I start running up the rest of the hill, then start heading across Alamo Square.
The world is weird.
It looks like San Francisco, but only things with permanence are clear and solid and real, like buildings and trees. All the cars and people, the moving things, are pale ghosts, most too thin and transparent to really see properly.
And out of the corner of my eyes, there are sickly shadows moving along the side of a building.
I keep running, moving past the ghosts of people, through them sometimes, hit with a wave of nausea each time.
I hit Hayes Street, turn right down Laguna, and then I’m outside my apartment.
Ten blocks.
Ten fucking blocks away this whole time.
It’s not far enough either.
I just have to be quick.
I stare up at my parents’ apartment, but I don’t want to ambush them yet. I put my hand on my door, knowing it should be locked, but it turns with ease. Something tells me all the doors in this world are unlocked.
A slithering sound behind me makes me whirl around.
Shadows move along the sidewalk across the street. They’re human-sized shadows, black and grey, more solid than they should be. They sound like snakes and spider legs skittering.
I quickly jump into my apartment, shutting the door, locking it and then I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on bringing up that door again, dipping into the inner well.
When I open my eyes, the flames have formed, flickering with red and yellow, showcasing my dark apartment on the other side.
I quickly step through the door, back into the world of air and color and sound, and then the flames die out and the door to the otherworld fades.
What the hell was that?
I look down at my body, expecting it to be different, maybe for my tattoos to be back, maybe for my skin to be falling off or something scary. But I look exactly the same as I did at the party. I press my fingers against the necklace, the earrings, look down at my pointy, spiky shoes. I don’t have my tattoos back.
Fuck.
Still a fucking vampire.
I look around me.
Absolon was right. My place does stink like weed. I guess I had to be away from it long enough to notice.
I laugh, a small pathetic laugh, looking around at everything, marveling at having this place back.
You don’t have it back. You can’t stay here.
But my heart doesn’t know that yet.
I collapse into the chair at the kitchen table, head buried in my arms, bursting into tears.
I have it all back, but I have nothing at all.
Parents who aren’t my parents.
Friends that don’t know my truth.
A future that doesn’t seem so promising anymore when there’s someone like Absolon out there who I know will hunt me down. It won’t even take him long before he’s dragging me back to the house.
They’re coming, a voice says inside my head. You can smell them.
I lift my head, breathing in deeply.
The rosemary, fennel, and palo santo of my mother, my father’s sandalwood cologne.
I turn in my seat to see them through the glass, standing outside the door, peering inside.
“She’s in there!” my mother cries out softly, my keen ears picking it up.
“Careful, Elaine. We don’t know what state she’s in,” my father warns.
Careful? Of me? Do they think…I’m going to attack them?
Suddenly I get a huge push of negative energy off of them, coming right through the door, putting images of a blade in my head, six inches long, curved and sparkling with blue electricity.
Fuck, is that the knife they kill vampires with? What did Solon call it, blade of the mordernes?
I get to my feet with such force, the chair scatters across the kitchen floor, hitting the stove.
The front door opens and they step inside.
“Stay right there!” I yell at them. “Don’t come any closer!”
They stay where they are, but my father closes the door behind him.
“We don’t mean any harm, Lenore,” my father says, showing both his hands in a show of peace.
“You’re vampire slayers,” I say, feeling the anger rolling through me. “How can you not harm me?!”
“Lenore, sweetie,” my mother says in her patient voice, but it’s cracking, and the more that I stare at them and see the fear, smell their adrenaline, I realize the strain they’re under. They’re as scared as I am.
“Don’t,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Don’t try…I can’t…”
“I know you’re upset. I know this is a lot to take in,” my father says, his voice booming. He takes a step closer and I shrink back, hitting the kitchen table. So much for standing my ground.
“I know that you probably have a lot of questions for us, and we have questions for you,” he goes on.
“We need to know where you’ve been,” my mother says. “Who took you. We know someone did, but we don’t…we need to take action on the person who did this to you.”
She gestures to me and I look down at my dress.
I’m about to tell her that I think I look okay, when my necklace grows hot against my skin, and my nose floods with the smell of roses and tobacco. I look to the bedroom to see Absolon in his black suit walk out of the darkness, his eyes fixed on my parents.
My heart skips a beat.
“It was me,” he says to them, as cool and calm as ever.
My mother’s mouth drops open. “Absolon?” she asks as my father takes the blade out of his pocket, glowing blue in his hand.
Absolon eyes the blade, lip curling. “Really? How quickly you stab others in the back. Or the front, as it is. This wouldn’t be a sanctioned kill, James.”
“You took our daughter,” my mother spits out.
“You took a vampire’s daughter,” he counters evenly. “And killed them. Unsanctioned. I know what the guild would do to you.”
My mother makes a move for him. But she must know it’s pointless.
He’s just a blur and then he’s pulling me aside, stepping behind me, one arm around my waist, the other gripping my throat. I cry out but the sound dies inside me.
“Don’t be foolish,” he says to them, his voice low and scathing and rumbling in my ear. “You kill me, you have to kill her.” He pauses. My pulse beats against his palm. “Unless you were planning to do that anyway. Why else would you have that blade with you?”
“To defend her from vampires like you,” my mother says, and the moon is starting to appear in her eyes. This isn’t good, for anyone, but especially me.
Solon, I say inside my head, his grip on my throat too strong for words. Leave me.
Why would I do that? he answers in surprise. You’re mine, Lenore. You know this. And more than that, you need me now. You need me to survive.
“Tell me,” he says to my parents, voice deep in the room. “When you were planning to take Lenore to the desert, were you planning on helping her? Or killing her?”
“We were going to help her,” my father says.
“How? You have no idea what it’s like to become a vampire. You only know how to kill us. You’ve never spent a single second trying to understand us, not even when your so-called daughter is one of us.”
“You don’t know that,” my mother says to him. Then she looks at me. “Don’t listen to him. You don’t know who he is, the things he does.”
Solon releases my throat to let me speak. “Believe me,” I say, coughing briefly. “I know exactly what he does.”
“Then let us kill him,” my father pleads, taking another step forward, that blade shimmering. “Let us kill him, then you won’t be bound to him anymore. He won’t be able to hurt you.”
Solon grumbles into my neck. “Think they’ll take the shot if it means hitting you in the process?”
My father has the blade at the ready.
Solon might be right.
&nb
sp; “Listen to me, Lenore,” Solon says tightly, his hushed voice making my skin grow hot. “I’m going to leave you now, because this isn’t worth the risk.”
“Coward,” my father says.
Absolon growls at him, his grip growing tighter around my waist. “I’m leaving you,” he says to me gruffly, “because the risk of you getting killed isn’t worth it.”
I flinch, going inside my head. Liar, I tell him. You were about to let a bunch of vampires sample my blood and bleed me before taking me away to do who knows what with me.
No, he says sharply, the sound like knives in my skull. I never had any intention of selling you. You’re worth more to me than anything they could give me in exchange.
I have a hard time believing him. Then…then why did you do all of that?
So they know what I have. You.
I swallow hard. I thought you didn’t show off.
He laughs, a puff of cold air at my neck. I’m always adapting.
“Whatever he’s telling you is a lie, Lenore!” my mother yells at us, and I’m somewhat relieved to know that she can’t drop in on our internal conversation.
You know where to find me, he says to me. And now you know how to get there too. Through the Black Sunshine.
The what?
But then he’s letting go of me, moving fast, and my father throws the blade, trying to track him.
It’s too late.
Absolon has disappeared and the blue-tinged blade goes right into the wall.
I stare at it, mouth open.
Why did my parents really bring it downstairs? Did they know someone like Solon would show up? Or was it for me all along?
“Lenore,” my mother says in a small voice. “Please. We don’t mean you any harm. We never did. We saved you.”
“You killed my parents,” I whisper, the walls in the apartment feeling like they’re closing in on me.
“You never knew your parents,” she says.
“But they were still my parents!” I scream. “That woman gave birth to me. You never did!”
“She wasn’t a woman, Lenore.”
“Fuck you! Just fuck you. Then what am I? Huh, what am I? Not human? Just some creature now?”
She’s shaking her head, tears spilling down. “You’re part human, it’s enough humanity to take over.”
“I’m part witch,” I tell them. “Aren’t I?”
My parents exchange a glance.
“We have so much to tell you,” my father says to me gently.
I stare at them, feeling the betrayal start to hit.
“Why,” I cry out. “Why did you keep this from me?”
“We had to,” my mother says, pressing her palms together. “We didn’t know what was going to happen. How much vampire blood was in you. We didn’t know what side would have won out.” She closes her eyes. “Vampires don’t turn until they’re older, but they still know what they are innately. You didn’t have that.”
“Because we prevented it,” my father says quietly.
“James,” my mother hisses at him. “You make it sound so simple.”
“You stopped me from being who I really am!” I yell, the words ripping out of me. “I spent my whole life feeling like I was different, and not in a good way. People have always been afraid to get close to me and now I know why. They couldn’t. You stopped them. You stopped me from getting to know myself too!”
A low rumble spreads throughout the apartment, like a truck rolling past us on the street, but I ignore it. “Who is my real father? He’s a witch. Not a vampire. Who is he?”
The rumbling increases, now the ground is starting to move underneath my feet.
An earthquake.
I remain where I am, the anger and fear and frustration coursing through me until it’s hard to think straight.
“Lenore, calm down,” my mother says, her voice shaking along with the apartment.
“I will not calm down!” The cupboards open and dishes start to slide out with the shaking room, crashing to the floor.
At some point I should get under the table, right?
But an earthquake is the least of my worries.
My father pitches to the right, the counter holding him up as he moves toward me. “Lenore, please.”
I shake my head, tears welling up. “Stay away from me. You’re not my father. You’re a liar.”
The earthquake increases, the vase toppling off the kitchen table and onto the floor, smashing to pieces.
“Lenore, you’re doing this,” my father says, reaching for me. “You’ll hurt the whole damn city.”
I stare at him numbly. “What?” I whisper.
Then before I can move, my father is beside me, grabbing me and pulling me into him, holding me against his chest until I can hear his heartbeat. He lays a hand on my head and immediately I feel my blood slow, my breaths growing even. He’s doing something to me, calming me, a golden warmth spreading from the top of my head down to my toes.
The shaking subsides.
The earthquake stops.
Outside, car alarms fill the neighborhood.
“Just breathe, my daughter,” he says to me, voice deep and soothing.
I’m still so angry. The rage inside me flares like fire coming alive again.
But the energy he’s putting into me is tempering it, a warm breeze that puts the fire out.
“Come over here,” he says gently, putting his arm around me and leading me into the living room, sitting me down on the couch.
I’m in a daze, and I’m hurting so badly, so deeply, scars that will never show on the outside, but I’m no longer afraid. The pain is a dull throb in my heart.
My mother disappears and then comes out with a blanket, placing it over my shoulders, and I’m surprised to discover how cold I am. I thought I wasn’t supposed to get cold anymore?
“I don’t understand any of this,” I whisper as I sink back into the couch.
“I know,” my mother says, her hand at my forehead, the touch comforting despite the turmoil of my emotions churning darkly inside me. “We’ve been trying to, for so long.”
“We’ll all have to figure it out together,” my father says, sitting on the coffee table across from me, his hand around my wrist, keeping the sedative effect flowing through me. “But please, you must believe us when we say we mean you no harm. We brought the blade because we sensed you were down here and didn’t know if you were alone.”
“You have to trust us, Lenore,” my mother says. “We’re the only ones who can protect you now.”
I don’t know how much of that is true.
My eyes begin to close, tiredness seeping into my bones, but regardless of how badly I want to sleep, I need to stay awake.
“Happy belated birthday,” my mother whispers to me.
I open my eyes and blink. “When was it?”
“Yesterday.”
The concept of days seems to have no meaning anymore. I guess that’s what happens when you can live forever.
If I even can.
I clear my throat. “I guess the worst is over then.”
They exchange a look over my head.
“What?” I ask.
My mother pushes loose strands of hair back from my face. “There have been stories of people who are both witch and vampire. As you can imagine, the instances are rare. Vampires have impregnated witches before, but the children don’t usually survive very long. But never has a witch done this to a vampire.”
“Why not?”
Another harried glance.
“To put it simply, vampires are seductive. Driven by both blood and sex. Witches aren’t like that. Despite the hate and natural revulsion between the species, vampires are good at getting what they want, and sometimes even the most powerful spells can’t ward them off.”
“A male witch being attracted to a vampire doesn’t happen,” my father adds.
“What if the female vampire compels him?” I ask, not appreciating this double standard, as
if men are so noble.
“Maybe,” my mother says. “But why would Alice do that? Why not just leave Hakan then?”
“Pretty sure you can’t just leave a vampire for a witch,” I tell them.
“Then why carry a witch’s child? It makes no sense,” she says with a shake of her head.
“It’s something we’ve been trying to figure out,” my father says. “We’ve gotten nowhere. It’s not easy when you’ve been kept a secret from the only people who might know.”
“People like Atlas Poe?”
“Poe doesn’t know what he knows. He’s new to all of this. Unfortunately, that means he has something to prove.”
I lick my lips. “So then how do you both know Absolon?” I pause. “Does he even have a last name?”
“Vampire last names are always changing,” my mother says in a stiff voice. “But we’ve always known him as Absolon Stavig.”
“And he’s a monster,” my father interjects, a vein bulging in his forehead. To my relief, I feel no bloodlust on my behalf, just a father’s protectiveness. “I can’t even…I can’t let myself imagine what he put you through.” His voice goes quiet, eyes on fire. “What he made you do.”
“He didn’t make me do anything,” I tell him, feeling defensive even though I shouldn’t. The things I had done to me I wanted done to me. I think about Wolf between my legs, Absolon watching me, enraptured.
“That’s what he wants you to think,” my mother says. “They compel people.”
“He didn’t compel me,” I tell him, though I know that wasn’t true on a few occasions, like when I got into the ice bath. “It puzzled him that he couldn’t. I think it kept me alive, to be honest.”
“So he was trying to kill you.”
I shake my head, avoiding their eyes. “No. He wasn’t.”
I thought he was. But if he’s being truthful about never intending to sell me, then that changes things. Why didn’t he just tell me that instead of keeping me in fear?
Because fear is his upper hand.
“He would have fed off you, drunk your blood,” my father says.
I shake my head again. “No. He never did.”
“Oh, come on,” my mother says with a huff of irritation. “He’s a fucking vampire. That’s what they do.”
My mother rarely swears. It raises my brow. “I’m a fucking vampire too now. I don’t see myself drinking your blood. Maybe he’s just really good at controlling himself.”
Black Sunshine Page 17
