I roll my eyes pointedly at the old lady. “Thanks for the info, ma’am.” I can’t believe I’ve wasted my morning talking to her. She’s obviously been playing me since I showed up, and I fell for it. Chupacabra my ass.
She curses me out in Spanish as I walk away, like doing it in another language makes it less insulting, or something. I ignore her and start back toward Emily’s house, working out what I’m going to say to her. Sorry your husband died, but I’m pretty sure it was some kind of sick prank gone wrong, not a demon or Carlos’ vengeful spirit. Can’t help ya.
My eye catches on a flash of light as I start down the dirt path and I turn toward the field. A man is standing among the crops with a hoe slung over his shoulder, the metal glinting. He’s looking at me. Dark hair. Caramel skin. I can’t see his features, but I know it’s Diego. And he knows it’s me.
Except he doesn’t start toward me. Doesn’t even wave.
I keep walking ’till I’m out of sight and run the rest of the way to Emily’s.
***
I reentered my life when I was fourteen. My family thought I’d been brought back from the dead and I played along with it. Told them I had been kidnapped. Blocked it all out. Was just happy to have “escaped” and come back.
My brother and I went to school together—I was way behind since he’d only managed to steal a few textbooks from the school for me to study during my isolation. But I was a swift learner and I picked things up with ease. Except math. I was abysmal at math and eventually, my teacher recommended I get a tutor.
That’s when I met Eva.
She tutored me every day after school, never laughing at me when I screwed up (which was often), keeping her voice level and soft even when I could see her fists tightening on the table in frustration. I was embarrassed by my sluggish brain, but if she pitied me, she never let it show. And after years of my brother’s wide sympathetic eyes, having someone look at me like an equal made me feel whole in a way I’d never experienced before. To her, I was normal. We studied in the hayloft of my family’s barn, warm afternoon light streaming across our faces, turning us golden. I remember thinking that I had never known peace until those moments.
And then winter struck.
My brother and I staged a sickness for which I needed to be quarantined, refusing to tell even our parents where I hid. They still did everything possible to find me. But for a week after the solstice, I couldn’t let myself be found. And when the beast took me, my last thoughts were of Eva’s gentle smile and the way her lips curled around her cheeks and the way her hands sifted through her dark hair as she leaned into me, and how she always smelled of rain, even when the land was bone dry. Right before I was lost, I prayed to whatever God was out there, that she would be spared.
***
It takes me until I get to Em’s house to realize what an idiot I am. I was so worked up over seeing Diego that I failed to connect a major piece of info the old woman gave me. Something that links both Raphie’s and Carlos’ murders: neither of them were found with any blood in their bodies.
Granted, Raphie had been “eaten,” and Carlos simply drained, but the lack of blood thing is something to go on. I only know one creature that sucks blood and that’s a vampire. Without any other leads, and with my time in Puerto Rico running low (Jeff and Marie get back from their own hunting trip on Friday, giving me just two more days), I’ve got to go with my gut. First, however, I need to confirm grandma-liar-pants’ info.
I walk into Emily’s house, trying to phrase my approach in my head. Em, however, beats me to the punch.
“Marie just called,” she says.
I do my best to appear innocent. “You tell them I’m getting close?”
Her frown falters. Distracted. “Are you?”
“I may have something. First, I need confirmation—”
“No. You lied to me. Jeff and Marie have no idea you’re here. You’re not supposed to be working alone.”
“Okay, so it’s my first case. But I’ve got this, Em. Trust me.”
“You lied.”
“So what? They want me to come home?”
“No, they’re coming here. I told them about Raphie and they agreed to find the thing that killed him.”
I let my mouth drop, displaying my outrage. “I can do this, Em! We don’t need them to help.”
“It’s too late. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
Which gives me just tonight to kill the vampire—if that’s what this is. I have to finish this before they get here. If I do, they’ll ease up on the whole I-ran-off-without-telling-them thing.
I try to shuck off my anger, but it’s difficult, becoming a living thing inside me that I have to stamp out. Like a roach. The size of a minivan.
“I spoke to the Rodriguez’,” I grunt. “One of them anyway.”
“And?”
“She said that both Carlos and Raphie’s bodies were left totally bloodless. Is that true?”
“Yes, but Raphie was … mutilated and Carlos wasn’t. They claimed it was a suicide.”
“And, ah … and you didn’t mention he died over a year ago.”
She simply shrugs, looking off into the distance again.
“Do you think Carlos would have killed himself?” I ask tentatively.
“No. Never. We were … in love.”
“And Raphie knew you two were together? Do you think he had the smarts to stage a suicide like that? Without any blood?”
She opens her mouth to answer, but I blabber on over her.
“And why would he do that?” I ask, pacing. “I mean, if you’re going to murder your wife’s lover, why do it that way? Making it look like a suicide is smart, but then why siphon out all the blood?” I stop pacing, rounding on Emily. “Unless … ”
She glares at me, clearly knowing where I’m headed. “We met at high noon, Eva. Raphael was not a vampire.”
I cock an eyebrow at her and resume my pacing. “Just checking. Without much more to go on—and little time to find out more—I’m going to work under the assumption that there’s a vampire in the area. It still doesn’t account for the fact that Raphie was —as you so nicely put it—mutilated, but maybe the vamp is getting sloppy. Maybe something else found the exsanguinated body and gobbled it up afterward. Either way, this looks a lot like vampire work to me, and if I can find the sucker tonight, I can kill him.”
Emily looks pale when I turn to her. “Shouldn’t you wait for Jeff and Marie to get here?”
And let them steal my kill after I did all the hard work? No way.
“This vampire could kill again at any time, Em,” I say with false urgency. “It needs to be destroyed stat. If you need me, I’ll be at the Rodriguez’ tonight. I won’t have my cell on, but you can leave a message if you have to, and I’ll try to check it.”
“You’re going back there?” Em asks, shaky.
I nod. “It’s struck there twice now. Best believe it’ll show its face again. If I give it some bait, that is.” I grin to myself. Looks like that cleaver is going to come in handy, after all. Just not in the way I envisioned.
***
The first and only time I kissed Eva was in my dreams. It felt impossibly real, and as I awoke after the beast left me, I remember clinging to my subconscious creation, desperate to keep her. We had grown closer than ever over a year despite my two seemingly random week-long disappearances. I was painfully in love with her. But unsure of her feelings for me, we remained only friends.
Before the beast took me that year, I had made plans to make her mine. I created elaborate scenarios in my head where I kissed her on the stroke of midnight with her hands in mine, or underneath the golden sun in the hayloft we visited every afternoon. I planned a million kisses, a million embraces, a million I love yous I would never speak.
But after I changed, it became clear that not only was I too shy to do anything as bold as a kiss, but it would be wildly irresponsible to be with her. Not with the beast and its craving for blood. If som
ething ever went wrong, I couldn’t be around Eva when it happened. I needed to be as far away from her as possible.
I planned on distancing myself upon my return to the village. I planned on breaking our friendship forever.
She beat me to the punch. Before the school year was out, she left. We said goodbye and I saw myself kissing her, just so I’d know what it was like. Instead, I watched her drive away with her relatives, bound for Miami where she would have a better future.
To this day, I wish I’d kissed her goodbye.
Little more than a year later, my brother was murdered.
Six months after that, I killed another human for the first time since my childhood. The taste of human life was thick on my tongue again. And this time, my brother wasn’t around to keep me in check.
***
The Rodriguez’ farm is nothing more than a black splotch against a navy sky. No lights penetrate the darkness, no sounds come from within. I’m the only thing making noise out here tonight. Me and my squelching footsteps as I creep across the muddy field toward the barn.
I don’t want to go in the barn. And not because I’m afraid there’s a vampire inside.
This place holds too many memories.
Flashes of wide hazel eyes invade my mind no matter how hard I try to focus on the task at hand. I’m furious with myself, because this is not how Jeff and Marie taught me to work. I’m supposed to be hard, mind sharp, reflexes coiled for anything.
Instead my heart is slamming against the inside of my ribcage, and my palms are sweaty as they grip the cleaver, and I can’t stop seeing his damn beautiful eyes. Stupid eyes. Stupid face. Stupid lips that never touched mine.
I want to cry standing here in the barn where I first started loving Diego. But I’m better than that. I’m not crying over him anymore. It’s useless. And it could very well get me killed.
Sheer force of will keeps me from climbing into the hayloft and weeping for everything I left, and instead I circle the barn, my left hand clenched on a penlight I aim around the premises. Horses. Cows. Jugs to hold milk. Sharp tools hanging on the moldy wall.
Exactly as I remember it.
Only everything is dark blue instead of gold.
And I’m going to be bleeding soon, which isn’t fun.
Sucking in a deep breath, I find myself a nice secluded, shadowy spot near a horse’s stall and crouch down. Vampires can smell blood for miles, and if it’s hungry, bloodlust will compel it to the source. No matter what.
I can only hope the thing is starved. I can’t allow myself to bleed too much, after all. Especially since I’ll need my strength to kill this thing.
As I wait, I marvel briefly at my calmness. I suppose I should be more nervous doing this on my own and all, but I’ve seen Jeff and Marie at it so many times I feel ready. False sense of security? Maybe. But I need to do this to prove myself. Fear will not stop me.
The barn, however personally painful, is the perfect spot for a trap. Secluded. Dark. And the animals will give me sound coverage if needed. One sharp poke in the hindquarters and the horses will whinny and buck around. If the trap disintegrates into a fight, I’ll use them to cover the noise.
Now, it’s just a matter of setting the bait. And waiting.
With a hiss, I slice my arm open and let it bleed.
***
She came back because of me. Somehow, I know this, even when I know nothing else. Eva returned home because of what I did.
She looked different, when I saw her. Taller. Leaner. Her hair was long, tumbling in a great black wave down her back. Had I not sensed her presence like a piercing through my heart, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She stared at me from across the field like I was a stranger. But she knew me, too.
And when she turned and ran from me, I knew she had come to kill me.
Not surprisingly, considering the direction my life has gone since the beast consumed me, I was going to let her.
My brother was gone. I had taken human life again. And I knew, deep in my marrow, that I would do it again. The beast could not be tamed without my brother’s help. And no matter how I longed to live, to walk the path of another, kinder life, I was destined to be a killer.
So I would let Eva end it.
She had been the one to bring me out of the stupor of hell I’d been living in when I was younger. She had been the one to give my life meaning all those years ago. So it felt right, fitting even, that she be the one to kill me. To set me free, once more. Only this time, in the most permanent of ways.
Inexplicably, however, I wondered if this time … she would let me kiss her goodbye.
***
It’s an hour till dawn when I hear a shuffling outside the barn. At first, I think it’s my imagination getting the better of me. I want this so bad, I wouldn’t be surprised if my exhausted brain conjured up a vampire from the shadows just to satisfy itself.
I stand, hoping I’m still concealed, as I listen to the shuffling move around the exterior of the barn. Heading for the door.
My heart is a flag whipping in a wild wind, my hands and feet numb and not from blood loss. This is it. My time to prove myself.
The barn door creaks open and a shadow enters. The animals around me, probably sensing the evil, start fidgeting. Which is good cover. As the shadow creeps into the barn, I start to squint, because something isn’t right. Vampires look like humans, except deader. But this thing—whatever it is—this isn’t a vampire.
It’s huge. At least two heads taller than me and its spine is curved in a “C” shape, making it look hunchbacked. The sound of its breath snuffing through its chest makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge. No vampire has lungs that large. No vampire’s eyes glint like that when the moonlight catches them. No vampire on earth could possibly make the sounds—growls and vicious snarls—this creature is making.
I realize all at once that I’ve made a horrible mistake.
It lunges suddenly and I’m pinned to the wall by its enormous claws. Hot, fetid breath clogs my lungs and oozing saliva runs down my neck, dripping down my shirt.
The knife clatters to the floor and all I can think about is how spectacularly I’ve screwed this up.
“P-please,” I whisper. “Please … ”
I don’t expect the beast to listen—how could it?—but somehow it does. The nails slide out of my flesh, leaving rivulets of blood that pour down my shirt, and the creature leaps back, whining. Like a dog in pain. I catch a glimpse of a scaled body hunched in the moonlight, seeming to drag itself backward, away from me.
I dip slowly to the ground, searching for my fallen weapon. Unable to find it, I force my eyes off the creature. My hand wraps around the wooden handle, and I look back up, seeking to hock the cleaver at the creature.
But it’s gone.
For an instant, I want to let it go. The relief at being uneaten is that immense. But then, not only will this thing kill again, and Raphie’s killer will go free, but Jeff and Marie will know I wimped out. Failed.
I can’t let that happen.
Cursing, I blast out of the barn and search the surrounding fields. It can’t have gotten far …
Yes!
A massive black shape is careening through the fields, heading straight for the jungle.
It takes me less than a minute to race across the muddy field, and when I get to the tree line, I stop only briefly to pick up the creature’s trail. It’s an obvious one. The thing is at least seven feet tall and built like a grizzly bear, so the giant hole it left as it crashed through the underbrush is simple to follow.
I run full tilt, stopping only occasionally to listen, hoping I hear the creature up ahead. But whatever it is, it’s fast. I’m way behind.
As dawn breaks over the horizon, I decide I have to stop. The trail goes on for what seems like forever, and I haven’t heard any sign of the creature for almost an hour. I brace my hand against a vine-choked tree and catch my breath.
I look up at the trail, wishing
I could just keep going. But Marie and Jeff will be here soon, and it’s not like I have any camping supplies on me. As I turn to find my way back home, the sunlight peaks from behind a hazy cloud and catches on something metal through the broken trees the creature barreled past.
I pick my way toward it, heart thudding loudly again—and not from my run. There’s something up there. Something … big.
The trees part and I’m in a clearing of sorts. It’s small, seemingly manmade, and there’s a hut in the center, camouflaged with trees and vines. I circle around, looking for where the creature’s trail picks up again, but I can’t find it. Only conclusion: the creature stopped here.
Something bangs inside the hut, and I crash through the flimsy front door, entering the hovel. It smells of soot and sweat inside and all the furniture looks to be handmade. A desk and a rickety chair stand at one end, and a stone floor with what looks like the remnants of a small fire are at the other. Before the fireplace is what I assume to be a bed. It’s nothing but a pile of ratty blankets, next to which is a rather impressive stack of books. Text books, literature … even a few comic books.
Someone lives here, obviously. But whoever—or whatever—made the banging sound is gone.
I step over toward the desk and find more books, stacks of dirty paper and some ballpoint pens. There’s also a dagger, which I slip into my back pocket.
A book catches my eye on the desk and I pick it up, running my hands over the worn leather. It’s a journal. I frown, reading an excerpt from the first page. No … it’s more of a story, likely written by whoever lives here. But whether it’s fiction …
I flip through the book, and my heart plunges.
My name.
My name is written all over the pages of this book. I’d never met anyone like Eva before. Smart, quiet, funny … her presence calmed me when I felt like my world was coming apart, made me want to live this cursed life if only for the chance to be with her again …
I feel my butt hit the chair as everything crashes down on me, wave after wave of horror.
Very Superstitious Page 5
