by K. A. Poe
He frowned. “Is there anything I can get you? Water? Pepto?”
“No, thanks…I’m just going to get some rest. Hopefully I’ll feel better by morning and we can enjoy wherever we go sightseeing tomorrow.”
“Actually, we have arrangements to meet with the man I told you about.”
I perked up somewhat, my heart pounding in my chest. “We’re finally going to meet him?”
“Yep, we’re meeting him tomorrow for lunch—if your stomach feels up to it, anyway.”
“We’ll see in the morning, I guess,” I muttered, curled up on my side and shut my eyes.
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough—I was finally going to know who this strange man was that was eager to meet me. Was it just some music enthusiast that wanted to hear me play? Perhaps a long lost relative that wanted to get to know me? Or, was it who I had thought it was all along? What would I even do if I came face-to-face with Malik the next day? Especially with my foster father around, who was completely oblivious to vampires as far as I knew?
For what purpose could Lord Malik want to meet with me, of all people? He spent years convincing my mother that I was fake, so why would he suddenly decide to believe I was real? My mind calmed slightly when Salem crawled into bed beside me, sneaking a gentle kiss against my forehead before he whispered ‘goodnight’ in my ear.
I was awoken by the sound of creaking floorboards and a door shutting. Ordinarily I easily slept through everything—even an earthquake once—but my slumber was immediately disturbed when someone entered the hotel room. Rubbing my groggy eyes, I struggled to get a clear view of whoever it was. Salem was still sound asleep beside me, curled up on his side with one arm draped across my abdomen. I gently lifted his arm and placed it against the mattress as I sat up.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I heard Melissa whisper. “Des and I were downstairs in the lobby getting some fresh coffee and pastries—did you want me to get you some?”
My hair tickled the back of my neck as I shook my head. “No, thanks…let me wake Salem up and we’ll go down and get some.”
“Sure. Don’t wait too long, though. Breakfast ends in forty minutes.”
“Are you going back to join…Dad?” My stomach churned as I thought of my real father…my eyes fought with me, begging to burst into tears as I envisioned his stiff body on the bottom of the cavern floor.
“Yeah, I just came to get my purse,” she said with a sympathetic frown. “You look like you’re about to cry, hon. Are you okay?”
I shrugged and attempted to glance away. “I’ll be fine…there’s just a lot on my mind. Breakfast should be enough to distract me, I hope.”
With a nod, Melissa quietly approached my side of the bed, draped an arm around me and smiled. “We’ll see you down there soon. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Absolutely,” I said awkwardly and watched her pick her purse up from the nightstand, glance back at me, and then walk out the door.
Briefly, I lay back down against the warm mattress and stared at Salem’s sleeping face. Strands of shimmery ebony hair fell across his closed eyelids, and I gently pushed them away to get a better view. His skin was warm and I thought back to a time when he was as cold as ice. He stirred in his sleep somewhat at my touch and I quickly pulled away so as not to wake him. The peaceful expression painted across his face made me want to leave him be, how could I disturb something so precious, so comfortable?
“Salem?” I whispered lightly, part of me hoping that he wouldn’t wake up. I could go downstairs alone and let him rest—but I knew deep down that neither of us wanted that.
My eyes followed his movements as his fought to stay closed and he moved his arm around searchingly on the bed before wrapping it around me.
Fighting back a chuckle, I tapped him on the shoulder. “Salem, wake up.”
“Do I have to?” he replied groggily and peeked at me through tired eyes.
“You do if you want breakfast with Desmond and Melissa.”
He grumbled and sat up. “There was once a time when food and eating was much easier to ignore.”
“And sleep was impossible, yet you seem pretty fond of that again already.”
With a smile, he nodded. “It is pleasant, especially with you beside me.”
By the time we made it downstairs, the small room was flooded with people picking doughnuts, danishes and muffins off of a small banquet table. I could barely make out the location of my foster father and Melissa until I heard them call my name. They were pressed up in the corner of the room, mingling with some of the other guests. After a quick wave in response, I led Salem through the crowd towards the food. There was a small stack of paper plates, I grabbed one and covered it in as many food items as possible while Salem grabbed two Styrofoam cups of orange juice. We carefully made our way to the back of the room and Desmond smiled warmly as we approached.
“I hope you slept well,” he said after sipping his coffee.
“Well…it was definitely better than that last motel,” I commented and gathered a blueberry muffin from the plate. It was moist and sweet and I consumed it within seconds. I felt as though I hadn’t eaten in ages despite the large dinner the night before.
“I see your stomach must be feeling better too, huh?” Desmond laughed as he nodded towards my overflowing plate.
“Yeah, thankfully.”
Salem casually nibbled on a cherry cheese danish and scanned the room. There were so many random people scattered around the cramped lobby, it was nearly impossible to move about without accidentally elbowing someone or stepping on their feet. A lot of the surrounding people were clearly native to Romania, and I couldn’t understand a word they were saying.
“This is your first time in Romania, right, Salem?” I asked as I continued glancing at the surrounding people.
“Yes,” he replied and dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “It was on my list of places I wanted to visit, however. I suppose now thanks to Desmond, I may mentally cross it off.”
My foster father smiled at my husband and patted him on the shoulder. “It was my pleasure. You two should join us more often on our trips.”
“Maybe,” I said with a subtle smile. This wasn’t exactly my idea of fun. There were too many people, too many words that I didn’t know, and the possibility that I was going to meet one of the strongest, vilest vampires in undead history. Perhaps I had it all wrong and Desmond brought us here to meet a kind Romanian gentleman that was merely curious about my music as he suggested, but I couldn’t shake my fears. With the way my life had played out over the past two years, there was little that would surprise me—and meeting Malik was one of those things that I could almost expect to happen.
The most difficult part of it was the fact that Desmond and Mel were, as far as I knew, completely unaware of the supernatural existing in our world. How was I going to explain to them that I was a natural-born hunter of the undead, that I was briefly a vampire myself, and oh, not to forget that my husband is technically well over one hundred years old. Mitchell and Jason may have been able to understand it, but they are young and open-minded…what would my ‘father’ think?
2. MUSEUM
The air had a slight chill to it when Salem, Desmond and I stepped outside of the hotel lobby and called for a cab. Melissa had opted to go off on her own for once, though I wasn’t quite sure why. My foster father wouldn’t tell me exactly where our destination was, and I was anxious beyond belief. A very small part of me longed to have Hannah with me, she would have warned me ahead of time if I was about to become victim to the man that corrupted my mother…but there was no telling where she was or what she was doing at this point in time. We hadn’t left on good terms, considering she was against my decision to potentially borne a creature that destroys the world. I shook my head in disbelief, causing Salem to give me a questioning stare, but I shrugged at him and played a false smile. There was no possible way that my child—our child—could be evil, especially not a vampire! It was
impossible to give birth to a member of the undead—not to mention Salem and I were now fully human. Besides, I had just gotten married—having kids was still something distant in my mind.
My thoughts whirled away into nothing as a yellow cab pulled up to a curb and we climbed inside. Desmond took the front passenger seat beside the driver, and looked back at me reassuringly. He seemed quite positive that this was a grand idea and that I would be fascinated by the man he was about to introduce me to…but I wasn’t so sure. The cab driver announced that our destination was roughly ten miles away. My stomach churned once the tires started to move and we were on the road, headed toward what I feared would be a catastrophic event.
Desmond and the cab driver—whom I could barely see, and didn’t really care to—had a long discussion in Romanian that gave me a headache just hearing it. Why couldn’t they just speak in plain old English and make this simpler for me? Perhaps it was because my father wanted this to be a surprise trip. Then again, we were in Romania…maybe the driver did not know English at all.
I barely noticed Salem slip his fingers between mine and grip tightly onto my hand; I assumed he was trying to reassure me, but maybe he was just as nervous as I was. We passed the café we had eaten at a night ago, and my mind was instantly filled with memories of throwing up. I tried to alter the path of my thoughts and instead thought of the following morning when we had breakfast in the lobby. The mere idea of food was making my stomach gurgle unpleasantly. I glanced out the window again and saw a gas station, a small gift shop, and a line of identical buildings that I assumed was a community of office buildings. The cab took a sharp turn to the right after we passed the buildings and I quickly spotted a large brick museum up ahead.
“An art museum?” I asked as the cab pulled into the wide parking lot and came to a full stop. “This was the huge surprise?”
“Don’t sound too excited, Alex,” Desmond replied sarcastically. “This is where he asked us to meet him before lunch.”
“Sooo…did he think you said I was interested in art instead of music or something?”
“No, Alex.”
I shrugged and climbed out of the cab. My legs wobbled beneath me and I leaned on the door for support. Everything will be okay, Malik isn’t in this museum. Unfortunately, repeating this in my head wasn’t helping in the least.
While Desmond paid the cab driver, Salem wrapped an arm around my waist and led me to the front of the building.
“Malik won’t be in there, Alexis, I promise,” he whispered in my ear. “But, if by some chance he is, we can leave as soon as you notice him.”
“Right,” I nodded, even though my mind was full of doubt.
“He doesn’t know what you look like at this age, and he wouldn’t know that Desmond, of all people, knows you.”
He was right. There was no possible way for Malik to know who I was, what I looked like, or that Desmond knew me. I sighed with relief and heard Desmond approach us from behind.
“When I called him yesterday evening, he asked that we meet him by the abstract paintings.”
Salem and I reluctantly followed him through two glass doors and were immediately met with a gust of warm air. I inhaled deeply and let the warmth fill my lungs as I scanned the expansive room before us. There were statues of things even I couldn’t make sense of, distorted shapes that were supposed to resemble one thing or another. Voices carried through the room as if pulled through the air vents and transported from one end of the museum to the other. Some of the visitors were notably from out of country, while others were definite natives. My eyes were rapidly scanning the vicinity for any sign of the black-haired Vampire Lord from the visions my late mother had shared with me. I felt some relief at the lack of his appearance.
“This way, you two,” Desmond instructed and led us down a hall with pale blue walls adorned with nature paintings. I wanted to stop and examine one of a beautiful snowy scene, but my feet sped along behind my foster father.
My heart began racing faster with each step as we neared the abstract paintings, some of which Salem stopped to glance at briefly. There was a small crowd of people huddled up near a particular painting of what I thought to be a butterfly nestled on a flower, but everyone had their own opinion. I spotted a man in a dark gray trench coat buttoned up all of the way until the top two buttons, underneath which lay a pure white dress shirt and he instantly struck me as the man we had come to meet. Everyone else in the room was clad in ordinary clothing, aside from Salem and Desmond who dressed nicely for the occasion. I didn’t bother changing into anything special, I felt that a burgundy blouse and denim jeans was fit enough. Thankfully, I didn’t feel very out of place among the majority of the crowd.
“Wait here just a minute,” Desmond instructed and approached the group up ahead.
I stood warily beside Salem as we both observed the quiet conversation between Desmond and the man in the trench coat. If I had been able to retain my powers I could have easily eavesdropped, some things were going to take a long time to get used to again.
I gulped involuntarily as my foster father pointed in my direction and the mysterious figure glanced toward me and grinned. The only thing that kept me from turning around and running was the fact that this man was definitely not Malik. He had a warm, friendly face that was somewhat boyish despite having to be at least the same age as Desmond. He was slim around the waist, but even beneath the trench coat one could tell that he had large muscular arms. Despite his apparent strength, he didn’t appear intimidating at all. Wisps of light brown hair lingered over his deep honey-colored, bouncing slightly as he stepped closer to us.
“Good morning, Miss Hobbs,” he said in a welcoming, accented voice as he held out a hand.
The cool touch of his skin startled me at first, causing my mind to wander, but I ignored it—humans could have cold hands, and it was certainly chilly here in Romania. There was no evidence that this man was a vampire. I shook his hand gently and smiled. “Hello. And it’s Young now, actually. Alexis Young. My dad still hasn’t told me your name.”
“Ah,” he said and acknowledged Salem’s presence. “My name is Cassius Arith, and I do apologize for my rudeness, however…I was not expecting more than just Alexis and her father.”
“I can leave, if necessary,” Salem replied.
Cassius looked him over quickly and seemed to decide that he was welcome. “It is of no need. I assume you are the new husband, no?”
“That’s right.”
“Ah, well congratulations are in order then!”
“Thank you,” Salem and I both said in unison.
“Shall we carry on to the restaurant?”
“Why did we meet you here instead of the restaurant…if we are just heading straight there anyway?” I asked, hoping I did not sound rude.
“You wouldn’t have known where to find this specific eatery, my dear,” Cassius replied and smiled, despite the hint of annoyance I saw in his eyes. “It is for members only, and it is best that a member show you the way. After all, those…internet maps can never be trustworthy.”
My eyes followed Cassius’s every move as he led us out of the crowded museum and into the cold. Desmond didn’t seem concerned with the oddity of going from one place to another so suddenly. Perhaps he was used to members-only diners; it wouldn’t surprise me at all after all the stories he had droned on about the last few weeks.
A sleek, black limousine awaited us at the sidewalk and my mouth fell agape. I had never been in a limo before, and I couldn’t peel my eyes off of the long, magnificent vehicle. A well-groomed, suited man with a curled mustache exited the car and opened the back door. Cassius held out his hand as a means of guiding the three of us inside, and we each climbed in. He followed after us and took a seat on one of the comfortable black leather seats. I listened as the chauffeur shut the driver side door and turned on the engine.
“This is fantastic,” I breathed, inhaling the fresh scent of leather.
“I am glad yo
u approve,” Cassius replied and rested his hands in his lap. “Desmond has told me a lot about you and your abilities.”
Abilities—I felt an awkward pang in my stomach at the mentioning of the word, until I remembered why I was here. It had nothing to do with that fact that I was a natural-born vampire hunter. Desmond didn’t know that part of my history, and this man was only interested in my life as a musician.
“Oh,” I nodded and cleared my throat. “I’m not that good, really. I haven’t played much in a while. I used to play a lot in school but…” The memory of quitting school so closely to graduation crept back into my mind. I regretted that decision, if for no other reason than it would have meant more time spent with Karen before she had passed away.
“Don’t be so modest dear, your father has already told me you were quite the musical prodigy as a child. Those gifts don’t just vanish.”
My mind raced again at the word “gift”. It was amazing how such a simple and common word now brought on all these emotions and feelings. Paul had always called my raven abilities a gift.
“I would love to hear you play sometime soon.”
My cheeks betrayed me and reddened slightly. “Thank you…I would be happy to…”
Salem sat quietly between Desmond and me, observing each of us in silence. I felt suddenly claustrophobic in the limousine and shut my eyes tightly, inhaling deeply and wishing the car would come to a full stop and I could get a breath of fresh air. I couldn’t recall any other time where I felt like this, and I had been confined in tight spaces plenty of times before. Maybe it was the fact that I was riding in the back-facing seat of the limo. Whatever was causing it, my nerves were in a huge bundled up knot and I could feel trickles of sweat seeping from my pores. Faint voices reached my ears but I could not comprehend whose they were, or if they were even real, until I felt a sudden shaking of my entire core and my eyes flew open.
