and pulled my shoes back on, tying the laces.
“What is it?” Frankie asked from the living room. He was still sitting on the floor.
“I don’t know, something happened at the studio.” I stood up and walked back into the living room. “Will you be ok here for a bit? You don’t have any dizziness or feel like you might pass out?” I asked.
“I’m fine Lark. I need some rest. Can you help me to my bed before you go? This oaf kicked me off the couch.”
“He’s done that to me too. Overgrown house cat.” I giggled, helping Frankie to his feet again and down the hall to his bed. I tucked him in, said goodbye and shut his door so he didn’t end up with a cat in his bed.
I walked down the stairs and out the garage door just as the team pulled into the alley in the big van. I slid the back door open and popped inside.
“Where is Vlad?” I asked. Only Drew, Cedric and Darya were inside.
No one spoke.
“What happened at the studio?” I asked, trying to
to get a response from someone.
“Vlad is just holding down the fort. It’s better if we just get there, ok?” Cedric said as he peeled out of the alley and turned the radio up to stop my questions.
I didn’t understand but tried not to think about it as the van cruised through the city and out to the suburbs. I closed my eyes for a moment but opened them again as we slowed down. Police officer ahead directed traffic. Farther down the street, smoke billowed up into the sky.
“What happened?” I recognized where we were and realized that the smoke was coming from my studio.
Without waiting for the van to stop completely, I slid open the door and jumped out. I ran past the officer who I recognized as a vampire. He didn’t try to stop me, just kept waving traffic through a detour.
My legs burned, and my heart raced with adrenaline. Durga urged me to go faster. I stopped in front of the burned-out shell. Broken glass covered the parking lot like sparkling diamonds. It didn’t just burn. It was blown up. The walls stood at angles, and the roof was caved in. Smoke billowed from the rubble. Firemen poured water onto the smoking ruins, preventing it from bursting back into flames. Police officers held back the small crowd and an ambulance was standing by, but there was nothing left of my perfect sanctuary. I collapsed to the ground beside the fire truck with its lights flashing. Vernon was here in my city again. This was exactly his style.
I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. I sent out my senses and sifted through all the vampires in the city and the state and then the whole south-west. He was gone. I pulled my senses back in. How could he have gotten so far away so fast? He had to have been here.
Then I realized Vincent hadn’t lit up anywhere in my search. I quickly looked for him again. By now a few vampires were standing nearby, watching me, but I ignored them. I couldn’t find Vincent. He was gone too. Apparently, a lot had happened while I was busy cleaning up the magical mess.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Lark,” said a vampire I recognized from the house.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “You mean the studio?”
“No, I meant… Uhm, you know. R-Randy.” He stuttered. “He was kind of yours, was he not?”
I covered my mouth and glanced back to the wreckage. It was late at night, nearly morning, really. But Randy had been staying all hours to make up schedules and design advertising campaigns.
“Oh, no,” I whispered.
A fireman came back to the truck and asked me some questions. The vampire who had told me about Randy answered them and explained I was in shock over the loss of my friend and business. I was in shock. Durga tried to push anger at me, but I held on to the sadness.
Randy was the first vampire I trusted. He was brilliant in his way and a light in the darkness.
“Lark,” Trevor whispered as he crashed down beside me, his sharp knees hitting hard on the pavement. “Are you ok, Lark?” He slung his arms around me, and the sobs started. Trevor was the broken boy, but only his thin arms held me together as I let the pain flood over me. It was too much. Randy didn’t deserve this. He was as innocent as Trevor. He had never hurt anyone, and Vernon came in here and blew him up in a safe place. This was a place of peace and internal reflection. And now it was a pile of rubble.
“Maybe he got out,” I sobbed. He was durable, surely the bomb didn’t kill him.
“They already found him. His neck was severed by a piece of glass,” Trevor whispered.
I stood up and stumbled to the grass where I promptly vomited. I continued to dry heave, my eyes filled with tears and, sobs shook my body.
I closed my eyes when my body settled, and Durga appeared in the darkness. She had a look of sadness on her face too. Then her face changed to one of anger. She bared her teeth, and her eight arms waved violently like streamers in a hurricane. She was sitting on Singh in my vision, and he roared, though there was no sound.
Vengeance would be ours.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cedric showed up in the van and gathered me in his arms. He carried me away from my old studio and the last place I had seen my first vampire friend.
I didn’t have anything left in me. I sat numb in the back seat of the van, as he drove us back to Vincent’s mansion.
“Where is he?” I asked as we stopped at the house. “I know he isn’t here.”
Cedric looked away from me. “He left a note.” Then he turned and walked towards the mansion. I followed him up the stairs, into the house and down the hall to Vincent’s office.
Wh
en I walked through the door, Vlad sat in his chair. He looked at me with sadness and handed me an envelope.
Inside was a credit card – I already had two – and a letter. I sat down in the chair in front of the desk and read it. His penmanship was glorious.
Dear Lark,
I apologize for leaving without saying goodbye. Please know, I would not have chosen to leave this way, if there was a choice. I intend to end my brother's reign of terror and cannot do that from behind my desk. I have stood by long enough and now must act.
Please, I beg of you, stay in the city and aid Vlad. There is much turmoil and this business with my brother should not take up so much of your time. I will gather other members of my family and hunt him down.
I hope to return to you soon.
My love, always,
Vincent.
He was going to chase his fallen brother around the globe. I sat back in my chair. It was exactly what Frankie did with his father. Because, you know, that worked out so well for him.
Frankie appeared in the office, speak of the devil.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Do you just pop in when I think about you?”
“Were you thinking about me?” he replied with a sly smile.
I shook my head. “Vernon blew up my studio, killed Randy and now Vincent has gone after him,” I replied, numb to the information. I looked up when Frankie didn’t respond.
He looked a bit better already. It couldn’t have been an hour since I left him, asleep in his bed. He should still be resting.
“Your lion was licking my face. It was gross,” he said to my unspoken concern.
I turned back to Vlad. “I’m not going to let him go off by himself. That’s ridiculous.”
“Men in love often do foolish things,” Vlad said in his Russian accent.
“I do need your help in this city, Lark. If you must go, take your parka. It is winter in Russia.”
I smiled at the crazy old vampire.
“Great, I love snow.”
The End
A Lark in The Night Copyright © 2018 by Jen Pretty. All rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by KUDI designs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Printing: December 2018
ISBN 978-1-775-2906-4-3