Angeles Vampire

by Michael Pierce

“I’m taking that break that you so considerately said I needed,” I said, folding my arms and taking a moment to calm my breathing.

  Looking around the room, I saw it had significantly cleared out in the past twenty minutes or so, the noise echoing off the high ceiling greatly reduced. Mallory walked off the mat to stand by her coach, but I remained where I was to watch Zelda and Barry continuing to spar. Barry seemed to be winning a majority of the time, but the two were far more evenly matched than Mallory and I were. And with them being evenly matched, it simply meant everyone in the room could kick my ass.

  “You did fine for your first session,” Matthew said, coming up to stand beside me.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said in a sulking tone.

  “Do what? I didn’t say you did well.” He gave a half-smile that seemed to suggest he wasn’t completely disappointed by my amateur performance.

  “Did you know she’s been training?”

  Matthew nodded. “But I didn’t know how proficient she was.” He paused while we watched the other candidates compete, then said, “You should look at this as a good thing. She challenges you, which will only make you better, stronger, and faster.”

  “Yeah; she challenges me every day not to strangle her.”

  “At this point, I don’t think you could.” He sounded serious.

  I gave him an exaggerated glare of offense and disgust, even though I knew he was right.

  “Now, in the spirit of challenging you, I must warn you that the next demonstration is going to seem unbelievable and really screw with your mind. But it’s one of the primary reasons you’re here. Keep an open mind.”

  I was about to ask what he was talking about, when Octavius and Vladimir spoke up to get everyone’s attention and announce the next order of business. I suddenly noticed the room had gone deathly quiet, and the other remaining groups of people had stopped what they were doing and were coming over to our little corner of the gymnasium.

  “The True North Society covets a number of secrets only hinted at during your initial ceremonies,” Octavius said, primarily addressing us four. “One of them you’re about to learn right now and it will fundamentally change your perspective on the world. Much of what the Society has to offer is overwhelming and today’s demonstration will be no exception. This is why senior members, trainers, and your coaches will only reveal a piece at a time, so the chance for emotional and mental meltdown are adequately anticipated and reduced. Some things are better shown than described, so watch, listen, and learn. There’ll be time afterwards for comments and questions.”

  By this time, Vladimir had his shirt off and was holding an intimidating six-inch dagger in each hand. They looked sharp and deadly, and he looked no less formidable with his large muscles rippling across his entire upper body.

  Matthew was now stepping away from me and pulling his shirt up over his head. He was leaner, less bulky than Vladimir, but looked just as rock-solid with perfectly smooth milky white skin. The compass on his forearm truly was his only tattoo. The rest of his skin was flawless and unmarked, so perfectly toned and proportioned that he didn’t seem real. I flushed at the thought of his perfection, growing even hotter with the thought of all my scars. Physically he was a better match for Mallory—a thought that made me livid.

  Vladimir passed Matthew one of the daggers and they walked out onto a neighboring mat, further away from the gathered crowd of onlookers. Matthew glanced back at me, giving that sad look I’d now seen from him several times and couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind—then he opened his mouth wide and growled like an animal—a predator—like the king of the beasts. And as he did so, fangs protruded where his canine teeth had previously been, and I finally saw him for who he truly was.

  No…

  Matthew jerked the arm holding the dagger and it elongated like a bladed collapsible baton, transforming into a gleaming sword.

  Vladimir did the same with his dagger, the metal whining from the friction as it unfolded. Just when I was about to look for his fangs, white feathered wings exploded from his back in a radiant burst of energy.

  I was looking upon not one, but two mythical creatures that should not exist outside a movie screen or the pages of a novel. I hadn’t been given any drugs, unless they were pumping them in through the ventilation system. Just like standing on the station in space, looking down at Earth, this seemed to really be happening.

  I glanced over at Mallory and found she hadn’t been any more prepared for this than I’d been. And if I hadn’t been so horrified, I would’ve taken some joy in that.

  The deafening clash of metal brought my attention back to the supernatural beings twenty feet away, engaging each other in an epic battle I could barely comprehend. They moved so fast their bodies began to blur. The power behind their strikes was like cars colliding. Vladimir didn’t have to stay on the ground, intermittently using his wings to soar around Matthew. But Matthew was not at a disadvantage—his leaps could reach Vladimir at any height within the room.

  How is he a vampire…?

  I’d seen him outside, in sunlight. He drank coffee. His skin was warm when I’d run my hand down his arm with the tattoo. He’d been nothing but nice to me—despite the whole kidnapping me thing, and drugging my friends. This couldn’t be the same man.

  I watched horrified—mystified—as they brutally attacked each other, then realized… this was what we were training for… not to fight other people, but to defend ourselves from these otherworldly beings. I was about to use the word creatures, but as horrified as I was, they were so absolutely beautiful.

  Then Matthew drew first blood, his gleaming blade slicing across Vladimir’s right arm. A gruesome crimson arc trailed the tip of the blade, painting the dark mat. The angel took to the air again to get some space, blood pouring down his arm from the deep gash. But the wound didn’t seem to be slowing him. A moment later, he was attacking again, and after a few more strikes, speared Matthew through the left shoulder, the end of the blade protruding from his back, red and dripping.

  I let out an audible gasp, a hand flying up to my mouth. I began to feel dizzy as tiny stars popped in my periphery.

  Vladimir ripped the blade from Matthew’s body, and Matthew then fell to his knees. Matthew’s once beautiful chest was now covered in blood.

  I was burning up and finding it hard to breathe. I couldn’t watch this. Before I dropped to the mat, I turned and raced out of the gymnasium. Someone yelled my name, but if I stopped and allowed the adrenaline to fall, then so would I—like a rock.

  My first victory was making it out into the hallway. I rounded several corners before stopping, finding myself alone in this deceptive building, filled with deceptive people, a part of a deceptive world I didn’t understand anymore. Even though I regularly spoke with my deceased sister, I thought I had this world all figured out—thought I knew what was real and what wasn’t, what was possible and what was impossible.

  I couldn’t catch my breath as I fell against the wall and sank to the floor. Everything hit me all at once. Big uncontrollable sobs overtook me as I hugged my knees, wishing I was back at home, safe in the confines of my room with my sister looking over me. All I had wanted to do was find my father. It was the only reason I had signed up for this crazy adventure. But now… It was no longer a crazy adventure, but a nightmare.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes to bring the world back into focus, to make sure someone wasn’t sneaking up on me from either end of the hallway. Then my paranoia brought my attention upward like some creature could be stalking me from the ceiling. I had no idea what was impossible now.

  At that moment, I was still alone in the hallway. Across from me was a closed door. I thought I could read the nameplate on it, but my lingering tears still blurred the letters from that distance. Wiping my eyes again, I pushed up to my feet and took the few steps to the door, my eyes glued to the nameplate. As I drew closer, it all came into focus—everything—confirming my original suspic
ions.

  Roland Damascus.

  My father.

  21

  Fiona

  I think my body shook more from seeing my father’s name on the door before me, than from the revelation of the mythical beings in the gymnasium. My tears dried up immediately from the combination of curiosity, longing, and rage. They couldn’t deny me some answers now. My search had led me here, and this was the door standing between me and my lifelong questions.

  “Fiona,” a voice called from down the hallway.

  I turned to see Matthew standing at the far intersection, still shirtless—a navy blue towel in his hand, wiping residual blood from his upper body, turning the towel nearly purple. It was obvious now that he didn’t have a scratch on him; whatever wounds had been inflicted during the fight were completely healed. His beautiful skin was flawless once again.

  When he saw the troubled look on my face and realized the location of where I was standing, he didn’t bother saying anything else, but raced to my side.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, so close I could feel his breath on my face. He smelled as sweet as ever, no hint of sweat even after all the exertion put forth in the demonstration. Then again, perhaps he didn’t have to exert himself at all. “I know that was a lot to take in.”

  I backed up a step, still envisioning the vicious fangs protruding from his gums and the demonic look in his eyes when he attacked. I didn’t know what to make of him now… now that I knew what he was truly capable of.

  “I know you’re afraid,” he said softy, his words as soothing as a lullaby. “Rightly so. You have a lot to be afraid of in this world. But we will give you the tools to conquer that fear and fight back. I may be a monster, but I’m not evil. I don’t take pleasure in other people’s pain.”

  “What about my father?” I asked, pointing to the nameplate. “Is he one of you—a vampire?”

  “No,” Matthew said. “I am one of the few vampires in the Society. You’ll come to discover that most of the people here despise vampires, and for good reason. I deal with the condemnation in a place where I can attempt to do the most good.”

  I reached for the door handle, finding it locked.

  “Don’t,” he said. “You’ve been shown enough for one night. I want to help you process what you’ve seen. I’ll answer the initial questions you have for me.”

  “You can’t deny me this time,” I insisted, tugging at the doorknob to show my insistence and defiance.

  Matthew placed a hand over mine, causing me to flinch and try to pull away, but he denied me that reprieve. His hand held me in place while I slowly accepted and gave in to his touch.

  “I need to know you’re okay.”

  “I’m so very not okay,” I retorted, almost laughing as I said it while tears once again brimmed in my eyes.

  “Promise me you can handle this and not go running off again,” Matthew clarified.

  I didn’t know how I could honestly promise such a thing, but I did what I needed to do to get through this door. “I promise.”

  “Then stay right here,” Matthew instructed and disappeared in a flash, once again demonstrating the speed shown in the fight with Vladimir. Before I even had a chance to wonder how long he’d be gone, Matthew rounded the corner at lightning speed, now without the towel and holding this T-shirt in one hand and a small card in the other. He took the card and swiped it along the keypad next to the door until the light flashed green.

  Matthew held open the door and flipped on the lights, allowing me to walk into what looked like an office. My legs trembled as I stepped into the room. Since the lights had been off, I didn’t expect to find anyone inside, but the mere thought of entering a room that belonged to my father—that housed some of my father’s things—was still utterly terrifying, so much so that the idea of entering a confined room with a vampire didn’t even cross my mind.

  This room didn’t look much different from the one in which I’d changed into the red dress before the branding ceremony. There was an oversized desk, a wall of bookcases, a leather couch and a few matching chairs, an en-suite bathroom, and framed pictures on the wall spouting clichéd inspirational quotes. The air was musty, like the door hadn’t been opened in quite some time. A light film of dust covered the desk; it also held a stack of papers, but no computer that I could see.

  Stepping up to the desk, I picked up a small framed picture. It showed the smiling face of a little girl with long brunette hair, pinned back from her face with a purple barrette. She looked like me, but it was a picture I’d never seen before. There was no scar on the girl’s face, so if it truly was me, then it was taken before my attack. And if the picture was from before the attack, then Becca would still have been alive.

  “Who is this?” I asked, accusatorily.

  “Her name is Abigail,” Matthew said, now fully clothed, taking the picture frame from me to examine it closer. Instead of handing it back to me, he set the frame back on the table exactly where the dust dictated.

  “Is she his daughter?” I asked, my throat closing up as I struggled to get the words out.

  Matthew nodded, stepping back to give me more room to breathe.

  “Does he even know about me… and Rebecca?” These words were even harder to get out.

  “Yes; he knew about both of you,” he said solemnly, and it didn’t get by me that he used the past tense, but I didn’t press it in that moment.

  I stepped behind the desk and sat down on the oversized leather chair, thrown a little by how much it rocked. The office looked and felt like a tomb, every item in it undisturbed for quite some time. I’d hoped I could get a real sense of him from being in this room, but I didn’t. Settling my attention on the ajar door to the en-suite, I got up and wandered over to the bathroom. It was stocked with the basics, but nothing that made it look lived in. There was nothing specifically of my father’s in there besides the picture.

  “He hasn’t been in here in a long time,” I said.

  “No.”

  “What’s this office for? What does he do for you?”

  “Do you remember your first night with us—on the space station?”

  “Was I really on a space station?”

  “As real as anything else you’ve ever stepped inside.”

  “How was that possible?”

  Matthew shook his head. “I can’t go into the specifics now. But you do remember the station?”

  “Yes,” I said, impatiently.

  “Your father was the chief designer of that,” Matthew said. “He was a key member of our operation.”

  There it was—Matthew using the past tense again, like my father was gone or dead. Every revelation seemed to lead to a million more questions, quickly coaxing my head to explode.

  “So, where is he?” I finally asked—addressing the real elephant in the room. “I want you to take me to him.”

  “Now, that’s something I can’t do at this time.” Matthew looked genuinely apologetic, but he did not waver in his resolve.

  “I don’t accept that,” I said, holding my ground.

  “Well, you must, candidate,” Matthew said, stepping closer to me.

  His imposing presence and the transformation I’d seen before caused me to back away from him again. I was powerless here and we both knew it. As much as I wanted to stand and be strong, I wasn’t. I was only here because I couldn’t handle what had been happening in the gymnasium. I was the weak link in this new group of candidates, having run off like the scared little girl they’d label me as, going forward. Mallory certainly wouldn’t miss an opportunity to give me more hell. I didn’t want to go back and face everyone. I just wanted to go home.

  “You’ve gotten a glimpse into your father’s life, which was more than you were supposed to get until after you were initiated. I know how important this is to you, so I felt it necessary to extend some goodwill. Come back to the gymnasium. Ask some questions or simply listen and be part of the team.”

  “I can’t go back,”
I said.

  “Ever?”

  “I don’t know, but certainly not right now.” I said, sniffling—trying to prevent more tears from falling. “Just give me one more straight answer. Will I get to meet him?”

  Matthew nodded. “You will.” He paused, his eyes trying to read mine. “So, what now?”

  “I want to go home… now.”

  “Can I take you?”

  At first, his question threw me off guard. Then I considered what his question truly meant. Did I still trust him… Well, did I? I needed to ask a bunch of questions around what a real vampire was. Where did real vampires fit in the natural order of things? What were they really capable of? I assumed the demonstration was just the tip of the iceberg. As leery as I was, if Matthew’s intention was to harm me, he would have done so already. He’d had ample opportunities. I certainly didn’t consider myself safe, but safe enough for the moment.

  “You may,” I said, biting my lip, still nervous of the position I was in.

  “Then go change,” he said. “I’ll take you home right away. I’ll give you time to process, but won’t allow you to quit.”

  Since this enigmatic place held the secret of my father, I had to battle my fears and continue my training. I couldn’t allow myself to quit either, no matter how much I wanted to right now. The silver lining was that he seemed to have some degree of confidence in me.

  22

  Matthew

  The drive home with Fiona was silent and tense. She could have asked any number of questions about what she had seen, but she didn’t ask a single one. In fact, she barely looked at me throughout the entire ride. When she exited the Land Rover, she said “goodnight,” but gave me a melancholy look, like we were parting ways for good. Of course, I wouldn’t let that happen, but her internal conflict was clear.

  Even though this new distance between us was a good thing for Fiona, I couldn’t help but feel saddened by it. It was frustrating being so drawn to her. I just had to keep reminding myself that her apprehension toward me—now that she saw me for me—was a good thing.