Vampire Innocent | Book 12 | Ancient Vampire Death Cults & Other Annoyances

by Cox, Matthew S.

  Hmm. Okay, maybe Shadows are strong enough flyers to do it.

  Eventually, Aurélie’s building comes into view ahead. The promise of the chance to drop Brady somewhere safe gives me the energy to power ahead and stop bobbing up and down like a moth on LSD. I aim for the patio. For a high-rise, she’s got a nicely sized porch area recessed into one wall. It’s a pleasant spot for a cocktail party—I’d say barbecue but she’s not the sort of person to host such things—also great for an emergency crash landing. My attempt to avoid shredding my new sweater results in a rather ungraceful belly flop by the door. Brady’s kind enough to knock for me, using his head.

  He’s only burdensomely heavy to my flight ability. On the ground, I’m strong enough to maneuver him around like a six-foot pillow. Aurélie, her expression curious, comes gliding across the large living room toward the door. Her voluminous ball gown conceals the motion of her legs, making her look like a life-sized chess piece sliding at the push of an invisible hand.

  She opens the door.

  I carry Brady inside and lay him on the floor. Best to ask permission first before depositing strange, grungy vampires on expensive furniture.

  Aurélie emits a soft giggle. “Oh, cheri, you do not need to bring snacks when you come to visit.”

  Wow, he must be seriously new if she can’t tell he’s a vampire. Say what? I raise an eyebrow at her. “He’s not a snack. He’s one of the new vampires from the idiot running around.”

  “This boy is no vampire.” Aurélie puts a hand to my forehead as if checking for a fever.

  “Umm.” I shift my gaze to Brady, then crouch, pressing the back of my hand to his neck. Oh, wow. He’s warm—sorta—and has a pulse. Sniff. “Holy crap. He smells like a mortal.”

  “Mortals typically do smell like mortals.” Aurélie titters again. “Are you feeling all right, child?’

  “Putain de merde,” I mutter—sending her into full on laughter. I think the phrase is basically the same as WTF. She finds it cute when I try to use French, even if it is only a few phrases. “This guy was a vampire like twenty minutes ago.”

  “Are you sure?” She lowers a hand from her mouth, humor giving way to curiosity and a piercing stare, surely looking into my memory.

  “A baby vampire, yeah, but still a vampire. He’s been staying with a couple Lost Ones I sorta know for the past few days.” I explain when I first spotted him out of his mind from hunger, chasing a poor security guard across a cargo lot like a starving feral barn cat pursuing the first mouse he’s seen in a week.

  Aurélie crouches—a true feat of agility in that gown—and lifts Brady’s face by a palm under one cheek. “This boy was so weak and so new when his sire suffered permanent destruction, the Transference broke.” She pushes his lip up as if examining the teeth of a horse. “Pas de crocs.”

  “Umm.”

  “No fangs.” She lowers his head to rest on the carpet, then stands. “There exists a small window of opportunity wherein a newly made vampire may be deprived of the gift if the sire is destroyed.”

  I blink. “Whoa. Professor Heath said something about the bones not fully changing. This other vamp blew up at a gas station. Fell apart into ash and bones.” I describe how the bones appeared partially white and partially yellowed and ancient.

  “Perhaps. I am no doctor. It may be related. Years ago, some mortals considered it a chance to ‘save someone from the curse.’” She mutes a giggle. “Curse, indeed.”

  “Yeah, well.” I shrug. “People are usually afraid of what they don’t understand. Like this guy. He kept moping about missing the sun. Guess it’s not a problem for him anymore.”

  “Oui.”

  “Hmm. Oh, wow. Do you think all the vampires Connor made went back to being mortal?”

  Aurélie snaps her fan open and waves it at herself. “It is difficult to say without more information. Those who are too unstable likely fell to pieces from the spiritual shockwave. It is as likely they exist no more as became mortal.”

  Maybe all the screaming we heard came from non-viable vampires writhing in agony before disintegrating. Brady reverted to mortal and kissed the floor so fast he had no time to do much more than scream. He’s also the first one Connor turned. Best friends indeed. Hell, I think vampire life is amazing and you don’t see me rushing to bite Ashley and Michelle. Either one of them would be super pissed at me if I did it to them out of the blue without even asking first. Can’t fault Brady being angry with Connor, and more than a little hurt.

  Okay, now I feel like Sophia. A big chicken. We didn’t need to panic run out of the hospital.

  “Do not feel sorrow, cheri.” Aurélie puts an arm around me. “The Transference only breaks if the progeny loses their mortality to exsanguination. In your case, you would ’ave been alive again for only a few seconds before succumbing to your wound.”

  “Oh, yeah, well.” I smile at her. “Not going there. I wasn’t even thinking about being jealous or anything. I’m happy as is. Besides, the idea of getting my mortality back would require killing Dalton, which isn’t cool. Kinda think I’m past my sell-by date, anyway.”

  Aurélie laughs. “Oui, it ’as to ’appen before a month passes… give or take a week or two depending on bloodline. Another reason you should not feel sorrow. It is impossible for you to become mortal again.”

  “Honestly. I’m cool. Happy as is.” I stretch my arms, working out a few sore spots from flying Brady around. “So, what do we do with him?”

  “’E should go to the ’ospital. Preferably one which is not abandoned. The boy is low on blood.” Aurélie glances off across the room, staring at the wall.

  She’s summoning one of her employees. Neat trick using telepathy on someone not in line of sight. No idea if it’s a ‘standard’ vampire ability I’ll get with age or if it’s an Old Guard thing, but whatever. Any new abilities I develop are simply icing on an already awesome cake. Won’t bother me either way. Turning into a raven would be pretty damn cool, but it’s not something I need. Ladonna can’t fly otherwise. As cool as shapeshifting into a bird is, having to get naked every time I wanted to fly would totally stink. Probably not as big a deal living out in the wilderness like pagans, but in a city? Yeah, no thanks.

  A large, bodyguard type guy in a black suit walks in. He nods respectfully at Aurélie before collecting Brady from the floor and holding him upright so she can stare into his eyes. Yeah, Brady is not going to remember anything about vampires. Expected that. Better for everyone involved. Maybe she’ll let him recall some manner of near-death experience so he still wants to mend bridges with his parents. Got a feeling he’s likely to develop an aversion to all things morbid or creepy.

  Poor guy wanted to see the sun again real bad. Seems he got his wish after all. Maybe Aurélie will let him quasi-remember the vampire stuff but turn it into a nightmare… and do the whole ‘the names and faces of the Innocent have been changed’ deal so he doesn’t remember me being a vampire. Doesn’t matter if he thinks he dreamed Connor becoming an undead. The guy is genuinely gone for good. As far as the real world is concerned, he’s a missing person who will never be found. Easy for Brady to think his mind reacted to the trauma of his best friend disappearing by having a nightmare about vampires. I mean, these guys pretended to be vampires all four years of high school.

  Aurélie gives me side eye and a sly smile. Yeah, she’s totally doing that.

  Weird. I wonder if his regret for being turned had anything to do with him becoming mortal again? Like, if he loved being a vampire, would the gift have been stolen from him upon Connor’s death? Bleh. I don’t really want to waste time thinking about pointless what-ifs.

  I’m done with philosophy class.

  35

  Dust to… Sparkles?

  The flight home is awesome.

  Primarily because I’m not carrying a dude. Another reason is, I don’t see a giant raven following me. She might be a psycho bitch trying to destroy society, but Ladonna was kinda cool. Like, a villai
n from a book or movie you can’t help but respect. It wouldn’t really have bothered me if Aziz squished her, but I’m also not upset she escaped. She’s evil in a way other vampires aren’t, so it probably should bother me she’s still out there. We, at least, have human souls. Oblivare are made from purple glowing goop in a jar. A spectral hijacker stealing a corpse. Wonder what the woman whose body she stole had been like?

  It’s maybe an hour and a half before sunrise at this point. Time for a nice, relaxing bath.

  A debate about which scent of bath bomb to use consumes the last few minutes of the flight home. I land on the back deck, slip inside to the kitchen, and pause at the smell of burnt hair. What the heck? It’s strongest near the microwave. Probably happened a couple days ago… but my nose is extremely sensitive while online. Worried, I open the door. Thankfully, the microwave does not contain the charred corpse of a small furry animal. Strange something hairy burned in the micro and no one said anything. I’m about to dismiss it as a weird Blix-ism when I notice the faint outline of bare feet burned into the floor. Based on size, they can only be Dad’s. Their position indicates the microwave oven probably expressed its discontent about something in an electrical manner. Eep!

  I hurry upstairs to the parents’ room. The same smell of burning hair is present. It’s fairly weak, again suggesting it’s more in the pillow than my father’s hair. The ’rents are asleep and don’t look hurt. Dad’s hair’s standing on end, doing an impression of a koosh, the world’s absolute worst case of static electricity. I creep over to take a closer look. Don’t see a burn. No blood. No damage. An ozone smell hangs in the air near his head. Hmm. Safe to say something weird happened. If it occurred days ago and his hair is still standing up, it sounds like Sophia lost control of a spell again.

  Oh well. They don’t appear upset, so it must not have been bad. I head out to the hall and poke my head into Sam’s room to check on him. He’s in bed, safe and sound. Blix is sprawled out on the bed next to him, asleep as well. Good. Just to be thorough, I check on the girls. Sierra and Sophia are not exactly where they’re supposed to be. Sierra’s in Sophia’s bed with her. Based on the way Soph is clinging to her, she probably had a nightmare.

  Wow. Sierra willingly sharing the bed? Something happened. I will need to talk to them tomorrow.

  Klepto perks up to look at me. I wave at her.

  “Mew,” says the kitten in her best try at whispering.

  The noise is so tiny and cute I almost fail to resist the urge to go over and squeeze her.

  Satisfied the kids are okay, I head downstairs to stash the katana in my closet and get undressed. A big towel wrap is enough for a stealthy trip back upstairs to the bathroom. Oh, and I grab a blueberry dream bath bomb. Change of pace.

  Once in the bathroom, I close and lock the door, then pull the shower curtain aside.

  The tub glimmers and sparkles from a coating of… red glitter? What the hell? Okay, either the world’s most fabulous vampire spontaneously self-destructed in our bathtub, or Sophia’s up to something. I swipe a finger at the stuff. Feels gritty rubbed between my fingertips. Up close, it looks like red salt. Tiny crystals, like rubies.

  I recall overhearing two cops talking about a $250,000 ruby stolen from somewhere in the area.

  Oh em gee.

  Seriously?

  Nah. Can’t be.

  Swipe. Yeah. Definitely ruby dust all over the inside of our bathtub. What the hell happened here? This certainly explains what’s been bothering Sophia lately. It’s mildly worrisome she’s been acting only as guilty as she’d have been if she forgot to do some minor chore. Deliberate theft? The girl would never… she’d freak out if she accidentally stole a candy bar. How on Earth did she mentally handle theft this major. Maybe the kitten thought it pretty and she merely destroyed the evidence? No… she’d have asked Klepto to put it back. Gonna go out on a limb here and make a wild assumption my kid sister doesn’t have a giant gem smashing machine under her bed. This reeks of magic. It’s almost impossible for me to believe, but it sure looks like Sophia intentionally had some role in the theft of a serious gemstone.

  Suppose I could feel guilty for corrupting my family. I could ignore this. Or… find it hilarious a kitten stole a giant ruby from a guy with more money than some entire countries. Hmm. How about a little of everything?

  Screw it.

  I rinse the ruby residue down the drain and run myself a bath.

  36

  Sierra’s Gone Extra

  Once I’m out of bed the next afternoon, I throw on a shirt and shorts, then head upstairs.

  As the guy on that old-ass television show says, Sophia, you got some ’splainin’ ta do. I find the girls, plus Nicole, Megan, and Priya, hanging out in the living room. Mom used to often complain at the Littles for not being more like me. Meaning, at their age, Ashley and I tended to hang out at her house about sixty to seventy percent of the time, or be quiet in my room. Sophia and Sam adore inviting their friends here. Ever since I ‘died,’ Mom’s never once complained about the kids always being here.

  No surprise they’re indoors today. It’s so damn rainy and gloomy outside, I’m nearly online at three in the afternoon standing in the living room. Not quite online. It’s like a switch one millimeter from contact where a spark occasionally jumps across.

  “Soph? Sierra? Can I borrow you two for a minute?” I keep going past the living room to the dining room. It’s darker in there already. Once I close the curtains, I’m online as long as I stay tucked back at the end behind the table, away from the alcove leading to the kitchen or living room.

  The girls trail in. Sierra’s still smiling. Sophia stares at the floor, trudging like a convict making her way to the gallows.

  “Relax, Soph,” I say. “No one’s in trouble.”

  It occurs to me Sierra is giving off noticeable energy. The same way I can sense a vampire or felt an unusual presence around that werewolf I met in London, Ron Haddon, something else is all over her. I lean close to sniff at her. Still mortal. She has an obvious pulse in the side of her neck.

  “If you bite me, I am gonna kick your ass.” Sierra grins.

  Normally, two plus two equals four, but this is my family. Weird ruby residue in the bathtub plus crazy microwave activity plus Sierra radiating energy should point to the logical conclusion something magic happened. I don’t trust anything in my life to be so straightforward.

  “Why is Sierra radioactive?” I ask.

  “Umm, what?” She shoots a look at Sophia. “You didn’t say anything about radioactivity.”

  Sophia gasps.

  “Not literal radioactivity,” I say, lowering my voice. “She feels paranormal. Not a vampire, not a werewolf… something weird.”

  “She’s always been weird.” Sophia puts on a totally unconvincing smile. “She reached critical mass of weird so now you can smell it.”

  In my family, only one person has the capability of lying with a straight face: Mom. No, this isn’t a lawyer joke. Also no, my mother doesn’t lie for her job. She tells selective truths. Sierra sorta inherited Mom’s ability to play truth games. She can lie about as well as any average person. My Dad’s horrible at deceit. He struggles to even surprise us with gifts, gets this ‘aww shucks’ face every time he’s not being truthful. He also loves seeing us happy and can’t bear the wait of keeping a surprise hidden for more than a day, so usually reveals it early. Sophia and I can’t lie to save our lives. My brother could lie. He’s so deadpan all the time it would be easy for him. The boy simply doesn’t bother. Somewhere in his brain, he calculates the net effort required to create and maintain a lie exceeds the cost of being immediately truthful. In fact, the only untruths I’ve ever seen from him are due to needing to keep vampires and demons secret.

  Which goes back to the cost/reward comparison.

  Now what Sophia did here isn’t even her attempt to sincerely lie. The smile, the misdirection to Sierra’s weirdness—which is a well-documented phenomenon—comes o
ff entirely as a joke hoping to lessen the impact of whatever badness she expects to follow. It’s the cute defense. It’s really hard to be angry at her sometimes. And I’m far from angry at her. Merely confused.

  Sierra does not call her a butthead. Red flag.

  “You two conspired to do something together.”

  “Yeah.” Sierra doesn’t look down. White flag. Uh oh. Serious. “She saved my life.”

  Blink.

  Sophia glances at the living room where the friends wait. “Sare, just look in my head. It’s faster and no one can overhear.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s light out, duh,” whispers Sierra.

  “Her eyes went red for a sec. It’s dark enough in here.” Sophia looks up, allowing me easy eye contact.

  And wow. She enchanted Sierra to not need vampire blood. Dead at fifteen because future me said no more blood. Well, undead at fifteen. Sophia did send the cat to get a ruby, but at least she made sure to take it from someone who wouldn’t even notice the loss of the money. She feels guilty about stealing but no more so than she’d be upset by taking a handful of M&Ms from Sierra without asking. Honestly, the comparison’s about the same. Whoever owned the ruby could replace it as easily as most people could obtain a pack of M&Ms. She didn’t personally benefit from the theft beyond getting to keep her sister alive and safe.

  And holy crap! She got a portal to work. Mom’s going to freak. Good thing Sophia’s usually a total angel. How does a parent ground a kid by taking their car keys away when they can go anywhere on Earth via their closet? Another good thing: Sophia’s not likely to go randomly roaming strange places alone. She scares easy and she’s the sort of person who could spend all day every day at home and not mind. If wanderlust could exist as a negative value, she has it. Also, the bed sharing last night makes sense. Soph’s been having nightmares every night since they went to the freaky forest and terrifying house. Oh, wow… another Shadow. But yeah, ugh. The blood driving her crazy.