Hopeless: A Vision of Vampires 2

by Laura Legend

  She had to get a grip. Miranda was the key. For the moment, Cass just needed to focus her hope and attention on Miranda.

  “Cass!” Zach called, hauling her back into the present.

  A vampire emerged from a side room and Cass ducked as he took a swing at her head. He missed. Cass punched him in the knee, crippling him for a moment, while Dogen backhanded him into the wall, crippling him for the foreseeable future.

  They reached the end of the hallway without seeing any sign of Miranda. Zach waited for everyone to gather at the door with him, listening for sounds of movement on the far side. He pushed the door open and the four of them emerged from the main building and into the compound’s central courtyard.

  The courtyard was a melee. Rain poured down from black clouds. Lightning intermittently cracked in the sky. Bodies from both the Shield and the Lost were strewn about. Screams filled the air. And, even through the gusts of wind and pounding rain, Cass could detect the warm, copper scent of blood hovering amid it all. The stark reality of the stakes in this war were evident everywhere, even if Cass didn’t understand what those stakes actually were.

  Zach signaled the direction he wanted to go. Kumiko nodded agreement—the building at the far end of the courtyard offered the most direct access to the Underside. Zach counted backward from three with his fingers and they all took off sprinting across the courtyard.

  Zach continued to lead the way. Dogen shielded Kumiko, hovering behind her with his bulk. Cass brought up the rear. However, halfway across the courtyard, Cass’s forward momentum ground to a halt directly in front of the ancient well that lay at the center of the entire compound.

  Cass could feel something in the well calling to her.

  She felt a deep, magnetic throb drawing her toward it. It pulsed, like a heart, with a regular rhythm. It pulsed like something deep inside of it was alive. For Cass, it felt like she’d been recognized as she’d tried to run past.

  The rain fell even harder, plastering Cass’s clothes to her body. She was soaked through. Just behind her, a Shield guard struggled with a feral vampire. Arrows whizzed all around, nocked and released from the guard towers that overlooked the courtyard.

  Cass ignored it all. She stood there as if she were alone.

  The well itself was wide, lined with stones, and covered with a wood shingle roof. The roof was attached on both sides to a pair of tree trunks that straddled the well. The tree trunks were knotted, pruned of all but their main branches, and anchored deep in the ground by a massive root system that sprawled across the entire courtyard, interfering with row after neat row of cobblestones. The trunks themselves twisted as they reached upward toward the rain and the sun.

  Cass ran her hand along the smooth surface of one trunk and felt like she’d just plugged herself into an electric outlet. The force and clarity of the original pulse was magnified. It ran up her arm and straight into her head, obliterating the thought of anything other than the message it conveyed: “Come.”

  A stray arrow embedded itself in the trunk of the tree just above the spot where Cass had placed her hand, reverberating in the wood.

  Realizing what had happened to Cass, Zach flew back across the courtyard to retrieve her, cursing himself for not recognizing the danger to her in advance. A vampire in a leather corset had crept up behind Cass. Zach arrived just in time to toss her over the side and down into the depths of the well. The woman screamed for a long time as she fell—though, ultimately, there was no audible splash indicating that she’d reached the bottom.

  Zach peeled Cass’s hand from the trunk of the tree, breaking the connection, and squeezed it. With his other hand, he turned Cass toward him, gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and said, “Come with me, Beautiful. We’ll come back to this later.”

  Zach pulled her along with him toward the far end of the courtyard. The wind howled and the rain pounded. The farther they went, the more Cass returned to herself and the stronger her legs felt beneath her.

  “What was that?” Cass asked when they stopped for a moment at the entrance to the second building.

  “Miranda first, Cass,” Zach urged, pushing through the door. “We just have to worry about Miranda first. There’s a lot we’ll have to sort through later.”

  “Right,” Cass agreed, giving her head a shake to clear it. “Miranda first.”

  Dogen and Kumiko were waiting for them. This building, while old, was clearly newer than the first. As they worked their way deeper into the building, it became obvious to Cass that Zach had a particular destination in mind. There was someplace in particular where he expected they might find Miranda. However, as they rushed past a pair of large double doors that opened onto a massive library, Cass felt a tug that made her second guess him.

  One of the doors to the library was slightly ajar.

  “Zach,” Cass said, reeling him back in, “I think she’s in here.”

  Zach looked unsure but, as soon as Cass had said it, she felt the truth of it. Cass knew she was right.

  Miranda was in there.

  When Zach saw Cass’s expression, he called Kumiko and Dogen back as well.

  “Miranda is in here,” he said, his voice conveying the confidence he had in Cass.

  Together, the four of them pushed through the double doors and entered the library. The library was vast and labyrinthine and deep in shadow. Stack after stack of books receded into the darkness.

  Only after their eyes had adjusted did they notice that the walls and ceiling of the library were crawling with Lost. And only after they realized this did they hear a voice that was recognizably Miranda’s cry out in surprise, echoing indistinctly in the middle distance.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  If there was a pattern to how the library’s stacks were laid out, it wasn’t obvious to Cass. It seemed, instead, like the layout was meant as a test, a test designed to see if you were smart enough to find the book you wanted.

  The opening rows of books were arranged in relation to the entrance as concentric circles radiating outward. At several points, both on the ends and in between, the stacks parted, allowing the patron to pass deeper into the maze. But these entry points never opened onto a single through-line that would take you from one end of the library to the other. Going deeper would always require a winding, wandering investment of time. In this sense, the library was designed as an architectural affront to anyone in a hurry. Wisdom, the architecture said, is only for the patient.

  “Shit,” Cass said, tapping her foot impatiently as she took in both the stacks and the feral Lost who’d infested them. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  The bigger problem was that they weren’t looking for a book with a specific call number, they were looking for a person. And, unlike a book, Miranda wasn’t going to stay put while they searched for her. As a result, Miranda was as likely to be found by someone who knew their way around the library as someone who didn’t.

  Kumiko took charge now, signaling that they should each take one of the four entrances. The more ground they could quickly cover, the better. They just had to not die while doing it.

  Cass took the second opening from the left. She advanced quickly and quietly down the first row, her sword raised and ready. She took the first opening she found and wound deeper into the maze. Some of the shelves contained printed books, some contained leather bound manuscripts, and others contained scrolls and artifacts.

  Cass hadn’t gone very far when she saw a shadowy figure drop from the ceiling into the aisle one row over. She heard Zach cry out and a scuffle ensue. Zach was thrown against the shelves closest to Cass and they rocked backward, threatening to topple over, before settling back into place. Zach was pinned against the shelves, struggling to keep the vampire’s fangs at arm’s length.

  Cass took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and plunged her sword through the stack, under Zach’s arm, and into the vampire’s heart. The vampire combusted in a shower of ash that left Zach coughing. He looked down to see the blade just inches
from his own ribs, a copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover impaled on the end.

  “You’re welcome,” Cass whispered as Zach pulled the book free and Cass withdrew the blade. Before Zach could say anything in response, Cass darted down her aisle, took the next opening, and left him standing there with the book open to page fifty-seven.

  Zach tossed the book aside, waved away the cloud of ash, and continued. He hadn’t gone more than two additional turns when he caught sight of Dogen’s head bobbing above the neighboring stack, lumbering along. Even the faint light coming through the far windows was enough for Dogen’s head to produce a tempting silhouette for their enemies.

  Two Lost, crawling along the tops of the stacks from opposite directions, converged on Dogen’s position. Dogen spotted the first one right away—the tops of the stacks were basically eye-level for him. But while he reached to snag the first one, the second leapt from behind, clearing two rows in one jump, and fastened itself with feral claws to Dogen’s shoulders and back. Distracted by the attack from behind, Dogen missed his grab for the first and paid the price when it dodged his hand and slashed a deep, bloody line down the length of his arm.

  “I’m coming, big guy,” Zach said, scaling the stacks and swinging over the top. He lead with his feet, connecting squarely with the vampire draped around Dogen’s shoulders, dislodging him. Free of that impediment, Dogen ripped the first from its perch on the shelves and swung it to the ground, beating it against the floor like a dirty rug. The vampire made a series of soft, squishy noises, then went silent. Dogen wheeled around, still holding the first body by the foot, and roared. Zach took the hint and dodged between his legs, out of the way, and Dogen wrapped things up by using the first one as a club for beating the second.

  “Appreciate that,” Dogen said, stepping over the bodies and continuing along his way.

  Cass, meanwhile, was deep in the stacks, nearing the bay of windows along the west wall. She’d heard various scuffles unfold around the library but hadn’t caught any sign of Miranda since the initial cry that drew them in. She’d almost come to the end of another row when a vampire in jeans, a black t-shirt, sunglasses, and a pair of short swords turned the corner. They came as close to bumping into each other—both of them startled—as is possible for two people with three swords.

  “Shit!” Mr. Sunglasses yelped in a high pitched voice before he remembered that Cass was supposed to be afraid of him, not the other way around. He bared his teeth, trying to make up for his initial reaction. Cass bared her perfect teeth in return—four years of braces plus teeth whitening in high school—and the man, again, was brought up short.

  There was very little room to maneuver in the aisle. Short strokes, lunges, and narrow parries were all they could manage. Cass had the longer blade, but Mr. Sunglasses had the advantage in height, strength, and number of weapons.

  Cass went for his right arm, trying to draw blood and render that arm useless. Mr. Sunglasses, though, had some serious training—he’d probably been sword-fighting for hundreds of years—and turned the tables on Cass, slicing through her jeans and leaving a bloody nick on the inside of her thigh.

  “You asshole!” Cass shot back, enjoying the felt immediacy of her own anger. “I work for minimum wage. How many favorite pairs of jeans do you think I’ve got?”

  Before she could retaliate, though, a heavy book tinged with a faint green glow flew off the shelf next to Mr. Sunglasses’s head, smashed into the side of his face, and knocked him sideways. His sunglasses went flying off.

  Cass didn’t know what to call him now.

  The guy looked flustered. Just moments ago they’d been having a nice sword-fight and now all that was out the window. He wasn’t sure how to defend himself against both Cass and the bookshelves. A second book flew off the opposite shelf, crashing into his knee, hobbling him. Then a third, fourth, and fifth book simultaneously launched themselves from the shelves, battering his head, stomach, and groin.

  Cass took a couple steps back, giving—whatever this was—room to unfold.

  Whole shelves were emptying themselves now, followed by the stack itself tilting and burying the bruised and stunned vampire. The upended stack, though, also had a domino effect and the two remaining rows that separated Cass from the bay of windows on the far side of the library also toppled over. The whole library echoed cacophonously with books falling and wood splintering.

  As the dust settled, Kumiko peeked around the corner from one aisle back, with a mischievious smile on her face, her eyes glinting green.

  “Uh, thanks,” Cass managed. “And my wardrobe thanks you, too.”

  Cass seized the opening created by the downed stacks and, scaling the toppled structures, took the direct route to the windows. While they weren’t going to sneak up on anyone after that racket, they could at least make up for lost time. Kumiko followed.

  Once Cass had scrambled across the shelves and catapulted herself off the far end, she found herself in an open reading area with small groups of desks, lamps, and chairs. The bay of windows extended two-stories from the floor to the ceiling. The wind and rain pounded against the glass with enough force that Cass wondered how long they could bear the punishment. When another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, the glass rattled in response to the thunder and, with the whole room exposed in the flash of light, Cass could clearly see that she and Kumiko were not alone.

  Toward the far end of this open space, a throng of Lost were gathered in a circle, heads bowed, all facing inward. Miranda and a hooded figure stood at the center, a respectful distance buffering them from the mass of teeth and claws gathered around them.

  The hooded figure—the Heretic—was clearly in charge.

  The figure was holding Miranda’s hand—not gently and not violently, but firmly, commandingly. She leaned closer and whispered something in Miranda’s ear. Miranda took it in, absorbing what she’d been told, silent and unmoving, suspended on the razor’s edge of a decision.

  Cass could barely breath. Her feet felt like cement blocks, like the shadows around her had reached out and pinned her in place.

  Then the scales tipped, Miranda’s face registered a decision, and she leaned toward the hooded figure and, in return, whispered something in their ear.

  The Heretic drew back in a gesture that registered both regret and resignation.

  “Are you sure?” the figure’s powerful, strange voice asked, cracking.

  “Yes,” Miranda said, her resolve hardening around the sadness and anger displayed on her face. “Yes, I’m sure. I can’t go back. This is the only way forward.”

  When the hooded figure wavered in response, Miranda snapped, “Now. Be quick.”

  Tugging the collar of her shirt out of the way, Miranda bared her pale, slender neck and the hooded figure, fangs glinting in a flash of lightning, sunk them into Miranda’s throat.

  “No . . .” Cass whispered, still unable to catch her breath or find the strength to move.

  When the hooded figure withdrew, trails of blood from both puncture wounds streamed down Miranda’s neck, soaking the front of her shirt. Miranda slumped. She wavered on the brink of losing her balance and collapsing to the floor. She looked, Cass thought, like she was about to die. But, at the last moment, her body stiffened and she brushed right past death’s door to arrive at something else, at something that was neither life nor death. As her body stiffened, Miranda drew herself up to her full height. But she didn’t stop there. With a visible surge, her body drew itself up taller than her full height, her shoulders now broader than their full breadth, her muscles now stronger than their full strength. With her hands clenched at her sides, Miranda threw back her head as if she intended to laugh but, instead, revealed her own razor sharp teeth.

  Miranda was Lost.

  “No!” Cass shouted again, this time finding her voice.

  In response to that cry, the whole horde of Lost—some feral, some not—woke from the spell that had mesmerized them. Every head pivoted and every eye lock
ed on Cass.