“Vampires have a purpose, a role in the universe. I’m sure you understand that things require balance. We don’t just recklessly murder whenever our hearts desire. We are drawn to feed on specific kinds of people. Remember I told you that man at the motel was a rapist? That he was preparing to murder other people?”
I shuddered, not wanting to relive it. The way he’d served that man to the redbill like some bag lunch…
“We—vampires—can sense someone’s goodness, and, more specifically, their lack of goodness. I was naturally drawn to hunt him because I could sense the darkness in him.” He paused, searching my face.
I did my best to reveal nothing. This was an awfully convenient narrative for vampires. It didn’t escape me that I had no way of verifying that man’s crimes.
“Think of it like fish that bottom-feed to keep the entire lake clean for the other lifeforms.”
Keep him talking. If being perceived as a hero was important to him, maybe I could use that to convince him to release me.
I glanced over the room’s carved-out ledges again, searching for a potential weapon.
He clenched his jaw for a moment but then shifted his shoulders, regaining his air of detachment.
“We do this not just on Earth, but in other places, as well.”
“Other places than Earth?” That took a left turn.
“Specifically, one other place. Think of this planet as a plane where the population is mortal,” he said evenly. “The other world is a plane where the population is immortal.” The vampire set his hands out palm up, using them to illustrate the two planes.
“Have you seen this other ‘plane’?” I asked.
“I was born there.” He nodded his head, as if he were acknowledging his homeland face-to-face.
“Vampires aren’t immortal.” The Bureau had killed plenty of them, and our scientists reported signs of aging. They estimated vampires had a lifespan of 150 years.
“We’re not entirely mortal, either,” he retorted, creasing his brow. “We’re supernatural, the only beings that are meant to travel between the mortal and immortal planes. And we’re hated by both.”
I watched his unfaltering expression. His eyes held steady with conviction. A dangerous thought surfaced at the back of my mind. What if he’s telling the truth?
But Uncle Alan and Bryce always said the most dangerous thing about vampires was their conniving mental acumen. He could be playing an elaborate mind-game, whether it was to get my guard down, get information out of me, or just to amuse himself by convincing me that vampires were good before he tore me apart. Even the crowd’s reaction earlier could have been staged. I’d have to be out of my mind to trust him.
“Our purpose is even more important in the Immortal Plane,” he continued, the evenness returning to his tone. “The creatures that live there have far more strength than humans, and if they’re ill-intentioned, they can do a lot more damage to the balance. My kind has lived almost entirely in the immortal world, since humans have made the Mortal Plane incredibly difficult to inhabit.” He pursed his lips.
“Yeah—because vampires made living on Earth so pleasant for us.” I narrowed my eyes, then exhaled. What in the hell was he talking about? Planes? I got a grip on myself to keep him talking.
“I’m sorry,” I bit out, going for polite but just coming out strained. “Continue.”
“Whether you want to admit it or not, when vampires were around, there were fewer crimes, weren’t there?” he asked, and raised his eyebrows at me.
I didn’t respond. Even if that was true—which, to be fair, I had been hearing a lot recently—that just meant that before, there was an unaccounted-for vampire-on-human crime rate. Is that supposed to be better?
“The balance has shifted since humans drove out the vampires. And not just in the Mortal Plane.” Dorian rubbed his temple. He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “As you’re with the Bureau, I’m sure you’ve heard about the death of Senator Canley.”
“The murder of Senator Canley,” I corrected sharply.
Of course I knew the story of why the Bureau had been founded, a few years before my brother was born. The vampires had finally murdered the wrong man.
He ignored my remark, his voice cool, yet focused. “Something happened after that, and it wiped out my kind on Earth.”
“We hunted you to extinction,” I said bluntly. Although, apparently, we hadn’t been as thorough as we’d thought.
“No. That had an effect, but something else humans did was far more devastating.” His jaw clenched, and fury briefly touched his gaze.
Unease prickled my spine. The only potential weapon in the room was the torch on the wall. Directly behind him. I tried to scope it out in my peripheral vision without looking directly at it, in case my glance betrayed me again.
“The vampire that killed Canley was captured by the Bureau. They tortured him until he eventually broke. It took twenty years, but he finally told them about the Immortal Plane. And then they forced him to take them there.”
The firelight tinted his dark hair, giving him a demonic halo.
“The space between the planes is not meant to be treated like a highway. Not for humans. The boundary… the fabric… tore. Right over our city. Vampires are intrinsically tied to the boundary, because we traveled it for eons, before this tear. It’s part of us.” He paused. When he went on, his voice sounded like gravel. “There were no survivors for miles. Our home was basically destroyed when the fabric tore.”
I’d never heard of anything like that. If the Bureau had discovered where vampires came from, they would have told us. But my mind flashed to the nondisclosure paperwork on the coffee table the night before.
“The opening between the worlds is still there. Permanently open, since the humans’ breach.” Dorian laced his fingers together again and paused in thought before continuing. “And if more humans found out about it, they could try and cross—and that’s the most dangerous thing they can do.”
“Why is that?” I figured he was trying to reason with me. He was trying to make it sound convincing, like he cared about what happened to humans. But what did he want?
“Since so many vampires in the Immortal Plane died when the tear happened, we could no longer keep the Immortal Plane balanced. That world grew corrupt. Immortals are greedy, and that greed is even more dangerous than humans harming humans.” He shook his head, his face forlorn.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Are you seriously painting vampires as superheroes?”
Dorian sighed. “No. Vampires have flaws just like any sentient creature. But without us, evil will continue to grow. In the end, it will consume everything. Everyone.”
I stared at him. His voice echoed through my head again, exhausted and direct: Then I definitely need your help. Was this what he wanted me to help him with? He wanted me, a lieutenant in the Occult Bureau, to help him keep vampires alive… in order to save the universe?
“If your kind are needed so badly in the Immortal Plane, why are you here?” I questioned, unwilling to ignore any inconsistency in his story.
“I told you, the Immortals and humans both hate us. After the tear devastated our population, the Immortals took advantage of our weakness to try and destroy us entirely. We’re hunted and killed in both planes.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re here because the Immortals are more dangerous than humans now. They want to do away with the balance for their own benefit, turning a blind eye to the consequences.”
I held my head in my hands. If this was a mind-game, the vampire might as well have just eaten me then, because he had me far outclassed. Between his apparent sincerity and the fact that he hadn’t killed me yet, I caught myself wondering if he was telling me the truth. Why go to this trouble for a lie? But I still hadn’t seen any proof, and the existence of another plane was tough to swallow without it. I couldn’t afford to trust him.
“This is bigger than both of us.” He leaned back again
st the stone wall. “Without vampires, humans could be wiped out. And without the help of humans, vampires will be wiped out.”
I set my hands back on my knees. My head reeled. “You want me to believe that everything I’ve seen and know is just a façade, and vampires, bloodsucking murderers, are actually out to save everyone.”
“Did you see those children back there?” he asked. “Carwin, with the broken arm?” He winced at his own words, and the pain in his eyes looked real. At least, to my human gaze. “The Immortals ambushed us. We had to cross over to the Mortal Plane to escape. We’re hiding.”
My voice softened. “Why here? Utah?”
“The tear. We’re right beneath it. Redbills can travel it, as well—that’s why redbills are so common around here. We think so many redbills have come through that it’s become more of a gaping, open hole, like a highway instead of a gate—and travelable for humans now, too. Also, the constant energy leaking from the tear covers our auras on human surveillance here in the desert. At least for now. They know the tear is here, so it’s only a matter of time before they find us during their searches.”
The Bureau is searching here? That makes no sense. How could they keep this secret? And why?
“Can’t the Immortals just cross over and find you here?” I asked, trying again to catch him in a lie.
“The Immortals don’t know about the tear. It’s imperceptible to them; only vampires are able to see it, and redbills can also somehow sense it,” he replied. “In any case, the Immortals tend to avoid our mountains, except to hunt. And vampires don’t enter the city. There’s nothing left for us.”
On that note, quiet filled the room. The conflicting voices in my head deafened me. I watched the dark ripples fading in and out across his face like storm clouds.
“I still don’t understand why I’m here,” I said.
“My kind have to come together and grow strong again,” he said firmly. “We must bring back balance. For everyone’s sake. And we can’t do that while we’re scattered and dying.” His irises gleamed white on the word “balance,” and I jerked back a little, unnerved by the change. In the moment it took me to recover, his eyes returned to normal. “We need refuge to recover our strength. We need safety on Earth, away from the Immortal Plane.”
I tilted my head. I thought I saw where he was going with this.
“That’s why we need you.” A muscle tensed in his angular jaw. “You can be the link between us and the Bureau. I must speak with them in order for us to work together and make this right. They have to know how far the consequences of the tear will reach.”
My face froze. He wants to talk to Uncle Alan. How can I trust a vampire near anyone on the board? It’d be a perfect opportunity for revenge.
“They have to know the truth. We—all of us—have to come to an understanding. Everything relies on it.” Dorian smiled humorlessly. “These negotiations will benefit humans, too,” he went on. “Humans need the redbill attacks to stop; vampires can make that happen.”
Words caught in my throat. If he was serious about stopping the redbill attacks, the Bureau would be very interested.
Why would a ravenous killer ask his own enemy for help if he weren’t serious? I couldn’t dismiss the earnestness in his face. Then Uncle Alan’s words found me again. Conniving. Why would the Occult Bureau hide something so important from its own members?
If it wasn’t the vampire in front of me, then someone wasn’t being completely honest. Which made this even more difficult.
“What’s stopping you from using me to get into the Bureau and kill everyone?” I asked. “Try to see this from my perspective. This ‘save the universe’ thing could be your opening gambit for taking out the human race. Last I knew, vampires were extinct. How do I know there aren’t thousands of you in hiding, waiting to annihilate everyone?”
He leaned back and released a weary breath.
“How do I know this Immortal Plane is even real?” I pressed.
This time, Dorian’s eyes darkened, shadows flickering through those swirling crystalline irises. “I’ll show you,” he said grimly.
Chapter Eight
Dorian didn’t wait for me to answer. He strode through the stone doorframe, assuming I would follow. I hated to reward arrogance, but I couldn’t just sit here and wait for a hungry vampire to wander by—especially one of those who’d made it so clear they wanted me out of their hideout.
We hadn’t made it two steps into the main cavern when four vampires broke from the shadowed crowd and blocked our path. Some of them had been in the tear-Lyra-apart circle earlier. I recognized the short young woman called Bravi and the mother vampire who’d kept her children close. A gangly young male vampire lingered behind them.
The man who resembled Dorian stepped directly in front of him and crossed his arms. I looked around the cavern for other vampires and found Kane scowling at me from a corner. His eyes reflected only the torchlight; they seemed almost black otherwise.
“Where are you going?” the man asked in a low tone, glancing at me over Dorian’s shoulder.
“There’s something that she needs to see,” Dorian replied coolly, seemingly unperturbed.
“What does that mean? What is your plan?” the man growled.
“I can’t expect her to believe something she’s never seen, Rhome,” Dorian said. “For any good to come of all this, she needs to see it before she decides what to do.”
“What do you mean, she will decide what to do?” Bravi hissed. “What if she decides to take off?”
Rhome grabbed Dorian’s shoulder and pulled him a few paces away. The other three vampires surrounded them in a huddle, their interrogation muddled but fierce. I couldn’t make out their rushed words. The mother vampire threw her hands in the air. Rhome never released Dorian’s shoulder. Bravi shot a sharp look at me and then launched a whispered assault on Dorian.
Their voices rose as they continued arguing. I stood alone, prickles of alertness crossing my skin, watching Kane stare at my throat. I couldn’t make a run for it with his eyes glued to me.
“…keep her hostage.” It was the mother. “We can’t let her go.”
“If she tells them where we are, we’ll have to flee into wide open territory and pray for another safe spot,” Rhome said.
“What makes you think humans will talk peacefully with us without some incentive?” the mother vampire snapped. “You know how humans are. They only care about themselves. Stop being so blind.”
“What, Kreya, you think they’d be more willing to work with us if we threaten her?” Dorian returned.
“We need to think offensively. They’ll try to slaughter us no matter what, whether we’re just sitting here or keeping her hostage.” Kreya’s eyes leapt to me and then back to Dorian. “Why not get one step ahead?”
“I’m sick of waiting for the Bureau to find us,” Bravi snarled. “We need to act. Now.”
“Enough,” Rhome said, with an air of authority that silenced the group. “Dorian.” He gripped Dorian’s shoulder again, leaning to look him directly in the eye. “I can’t handle the thought of losing someone else.” His sentence trailed off at the end as he swallowed hard and lowered his head. I could barely make out his next words. “Your brother was enough. Too much. We have to stay as safe as possible until we figure out what happened to your parents. And my parents. We can’t put ourselves in the crosshairs again. The less risk, the better.” Rhome’s hand fell to his side.
Dorian looked toward me for a moment, long enough that his eyes clouded over.
Kreya crossed her arms and shook her head, her eyes downcast. A veil of silence fell over the group. The cavern stayed quiet, until Dorian cleared his throat.
“I understand your concerns,” he said. “I don’t trust the humans either.” My heart skipped a beat. “That’s exactly why we need to convince them to help us of their own volition. Threats and hostages will not do that. If we start with those, we give them reason to harm us. If we coerce
them, they will inevitably betray us.”
“They’ll certainly betray us if we let them know where we’re hiding,” Bravi said tightly.
“We don’t have time for this.” Dorian shook his head. The others gazed down at the stone floor. Bravi shook her head. Rhome’s eyes remained closed. He exhaled.
“We can’t waste our resources and our lives trying to subdue the humans when there is a larger threat snapping at our heels,” Dorian continued. “At least my way we have a chance, even a slight one, of avoiding violence.”
Kreya set her hand on Rhome’s shoulder, and he leaned into the touch ever so slightly. It dawned on me that vampires had partners like humans did. Even faced with vampire children, it had never occurred to me that these creatures might love each other, might have families like mine.
An indiscernible mumble escaped Bravi’s lips. Dorian looked around the circle at each of them individually, holding their eyes.
The gangly young male vampire, who’d kept quiet so far, opened his mouth. “He’s got a point, you know.”
“Please don’t encourage him, Sike.” Rhome sighed.
“If we show humans that Dorian and this girl—lady—person—have come to an understanding, and she thinks we deserve help… that’s more convincing than us threatening to kill her, isn’t it?” Sike shrugged, then cringed. One of his arms lay in a sling.
“We cannot assume anything about humans,” Bravi said.
“Well, sure, but we’ll be in more trouble if they get angry and come after us, right? Starting peacefully and hoping for the best would be ‘less risk.’ Like Rhome said.” Sike’s voice grew in confidence, and his thin frame straightened.
“That’s my thought.” Dorian nodded. “I agree with you, Bravi: we do need to take action before they find us. And this is the most low-risk action we can take. They’ll only have access to me. The imminent threat would be more controlled. And if it comes down to a fight in the end, then you’ll be ready for it… but let me try this first.”
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