“They grabbed me when I looked in the closet.” Sierra folds her arms. “Tossed me into the warehouse.”
“Oh no,” whispers Sophia.
“Blix saw them go into the closet and said we needed to help.” Sam pats the imp on the head. “I didn’t know what to do, so we went to ask Olmaz.”
“What’s an Olmaz?” asks Dad.
“He’s the demon who cured Ro when he got paralyzed.”
“Demons now…” Mom looks at Dad.
“Dad.” Sam smiles. “Think of them as an extraplanar race. They’re not creatures of evil. It’s a little more common for them to be dark than us. Some are buttheads, not all.”
“So… they’re insurance adjusters?” Dad raises an eyebrow.
“Not that evil,” mutters Mom.
I lean close to my littlest sister. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just annoyed.” Sophia grumbles. “I think an outside force messed with me. All I tried to do was scry and the magic went all sorts of crazy. The bad vampire is probably a mystic, too.”
“Mew,” says Klepto.
I bite my lip. “Well, they made corpses get up and walk, so… yeah. Good chance they’re a mystic. Might want to hop in the tub.”
“Is this gunk going to wash out of the carpet if it gets anywhere?” asks Mom.
“Good question. Don’t think the stuff you use is rated for solidified nothingness.” Dad chuckles. “We could test on a small inconspicuous area of rug.”
Mom smirks at him.
Sophia looks down. “Stare too long into the void, and the void shoves you into a random body cavity of a giant octopus.”
Mom, Dad, and Sierra shiver.
“Let me carry you.” I gingerly grab her under the arms. “Mom’s not gonna like you tracking gunk across the house.”
“Is she covered in nothingness slime or ink from a giant void octopus?” asks Dad.
“Squids make ink,” says Sam. “It was a void octopus, not a void squid.”
“Look at Sam, kraken wise,” mutters Dad.
“Oh, dear.” Mom facepalms.
I grimace. “Ouch, Dad.”
He examines his fingernails. “What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good octopus pun.”
Sam and Ronan exchange ‘kill me now’ glances.
“Duh, what am I doing?” Sophia rolls her eyes.
She waves her hands around like a wizard for a few seconds. The black gunk peels off her, revealing her pink nightgown. Strands of ooze gather into a floating glob of ink jelly. Poor Klepto gets pulled away and trapped in the amorphous mass—until she reappears in a flash of teleportation sparkles once again standing on Sophia’s head, slime free.
“Can I flush this?” Sophia guides the floating mass toward the door.
“No worse than anything Sam did to the toilet,” says Sierra.
The boy laughs.
“Wait, no. It’ll clog.” Sophia gestures at the window, which opens by itself. She sends the void slime ball outside, then flings it off at blurry speed.
A man screams in the distance.
“Oops,” says Sophia.
Blix looks a little too innocent.
“Hey, Soph?” I ask. “What happened to the super sticky slime you threw out the window when you de-gunked Ronan?”
Sam rushes to the window and leans out, feet off the floor.
“No clue.” Sophia shrugs.
“Hah.” Sam snickers. “You got Mr. Niedermeyer right in the head.”
“What’s he doing in our yard?” asks Dad.
“He’s not. He’s in his front yard.” Sam ducks back in the window and closes it.
Sophia starts walking for the door, but I grab her.
“Where are you going?”
“To apologize.” She makes a sad face at me. “I didn’t want to hit anyone.”
“Apologize… and what? Admit to having magic? You can’t.”
She looks down.
Damn. Now I’m going to feel guilty for a week. Making Sophia upset is as emotionally damaging as drop-kicking bunny rabbits.
“It’s just ink. He’s fine. It’ll wash off.” Sam yawns. “It’s almost eleven. We should go to sleep.”
Mom and Dad exchange a look like they aren’t sure if anyone here ought to get grounded for anything. Dr. Spock never offered advice on how to deal with void octopi or accidental teleportation.
“Yeah. Go to bed.” Dad pats the girls on the shoulder. “You two okay or do you need to decompress?”
“I’m fine.” Sierra shrugs.
“I guess.” Sophia keeps staring at her feet. “It’s mean to throw slime on old people.”
“Soph.” I hug her. “I know, but think about it. You didn’t intend to hit him. And, how are you going to admit to being responsible without creating a whole bunch of trouble for everyone? The harm possibly caused by telling Niedermeyer about the supernatural stuff is way worse than having a face full of goop he can easily wash off.”
She exhales. “Okay. You’re right. I’m okay. It was kinda funny watching Klepto try to fight an octopus bigger than our house.”
Klepto snarls playfully.
“Okay, everyone—except Sarah. Bedtime.” Mom claps twice. “Sophia, no more scrying after dark.”
“But, Mom! It wasn’t my fault. The vampire messed with me.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” Mom guides her out of Sam’s room into the hall. “Go to bed.”
Sophia looks at Sierra, who shrugs in an ‘ugh, sure, okay’ manner. Sophia follows her into Sierra’s room. She’s a little upset, doesn’t want to sleep alone. At least I know she’s not truly scared or she’d be asking to stay with me.
I’ll take any wins we can get at this point, even if they’re small.
30
A Brittle Alliance
A promise is a promise, even if it’s potentially evil of me.
Not going to hurt anyone directly. As soon as the ’rents deescalate from DEFCON 1, I pull my sneakers on, grab the katana, and fly to Petra Stanovaya’s house. It’s not a place I ever wanted to go again. Good chance she has human captives in there. This woman is the sort of vampire responsible for medieval peasants burning us at the stake.
However, I’m too young to do anything about her, no matter how much her activities horrify me. The best I can do is hope she remains afraid enough of the Shadows to keep her need for revenge against me set aside.
Whatever she may do in response to the information I have doesn’t bother me too much considering the man who’s causing all this trouble tried to kill me and my family multiple times, plus attacked various other vampires I consider my friends.
I approach the front door of her mansion. Coming here is more nerve wracking than being on stage at my high school talent show. In fact, it’s like being a geeky kid forced to apologize to the bully who almost killed them because the bully smashed their hand while kicking my ass—and their parents are going to sue mine if I don’t. I’m not paralyzed in fear. Even if Petra decides to freak out and attack me, I have a sword. Also, considering I want no part of a fight with her and no intention to go inside her house, it should be easy for me to get away.
Jaw clenched, I ring the bell.
A moment later, a tingle runs down my spine like I’m being watched by something malevolent. The feeling fades in seconds. Not long after, the door opens to reveal Petra. I must have interrupted her doing something ‘special’ since she’s wearing a robe and likely nothing under it. She’s so pale she looks fake, like department store mannequin white.
The woman gives me this irritated ‘what do you want’ glower until she notices the katana and switches to making a ‘really?’ face.
“Please don’t mind the sword. I’m only carrying it in case the idiots causing trouble jump me again. Sorry to bother you, but I told you I’d let you know as soon as I found out who was responsible for the firebomb.”
Her expression brightens to a scary sort of gleeful. “Oh? Which one of them did it?”
>
“No one in Seattle. There’s another vampire somewhere by the name of Anselme Ernoul. He’s trying to make everyone here turn on each other and start a war.”
“I’ve heard of this man.” Petra narrows her eyes. “From the Old World. If he really is involved, it may be time for me to find another city.”
I blink. Uh oh. If someone as twisted as her is afraid of him, not a good sign. “Wow… that bad?”
She nods once. “The old ones have secrets you cannot even imagine. Look, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a charitable thought toward anyone, especially a person who ruined my art, but I’ll say this. If I were you, I’d collect my little family and stay well away from whatever Anselme wants.”
“Yeah… I wasn’t planning on being involved. Thanks. Oh, umm… just to clarify. It’s not Wolent, Stefano, Paolo, Aurélie, the Shadows, or any random punks who are messing with you.”
“I appreciate you keeping your word even though we are not friends.”
What can I say? It’s hard for me to consider taking delight in completely ruining people’s lives and turning them into hollow, shattered shells a ‘form of art.’ I give her a weak smile. “Only doing my part for vampire peace… or something.”
“Do you have any idea where he might be? Just so I know where not to go.”
Petra taps her foot. “Even you aren’t stupid enough to go after him.”
Wow, is she showing some concern for my wellbeing here? “Honest. Not my plan.”
“Ferreting out information like a good little girl for her boss.”
Shrug. “Guilty as charged.”
“As far as I am aware, he and his associates live in the Cathedral Tree Cemetery.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Not live. You know what I mean.”
“Sorry, wasn’t questioning the semantics of life versus dwelling. Never heard of Cathedral Tree Cemetery.”
“Oh.” She waves dismissively. “It’s on the outskirts of Astoria, in Oregon. Can’t say I’ve ever been there. I find graveyards woefully depressing.”
This coming from a woman who ruins lives until people want to die.
Ack. Crow and ‘Claude’ weren’t from Olympia. They had to have been flying to Seattle from Astoria. Yeah, total by chance meeting. Also, crap. I woke up chained to a tree outside Astoria. Dammit! Missed an obvious clue. Why didn’t I even think to question the location? Guess I figured a couple of random idiots just went to a patch of remote woodlands.
“Okay. Thanks.”
Petra regards me with an odd sort of look. Fingers crossed it’s her way of trying to imply she’s considering us to be ‘over.’ As in, she’s gone from wanting to destroy me and only hesitating out of fear of retaliation to simply disliking me and having no further interest in my utter ruination.
Works for me.
“Night…” I take a step back.
She recedes into the house, closing the door.
Whew. Time to get out of here. It’s not often a field mouse survives having a chat with an eagle.
31
No Longer My Problem
After making a quick stop home to grab the laptop, it’s time to fly to Wolent’s mansion.
Yeah, old vampires all seem to have mansions. So what? I don’t care. Big houses don’t impress me. They’re a pain to clean and a person can only be in one room at a time, so what’s the point of having fifty of them? I’d make a comment about property taxes, but I doubt Wolent—or any vampire—pays them. Then again, who knows? It might be less hassle to deal with it than have to re-mind-control someone every few decades.
Even though I have zero interest in ever owning a mansion, it pleases me a little to note Wolent’s house is bigger than Petra’s. They say there’s no money in art, but how profitable can draining people’s lives away to nothing be? Oh, wait. Really profitable… but she doesn’t work for the healthcare industry.
Aziz greets me at the door. I spend a little while chatting with him. He’s a sweet guy despite his size. No idea why people expect giant dudes to be either dumb as a rock or nasty. Admittedly, he is a Beast, so he can sometimes lose all control and turn into an uncontainable engine of destruction. No, not a toddler… a literal force of nature.
He must be good at controlling it since no one here ever seems afraid of him.
Anyway, I eventually go inside. One of the mortal assistants tells me Wolent is busy, and ushers me off to a sitting room to wait. I drum my fingers on the laptop. The silent room gets me worrying about what Petra said. If this Anselme Ernoul guy is a mystic and a vampire, he might be able to do that ‘scrying’ thing and realize I’m the one who’s handing over this information to Wolent.
Petra being frightened of him is impressive, but she’s also frightened of Shadows. Not dark spots. I mean the vampires. My sister Sophia is frightened of actual shadows. Or used to be. Petra might be afraid of Sophia if she knew about her talents. She’d definitely be afraid of Sam. Well, not so much Sam but Mel the succubus. Pretty much any entity capable of snapping their fingers and causing the instantaneous combustion of a vampire into sparkly bits is something to be afraid of. Rumor has it excessive amounts of disco music can also cause vampires to explode in flames.
For whatever reason, the woman appeared to be afraid of vampires from the ‘Old World’ as if they’re some mythically powerful creatures. Hopefully, she’s referring to Europe when she says ‘old world’ and she hasn’t gone full Cthulhu. You never go full Cthulhu. Granted, my sister’s closet is occasionally home to giant void tentacles.
Can’t get in much more trouble by giving the laptop to Wolent than we’re already in. If Anselme really did notice Sophia attempting to magically spy on his operation, he’s already going to be regarding her-slash-my family as a threat. Maybe he already did, which explains the zombie attack. Why poke us though? Did he expect those zombies to succeed or were we a trial run? Suppose it hurt his ego when my kid sister killed three of them ‘herself.’ I doubt he saw the hellhound. Explains why the next time zombies happened—at the hibachi restaurant—he sent a small army of them.
I really shouldn’t call them zombies. It’s not accurate, but it’s much easier to say than ‘remote-operated ambulatory corpses.’
Hmm. Might as well check out this laptop. I open it, log in, and start poking around. One folder—created right on the desktop—holds files containing notes on various Seattle vampires including me. Their photo of me is from the night the two idiots attacked me in the parking garage at the school. One of them must have taken it before asking me to kick their ass. They have a photo of Sophia as well, apparently taken via a long-distance lens as she walked from school to her bus. I have to laugh at the big red lettering spelling out ‘dangerous’ across the bottom of the image.
Few things say ‘deadly threat’ like a twig of a blonde tween in a pink dress wearing a pink Hello Kitty backpack.
No photos of Sierra, Sam, or my parents. Every other picture in the folder is a vampire. I notice they don’t have any photos of the elders, or any Shadows regardless of their age. The text documents do have info on everyone, including the elders (no Shadows though). It’s weird and spotty. Lists of random facts contain stuff like ‘had a legal battle with so and so in 1934’ or ‘hates the new girl.’ The comments on Eleanor St. Ives mention she ‘had past discontent’ with me. Apparently, Paolo Cabrini regards me as an ‘insult to vampire kind.’
Well F you, too, asshole.
The Exxon Valdez called. They want their oil back. I’m talking about his hair. I swear it could deflect bullets. How the heck did they find out so much secret stuff? All the elders suspect Aurélie of lying about not having any interest in politics. Most of them believe she’s really in control of the city by virtue of charming Wolent. His notes don’t support the idea. Despite her being way older than him, he regards her as a ‘young, delicate woman.’
Stefano thinks the Shadows are really pulling the strings despite their claims of being neutral observers.
<
br /> Curious the files have zero info on any of the Shadows.
Notes on me are pretty limited, too. Mostly pointing out my issues with Stefano, Paolo, Petra, and Anatoly Zharkov, the vampire who owns the Abaddon night club. Stupid spyglass. Why I ever agreed to help Dalton steal it, I still don’t really understand.
The last item in my section says ‘beware Fuzzydoom.’ Then, WTF is ‘Fuzzydoom.’
Done.
I cackle.
Once I recover my composure, I keep reading. Looks like this laptop contains an incredible amount of information about Seattle vampire society. Properties, businesses, homes, comments about who deals with who, who hates who, and so forth.
How did they get all this stuff? How could anyone possibly know about Fuzzydoom?
Oh, duh. I slap myself in the forehead. Anselme is a mystic. He must be scrying for information, getting it from the spirit world. Hmm. Wonder if the reason he has nothing on the Shadows is because their hidden hall is shielded somehow from supernatural spying? Seeing the note of ‘dangerous’ on Sophia’s picture makes me slightly less afraid of Anselme. He’s probably still a total badass, but if a kid with some barely controlled magical abilities is a threat, the man’s probably not untouchable.
“Sarah,” calls Wolent as he enters. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. I wish the fools told me who wanted to see me.”
He doesn’t mean to imply I’m any sort of VIP. More like I’m working on an important assignment he’s keenly interested in. “I have information.”
“Excellent.” He walks over.
I stand at his approach. Might as well be formal. We sit at the same time in facing chairs.
“The man responsible for these attacks is a vampire named Anselme Ernoul.” I offer the laptop. “His people have collected a ton of info on us here.”
Wolent’s eyebrow ticks a slight bit up. Something about his expression gives off a sense he knows of him but either doesn’t remember much about him or only heard the name in passing. “A computer?”
Vampire Innocent | Book 11 | How To Stop A Vampire War In Six Easy Steps Page 27