by Lily Luchesi
“Like I’m falling for that,” Angelica scoffed, hoping he couldn’t feel the cold hand of fear creeping around her throat.
“You’re drinking blood like crazy, but you’re still cold and weak. You didn’t drive this thing today for the fun of it, you did it because you don’t think you’re strong enough to run like you usually do,” he observed, sounding eerily like Brighton used to. “I can tell you how to stop it, but you probably won’t like to hear it.”
No, she knew she would not want to hear this. Not only did she hate that someone knew more about her than she did herself, but she hated having to take advice from a demon, the only creatures with no redeeming quality. Souls of pure black malice. And yet she had to trust this one, because she knew he was right. She knew it was not depression or stress. There was something very wrong with her, and she had not drank from Danny that day because she was afraid that she would not have been able to stop.
“Go on,” she said, struggling to keep her voice neutral.
“Vampires don’t need to kill to live, that is something you unfortunately proved. You are not a regular vampire by any means. Being from a line directly descended from humans, but born with vampiric blood, your body has been slowly breaking down ever since the moment you were fully turned. Particularly after you used much of your power against Fiona last year. Your body now can’t get enough blood to sustain it, because you’re not drinking it properly fitting to your unique condition,” Leander explained.
Angelica laughed, she couldn’t help it. “Not drinking it properly? Are you out of your fucking mind? I’ve been drinking blood since I was born. I think I know how.”
“Yes, but just as there is a difference in nutrition value between drinking from a pre-made cut or biting the victim, there is a big difference between drinking enough to survive, and enough to thrive. You need to drink a person dry, just once, so your body can get what it needs to thrive. Otherwise, I give you three months before you wither away to centuries old dust.”
Angelica’s mouth dropped as she received yet another bombshell blow of information. “How can I trust you?”
“You can’t...except that I need you alive, so therefore it stands to reason I wouldn’t lie about something that could keep you that way. Oh, and one more thing. I know how your mind works: you want to kill someone terminally ill, or perhaps in an institution or coma. That won’t work. You need a human in the prime of their life, under forty and over eighteen. Perfectly healthy.” He smirked. “Bon appétit, Your Highness.”
He disappeared, leaving behind a stench of sulfur and smoke. Angelica automatically rolled down the windows and proceeded to stare out into nothingness, wanting to come up with arguments against Leander’s reasoning as to why she was feeling like complete shit. There were no reasons. With vampires, blood can fix everything. If blood wasn’t fixing what was wrong with her, then she needed more help...or even more blood. As in, a lot more.
Just thinking about it brought out her fangs. Hunger for blood was like sexual attraction for post-pubescent teens: all encompassing, larger than life, and possibly dangerous. Angelica began to drive, hoping to figure out a way to get out of this with her conscience intact. There was no way to justify this. No matter how eloquently she put it, it all came down to the same thing: she wanted to end another person’s life in order to prolong her own.
She could, of course, lie. Take any human from the street and feed as her very basic DNA told her to: completely and greedily, drinking up life force along with blood. And what if the PID investigated and found out it was her? It would be much worse than telling them. She needed a cover story in order to consume a person, or find a human willing to sacrifice themselves to her. The latter was unlikely, but the former could be done...eventually.
Leander gave her three months. If possible, she’d take that long to do something. Decision procrastinated, she pulled into the PID lot and went up the elevator to the main floor. In the sitting room, she found Harriet setting wards up, overpowering the ones their Coven had already put in place. Danny was reading a book about demons from the library, and Mark was trying to comfort a sniffling Helena.
As she walked into the room, the pulsing blood from four living beings hit her like the smell of roasting meat after a human had been on a fast for a week.
I can’t live like this for three more months, she thought. And I refuse to die because I’m stubborn. Mother always said you had to do what you needed to ensure survival when you were one of us, and she was right.
Helena looked up when Angelica walked in and said, “In your books, you never said how bad it felt to lose someone so violently, knowing you were powerless to help them.”
“There are no words for something like that,” Angelica commented. “Authors and poets have tried, and none have come close.”
Helena nodded sadly, and Angelica’s heart went out to the girl. She knew what Helena and Bart had shared had been merely physical, and not true love, but her silly human heart had misconstrued it as such and she knew what the girl was feeling. Despite her own suffering, she wished she could do something to help her. She’d lost her father and lover in just a few months’ time. It had to be hard for her.
Mark got a beep on his PID app and he said, “Who wants to go kill a rogue vampire?”
“Oh, please, I need to kill something,” Angelica said, a smirk rising on her face.
Danny chuckled. “The love of my life, ladies and gents.” He stood up. “Let’s go.”
“No, Danny, why don’t you and Mark keep looking for more information on my condition and how to trap Leander aside from a Devil’s Trap. Helena, come with me,” Angelica said.
“Me?” Helena squeaked. “I can’t—”
“You need a distraction. Being in the middle of a battle is more than enough to get the adrenaline flowing and help chase the darkness away,” Angelica said. And just maybe you can be a perfect alibi. The idea hit her like a ton of bricks, coming fully formed. It was devious, cunning, and would damn her soul straight to Hell if she went through with it. However, her dizziness and weakness were immediate problems she needed to deal with. She could atone for her sins and beg for her soul another time...if she even had a soul anymore.
Helena’s countenance brightened at the thought of being included and she stood up. “Thank you, Angelica!”
The vampire smirked. It was a nice change from being referred to as simply a disdainful “her”. “Get your weapons. Mark, give me the coordinates and how many victims?”
“Oak Park, the underground parking lot by the—”
“The old Borders Books,” Angelica finished. She missed that store, and had been a regular there.
“Report says a girl called 911 and her pursuer had glowing red eyes,” Mark continued. “I think that’s our thing. As slow as 911 is, they probably killed the chit by now, but you can still catch them.”
Helena returned and Angelica immediately led her to the car in the garage.
“Holy Hell, this is nice!” Helena said as she slid in the passenger seat.
“Buckle up and I pray you don’t get carsick,” Angelica replied, gunning the engine. “Speed limits mean absolutely nothing to me.” She could cut the thirteen minute drive in half if she was lucky enough to not hit red lights. She wished she had been strong enough to run there: this whole thing would have been taken care of already.
“Do vampires usually hang around at the scene of the crime?” Helena asked.
“Yeah, a lot of them do, especially if they’re newly turned,” Angelica replied. “Newly turned vamps usually figure, if they found one human, they’ll find another in a matter of time in the same place. Don’t believe everything you read: not all vampires are cunning predators. For many, it takes decades to be able to kill stealthily. Most survive on pure luck. If they’re not hanging about for prey, they probably have their nest set up nearby. Vampires usually move about frequently, but they always hunt near where their home base is set up.”
Helen
a was silent for the rest of the ride, except for her frightened breathing that Angelica could hear as loud as gale force winds. Evidently, she did not like the vampire’s driving.
Angelica parked a block away, thankful that the affluent city of Oak Park went to sleep early on weeknights. Had this been downtown or Wrigleyville, they would have been surrounded by people that could easily become casualties.
“Silent,” Angelica ordered. “I can smell blood.” Indeed she could. It was faint, as the vampire had most likely drained the victim nearly bone dry, but it was like sweet perfume to Angelica. She hoped she could keep her hunger in check to do what needed to be done. She heard scuffling shoes, Converse on concrete. Wearing them frequently herself, she was familiar with the sound.
She sensed Helena’s fear, and that only sharpened her hunger.
“I have an idea,” Helena hissed.
Angelica pulled her out of the garage, hoping the distance would mean the vampire would not hear them. “Speak quickly.”
“Maybe I’m taking stuff straight from TV, but can you use me as bait? I’m sure the vampire knows there’s a human here, right? And you’re obviously faster and more powerful than they are, so I think I can trust you to rescue me in time.” Helena looked up at Angie with trustful green eyes, and right then and there Angelica decided not to go through with the idea she had had back at the PID. To break someone’s hard-won trust went against every code of ethics she had lived by.
“Are you sure?” Angelica asked. “If I fail, that could mean your death...or turning.”
Helena smiled. “You won’t fail. Not you. Look...I treated you like shit when we met, and you forgave me. The least I can do is assist you now.”
Angelica nodded, feeling admiration for the girl who had, just a month ago, froze solid at the mere sight of a rogue vampire. “Go on. I’ll be right on your tail. And remember, even if you get bitten once, that will not turn you and I can heal you.”
The little mortal walked back into the garage and Angelica began to listen more intently as Helena’s footfalls got softer. She heard more stealthy movement, and assumed it was the vampire.
“Hello?” Helena called. “Is anyone there?” The fear in her voice was not faked. Angelica assumed it was no fun being bait. Helena’s footfalls stopped. “This isn’t funny. I— I’m calling nine-one-one!”
A laugh, high pitched and mirthless. “Come to me,” a female voice hissed. “Come on...I don’t bite.” Another laugh.
Shit, Angelica thought. Helena’s being glamoured. I hadn’t counted on that. She needed to wait, because the vamp could get away if she showed herself too soon, but she was concerned for Helena’s welfare.
“This won’t hurt a bit,” the vampire cooed and Angelica smelled fresh blood as a deep groan came from the garage. That was her cue. Blade at the ready, she dashed inside and faced the vampire, who had her fangs deep in Helena’s neck. The mortal hunter was trapped in thrall and the iron grip of a full vampire.
Angelica watched as the vampire registered her presence. The woman’s eyes widened and she moved her head away from the bite mark she had created.
“You. You came back,” the girl gasped.
Came back? I never went anywhere, Angelica thought, before realization dawned on her. To this vampire, she wasn’t Detective Angelica Cross. She was the Empress. Apparently her subjects could now recognize her by sight. No wonder all of the other vampires at the PID had been avoiding her!
“Yes, I am the prophecy fulfilled,” Angelica said, knowing she sounded like a complete asshole from some bad B-movie. “Now let the mortal go.” The vampire stood immobile. “Didn’t you hear me? Put her the fuck down now!”
Her change in tone startled the vampire, who shoved Helena down hard onto the ground, bumping her head on the concrete. Angelica heard her skull fracture. Nothing that could not be healed. She was surprised when the vampire came to stand before her and dropped to her knees, bowing to her Empress.
“My Lady. There were rumors. I am so glad they were true. I thought he was lying. I thought he was insane,” she said.
“Who?” Angelica asked. “Leander Price?”
The vampire nodded. “Yes, my Lady. He wanted us prepared for your return, to know you’d be giving up this vigilantism and finally lead us back to glory, just as we were promised.”
Angelica watched how humbled this formerly devious hunter of the night was before her, on her knees in a dirty garage, all dignity and pride forgotten in the face of the promised leader. Angelica admitted to herself that she could get used to this.
Angelica reached down, taking the vampire’s chin in her left hand, forcing the girl to look at her. “Leander lied. I am the Empress, but I will not be leading anyone to murder innocents in my name. As Empress, I will be enforcing the same laws I have been my entire life. And that also means I will be enforcing the same punishments as well.”
The vampire’s eyes widened in horror as Angelica’s grip on her face tightened. Angelica’s hand cracked the bones in the girl’s jaw, they crumbled in her hold like stale cookies. Raising her right hand, in which her blade was held, she sliced clean through the vampire’s neck, and wound up holding the severed head in one hand. The body barely aged: this was a young vampire as she had expected.
She carelessly tossed the head beside the body and walked toward Helena, who was stirring on the floor. Her head was bleeding, but could be easily mended. The stench of blood permeated the enclosed space, making Angelica’s hunger flare up again. She had always been hungrier after a kill, but this time it was the submission of one of her subjects— the first display of obedience she had ever seen in her newfound role as Empress— that drove her hunger. It was a hunger for blood, and for power as well.
“Angelica…” Helena’s voice was thick, as if she had just woken from a long sleep.
Angelica bent down and helped Helena to her feet, but she was extremely unsteady. Angelica leaned her against the wall, feeling weakness hit her like a wave. It was the hunger; the hunger she would only need to feed once to never feel again.
She found herself staring at the congealed blood on Helena’s neck wound. She took a breath, and saw Helena glance worriedly at her.
“Are you all right?” Helena asked tentatively. A trickle of blood from the head wound dripped down the side of her face, down her neck. Angelica stared at it, transfixed.
Her fangs elongated without her wanting them to. She imagined her eyes had changed as well as she heard Helena whimper, scared. Oh, but fear did taste so sweet…
“I’m sorry,” Angelica muttered. “But I cannot afford to be so weak any longer, and I cannot risk an unplanned meal.”
“What?” Helena gasped, and Angelica saw she was scared enough to be crying. Tears made the blood taste better as well.
“It’ll be over soon,” Angelica promised, and promptly sunk her fangs into Helena’s throat, tearing through the flesh like butter. Because the girl was not in thrall, Angelica knew she felt the full brunt of the pain. Vaguely, she heard her scream, but ignored it as the hot, salty blood poured down her throat. Fear made the heart beat faster, so the blood flowed quicker. Helena cried and tried to beat against Angelica, but Angelica could not have stopped even if she wanted to...and she did not want to. Helena’s punches felt like slaps from a toddler, nothing more.
Her claws dug into Helena’s torso, breaking the skin and more blood stained her hands as she drank deeply, savoring this as she had never savored a meal before.
She felt Helena’s pulse flicker and bit down harder, tearing a huge hole in Helena’s neck. The flow of blood slowed to a trickle and Angelica wrenched her mouth away from the now depleted vein she had tapped. Without thinking, she twisted Helena’s neck sharply to the right, making it look as if someone left-handed had done it, and made sure that was what killed her and she would not rise again as a member of the Undead.
Like magic, she felt the weakness abate as power thrummed in her veins and nerve endings. She felt invincib
le, and she nearly was. The euphoria from the blood and power made her feel as though she were a mortal who had taken a hit from Willie Nelson’s favorite kind of cigarettes.
It took a few moments for her body to adjust to the change, and once she did, she opened her eyes and saw the twisted body on the dirty concrete before her. A sacrifice to a most evil and cruel ruler.
Now that she was not crippled by unnatural hunger, what she had done hit her and she felt sick to her stomach. Her knees went weak and she sank to the floor before the corpse, a dry sob heaving from her chest. She barely remembered doing this, she had been in a thrall of her own, in a way. A self-inflicted, heartless daze of the truly Undead.
She covered her mouth with her hands— hands still stained with the drying blood of a former acquaintance —and cried harder than she had since she was twenty: body-wracking sobs that echoed in the silence. Her body was shaking with the weight of the reality of her actions, and she could not stop crying.
Leander was right. Danny was wrong. She was a monster.
Chapter Twelve
Angelica was not sure how long she sat there, staring at Helena’s corpse, but she was roused from her reverie by the loud music coming from her phone. At first she wondered who was playing “The Night” in Yuppie-Town, but remembered that that was her new ringtone.
“Cross.” Her voice was shaky.
“Angie? It’s been a while. Are you both okay?” Danny asked, worry clouding his voice.
I’m fan-fucking-tastic, Angelica thought. It’s Helena you need to worry about. “No,” she said. “No, Danny...it killed her. I— I’m sorry. I never should have agreed to let her be bait, but I’ve done it before with mortal agents and I’ve never lost a single one.” She was crying again. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
Danny paused, taking it all in, and for a moment all she heard was the rushing wind outside.
“My God,” he gasped.
