by Alex Dire
The door swung open. Skeete strode in dressed in full political battle gear: grey power suit, tight white bun on top of her head, glasses.
“Glad to hear it.” The smell of dog wafted in with her.
Norman shot up from his seat. Reflex forced his fangs to flick out with a hiss.
Rae stood. “Easy. Calm. This is not the time.”
Norman closed his mouth and relaxed his fighting posture.
“She’s a smart one,” said Skeete. “You look familiar.”
“We’ve met,” said Rae.
“So hard to keep track of Norman's lackies.”
“What do you want, Skeete,” said Norman. She had no power over Norman any more. Even her wolf allies couldn't help her now.
“Norman, am I really that hard to read?”
No, she wasn’t. “I’m going to give my speech. You can’t stop me.”
Skeete raised an eyebrow at the challenge. She flicked her fangs out. “Is that where we’re going with this?”
“You know I can end you.” Norman displayed his fangs once again. He longed to destroy her once and for all.
Rae placed a hand on Norman’s shoulder. “She’s right. A fight here…now. The press is right out there. It wouldn’t matter how many speeches you gave after that. Vampires tearing up the press room?”
Skeete retracted her fangs. “See? Smart.”
Norman closed his mouth, concealing his teeth once again. He looked to Rae. “I’m ready.”
“Not just yet,” said Skeete. “Not till I’ve said my piece.”
“Nothing you can say could possibly get me to change my mind about that bill.”
Skeete smiled wide. Her smug face made Norman want to punch it. He’d knock those fangs right in. “I have one of your nymphs.”
A wave of fear surged through Norman. “Declan. I know.” Doubt crept into Norman's mind once again. The thought of one of his students in pain. In peril. He'd never given up on a student before, but all vampires were at risk now. Only Norman could avert disaster.
“You’re pretty smart yourself,” said Skeete. Then her mock jovial face dropped. Her eyes became slits as did her mouth. “Pass the bill, or he dies.”
Norman had come so far. From teacher of the forgotten to President of the United States. He had this one chance to change things…for people and vampires. He could make a new world. But not if he always caved in to creatures like Skeete. Even if he killed Skeete right now, another miserable self-serving wretch would turn up sooner or later. Norman was now the number one target for such scum. He had power and the evil things of the earth would want to exploit that.
“Norman,” said Rae.
He snapped back to the moment. He stared into Skeete’s eyes. If his gaze could have drilled a hole in her head, it would have. He cursed her for forcing this choice on him.
Norman let himself breathe. His anger drained out with each hot breath. He straightened his back. Norman Bernard was the leader of the free world. It was time he acted it. “So be it.” The words stabbed at his heart like wood. This was all wrong. He was a teacher, not a president.
Rae shot a smug look at Skeete.
For once, Norman would do his duty, no matter the personal cost.
Skeete’s face did not register her defeat. A tiny smile crept up her lips. “Did you hear that?” she said over her shoulder.
The cracked door pushed open. Declan walked in, escorted by two werewolves. His gaze was fixed to the ground.
“I told you. I told you he’d betray you,” said Skeete.
Norman lurched forward to embrace the boy, but stopped mid-stride.
Declan raised he head. His eyes were red with grief.
“Felicia,” said Norman. Dear god, not Felicia, his own blood. He already knew he'd never forgive himself for his decision to sacrifice Declan. But this was too much.
Declan lowered his glance back to the ground.
“Very good, Norman. I see you’ve sized up the situation without me having to explain it to you. You know, for a teacher you can certainly be thick sometimes.”
Norman slowly sat back in his seat. He felt Felicia. He knew it was true. Her emotions were always so hot. He felt it now. Fear. Rage.
Norman’s own feelings mixed with hers. He vacillated between despair and anger. One instant he wanted to leap across his desk and tear Skeete’s throat out, the next he wished he could melt into the ground. He thought he’d been ready to let go of his nymphs. But Felicia? He could never let her go. She was part of him. He could hear her, feel her. He could never imagine those feelings going silent.
“Cancel the speech.” Norman’s words carried no tone, no inflection. They were dead.
“Wait. Norman. No,” said Rae.
“Oh, Norman. Don’t be so hasty. Why squander such an occasion. It’s not every day the whole country tunes in to hear a vampire,” said Skeete.
Norman wished she would just leave. Wasn’t it enough he was going to allow her damned bill to pass?
“Give your speech,” said Skeete. “Give your speech in support of my bill.”
This was too much.
“Don’t you think that’s the best way forward? Eh, Declan?”
Declan. Felicia. The rest were probably involved too. His loyalty to them made him want to just slink away, and take them someplace to hide. His responsibilities pulled him toward the lectern out there, where the world waited on his words. Words that, if Skeete got her way, would mean the end of his kind. His mind bounced between the two poles. He couldn’t betray Felicia. He couldn’t betray all vampires.
“Rae.” Norman stiffened. “Make an announcement.”
Skeete cocked her head.
“Delay the press conference. Reschedule it for tomorrow. Same time. I need to think,” said Norman.
“Not good enough,” said Skeete.
Her voice washed over him like a wave of rage. He shot up from his chair, erect. “You’ll wait, damn it. Because you don’t have a choice. You need me to get your bill passed. If I oppose it, you lose. So you’ll wait another day for my speech.”
Skeete relaxed, and her smile returned. Why did she always have that damned smile on her face?
“I think our business is done.” Skeete turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh. I almost forgot. One more little thing.”
Norman lifted his head to meet her eyes. Now what?
“Felicia mentioned that you have a very interesting map.” She smiled, hesitating, as if she'd asked a question and waited for an answer. Then her eyes grew dark and her whole face seemed to frown. “I want it.”
“Wait, what?” Norman looked at Rae. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Bring it to me within twenty-four hours or they all die. Speech or no.” She stared hard at Norman, her face a cyclone of wrath.
Then the storm broke, and her smile returned. She spun to the door. On her way out, she stroked Declan’s hair. “I enjoyed our time together. Feel free to visit.” She flicked her eyes to Norman. “I’ll be watching.” The next moment she was gone in a blur.
Silence remained, and Norman welcomed it. Time to think about the labyrinth of choices he faced.
“It’s my fault,” said Declan. His voice wavered.
The sound of a child in need broke through Norman’s loop of concentration. He rose and approached Declan, reaching out his arms. “No.”
“I’m so stupid!”
“No, Declan. It’s not you.”
Declan looked up from the floor his lips tight and trembling. “It is me! And you… Skeete told me you’d let her die. You’d let us all die.”
Norman wanted to embrace him, but he could feel Declan’s anger pushing him away.
“You were going to let me die.”
Norman didn’t know what to say to that. Declan was right. Norman’s mind spun. His whole species depended on his public actions. His nymphs did as well. What could he say to this boy? This boy who, moments ago, he was willing to let die. He couldn’t believe he’d come to th
at decision. It was wrong. This was all wrong.
“I’m sorry.” Norman’s voice quivered with shame.
“I need to get her.” Declan lifted his head, face tight with resolve.
The door swung open again. An aide entered. “It’s time, Mr. President.”
Norman nodded to Rae.
“Are you sure?” said Rae. “You may not get another chance at this.”
Norman knew it was true. The political iron was hot. It may not remain so, for even a day. Norman despised that bill. He knew his obligations were larger than his nymphs. But Felicia. He could feel her heart tugging at him like a rope. He nodded again.
Rae turned to the man at the door. “Mr. Roberts. The President—”
“I’m delaying my address to the media.”
“Um. Should I…?” said Roberts.
Rae stood. “It’s okay, Stan. I’ve got it.” She looked once again at Norman and left the room with quick staccato steps.
“What am I going to do?” said Declan.
Norman took him into his arms. “I don’t know, son.”
35
Substitute
Norman sat alone in the oval office. A single desk lamp lit the place. He’d insisted on no interruptions. Despite all the quiet, his brain rang with overlapping words and contradicting conclusions. He’d give his speech the next day if he couldn’t sort it out. Skeete would probably kill Felicia anyway. Even if she didn’t, registration spelled doom for all of them. In his best case, then, he could only delay their demise.
He rested his elbows on the desk and dropped his head into his hands. Staring down, the numbers on the desk calendar filled his vision. A mechanical pencil lay there along with a stack of Post-it notes, and his phone. He picked up the phone and flicked it to life. The bright home screen displayed a picture of himself and his Nymphs. They were all there. Felicia, Cindy, Declan, Tyreese, Darius. Even Keon. Norman’s greatest failure…so far. Someone was missing. Matt. Matt was seldom around anymore. He had more mysterious responsibilities now.
Matt. Norman tapped his phone app and scrolled down to his former student’s name. He selected it.
After a few rings, Matt’s voice cracked through the speaker. “Mr. Bernard!”
“Sorry to wake you.”
“Um…okay”
“I need your help.”
Matt coughed and more of his voice returned. “Okay. What’s up?”
“I need to know Nebulous’ plans.”
“Oh…well… That’s not really how it works.”
“What do you mean?”
“They do their thing when they need to.”
“They need to. Now.”
“They don’t really take requests.”
“Why do you keep calling them ‘they?’ You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I guess. It's not like we have meetings or anything. I don't even see Elijah anymore. He's moved on. He said I probably wouldn't see him again."
A distributed network. It made sense in a way. You couldn’t decapitate something that doesn’t have a head.
“I need to know your plan for this Vampire Registration Bill. I know your people nudge things along when they’ve gone awry. Well, they’ve gone seriously awry. I’m out of ideas here. In less than a day, I’m going to give a speech supporting the Vampire Registration Bill.”
Long seconds passed with no response. “I need to know what your plan is,” said Norman.
“Mr. Bernard, you’re the plan. That’s why you’re there.”
Norman was afraid of that.
“You’re the one who has to stop that bill.”
Norman wished there was someone higher up who could manage this. But the president was as high as you can go. “I can’t do it.”
“Mr. Bernard.” A shuffling sound came through the phone, then a tap. Then silence. Subtle footsteps came over the receiver. More shuffling. “Wait. I’m putting you on hold.”
Norman could wait. He'd wait all the way up to the second before his press conference the next evening. He'd scheduled it late. Nine PM. He'd wait until 8:59 if it left him with choices. What was Matt scheming? The cards he and his group had up their sleeves were so varied. Norman doubted he'd be surprised by what came out.
“Mr. Bernard, are you still there?” said Matt.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Just wait. We’re sending someone in.”
“Who?”
“A friend.” The phone clicked.
Norman placed his phone down on his desk. He wondered what friend could help him out of this.
The land line beeped on his desk and a button blinked. He pressed it. “Yes?”
“We’ve got a request for an appointment,” said a voice.
Wow. They worked fast. “When?”
“In twenty minutes.”
“With who?”
“A Mr. Blake Palleuchetti.”
A friend indeed.
A page escorted Blake into the oval office. The old gym teacher extended a hand in formal greeting. Norman reached out his arms and grasped the man in an embrace. Blake returned the gesture.
“I’ll leave you to your meeting, Mr. President,” said the page.
The hug lasted for long seconds. Norman’s body felt lighter and his muscles let go of their tensions. He hadn’t realized they’d been in a state of constant flex. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you,” said Norman, releasing Blake.
“It’s good to see you, too, old friend.”
Norman liked that Blake didn’t call him ‘Mr. President.’ It made it feel like home.
Blake looked around the oval office. “You’ve really taken it up a notch?”
“Please don’t congratulate me.”
“I was going to offer my condolences.” The two laughed.
“Please,” said Norman. “Sit.” He waved his arm toward a plush sofa across the room from his desk. They sat at opposite ends. “So, what’s in store for today? Meditation? Yoga?”
Blake only responded with his mild smile, light brown eyes and relaxed face. This expression always calmed Norman back at Night School. Blake had this ability to transfer peace with just his face and a few words. Finally, he broke his silence. “I heard you needed some help. That your worries were bringing you down.”
A crimping pain in Norman’s neck marked the return of those worries. This was not a social visit. “Who contacted you? How are you involved with Nebulous?”
Blake replied again only with his soft smile and warm eyes.
“I’m asking because—”
“Those are not the answers you seek, friend.”
Norman banished his curiosity. Maybe it was not for him to know. “You’re right.”
“Tell me,” said Blake.
“My Nymphs are in trouble. My whole kind is in trouble. I can’t seem to find the right path forward. If I give the speech in support of the bill, it’s only a matter of time before we’re all registered. If I don’t then Felicia…”
“No,” said Blake. “Tell me who you are?”
Norman blinked. Where was he going with this? “I’m the President of the United States.”
Blake tipped his head slightly and his smile broadened. “No. Tell me who you are.”
Norman stared at Blake. There was more to this question. He didn’t have the luxury of time for such puzzles. He needed more than just a little perspective and relaxation techniques. This wasn’t a ‘find yourself in the mirror’ kind of moment. Norman wished Nebulous sent some kind of army rather than this… “I need help, Blake. I need to find a way out of this. I know who I am.”
“Then tell me,” said Blake.
Norman’s pulse increased. If this was the best that Nebulous could do, then he was sunk. He was done wasting time. He flicked his canines out. “I’m a god damned vampire!”
Blake’s smile faded and his eyes grew serious. “No, Norman. Tell me who you are.”
The hairs on Norman’s arms pricked up. He felt surrounded b
y an electricity. The lines in the room went soft. Norman stared into Blake’s eyes.
Tell me who you are. Blake’s lips didn’t move.
How was he doing this? Was Blake glamoring him? Not possible. There was no way he was a vampire. Norman felt himself sink. Images from his past flashed through his brain. His time with Ian in the sewers. The moment he convinced Ian’s survivors to join and fight. A blur through his classroom. A thousand students and the words of Shakespeare. Back further. The pictures accelerated. Norman felt the feelings of each moment pump through him. Then the swirl of images stopped.
He was in his tiny one-room schoolhouse. Norman remembered this day well. He read out loud to his dirty-faced students who varied greatly in age. He anticipated the knock that would come. Norman looked up from his text at the faces. The children read along with him. One lifted her head and met his glance. Her eyes were a warm light brown.
Then he was standing in the Oval Office staring at the eyes of his friend, Blake Paleuccetti. “What the hell are you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I am. Tell me, Norman. Who are you?”
Norman understood now. He had known this all along, ever since Skeete first showed up and he’d been dragged into this vampire war. The deeper he got in, the more he felt pulled back.
“I am a teacher.”
Blake nodded. He turned and opened the door.
“Wait, Blake.”
Blake turned back.
“One moment.” Norman picked up the phone. “Hello. Please Summon Chief Justice Reinhold. And please get me General Sykes.”
Norman covered the handset and looked at Blake "I have a favor to ask."
“Anything, my friend,” said Blake.
36
Prisoner Exchange
Norman’s frantic sprint ended. He stood before the brambles that led to the wolf circle. Skeete waited for him.
Norman breathed fast. He held up his fist which contained an old parchment rolled into a scroll. “I’ve got what you want.”
“That was quick,” replied Skeete. “I have to admit, I thought that relic was destroyed centuries ago, along with the wretched race that created it. How you came upon it, I can only imagine. If only I'd known, it would have saved me a lot of trouble.” She stepped forward and reached a hand.
