The Fertile Vampire

by Ranney, Karen

  “Do they react this way to every drive by?” I asked. “Or is this because of the Vampire Academy?”

  Dan shrugged, leaving me to interpret that any way I wanted.

  I slid down from the truck, pulled my top back into position and stood there feeling nauseous.

  San Antonio occasionally had the aura of a sleepy little town, but in the last few years we had to fight the incursion of gangs, not to mention activity from the Mexican drug cartels. Our police force was one of the highest paid in the nation and I suspected they earned every cent.

  Someone was walking toward me, his face a granite block. I sighed, recognizing the homicide detective from the restaurant. I couldn’t remember his name, though, but he remembered mine.

  “Ms. Montgomery,” he said, stopping a few feet from Dan’s truck.

  “Hello.” I mean, was I a brilliant conversationalist, or what?

  “I understand it’s your car,” he said, making a sideways motion with his head toward my Kia.

  “What’s left of it,” I said. I counted at least a dozen holes in my car.

  “Seems someone doesn’t like you,” he said.

  “Evidently not.”

  I had the greatest respect for the police. I wasn’t a Badge Bunny, but I knew they had, for the most part, a thankless job.

  I’d thought his eyes were kind the first time I met him. Now they weren’t. Instead, they were filled with contempt. What I didn’t know was if it was reserved solely for me, or if it was directed toward all the Kindred.

  “Do you have any idea who might have done this?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Why are you here?” I asked. “I thought homicide detectives only appeared on the scene when someone died.”

  “You’re a witness to a hit and run. I found it odd someone would attempt to kill you.”

  The word was a common one used in everyday speech. We said it all the time. Kill the switch. Curiosity killed the cat. Kill the pests in your house with Bug Begone! But said that baldly and with the blue and red lights flashing, it took on another meaning, one essentially evil.

  Kill. Someone wanted to kill me. Marcie Montgomery succumbs to Second Death. News at eleven.

  If Opie hadn’t been able to be survive her injuries, I doubt I would have been able to regenerate after being struck by a fusillade of bullets.

  I shook my head again, feeling like a bobble head doll.

  At the moment I was thinking about fainting which would stop the questions and my fear. You didn’t feel much when you were unconscious. But unfortunately I was made of sturdier stuff. I remained conscious and on my feet.

  We were going to stonewall each other. If I knew anything, which I didn’t, I wasn’t going to be in a hurry to confide in him. Conversely, I’d be willing to bet the detective wasn’t going to go out of his way to enlighten me about anything.

  “Marcie?”

  I turned to find myself enveloped in a choking hug. I’m not a hugger, normally. I give people their personal space. Even with family I’m a little awkward when it comes to gestures of affection.

  In this instance I didn’t have a choice but to pat Meng on the back. I forced a smile to my face, hopping he stopped hugging me sometime soon.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, finally pulling back.

  His hair fell over his forehead. His glasses were smudged and his small mouth pursed in concern.

  I nodded.

  He studied me, the red and blue lights reflecting off the lens of his glasses.

  “You’re not,” he said, shaking his head. “You look scared to death. No wonder. What happened?” He lowered his voice and leaned close. “Who did you piss off?”

  At least that was an honest question.

  “Evidently somebody,” I said. Either someone who wasn’t in love with the idea of me being a vampire or who didn’t want me breathing at all.

  “I didn’t see you at Opie’s funeral,” I said, at a loss for something to say.

  He nodded several times, staring down at the street. When he looked up at me, I was shocked to see his face wet with tears.

  “I couldn’t go,” he said. “I couldn’t go to the conflagration.”

  I hadn’t heard it called that, but I guess it was as good a word as any. Come to think of it, it might be a better word than “funeral”. The ceremony I’d witnessed had been unlike any funeral I’d ever attended. Hopefully, I wouldn’t ever have to go to another.

  “It was a lovely service,” I said. A woefully inadequate comment but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “She was at peace?” he asked in a thready voice.

  How did I answer him? She hadn’t looked at peace. She’d looked mauled. But I remembered Meng had gotten physically ill at the sight of Opie, so the less I said about her appearance, the better.

  His eyes suddenly widened and I followed his glance.

  Kenisha stood at the front of the car, the headlights illuminating her dark pants and top, but leaving her face in shadow.

  I might be a vampire but I swear a goose ran over my grave just then.

  As a police officer, Kenisha was armed.

  I am not a badass. I have never pretended to be a badass. I don’t have any kind of belt in martial arts. I don’t have a permit to carry a concealed weapon and I wouldn’t know how to shoot a gun if you handed me one. Okay, I know the barrel end goes away from me, but that’s about it.

  Had Kenisha been angry enough about Ophelia to shoot at me?

  When I traveled for business I carried pepper spray and a police grade taser. Maybe I should have them handy from now on.

  Being a vampire didn’t mean I was exempt from danger. I could still be raped. I could still be assaulted and hurt. According to the Green Book, I was supposed to have a long lifespan. I could live to be a crone. Hopefully, a wise old crone. Right now, however, I was worried about getting through my thirties, to hell with three hundred years in the future.

  I glanced at Dan standing near the tailgate. Either I’d suddenly acquired the ability to transmit thoughts, or my desperation to get out of there showed on my face.

  He nodded and went around the truck, getting behind the wheel.

  “Can I go?” I said, turning to the detective. I’d finally remembered his name - Halston.

  When he didn’t answer, I took it as a yes.

  In full view of a dozen people, I scaled Mount Ford, my ass no doubt my most prominent feature at the moment.

  The moment I closed the truck door, Meng jumped up on the running board, startling me.

  I pushed the button and the window rolled down.

  Meng leaned in, giving me his business card. “Call me if you need anything,” he said. “Even to talk.”

  He added a compassionate smile and jumped back as Dan rolled the window up in his face.

  I glanced at him, smiled, then closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

  “Home, James,” I said.

  I was half tempted to glance back and see if Detective Halston was watching me. I didn’t because I could tell he was, his beady little eyes boring holes in my spine.

  Sometimes, it’s not good to be a vampire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Girl, you’re a woman now

  Cramps woke me around six the next evening.

  I lay there, biting my lip, feeling the familiar vise around my abdomen. If I moaned would only make the pain worse. Giving in to whining never helped anything.

  Years of experience had taught me that concentrating on warmth seemed to help. If I could imagine a heating pad cradling my stomach the cramps seemed to loosen their grip. The discomfort only got worse when I was tense.

  My eyes flew open.

  I couldn’t have my period. I was a vampire.

  I was a vampire.

  Vampires didn’t have periods.

  This vampire was having one.

  Once I’d taken care of everything, I sat on the edge of the bed, then fell backward, staring up at the ceiling. I must
have remained in that position for a good thirty minutes. I wasn’t thinking anything as much as trying not to think of anything. Luckily, however, I’d still had some feminine products in the bathroom cupboard.

  Finally I got up, went downstairs and found the Green Book, skimming to the section entitled “A Message to our Female Kindred”.

  You will not suffer the onset of menses in the future. Your altered state will preclude the normal bodily functions of your gender. Do not be concerned this will render you less desirable or less womanly. On the contrary, your femininity will be enhanced over the coming years.

  I hadn’t given my period any thought, considering it one of those things I wouldn’t have to bother with, like pre-need funeral arrangements and life insurance. Sort of a hysterectomy by fang.

  But the cramps were there and so was the spotting.

  Something was wrong. Even I, a newbie vampire, knew that.

  I needed help, advice, and counsel. I wasn’t about to talk about menstruation with Il Duce. This required a woman’s touch. My own grandmother had zapped me, so she was out. I doubted my mother would help.

  That left Kenisha and I wasn’t about to confess I had a period to her. She’d probably report me to the Council. And, if she discovered I was eating as well, I would probably be put in a dungeon somewhere until I was “cured”. Or displayed somewhere as an oddity.

  Did Pranic vampires get a period?

  That left Eagle Lady. If she was considered wise enough to instruct Fledglings, perhaps she was smart enough to give me some insight into what the hell was happening in my life.

  Or tell me what I was.

  Two days later I took a taxi to the campus at eleven thirty. I wasn’t eager to return to the scene of the crime as it were.

  My car had been towed away, a total loss. The doors and windows might have been replaced, but it was the damage to the engine that had done it in. Since I only carried liability, it was now up to me to buy a new car. Thanks to my death benefits it wouldn’t be a hardship, unless I opted for a bulletproof model. I wondered if I should give the idea some consideration.

  Tiny shards of glass glittered on the pavement, a reminder of what had happened. No, I really didn’t want to be there.

  When I got out of the cab, I asked the driver to wait for me.

  “You can call when you’re ready,” he said. “Save you some money.”

  “I’d rather have you wait.”

  “Are you one of them?” he asked motioning with his chin to the orientation building.

  I debated whether to lie or tell the unvarnished truth. I ended up with the truth.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea what I am,” I said.

  The chances were even he’d take off before I returned. I did something I’d seen Bill do once. I took a fifty dollar bill and tore it in half.

  “I’ll give you the other half when I get back.”

  “You may owe me another,” he said. “I can be had but I’m not cheap.”

  Since it had already cost me twenty dollars, I agreed with him.

  “Spooky place,” he said, looking around him at the encroaching forest and large bushes turned to hulking monsters by the darkness.

  He had no idea.

  I’d timed my visit so class would already be out. Room 201 was empty, the door open. Miss Renfrew stood at the whiteboard, sweeping an eraser over it. I caught the words “drainage” and “suppuration” before they, too, were gone.

  If that was the lesson for tonight I was glad I hadn’t come.

  I raised my hand to knock but before I did, she spoke.

  “You have not been in class, Miss Montgomery.”

  “I won’t be back, Miss Renfrew.”

  She turned. “Why is that?”

  “I came to ask you something,” I said, instead of answering her. “What can you tell me about a Pranic vampire?”

  “The Pranic, is it?” She looked down her beaklike nose at me. “Why would you want to know of the Pranic?”

  I licked my lips, entered the room, and closed the door after me. I’d thought about confiding in her in the last five hours. I had no guarantee she wouldn’t immediately go to Il Duce, but I had to take that chance.

  “I don’t need blood to live,” I said, sitting at the student desk I’d occupied before. “I can feel my heart beat. Not as often as it did before, but it still beats. I breathe just as I always did. I’m not cold. I’m hot, instead.”

  She took a few steps to the left, still clutching the eraser. “And you think you’re Pranic?”

  I nodded. Il Duce thought I was, too. But there was something else Il Duce didn’t know. Something I wasn’t eager for him to know.

  “Miss Renfrew, will you promise not to tell anyone what I’m about to say?”

  I might be foolish, but I had the idea Miss Renfrew was a woman of her word.

  “You wish this conversation to be confidential?”

  I nodded.

  “Will this information prove to be detrimental to the Kindred?”

  I shook my head.

  “Will this information harm anyone?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Then, yes, I will keep this conversation confidential.”

  “I’m able to menstruate.”

  She stared at me, her eyes boring little pinholes into me.

  “This is not possible,” she finally said.

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  Miss Renfrew retreated a few steps. Her lips were bluish, her face paler than the white board. Her eyes widened as she stared at me.

  Do not be afraid.

  She took a few more steps back.

  “Only the oldest Masters can transmit thoughts,” she said.

  “Or a Pranic vampire?”

  She shook her head. “I have heard of a Pranic with special powers, but it is a legend. A myth. It is nonsense, carried down through time like the tale told around a campfire.”

  At this point, I was willing to listen to anything. My research hadn’t found much about the Pranic. The only thing close was the word “prana” which meant life force. Nothing about a vampire having special powers.

  Let’s recap, shall we?

  I’m one of the living dead.

  Except I don’t feel dead.

  Except I breathe.

  Except my heart still beats, albeit slower than normal.

  Except I can eat food and I do. Yes, I certainly do. I was hungry right now.

  Except I can see myself in the mirror.

  Except I don’t need blood to survive.

  Except I’ve got my period.

  I might consider the whole situation a horrible hoax.

  Except I woke up in the VRC.

  Except sunlight burns me.

  Except I now have the ability to mentally converse with people.

  She shook her head, still staring at me.

  Please tell me.

  Her eyes widened. “You cannot compel me, child.”

  She probably had four hundred years on me, but I had something she didn’t - a desperate need to discover what I was.

  God help me, but I wanted to try to force her. I wanted to tie somebody, anybody, down and make them answer my questions. Instead, I dropped my gaze to my hands, white-knuckled on the edge of the desk.

  Please.

  She dropped the eraser on the tray beneath the white board and slowly walked to me. She turned the desk Ophelia had occupied with an ease belying her frail appearance. Dropping into the seat, she clasped her hands on the top of the desk and regarded me.

  “A female will appear to give the Kindred back their humanity. She will not be Pranic but a Dirugu.”

  That was new.

  “What is a Dirugu?” I pronounced it the way she had, dear-oo-goo.

  She waived one blue veined hand in the air. “A Dirugu is a creature who is not human, nor one of the Kindred, but a combination of both, perhaps.”

  “What makes a vampire a Dirugu?”

  She didn�
�t answer me, only frowned and continued.

  “With the Dirugu’s help, the Kindred would be able to walk into the sun without being harmed. They could feel the heat, know the beating of their hearts, the breathing of their lungs. They could have children.”

  “And how would the Dirugu do that?”

  “By her sacrifice,” Miss Renfrew said, staring at me.

  I was suddenly as cold as the oldest vampire.

  “What kind of sacrifice?”

  “It’s a myth, that is all. A yearning from the Kindred. Nothing more than a child’s story.”

  “Then what is happening to me?”

  She slid from the desk.

  Tell me.

  She shook her head and I knew I wasn’t going to get any more from her.

  Standing, I followed her to the door. “Is there someone else? Someone who could tell me what I need to know?”

  She didn’t look away, her brown eyes as dark as a wet stone. “The fewer people you tell, Miss Montgomery, the safer you will be.”

  Was she going to tell the Council everything I said? I was too damn honest for the world of vampires. I said what I thought. I kept my word. I wasn’t equipped for subterfuge and saying one thing while meaning another.

  “You should leave now.”

  I opened the door, wanting to say something, knowing there were no words strong enough to convince Ms. Renfrew to help me. I represented the antithesis of the world she knew, the world she taught.

  “Do not come back here.”

  I didn’t answer, merely closed the door behind me.

  “Are you all right?” Meng asked, seconds before smothering me in an embrace.

  He had to stop doing that.

  I wasn’t a huggy type person. Heck, I didn’t even like to slow dance. The only embracing I did was in my bed. But as I’d already discovered, when Meng wanted to hug me, there was nothing I could do about it.

  At least my purse was wedged between us so my breasts weren’t flattened against his chest. My hands waved in the air and I finally placed my fingers on Meng’s back.