by Alex Dire
Norman leapt onto the next, which now had his hands around Cindy’s throat. She clawed and kicked at him. He seemed to overwhelm her so easily. Norman grabbed one of his arms and wrenched it off Cindy’s neck. It tore off a layer of skin. She shrieked and covered the wound with a hand.
Norman pulled back on the arm and felt it break. The wolf spun at Norman and punched him in the gut. It felt as if the fist pushed all the way up inside his rib cage. Norman flew back and crashed to the floor.
The bloody PE teacher stumbled toward the rear door of the gym and fell through it. The others quickly followed.
Norman was content with their retreat. He dashed to Felicia and inspected her chest. No sign of penetrating wood wounds. Her hair was matted with blood, but her skull had nearly healed from its impact wound.
Norman dashed off to see Declan. Entrails slid through Macmanus’ fingers as he tried to slide them back in, his face stoic, showing no signs of disgust. What history had prepared him for this?
“I tried to put him back together so he could heal and fight,” said Macmanus. “I’m no doctor.”
Norman heard whispers from the broken gymnasium doorway. A crowd of students stood in the opening. None dared cross the threshold.
“Back to class,” came the voice of Kelly Houser from the back of the crowd. “Everyone back to class.” Her commands had no effect.
“Move aside, kids,” came another voice unfamiliar to Norman.
The growing sea of students parted and let two police officers through. They were followed by EMT’s with a stretcher. Ms. Sperry hustled in behind them.
They all approached the other end of the gym where the wounded vampire students lay about.
One of the police lifted his hand to cover his mouth on seeing Declan’s massive wounds. The other stopped, her glance darting between each of the students, her brow rumpled.
Ms. Sperry’s heels clicked their way across the wooden floor to Norman. She looked white and covered her mouth with a hand. Norman moved between her and the gore to spare her.
“I called 911.”
“Thank you, Elaine. I think you should go back now.”
“What happened Mr. Bernard?
“Go back. I’ll explain later.” Norman gave her a quick, reassuring embrace and she left.
Norman followed her to the broken doors. The staring crowd of students all tracked his path. He reached the bewildered mob. He looked down on them putting on his best teacher face, eyebrow raised, corners of his mouth slightly down turned. “Please. Return. To class.”
The mob backed up in unison and flowed back into their rooms, silent as grass. He didn’t even need to glamor them. They knew what he was.
Norman spun to see the EMT’s kneeling next to Declan and taking his vitals.
One of the technicians put a hand on Macmanus’ shoulder. “Please,” she said. “We’ll take it from here.” The other unpacked paddles from an organ case.
Norman jogged back over. “No! Wait. Stay back. That won’t be necessary.”
Macmanus put the last of Declan’s guts back in. The tissue began to stitch itself back together, forming a translucent membrane that thickened and turned pink, like the skin under a picked scab. Declan coughed as air replaced the blood in his trachea. Blood sprayed in spasms from his mouth onto the EMT’s. Reflex drove recoil.
The police stared at the rapidly healing teen.
The other nymphs gathered around Declan. He blinked and looked around the gym.
“Well, officers, would you like to take their statements?” said Norman.
They both stood mute.
Finally, one coughed. “Are they…?”
Norman saw little point in the procedural doings that would follow. He honed his will on the officers and EMT’s. The echoing gym’s details pulsed to prominence. The orbs floated. “This was just a false alarm. A prank.”
They nodded.
“You should be getting on your way.”
The EMT’s packed up their equipment, and they all left.
Norman released his effort and looked back to his nymphs. Declan was nearly healed. Darius and Tyreese’s myriad scratches had disappeared. Felicia rubbed her head.
They all, however, stared at Norman without speaking a word.
Why were they all looking at him? “What?” said Norman. “Is everyone okay?”
“Your map,” said Felicia pointing to his chest.
Norman took it out and looked at it. “Oh, I’d forgotten it was here.”
“No, Mr. Bernard,” she said. “When you were glamoring them. It glowed.”
Back in the office, Norman sat with his students around him. Darius paced. Tyreese fidgeted with a pen. Felicia bit her lip.
Norman lay the folded map on the table. He’d need to consider it more. But not just yet.
“What were they? They smelled like dog.” said Declan.
“Wolves,” replied Tyreese.
Darius stopped pacing. “I thought the wolves were on our side.”
Norman wished that were true, but he himself had opened a rift in the werewolf pack. “Not all of them. Maybe even not most.”
“Why were they here?” asked Cindy.
“I honestly don’t know.” Things were getting so complicated. Why would the wolves move on them? The nymphs were no threat. All they needed were more enemies now
“They were so strong. So fast,” said Cindy.
“They are special. Like us.”
“Why did they leave?”
“I suspect that I showed up before they could…”
His students stared at him, motionless.
“I didn’t know they existed until about the same time you did. They seem to be uniquely suited to deal with…us.”
“Were those Juda’s friends?” asked Declan.
“I sincerely doubt it.”
Felicia was the only one who seemed disinterested in the details of their attackers. “What happened to your map.”
Norman looked back down on his desk. He unfolded the map and lay it out. He ran his eyes over the network of tunnels that he’d puzzled over so many times. “Wait.”
“What is it?” replied Felicia.
“It’s different.”
“What?”
“It’s different than before. The tunnels are not the same.” He quickly tried to catalog the corners and twists. Some were the same but had moved. New parts of the catacombs were revealed and more familiar parts pushed off the side. “This is a different view of the catacombs.”
“The map changed?” said Felicia.
“Apparently.”
9
Felicia
Felicia walked home alone again. Both Declan and Macmanus insisted on escorting her. Fuck that shit. She was powerful. Macmanus had her on age, but she’d created Declan herself. Oh, Declan. He struggled so hard to understand.
The day’s events had shaken her severely. She had begun to feel powerful for the first time in her life. No man could control her or force himself upon her again. She’d make anyone pay who even tried.
Despite his size and often threatening posture, Declan was quite gentle. He loved her. She would always be bound to him. She could feel that. Even now, when he wasn’t there with her. The connection felt good, like family. Like her abuela.
Felicia quickened her pace. She felt the need within her. Mr. Bernard said that the cravings would get easier to control with time, but what’s time to a vampire. A month? A year? A hundred years?
She glanced across the street at the alley where’ shed been mugged. She stiffened her spine thinking of the beating she’d given those wretches. But then. A tingle. That feeling. She’d have missed it if she wasn’t alone and quiet. The others didn’t seem to feel it. Just her. Well, her and Mr. Bernard, anyway.
She crossed to the alley and looked in, remembering the fight from before. Losing her restraint. Drinking those two men. How good the warm liquid felt. How powerful it made her feel. It would be easy to hunt and drink.
People were right to be afraid of her.
The feeling tickled at the back of her mind again. Danger. She could run into that alley and wait for innocents to walk by. She could drink. Her mouth filled with saliva. She smelled the blood, like iron and meat. Then she remembered Mr. Bernard’s rules, closing her eyes. Breathing. Slowing. The desire drained away almost completely. Almost. Better get going.
Her eyes opened. The tickle in her brain. Her ears picked up a twang and a swish of air. Then she felt it. Sharp pain. Worse than being stabbed. An involuntary shriek scraped through her throat. A shaft stuck out of her gut. It came from the alley.
She turned to flee. Two more twangs. A shaft penetrated her neck. Another her eye. The sensation of wood tearing through her body sent her reeling.
She managed to land on one knee, blood flowed down the shafts that stuck out of her body and pooled on the ground. She gripped the one in her eye. It had pierced at an angle, the point sticking through the side of her head. Yanking it free sent blood and tissue spraying out. With the wood removed, the gristly wound began healing immediately. She stood back up and wrapped her fingers around the shaft in her stomach. She gripped the black feathers of an arrow.
Before she could yank, she heard two more twangs again. The first arrow punctured her gut, the second her shoulder. She fell back again, landing on her spine. The sound of wood and ribs cracking preceded her scream. The bitter taste of her own blood coated her mouth.
She struggled to sit back up, but hands grabbed her ankles and dragged. They pulled her into the darkness of the alley. She peered up at them, through he dark, through the pain. Men stood above her. There were at least ten. Some had bows, others held pointed wooden stakes in their hands. Felicia felt the pain of her wounds as she writhed to free herself. Each fiber of wood tore at her flesh. She struggled nonetheless, although it felt as if it was ripping her apart.
A thug with a thick, black beard fell on her, driving a stake through her shoulder, pinning her to the ground. “How does that feel? Not so tough.”
Felicia tried to scream but felt her energy sap. Blood spread in a ring around her. She lay limp on the ground. Her body felt as if it was ready to shatter from all the wood now in her.
The man dropped his face next to her ear.
She blurted some words before he could speak, “Just do it.”
“Oh, we will. But not before we have a little fun first.” He gripped the stake in her shoulder and twisted.
Felicia gurgled a scream through the blood collecting in her throat and lungs. This was beyond what she could bear. Tears formed in her eyes. She had nothing left to fight back with. The wood in her wounds kept her immobile. To move was agony.
The man stood up and looked across her at another who took off a backpack, opened it and removed shiny jewelry. Each member of the gang took a piece. Necklaces, bracelets.
The bearded man dropped down to her level again. “Here, this would look lovely on you.” He placed a necklace around her neck.” It burned and seared. The smell of burnt flesh filled her nose. Silver. Felicia retreated in her mind. She had a place where she could go. She’d withstood torture and cruelty from men since she was just a small girl. She knew where to hide until it was over. She went there, for the last time.
Norman felt a tang in his neck as if something had stabbed him. A muscled spasm? No, he also felt rage and the fear. Felicia. She needed him.
He shot up from his chair in his office. More spasms. More fear. He needed to find her. He felt it more than knew it. He darted from his office.
“Mr. Bernard…” was all Ms. Sperry could say before he was out the door. An instant later, he stood on the steps of the school building looking in all directions, listening, feeling.
Another twitch of pain, this time in his shoulder. He grabbed it as if covering a wound of his own. In the distance, he heard her. A gurgling scream. Mortal terror.
The instant before he dashed off, the door opened behind him. He snapped his head around.
Declan emerged and stood next to him. His face was tight with pain. “It hurts. I feel her. She needs me.”
“Come,” said Norman and dashed through the streets with the boy.
Norman ran toward the sound. A whimper. A grunt. He felt the searing pain on his neck.
“Mr. Bernard,” shouted Declan from behind.
Norman slowed to a halt and listened.
Declan stopped as well. “Mr. Bernard.”
Norman put a finger to his lips.
He honed his hearing, listening. At first, nothing. Then, a few blocks into the buildings he heard sounds. Scuffling. Flesh on flesh. Wood snapping.
Norman rushed off toward the sounds. He hoped Declan followed but he didn’t turn to find out. Felicia’s fear had become his own. Losing her would be losing himself.
Norman rounded a corner as the sounds died. Blood pooled at the opening of an alley a block ahead. He sped to the spot and peered down the length of the dark alley. He could feel Felicia’s blood inside him. She still lived.
In the darkness, Felicia lay still, in a wet circle. He ran it to her, but stopped half way. Deeper in the alley there were others. One wore a sweat shirt with a hood over his head. He held another by the scruff of his shirt. The first man snapped his face toward Norman. The hood covered his features in darkness. He dropped the other man and leapt up to a fire escape, climbing to the roof and disappearing in almost an instant. Norman ran to Felicia and knelt, just as Declan reached the alley.
She was covered in thin silver chains. Her body was pierced with arrows and a stake through her shoulder. Her eyes stared out into nothing.
He grabbed a necklace that lay on her and yanked it off, hurling it aside. A wisp of smoke sizzled from his fingers. Norman winced and shoved the rest off as well. Then he yanked out the arrows with burnt hands. Felicia’s body twitched as each pulled free.
Declan knelt down as well gazing into her vacant eyes. These three were blood. The only family Norman had.
Norman gripped the stake in Felicia’s shoulder.
Declan looked up from his love. “No. Let me.”
Norman nodded.
Declan griped the wood and yanked.
Felicia gasped and came out of whatever place she’d just been within her mind. She looked up, moving her lips, but unable to produce words.
A moment later, her wounds began stitching themselves tighter. “I’m alive.”
Her words sounded like music. Their blood made them sing. Norman was glad she was still here on this earth to speak to them. He leaned over and placed his forehead against hers. His eyes swelled with water. “Hallelujah.”
“I tried. I tried to walk away. They wanted me.”
“I've got you. You're going to be okay.” Norman lifted her back off the ground and embraced her.
“We're lucky that guy showed up.”
“What guy?” said Declan.
Felicia came out of Norman’s hug. “Who?”
“The one in the hood.”
Felicia shook her head.
Norman twisted his neck around. Men lay strewn about the alley.
Things were getting out of hand.
10
Power Meeting
The only thing Skeete hated more than vampires was humans. So fucking precious. They died so easily though. Like insects.
“Right this way, Ms. Daniels,” said the neatly dressed page. She led Skeete down the tall ornate hall of the capital. Two men in suits stood with folded hands outside a door half-way down. The page stopped at the tall wooden door.
“The senator’s twelve o’clock.” She turned back to Skeete, flashing a smile and pushed the door open. Walsh sat at his desk reading a paper in his hands.
He looked up and removed his reading glasses.
“Your constituent is here for her meeting, sir,” said the page.
“I didn’t see this on the schedule,” replied Walsh.
The page looked between Skeete and Walsh.
“No
matter, come in please, Ms…?”
“Daniels, Skeete Daniels.” Skeete sat in the chair opposite the state senator as the door closed behind her.
“What can I do for you? I’m sorry I can’t spend too much time. Between this job and the campaign…”
Skeete stared into his eyes as his words trailed off. It would be so easy to just seduce his will, but not nearly as effective.
“You’re… You’re one of them.” He stood from his seat.
“My Secret Service. I could scream.”
“You’d be dead before you finished the first word.”
Walsh stood, paralyzed.
“Sit down, Senator. I come in peace.”
The senator eased back into his seat.
“Very good.”
“What do you want?” Walsh's back was stiff, as if he were still standing.
“To help you.”
“You can’t.”
“Sir. I can be just the ally you need at this moment.”
The senator leaned back, his spine finally relaxing. “Ally. Why would I need an ally? Especially a v…”
“Because you’re losing. You’re two points down.”
“Isn’t that what you want? You’re a vampire. Kramer’s your man.”
“It’s amazing how hard it is for someone as young as you to wrap your brain around anything more complex than a video game. I’m not just any vampire. I want what you want.”
“How do you know what I want?”
Skeete relaxed in her chair. A confident smile stretched across her face. This was going to be easier than she though. “You’re running for president, aren’t you? I can get you there.”
“I will not moderate my opinions about vampires, not personally, not publicly.”
“Senator, I couldn’t agree more. In fact, I think you have to stop being such a pussy. Kramer has taken on that mantle. Your vapid display of pseudo strength will be your undoing. Take a real stand against vampires.”
“Oh, I intend to after the election.”
