by A A Mize
There he went again, thinking only of himself. Thinking only of what he would lose. Matthias cursed at himself, gripping the scarred edge of the bar. This was his problem. He said he loved people—like Mamma and Sophie—and yet they suffered for his lifestyle. The lies, manipulations, and addiction were monsters of his own to deal with and he knew the hand of fate was caused by none other than himself. Everything that was happening in his life was his fault and he didn’t deserve pity from anyone, least of all himself.
Sophie was the one who was really suffering. Everything she was going through was a direct result of his addiction to thrills. New Year’s with his human friends hadn’t been intense enough for him. He had been so restless, wanting something more to bring in the new year. Rachel had been that spark in his night, heightening his excitement to the next level. It never crossed his mind that night that the spark she brought would cause a wildfire to consume everything.
Matthias slipped into his coat as he mustered up the courage to trek across the Quarter toward home. He locked up the bar and headed along the longer path, hoping to avoid too many people. A little alone time to think about how he was going to apologize to Sophie was much needed. His first thought was to take some food home to her as a gift, but before he could, he scented something in the air…something just beyond the smell of old wood and imminent rain.
Blood. Faint and old. The stagnant stench almost made him gag. He pressed the sleeve of his coat to his nose and mouth, coughing out the scent. As he walked the smell got stronger, until he eventually had to stop and brace himself on a wall. His head began to reel, stomach on the verge of heaving up what little contents it contained. Sweat beaded his forehead, trickling down into his eyes. Never before had he felt so sick in his life and it all stemmed from that terrible smell.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and he felt a few drops of cool rain on his skin. If the rain would hurry up, maybe it would mask the smell of rancid blood and he could make it to the safety of his own home.
Something was terribly wrong. For the first time since he left the bar he really took a look at his surroundings. Lights around him were flickering out, curtains were all drawn in the houses, and not a single human could be seen anywhere. It even sounded strange; as if his head was in a bubble that made everything outside of it sound muffled and watery.
Matthias turned his back to the brick wall, looking around for the source of all that power. Someone was coming, fog swirling around them where there had previously not been any. A chill ran down Matthias’s spine at the sight of the shadow, still a faceless form in the darkness. His enhanced vision couldn’t even make out the features. The stranger was just a silhouette.
The form was obviously male, with a top hat and duster coat. He hobbled along slowly, a long thin cane supporting his every move. Fog twisted around the figure as if he had a force field that prevented it from touching him, and yet it seemed to caress his body, going so far as to stretch all the way up to his shoulders before dissipating.
Although the unknown man was leaning on the cane so dependently, Matthias was certain the stranger was Turned and stronger than he appeared. He could feel it deep down and everything that was happening around him only strengthened that theory, from the penetrating darkness, to the smell that seeped into every pore.
“Who are you?” Matthias called out. Whoever it was, he was extremely powerful to be manipulating so much of the environment on such a large scale.
The man did not answer, only laughed; a deep, gurgling sound as he continued to approach. When he was a few yards away he stopped, tilting his head at Matthias like a curious dog, his eyes shining vibrant red from the inky blackness.
“My name is not important, Pupil of Rowan. You walk around demanding answers with authority, but your Mentor is weak. He does not deserve the Quarter,” the shadow snarled, some of his features finally coming into view. His face was old, with thick black mutton chops, blood-red lips, and bushy eyebrows. He had not just one set of fangs, but two side by side on the top and bottom.
“You talk a lot of shit, old man,” Matthias growled through his grin, allowing his own fangs to show. As far as Turned went, he was practically a newborn, but even Rowan had said he was powerful. A protégé. Muscling past the terrible smell, Matthias pushed off of the wall to stand in the middle of the sidewalk, facing the nameless Turned.
The man laughed again then attacked. In a split second he was on top of Matthias, cane striking the younger Turned hard across his cheek, splitting the flesh from ear to mouth. The crack from the blow echoed from the brick walls and the impact made Matthias’s ears ring as he stumbled sideways to his knees.
Matthias caught the second blow in his fist, feeling the palm of his hand bruising instantly. He cut his eyes up toward the stranger and licked the corner of his mouth where blood dribbled from his wound. Anger filled Matthias and he grabbed the cane with both hands in an attempt to pull it from the old man.
However, those aged hands held more strength than he could have imagined, and the man pulled the cane, jerking Matthias up to his feet once more. He spun his young prey into the wall, cracking Matthias’s head and shoulders on the unforgiving brick. The wind was knocked out of Matthias, but he quickly regained himself and pushed back against the cane as the old man leaned forward to bite him with those double fangs, gnarled and yellow in what little light was left on the street.
No matter what happened, Matthias knew he didn’t want this Turned to bite him. When the stranger opened his mouth, Matthias immediately knew where the scent of decay was coming from. It smelled as if this Turned had been dining on nothing but dead bodies for a good long while. The smell alone was so strong that Matthias’s urge to vomit distracted him, allowing the stranger to gain the upper hand. With little effort, he slung Matthias to the ground and within a second he was standing over him, striking him relentlessly with the metal cane.
Matthias felt the cane crack bone, bruise flesh, and draw blood in some places, but he was too proud to scream out. He gritted his teeth, grabbing for the cane as it came down once more. As soon as his fingers caught the cool metal he ripped it from the old man’s hand and threw it across the street, his own rage taking control. All he wanted was to tear out the old Turned’s throat with his bare hands.
Fire erupted from the stranger’s fingertips in a searing hot ball that streaked through the night and into Matthias’s thigh, where it burned a hole through his pants and singed his flesh in a black ring. At that he cried out, stopping himself by clamping his teeth together.
Fire manipulation wasn’t a difficult ability to learn, but even Rowan had said that fire leaving its creator’s hand was impossible without something to catch fire to, such as kindling or a candle wick. If Matthias survived, he’d have to rub that in his Mentor’s face. Turns out ol’ Rowan didn’t know everything after all.
Matthias rolled out of the way of the next burst of flame, his vision filled with stars as broken bones ground against one another. A human surely would have passed out from the pain, but Matthias wasn’t so lucky as to escape the torment. Perhaps that was for the best though, as being unconscious would only ensure his own demise. This stranger didn’t just want to fight, he wanted to kill.
Another ball of fire struck his back, right between his shoulder blades, catching fire to his coat.
Matthias rolled onto his back to smother the flame but the damage had already been done. He could feel the gritty pavement under him where the coat and his shirt had been burned away, leaving a tender patch of skin exposed to the elements. This stranger had to be stopped, or Matthias would die out in the street.
Concentrating as much as he could with the older Turned hurling fire at him, Matthias reached out, eyes closed, grasping at the mind of the stranger. It took only a moment to latch on and when he closed his fist he also closed the trap on the other Turned’s mind. The fireballs stopped, and Matthias slowly opened his eyes, gritting his teeth, not just from pain, but from the strain of intens
e concentration.
Latching onto the stranger’s mind, Matthias began to overload the senses, forcing him to endure the same pain Matthias was feeling. The older man screamed, knobby fingers grasping at his ribs as he slowly sank to the ground. Rage boiled under the surface for Matthias; although he had held up pretty well against the stronger Turned, his pride was shattered at nearly being defeated in his own Mentor’s territory. This was their land, their hunting ground, and Matthias would show this intruder why they deserved it.
Teeth clenched tight, eyes flashing, Matthias continued his onslaught. He forced a massive migraine on top of the pain he was already relaying, as well as heightened sensory overload until the lights down the street began to flicker back on. The intruder grasped at his head, eyes bulging from their sockets, thick black blood leaking from his tear ducts. In a matter of moments, the lights came back on and the old Turned lay motionless on the sidewalk in a small puddle of sickly smelling blood.
Matthias panted hard, releasing his mental grasp on the now dead Turned. Rain began to fall, washing away the terrible smells and Matthias lay his head back on the pavement. The sun would rise soon, and he was still several blocks from home and terribly injured. Rest is for the dead, he thought as he forced himself shakily to his knees. Skipping meals was certainly doing him no favors, as he could tell his healing process was severely slowed. If he didn’t look so terrible there was a chance he could have caught some prey on the way home and set his body on the mend. That option went out the window as soon as his coat had caught fire.
With his ragged appearance, no decent human would let him come near them and the last thing he needed was a junkie. Being high on top of badly injured would certainly seal his fate unless he happened to be fortunate enough for a friendly Turned to find him and take him home. There was no chance in hell he was going to take that gamble after what he had just endured.
Matthias pulled out his phone to call for help, only to find it broken nearly in half. He cursed quietly to himself and shoved the now useless phone into his coat pocket. He would have to get home on his own.
If he wanted to beat the sun, he would have to get up and leave immediately. The walk home was bound to be excruciating but there was one thing he had to do first. He searched the pockets of the dead Turned, eyes still wide, drops of rain sliding across their glassy surface in a way that made Matthias grimace.
Within moments he found what he was looking for. A wallet. There wasn’t any money in it, which was no surprise considering the stranger smelled like he had been eating corpses, but that was the not object of his curiosity anyway. It was his ID that Matthias sought and though he didn’t have the time to go over it, he at least had what he wanted.
The wallet dropped deep into Matthias’s pocket as he rose from the ground, using the wall to steady himself. Rain slicked the sidewalk near the street, pouring from the balconies in curtains. Never before had Matthias been so happy for those old balconies and galleries.
It seemed hours had passed in the time it took him to walk the few blocks to his home and the sun had peeked over the tops of the buildings, sending Matthias staggering to the shadows. Once he could see his door from across the street he almost collapsed, his body too ready to be inside where it was safe and dry.
Somehow he managed to stay standing as he banged on the door, his vision too blurred to use his key. His body shook with cold, knees quivering under his own weight. As soon as Rowan opened the door, Matthias’s legs gave way and he tumbled into the foyer.
Rowan grasped at Matthias but when his fingers gripped his coat, the fabric gave way, twisting him onto his back before he hit the floor. Rowan dropped beside him, trying to make him focus but Matthias’s eyes only rolled back before closing.
“Matthias, are you alright? What’s happened?”
“Didn’t know him,” Matthias mumbled.
“What? I don’t understand. Sophie, wake up and get my phone. I need you to call Samiell immediately,” Rowan ordered as he dragged Matthias across the threshold and dead bolted the door.
Sophie rose from the couch, rubbing her eyes groggily. She began to ask what the commotion was about when she caught sight of Matthias lying motionless at the foot of the stairs.
“Matthias?” she gasped, racing to his side. On her knees she touched his face, her shoulders visibly relaxed when he opened his eyes and grinned at her through blood and bruises.
“You should see the other guy,” he quipped weakly.
“There will be time later for your witty banter. Sophie, call Samiell. Tell him to come urgently and to be careful,” Rowan pressed his cell into her hand, eyes locked with hers.
“Samiell doesn’t have to worry,” Matthias explained through gritted teeth. “I killed the guy that attacked me.”
“That hardly matters. If there’s one, who knows if there are more?” Rowan said.
“Okay,” Sophie muttered, searching through Rowan’s short contact list to find Samiell’s number.
Rowan helped Matthias into the living room and onto the couch where he noticed the slowly healing burn on his Pupil’s back. He grimaced and put a pillow behind Matthias although he knew it wouldn’t help. The wound was still exposed and unless he fed soon, it would remain exposed for several hours.
Sophie paced the entrance to the living room and Rowan could hear Samiell practically yelling into the phone. “Hello? Rowan? Dammit, Sarah, is this thing on?”
“Yes, Samiell? Can you hear me?” Sophie asked.
“Why hello, dearie. You don’t sound like Rowan.”
“No, my name’s Sophie, I live with him. He says he needs you to come right away, it’s an emergency, and that you should be very careful.”
“Ah yes, he’s told me about you. Very sorry for your loss. Your cousin, I mean. Eh, Rowan needs me, you say? Well then, I’ll be around shortly. Tell him not to get his knickers in a twist. See you soon, darling. Ciao.”
Sophie handed Rowan his phone, seating herself on the floor next to the couch where Matthias lay. “He says he’s coming.”
“So I heard,” Rowan said. “You’ll have to excuse Samiell. Most of us understand the importance of blending in; keeping up to date with language, technology, and such but Samiell… he never took to modern technology.”
“It’s alright. What happened to you?” she asked Matthias, peeling a lock of hair from his bloodied forehead.
“Old Turned attacked me. Said we’re weak. Don’t deserve the Quarter. Took his ID.” Matthias’ hand patted his pocket weakly, his voice cracking.
Rowan fished the wallet out of Matthias’ pocket and flipped it over, viewing the ID of a Turned he didn’t recognize. There wasn’t much else in the wallet; no money or cards. Just an old coin and a picture that was so faded he could hardly make out the three women on it.
“I didn’t start it, Rowan. Promise.”
“I believe you. When was the last time you fed? You’re not healing properly.”
Matthias rolled his head to the side, his eyes closing. He’d fought to stay awake and give Rowan the information he needed, but he couldn’t hold out. “It’s alright. Rest now. Perhaps Samiell will be kind enough to let us borrow Sarah?” he pondered, knowing the answer might be no. Not that Samiell would want Matthias to endure such pain longer than he had to, but an Elder’s personal Companion was highly revered personal prey, not a buffet for anyone to feed from.
“He can feed from me,” Sophie offered.
“I can’t allow you to do that, Sophie.”
“I don’t remember asking your permission.”
Her reply stung but she was right. It wasn’t his business what she decided to do and he had no right to feel the jealousy that gnawed at him with the thought of Matthias feeding from her. He shouldn’t fee that way. She wasn’t his.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Matthias can’t go out and hunt on his own and I don’t know this Sarah woman. No matter what’s happened, he’d my friend and I want to help him.”
She sounded determined enough but the crease in her brow and the way she bit her lip told Rowan that she wasn’t sure of her decision. “Very well,” Rowan relented, taking a place beside her. “He is weak, I don’t think he can feed on his own. I’ll have to get him started.”
Sophie didn’t reply. She stared at Matthias’ face, her fingers digging into the fabric of the couch.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to. Just do it and let’s get this over with.”
Rowan hesitated before he took her wrist in his hands. There would be no dissuading her, so he had little choice but to do as she wished. His lips grazed her warm inner wrist, then his eyes closed, and he felt her pulse beneath her skin. As gently as he could, he punctured her flesh, feeling a slight pull from her as he did. The metallic liquid was warm on his tongue, but it was not for him.
He could feel her eyes on him as he withdrew his fangs and guided her wrist to Matthias. A few drops of blood dripped on the injured man’s lips and he weakly licked them away, a bruised hand reaching up to grasp Sophie’s arm and pull it closer. Matthias’ bite must have hurt her more than his own because she flinched, her free hand gripping the edge of the couch until her knuckles were white.
Color flushed Matthias’s face, and although he could have fed more, his body was exhausted. Fangs departed Sophie’s wrist when his body finally gave in. He was asleep before his head even hit the arm of the couch. Rowan immediately licked her wound and the blood surrounding it, sealing the skin as if it had never been punctured at all.
Suddenly the house was silent again, Matthias passed out as his body struggled to heal, Sophie on the verge of sleep where she leaned against the couch. She’d been through so much. Too much. She’d given too much and had too much taken away. Without asking, Rowan lifted her from the floor, cradling her like a child in his arms. When he did, her eyes snapped open in surprise.