by Helen Bell
He handed me a helmet and threw his leg over his bike. “He is, but I don’t believe he’d hurt your sister. Hop on. I know where he may be.”
Gideon drove us to a middle-class neighborhood and parked across from a two-story Victorian-style house. I was expecting a scary scarred dude, so I was surprised when a woman opened the door. A human, she looked to be in her late forties, black circles under her eyes. Aside from a few wrinkles, her dark brown skin was smooth. She donned blue pants and a finely knitted white cardigan, her brown, curly hair reaching her shoulders. The dude’s wife, maybe?
A warm smile broke across her lips. “Oh, my dear lord. Gideon, is that really you? Come over here.” She rose to her toes to hug him.
“Olivia, good to see you, too.” He leaned down to return the hug. She motioned for us to come in and led us to the living room.
A large couch sat against the wall to our right. A flat-screen TV was opposite it. In front of us, there was a fireplace with a framed wedding photo on the mantel. The groom was tall with short, natural blond hair, blue eyes, and no scar on his face. He was behind the bride—Olivia—arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace. His wife was Olivia, and she was not a vampire. Who was she?
Gideon sat on the couch. I joined him. A picture of a girl about my age rested on the coffee table before us. Shiny curly hair hung down to her shoulders, and a wide, white grin plastered her face, her skin the color of chocolate.
“B negative? Or you prefer O positive like Thomas?” Olivia asked Gideon.
“I’ve already fed. I’m good.”
She looked at me. “And you, dear?”
“A glass of water, please. Thank you.”
When she stepped out of the living room, I whispered, “Who is she? Why are we here?”
He opened his mouth, then seemed to register the picture on the coffee table. Focus switching to it, he stayed quiet.
“Gideon?” I prompted.
Olivia returned with a tray holding a bottle of water and a glass.
“Where’s Kyla? Why is her picture here and not in her bedroom?” Worry laced his tone.
Looking confused, she put down the tray on the coffee table and sat in the love seat in front of us. “I thought you came by because Thomas spoke with you.”
“He didn’t. I heard he’s in town, so I assumed he was here. What’s going on, Olivia? Where’s Kyla?”
So the scarred face has a name: Thomas.
Olivia rubbed her eyes tiredly. “A few months ago, I got a call from her. It was Nathan’s one-year death anniversary. Can you believe it’s been a year since he died in that car crash?” She paused. Sorrow filled her eyes as she turned to look at the wedding photo on the mantel. Turning her gaze back to Gideon, she continued. “Kyla sounded different. At first, I thought it was because she missed her father, but she didn’t mention him at all.
“She told me it’d be our last conversation because she’d met new friends and was going to start a new life with them far away from here.” Olivia took a deep breath, as if it’d give her some inner strength, then went on, “She was seeing a boy behind my back. I can’t fathom why she’d hide him from me. On the phone, I asked her if he had anything to do with her abrupt decision. She wouldn’t answer, only demanded I didn’t contact her ever again. I did, though. Her cell phone is disconnected, and none of her friends know where she is.”
What Kyla said to her mother sounded similar to what Zoey told Philippe and my parents.
“Why was I kept in the dark?” Anger raised Gideon’s voice an octave.
She sighed. “You had your hands full with other matters. I didn’t want to burden you with this.”
“Dammit, Olivia. You and Kyla are more important. If I had known, I would’ve left everything to help.”
“There was no need; Thomas flew in to help. It was enough.”
“My sister suddenly decided to leave and cut all contact with her friends and family,” I piped up. “Thomas was in touch with her before it happened. Has he mentioned a girl named Zoey?”
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear, but no, he hasn’t. I’ll pray for her as well.”
“Where is he now?” Gideon asked her.
“Back in New York City. Yesterday someone messaged him, saying they had information that might help find Kyla. Thomas set up a meeting with him tonight at a place called Wo Hop. It’s in—”
“Brooklyn.” I finished her sentence, my voice trembling a bit. It was my mother’s favorite Chinese restaurant. When Zoey and I had been younger, we used to dine there a lot with my mom and dad. Memories flooded my mind, making me sad. I missed my parents.
I felt Gideon’s stare on me when she said, “Yes, in Brooklyn. Are you from New York City?”
“I am,” I answered, hoping I didn’t sound depressed.
“Olivia, I apologize,” Gideon said, “but we must go now. I need to talk to Thomas to see who he’s meeting with.” He stood up.
She followed suit, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Please find my baby. I can’t lose her too.”
He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I guarantee you I will do anything I can to find Kyla.”
Outside her house, Gideon exchanged texts with someone as we moved toward his bike.
When he stuffed his cell phone back into his jacket, I faced him. “There are lots of similarities between Zoey and Kyla’s disappearance. It could be a coincidence, but I don’t believe that. Who’s Kyla? You and her mother seem pretty close. Who is she to you?”
I saw the reservation on his face and expected him to refuse to answer, yet he did. “Olivia was married to Nathan, and Nathan’s fifth great grandmother, Clara, saved my life once. I’ll be forever grateful to her and always protect her descendants.” He fished out his motor key from his jacket pocket.
I caught his arm before he mounted his bike. Hoping he’d open up to me, I pushed. “What’s the whole story?”
He grew silent. I retrieved my hand, staying in my place. Silence.
“The demon king, Damon, and I were never on the best terms,” he finally said. “Damon constantly tries to kill me, and I kinda wish he’d stop because quite frankly, it’s getting tiring.” He leaned against his bike, his expression turning dark. “One of those attempts happened in 1858. I was tricked into drinking demon blood, which is highly addictive to my kind. One pint of it is enough to weaken any vampire, making us incapable of thinking clearly or fighting.
“Too weak to resist, I was captured by Damon. He threw me into a cage, and I was deprived of blood. After a week and a half of starvation, he released me in a densely populated rural area. Any starved vampire—Ancient, Adult, or Newborn—is like a wild animal, controlled by basic instincts and not reason. In that state, I was dangerous, loosed in a village full of sleeping people, frantically searching for blood, for killing. Then Damon showed up with a child in his hand. He was about five years old, fragile and innocent. Damon pushed him toward me and left.”
I was horrified. “Why not just kill you and be done with it?”
“He wanted me to suffer. Murdering an innocent child would’ve tormented me for eternity.”
“Whoa, he really hates your guts. Why?”
“We have a complicated history.” Clearly not going to expand on this, he continued with the story. “When my eyes fell on the child’s pounding artery, my senses went crazy. I leaped on him, drinking like a savage while he screamed and cried. I couldn’t control myself. His heartbeat slowed, and he was close to death. A young woman emerged from the darkness. Her name was Clara, and she knew what I was. ‘Drink from my vein. Take me instead,’ she shouted, slitting her wrist.
“Her frightened voice helped me regain control, enough to detach myself from the boy’s neck. Resisting the smell of her blood, I screamed at her to take the boy and run away from me. She picked him up in her arms and disappeared back into the darkness. Before I murdered everyone in that village, I pulled out my silver dagger Damon let me keep in the cage. I was ready to die when
the young woman returned without the child. She hit me over the back of my head and knocked me unconscious, so I wouldn’t kill her.
“When I woke up, I was restrained to a bed. She nursed me back to sanity, giving me her blood every day until I had full control over myself again. That night Clara saved the boy, my existence, and my soul.”
What Clara had done was noble. She hadn’t had to come back for Gideon, a stranger and a crazed vampire. I looked at Olivia’s house. The lights were out, however, I doubted she was getting some shut-eye. How could she? Her husband died last year, and now her daughter had left. I understood why Gideon felt obligated to help, but what about Thomas’s reasons?
“What’s Thomas’s connection to Olivia?”
“A few years after Clara saved me, she got married and had a daughter, Josephine. When Josephine was ten, she wandered off while playing with her friends. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, she witnessed a human named Arthur Price, a corrupt local politician, committing a murder. Josephine screamed, revealing herself, and he chased after her. After she escaped him, he hired a contract killer to do his dirty work for him. Josephine told her mother about the murder. Afraid Arthur would harm her daughter, Clara reached out to me. I took her family into my house where they’d be safe and then went to Arthur’s mansion to kill him.
When I sneaked into his house, I heard him talking to an assassin vampire with a scar on his face.”
“Thomas is one of you? How come he doesn’t have perfect skin?” I stopped him.
“Yes, he’s a vampire. For an unknown reason, the Change didn’t erase his scars as it should have.”
“Is he really a hit man?”
“One of the deadliest. He was a member of an elite organization of vampire assassins.” How could Thomas agree to murder Josephine? She’d been just a kid. It disgusted me.
“What happened next? Please don’t tell me he offed that little girl,” I said.
“I was about to dagger the vampire and slit the human’s throat when the latter collapsed to the ground. Thomas had drained him of blood and life.”
“He killed the dirty politician? Why?” I asked.
“Thomas has a code—no children. When Arthur contacted him about Josephine, Thomas didn’t turn down the job since he figured if he did, Arthur would hire someone else. Intending to kill him to protect the child, Thomas demanded a meeting in person under the pretense of wanting half of his payment in advance.”
“And then Josephine was saved?”
“No, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Before Arthur died, he divulged that he’d hired a second vampire assassin for the job because he sensed the reluctance in Thomas’s voice on the phone. As Thomas and I searched for the other assassin, Elijah, to kill him, the demon king’s spies were snooping around, asking questions about who I was guarding. To protect Josephine and keep her away from the demons, Thomas offered to take her and her family to his house in London while I dealt with the demons and Elijah. It was a good plan. However, after I killed the assassin and Damon’s spies, I found out that Clara and her husband didn’t survive the journey to London. They died from consumption.” There was sadness in his voice.
I shook my head. “Poor Josephine. Not only was she ripped from her home, but she also became an orphan.”
“Thomas raised her as his own since I couldn’t. If Damon knew she was important to me, he would have used her as leverage against me.” He pulled out the helmet from his bike’s side, then handed it to me.
I took the helmet but didn’t put it on yet. “So that’s Thomas’s connection to Olivia? He’s her husband’s great-great-great-great-great-grandfather?”
“Yes.”
My mouth opened to ask more questions about his past, but he swung his leg over his bike, ready to leave. He wasn’t in a sharing mood anymore.
“Gideon, it’s important I speak with Thomas about Zoey,” I said instead.
“And you will. I already texted him.”
I sighed and put on the helmet, then hopped on behind him, and we drove off. I thought we were heading home, so I was confused when we parked outside Audrey’s apartment building.
“Why are we here?” I asked, pulling off the helmet.
He slid off the bike. “We’re flying out to New York City to meet Thomas at Wo Hop, which is where he’s arranged a meeting with the human who has information about Kyla. Before we do that, though, we’ll make a quick stop at your parents’ house.” He started walking toward Audrey’s building and added, “Audrey will cast a spell to change your appearance, so you can talk to them.”
I caught up with him. “You mean I’m gonna see my parents when we’re in Brooklyn?” My voice boomed with excitement.
“You miss them, don’t you?” he said as we were buzzed inside Audrey’s building.
I nodded, smiling at him, and we got into the elevator. Opening the door to her apartment, Audrey regarded us with confusion. Gideon apologized for coming unannounced and explained why we had dropped by. Without hesitation, she agreed to help.
“What do you want to look like?” she asked me.
“A girl my age, the rest I don’t care.”
“No problem, but unlike a regular illusion, this will take some time. It’s a hard spell, which by the way works only on mortals.” Her eyes turned white as she mumbled something that sounded like Latin. After a short while, she said, “It’s done.”
I looked down at my hands and body. The tattoo was still there, and my body hadn’t changed. I stepped to the mirror in the entryway. My features looked the same.
“You won’t see the new face,” Gideon said.
“Because you’re immune to illusion magic, my spell can’t get to your soul to fool your brain,” Audrey elaborated.
I turned to Gideon. “Do you see my new appearance?”
“Yes, I see it, and you could too if you switch off the protection you’ve built around your soul.”
“How?”
“You break your wall the same way you built it,” Audrey answered.
“Break my wall? It was hard as hell to build it, so I think I’ll pass,” I told her.
“It won’t be difficult like the first time you did it,” Audrey said. “You have already learned how to put a wall around your soul. This time, it’ll be different.”
I hesitated, but after a moment, I closed my eyes, breathing slowly, concentrating. I imagined my protection around my soul breaking down. Brick after brick fell, and when I opened my eyes, they widened. A girl with curly red hair, green eyes, and freckles stared back at me in the mirror. I reached up and touched my new face, examining it.
“Wow, it’s amazing,” I murmured.
Audrey grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Yeah, I don’t look like me. It’s so weird,” I said, then gasped. “Wait. My abductor. He probably has a wall around his soul as well. He’ll see my real appearance.”
“Only if he stands close to you. This spell is very strong and can fool anyone—and I mean anyone—who is looking at you from afar, or on a TV screen,” Audrey said.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yes, don’t worry,” she replied, and I calmed down.
“Okay, now, bring back the wall,” Gideon told me.
I concentrated again, and the protection around my soul was back a few seconds later.
I smiled at Audrey. “You were right. It was easy.” Then I asked, “How long does the spell last?”
“Two days, give or take. It depends on many factors, like stress, illness, or lack of sleep. All of these will weaken the power of the spell and shorten its effect,” she warned.
“Okay, duly noted,” I said, and Gideon moved to the front door.
After we thanked her and left the apartment, he told me, “Thomas’s private jet is waiting for us at the airport.”
My jaw dropped. “We’re flying to New York on a private jet?”
He checked his watch. “In an hour.”
I whistled low. �
��Impressive. Apparently being a hit man pays off.”
He twisted his lips into a lopsided grin. “Considering a career change?”
“If it means I’ll own a freakin’ private jet, hell yeah,” I said as we reached his bike.
He laughed. But before he climbed onto the motorcycle, his expression became serious. “Sydney, remember: when we get to your parents’ house, don’t say anything that would raise suspicions. They cannot know it’s you.”
“I know.” I nodded, and sadness suddenly clouded my joy.
I wished I had more than just a short moment with my parents. I wanted this nightmare to be over. I wanted to find Zoey and get my life back. Despite the sudden gloominess, I chose to keep the smile on my face. Seeing my parents, even for a short time, was better than nothing.
Chapter 11
We didn’t use the main airport terminal. Instead, we headed for the OFB. According to Gideon, it stood for a fixed-base operator. Which meant we skipped the security lines and walked right onto the plane. Flying on a private jet was freaking awesome. We weren’t packed in like sardines. I had plenty of legroom, and no one was snoring in the seat next to me. Thank you, Thomas!
Fifteen minutes after landing, we were in a cab on our way to my home, thoughts racing through my head. Would I be able to fool my parents into thinking I was somebody else? Would I control my emotions near them?
“You remember our cover story, right?” Gideon’s voice jerked me out of my reflections as we arrived.
“Yes, I’ll introduce myself as Zoey’s classmate, and you as my friend,” I said as the cab driver pulled up two houses down from mine. Gideon instructed him to keep the meter running. I climbed out of the car, glanced around, and heaved a big breath. I grew up in this neighborhood. Here my dad taught me how to ride a bicycle, my mom taught me how to drive, Zoey and I played with our friends in the backyard, and Jared broke my heart. Memories, so many of them, surfaced.
“Sydney? You with me?” Gideon asked.
“Yeah, sorry.” I shook my head to clear it as Gideon and I walked toward my house, scanning the area. Was my abductor watching it? I wondered when a woman passed by us, hugging a stack of flyers close to her chest. I caught a glimpse of her profile, and my heart skipped a beat.
