by Dawn Judd
The thought of being rejected by him hurt even worse than anything else. I loved him. I was in love with him. That was why I left in the first place. I realized that, like Raymond, I would have to watch him grow old and die. I could've turned him. I thought about it a few times. But it wasn't something I wanted for him; and it was something he didn't want for himself.
It was inevitable that the subject would come up in conversation at some point. When it did, we both made our feelings on the subject clear. That was the last time we ever spoke about it. I never asked him his reasons; he never asked me mine. I suppose I was glad for that. Mine were hard to explain.
So when I realized how much I had fallen in love with him, how much it would hurt to lose him the way I had lost others before him, I left. I thought it would be easier that way. I thought, after time, that by distancing myself from him, we would both get over it and move on. The problem was neither of us did.
The more I tried not to think about him, about us, the more miserable I was. Or course it didn't help that Raymond constantly reminded me that I had broken Jake's heart. He knew I was miserable without Jake, and although the reason I was there was to take care of him after his heart attack, he still spent most of his spare time trying to convince me to go back. I always remained steadfast on that issue.
So why was I going now? I didn't even know. Maybe it was the message Raymond had left for me, or maybe it was guilt, or greed. Had I finally given in to my own desires? I wasn't sure, but I knew one thing. I was tired of hurting Jake.
I knew he hadn't moved on; not at all. Although he didn't call me directly, he still called Mack frequently. Mack would relay the messages to me, never forgetting to tell me how hurt Jake sounded, or how lonely he sounded. Mack, like Raymond, was completely Team Jake. While he understood my motives better than anyone, he didn't really care about them. To him, there was no point in preserving my way of life, if it was a completely miserable one.
"Why live forever if forever sucks?" he would joke. I seldom laughed. Mostly because he was right, and deep down, I knew it.
As I approached the exit to Cherokee, I did my best not to look, staring straight ahead at the wet pavement. A lump welled up in my throat, and tears threatened to break free as I passed the exit. I missed Raymond so much. Probably another reason for my wanting to see Jake; I needed someone to hold me. I held the tears back the best I could. It would not do me any good to wreck my car because I was crying and driving in the pouring rain. I certainly wasn't in the mood to shop for cars today.
So I steeled myself and drove on. After a few hours, the rain finally let up a little. I decided it was a good time to stop for gas. If I waited, the rain might kick up again, and I was also not in the mood to spend the next couple of hours soaking wet.
As I climbed back into my car, I decided I better check in with Mack. He answered on the first ring; not a surprise to me, as he seldom let his phone ring more than once.
"How's the drive?" he asked, without even saying hi. I knew he had caller ID, but it still unnerved me sometimes when he would start out our phone conversations that way.
"Wet," I replied, sourly. I let him stop laughing before I continued. "Yeah, hilarious, Mack. How's the search going?"
"Nothing yet. We seem to be hitting dead ends everywhere. Except..." He trailed off. I could tell by his voice that it was something he didn't really want to share with me.
"Except what? Does this have anything to do with the other night?"
"The other night?" Mack tried his best to sound confused. It must've been bad.
"At your house. You looked upset when you came in. I thought it was me, but it wasn't was it? I meant to ask, but forgot. Mack, what's going on?"
He stammered, as if trying to find the words. I waited patiently. Finally he sighed heavily.
"I didn't want to say anything; not yet anyway. I thought we could handle it without you, and I didn't want to ruin your....your vacation."
"Spill it Mack!" I almost shouted. I hated it when he drew things out like that.
"It's Vyktor," he finally said, sounding defeated. A shudder ran through my spine. I slammed on the brakes, nearly losing control of the car on the still wet pavement. I managed to pull over to the side of the road, and threw the car into park.
"What do you mean, Vyktor?" No wonder he didn't want to tell me. God, could things get any worse? I closed my eyes and cursed to myself. Vyktor, like me, was a vampire. Unlike other vampires, Vyktor did not try to avoid me. Quite the opposite, actually. He hunted me, to put it bluntly.
I had spent several centuries making sure he did not find me. It wasn't that I feared for my own life, but I didn't want to have to kill him, and I certainly didn't want to endanger those around me. Part of the duties of the network was to do their best to keep track of him at all times. If we knew where he was and what he was doing, then we could avoid a confrontation. If Mack had any concerns about him now, then he had either found me, or was close.
"Where is he?" I finally asked, hoping like hell, he didn't say California.
"As far as we can tell, he is headed back home." Mack replied, trying to sound hopeful.
"So he was there?"
"No, not here. In San Diego, then Los Angeles."
"So what's the problem, then? That's not that close, Mack."
He paused before he answered. When he finally spoke, I could hear a slight bit of hysteria in his voice.
"Khallie, he was asking around about you.... by name. The name you have now." Yeah, that was bad. One thing I did to prevent from being discovered, either by Vyktor, or others who might piece together that I was a vampire, was to change my name frequently.
The last time I had seen Vyktor, I went by another name, and several others since. For Vyktor to know who I was now meant he had been doing some research. It was a bad. If he found out who I was now, he could track me down. He could find Mack, Marlene, and everyone else back home. He could even find out about the network, putting everyone I knew in danger.
"I'm coming back, now." I finally said. I had already put the car in drive, and was pulling onto the road to do a uturn.
"No," Mack said, so forcefully, that I instinctively slammed on the brakes again. "No, you’re not! He's left, Khallie. He’s already gone. There is no need to come back here, now. In fact, if he has gone home, you are in a better position to keep an eye on him in Mississippi."
I thought about it. He was right. Vyktor, unlike me, did not move around in order to hide his identity. He was predictable in that. Home, for him, was New Orleans. Like many vampires before him, it held an almost hypnotic attraction for him.
It was like it was portrayed in movies; dark, full of death and superstition, and full of vampires. Many vampires, Vyktor included, found it easy to remain unnoticed there. And he seldom left, except for the occasional trip he made in an effort to search me out. I could easily find him there.
In fact, I knew exactly where to find him. The woman he stayed with was, indirectly and unbeknownst to her, a member of the network. People hired by the network made contact with her. Although her allegiance was to Vyktor, her love of money was stronger, and it was easy for them to get information from her.
I would have to go to her to get to Vyktor. This was not a pleasant thought for me. The woman was a seer. She was not one of those fake fortune tellers that set up shop, hoping to make a quick buck on some rich superstitious widow. No, she was the real thing. She practiced in the black arts and voodoo, and her perceptions were almost always dead-on.
That was the reason we did not send anyone directly from the network when making contact with her. If our inside people didn't know who they worked for, she couldn't perceive the threat. I would have to be careful how I approached her.
"You're right, Mack. I can take care of it from there." When I heard him stammer a little, I added, "Don't worry! I won't do anything stupid!" We ended our conversation there, and I pulled back out onto the highway. I stopped only when I needed gas, a
nd although I hated to do it, I made one stop to hunt.
I hated to waste the time, but I knew that it was becoming a necessity, and I couldn't put it off any longer. One of the nice things about being a vampire was that I didn't have to stop and sleep. Although we did sleep, we could go for days, sometimes weeks without sleeping if we had to. So I drove on into the night.
As the sun began to rise, I made my way through San Antonio. I had hoped to stop here, which is one of the reasons I had chosen to drive. One of our offices was located in San Antonio, and I badly wanted to stop in and see some of my friends. But the situation had become urgent. If I didn’t do something immediately, I may never get to see those people again.
So I continued on. It was another eight hours before I finally found my way into New Orleans. I decided not to go directly to Vyktor's abode. I needed time to walk around and gather myself. So I made my way towards the quarter, and found a place to park. I walked for several hours, stopping once in a shop filled with voodoo items. I finally made my way to the woman's home.
It was much like you would expect to find. The building was old and run-down. One had to brave the dark, dank alleyway to reach the door that led to the woman's home. There was only one entrance into the alleyway, and only one door into the building. The adjoining buildings had no doors, and only a scant number of windows. There was one dim bulb that barely lit the doorway.
Although I knew the woman's trade, there was no clear indication of a business behind the door. She had no need to advertise. Those who knew of her knew where to find her. Those who used her abilities, most generally did not have a moral reason for being there. Therefore, it was in her best interest to remain unseen by the outside world. We had that one thing in common; that, and Vyktor. I stood in the alleyway for a long time.
I didn't want to go directly in. I had waited until the sun started to set, because I knew that if Vyktor were back in New Orleans, this is the time that he would leave. I didn't wish to confront him just yet. I needed some information first. When I finally decided he must be gone, I made my way to the door. I did not knock, but walked directly in.
The inside was poorly lit, mostly with candles. It did not disappoint. It was everything you would expect to find in such a place. There were skulls with candles in them, which I had no doubt were human; perhaps given to her by Vyktor. Heavy black curtains hung across doorways and the one window to the outside. I looked around and took in everything slowly.
As I directed my attention to a small stone table towards the back of the room, I noticed the woman sitting cross-legged on the floor behind it. I hadn't noticed her at first, because her skin was as dark as the curtains behind her. She was a small woman with long, gray, ratted hair that touched the floor that she sat on. Her frame was almost fragile looking, but I had no doubt that she was capable of inflicting harm to even the strongest of men.
She glared at me, as I looked her over. I slowly walked closer to her, and as she got a better look at me, her eyes suddenly filled with terror. She did not move, but I could see her body tense. She knew what I was, and even as powerful as she was among men, she knew she had not chance against me.
"You see the future, witch?" I asked. I had learned from our intelligence department that she didn’t respond to kindness or curiosity, and to really get any response I would have to establish my dominance. She grimaced at the word, but still braced herself. She carefully positioned herself so that she could run if she needed.
"I do," she finally answered, with a pronounced Haitian accent.
"Then what do you see now," I asked, pointing at the items in front of her. There were a few small animal bones, and other things I knew she used in her magic. She looked down, ran her hand over the items and looked back up at me. Her posture took on a new tone. She was more confident now, with the sudden knowledge that I was not here to do her in.
"I've come to ask you some questions."
"Questions cost money, even for vampires," she replied haughtily.
“Don’t worry, I have something for you,” I made another step forward. "After you answer my questions.”
“No. I do not answer questions unless I feel like it,” She snarled. “I do not feel like it now.” She nodded her head towards the door, as if to dismiss me. Angrily, I walked forward, no longer concerning myself with her reactions. I grabbed the bones off the table and grabbed her hand. I forced the bones into her hand, holding it closed with my own. She struggled to pull her hand away from mine, but I did not let her go.
“Do you feel like it now, witch?” I spat out at her. Suddenly, as if the bones had spoken to her, she stopped fighting and looked up at me. The blood had drained from her face, and her skin, dark as it was, took on a pale tone. Her hands beneath mine started to shake.
“I am sorry my queen,” she said, in a hushed tone. “I will answer any questions you ask.” I hated to be called that. It was not who I was. But it was what many, in the world of the dead and dying, considered me to be, for many reasons. I was one of the oldest living vampires. I was also one of the strongest, and most powerful.
My heritage also played a part in how others perceived me. Those who knew my past, who I was before I was turned, felt I deserved the title. But it was not my true personality that the woman saw in her vision; just what others perceived me to be. I didn’t like to use it against her, but I didn’t have time to play stupid games with her. I needed answers, and I needed to get the hell out of there.
“The first thing I need is for you to promise me that you will not speak a word of our meeting to Vyktor.” She looked a little shocked when I mentioned his name, but only for a moment. She nodded her head quickly, and I let go of her hands, stepping back to my original position. She rubbed her hands, as if to rub away the visions she had just seen. After a moment, she gave up and looked up at me expectedly.
“Where is he? Is he here, in New Orleans?”
“He is. He left just at sunset.”
“Where was he earlier this week?” The woman hesitated before she answered. She did not like giving me information about Vyktor, but she sensed that I would know if she lied to me, so she finally answered.
“California; Los Angeles, I think.”
“Why was he there?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say. I didn’t ask. Someone came to see him last week.” I could tell she didn’t seem to know who, so I didn’t bother asking her.
“Has he said anything since he returned?”
“Nothing. He seems irritated. Frustrated”
I thought about it for a minute. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Obviously something or someone had tipped him off, and if he was asking for me by name, he must’ve found something that tied me to that person or thing. But what was it? He hadn’t acted on it, and he was frustrated. That was a good sign, I thought. But I had to be sure.
“Has he ever mentioned the name Khalida?” I asked. I almost regretted it, but I could see recognition in her eyes when I said my name, and knew I was on to something.
“Once, two days ago, when he returned,” she replied.
“What did he say?”
“He talked about her as if he might know her. But he seemed…. unsure. He didn’t say anything directly to me, though. More like he was talking to himself. He mumbled something about being too obvious, and that she wasn’t that careless. That was the last time he said anything about her.” She looked up at me, questioningly.
“You’re the creature he’s looking for?" It was more a statement than a question.
“He is anxious to find you. He will be excited to know you’re here.” She smiled broadly, and I couldn’t help but notice many of her teeth were missing.
"You serve Vyktor?” I asked her.
“Yes. He is my master.”
“Then you will protect him?"
“With my life.” The woman drew the words out, enunciating each one. She took on a defensive posture again.
“Then you must do what I ask.” I wa
ited for her to absorb the words.
“It is important that he never know I was here. Do you understand?” I waited for her to acknowledge the question, but she didn’t, so I continued.
“If he finds me, he will be in mortal danger.” I wanted her to understand that she now held his life in her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth as she processed what I had said. She finally looked at me again, her eyes questioning the meaning behind my words.
“I am asking you to protect him,” I finally said, hoping she would hear the conviction in my voice. I meant it when I said it. I didn’t want to have to kill Vyktor, but I knew that I would have to if we had a confrontation. There was a part of me that still cared for him. A very large part.
Although he could not forgive me for what I had done, I could not hate him for feeling that way. I could never explain that to Mack or anyone else. They would never understand. I also knew the only way to keep from being forced to kill Vyktor was to protect him.
The woman seemed to feel that I was being honest when I expressed my wish to protect him. She nodded, and promised to do everything she could.
“One more thing,” I said, as I got ready to leave. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a bundle of herbs, tied together with a piece of twine. “Burn this when I leave.” I threw it across the room and it landed on the table in front of her. She snatched it up, as I walked out the door.
"My payment?"
I tured back and took another package from my pocket and handed it to her. She quickly opened it and nodded her approval, dismissing me. I could smell the burning leaves before I had closed the door, and I smiled. I had given her what her people believed was an herb that removed dead spirits from the place where it was burned. She would gladly burn it,thinking it would rid her of any demon spirit I might have left behind. I wasn't concerned with what she believed.
What I did know was that it would remove any scent that I may have left behind. I did not want Vyktor to know I had been there; and Vyktor knew my scent better than anyone. As I stepped away from the door, I pulled another bundle from my pocket, and pulled a lighter out of my other pocket. I lit the leaves and started walking back out of the alleyway.
