by Brooklyn Ann
Everyone but Sylvis lit up the second the car pulled out of the school parking lot. Sylvis had a newspaper with the classified section open on her lap and was skimming the ads, highlighter in one hand, and a bag of Skittles in the other.
“How about this one?” she mumbled through a mouthful of candy. “Commercial building on Northwest Boulevard: $600 a month. That’s a nice deal!”
Xochitl sighed. “You forget. I’m between jobs now. Burger Hut fired me because they didn’t want to give me time off for Mom’s funeral. ‘Right to Work state’ my ass.”
“Those assholes!” Akasha roared, carefully flicking her cigarette ashes into an empty Red Bull can. “Why do you want to rent a building?”
Aurora turned to her and flicked her cigarette in the can. “We need to find a new place to practice our music. Our lease ran out on our old place, but the building was condemned anyway…and haunted.”
“Yeah, but that part was fun!” Xochitl grinned at her in the rearview mirror. “You shouldda been there ‘Kash! It was this creepy old church and there was a freezing cold place in the bell tower that kept our drinks cold even in the summer and…”
As Xochitl chattered away, Akasha took a deep drag of her cigarette as an idea occurred to her. The band needed a place to practice and Silas had a huge garage… and he wasn’t even around most of the time. If they could use it, they’d be so happy.
“Hey guys,” she said, eager to repay the kindness her friends had shown her. “Don’t sign any leases until tomorrow. I may have an idea.”
***
When Akasha approached Silas in his office to ask if her friends could use his garage to practice their music, it was all he could do not to grin in triumph. The opportunity to begin fulfilling Delgarias’s request had literally fallen into his lap. He’d been agonizing on how to broach the subject of Akasha’s friends without the lass getting suspicious and defensive.
He leaned back in his chair and fixed his expression into one of mild interest as she stumbled awkwardly over her request, obviously unused to wheedling a man. With those delicious lips and sparkling eyes, God help him if she ever learned feminine wiles.
“It’s not like they’d be in the way, since you’re not around much,” Akasha finished, shifting back and forth on her toes, barely meeting his gaze.
Silas couldn’t hide his pleased smile any longer. “How noble you are to ask for something for others rather than yourself.”
A bright blush tinged her cheeks, like dawn’s light on freshly fallen snow. “Well, I just thought…” she trailed off.
“But the garage will likely be too cold soon, even with the space heater,” he began. Akasha’s face fell in disappointment. Her succulent lower lip thrust out and he longed to take it in his mouth like a ripe cherry. Silas took a deep breath and forced his focus back on the subject. “I think it would be better if they used the basement.”
Akasha blinked as she digested his words. “Really? Thank you. What made you decide to get such a huge place anyway?”
Silas chuckled and looked around at the elaborate setting he had provided just for this woman who’d haunted his visions for centuries. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Well, okay.” She shrugged. “I’ll invite them over tomorrow, after the Halloween kegger.” Her gaze leveled on him. “They’re kinda weird, but really nice.”
“And who will be driving you home from this kegger?” Silas asked with a dangerous note to his voice that promised ill if her answer was unsatisfactory.
“Xochitl’s driving Aurora’s van. She doesn’t like beer, so she’ll be sober,” she said, undaunted. “Chill, we’re not stupid.”
Silas frowned. That may be, but it wouldn’t stop him from checking on her all the same.
Chapter Ten
“Lord McNaught, do I have your permission to start business in your territory?” the vampire repeated.
Silas had to fight to keep his attention on the petitioner, anxious to get his first glimpse of Akasha’s friends before they arrived here for the evening. He regretted setting this appointment, but his responsibilities as Lord of the City couldn’t be ignored without dire consequences. Every vampire wanting to reside in his territory must be completely checked out and Silas had to make his rules clear at the offset. Punishments must be doled out immediately to those who disobeyed, for if he lost control there were plenty of other powerful vampires who wouldn’t hesitate to swoop down and snatch this city for themselves.
“I do think a doctor would be useful here. Greenbriar, was it?” Silas finally replied.
The doctor nodded. “Yes, my lord. Please, call me Jonathon.”
“And your former Lord is fine with your leaving?”
“Not only do I have her writ of permission,” the vampire reached into his breast pocket, “but she also included a letter of recommendation.”
Silas read both impatiently. “Very well, Jonathon.” He handed him a packet of papers. “Here’s your contract of residence with the laws of my territory, my listings of properties for rent and my loan information if you need funds to get a start. I’ll see you tomorrow when you’ve read and signed everything. I apologize, but I must conclude this interview. I have another pressing matter to see to.”
The minute Jonathon was out the door Silas went outside and opened his mind to the Mark between him and Akasha. As he got into the car, he felt her a few miles southeast.
He was on a dirt road past the lake and near the Fernan Saddle when he saw the light of the bonfire and heard the music. Silas pulled over and walked the rest of the way, not wanting to be seen. As he drew closer to the party, he sensed the presence of something not human …and not vampire either. It could be none other than the daughter of Mephistopheles. McNaught peered through the trees and saw a mass of young people indulging in drunken debauchery that he hadn’t enjoyed for five centuries. Two boys held the legs of another as he drank from a keg upside down. Silas chuckled, remembering doing just that from a barrel of ale.
His heart gave a pang of longing as he spotted Akasha, standing near a crudely erected stage, drinking beer and watching a group of musicians perform. Drums sounded and a demonic scream rent the air.
Goosebumps rose up on the vampire’s skin as power prickled the air. The creature on the stage with the black and purple hair was the inhuman presence: Xochitl, the daughter of the creator of vampires. She stood before the microphone, playing a guitar with expert fingers and singing with the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard, punctuating the song with screams of rage. Power thrummed through her, the likes of which he’d never felt.
As Silas’s gaze traveled over her and the other musicians, a premonition hit him.
This is supposed to be, an inner voice announced. They and their music will shape your destiny and those of many worlds. That insistent voice unnerved him far worse than his visions, for it came so rarely.
The vampire’s breath caught at the music. He’d never before cared for heavy metal music, but the way these four combined rhythms and melodies could have made Mozart weep. They had great talent at such tender ages. How much is learned, and how much is the destiny that binds them? Silas could almost see the lines of power linking the group. Xochitl looked ethereally beautiful up on stage; her jet black and purple hair flowed in the wind, her eyes molten amber in the firelight. The other three were an impressive sight with all the passion they displayed.
Silas watched the performance, periodically looking at Akasha who appeared to be just as amazed. The other revelers danced with abandon, oblivious that powerful magic was at work here. The song ended and he had to fight to keep from applauding with the rest of the audience.
A boy stumbled near his hiding spot to urinate, so he had to back away.
When he found another vantage point the band had exited the stage, put away their instruments and joined Akasha.
“You guys were fucking incredible!” Her amethyst eyes sparkled.
The bass player had his arm
around Akasha as other girls began to swarm him. Silas bared his fangs. How dare that messy-haired brat touch her! It was all he could do not to leap forward and pull her into his arms.
“Hey! You lookin’ at me fag?” A Goliath of a boy in a letterman jacket approached the bass player.
The bassist rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t do jocks, jackass.”
“What’d you call me?” The jock grabbed the boy, towering over him and emanating menace.
Akasha grabbed the assailant, lifted him in the air and threw him. He crashed into a group of other boys in matching jackets.
How in God’s name did she do that? The lad outweighs her by at least a hundred pounds! Silas froze, remembering her unnatural strength the night they tuned up his car. So I didn’t imagine it then.
“You fuck with Beau, you fuck with me,” Akasha growled, turning Silas’s attention back to the fight.
A crowd gathered, cheering at the entertainment. Xochitl and the other two girls leapt into the fray. Beau didn’t need Akasha’s help. Though he was small and wiry, the lad held his own just fine, fists flying into the faces of his attackers and jumping back up when he took a blow. To the vampire’s further astonishment, Xochitl and the blue-haired guitar player both appeared to be skilled in hand to hand combat. After a few lightning-quick hits and roundhouse kicks their enemies avoided them completely. Their opponents tried to help their comrade fight Beau, but Xochitl and her friend wouldn’t let them near.
Akasha and the drummer were at the far end of the circle of spectators. The drummer straddled her opponent, bashing his head on the ground until he begged for mercy. Akasha was being careful with her enemy, only shoving him away and dodging his blows. She didn’t deliver a single punch, obviously careful not to display her inhuman strength again.
Finally, the attackers gave up and left the party with a parting shot from the leader.
“You’ll pay for this, freaks. I’ll get you all!”
“I just don’t understand why that asshole thinks I want his body,” Beau said with a dramatic sigh. “He’s totally not my type. I like my boys with a little more brains.”
“He’s probably hung like a squirrel,” Xochitl replied with a dismissive shrug.
Silas nearly choked, holding back his laughter as he headed back to his car. Xochitl may be a powerful creature, but that made her no less a rambunctious youth.
***
Three weeks later
They were loud. Silas looked at the clock and buried his face in his hands in futile effort to dim the sound of Aurora’s drums. The sun would not set for another hour but Akasha’s friends had yet again awakened him early with their raucous music.
His efforts to charm the four had worked too well. For the past few weeks, it seemed Rage of Angels, as they called themselves, had practically moved in. The basement— inconveniently above his hidden sleeping quarters— was now a veritable haven to the group, when they weren’t working as his new cleaning service.
Silas smiled. It had been so easy to get them under his thumb. One would think Delgarias had planned it that way.
Despite their unruly music and morbid taste in clothing, Akasha’s eccentric friends were better mannered than the average adolescents. Also, they were far more dedicated to their goals than most mortals. Silas closed his eyes and thought of the four musicians.
To his relief the bass player, Beau, had no interest in Akasha. From the way the boy looked at Silas when they were first introduced, it was apparent Beau’s interests lay in his own gender.
The guitarist, Sylvis, seemed to be a shy thing at first, but he quickly learned she was something of a comedienne. The girl had been Xochitl’s best friend since early childhood and it seemed they had a language of their own, often punctuated with bouts of hysterical laughter. Both were finishing their high school diplomas at the college with Akasha. Aurora and Beau hadn’t qualified. After scenting marijuana on the two, Silas was not surprised.
However, despite her taste for illegal herbs, Aurora, the drummer, was definitely not lacking in intelligence. As the unspoken leader of the band, when she tapped on her drums like a judge with a gavel, looking like a queen as she declared it was time to practice, or that some melody should be cut, her word was law.
Silas yawned. Then there was Xochitl, the walking, singing conundrum. Although she was supposed to be the offspring of an evil being, she did not seem to be malevolent in the slightest. Her mother had been a preschool teacher, of all things.
Xochitl’s bubbly cheer and impulsiveness hid a frightening intellect, which made its appearance in the most surprising times. Just last night, she had sat across from him at the dining room table decked out in leather and fishnet as she sipped wine like a duchess and discussed the battle of Flodden Field with him— in German. According to Akasha, Xochitl could speak six languages. Silas had only mastered four. The next time he saw her, she was scampering about the house wearing a ragged baby blanket about her shoulders like an ill-fitting cape.
Together, the four filled his castle with chaos, amusement, and music. After centuries of solitude, having a full house was unnerving, yet invigorating. It seemed the musicians never slept. When they weren’t practicing their music, they were talking, laughing, and often watching movies.
Silas shuddered. They had horrible taste in movies. Thanks to them, he could likely recite every line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail as well as everything done by Mel Brooks. They loved horror movies equally well. Practically every vampire movie, from the silliest to the most grotesque, had been paraded before his eyes. Silas lived in increasing fear of what would happen if the group found out he was a vampire. Would they attempt to stake him or kiss him? He took more care than ever when entering and leaving his lair, ensuring they never discovered the secret entrance.
On weekends, they laid out sleeping bags and camped on the floor while Akasha gleefully joined them. Silas sighed. Since Halloween, he’d barely had a moment alone with her.
On a happier note, Akasha smiled far more frequently since Xochitl and her group started practicing at his house. And her laugh...oh God, her laugh. Silas shivered the first time the deep, throaty sound poured from her lips. Smooth and strong as single malt Scotch, it was a sound made for closed bedroom doors, for nights of pleasure under silk sheets.
The incessant drums finally stopped and Silas allowed sleep to carry him off in an erotic dream.
Chapter Eleven
Akasha crept out of the shed. Under the cover of darkness she made her way to the garbage cans, careful not to let the slight finger of light from the windows touch her. Her breath made clouds and her teeth chattered, but she ignored the bitter cold, focusing on her goal.
With utmost care, she lifted the lid of the first can without a sound. Her eyes widened at the bounty. A half sandwich and a can with a few mouthfuls of beans! Gently, she set down the lid. Her hand stuck to the icy handle. She bit her lip to hold in a cry of pain when she freed it.
The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked pierced the frigid air.
“Hold it right there,” a gravelly voice commanded. “Turn around.”
Akasha obeyed, clinging to the sandwich and beans like a lifeline. The man was tall and built like an ex football player. Her eyes rested on meaty hands that held the rifle on her. They could just as easily snap her neck like a toothpick.
“So, you’ve been eating out of my garbage, eh?” His tone was unreadable. “And I’ll bet you’ve been living in my shed too?” Her throat was too dry to speak, but he was merciless. He pointed the gun at her again. “Answer me!”
She cringed like a kicked dog, praying he wouldn’t shoot. “Y-yes. I’m sorry.”
“How old are you, kid?”
“Tw-twelve.”
“Shit.” He stared at her for a long time before lowering the gun. “Get your ass in here.”
On quaking legs she followed the man into the house. He led her into a dirty kitchen and had her sit at the table. “Don’t move ‘til
I get back.”
He soon returned with a frayed blanket and wrapped it around her. “Damn, girl, your hands are purple! Wrap em’ up and let’s get some food in ya.” She stared at him in mute awe as he opened the fridge and pulled out two pieces of pizza. He put them in the microwave and poured her a glass of water. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Akasha.”
“I’m Max.”
They stared at each other, silently assessing until the microwave beeped. Max put the steaming plate in front of her. “Not another word ‘til this plate is clean. Got it?”
Her hands tingled from the warmth of the crust. The first bite burned her mouth, but it tasted like heaven itself and she nearly moaned in pleasure of the experience. It had been over two years since she had a hot meal. The first piece of pizza seemed too good to be true. Akasha savored every nibble, chewing slowly, concentrating wholly on the flavor. The second, she devoured like a ravenous beast. The water felt like the elixir of the gods as it slid down her throat.
Max sat across from her and folded his work-worn hands. “Did you run away from home or something? Where are your parents?”
“They died when I was eight. Then I lived in a foster home. The woman was crazy, so I left.” She crossed her arms.
He scratched his beard. “I see. So you’ve been on the streets ever since.”
He was quiet until Akasha finally built up the nerve to speak. “You gonna call the cops?”
“Hell no! I hate cops!”
She was relieved, but only a little. “What are you going to do?”
“Hell if I know. But one thing’s for sure. You’re not gonna freeze your ass off in my shed, so you’ll sleep on the couch. Maybe I’ll figure something out in the morning.”
He provided her with a pillow and blanket. Compared to the frigid wood floor of the shed, the couch was a warm paradise. Exhausted and with a full stomach for the first time in months, she was blissfully comatose until late the next morning. When she awoke, Max cooked her breakfast and again refused to speak to her until she finished every bite.
