The Turned

by A A Mize

  Monster? What was she thinking? It was crazy! Absolutely crazy! She rubbed her face with her hands. If she hadn’t woken up in a fair amount of pain, she might have thought the night before was just a bad dream. But the way she felt she knew it was no simple nightmare she had suffered.

  Her things lay heaped into bags on the floor by the bed, half packed. For some reason she couldn’t make herself finish the job. Why couldn’t things be the way they were twenty-four hours before? Better yet, after what had happened, why was she gripping to the past? She had to go.

  “Soph?” Lukas knocked gently on her door. “You up?”

  Sophie remained quiet for a moment, moving from the window to her bed. The sky had already begun to darken, the sun casting purple shadows across the street. Dusk was fast approaching and with the night came the answers to questions she had been pondering in the hours since Yvette had attacked her.

  “Yeah, I’m up.”

  “Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”

  “Sure.” She shrugged, spinning Dominic’s ring as a means of distraction when Lukas entered. They hadn’t spoken since he left the bar, though a part of her had wanted to. It was strange looking to Dominic for any sort of protection when Lukas was the one who had taken care of her since she arrived in the city. She had found a friend in him.

  “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, motioning to her shoulder.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Silence passed between them and Sophie’s stomach twisted into knots. Talking to him yesterday had been so easy but now that he was standing feet from her she found she had nothing to say. A part of her felt angry with him. He should have been there to protect her. Following that there was guilt. She had no right to ask him to do that for her and no reason to assume that he would. The emotions conflicted, and she knew she was making things tense between them. She wanted to hug him, to tell him what had happened and get it off her chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him.

  She didn’t have to. He threw his arms around her. Sophie hated how easily the tears came and even more so how much she wanted to hide in his embrace. Slowly he rocked her while she cried herself out.

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with her. If I had even had a passing thought she would hurt you like that—” Lukas said, stroking her hair.

  “You couldn’t have known what she was going to do.”

  “Are you leaving?” he asked, noticing her bags.

  “I think so. I don’t know if I can stay here after last night.”

  “Look, don’t make your decision yet. Come downstairs and listen to what we have to say and you can decide after that. It’s time you got an explanation,” Lukas said, taking her hands gently he pulled her up from the bed. “What we have to say is a lot to take in, but we’ll try to be as straightforward as possible.”

  Sophie followed Lukas down into the living room where Dominic stood at the hearth, gazing absently into the fire. Nimble fingers swirled a glass of red wine as they approached him and sat on the couch across from him. He moved from the hearth to make himself comfortable in his favorite wing backed chair.

  “I’ve thought of how to explain to you what you saw last night, but I’m not sure how to condense what I know. I think we should start at the beginning. My name is Rowan. My human alias is Dominic Lacroix. This is my Pupil, Matthias. Lukas, as you know him.”

  “Human alias?”

  “We have a birth name, the one that our parents gave us when we were born as humans. Like, your name is Sophie Daines, right?” Lukas said. “Then, when you’re Turned, the person who Turned you gives you a new name. We have our version of picture ID and on that card they mark you by your first name and then a sort of family tree. Lists your Mentor, and any Pupils you might have. We get new human aliases every ten years or so, just to be sure that no one gets suspicious about us not aging. So like, my birth name is Lukas Toland Beaumont. Rowan named me Matthias. That’s my Turned name.”

  “So, do I still call you Lukas and Dominic, or…?” Sophie asked.

  “I guess you can call me whatever you want. Just remember that humans only know me as Lukas. Same with Rowan. Any humans he’s associated with only know him as Dominic except the people he works with now. He’ll have to change jobs now that he has a new identity.”

  “I think I like Matthias and Rowan,” she said. It made her feel like she was in on their secret.

  “Fine by me.”

  “Perhaps it might be better if you were to ask some questions,” Rowan said.

  Sophie inhaled slowly, unsure of where to start. Her questions were innumerable, but for now she needed a solid starting place, if not a simple one. “Alright Rowan. What are you?”

  Rowan nodded understandingly, gazing into the ruby red depths of his wine. “Humans have called us ‘vampires’ for centuries. However, we call ourselves the Turned. I suppose the basics are the same, though. We feed from humans in order to survive, even if we are no longer permitted to take the lives of our prey due to our own laws mixing with the laws of humans.”

  Sophie held out a hand to stop him. “Wait, what do you mean laws of humans?”

  “Your government has known of us for quite some time. I know that must be difficult to accept. Why would your leaders allow us to hunt among you? Fear. There is no other answer I can give. When the treaties were signed, humans were no match for us. If they would have risen against us in the hope of destroying us, we would have dispatched anyone that stood between us and survival. Still, we need humans for that survival, and so a compromise was made. We may hunt as we please, but we are rather heavily regulated. Unless we go Rogue, every move we make is documented.”

  “Yeah, Rowan is the Leader over the Quarter, so he only has to do official paperwork, but I’m considered a ‘Lesser’ so I have to write in a journal at least four times a week and turn it in to our officials at the end of the year. Total drag,” Matthias said.

  “Leader? What does that mean? You’re like, the boss or something?”

  “Somethin’ like that.”

  “It’s my responsibility to take care of the Quarter,” Rowan explained. “I keep tabs on any Turned that come in and make sure they follow the laws while they are here. I generally don’t interfere with others while they are within my territory unless they are causing trouble. If Rogues move through, it is my responsibility to chase them off or kill them before they can cause too much damage to our delicate society. There isn’t too much that I’m permitted to explain about our inner workings so be aware that I might not be able to delve deeply into that.”

  “Alright. Rogue. What does that mean? Is that....is that what Yvette is?” Sophie asked.

  “She should be after that shit she pulled,” Matthias said.

  “No, Yvette is not officially a Rogue, though I do plan on speaking to Samiell about it. Basically, a Rogue is any Turned that lives outside of our code of conduct. Most of the time, they are repeat offenders, though, breaking the laws regularly. Many of them are mercenaries. They have no true home, either, as they don’t usually carry identification. Many are nameless, in a sense, and they are extremely hard to track because of this. I dispatch them when I can. Clear up the riffraff, you know,” Rowan said.

  Sophie sat back into the couch. “This is overwhelming. Nameless, identification, Rogues...” She sighed, afraid she was getting lost in a tidal wave of new information.

  “I know, it’s a lot,” Matthias said.

  “Vampires in New Orleans. Who’d have thought?” Sophie stated sarcastically.

  “I know, right? I’m living a cliché.”

  Rowan was not amused, his expression cut his Pupil’s laughter short. “It’s not a cliché; it’s by design. The Elder Council has a team of artists and writers all over the world that keep our existence in the realm of fiction. New Orleans is home to many Turned for various reasons. There aren’t too many of us here in comparison to cities such as New York or Los Angeles, but the city doe
s hold a certain allure than many of our kind find irresistible.”

  “You mean Turned who like to wear weird things can walk around comfortably. I know a few who like the attention,” Matthias grinned.

  “As do I. Now, Sophie. Is there anything else you wish you know?” Rowan asked.

  “What about sunlight,” Sophie began tentatively, gazing over at Matthias curiously. “If you go out in the sun do you...you know...”

  “Sparkle?” Matthias asked, an easy grin curving his lips.

  “Absolutely not,” Rowan stated, slamming his wine glass down on the hearth, his eyes flashing at his young Pupil. With a harsh exhale, he regained his composure, closing his eyes to focus himself before continuing. “We do not sparkle,” he said, his voice thick with disdain.

  “No, no... I was going to ask if it’ll kill you. Will you, like...burn to death?” Sophie corrected as Matthias wiped the tears from his eyes. It didn’t seem he could contain his laughter, even under Rowan’s threatening gaze.

  “It’s dangerous, but not necessarily deadly unless the exposure is long term. We burn quite easily, and those burns can be severe. Going out in the day is possible, however certain requirements must be met for our safety,” Rowan answered dryly, never taking his eyes off Matthias.

  “Yeah, Rowan forgot to close the curtain in his study last week. Instant sunburn,” Matthias laughed.

  “So, sunlight can kill you but it takes a lot. What about the old stake through the heart thing?.”

  “That’s tricky,” Matthias said. “Piercing the heart or decapitation are sure ways to kill us but it doesn’t have to be a stake. Just about anything would do it but silver is the worst. Cut me with a knife and I’ll heal in less than an hour. Cut me with silver… well, if you cut me deep enough I’d be screwed.”

  “Wounds caused by silver heal extremely slowly. If the wound is deep enough, the Turned could bleed out and die in a matter of a couple short hours. Now, I believe that’s enough. It’s time for you to go to work now, Matthias. Please inform Ms. Benoit that Sophie has taken ill and will need the night off. As for you,” Rowan turned to address Sophie, “I need to know what the police have told you about Rachel.”

  “Not much. They said she died of exposure to the elements.”

  “Sophie, the police have lied to you. You must understand, they aren’t trying to be deceptive, but they are bound by certain rules. Those in the police department who know of the Turned are not permitted to speak of us to civilians. They make up stories about victims that are killed by my kind, and they have done this to you as well. They are searching for a Turned.”

  “That explains a lot. I got a feeling that something was wrong and the way they’ve kept Rachel’s boyfriend in custody after getting the coroner’s report didn’t make sense to me. One of the officers asked where I was staying. I knew her reaction was strange. I guess now I know why.”

  “You will be with me tonight,” Rowan stated. “I was called in by the city’s Homicide division to speak with the owner of the last bar Rachel was seen in. He’s a Turned named Artashir and he is extremely loyal to me. I got the feeling while I was there that he wasn’t giving me the whole story about what happened that night. I firmly believe that continuing the investigation into your cousin’s death at the Iron Lotus is the right move.”

  “Are you sure, Rowan? Why don’t you let her stay here and rest,” Matthias urged but Rowan ignored him. Sophie didn’t miss the way Matthias’ forehead wrinkled but he kept his mouth shut tight.

  “I’m sorry, but she can’t. I am not sure where Yvette is, and she’ll be far safer with me than staying here alone. Gather your coat and shoes, it’ll be cold tonight.” He drained his glass and exited the living room, leaving Matthias and Sophie sitting in silence on the couch.

  Matthias bounced his knee. He had known it was only a matter of time before Rowan dug deeper into Rachel’s death, and soon enough the trail would lead to him. Soon Sophie would know he fed from Rachel. That he’d seen her the night she died. His stomach churned and for an instant he thought he might vomit. He propped his elbow on the arm of the couch, placing his hand over his lips to keep the feeling at bay.

  “Are you all right?” Sophie asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just be careful out there,” he replied, faking a smile and kissing her forehead before grabbing his coat and heading out the door, not giving Sophie any time to speak to him further. He tilted his head back as he walked, breathing deeply through his mouth to control the urge to cry.

  The friendship they forged was on the line and Matthias wished he’d have listened to Rowan and kept his distance from the beginning. Sophie now knew what it meant to be fed from without easing the pain and it would certainly be the way she would envision Matthias feeding from her dear cousin if she found out what he had done. He wanted to run; to pack up and get out of the city as soon as possible but it wasn’t an option. The cops would be on him in a heartbeat, followed closely by Rowan and the Elders. And Mamma… he couldn’t leave here behind no matter how much he wanted to hide from what was happening.

  Deep down, he was sure he hadn’t committed the murder. He stuck by his story that she had walked with him to the taxi and that there was another woman present. If Rowan could get to the bottom of it all soon, the whole ordeal would be over. He didn’t doubt that his Mentor was capable of outmaneuvering Walker. The murder charge was likely to be dropped but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be collateral damage. A tightening in his chest made it difficult to breathe, as if a hand crushed him from his throat to his heart.

  The truth was lurking in the shadows with teeth bared in an evil grin, ready to pounce and tear his life to shreds. He knew there was no running from it, but it didn’t make staring down the devil any easier.

  26

  Sophie pulled her coat tight against the wind, her breath escaping her lips in pale wisps. The night had grown bitterly cold, the humidity in the air chilling her to the bone. It was a miracle her teeth weren’t chattering.

  Rowan, however, had no reaction to the cold at all. He strode along, hands shoved deep in his pockets, but with no sign of a shiver, or even a wisp of breath. The only indication that he was even aware of the temperature was his comment as they left the house that although it was unusually cold for New Orleans, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been in the winter of 1899.

  Not that she cared much about a day that happened to be colder, she only cared about how numb her fingers were. The need to know what happened to Rachel kept her from retreating to the warmth of the house. Finding the killer was his responsibility since the Quarter was his territory, but she wondered if he cared in any way to solve it for her sake.

  They had made the trek in almost complete silence, and although Sophie was still brimming with questions about Turned culture, she felt it unwise to ask him about it in public. Instead, she watched people cross Rowan without even a sideways glance, with the exception of a few individuals that fancied him in passing. Otherwise, he moved through them as if he were one of them. They had no idea what kind of creature they were rubbing shoulders with and Sophie found herself wondering how many Turned she had come across in her lifetime.

  “What do you think?” Rowan asked, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings. It was obvious that he meant the city in its entirety, not just the crowded narrow street that they traversed.

  Sophie grinned widely, allowing her gaze to drift about to the many different shops and people that surrounded them. “I’m in love,” she admitted. “You know, I’ve lived in Jackson, Mississippi, my whole life and I’ve never felt compelled to come here. Not even once. Not even when Anna lived her. But now that I’m here, I don’t know how I could ever live anywhere else. It’s so raw, and gritty but also overwhelmingly beautiful.”

  She could see Rowan observing her from the corner of her eye and when she gazed up at him she saw the golden light of street lamps reflecting in his eyes. Still she felt the city was hers. She was only a small part of it
, an insignificant blot on the map, but in her heart New Orleans was her soul in the form of brick and mortar and salt-stained wood. He looked away quickly, clearing his throat.

  “Have you changed your mind then? Will you stay in New Orleans?”

  “If I can, I’d like to. Not sure how my mom would take it, though. She has a heart condition and since my dad died, Anna, Rachel, and I have been helping her around the house when we can. I assume it’ll be harder now since it’s just Anna and me.”

  “It’s been centuries since my family was laid to rest,” he stated quietly.

  “All of them? What about descendants or something? Surely someone from the bloodline is still around. I thought I had a small family until I tried one of those family tree websites.”

  “There are many descendants, I’m sure. My brother had many children of his own. I know there are a couple of his descendants right here in New Orleans. A father and son.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” Sophie said. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. I wouldn’t have any reason to know something like that.”

  “It’s not stupid. It was simply a statement. And no, you would have no reason to know that.” Rowan said, staring ahead.

  “Have you met any of your brother’s descendants? I mean, if they live here in the city I’d think you would have at least run into them.”

  “I know the son well. The father, however, is unsavory,” Rowan said the word as if it was bitter. “We’re almost there.”

  “How did you find out where Rachel was last seen?”

  Rowan glanced around and once he was sure no one was in earshot of their conversation, he answered. “As the Leader of this area, the police must come to me with problems concerning my kind. Your cousin had a bar stamp on her hand for this very bar, which is run by one of my many loyal Lesser, Artashir. I got the feeling that Artashir was withholding something from me. Not that I believe he did so to betray me, I’m sure it’s information he’s kept for my ears only.” Rowan grinned, seemingly prideful of his friend’s loyalty. “Of course, I could have extracted the information I wanted when I was here, but Artashir would not have been happy with me. Trust inspires loyalty, you know.”