by Chanel Smith
Veronica was laughing when she returned to the car. She carried a bundle of rags which seemed to rattle every time she moved. She had found something. What she had been looking for, it seemed. Her spirits were very high. She could not stop laughing.
“When I thought it was all lost, it turns out she’s a lesbian!” She let out a peal of roaring laughter and slammed the steering wheel. With the hysterics she was in, tears should have been streaming down her face but there weren’t any.
“I almost made a run for it when she came in. I had expected a man, but she must have been one desperate lesbian. No chance she’s come out of the closet. She can’t think of running that place if people knew.”
“So you got what you needed to find?” I asked.
“Yes.” She rattled the rag bundle. “Found what we needed to get. Now let’s get back to Redding and make sure we know the rest of the story.”
She pulled out into the traffic and began to drive north. The car sped onward and onto the highway. She seemed to think for a moment when we stopped at the ramp, but she revved up the engine and charged up the empty road. She explained her thoughts a moment later. “I thought we could go to San Francisco instead, spend the night there. But I’d rather get this over with.”
I nodded. “So what happened there?” I did not expect an answer really, but I figured I would ask, seeing as she was finally in good spirits.
Her happy mood made her much more talkative. She began to tell me about what happened in the office. When she finished that part of her story, we reached a diner and stopped the car there, ran in and came out again within a minute. She said she needed a snack and then drove off.
I did not ask her anything about the snack she grabbed, but I did notice there was something red on her lip.
She continued her story though, and I listened intently.
“The Kelly woman took me down the corridor. We passed the exercise area, where big hunks of muscle and ink were working out. Then the sick bay where the addicts still high on prison quality heroin and a lot of syphilitic and AIDS-ridden inmates were barely being cared for. You know, it scares me sometimes, how disease ridden and full of drugs human beings can be? Well, we passed them and then got to a corridor that led to a flight of stairs. We went down them and turned left, toward a workshop. Through the workshop, we entered another wing of the prison and almost walked straight into its kitchen. At the back of the kitchen was a door, which Michelle Kelly ordered opened. It was a pantry and it led down. Underneath the pantry was a big basement, half of which contained a walk-in fridge and the other half was stacked full with boxes, vats and plastic bottles. I looked at that piece of paper Amy had given me and I saw, to my relief, that it indicated the open half. I wandered around the place a bit, shoving boxes out of the way, and finally I had found the place where I had to be. I pushed a big vat of vegetable oil out of the way and checked, but there was just concrete there. I knew I needed help.
When I asked Michelle Kelly for a crew of workers to break up the floor and dig for me, I noticed she began to hesitate. I touched her hand again, but it did not work. It was too much to ask of her like that.
I looked into her eyes and leaned in, touching my lips to hers. She immediately responded and just went weak. I felt her mouth open and I saw her eyes close. She was mine completely. It took me quite an effort to refrain from biting her though. But the moment I let her go, she called for a guard to bring a party of workers with pick axes and shovels.
They came down half an hour later and she directed them on my behalf. They punched through the concrete and began digging. It took an hour to find what I was looking for. One of the shovels hit something and the something shattered. I went over immediately and looked. There it was. A collection of bones, with decaying rags and scraps of blackened dry skin on them. There was a decayed leather bag with her too and she had an amulet around her neck. It was made of silver and carried the emblem of a dragon.
I asked for and received some sheets and began packing the bones away. We went up to the office again and I gave Michelle Kelly a kiss goodbye, leaving her pathetically dazed and confused. I went past the booth of the guard again and I noticed it was a different guard from when I arrived. He nodded to me and then told me casually that someone had asked to go down to the basement a week ago as well. It had been a woman too, but it had not been logged, nor did anyone seem to remember afterward. He had just come in for his shift when she went down there and he was on a coffee break when she left, so she never noticed him. I asked him about the woman and I knew then why I was looking for those bones.”
I looked at her in wonderment, but it did not take me long to realize what she meant. “You mean?”
She nodded in affirmation. “It was the same woman. Ida Averbach.”
It explained much about her mood. An awful lot. And with her still in a good mood, I decided to press my advantage and ask her another question I had been dying to have answered.
“How do you know her?”
She smiled at me and looked ahead, trying to decide whether she should tell me. She evidently decided that she should. “I met her a few months ago. She is the last of a group of individuals, a family even, who had a large control over the Soviets. She and her people tried to kill some people I was helping. There was a battle, and they lost. There are a few people who know her, but I am the only one out in the open and thus dangerous to her. I am the only one who could give her up and destroy her, finally breaking that clan’s hold on the world. I know too much about her, so she’s trying to get to me. I am the vampire who apparently knows too much.”
Suddenly she stopped talking, realizing she might just have also SAID too much. I hung on the last phrase. Suddenly I recoiled.
“You’re a vampire?”
She nodded stoically. “I am.”
I reached for the door. “Let me out.”
She pressed the central locking button and my pulling the handle was in vain. I was stuck in the car with a vampire.
“Relax!” she said. “I’m not going to feed on you. Well, maybe if you let me, but if you don’t, I’m not going to.”
I could not think of anything I could say to that. Eventually, the stupidest question I have probably asked anyone in my entire life found its way to my tongue. “So why don’t you melt in the sun?”
She looked at me as though I had gone completely crazy. “We don’t melt in the sun. Lots of vampires are nocturnal, and our skin does not develop melanin anymore. It’s one of the bodily functions that stops working when a human being turns into a vampire. With the sunscreens we have now and with all the other things, we’re fine.”
“Is that the stuff I see you slathering on all the time?”
“Yeah. I have a lot of friends in the art and fashion scenes in Los Angeles. A guy made the stuff out of a mixture of heavy duty, high SPF sunscreen and stage makeup. It’s virtually impenetrable once I put it on properly. I will say, California is not great for being out in the day. The sun can be very harsh here. But it’s nice and warm, which is another thing.”
I must have looked absolutely puzzled.
“Noticed that when I was in the northern reaches of the world. Being cold blooded in the cold is not great.”
We drove on in silence after that. It took several hours more to reach Redding. The woman from the day before was already there waiting for us.
***
Belle Fox was unsure how she ended up where she was. She was in bed with a beautiful woman next to her, both of them naked, and she did not know where she was or how she got there. She did not drink and she didn’t do drugs but she just could not figure it out.
The woman next to her stirred. She looked at the perfect face and the perfect skin. Suddenly she remembered. She had been working at the truck stop and she had been picked up.
She worked two truck stops outside Redding since she had been down on her luck. She had been doing that for a year now. The truckers were often fat, smelly and dirty, wanting thin
gs that she was reluctant to do. But since her job had gone with the effects of the economic downturn and the bank was keen to collect on her student loan, she had to do something. So she had resorted to turning tricks at the truck stops.
The one south of the town, where she had worked the night before, was always the best one. There was at least the chance of some Silicon Valley guys passing through who would eagerly take her somewhere for some fun. She had even had one who liked her enough to take her along to the next town and a hotel. He had given her some extra money afterwards, paying not only for her services, but also for a taxi back to Redding.
Last night, a Beemer had picked her up. To her surprise, there had been a woman behind the steering wheel. And she had been a stunner too. She looked vaguely familiar to her. Like she had seen her around town, maybe had even gone to school with her. But she could not connect her face to anything or anywhere specific.
“Hi,” the woman said, rolling over onto her side and looking straight into her eyes. “I’m Amy, Amy Garcia.”
The name rang true. Amy Garcia in Belle’s recollection was a mousy girl in school a year above her. When Belle had become a cheerleader and a very popular kid, Amy had been left in anonymity. She thought perhaps she had even bullied Amy. And this woman was that same Amy Garcia?
Belle looked around the room and saw the expensive furnishings, wondering how she could afford it all.
Amy must have guessed her thoughts. “We’re in the same line of business, Belle, but I am in a class far above you.”
Belle’s mind was racing. Was this woman maybe trying to get rid of competition in the town?
“Like I said, I’m in a league way above you. No need for me to get rid of you. Though I could. But I would not do it myself. I have other means of dealing with you if I wanted to do that. Right now, I need your help.”
“What do I get for it?” Belle asked in a reflex.
Amy laughed.
“You get to keep doing what you do, rather than me phoning one of my special friends who can throw you into the slammer for a while for prostitution.”
That shut Belle up completely. It took her forever to find a rejoinder, with Amy smiling at her all the time. It was a creepy smile, the smile of a person who knows exactly the power they have and knew exactly what they were about to get.
“So what do you want me to help you with?” Belle asked eventually.
So Amy told her.
Chapter Five
“The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.”
—T. S. Eliot
When we got to Redding again, the woman from the day before was waiting for us. With her was another woman. She pushed the other woman, a blonde, into the back of the car, signaling to me that I should get in the back with her, and then got into the front herself.
She instructed Veronica on where to drive to and we set off.
We drove into the hills and back into the trees. Outside we could see the wine regions below us as we climbed. We got to the tree line of the Sierra Nevada again and still climbed up.
In the woods, we turned onto a sandy, rocky path. It curled and twisted up the hill and it ended at a wooden chalet. We stopped there. We got out and I noticed the woman beside me was shaking. I wrapped an arm around her, trying to comfort her. She let me, but it did not seem to work all that much. Amy and Veronica led the way into the chalet.
“It belongs to a client of mine really, but he gave me free use of it. It’s become a bit of a retreat for me, and will probably be for as long as I keep seeing him once a week.”
It was then I made the leap and figured out what she was. It was nearly as big a shock as finding out Veronica, the woman who had rescued me from the inferno, was a vampire.
Amy stuck me and the woman in the same bedroom and told us to wait there while she prepared some things. Veronica said nothing, instead letting Amy just do what she wanted with us. Or for us. I am not sure which one of the two Amy had in mind. I suspect her primary target was to help her friend Veronica. But that mattered little to us. To us it was all the same.
The woman, whom I learned was named Belle, was terrified. She was terrified of what Amy might do to her, and what she might be made to do. It seems Amy had already scared the bejeesus out of her, but that was clearly not the only thing that had her frightened.
***
Belle felt slightly comforted by the presence of the man, whom she learned was called Walker. But she had an inkling about what Amy had in mind with her, and it scared her no end. She could not stop shaking in her fright. When Amy came to collect them, she did not want to go. But she knew she had no choice. It was doing what Amy Garcia, the mousy girl from school, wanted or face prison.
When she came down the stairs to the living room, Belle thought she had been transported to the set of a crappy Hollywood film. There was a pentagram drawn onto the wooden floor with a white powdery substance. At the points and at each intersection of lines was a white candle, burning brightly. In the center stood a large ebony coffee table, with restraints improvised at each corner. Each leg had a rope tied around it, a loop in the rope laid onto the table.
Belle walked down slowly, she did not like the sight of it. Something told her she would be the one to be tied to that table. She could only imagine what would be done to her then.
She saw the woman Veronica leaning against the wall and she wondered what her part in all this would be. Veronica gave her a wry smile, but did not move otherwise, even when Walker offered her a mute greeting.
Then Amy took Belle by the hand and led her toward the table. She kissed her and pressed herself against Belle and began sensually touching every part of Belle’s body that would turn her on. And Belle responded. Her body’s pleasure overcame the fear in her mind and she went along with it, letting Amy undress her and slowly bring her down to the table. Even when the ropes locked her limbs in place, she did not care about anything other than Amy’s attentions. For a second, she saw Veronica talk to Walker. She saw her giving him instructions from the corner of her eye, but then Amy kissed her again and she forgot him.
Belle’s mouth was dry, she thought maybe Amy had slipped something into her mouth, but as Amy’s tongue entered her mouth again, she even forgot about that.
Someone else began paying her attention. A tongue ran over her nether regions and she felt tingles all over her body. Her stomach began to tense and she felt the ecstasy wash over her. She fought against the restraints as her body began to contract. It was the most intense climax she had ever had, it felt like something was drawn into her and began to fill her. She felt completely satisfied, something she had not been since she started working the truck stops. Since then she had become the one fulfilling people’s lusts, now she was the one being catered to.
She knew she collapsed back onto the table, her limbs went limp and she heard herself moan. Amy gave her a last, lingering kiss and then she left her. Belle still felt a warm, post-orgasmic glow, but she missed the warmth of Amy’s body against hers. But she could do nothing than lay there, enjoying the moment.
Then something changed. She felt cold. It felt like her stomach was stretching. She shivered and her abdomen suddenly began to contract. And then she screamed. She did not feel pain, but she knew she should. Something was forcing its way downriver. She felt like she would be ripped apart. She knew then that Amy had killed her and she passed out.
***
I went down on Belle on Veronica’s instructions, while Amy kissed Belle and played with her breasts, neck and everything else she could possibly play with.
I used my tongue to insert the powder Veronica gave me into her, and when she climaxed, I saw the powder vanish completely.
And then I saw how her body began to react. I looked at Veronica in dismay and she came over to lay her hand on my shoulder. I looked at Belle experiencing the same thing my Chelsea had experienced. But Belle was alive, Chelsea’s heart had stopped by the time her body was pu
t through the same horrors Belle was now going through.
I was in shock, reliving the horrors of the night my wife died. Reliving the moments the new her, who was not her, was born. The night before Veronica rescued me.
But it was not the same. Besides Belle being alive and reacting to every shiver and every contraction that was induced in her body, what appeared to grow from her body was not the same. The creature that appeared did not rend her body in two, nor did it resemble the figure I saw appear from Chelsea. When it came, it grew, in the same manner as it had done in the ruins of the Pinewood Hotel, but it came to resemble Belle, not Chelsea. And this demon was wraith-like. It looked like a ghost, not the solid creature it had been then.
It turned to me and smiled in the same way. The same empty look was in its eyes.
Amy came to my side and looked at the creature. She studied it with care and then talked to it.
“Who are you?”
The creature giggled.
“Who made you?” Amy asked, looking intently into the creature’s eyes.
“You did.” The creature giggled.
“Who created you?”
“You did.”
“On who were you based?”
“On the one who knows too much.”
Veronica joined us then, pushing me aside. She looked furious, but held her temper. “What are you?”
The creature burst into a fit of giggles and I thought Veronica might lose it, but when the giggles ended, Veronica was still standing beside me, simply looking into the creature’s eyes.
“I am the witch who never died, and the wraith of the belly of Vladivostok and the Ghost of the Geisha. I am the daughter of Belle Fox and the demons of her soul.”
“You’re her demonic alter ego?”
“I am the witch who never died, and the wraith of the belly of Vladivostok and the Ghost of the Geisha. I am the daughter of Belle Fox and the demons of her soul.”
Belle was slowly coming to and with bleary eyes, she saw the creature that had emerged from her belly. She must have heard what it said too, but she did not seem to make sense of it.
