by D. J. Bodden
“Yes, sir. About two hundred Americans were attacked by the Mexican army. Outnumbered at least five to one, in spite of solid stone walls, they were overrun and killed to the last man.” He recalled the particulars effortlessly, like he was reading from a textbook. Becoming a vampire definitely had its benefits.
Mr. Edwards’ eyes widened a little. “That’s right, so remember, any defense can be overrun given enough time and resources. If you’re forced to defend something valuable, the key is to make it more trouble than it’s worth or, better yet, to disrupt the attack before it reaches the walls. A castle without defenders is just a man-made hill. Does that help?”
Jonas tried to hide his surprise. I need to make Sam a few friends. “Yes, sir, thank you, that helped a lot.”
♚
About halfway through lunch, Amelia sat down at his table and said, “Are we breaking up?”
“What? No… are we?” Jonas asked, the last part slipping out in a whisper. He looked around, and saw a table of Amelia’s friends nearby. They were glaring at him, pissed, like he’d been beating her instead of ignoring her phone calls.
“You ignored me all weekend,” she said.
“You told me not to call until I was ready to talk.”
“I didn’t mean…” She looked at the table. “I meant ‘call and talk,’ not ‘don’t call at all.’”
Jonas pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head, shutting his eyes. So much for being a mind-reading vampire, he thought. Looking back up, he said, “I’m sorry. There was the break-in, and I found out some new things about my dad…”
“What? That he was in the mob or something?”
Jonas winced. “More like law enforcement.”
Amelia leaned forward. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? I thought the whole break-in thing was just an excuse not to walk home with me anymore. That’s what we all thought.”
Jonas glanced up at Amelia’s friends. They were still glaring. “I am serious, and I really need you to not talk about it with… them.” He motioned toward the table of onlookers with his head.
Amelia blushed. “I’m sorry. I won’t tell anyone else. They only know about the supposed break-in. Is that okay?”
He looked at the table of angry teens. What are they going to do? he thought. “Yeah, it’s okay.” A moment of awkward silence followed, while Jonas figured out how to slip back into the role of teenage boyfriend.
“Um… so how did you do on the test?” he asked.
Amelia rolled her eyes. “We didn’t cover half the stuff on that test in class,” she said, then proceeded to explain how Monsieur Frederique should spend less time making snide remarks about Americans and more time on his curriculum. Jonas just listened, not saying a word. He loved the way she talked with her hands… the faint sheen of her lip gloss… the curve of her neck.
“Jonas? Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Of course. I guess we’ll just have to go off the textbook from now on. He doesn’t teach juniors, does he?”
Amelia nodded, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Listen, I need to go to the bookstore after school,” Jonas said, grinning. “Want to come with me?”
Amelia looked back at her friends. A blonde with sharp cheekbones and thin lips, mouthed something to her, as if Jonas wasn’t there. Amelia shook her head and turned back to Jonas.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
♚
“Those are the largest men I’ve ever seen,” Amelia whispered.
Bert and Phillip trailed behind them, thirty feet behind. Exactly thirty feet, even if they had to push people aside or ignore traffic signals. Jonas was starting to think the intimidation people felt around them was like a vampire’s glamour. The people in cars — several regular commuters and one taxi driver — didn’t even honk at the two werewolves when they strolled across the street against the light.
“They’re harmless, really,” Jonas whispered.
Bert snorted.
“He heard that?”
Jonas looked back over his shoulder. “My, what big ears you have, Grandma.”
Bert guffawed, and Phillip punched him in the shoulder.
The two werewolves followed Jonas and Amelia into the bookstore and browsed through the aisles, which were almost too narrow for them to share with others. Phillip went to the self-help section. Bert went to the aisle on pets, wagging his eyebrows at Jonas, before moving on to the exercise and sports section.
“You’re sure your dad wasn’t in the mob?” Amelia whispered.
“Positive. They’re just here until we’re sure that the guy who broke in won’t come back.”
Jonas went to the military history section, while Amelia wandered the young adult fiction aisle. He thought about going to the spirituality section and looking up angels, demons, and other supernaturals, but figured the Agency’s library would have better material. Plus, he’d have a hard time explaining a sudden interest in the occult to his girlfriend.
He met Amelia in the coffee shop a few minutes later.
“What’d you get?” she said.
He showed her the cover. “Fortifications and Siegecraft.” Before she could ask, he added, “Extra credit from Mr. Edwards.”
She frowned. “I didn’t hear him say we could do anything for extra credit.”
“He hasn’t. Yet.” Jonas grinned. “Trying to improve my grade.”
They sat at a small table and read their books. Jonas drank water, while Amelia sipped something frothy that smelled like coffee and chocolate. After about half an hour Jonas knew a lot more about obstacles and protection and, from Amelia’s sudden interest in her phone, that his girlfriend was bored.
“Ready to walk home?”
“Yeah. My dad’s asking where I am,” she said.
He finished his water, stuffed the book into his backpack, and caught Phillip’s eye. They almost made it to Amelia’s apartment before the attack came.
CHAPTER 10
“Jonas? Are you okay?”
He heard Amelia’s voice, faintly, as he took a knee to try to control the wave of dizziness and nausea that suddenly came over him. On an almost subconscious level, he realized that Bert and Phillip had bulldozed their way through the crowd and were speaking. “What’s wrong, kid? Where is it—?”
♚
Jonas was in the dark place again, or rather, someone had planted the thought in his head. He could feel it pushing through his outer barrier, like a pipeline of images and emotions. Irritation and impatience surrounded the thoughts, driving them deep into his mind.
He reached into the flow, forcing a thought, Who are you? into it.
Madoc, came the answer. Then Jonas felt something grab him and drag him into the stream.
His father was running from something unseen, flowing from shadow to shadow. I have to ask Eve or Viviane how to do that, he thought. He followed his dad, like before, from room to room. There were werewolves, vampires, zombies, and other things he didn’t recognize lurking in each of them. He understood some of it, now, but not enough.
His father scrambled to the top of the last flight of stairs, down a short passageway, and into the room with the locked door. No one’s chasing him, Jonas thought. Someone must have breached his barriers and driven him here. The monsters — supernaturals — had merely watched him flee. Some of them seemed confused, others chuckled. Then the door flew open and Fangston appeared in the doorway, framed in sunlight, while Jonas’ father backed away in terror. He was afraid of the light, afraid of burning up… poof, like flash paper.
The problem Jonas had with the scenario playing out in his head, was that Fangston couldn’t tolerate sunlight either. He’d had to wait until full-dark to come to Jonas’ apartment… plus, he was Victor’s friend. Madoc was the name Jonas had heard in Fangston’s mind, the one that’d made him so angry he’d used his full power to rip the thoughts from Jonas’ head. Madoc probably took my father, Jonas thought. And Madoc sent the man who t
rashed our apartment. He remembered seeing his mother thrown across the room while he just stood there. Helpless, he thought, as feelings of hate and self-loathing welled up inside him all over again.
Suddenly, the floor and walls of the dream world trembled. He remembered Mr. Edwards saying that the best way to defend something was to attack, so he harnessed his anger and rode it upstream against the encroaching mind, driving it beyond his outer walls and hunting for its source. He could sense Sam, shoring up the breach behind him, and as he moved beyond himself into Madoc, a flurry of images passed before his eyes. He saw his own mother, Alice, dark eyes staring mercilessly through the visor of a black helm, someone’s breath fogging the air in front of him, then blood pooling on fitted stones.
What the heck? Jonas thought.
Panic and pain pulsed through the conduit. The connection was severed.
♚
“—coming from?” Bert said.
Jonas caught himself with his hands to keep from pitching forward on his face. “That way,” he said, pointing in the direction the conduit had led. He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just felt it.
“Go,” Phillip said, and Bert tore off across the street, dodging traffic and jumping over the hood of a car. “Are you okay, Jonas?”
“I’m fine.”
Amelia stared at them. “What just happened?” She leaned away from him like he was a dog that, any moment, might decide to bite.
“Nothing. I just… stumbled.”
“Right.” She looked at Phillip. “Your friend moves very quickly for someone his size. Especially when nothing happened.”
Phillip shrugged. “Chasing cars is kind of a bad habit for Bert.”
Jonas laughed, even though he was on the edge of tears. I hope Bert rips Madoc in half, he thought. Then he took Phillip’s hand, letting the big man pull him to his feet, and they walked Amelia the rest of the way to her apartment.
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?” Amelia said.
Jonas looked at Phillip, but he just shrugged. Not my problem, the gesture told him.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I want to, I just can’t. Not yet.” Then a thought hit him. Last time, they went for my mother after mentally attacking me. “I have to get home!”
He left Amelia on the steps of her apartment without saying another word and ran the entire way home. Frantically, he tapped the elevator button until the doors slid shut, while strengthening his barriers and getting ready for a fight. Phillip had kept up with him easily. “Your mother?” he said.
“Yes,” Jonas replied, silently cursing himself. “I should’ve sent you ahead.”
Phillip shook his head. “We have people watching the apartment and, besides, I wouldn’t have left you to get snatched off the street.”
Jonas looked at Phillip incredulously. What am I going to do if she’s gone? What good is being safe then?
As soon as the elevator doors opened enough to squeeze through, Jonas tore down the hallway to his apartment. He froze on the welcome mat. The door was partially open, and there was blood on the handle.
CHAPTER 11
“Mom?” Jonas called out, nudging the door with his foot. He could hear water running and was about to poke his head inside, when Phillip barged in. As the door swung fully open, Jonas could see his mother standing in the kitchen, scrubbing her hands in the sink.
“Everything’s fine, Phillip,” she said, without looking up. I’ll have Jonas clean the door in a minute.”
“Yes, Mrs. Black,” Phillip said, backing down.
“Come in, Jonas, and sit down,” she said, blotting her hands and forearms dry with paper towels. There was a bloody pile of them next to the sink.
“Mom, what—”
“Shut the door, please, Jonas, and sit down. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Jonas closed the door, checked the curtains out of habit, and sat at the table. His mother pushed the handle on the faucet down awkwardly, using her wrist instead of gripping it, and sat at the table with him.
She looked like she’d been skinned alive. Jonas couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. Muscle was showing in various places, and blood seeped from her face and arms, dripping onto the wooden table. Her eyes were solid crimson, with no pupils or whites. He felt sick.
“Don’t be squeamish, Jonas. You’re not going to last long as a vampire if you get upset at the sight of blood.”
Jonas swallowed.
“Now, I’m in a considerable amount of pain, and I’m also blind — temporarily. I’d like to avoid damaging the apartment again so soon after the last time.” She paused.
“Okay,” he said, trying to keep the horror from his face. “What do you need me to do?”
“Good. Now, go to my room and pull a blood pack out of the fridge. Get yourself one, too, if you need it. Your pulse is racing, and your barrier is weaker than it should be.”
Jonas consciously strengthened his outer wall. “I don’t—” he’d started to say he didn’t need one, but realized he was thirsty, the same way he’d been the night before.
“We’ll discuss why you need one when you get back,” she said, her voice calm, but edgy.
He hurried to her room and reached for the doorknob, then hesitated at the realization that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in his parents’ room. During his childhood, he’d never slept in their room, even if something scared him; they’d always calmed him, and put him back in his own bed to sleep. After his father disappeared, the room became a sort of fortress for his mother. He didn’t bother her while she was there, and he had no reason to go in when she wasn’t. Not sure what to expect, he turned the knob and entered.
It looked like a room he’d seen in a home decoration magazine at the dentist’s office. Everything was clean, neatly put away, and color coordinated. The bed was perfectly made up, pillows positioned symmetrically and plumped. Even the wood floor looked as if it had just been varnished and swept. He opened the mini-fridge and saw the blood packs, arranged neatly like a shop display. This is the room of a woman who can talk calmly while her skin bleeds and worry about getting blood on the furniture, he thought, unsure whether he should be impressed or scared. He grabbed two of the aluminum packets, being careful not to move the others, and headed back to the living room.
“Here, Mom,” he said, holding out one of the pouches.
“Would you mind…” she raised her blood-slicked hands. They were shaking slightly and curled into claws.
“Yeah, sorry.” He pulled the tab and poked the straw into it. “Do you want me to—?”
“You can just put it in front of me.”
He stood the packet up in front of her and returned to his chair. She leaned forward and sipped from it. Jonas meant to sip on his also, but before he knew it, he was holding an empty packet. “Damn.”
“Watch your language, please.”
“Sorry, mom,” he said, staring down at the empty packet. He’d only meant to take a small sip. Going to have to be careful around Amelia if I ever grow fangs. Disturbingly, the thought of biting Amelia made him salivate. It was like lust, hunger, and thirst all mixed together. Eve had mentioned some of the older vampires would only drink directly from humans. He wondered if it was better than the bagged blood.
He shook his head and tried to stay focused on the bleeding woman across from him. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”
“This is what a few minutes of sunlight does to me,” she said. “But you go first. You were late and needed blood, so…”
Jonas felt his chest tighten. He hadn’t told his mother he’d be late because she usually wasn’t up during the day. “You didn’t do this to yourself while out looking for me, did you?”
“No,” she said, then looked at the floor and sighed. “Not exactly. You didn’t come home, and I needed to be sure.”
Jonas felt his mouth go dry. “To be sure of what, Mom?”
“That this was real. All of this,” s
he said, making a sweeping motion with her arm. “The apartment, the city… the sun.”
Jonas frowned. “What do you mean, ‘That this was real’? Are you… is that normal?”
Alice dabbed at a few drops of blood on the table. “You’ll understand, one day. We all go through it. I’m considered quite stable for my age.”
Jonas sat back in his chair, stunned at the scale of the statement. “And now you’re convinced?”
“Of course,” she said, wryly. “The sun is at least as real as I am.” She spoke lightly, as if telling a funny story.
“You could have died!” Jonas said.
“I had to know, Jonas.” She looked right at him, her voice level. “I’m not depressed, or crazy. I just… I had to know.” Her façade cracked a little and, for a brief moment, she looked haggard and tired. “No one saw me except Phillip, and he won’t talk.”
“Why does that matter?” Jonas asked, surprised she would care about such a small thing when she’d nearly burned all the skin off her body.
“I may have been weakened, Jonas, but my name still carries weight among our kind. Bad things happen out in New Orleans and Portland that don’t happen here. My name — our name, Jonas — keeps the peace. There are still those who think this is all just an act, an elaborate trap to draw my enemies out into the open so I can crush them.”
“Is it? A trap, I mean. Did you really lose your powers?” He wasn’t sure where the question came from but, he knew one thing for certain: Bert and Phillip were still very afraid of Alice Black.
She smiled. “Thank you, Jonas. You’re going to make a wonderful vampire, someday.”
Jonas blushed at the compliment, then realized she hadn’t answered his question. Maybe that meant she could do more than she’d let on. Then again, maybe she was teaching him something, the same way Viviane had with her illusions. Always seem more capable than you are. He wasn’t sure if he agreed. In his recent experience, seeming dangerous and powerful could attract more trouble than a teenage boy was equipped to handle.
“Now, what happened to you?” she asked, as if everything was completely normal.
