Obviously they wouldn’t assign me to Enforcement—I wasn’t much for kicking ass, at least not with my muscles, which still ached from my final physical assessment test.
The Anonymity Division? Possibly, given my con artist expertise in forgeries. Maybe I’d get a job creating and arranging new identities for aging vampires.
My fiercest wish was to work for the Contemporary Awareness Division. Predominantly an internal branch, CAD had been created to counteract temporal adhesion, the tendency of vampires to remain stuck in the eras in which they were turned. CAD taught vampire Control agents how to live in the present—how to speak, dress, and act like twenty-first-century humans. Every Control vamp was required to report for regular CAD sessions and attend an annual two-week cultural immersion seminar.
I was musing on how I could wrangle funds to share CAD resources with non-Control vamps, when Colonel Lanham entered.
Instinctively I stood at attention, though as a contractor I didn’t have to observe military customs and courtesies. Lanham exuded a mixture of hard-ass authority and cool competence that even I had to respect.
He was still wearing the ceremonial dress blacks from our graduation ceremony, a double-breasted uniform with a column of brilliant brass buttons. An array of medals on his chest reflected the recessed ceiling lights, as did his closely shaven head.
He nodded as he strode behind the desk. “Ms. Griffin.”
“Sir.” I sat when he did, resisting the urge to clear my throat.
He set down a hard black leather briefcase. “Congratulations on completing Indoc.”
I grimaced at the official name for the Control’s orientation program: Indoc, short for Indoctrination. “Thank you, sir.”
His thumbs flashed over the combination locks, then snapped them open simultaneously. “My apologies for the delay.” He pulled out a multicolored stack of file folders. “I needed one last high-level signature for your assignment. I think you’ll agree this is worth the wait.”
Lanham extracted a thick indigo file—the only one of its hue. He returned the other files to his briefcase, which he snapped shut and locked. Despite the efficiency of his movements, the colonel seemed to be dragging out the moment to torture me.
“The Immanence Corps is an elite special operations force within the Control.” Lanham rested his hands atop the file. “Its composition is roughly half vampire, half human, but every IC human possesses paranormal abilities.”
My heart slammed my breastbone. “What exactly is an ‘immanence’?”
“The word has a variety of meanings. Theologically, it signifies the divine presence in our world. Among pagans, it refers to an event that occurs in the mind.” His steel blue eyes studied my face, as though he were expecting a reaction. “But by its purest definition, it means ‘inherent.’ IC agents are born with their powers.”
“I don’t have any powers. I just have funky blood.”
“We both know it’s more than that.” Lanham tapped his pen against his briefcase. “Though we’re a secular agency, many of our weapons depend upon the faith of those who wield them. Others, such as holy water, are intrinsically powerful.”
“And those are the ones I can neutralize.”
He gave an almost imperceptible nod. “The Control would like to know which principle applies to the abilities of IC agents.”
“That makes sense.”
We sat there for a few moments, blinking at each other, before I grasped the connection. “Wait, wait, wait. You want to use me to experiment on my fellow agents? What am I, a chemical in a test tube?”
He shook his head calmly. “I assure you—“
“It’s not enough just to study my blood. Now you want to throw me into a pool of alleged paranormals and see if I neutralize them just by hanging out?” I fought to keep the anger out of my voice. “When you recruited me, you said you wanted my brains and talent. But you just want to study my freakiness.”
Lanham’s face remained impassive. “You have a unique quality. You should share it with those who can best help you deploy it.”
My spine chilled at the word “share.” “If I join the Immanence Corps, I’ll have to tell my colleagues why I’m qualified.” I could see us all sitting in a circle on Day One: Hi, my name is Ciara, and my magic is really anti-magic. Please don’t bite and/or kill me.
“Not to worry.” Lanham leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands. “Immanence agents maintain absolute secrecy regarding one another’s powers. You’re not the only one whose abilities could be used for nefarious purposes by vampires or humans.”
“Do I have a choice in assignment?”
“There’s always a choice. But not if you want to maintain our agreement.”
Two and a half years ago I’d signed a contract to join the Control after I finished college. In return, the agency would allow Shane to maintain contact with his human mom and sister in Ohio.
“So I join the Immanence Corps or you cut Shane off from his family.”
Lanham tilted his chin down. “And since his family knows where to find him, the only option would be relocation.”
My chest tightened. “You’d make him move? Away from me? Away from the job that saved his life?”
“I’m afraid we’d have no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.” I repeated his words as a wave of heat rose from my neck. “You choose coercion.”
“As a last resort.” His fingers tapped the ends of the chair arms. “After we attempt cooperation.”
“Your cooperation is coercion.”
“Listen!” The colonel lunged forward to loom over me. “I’ve bent over so far backward for you, I could kick myself in the forehead.” Fingers near my face, he counted off. “One measly year of obligation, no travel, no boot camp, and a starting salary thirty percent higher than average. So stop your bitching, or your boyfriend will find himself in Nome, Alaska, just in time for a long summer of midnight suns.”
My mouth creaked open. I’d never seen Lanham’s cool turn hot. Clearly he’d been saving it for this moment.
“Sign here.” He shoved an embossed indigo binder across the desk and slapped it open to reveal a letter of appointment to the Immanence Corps.
I took it. I read it. I signed it.
Only one other car remained in the visitors’ parking lot when I left. Colonel Lanham had made me his last assignment, probably because he knew I’d cause the biggest headache.
A woman with a dark ponytail sat behind the wheel of a silver BMW. Her face was in her hands, and her shoulders shook in a total bodyquake.
Tina.
I schlepped my bags over to her car and knocked on the window. She jumped, startled, and in the next moment a stake was pointed at me through the glass. Not exactly terrifying, but I admired her reflexes.
Tina grimaced and rolled down her window.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“They gave me Enforcement!” She shook a red binder at me and let loose another flood of tears.
“But that’s great, isn’t it? You’re perfect for that.” I hoped they could train some restraint into her.
“I wanted to be Immanence!” She wiped away a nostril bubble. “My mom and dad’ll be so embarrassed.”
“Maybe you can transfer later.”
“It’s no use. The Control can’t see my magic, no matter how hard I try.” She rummaged through her bag. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am mundane.”
“No, I’m sure you’ve got… something.” I winced at the weakness of my reassurance.
“Don’t patronize me.” She dug harder in her purse.
I realized what she was looking for. I opened my messenger bag and reached into the inside pocket for my travel pack of tissues.
“Here.” I held out the tissues. Her eyes went wide with horror.
She pointed at my bag and whispered. “You… of all people.”
I looked down to see the edge of the indigo binder peeking from my bag.
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“You don’t even believe!” she said.
I stepped back, in case she decided to take out her rage on my face. “You think I’m happy? I had no more choice than you did. I tried to get out of it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a paranormal ability?”
“Because it’s a secret.” I fumbled for a way to explain. “They’ve never made a TV show out of what I can do.”
“Coward! How can you be so selfish? You were created special. The least you can do is use your God-given talents to help people.”
Tina turned the key in her ignition. The engine screeched, having already been idling.
“Damn it!” she shrieked. As she drove away, she pounded her steering wheel with both fists.
I felt sorry for any vampire on the eventual receiving end of Tina’s rage, but mostly I felt sorry for Tina.
As I walked to my car, I thought of my own parents—the woman who gave birth to me, as well as my father and the lady I thought of as my real mom. I wondered what they’d imagined their little girl would become. A ballerina? A business owner? A bullshit artist like them?
Living “in sin” with a vampire boyfriend and joining a paranormal paramilitary organization probably didn’t make their wish list. But at least they’d let me have my own dreams. Tina could only dream of having her own dreams.
I watched her car disappear between the ivy-draped wire gates. “Good luck,” I whispered.
4
How Many More Years
Night had fallen when I arrived at my apartment in downtown Sherwood. Since it was a holiday, the small town’s historic district was nearly empty, so I found a parking spot in front of my building.
The place I’d shared with Shane for more than two years was a three-bedroom furnished basement apartment beneath a law office. It was more room than we needed, but it had two nonnegotiable features: it allowed pets, and it was dark.
Even indirect sunlight could burn a vampire’s body, which was why they went underground at “civilian twilight”—roughly half an hour before sunrise and after sunset—when the sun was safely below the horizon. Not even my blood could heal a sunlight burn, since flashing out of existence in a burst of flames is an irreversible process.
I lugged my bags down the outside entry stairs, leaning against the wrought iron railing to keep my balance. The door jerked open.
“Ciara!”
Lori threw a strangling hug around my neck, yanking me close to her petite frame. The warm smell of cinnamon wafted out of the apartment.
Dexter shoved past her to circle my legs, panting and woofing. I grabbed his collar before he could run into the street. Despite his steady diet of doggie blood-bank leftovers, his instincts told him to hunt fresh pooches, such as the neighbor’s shih tzu.
“I’ve been going crazy without you.” Lori shut the door behind us and followed me into my living room.
“Something new with the wedding?” I asked as I slumped my exhausted body onto the sofa. Lori and I had been talking on the phone every night, and she’d kept me apprised of every detail, right down to the “Love Rocks” wedding favor boxes.
“David wants to elope.”
I tried to ask “Why?” but Dexter had crawled all one hundred twenty pounds of undead beast into my lap. It gave me time to wonder if this was part of David’s plan for Honeymoon Part Two—after a week in the Bahamas, he was surprising Lori with five days in Greece instead of coming home. He hadn’t mentioned an elopement threat to me.
Lori explained. “He’s afraid one of my relatives will find out the DJs are really vampires.”
I held Dexter’s big black square head and ruffled the short fur and baggy jowls. “David’s spent his whole life in secret situations.” David and his father had both been Control agents, and even after David’s discharge, he had formed a vampire radio station with his ex-fiancee, Elizabeth Vasser. “Privacy is very important to him.” I tilted up my face so Dexter could lick my chin instead of my mouth. “Yesh, it is,” I added in a baby talk tone to the dog.
“I offered a compromise.” Lori sat in Shane’s favorite tattered green armchair, curling her legs under her. “I said we could just not invite the DJs.”
I gaped at her over Dexter’s head.
She bit her lip. “David gave me that same look. Shane can still come, since he’s the best man. Besides, he’s so young, it’s easy for him to pass.”
“Lori, the DJs are David’s only friends, besides you and me.”
“I know.” She twisted a long lock of white-blond hair around her finger. “If they don’t come, his side of the aisle will be almost empty.”
“Besides, you can’t change the guest list less than two weeks before the wedding. It’s a rule.” At least, I thought it was. “Stop stressing. Weddings are never as bad as the bride expects.”
“How would you know? You’ve never even been to a wedding.”
True. One of the side effects of living as a con artist and then a vampire wrangler was that I had few normal friends who did normal things like get married, or work during the day.
“But I’ve read all about them.” I swept my hand toward the neat stack of inch-thick bridal magazines on the end table. Lori’s narrowed eyes told me she’d noticed that their pages were uncreased and their spines unbroken. “Look, I’ll talk to David, do some shuttle diplomacy.”
“Thank you.” She came over and hugged my head, the only part not smothered by Dexter. “I’m sorry I’ve become such a freak.” She pranced off to the kitchen, her bridal bipolar state shifting back to manic. “David and I made cinnamon rolls for Easter brunch. We can eat the extras and have Irish coffees while you tell me about your Control assignment.”
“It’s classified.” I felt an actual pain in my gut at keeping a secret from Lori.
“That’s so exciting!” She poured coffee into a pair of glass mugs. “Ciara Griffin, secret agent.”
“I’d rather be a marketing director for a radio station, or a college student. Oh wait, I’m those things, too.”
“Not for long.” She added whiskey to the glasses. “We’ll throw you the biggest graduation party the academic world has ever seen.”
“Proportional to my matriculation time.” Lori and I had started at Sherwood College almost nine years ago, but she’d graduated in the standard four years.
“Speaking of graduating, Tina called me. She’s livid over her assignment. She couldn’t tell me which division she’d hoped for, said it was classified.” Lori set the whiskey bottle down with a clonk. “Oh my God, you got the assignment she wanted?”
The phone rang, saving me from an ethical dilemma. I shoved Dexter off my lap and got up to check the caller ID. A number in northeast Ohio: Shane’s mom.
“Happy Easter, Mrs. McAllister!”
“Happy Easter, dear.” Her voice was warmer than my sweater. “And please call me Mom.”
I already had two of those and had dutifully placed my holiday calls to them on the way home, but what the hell. “Okay. Mom.”
I saw that Shane had left me a note on the refrigerator, as usual. His missives generally combined an affectionate sentiment with detailed instructions on how to stack the Tupperware containers or which angle the coffeemaker and toaster should be aligned. Obsessive-compulsive behavior is one of the quirkier aspects of vampirism.
I scanned the note as Mrs. McAllister told me about their Easter dinner. Shane’s words made heat spread from the base of my spine out to the tips of my fingers and toes. The note was detailed, all right, but the only instructions were for me to be naked in bed when he got home.
“Ciara? Are you there?”
“Oh! Yes.” I shoved the note in my pocket, my cheeks flaming. “What were you asking?”
“How was orientation?” Shane’s mother and sister knew all about the Control, seeing as how the agency, along with me and the DJs, had saved their lives a few years ago.
“It was an adventure. I’m lucky to be in one piece.”
&n
bsp; “I’ve said it before, but I can’t thank you enough.” Her voice became muted. “If it weren’t for your sacrifice, I’d never see my son again.”
“It’s no sacrifice. The pay is great.” Besides, you’re not the only one who would lose him.
“Should I call him tomorrow evening, for, you know…”
“He’d like that. But make it early. The DJs are throwing him a wake.” I opened the refrigerator to get the water pitcher, which Shane had placed up front so I wouldn’t have to reach past his emergency rations of human blood.
“How nice, I guess,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Do you happen to know if he made it to Mass today?”
“You know he can’t risk it. What if they sprinkle the crowd with holy water?” I retrieved a glass from the cabinet, noticing how perfectly they lined up. “Plus, it makes him sad.”
“There’s nothing wrong with sadness. I learned that in therapy after Shane’s father passed away.” Mrs. McAllister paused. “We shouldn’t hide from real feelings. Life’s too short, even for a vampire.”
I poured myself a glass of water, unsure how to respond. I was a big fan of all the denials and self-deceptions that helped us get through the day with our sanity intact.
A beeping noise went off in the background. “Ooh, the tea is done,” Shane’s mom said. “I better go put out the pies. Dessert was late tonight because Jesse had to pick up his girlfriend from her dad’s house in Canton.”
“Is this the cheerleader girlfriend or the one who plays bass in his band?”
“This week it’s the cheerleader. The other one, they’re just friends.”
Friends with benefits, no doubt. I wondered if Shane had been as popular and confident when he was seventeen as his older nephew was. I had a feeling he’d been shy like Jesse’s little brother, Ryan.
After I hung up with Mrs. McAllister, I carried my cinnamon roll and Irish coffee into the living room to join Lori, who was staring at the engagement photo she carried in her wallet.
“Don’t worry, you and David will grow old together.” I licked the melted whipped cream off the top of my mug. “And you’ll get disgustingly cuter with each passing year.”
Bring On the Night Page 3
