by Zoe Arden
“Who are we interviewing?” I asked as we left the house.
“Renee Tellinger.”
I paused with my hand on the car door.
“Damon’s mom?” My face flushed.
“That’s right. Remember when I asked you to contact Damon after Mayor Singer’s death so we could to talk to his mother?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why we’re just showing up.”
Damon and I had agreed to get together after his mom left and “talk” about our relationship. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to see him before then. Things had gotten so awkward between us lately. One minute, he was kissing me, the next, he was acting like I was some crazy witch he couldn’t even talk to, let alone trust.
“You don’t have to go,” Colt said when he saw my hesitation. “I just thought you might want to. You can stay here.”
“You mean you’re not gonna lock me up inside the house if I’m not with you?”
Colt laughed. “No. I have enough video bumpers around the house to watch you from any room, at any time.”
“Even the bathroom?” I teased.
“Especially the bathroom.” Colt opened his car door and slid inside.
“Wait. What? That was a joke, right?” I got into the car next to him. “Colt, you were joking, right? You don’t really have spy equipment in our bathroom, do you?”
Colt winked at me and started the car.
I didn’t know whether to be mad at him or laugh out loud. I was pretty sure he was kidding.
Note to self: check the bathroom for spyware before taking a shower.
* * *
2 4
* * *
We pulled up to Damon’s place a few minutes later. I shot Margaret a quick text to let her know Colt was back. We were supposed to meet up again later today, but I told her this might take a while and we changed our plans to tomorrow.
“We should have walked,” I told Colt. “It’s turning into a nice day.”
Colt shrugged. “I’m used to driving. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
We climbed a flight of stairs to Damon’s floor.
“You first,” Colt said.
I bit my bottom lip and knocked. A second later, I was looking at Damon’s sparkling blue eyes. Except they weren’t sparkling.
“Hi,” I said, offering a friendly smile. He didn’t look happy I was there. When he saw Colt, he looked even less thrilled.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I was hoping we could talk to you and your mom a minute,” I said.
“Or just your mom,” Colt interjected.
I shot him a look. Damon was protective of his mother. If he thought we were interrogating her, he’d flip out. Better he thought we were there to interrogate both of them.
“What about?” Damon asked suspiciously.
“The night Mayor Singer was killed.”
“I don’t think we want to talk to you,” Damon said. “Either of you.”
I knew he was purposely trying to be hurtful, and it was working. It felt like he was stabbing me in the heart with a dagger.
“Let them in,” his mom called from the living room.
“Why?”
“Because otherwise they’ll just keep coming back.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed with irritation but he opened the door for us.
Colt and I stepped inside.
“Hello, Mrs. Tellinger,” Colt said, shaking her hand. “I’m not sure we’ve officially met. I’m Detective Colt Hudson, Council on Magic and Human Affairs.”
“I know who you are,” she said, her voice low and threatening.
“I just wanted to ask you a few questions about the murder of Mayor Singer.”
“What can my mom tell you?” Damon demanded. “We weren’t even there when it happened.”
“That’s right,” Colt said. “As I understand it, you both left just before it occurred.”
Damon’s face reddened. “Are you implying we had something to do with it?”
“No, I’m simply stating a fact.”
Damon and his mom fumed as I stood behind Colt, not sure what to do. Maybe I should have stayed home after all.
“Where did you go after you left?” Colt asked.
“Home,” Damon and his mom said at once.
“You didn’t make any stops along the way?”
“No,” Renee said. Colt jotted something down into his notebook as Damon scowled at him.
“Did you see anyone or anything unusual as you were leaving?” Colt asked.
“No,” Damon said.
“I think your mom can speak for herself. Can’t you, Mrs. Tellinger?”
“Of course, I can. We saw nothing out of the ordinary.”
Damon came up beside me, taking hold of my arm and gently ushering me away from Colt and his mom. Colt stiffened but he didn’t make a move toward us. He kept writing in his notebook and watched us out of the corner of his eye.
“What is it that you think you’re doing?” Damon demanded when we were out of earshot. His teeth were tight and even and way too close to my face.
“Anastasia Peacock was murdered yesterday,” I told him.
“I know. It’s all over town.”
“It couldn’t have been Polly who did it. She wasn’t here. She was with Slater.”
“Slater?” Damon asked. “You mean she was at Swords and Bones?”
“I mean she was breaking him out of Swords and Bones.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I guess you haven’t heard everything then, have you?” I asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “Slater escaped.”
Damon’s face went white.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me? I thought family was first on the list to call if something like that happened.” I’d almost forgotten that Slater was Damon’s cousin.
“Oh,” I stammered. “I don’t know. They should have.”
Damon strode quickly back toward his mother. “Mom, don’t say another word.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” She looked at me with hard, dark eyes. “What did you do to my son?” If looks could have killed, I’d have been on the floor with my head caved in.
“Slater escaped,” Damon told her.
Renee’s face turned as pale as her son’s. She turned to Colt.
“Are you here questioning us because you think we helped Slater escape?”
“No,” I interjected, realizing now how it probably looked. “Polly helped him. We know that.”
“Then what are all these questions about?” Damon demanded.
“We’re just trying to figure things out,” I yelled back at him. Damon’s fist was clenched and shaking in the air. My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it.
“Put your hand down,” Colt said to Damon, his face darkening.
“What are you gonna do about it if I don’t? Slap me with another set of antlers? Maybe this time I won’t let Ava talk me out of writing to your boss and filing a complaint.”
Colt shot me a surprised look.
“This is my son’s home. Leave here now or I’ll file a complaint myself. And no one will talk me out of it,” Renee yelled.
I could see the tension in Colt’s shoulders. I put a hand on his arm and steered him toward the door.
“Come on,” I said.
Colt let me lead him outside. Damon slammed the door behind us. I thought it was official now. Damon and I were through. There was no way he was going to want anything more to do with me after this.
We walked silently to Colt’s car. I could tell he was trying to get himself under control.
My phone buzzed again, and I looked at the screen to see I had a new voicemail. Probably Margaret. I dialed in and listened as Melbourne’s voice came through.
“Ava, I’ve just heard about Anastasia Peacock. I need to talk to you. Come to my house as soon as you get this. I’m... I’m ready to answer all your questions.”
<
br /> I hung up and looked at Colt.
“How fast can this car go?”
“As fast as you need it to,” he said.
“I need it at Melbourne’s now.”
“Consider it done.”
* * *
2 5
* * *
I held the phone to my ear as Margaret’s voicemail clicked over. “Margaret, I’m on my way to Melbourne’s. Meet me there as soon as you can.”
“What’s up?” Colt asked as he squealed around a corner.
“Melbourne said he’s ready to talk.”
“Talk? About what?”
I gave Colt a rundown of what Melbourne and I had discussed the other day. I also told him about meeting Vlaski.
“Vlaski Ambrose?” Colt asked, shock registering on his face.
I shrugged. “No idea. I never got his last name. Why?”
“I thought that guy was dead. He’s practically a myth.”
“A myth? What do you mean? Why?”
“Because no one’s ever seen him. At least, no one who’s lived to tell about it.”
I gulped, remembering the way Vlaski’s bony fingers had touched mine when we shook hands.
“You mean he’s... dangerous?”
“Dangerous doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“How do you know so much about him?” I asked.
“COMHA keeps files on all vampires.”
“All vampires? Like all vampires in the world?”
He nodded.
“But there must be, like, thousands. Millions.”
Colt laughed. “Ava, if millions of vampires were running around this planet, there’d be no humans left. The vampires would have tried to take over long ago.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, getting upset. “Melbourne isn’t like that. Melbourne doesn’t even drink human blood.”
“Not now. But I promise you that at one point, he did.”
I remembered what Melbourne had told me about going through an “adjustment period” and shuddered.
“So, how many vampires are there, then?”
Colt shrugged. “A thousand. Maybe less.”
“That’s it?” I was shocked.
“It’s hard to keep track of them because they can go for decades without being seen, then suddenly pop up out of nowhere one day.”
“Do you know how old Melbourne is?” I asked. “He won’t tell anyone.”
“If I remember correctly, Melbourne Hammond is about fifteen hundred years old. Give or take a few years.”
My jaw dropped open. “Fifteen hundred. Wow.”
“It’s possible he’s older and our records only date back that far.”
“Aunt Trixie was planning on making him a birthday cake this year. I don’t think it will hold that many candles.”
Colt chuckled.
“So why are there so few vampires? Has it always been that way?”
“A lot of them panic after they’re... reborn. They end up killing themselves within the first few days.”
“Really?”
“There’s still a lot COMHA doesn’t know about them. They’re very secretive. In fact, Melbourne is one of the most open vampires I’ve ever met. He actually seems happy. Most vampires aren’t. I suppose it’s hard to stay happy when everyone you love dies.”
I’d never thought of it that way. “Pool Melbourne.”
“Anyway,” Colt continued, “there’s a vampire council that set a rule long ago stating that before a vampire can be turned, they have to be given the choice. No more just stealing someone off the street and turning them. For the most part, vampires have complied.”
“I heard that most of them don’t drink human blood anymore.”
“That’s true. Most don’t. Vlaski is an exception.”
What on Earth would Melbourne have been doing with Vlaski if all this were true? They seemed like polar opposites.
We finally made it to Melbourne’s and I got out of the car, running for his door. He opened it before I’d even knocked.
“Thanks for seeing me,” I said.
He looked at Colt and shook his head.
“You may come in, Ava, but he has to wait out here.”
“Why?” I asked, sensing Colt’s uneasiness.
“I’m coming in.” Colt went to push past Melbourne, but Melbourne stopped him without even trying. It was like Melbourne was made of brick and Colt was a cotton ball.
“I’ll be fine,” I told Colt. Then I leaned close so that only he could hear, “Remember what you said, Melbourne doesn’t drink human blood anymore.”
Melbourne smiled.
Colt shook his head. “Vampires have ultra-sensitive hearing, Ava.”
I looked at Melbourne, embarrassed. He’d just heard every word I’d said.
“Sorry,” I said, my face burning.
“It’s fine. Are you coming in then?”
I looked at Colt. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll be right here,” he said and folded his arms across his chest.
Inside Melbourne’s home, I took a seat.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he asked.
“No. Thank you. Melbourne... why didn’t you want Colt coming inside? Is it because he works for COMHA?”
“That was for your benefit,” he said.
“My benefit?” I laughed. “But I don’t mind if Colt comes in.”
“You may not want him to hear everything I have to tell you. Some of it is private.”
“Oh.” My mind was racing. Private? What was it that was so important?
“Let me explain. You asked me before what Sara Sweetland and Patrick Mistmoor had to do with all of this. Have you figured out yet who they were protecting? Who they loved so much they would give up their lives?”
I shook my head.
Melbourne sighed. “You’ve heard the rumor that they had a child, I assume?”
“Yes. You mean that’s true?”
Melbourne nodded. “I knew Sara well. She was one of the first people to accept my transformation. Back then, witches and vampires were not allowed to be friends.”
“Not allowed by whom?”
“By the various councils. Today we have COMHA, but at the time it was COMVA, the Council on Magic and Vampire Affairs. They have since evolved.”
“Melbourne, we think someone is working with Polly. It’s not a vampire, is it?”
“Doubtful. Vampires don’t generally work with humans, which is what Polly is considered without her powers.”
“You don’t have any idea who her accomplice might be, then, do you?”
“On that subject, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
I expelled a long breath. “So, you were friends with Sara?” I prompted. At least he could tell me more about this thing with her child.
“Yes.”
“And what does this have to do with Polly and the ritual?”
“The child’s name was Charlotte. I followed her until her death, watching over her like my own daughter after both Patrick and Sara were taken from her. But even then, hard as I might try, I could not unlock the curse placed upon the family.”
“Curse? So, it’s true? Sara stole Patrick from a jealous witch?”
“Stole? Never. Not Sara. Patrick found out the witch he was seeing was practicing dark magic. He left her and went to Sara.”
“And she got mad,” I concluded.
“Sara died defending her child. Patrick died doing the same.”
“What happened to the witch? Was she caught?”
“I... disposed of her.”
“You did?”
I didn’t know why I was so surprised by his admission. I was beginning to understand why Melbourne didn’t want to talk about any of this before. Not many people in town would like the idea of Sara being killed by an evil witch that Melbourne “disposed of.” He was admitting to drinking the blood of a witch.
“What happened to Charlotte?”
“The curse caugh
t up with her. She was murdered one night while she slept.”
“That’s so sad.”
“But at that point, she had already wed and mothered her own child.”
A tingly feeling began to creep up my spine.
“Where are you going with all this?” I asked.
“I have followed the Sweetland-Mistmoor line from the time of conception. You, Ava, are of that line.”
“Me?”
“You carry the blood of Sara Sweetland in you, just as your mother before you. The curse caught up with her, and it is trying to catch up with you now. I thought that Detective Hudson... Let’s just say I had hopes he might save you. But I finally saw that without the full story, you were fighting blind.”
“Wait a second. You’re telling me I’m cursed?!” I screamed. I jumped up and the chair I was sitting in fell over.
The front door banged open, and Colt rushed in. “Are you okay?” he asked, glaring at Melbourne.
“I have no idea.” I looked at Melbourne. “So that’s the reason Polly wants to save me for last? That she wants my soul in particular?”
“The Sweetland-Mistmoor bloodline is a powerful one. The curse makes it even more powerful. Your soul, Ava, will serve her far better than any other person on this island. Possibly the world.”
Colt looked confused as his eyes moved between me and Melbourne.
“But there’s still one more person before me,” I said. “Another victim. Who’s next?”
“You’ve studied the archetypes,” Melbourne said. “What are the three main groups?”
“The Ego, the Self, and the Soul.”
“The Jester and Ruler are both from the Self. The Caregiver and Heroine are both from the Ego. Which group is missing?”
“The Soul,” I said.
“Correct. It is your soul which Polly is after, yet you are the Heroine. You belong to the Ego. What archetype is left that might complement yours?”
I thought about it, scanning my memory for the archetypes in the Soul group. The Explorer, the Creator, the Rebel, and the... Lover.
“Damon!” I cried.
Melbourne nodded.
Without waiting to explain to Colt, I ran out of the house and jumped into his car.
“Previo,” I said and the car started up.
“Hey!” Colt yelled from Melbourne’s doorway. I didn’t bother to wait. There was no time to explain what was happening to him, and he would want explanations. I stepped on the gas and sped off.
