Angeles Vampire

by Michael Pierce

  However, as adamant as she was at being unable to work with Mallory, she didn’t sound like she was giving up, which gave me hope. Maybe she wouldn’t need convincing after all.

  A short while later, Fiona was asleep in the passenger seat, her head bobbing to one side when we hit bumps in the road. I reached for the controls to recline her chair, but fell a few inches short. Even though she didn’t look overly comfortable, she looked peaceful for the first time.

  I didn’t wake her until we were parked in her apartment complex. Though I tried my best not to startle her, she jerked violently in her seat, arms flying up in front of her face like she was anticipating an attack.

  “Hey. It’s only me,” I said, keeping my distance.

  It still took her a moment to remember where she was and that she was safe in my company. While she fought to return to calmness, I exited the vehicle, walked around to her door, and opened it.

  “I’ll get your stuff back,” I promised.

  “Okay.”

  I offered my hand to help her step down from the passenger seat. She’d discarded the heels sometime after we’d gotten on the highway, having thrown them in the back seat. She was now barefoot. Fiona took my hand and dropped down onto the concrete.

  As soon as our hands parted, she snaked her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. I was initially taken aback, but then wrapped my arms around her small body. Her hair smelled like an exotic mixture of fruit from whatever shampoo she used. Every bit of her was intoxicating and I could feel my fangs yearning to be set free. I pushed at them with my tongue to keep them at bay.

  On letting go, she gazed up into my eyes and said, “Thank you.” Our connection lingered for multiple heavy heartbeats, then she broke away and hurried across the parking lot to her apartment, leaving me breathless, aching, and incredibly thirsty.

  30

  Fiona

  I was home earlier than I would have been if I’d worked a normal closing shift. The closed kitchen blinds glowed, signaling that Mom was home. I didn’t think my luck was good enough to get from the front door to my room unseen, so didn’t even try.

  I unlocked the door and entered the apartment as usual. Mom looked up from one of the couches, reading glasses low on her nose and an e-reader in her lap. One look at me caused her to remove her glasses and stare at me.

  “What are you wearing? And what happened to your shoes?” she asked, trying to mask her concern with the hopes that I had an innocent, logical explanation.

  Of course, I didn’t—and was too emotionally drained to come up with one. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You told me you were working tonight.”

  “I did, but… didn’t. I mean, I got my shift covered so I could go out with the girls. Alexis lent me the clothes. I forgot my shoes in her car.” I closed the front door and strolled into the kitchen. “Can we not do twenty questions right now? I’m really spent.”

  While I rummaged through the pantry cabinet, Mom appeared at the edge of the kitchen. “What happened to your shirt? If you tell me you’re okay, I’ll believe you. But I want you to know I’m here to talk if you need to.”

  I glanced down at the ripped front of the turtleneck, vividly remembering what the damage signified. “I’m fine, Mom,” I said, then snatched the bag of Oreos from the cabinet.

  “You know you shouldn’t be eating those at this hour,” she admonished.

  “I know; I’m gonna blow up like a damn balloon,” I snapped, rolling my eyes as I pushed past her.

  “I’m not calling you fat, kid,” she shot back. “I just want you to have healthy eating habits. I know I didn’t always train you right when you were younger.”

  “A few cookies aren’t going to kill me.”

  “You’re right, a few won’t.”

  “I can’t deal with this right now.” I stormed off to my room and made a point of slamming the door. I dropped onto the bed and watched the door to see if Mom was going to come in after me, unwilling to let me off the hook so easily. After a few minutes of waiting, I decided she’d let me have my space and I finally got comfortable by peeling off the wretched clothes I’d been given and slipping into my pajamas.

  Looking down at my hand, I wanted to scrub off the X—the other horrid reminder of where I’d been that evening, but I didn’t want to leave the illusory safety of my room.

  So instead, I opened the bag of Oreos and split the first cookie. I laid the naked half beside me on the comforter and popped the filling half into my mouth. The familiar sweetness flirted with my taste buds and helped me feel truly at home. As quickly as the first cookie disappeared, another had taken its place, then another.

  After a few more Oreos, I started to feel sick, also a familiar feeling. I curled up on the bed and pulled the open bag closer. Each time another vision of the vampires in The Cellar entered my mind, I took another bite. I could still feel their hands on my skin as they secured me to the X-shaped posts. I could still hear the moans of pleasure coming from the nearby couches and podiums, making me even more nauseous. My heart was racing from the vivid memories, as well as the sugar rush.

  Then it wasn’t just about the vampires and their horrific nature, but about the people I was supposed to be able to trust in this new Society I’d become entangled in. Of course, I knew better than to trust Mallory—I’d known her true nature for years as we’d grown up together. Matthew had said this process was supposed to be giving us a new bond, one that rose above petty likes and dislikes, but I knew that would never be the case between Mallory and me; here, we shared no salvation. However, now I was afraid the rift between us could prevent me becoming a full-fledged True North member, ultimately causing me to lose any and all access to my father. I’d had no real luck searching for him on my own. I’d feared the Society might be my only chance—and that Mallory was doing everything in her power to keep me out.

  “I wish I could still have some,” Becca said, her voice so envious of the stack of half Oreos I’d constructed on my comforter. “They look so good.”

  “I know; it’s probably mean of me to still be saving your half,” I said. “But I can’t help it. I can’t bring myself to eat them. God, I think I’m gonna throw up.”

  “Why are you still eating?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It seems every part of my life is out of control. I can’t even control my Oreo consumption.”

  “Why are you so upset?”

  “I told you about that bi—umm, awful girl, Mallory. Well, she’s upped her awfulness to a whole new level. I don’t think I can continue to deal with her.”

  “Then don’t. Get away from her.”

  “I can’t, Becks,” I said. “If I quit the group I told you about, then I won’t be able to find out about Dad.”

  “What’s more important?”

  “Stop getting all smart on me,” I laughed. “I can’t control my search for him any more than I can control anything else. He owes us an explanation. And no one else is gonna get that out of him.” I went to pull apart another Oreo, then stopped and willed myself to place it back in the bag.

  “See? You can do it when you want to.”

  “My desire to not want to clean up vomit finally surpassed my desire to make myself sick. I wouldn’t really call that self-control. Remember when things were simple? When there were just people and ghosts?”

  “Have you met other ghosts?” Becca asked.

  “No; Becks. Just you,” I said. “Now, there are vampires and angels going about their lives in the world like it’s perfectly normal.”

  “Maybe it is,” she said.

  “It’s insane,” I argued. I removed my pillow from under my head and gave it a squeeze. “I wish you were here so I could hug you.” The threat of tears stung my eyes. “I really do.”

  “But I am here,” Becca said.

  “I know. I just need someone to hold me and tell me everything’s going to be all right.”

  “Everything’s
gonna be all right,” Becca whispered.

  “I love you, Becks.”

  “Love you too, Fee.”

  I closed my eyes, imaging Becca right beside me. I squeezed her tight. Then that image turned into Matthew, and I continued to squeeze, my arms tight around his rock-solid body. Despite how those creatures terrified me, he somehow made me feel safe in this crazy new world—a world I barely recognized anymore.

  31

  Matthew

  I returned to the headquarters on a mission. From tracking Aaron’s SUV, I knew he’d returned it and had a good feeling he was still in the building. I stormed through the hallways to the office he shared with three other Society members, all a similarly new ranking.

  I barged into the office without the slightest care about who else I’d find. Inside, Aaron was laughing with Zelda’s coach, his friend, Charles Anderson. Their laughter quickly died down at the sight of me in the doorway.

  “Too good to knock?” Aaron asked, his face growing cold as his smile faded.

  “Where’s her stuff?” I demanded.

  “I should probably get going,” Anderson said, rising from his chair.

  “No need; this will only take a moment,” Aaron said, opening the bottom drawer of his desk and removing a crumpled plastic bag. He tossed the bag to me and kicked the drawer shut. “There you go. Her clothes are even neatly folded. You’re welcome.”

  I snatched the bag out of the air with one hand, then opened it to examine the contents. The clothes and purse were obvious, but I had to dig through the bag to find the necklace, which had fallen into the toe of one shoe. The clasp on the chain was broken, which made me even more furious.

  Satisfied everything was accounted for, I set the bag on the closest desk and approached Aaron. I grabbed his neck with one hand and lifted him straight into the air. I could crush his windpipe with little effort, so I slightly squeezed to just remind him of that simple fact.

  Aaron clawed at my hands, drawing blood, but the pain meant nothing to me.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?!” I roared, then dropped him back into his chair, which tipped over, spilling him to the carpeted floor.

  Anderson quickly slipped by, but I let him go, not giving a damn who he told. I’d make sure Aaron answered for what he’d done, no matter what.

  Aaron coughed and spluttered there on the floor, fighting to regain control of his breathing. Then he crawled to his desk and yanked open the bottom drawer, ripping it off its hinges. Inside, he grabbed a filled shoulder holster and fumbled to free the handgun. When he did, I kicked it right out of his hand. The Society-issued weapon ricocheted off the far wall.

  “Your tools aren’t going to save you now,” I said, squatting to his level.

  “You never did have a sense of humor,” Aaron said, between coughing fits. “It was just a joke. She was never in any real danger; she was in good hands.”

  “You have no idea what you did,” I growled. “You practically signed her death warrant.”

  “I know she’s your new pet project, but she shouldn’t be here. We don’t owe her entry—ask anyone. We only had this final candidate class for my sister. If it wasn’t for her, there’d be no candidate class.”

  “No! You and your father can pretend you’re running things all you want, but the reality is, you’re not. Fiona was always going to be a candidate, and she’ll be initiated, just like your sister.”

  “But my sister makes it onto the station; Fiona doesn’t. It’s in the old logs. What does that tell you?”

  “It tells me you’re trying to tamper with something far greater than you and it’s going to be your downfall.” I grabbed him by the face, ready to snap his jaw like kindling. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will—”

  “Matthew, let him go!” someone yelled from behind me.

  I shoved Aaron’s head to the floor and stood up. When I turned to see who was challenging me, I was surprised to find Vladimir pointing a handgun at me. I was sure he had wood-encased hollow-point bullets—sleeper bullets—sure to drop me if he was lucky enough to hit anything vital. Behind him stood Douglas Fiennes and Ashley Degray. Aaron’s father looked like he was about to have an aneurism.

  “I didn’t do anything he didn’t deserve,” I said.

  “This is just another example of why you should be stripped of your tattoo and terminated!” Douglas shouted. “You can’t be trusted!”

  “Your kids abandoned my candidate at Fangloria!” I shot back. “You want to talk about unacceptable?”

  “Matthew, I need to know you’re in control,” Vladimir said, his gun still trained on me.

  “I’m good,” I said, throwing up my hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “If you ever touch either of my children again, I will put a sleeper in your heart myself,” Douglas warned.

  “And if they screw with my candidate again, I’ll come straight for you,” I growled, flashing my fangs.

  “You do that and I’ll put you down like the rabid dog you are.”

  “Shut up, Douglas,” Ashley said. “We’re all on the same side.”

  “No, Ashley. I’m tired of you playing the mediator. This animal needs to be controlled.”

  I snatched the plastic bag from the desk and marched toward the guarded doorway, ready to barrel through the three of them if need be. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to return the personal items your kids stole from my candidate.”

  They all saw how serious I was and stepped aside, even though I knew a part of Douglas wanted to antagonize me further to coax me to attack him. However, he simply glared at me, and I snarled back like the animal he wanted me to be.

  Halfway down an adjacent hallway, I heard my name being called by an old friend as she tried to catch up to me. Now in her seventies, she didn’t get around as freely as she used to, but she was still in relatively good health.

  “Matthew, wait up,” Ashley called.

  “I don’t need to be chastised right now,” I said, stopping, but refusing to turn and face her.

  “Then stop playing right into his hands.” She walked around to face me since I wouldn’t turn. “I try to help you wherever I can, but you’re making it more and more difficult to defend you. I know you mean well, but outbursts need to be controlled when it comes to our own members—

  members of the Assembly. Go take your aggression out elsewhere.”

  “I know all this,” I said.

  “Perhaps you should stop depriving yourself of human blood; I think it’s clouding your judgement,” Ashley said. When I did nothing more than shrug, she continued. “I know you feel strongly about Fiona getting in. We promised Roland we’d extend her an invitation years ago when she came of age, but she’s not worth getting yourself into more trouble for.... She’s just another girl. Remember, you’re more important than she is.”

  “She’s important too,” I said, sounding defeated.

  “If you say so,” she said, nonchalantly. “What aren’t you telling me? What is it about this girl, that makes it so personal?”

  “I’d rather not discuss this. You’ll just have to trust me one more time.”

  “We’ve come this far.” Ashley folded her arms across her chest. “So, what are we going to do? You know Douglas will report this incident to the Assembly.”

  “And I’ll be more than happy to defend myself in the conference room.”

  When she eyed me suspiciously, I added, “Through discussion.”

  “They’re not going to agree to admit quarreling candidates—even with them being legacies.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “You’re not going to like it, and Douglas will have an absolute fit. They need to be forced to rely on each other—deny them of any other options.”

  “You’re right; I don’t like the sound of this,” I said, but heard her out with an open mind.

  32

  Fiona

  Several days later, I was back in the training gymnasium, fenci
ng with Mallory. I’d hoped with the recent history between us, that they’d at least have paired us up differently. But no such luck. We seemed to be stuck together.

  Aaron and Matthew watched our sparring from opposite sides of the mat. Tensions appeared to be high with them too.

  Again, Mallory was able to best me every time, oftentimes in the span of a few seconds. But occasionally, I was able to fend her off for a minute or more before her superior skill forced me into submission.

  “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Mallory said as she jabbed the button tip of the sabre into my chest. “Dead.”

  “Your determination to get me to quit is the biggest thing keeping me going,” I retorted, getting back to my feet.

  Before we started again, the trainer, Vladimir, stopped and adjusted my stance. “Don’t hold your wrist so rigid. Flowing movements, like a dance.” He stepped back and said, “Begin.”

  Vladimir watched as I got my ass handed to me again.

  “Yes; just keep doing that,” Mallory said. I could sense the smile behind her mask. “Can’t I practice with someone who actually knows what she’s doing?”

  Vladimir requested my sabre and asked me to step aside, so I joined Matthew at the edge of the mat and removed my mask.

  “I don’t think you understand how embarrassing this is,” I said as Mallory and Vladimir began to spar, looking like seasoned champions.

  “Right now, you’re simply proving your desire and commitment to being here,” Matthew said. “The skill will come in time.”

  “I don’t care about that, but she’s actively trying to make me look like a fool. It’s what she’s always done.”

  “You don’t look like a fool. You look inexperienced, which you are. Her trying to shine a spotlight on your flaws only makes her look foolish.” Matthew put an arm around me and pulled me into him. “Don’t let her win.”