Shades of Red

by T L Christianson

  Letting out a deep breath, I felt the lingering threads of bloodlust begin to dissipate.

  I forced what I hoped was a natural looking smile as the boy continued to stumble over his description of Amy.

  “It’s okay, I know who you’re talking about.” I laughed. “When do they come in?”

  The counter guy pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time. “Actually, about now…” Then, looking back up at me, he said, “Care to order anything?”

  I perused the menu. “Sure…”

  I’d ordered some sausage, pulled pork, and sliced brisket. He gave me a cup and my tray of food. I took it to the soda area and filled my cup with ice and tea.

  Sitting on one of the picnic style tables, I pulled out my mobile phone and texted Sten.

  Me: Getting something to eat.

  I figured that if the Butcher did show up, then I’d text him about it.

  Karsten: On my way.

  I sighed.

  I guess he was over our little fight. At least I hoped he was. I tapped my fingernails on the red checkered plastic tablecloth while I thought.

  Karsten entered the restaurant and made his way up to the counter. I watched him and poked my food with a plastic fork.

  After retrieving his tray of meat and white bread, he sat down across from me.

  “Hey.” I wanted to say, I’m so sorry about acting crazy before, will you ever forgive me? I do want to be with you.

  Instead, I said nothing and watched as he began shoveling food into his mouth. It made me wonder how he could eat so much.

  “So…” I began lamely. “I wanted to talk about what went on this afternoon.”

  He grunted, so I continued. “I do like you. I’ve told you that. But...” I trailed off–I hadn’t been looking for a relationship–I was a mess. I had a virus to cure, a thirst to overcome and a boss warning me off of the one guy I’d had feelings for in years.

  Poking at my food, I was unable to eat. As a new Moroi, my system was still a little fragile. My diet consisted mostly of blood, which was normal for a young vamp.

  “We do have a connection,” I said. “I mean, my life is just crazy, but if anyone could understand me, I thought you might.”

  He nodded. “Can I have your brisket?”

  “Yes.” I pushed my tray closer to him.

  Just then, the Butcher stepped through the door, and I froze.

  The old man was alone.

  I looked out into the parking lot, and there sat an old Buick with Arkansas plates. The car looked empty.

  “Sten!” I whispered and watched as he began eating his food again.

  As he reached out and took my hand, I could tell he was watching the old man out of his peripheral vision.

  “Act normal.” He spoke at a volume that would appear casual but unintelligible to those around us.

  “Fine. Then tell me you’re fine.” I was trying, but I knew I could never pull off this nonchalance that Karsten could do.

  “I’m fine.” He kept hold of my hand. “To be honest, I wasn’t looking for a relationship.” He scratched his jaw with his thumb. “And, I’m not some asshole that sleeps around.” His tone held some hints of anger or frustration, even though he kept his expression light and his tone calm.

  “Look, It’s just that…” I didn’t know how to finish my sentence; maybe, Aurev doesn’t want us to see each other?

  “You’re a new Moroi, so I’ll cut you some slack.”

  “I’ve been around Moroi almost my entire life,” I said back, almost a little too loudly.

  “I don’t know why you act like you want me and then tell me you don’t.”

  “Things are complicated. I’ve already told you why. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  He gave me a puzzled expression, “You say you’re logical and a scientist but this doesn’t make sense to me.”

  I almost rolled my eyes, but his tone was so severe, I stopped myself. “Well, what kind of relationship did you have in mind?”

  “What do you mean? I didn’t think we needed to define anything. I thought we’d just see where it goes.”

  I ran my hands over my face in frustration. “Let’s try to get to know each other more first.”

  “That’s fine by me.”

  We waited, watching the old man across the room.

  Finally, after watching Sten finish every speck of food, I spoke. “You said you’ve been married. Were you human or…?”

  His eyes were hidden from me as he looked down at the empty tray, then over to where the Butcher sat. The killer was alone, like some kind of regular old man.

  “I was human…” His gaze caught mine. “We had seven children…” He shook his head.

  We watched the Butcher get up and take his tray to the trash can.

  “Are they still alive?” I asked.

  Sten didn’t answer as we watched the old man leave.

  Then when the door closed, he said, “No.”

  We took our trays to the large trash can near the door and set them down on the shelf above it.

  “Get ready to run,” was all the warning I got when we stepped outside. Away from the windows of the restaurant, Sten went vamp speed, and I followed behind. Nearing the old Buick, a cloud of dirt billowed up from the gravel road behind it. We kept our distance and followed with little difficulty.

  I felt like I was flying and the exercise invigorated me. Looking over at my Viking, his eyes lit on me momentarily.

  After several miles, the car turned onto a dirt driveway. We stopped about half a mile away and watched as a mechanical gate opened to admit the vehicle before closing again.

  Running toward the gate, Karsten scaled the fence in one easy bound.

  I wasn’t so sure of myself, so I slowed and climbed over like the poor sap I am.

  When I caught up to my Viking, he was crouched behind some live oak trees and scrub bushes. The Buick sat in front of a lone trailer, with an electric post nearby and a shabby picnic table.

  We watched as the old man stood gingerly and carefully wrapped up his leftovers in the paper they’d been served on.

  “I don’t smell the girl,” I told Sten.

  “No, I don’t think she’s here. Also, why haven’t we talked about the fact that he’s human?”

  “See, our relationship is already affecting our work.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “Did you want to talk to him, while he’s alone?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, go to the front door, and I’ll guard the perimeter.”

  I bit my lip. Straightening, I dusted off my pants before making my way to the rotting wood stoop.

  Raising my fist, I tapped several times.

  “Hello?” I called out, hearing the muffled sound of a TV.

  When the Butcher opened the door, I felt in awe at finally meeting this notorious scientist. The things he must know! I couldn’t believe he was human! My pulse sped up and became more apprehensive than I was before. A human who lured Moroi in and tortured and killed them? Should we have come up with a signal for Karsten to get me out of there?

  The old man aimed a gun at me. “Listen here, missy. I’ve got silver bullets, and I’m not afraid to use them.” The rolled ‘r’s of his speech confirmed his identity as a South African.

  I put my hands up. “My name is Dr. Shepard. I’ve come because I want to talk to you about your work.” I stepped back as he waved the gun before me. “Bad people are looking for you… You’ve made a lot of enemies, and they’re out to kill you.” I smiled. “I can help.”

  Eyes twitching between me and the open door, he waved the gun at me. “I know what you are.”

  I nodded. “I suspect you do.”

  “That mind control stuff doesn’t work on me.”

  “I never planned to use it.” I felt my inner voice buzzing, liar. “May I come in?”

  “We know there have been people hunting us, but I thought we’d be safe here for a while.” He grunted an
d stepped back to let me in, muttering, “Hmmph…Guess not.”

  Stepping inside, I wrinkled my nose at the smell of trash and menthol.

  The old man waved his gun toward the couch and motioned for me to sit.

  I sat.

  “Tell me exactly what it is that you want.”

  “I’m working on a cure for the Moroi Plague. I know you created it. I also know that you’ve been doing experiments since the 80’s.”

  He harrumphed and sat across from me, still aiming his pistol in my general direction.

  “Well, you’ve got it wrong, like most vamps. I didn’t create the plague, and I’m not the one doing the experiments.”

  I furrowed my brow, unable to detect any deception on his part. “So, it’s Amy? The girl?”

  “Oi! That girl is doing important work. She’s making the world a better place. Taking out the trash. Killing off the monsters.” His South African accent making his words sound harsh.

  I felt my brow knit together. “So, she tortured all those vampires? She made all those diseases? She killed all those people?”

  “Amy put them out of their misery. They came to her.”

  “She dissected them, though… I saw evidence of that.”

  “They gave their lives to science. It’s a noble thing to do.”

  I frowned. “Wait a minute, all those victims came willingly?” I raised a brow in disbelief.

  “They weren’t in any pain, Amy saw to that.” His accent decorated his words. He purposely wasn’t answering my question.

  I pursed my lips. “She’s the Butcher? She’s really the person that killed all those Moroi? That made the diseases?”

  He shook his head before speaking. “There is no Butcher. I know, it’s a crazy thing, but Amy is doing good. There were too many humans, and she tried to stop that, and there are too many vampires, and she tried to slow down their population as well.”

  I sucked in a breath. “What do you mean there are too many humans? What did she do?”

  “The virus, we infect monkeys or birds. It’ll spread, you know.” He talked to himself, almost muttering. “Such a shame, what a waste!” The old man shook his head.

  “Was HIV created by Amy?”

  He looked at me confused and didn’t answer, his gnarled fingers tracing the newspaper in front of him.

  “Well, what about OVC, the Moroi plague? Am I wrong about that? Did she create that virus to kill Moroi?”

  “Ah, well, to kill vampires…she did create that.”

  Even though I knew someone had created it, I was shocked that it was true. I felt my jaw hang open. It was a horrible, terrible thing to make. Why would anyone do that?

  “What kind of vaccine or cure does she have for it?” I found myself shaking my head.

  “I’m not going to give you any of that.” The gun shook in his delicate old fingers.

  “Her research must be amazing, what she must know…” My mind reeled at the possibilities.

  “Nah, I’m not going to give you anything.” He stood and gestured with the gun. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  “What? No…I need..”

  “What you need is to leave.”

  I looked into his eyes and tried using compulsion on him. Since compulsion was science, I should be able to alter his brain waves. “You are going to show me where Amelia keeps her notes.”

  I was pretty good with compulsion, but he must’ve been taught how to fight it because he broke free from my hypnotic gaze and shot wildly into the trailer.

  Thankfully he missed me. “I said none of that mind control, missy! Chop chop, get out.”

  I held my hands up again, but before either of us moved, the door had burst open, and Karsten had a hold of the old man.

  “Are you hurt?” He asked me.

  I shook my head, then looked to the elderly man. His eyes were cloudy with cataracts. Fear and determination warred across his face.

  “I was serious when I said that we don’t want to hurt you, but if others find you, they won’t be so nice. They will kill you.” I told him sternly again, pursing my lips. “What is Amy to you anyway? Why are you protecting her? She’s a killer.”

  The old man refused to answer.

  When I looked up at Karsten, he shrugged and said, “Let’s take him with us. We can come back later.”

  I sighed heavily. “I guess we’ll be using that Chronos house after all.”

  “Chronos. Chronos?” The old man struggled in Sten’s grip, the gun laying on the floor.

  “Get the gun,” my Viking told me. I reached down and picked it up, clicking the safety on.

  “Is this the thanks we get for taking out two hit men intent on killing you today?” I asked.

  The old man was shaking, and it made me feel lower than dirt. His perspiration and rapid heart rate was like that of a caged animal.

  I was angry that he’d shot at me, but I had to calm him down somehow. “You need to relax. Can you tell me your name?” I picked up an envelope that sat on the counter. “David? Are you David Fourie?”

  He spat at me. “You’re an evil monster.”

  “Amy’s Moroi also, is she evil?”

  “Don’t you dare say her name!”

  Taking a deep breath, closing my eyes, I forced calming compulsion on him until his heart slowed.

  “Stay calm, and rest. Nothing’s wrong, we’re going to take care of you.” Then I looked up at Sten. “Let’s take his car to the safe house.”

  Sten shook his head. “We’ll drive his car to the restaurant and then put him in ours. Amy won’t be able to track the scent that way.”

  “Okay…” But before I could continue, we both heard the gate, located down the dirt driveway. Someone had triggered it, and it made a high-pitched squeal as it opened.

  Karsten carefully picked up the old man and deposited him in the back seat of the Buick. I threw him the keys and got into the passenger side.

  When a jeep came rumbling over the dirt and skittered to a halt, blocking us between it and a tree, I felt my stomach drop.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amy, dark hair in braids, jumped out of the vehicle. Her hands were in the air as she yelled at us.

  “Don’t you dare touch him! Leave him alone. If you touch even one hair on his body, I’ll gut you like a fish!” She was thousands of years old, from ancient Egypt, but her English was American with a slight Texan drawl. “Let him go!” Her voice was frantic and eyes wide.

  We all stood around the electric post and picnic table forming an odd group, except for David who watched mournfully from the car, still calm from my compulsion.

  Looking to Karsten, I asked, “Is she bluffing?”

  “I don’t think so.” We both opened our doors, and he trained his sidearm on her. “Amy?”

  She blinked back tears as her gaze spotted the old man. “David? Baby, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

  “Baby?” I said to Karsten–he shrugged, but his eyes didn’t leave the girl.

  “We just want to talk, Amy. I’m a friend of Aurev.”

  The girl before me was beautiful but didn’t even look old enough to drive. Her blue eyes contrasted with her tanned skin and black hair.

  “I don’t trust you,” she spat. “David’s innocent. Why would you do this to him?”

  Sten tilted his head and sighed. “Two hitmen tried to kill him today, and we saved his life. We’re here to talk to you about the disease you created. Maybe help you.”

  Her mouth formed an ‘O.’ “Yes, the vampire plague.” It was her turn to sigh. “I knew Aurev’s people would come asking about it now that it’s begun to spread so rapidly.”

  “Did you really create it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Kind of…” she said, looking down at her white Adidas, then back up at me. “It was a mistake. I told Aurev that. If you’re coming for a cure, there isn’t one.”

  I felt my hope drain out of me like a popped balloon.

  “What? Why
would you create something so deadly and then release it without having some way to cure it?”

  She scratched her skinny latte colored arm. “Come inside. Bring David… carefully!”

  After laying the old man in the back room, the three of us sat at the kitchen table.

  “I guess I’ll begin at the beginning. I met David years ago. He was a foreign exchange student, and I was going to high school here in Texas.”

  “Aurev said you’re from Egypt?”

  She drank some water from a dirty glass.

  “Yes, that’s right.” She tilted her head. “I was brought to the King… as a kind of pet.” She pointed to her eyes. “Because of my blue eyes. It was very unusual.” She pursed her lips. “How is Aurev?”

  “He’s fine, the same,” I whispered, reverently. Thinking about everything she’d lived through, everything she’d gone through and being so young for thousands of years.

  She pushed some used paper plates to the side of the table.

  “I found the cashbox in your house in Johannesburg.” I thought of the mum that I had found in the lockbox; David must’ve given it to her.

  She smiled to herself, and then it faded when she looked up. “David and I fell in love. Then he had to go back home. When he came back, he went to college here in the states, and we got back together…”

  I couldn’t help it, I cut her off with my question. “Why didn’t you turn him?”

  “I didn’t want to ruin him.” She smiled proudly. “Being what I am is a curse. I couldn’t do it to him.” She shook her head. “He begged and begged…”

  “Then you’d rather him just grow old and die? You could turn him now, and he’d transform back to his younger self.”

  “I can’t. I won’t do that to him. It’s wrong to be like us.”

  “But you’ve lived for thousands of years, why not him too?”

  She smiled frostily at me. “Because its blasphemy and the longer you live, the more you’ll feel it in your bones that it’s wrong to be what we are.”

  I could never understand, but then again, my ex-husband hadn’t wanted to become a Moroi like me.

  In time, I’d outlive my own children unless they were changed, but I was already making plans for them.