Angeles Underground

by Michael Pierce

  “Sorry, Mom,” I said, not knowing what else to say, tears now brimming my eyes as well. I’d expected a scolding and yelling, but not this.

  When she finally let go, she stepped back and looked me over. “You look well,” she said. “Not hurt or starving.”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Why would you do this without saying anything to anyone?” Sean admonished from the background.

  He knew more than anyone about my search for my father, which was the thing that cost us our relationship. If he knew about the letter I left for Mom, then I was positive Alexis and Candace did too. I’d have a lot of explaining to do. I’d prepared myself for Mom, but not the rest of them just yet. So instead of excuses and rationalizations, I went on the offensive.

  “You lost your right to accuse me of being selfish,” I snapped. “In fact, I don’t even understand why you’re here.”

  “I—” he started, but Mom cut him off.

  “That’s enough,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Ms. Winter, do you mind if—”

  “I think it’s better if you went home now, Sean,” she said sternly. “Come inside, Fiona.” Mom took the rolling suitcase from me and wheeled it inside.

  Sean stood just outside the door, dumbfounded and affronted. But before I could close it and shut him out completely, he said, “Were you with Matthew? Your mother said he was harmless, but I’m not so sure.”

  “How do you know about him?” I asked, stopping the closing swing of the door.

  “The girls told me about him—and there’s more.” He was speaking quickly now, trying to keep me from shutting him out. “He’s been following you for years. He’s in the pictures—the pictures I took. I showed your mom, but she—”

  “Goodbye, Sean,” Mom said, stepping up beside me and pushing the door closed.

  “There’s something off about him!” Sean yelled from outside, the door doing little to mute his voice.

  I let my head fall against the door, already mentally exhausted. “Goodbye, Sean!” I yelled back.

  “If you haven’t noticed, he’s been checking up on you,” Mom said. “He’s been worried sick.”

  “And you?” I asked and wiped my eyes of residual tears.

  “You know I can’t sleep when you’re out,” she said. “So I’ve been awake for—for what? A week and a half? Two weeks? All the days are blending together and I can’t keep anything straight anymore. Yes; I was worried too. You scared me, kid. But after I got over the initial grief, I knew you’d be back before long.” She wheeled my bag into my room while she was talking, then returned to the living room.

  “How did you know that?” I asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

  “Because I’d like to think I know you well enough to know you don’t want to leave. You want to know about your deadbeat of a father—which is understandable no matter how much I advocate against it—but whatever you found, I knew you’d want to come home. Either the lead you supposedly found led nowhere, in which case you’d come home. Or it would finally lead you to him, but you’d find out he’s not the man you hoped he was, in which case you’d also come home. So, which is it? What did you find?”

  I wanted to tell her I’d found him—I wanted to tell her everything like I’d done when I was little. But I wasn’t little anymore and now knew we didn’t tell each other everything. My mother was keeping at least as much from me as I was from her, and it hurt to know we didn’t have the open and honest relationship I’d begun taking for granted. And even if I did tell her about him, what would I say? It wasn’t like I could tell her about the True North Society, was it? I could tell her about his other family—his wife and young daughter—and leave all the secret society stuff out of the story. But even that felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

  In the end, all I could do was sadly shake my head. “What did Sean tell you about my search for him?”

  “Nothing specific, but he did mention you’d put in a lot of effort over the years in looking for him, and it ultimately cost your relationship.”

  “His choice, not mine,” I snapped.

  “I’m not on his side,” she said calmly. “I just wish I knew you were so insistent on finding him, so we could have talked more about it.”

  “But that’s the problem, Mom. You never want to talk about it, so I stopped trying to bring it up.”

  “Alright,” she said, stroking my arm as she walked past to sit on the couch. “I’ll share some blame in this. I wanted to believe we were enough for each other and had a hard time accepting we weren’t. You had questions you wanted answered—ones I couldn’t answer.”

  “You don’t want to talk about things that are hard,” I said, joining her on the couch.

  “About your father abandoning us? About your sister’s death? You’re right; I don’t want to talk about those things. I’m sorry if that’s not acceptable for you, but it’s taken me many years to cope. Bringing all those crushing emotions back to the surface is something I have a very hard time doing. I’m always afraid I’m not doing enough—that I’m not enough. Your unyielding search for your father simply reinforces that belief.”

  “Just because I want some answers doesn’t mean you’re not enough,” I said.

  “I thought it was you and me against the world.”

  “It is. I’m here and I’m back, and I won’t do anything like this to you again,” I promised, then immediately wondered if it was a promise I could keep. “What was Sean saying about Matthew?”

  “Oh, that friend of yours,” she said, without skipping a beat. “Alexis mentioned he was someone coming to see you at work. I can’t keep track of all your boys.”

  “I don’t really have any boys anymore,” I said, my mind returning to how I’d left things with Matthew.

  “Sean showed me some of the pictures he took of you, and it seemed this Matthew boy was in the background of a few of them. A little strange, but things like this happen. You don’t have to think the worst of people all the time. He tried to convince me Matthew was in more pictures when he pointed to blurred figures in the background who could have been anyone.”

  “I didn’t know he was in any of our pictures.”

  “Life is full of funny little surprises,” Mom said, finally cracking a small smile.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I said, shaking my head, wondering why I’d never noticed Matthew in any of my photos before.

  I knew there was more she wasn’t telling me and wondered how much she really knew about Matthew. If she was somehow tangled up with vampires, did she even know he was one too? It was obvious she wasn’t going to admit to anything out of the ordinary, so we continued to play our little game of dancing around our secrets.

  “I didn’t make any dinner—I don’t eat much when it’s just me—but I can whip you up something really fast if you’d like.” Mom stood up expectantly, almost seeming eager to break from our conversation.

  “That sounds great,” I said, feeling obligated to give in to her request. “Do you want any help?”

  “No; you just relax. I’ll take care of everything.” A minute later, she had half the food from the refrigerator out on the kitchen counter. Then came the mixing bowls and frying pans. Before long, I heard sizzling from a fragrant mixture of food on the stove.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t find your father,” she said as she continued to sauté some vegetables. “See? It’s just his way of disappointing you again.”

  The argumentative streak in me so wanted to reply, but I bit my tongue and let her have her stories and lies, feeling less guilty about my own.

  38

  Matthew

  My phone had several messages when I finally left solitary. My guilt didn’t stop me feeding on the sullied man one more time.

  I called back Ashley and was told about a meeting with the other coaches scheduled for nine o’clock this morning. At least I had time to go back to my apartment to freshen up before the meeting, sure I
wouldn’t get a welcoming reception in the bloody clothes I was in now.

  When I reached the conference room, Aaron, Mac, and Anderson were already waiting in the hallway since the door was closed. I nodded to each of them, receiving only the same in return.

  It didn’t take long for the double doors to open. They were power operated, so no one in the Assembly of Seven had to rise from the oval conference room table.

  “Come in, gentlemen,” Janice called from the far side of the room.

  We filed through the doorway as a group while Aaron made a snide comment to Anderson about not all of us being “gentlemen.” He knew there was nothing I’d do about it here.

  I felt everyone’s eyes on me as we lined up at the nearside of the table. The majority of them were hostile, though the eyes of my biggest adversary, Douglas Fiennes, were less critical than usual.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Janice said. “We’ve had a very eventful candidacy for our final class, but ultimately a successful one. I want to thank you for all the hard work you’ve put in, in preparing these candidates for the tumultuous road ahead.”

  The others sitting around the table nodded agreement.

  “I would like to officially let you know all candidates have passed their final tests. The initiation ceremony is being scheduled for one week from today—10 p.m. sharp. Please inform your candidates—or pre-initiates, rather—and ensure they’re prepared.”

  She’s done it, I thought. Everything Fiona had gone through had paid off. The future was unfolding just as it was supposed to—which also meant her end was coming much too soon. There had been a great many things we’d known would happen, but when they did, there was still a level of surprise. I was still waiting for that moment we knew would arrive, that for some reason didn’t—and what that would ultimately mean.

  “Thank you, President Bolt,” Aaron said. “Thank you for giving Mallory a second chance to prove her commitment. She is increasingly committed to our cause.”

  “I’ve been pleasantly surprised by her transformation,” Janice said. “As well as Fiona’s. I’m confident they will be great assets.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Unless anyone has anything to add, the coaches are dismissed.”

  No one raised a voice, so the four of us walked out in single file. The other three went one way down the hall, and I went the opposite—more out of wanting my own space than really needing to go this way.

  I stopped at the nearest bank of elevators, to get back to the ground floor. The North Building was relatively quiet at this time of the morning. It didn’t have the opposite schedule like Sisters of Mercy, but the work hours were mostly later than the typical nine to five.

  The elevator to the left dinged and the doors opened, and I instantly regretted not following the other coaches.

  “Going up?” Taylor asked. She was wearing a navy-blue business suit with a knee-length skirt—looking quite conservative—not how I was used to seeing her.

  “I think I’ll wait for the next one,” I said, remaining firmly planted in place.

  “Don’t be such a child, Matthew,” she scolded, pressing the button to hold the doors open when they tried to close. “You’re the one who bites, not me.”

  I balled my hands into fists. “How is this building not big enough to keep us from running into each other?” I asked and reluctantly lurched forward, then stepped into the elevator cab. I made a show of angling myself away from her. “Ground floor, please.”

  “It seems our common destiny continues. Are you feeding on your new human pet now, or are you still abstaining altogether—or trying to, anyway?” she asked as the elevator began to move.

  “I’m not going to talk about this with you.” I kept my eyes on the numbers of the changing floors.

  “It’s against your nature to abstain from human blood. I never asked you to go against your nature.” She reached out to touch my arm and I shrugged her hand away.

  There weren’t many floors to go, but it felt like each took longer to reach than the last.

  “I’m sorry about last time,” she said sweetly. “I’m just hurt you’re trying to shut me out. I don’t understand why. We were good for each other.”

  “No, we weren’t,” I snapped. “I don’t like myself when I’m with you.”

  “For being yourself? I don’t care you’re not human. I think you should embrace what you are.”

  “I’m really not interested in your opinion.” My phone began to buzz in my pocket.

  By the time I got the phone to my ear, the doors opened for the ground floor and I sprang out of the cab ahead of Taylor, not glancing back to see if she was following.

  “Mr. Mercer, this is Jeremy Salts, executive assistant to Gideon Brent,” the young male voice said. “Mr. Brent would like to arrange a meeting with you. Are you available Monday?”

  “See you around, Matthew,” Taylor called from somewhere behind me. I kept right on walking.

  “I can make myself available,” I said. “When would the consul like to meet?”

  “Would ten or eleven a.m. work?”

  “The sooner the better. I’ll be there at ten,” I said and hung up. I’d just learned Fiona’s fate, now I had to wait three days to find out mine.

  I need some blood.

  39

  Fiona

  I hadn’t heard from Matthew in two days. I wanted to continue my training but didn’t know if I was allowed to go there on my own. I even thought of calling Mallory but didn’t have her number, and asking for it at Hot Coffee would raise all sorts of questions. I couldn’t handle that.

  In fact, I needed to visit Alexis and Candace, but it was taking me an excruciatingly long time to face them. Undoubtedly, Sean had relayed to them the news I’d returned, yet I hadn’t received a single call or text from them since getting home. There were plenty of old messages I’d never returned because I was supposed to be M.I.A., but all the communication had now gone quiet.

  At least Becca was excited to have me home; I could barely sleep the first night because she was talking so much. It felt so good to hear her voice though. I scolded her for revealing herself to Matthew, though I wasn’t really upset with her—only with Matthew.

  “Is he your new boyfriend?” Becca had asked innocently. “He was super nice to me. And he seems to like you—a lot.”

  “I don’t know what he is,” I’d said. “It’s complicated.”

  “You always say that.”

  “Everything seems to be complicated nowadays.”

  During the span of the conversation, I’d eaten at least four Oreo cream halves. I thought I would’ve been sick of them after last time—in the parking lot of Sisters of Mercy—but miraculously, they were as delicious and soothing as ever. I placed the bare halves back on the tray.

  “I don’t want you to leave again.”

  “I won’t. I’m here to stay now.” Then I told her all about our father, second family and all.

  I walked to Hot Coffee in the early evening, hoping both Alexis and Candace would be there. But then again, I was also secretly hoping only one of them would be, so I wouldn’t be double-teamed. Maybe I was even secretly hoping there’d be an entirely different closing crew, so I could grab a white mocha and postpone our conversation even further.

  As luck would have it, I saw Alexis through the glass as I walked up from the parking lot. She was talking to someone behind the bar; I was pretty sure it was Candace. I almost turned around right then.

  The after-dinner crowd hadn’t hit yet, so the shop was mostly empty. Alexis started to greet me like a regular patron before she noticed who’d come in the door.

  “Well, look who decided to stroll back into our lives,” she said with the bitterness of a plain black coffee.

  As I hopped up on a bar stool, I noticed Eli leaning behind the post—so it was him Alexis had been talking to.

  “I’m sorry, Alex,” I said in my best apology voice.

  Her eyes o
nly narrowed even more. “So, what do you have to say for yourself besides an insincere I’m sorry?”

  “I’m really sorry?” I offered a guilty smile, but Alexis wasn’t biting.

  “Where did you go? These girls have been worried sick about you,” Eli said, sounding more like a concerned parent than my own mother had.

  “I thought I’d found my father,” I said. “I had to go and see for myself.”

  “And that’s totally fine,” Alexis chimed in. “I totally get it. But you never said anything to us—not a peep. You disappeared and never even called back—texted back—sent us a freakin’ smoke signal—nothing! You bailed on your mom. You bailed on us. You bailed on the rest of your senior year.”

  “I passed my GED,” I said sheepishly.

  “See! That’s what I’m talking about!”

  “Where’s Candace? I feel like she should be yelling at me right now,” I said, propping my head up on my elbow.

  “She’s off tonight,” Eli said.

  “She’d be so much more than yelling at you. She’d be totally kicking your ass right now.” Alexis apologetically glanced over at Eli.

  “I’ll allow it,” he said.

  I didn’t know if he meant the swear word or Candace actually kicking my ass, but guessed it didn’t matter.

  “I know what I did sucks,” I said. “And I already told you I’m sorry. But I didn’t want anyone talking me out of it or anyone coming after me to drag me home before I finished what I set out to do.”

  “We wouldn’t have—”

  “I couldn’t take the chance. I just couldn’t take it.” I stared at her with tears welling up in my eyes because I knew how much I’d hurt her and Candace—and it killed me to know I’d probably do it again if the Society demanded it of me.

  Now Alexis’s rage was waning, her own eyes now glistening too. She brought a fist to her mouth and cleared her throat.

  “You scared the sh—crap out of me,” she said, wiping her eyes to keep any tears from falling.