by Slay (epub)
I didn’t go back to sleep that night and for the nights that would follow, he would meet me, there in my dreams after a long hard battle with myself to not close my eyes. Rather than give me direct answers, he would speak to me in riddles until my alarm would go off at 6:45 in the morning. After each encounter, my soul grew a little colder, a little darker. I began to feel the disconnect between myself and the people around me such as my coworkers and my family. Their stories of detailing their everyday joys like the morning stops for a Starbucks coffee or who said what during last night’s carpool… it all meant absolutely nothing to me. The Florida water was no longer effective, and neither was the aventurine. It seemed that all it took was one slip in not maintaining the ritual for it to be enough for him to cross the barrier.
My grandmother knew. Her eyes held a secret that my father’s lips wouldn’t dare utter, while my mother seemed to operate in a state of oblivion. The sole question that remained was what did I have to do with any of it?
As I laid dying on the stretcher from a combination of blood loss and the curse that came with the vampires’ bite, his memories became my own. The paramedic team’s voices became distorted as I am pulled into a vision of my grandmother in her youth. Cradled to her chest, a tiny infant slept. My mother. Memories from the vampire’s mind flooded my psyche. Pregnant. My grandmother was pregnant the night he stalked her from the bus stop to the newly built townhome she shared with my grandfather. Accompanied by a female of soft dark skin, dark eyes and an even darker thirst, the two vampires appeared at the door, pretending to be lost and in need of assistance.
The secret kept hidden underneath the old home’s wooden floorboards was my grandfather’s stake. My grandmother married into one of the last known vampire hunting families. Instinctively my grandfather knew that these two were not human and barred them entry. The female would not be discouraged and discovered an entry point into their home that had not been prayed over or anointed with oils, blessed water, or frankincense. However, my grandfather, two steps ahead of her shot her in the head with several silver bullets before staking her in the heart, turning the creature to ash.
Heartbroken and full of rage, the vampire swore vengeance on my family. There were many battles between himself and my grandfather before my grandfather died, but not by my killer. Another vampire who had been full and high on human blood. My grandmother told us that my grandfather had died in the Vietnam War. He died in a war alright, but not one that took place in Vietnam.
My grandmother had long proven herself skilled in the arts of magic and of high understanding of the esoteric. As the only child, my mother was protected until she met my father, an accountant who worked for the local bank. My grandmother had taught him what he knew about vampires, thus my father became a hunter, and when my killer came again, this time for my mother, my father was ready.
That’s why they never left my grandmother’s house and into their own residence.
I dove deeper into the vampire’s unconsciousness, spying memories that brought clarity to the many years of being the victim of my grandmother’s suspicion.
“You owe me a mate,” he growled at my grandparents before disappearing into the night. “Whether it be the child who suckles your breast,” he hissed at my grandmother. “Or even her own daughter, but your blood will be mine.”
So, here I am, fulfilling a promise he made long ago. I am the ending of a long-kept secret. Yet my grandmother never protected me as she did my mother or Kayla. None of the vampire’s memories have been able to explain why.
“It was the scratch that I gave you when you were but a babe,” I heard a voice whisper to me as doctors rush the stretcher into the OR. “But I am sure Mrs. Murphy never disclosed that.”
I released a groan as my mind was bombarded with visions from the vampire’s past, including the night he came for my mother. She and my father had gotten into a heated argument. I remember that night well for I was at the dining room table, giggling at the funny faces Kayla made behind our grandmother’s back. I heard them shouting. Tears rained down my mother’s face as my grandmother tried to intervene, but it was clear my mother was fed up.
“This is not the life I signed up for!” she roared as she snatched her black trench coat from the coatrack.
“Marla please,” my grandmother pleaded with her. “It is dark outside, and the neighbors will hear you!”
“Fuck those neighbors!”
My sister and I froze. Never in my twelve years of living had I ever heard my mother belt out such strong language. Rarely did she ever raise her voice and so to witness her in such an enraged form frightened us. What had daddy done to make her so upset?
Next my father stormed out of their bedroom, his expression eerily calm. “Marla, please calm down. I promise you it was nothing- “
“You and I both know that is bullshit!” My mother huffed as she swung the door open.
“Where are you going?” My father asked, trying to stop her. “Please Marla. Don’t do this!”
“I need some air and if you know what the hell is best for you, both you and my mama bet’ not follow me.” Venom dripped from each syllable that spewed from my mother’s lips. My father stood still on the porch and watched her march down the street in the direction of wherever her anger took her.
It was a few days after Christmas, and we had yet to take down the decorations from the big beautiful tree. That night had been particularly cold – colder than the usual fifty-five-degree Los Angeles weather. My sister slid from her seat and into our grandmother’s arms as we all had watched my mother leave us for the “fresh air” that she said she needed.
She returned sometime after my sister and I went to bed. When we woke up the next morning, she wasn’t the same. To be honest, even though she recovered, there were parts of her, that no longer existed.
I believe that a part of my father died with those parts of her too.
She spent days bouncing between feverish temperatures and freezing; she threw up; hallucinated. Rather than take her to the hospital, my grandmother spent every waking moment cleaning her up, feeding her homemade herb concoctions. We were told she battled the flu and not to worry, but as my heartbeat slowed, I realized that my mother had been frostbitten just as I had.
The difference between the two of us was that she survived and well… I did not.
There was no temperature colder than death, and there is definitely no temperature colder than the bite that was delivered. It froze everything within me, stopping my heart and the thirst that burned in my throat craved not just the nutrients that blood provided but the warmth of it too. Many years after that night, I learned that drinking the cold blood of the dead could do more damage than good. My victims needed to be alive and preferably terror stricken, as I would need all the energy I could get.
The last of my human memories were of my family surrounding me at my bedside. Even while unconscious, I could still sense them. My mother’s grief heavier than the rain that poured outside. My father could find no words other than, “I’m sorry.”
My grandmother said nothing. The reason being was that she knew that I was next in line for damnation. But my sister, my poor little sister, there was something different about her. Her grief conflicted with rage – a hatred even.
“I never thought this would happen to her,” Kayla murmured. “And you Grams, you never told her- “
“I gave her specific instructions to follow which she disobeyed,” our grandmother replied evenly.
“But you never told her what was coming or what I am supposed to do,” Kayla argued. “How could you?” She stopped and looked at our parents who were also lost. “How could any of you just not protect her? She was supposed to be like me too!”
“When the vampire scratched her that night he tried to break in,” I heard our father say. “His blood had already tainted hers. There was nothing we could do. We called all of the Elders and we even had several witch doctors come and attempt to extract the
poison from your sister, but they were not successful.”
“But you could have told her what happened,” Kayla insisted through thick tears. “You could have told her that we were next in line to hunt. You could have told her what was coming for her, but you didn’t. Why?”
My mother’s sobs echoed throughout the room. “I’m so sorry Skai,” she whimpered into my ear. “I should have told you.”
“Because,” our grandmother began slowly. “We owed a debt to that vampire and he was determined to hunt our family down to extinction. You are the last of the Vampire Hunters, Kayla. With Skai gone, it all comes down to you. Skai did not have a chance to build immunity against their bites like your mother did. That’s the only reason she survived.”
“What debt are you talking about?” Kayla hissed.
“Your grandfather killed the mate of the vampire that stalked us,” our grandmother said. “As part of his revenge, the vampire demanded a mate for a mate. When he realized that he couldn’t take Marla, Skai was marked when he scratched her.”
When the glass from my sister’s hand slipped from her grip and shattered onto the floor, the machine that monitored my heart rate went off in alarm. It was in learning this final tidbit of information that I was willing to let go of the life I was willing to fight for. It was over. My parents failed me. My grandmother failed me. And my poor sister would be left alone to deal with it all.
I couldn’t even mourn what I was supposed to be because no one ever told me.
And that was fucked up.
He waited for me at edge of the window. His dark skin perfect underneath the night’s dim lit sky. He felt like home now that I was awake and aware. His handsomely chiseled face no longer reminded me of the threatening monster that took my throat all but a few hours ago.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. “I always knew that you would grow into a beautiful woman. Such lovely skin… soft lips… and now that we are equals, you are even more perfect than before.”
He extended his hand. “Come with me. I will protect you and teach you everything you need to know about what you are. You will never have to live in fear again.”
“Skai.”
I am not surprised to discover my sister behind us, standing in the middle of the room in front of the metal slab that rest in the center. In her arms, she held a loaded shotgun and I’m sure the rest of her body was covered with additional weaponry.
“Kayla” I breathed. I turned around to see the full view of her. Her cheeks, stained with dried tears, her eyes puffy and red from crying. I wished I could hug her and tell her that everything will be ok.
Everything would be ok if she lets me go.
“Don’t go with him,” she pleaded with me, aiming the gun in his direction. “He’s taken so much from us. His kind are a curse! Come with me. We can find a cure. Let me help you.”
“I can’t do that. You know there is no cure.”
“We can find one!” She sobbed, as her finger shakily traced the trigger. “It didn’t have to be this way. Our parents, Grams, they fucked up!”
“That they did,” I said and took a step towards her.
“You’re not a monster to me,” she cried. “You will always be my sister.”
“And you will always be mine,” I whispered. Her blood smelled too good to me and I forced myself to stop walking. “I love you Kayla.”
“I love you too, Skai.” She wept. “Please don’t leave me.”
I took a look at her for the final time. All of this was wrong. So wrong. We were supposed to be each other’s bridesmaids at our weddings. We were supposed to be there for each other’s kids. I was supposed to be there to hold her during her first break up and help her along with life until we grew old.
“You know I have to. It is for the best.”
“But I don’t want you to.”
“I don’t want to either. I heard everything that Grams said. At least, now it all makes sense.”
“You would rather go with the fucker that killed you! He stole your humanity and turned you into what you are than be with me?”
“How can I be with you when I want your blood, Kayla?” My honest question made her freeze. Her gaze bounced between me and my maker and then back to me again. The longer she stayed the thirstier I became. My saliva thickened along my gumline and I shuddered.
As if sensing my hunger, she took a step back. “I will never give up hope Skai and I mean that,” she promised. “Go. Run away as far as you can. But keep in mind that I will come looking for you.” She waved the gun at my maker. “It is only because of my sister that I am allowing you to time to escape.”
My maker nodded and gripped me by my elbow, reminding me that it was time to leave. “I wish I could hold you Kayla.”
“I do too, and I am sorry that I didn’t know that you didn’t know…”
I shrugged. “It is what it is. But I will always be your sister and once, once I can control what I am, I will find you and I will protect you.”
“Go Skai. When I find you, I will have a cure. I promise you that.”
My maker didn’t give me any more time to reply because we were in the air, hovering in a flying leap across the parking lot in a blink of an eye. Just like that, in less than twenty-four eyes, everything around me, changed. My sister is now the family’s only hope against vampires and judging by the fire that was in her eyes, the vengeance that she will unleash will be something of legend.
As for me, as much as it hurt my heart to leave her there in that hospital morgue, I knew in the end it was for her own good. I have no idea if I will ever have the discipline to be around her without harming her.
There are too many unanswered questions. I can only hope that if I do see her again, she will see me as her sister and not another frost bite.
Di Conjuring Nectar of di Blood
Kai Leakes
A surging force ripped through her chambers awakening her with a sharp electric start. It traveled through her body leaving a warm, sweet imprint against her lips. Habit made her flick her tongue over the surface, tasting a lingering, robust, and vibrant burgundy essence. The instant her fingers flexed, her dark nails, once extended in length, returned to the mid-length of a person used to working with their hands.
The tight restraint of silk bundled around her fell to her sides. It was a reminder of her curse and the weight and restraint of the many bodies that had toppled upon her causing her dark rebirth. A spark in her head told her who she was. Her name was Isoke. She sat up and pushed her thick braids back.
In the distance, a click then scratchy whirring of a recorder began. Smooth crooning vocals wove with the rhythm and flow of jazz and ragtime music. Lulled sweetness flowed in the air. A click and loud shift let her know she could rise from her hidden rest-a-way in a compartment wall. She opened her eyes to glance around the room then rose from her slumber.
Her awareness was limited to her sense of sound and smell. Her mind was still locked with the dream memories of her ancient life.
“I can still smell and taste the sea,” Isoke thought to herself. It conflicted with the sweetness in the room. Her heart began an erratic dance in her chest. Her hands shook. Her stomach wretched in pain at the sensory memory, and fear bristled up her spine. Her rising fury at the trauma made her scream.
The putrid scent of soiled bodies, sweat, and vomit haunted her. That memory with the ungodly heat of being chained against multiple bodies still frightened and grounded her. This was always the way with her awakenings. The pull to the sweetness in the air made her smile at the realization that she had been summoned. He was close by, stalking, as was his way.
Only he could wake her prematurely like this.
As she was used too, the warmth of candlelight gave her an embracing welcome. She looked to the candles, but she was startled. This wasn’t the light of dimming flames. No, it was electricity. The first time she had seen such wonder was 1887 in New York City. Only a few wealthy people were privileged to its astonis
hing use. Now, it seemed her home was equipped with it. Her love must have been at his scientific crafts or was wealthy.
Catching her attention, she heard a familiar deep and sultry drawl with the lilt of her native tongue speak out to her. “Mi Isoke. I wanted to wake you in case I had ta’ leave. There’s rumors that we may enter the big war soon. Therefore, I wanted ta’ do our ritual one last time to be prepared.”
He was her mate. It was his sweetness that woke her. He had unlocked her hideaway wall. He had opened her cubby. He had undone her bindings. Now why was his name hiding from her. She shook her clouded mind. She’d always known him, but this was the way of her awakening. Hissing, she sharply turned when she heard his heavy footsteps around her chamber. Everything was too loud or too soft.
His low timbre became louder as her sense continued to sharpen. “It has been nineteen years since we’ve last seen each otha—”
“F-found,” she interrupted in a slight stutter. It was always difficult to waken. “E…”
She tried to conjure his name, but it wouldn’t come.
“Take your time,” he gently suggested. Her love’s deep chuckle made her shift her attention his way to watch him through glassy filmed eyes. She couldn’t see his face. Just his aura’s mauve glowing silhouette, a condition only their kind could see.
Because she trusted him, she didn’t lash at him with her nails when he appeared by her side. No, instead, her hand caressed the hard shape of his jaw while the pad of her thumb stroked his mahogany skin. A comforting visage for her hazy mind. He smelled of sweetgrass, pipe tobacco, and apples. She studied the face of her lover’s rugged beauty. Regal but rough and abrasive like a warrior with captivating deep brown eyes. His lush lips held back his usual beaconing smile.
His hair was in a low crop with kinky waves. The raised pattern bumps of scarification in a line from the corner of his right eye reminded her of their shared link and creation of what they were. Only she and others of their kind could see his mark. Her matching sigil was against her hip and stomach.
