Tears of No Return

by David Bernstein

  She also thought about Morgan, concentrating her thoughts on him and all the encouragement he had given her. She prayed silently that his plan would work and that she hadn’t taken too long. If Morgan was dead…No, she could think like that. He was alive and waiting at home.

  Karen parked the car directly in front of the house. It was risky, should the Murphy people somehow come across it, but she couldn’t risk the chance of the vampire attacking her as they walked to the house. She needed to get inside as quickly as possible.

  “We’re here,” Karen said, smiling at her new friend.

  “Fantastic,” the vampire answered coolly.

  They got out of the car and went inside the house. Karen strode swiftly down the short hall, wanting to get ahead of the vampire and to safety. She walked past the living room and into the kitchen, glancing at Morgan, who appeared very much alive with his one good eye staring at her, on the couch.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” she told Garner as he stood just inside the front door.

  The bloodsucker walked forward, his gaze locked on her the whole time. Karen smiled back, eagerly waiting for him to enter the living room. She turned away to hide the anxious look creeping past her defenses. Glancing forward again, she saw Garner about to enter the living room when he stopped, as if he’d hit an invisible wall. A look of surprise showed on his face before turning to one of bewilderment.

  Karen grabbed the rope, ready to yank it the moment Garner entered the room.

  “What the hell?” Garner asked, looking from the couch to Karen.

  “What?” Karen asked, pretending she hadn’t noticed anyone on the sofa. She needed the bloodsucker to take a few more steps, make sure he was far enough into the room.

  “There’s some beat-up homeless guy on your couch.” The vampire took a few steps into the room, approaching Morgan and staring at him intently like a marine biologist discovering a new species. “Hughes, is that you?”

  Karen’s jaw dropped. Garner knew Morgan. She wasn’t sure how in the hell he recognized him, but he did.

  “Now, Karen,” Morgan shouted.

  Karen yanked the rope. All four paintings hanging on the living room walls slid down, revealing the crosses. Garner hissed, immediately covering his eyes.

  “Bitch,” he said. “Morgan, why didn’t you warn me?”

  Karen watched as Morgan sprang up, amazed at how fast he was able to move, and wrapped his body around the vampire. Half of Morgan’s face disappeared, buried into the vampire’s neck. Morgan consumed Garner’s blood.

  The vampire struggled, but to no avail. Like movie magic, Karen watched as Morgan’s wounds healed. She couldn’t believe the speed he recovered.

  Garner tried to shove Morgan off of him. Finally they parted, Morgan coming away and landing gingerly on his feet.

  The vampire was down on one knee, weakened. “What the hell are you?” he asked, glaring wearily at Morgan.

  Karen dove into the vampire’s mind. He wasn’t as weak as he was letting on. “Morgan,” Karen yelled. “He’s pretending.”

  Morgan hissed, hands up, nails protruding like daggers from his fingertips. He lunged at the vampire, but Garner was too fast and avoided the attack. Garner spun on Morgan, smashing a fist into his back and sending Morgan flying into the coffee table, shattering it.

  “I’d heard rumors of something like you,” Garner said, grinning. “Now I know it’s true. And once I kill you, I’ll become a legend.”

  Morgan sprang. This time he collided with the vampire, slamming his spine into one of the crosses.

  Garner howled in pain as smoke rose from his back. The sizzle of cooking meat filled the room. Morgan held the vampire in place for a few moments as Garner kicked and clawed to be free. When the vampire seemed to tire, Morgan released him. Garner slumped to the floor, the flesh at his back molten, weeping.

  Morgan hunched down and sank his teeth into the vampire’s neck. After draining Garner dry, he thrust his hand into the corpse’s chest and tore the heart away. The vampire’s body rapidly deteriorated into a pile of oozing gore.

  Karen looked on with utter amazement at the gruesome but incredible sight. Staring at Morgan, she saw that her old friend was back, looking almost like himself again, apart from bruises and scrapes.

  “Have to vacuum this sucker up later,” he said.

  Karen ran over to him and hugged him tightly. “Are you okay now?”

  “Yes, much better, thanks to you.”

  Karen stepped away, afraid if she remained close she might cry.

  “I owe you big time,” he told her. “Thought I was a goner there for a while.” Smiling, he looked her in the eyes. “You did great.”

  Karen returned the smile, but then her face faltered. Her legs wobbled. The excitement was over, the rush of adrenaline no more. “I think I need to sit down and rest for a little. Maybe get something to eat.”

  “Me, too,” Morgan said, surprising Karen.

  “Eat? You’re not finished?”

  “No. I’ll need another feeding, then I’ll be fully recharged and good to go.”

  Karen nodded, rolling her eyes. “Fine. So, what now? Back to the club?”

  Morgan laughed. “No, I have another idea.”

  Chapter 32

  Warya’s Park was a beautiful nature preserve during the daylight hours, but after sunset it became a dangerous hunting ground for creatures of the night.

  From inside the park, Karen couldn’t see the city or its glare of lights, feeling as if she’d stepped into the remotest of countrysides. A breeze blew inland from the Hudson River and stirred the scent of pine from the surrounding trees. A set of swings swayed in the wind, as if ghost children were idling their time on them, Karen mused.

  “This place creeps me out,” she told Morgan, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

  “I need to feed,” Morgan reminded her. “This place is full of lowlife vamps. Ones that truly need to be disposed of.”

  Karen looked at Morgan, the moonlight’s glow reflecting brilliantly off his eyes. She wanted to see what he was thinking, what the predatory part of him was like. But she resisted, knowing it would lead to nothing.

  “Strange,” he said. “There are usually vamps wandering about in plain view.”

  “Need bait?” Karen asked.

  Morgan shook his head in disapproval and pointed. “See that bench over there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go sit there and don’t move.”

  Karen noticed, off in the distance, a group of teenagers. They were smoking cigarettes, or something else, and holding skateboards. “I take it they aren’t vampires?”

  “No.”

  “Morgan,” a voice said from somewhere in the darkness.

  Karen jumped, looking to see where the voice had come from. When she saw no one, she looked to Morgan, who immediately knew from which direction the voice had originated.

  A figure strolled out of the dense stand of pine. He looked disheveled, like a crackhead. His face was slack, fingers bone thin.

  “Good to see you, old buddy,” the figure said.

  Karen guessed Morgan’s old pal was a vampire.

  “How’s it been going?”

  “Surprised to see me?” Morgan asked.

  “To see you, no. But to see you here? Yes.”

  Karen did a quick probe and knew at once that the man was a vampire.

  The bloodsucker glanced at Karen. “Who’s this you got with you?”

  “The human’s with me,” Morgan said.

  The vampire rubbed his hands together. “She’ll make a tasty snack.”

  “Like I said,” Morgan reiterated, “she’s with me.”

  The vampire smiled. “Heard a rumor about you.”

  “Yeah?”

  Karen boldly probed Morgan’s mind. The chalkboard never went up, Morgan too occupied with his old friend. The vampire was the brother of another vampire named Thomas, now deceased—by Morgan’s hand.

  “
That you killed my brother.”

  “He sold me out to hunters, Dean,” Morgan said, without hesitation. “Your brother nearly got me killed. And he murdered children.”

  Karen connected with the vampire again.

  “And why have you come here?” the vampire asked.

  “To find myself a meal.”

  The vampire did nothing to hide his confusion. He glanced back to Karen, questioned why Morgan was looking for cheap food in the park when he had such a delectable human with him.

  “You know, Morgan. It wasn’t just my brother that wanted you dead. I was in on it, too.”

  Karen knew the vampire was lying, but why?

  Morgan cocked his head. “Why would you tell me that? Aren’t you afraid I’ll do the same thing I did to your brother to you?”

  The vampire laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  Words passed clearly through the vampire’s thoughts. He wasn’t alone, had friends with him—the Morses.

  “Morgan,” Karen said. “We’ve got company!”

  As if on cue, three figures marched out of the trees. Upon seeing the surprised look on Morgan’s face, Karen dove into his head. Morgan knew the men. They were human; hunters. He’d had run-ins with them before.

  The men looked like gunslingers straight from the Old West. They wore cowboy hats and long trench coats. The big man, Ben Morse, carried a crossbow, aimed at Morgan. The two men flanking the big man, Ben’s sons, wielded long lances or pikes.

  “You see, Morgan,” the vampire said. “You’re not going to lay a finger on me.” He took a step forward.

  “That’s correct, Dean, he’s not,” the burly hunter said. Karen watched as the man pointed his crossbow at the vampire and fired. The bolt shot forward, hitting Dean in the back. The triangular head of the projectile blasted through the front center of the vampire’s chest. Dean howled and spun around, confusion staining his face. He took a step toward the hunters then collapsed. The bloodsucker’s body began to convulse and sizzle before coming apart in a mess of slag.

  Morgan turned to sprint. Karen, still tapped into his thoughts, saw that she would be okay. The hunters wouldn’t hurt her, believing she was a prisoner under vampire hypnosis.

  Movement from the big hunter, the one named Ben, caught her attention. He pulled out a gun-like device and fired it at Morgan. The weapon made little noise as two darts flew through the air, hitting Morgan in the back. He went down immediately, his body convulsing before falling still.

  “One hundred-thousand volts will drop any vamp like a stone,” the big hunter said, laughing.

  “What’re you doing?” Karen gasped, walking toward Morgan.

  “You can go now, Miss. This bloodsucker won’t be bothering you or anyone else anymore. He’s been a tricky one. Not sure how he escaped us before, but we’ll make sure he stays dead this time.”

  “He wasn’t bothering me,” Karen shouted, her body fierce with anger. “He’s my friend.”

  The men stopped laughing.

  Ben shook his head. “Looks like we got ourselves a vamp lover, boys.”

  “Disgusting,” said the son on Ben’s right.

  Karen faced the men. “You’ve got the wrong idea. He’s not what you think.”

  Morgan started coming around, his body slowly moving. The hunter raised the weapon again, firing two more darts into Morgan, stilling him with convulsions.

  “I suggest you run along, lady,” Ben said. “We don’t have a lot of sympathy for vamp lovers. You’re only a notch above them on my scum-o-meter.”

  The hunters began walking toward Morgan. Ben’s sons raised their pikes to strike.

  “He’s not a vampire anymore,” Karen pleaded. “He’s like you, a hunter.”

  “I’ve had about enough of you,” Ben said. “Boys, remove the girl.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison, dropping their lances and starting in Karen’s direction.

  They weren’t as big as their father, but large nonetheless. Karen wouldn’t stand a chance.

  She and Morgan had come so far, been through so much, and to let it all fall apart because of these idiots was outrageous. She couldn’t let that happen. Anger boiled within her. It couldn’t all end here. She was about to lose Morgan, someone she’d grown to love, to share secrets with, and to count on. She had to act fast.

  Karen looked in the direction of the two approaching men, focusing on the space between them. Using her peripheral vision, she saw them as a single entity, but in two places, and probed them together. She wasn’t sure it was even possible to do such a thing, but tried.

  Her mind was bombarded with a cacophony of the two voices, almost causing her to drop the connection as she was unable to decipher their words. Then, like putting the correct puzzle pieces in place, she was able to hear both sets of thoughts clearly. The man on the right thought she was hot and wouldn’t mind doing her. The other man just wanted her to leave the area so he could get back to business. She amazed herself at being able to read two minds at the same time. This was new territory, something she had not yet thought about. It was definitely something she would have to experiment with at a later time.

  She tried delving deeper into the two minds, hoping to repeat what she was able to do with the agent, but the strain was too much. She quickly abandoned her connection to one of the men, focusing strictly on the brother that thought she was hot.

  Karen was in a world unto herself now, seeing only the man she was probing. The peripheral vision was gone, blacked out as if she were looking through a tunnel, the man’s face at the end. Sweat began building on her skin. Karen was in deep, seeing more than just present thoughts. She saw fears, desires, and a number of other private things. She saw the man’s mother lying in a coffin before opening her eyes and mouth, fangs bared like a wild animal. Karen wrapped herself around the image, bringing it to the forefront of the man’s mind.

  She knew the man’s name. It was Boyd Morse, son of Betsy Morse.

  Boyd halted, as if his feet became cemented to the ground, his face contorting into an anguished grimace. He cried out, “Momma, no!” and fell to his knees, sobbing.

  Boyd’s brother turned upon Boyd, his face appalled. He glanced back to Karen, pointing a finger. “Witch!” he shouted. “Dad, she’s a witch!”

  Deciding to go with it, Karen said, “That’s right. I am a witch and a very powerful one, too.”

  The brother’s face screwed with rage as he charged Karen.

  “Stay at ease, Jim!” the father commanded, stopping the charging man in his tracks. Karen was impressed with Ben’s control over his son, but began back-pedaling as the man stormed toward her. She couldn’t show fear. She was a powerful witch and needed to act like one. Righting herself, she took a step forward. The son named Jim stopped, appearing wary.

  “You’re going to let my friend and I go or your boy here dies.” Karen felt her voice wanting to crack as her body trembled with nerves.

  “Bullshit,” Ben said, the wariness no longer present. “You ain’t no witch. But you are something else, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right,” Karen said, making sure her voice boomed over the crying Boyd. “Something much more powerful. So back off.” She took a step forward.

  “What have you done to my boy?” the man asked.

  “He’s getting a visit from Mommy and will go permanently insane if I don’t release him soon.”

  Ben and Jim remained where they were.

  Karen moved beside Morgan. “Drop the Taser,” she demanded.

  Ben did as he was told.

  Karen yanked out the darts. Boyd continued crying, but was now writhing on the ground, his condition worsening.

  “Dammit, woman,” Ben said. “Take your spell off my son.”

  “Not until we’re safely out of the area.”

  “Release him now. I won’t tell you again.”

  “I say we kill her, Dad,” Jim suggested. “Maybe it’ll break the spell.”

  “Do that
and he’ll die for sure,” Karen said, trying to wake Morgan by shaking him. She felt herself growing weaker. Keeping her connection to Boyd was draining. How could she expect to add walking to the other activities without completely depleting her strength? And once they knew she was no longer a threat, they’d kill Morgan for sure, and probably her, too.

  “I want to show you something,” she said, and pulled out the cross-necklace Morgan had given her. She held it out for them to see. “I’m going to place this on Morgan’s skin.”

  Ben eyed her suspiciously. “I don’t think so. Jim, give the lady one of our crosses.”

  Jim removed a small wooden cross from one of his pockets and tossed it to Karen. Next, he produced a small vial and tossed that to her, too. “Holy water,” he said, then pulled a chain with a large cross on it from his shirt and let it rest against his chest.

  Ben followed suit and produced his own large silver cross from under cover of his shirt, letting it dangle on the chain. Karen figured they all wore them, but had kept them tucked away while dealing with Dean.

  Morgan stirred.

  “Morgan, sweetie,” Karen said, shaking his body while keeping an eye on the hunters. She placed the cross on his forehead, then looked at Ben. The hunter’s mouth hung agape, his disbelief clear. She took the vial of holy water, undid the cap and poured the contents over Morgan.

  “What the hell’s going on, Dad?” Jim asked.

  “You see,” Karen said, her voice stern. “He’s not what you think he is.” When the vial was empty, she tossed the container back to Jim along with the cross. She stood and disconnected from Boyd, and he immediately ceased sobbing but remained shaken.

  Ben said, “I’ve never seen such a thing.”

  “He isn’t bothered by the sun either,” Karen added.

  “That would explain his escape from our trap the other day.”

  “It’s got to be a trick, Dad,” Jim said, looking ready to attack.

  “There’s no getting by the cross or the holy water, Son. You know that.”