Dante's Awakening

by Devon Marshall

  “Then I’ll deal with those if and when I need to. And if I have to, I can always call on you guys here for help. You know, something struck me…” Lois gazed out through my living room window at the smog-enshrouded vista of LA below us… “If the vampires are so concerned about Robin and the Children of Judas outing them, why are they not so concerned about the humans who already know about them? I mean, what’s to stop any one of us from doing the same?”

  “You’ve met the vampires. Would you out them?” I asked.

  Lois thought about that, gave an uneasy laugh and shook her head. “Hell, no. I like being alive and relatively in one piece.”

  Exactly.

  Something else nagged me about Lois Bartlett. Just before our date she had touched my wrist with her fingertips, and I had received a fleeting sense of her emotions. I thought it had something to do with my recent ingestion of Ellis’s blood, but now I wondered. I had touched plenty of people since and not once felt what I had with Lois. On impulse I grabbed her hand, held onto it.

  I felt regret, sadness, anger, shame and confusion.

  Lois eyed me dubiously. “Dante, what are you doing?” she asked.

  I let go of her hand, suddenly self-conscious. “You didn’t feel that?” I asked her, but she only frowned harder at me and shook her head.

  Why did I only seem to be able to get this sense of Lois Bartlett’s emotions? Why did it not work with anyone else? More fucking questions. Lois was staring at me and I forced a smile. “It’s nothing,” I said, waving it off. “Probably just an effect of the vampire blood.”

  Color rushed into her face. “I’d just as soon not talk about any of that,” she stammered.

  Well, now I knew Voshki’s blood definitely had the same electrifying, erotic effect on her.

  Before she left my home and LA for the final time, I told her that the studio really would be paying for Cherie Dunlop’s funeral. I also confessed that it wouldn’t be out of any sense of responsibility or care for the poor woman. It would simply be expedient.

  “Movie People, huh?” Lois said.

  I shrugged. Yeah. Movie People.

  “You know, Dante, I really did like you,” Lois said then, and I noted her use of the past tense. That stung. “It would’ve been nice if we had met under different circumstances.”

  “Without the vampires to mess things up,” I said. She nodded. I gave a silent sigh as I looked, probably for the last time ever, into those gorgeous waterfall-blue eyes of hers. Damn. What a shame. “Take care of yourself, Lois.”

  She gave me a wink. “You too.”

  Then she left, and I made sure to take a lingering look at her ass as it walked out the door because I wanted to imprint it on my memory.

  The traitorous Samson disappeared from Voshki’s employ. I didn’t ask what became of him. Truthfully, I didn’t care. A new driver-cum-whatever-don’t-ask appeared in his place. A tall, witch-skinny guy with blonde hair and a tan, named Oliver. He told me to call him Ollie. I managed not to laugh at the idea of a vampire named Ollie. It was even more ridiculous than Robin. Ollie seemed like a nice enough sort, though. Ellis did laugh when I mentioned Ollie’s seeming nice to her. She told me I might not want to see the other side of Nice Ollie then. I really need to bear in mind at all times that vampires have two very different sides to their personalities.

  Armin Bedrosian became my driver and bodyguard. I have never been comfortable around Armin, and the days he spent shadowing me did nothing to resolve my unease. Perversely, though, I did feel safer for his presence. He was as loyal as a dog to Voshki, and if she told him to protect me, he would do so with his very life. His presence at my home led to an interesting encounter between him and Lydia when she came by with news of a new maybe-star that needed the kind of representation I could provide. Someone who would remove that maybe and make him a definite star. Before the encounter with Armin, however, Lydia and I talked a bit about The Right Guy, and the events surrounding the shoot. I eventually told my friend the full story. Including the blood drinking and Ellis’s rare temper tantrum.

  “Vampires are possessive. You knew that,” was her casual response.

  “Yeah, but it was kinda scary,” I argued.

  Lydia frowned. “So? Scary can also be hot as fuck.”

  Typical Lydia. Look on the bright side, and if you can’t find a bright side, look on the dirty-sexy side then. She asked what had I done about Caitlin Harris and her attempt to commit career suicide.

  “Did you ask why she did it?”

  I shook my head. “I advised her to quit spreading the rumors before Voshki found out. She said that I’d never understand why she had been doing it and I told her she was right. Then I left. Beyond that, I find I have precious little desire to know what might be going on in Caitlin’s head.”

  “And what did you tell Vosh about it?”

  This time I shrugged. “That whoever it was must have left the shoot. The rumors stopped. She was happy enough with that. And you, my sweet, helped by massaging the investor’s insecurities.”

  Lydia beamed without pretense at modesty. “I am good at that, aren’t I? Five husbands will teach you some interesting life skills.”

  Voshki was indeed happy enough to know the rumors had stopped, although I think she suspected that I knew more than I was saying.

  As Lydia was leaving, Armin returned from patrolling the grounds, and the two met in the downstairs foyer. Lydia stopped cold in her tracks. I saw her eyes widen, her pupils dilate and a faint flush infuse her neck.

  “Well…hello. And where has Dante been hiding you?” she purred.

  Armin smiled. He actually smiled. I was stunned. I don’t think I’d ever seen Armin smile before. It made him almost handsome. In an Undead, psychopath way. I saw something flit through his dark, cold eyes could have been mutual interest, or maybe he’d just had a really big taco lunch and was passing gas.

  “Lydia Diamond,” he rumbled. The smile spread outwards. White teeth glinted in the soft light of the foyer. I knew I was staring, and I didn’t care. This was history in the making right here. Armin Bedrosian smiling at a human. He extended a hand to my friend and she slipped her gnarly little paw into his, smiling and tilting her head at him in a coquettish way that made me cringe and marvel all at once. Lydia is usually as much of a barracuda in the bedroom as she is in the boardroom. It’s why she’s had five husbands.

  “Your reputation precedes you, but does not do you justice,” the vampire intoned. I thought he sounded like a bad Bela Lugosi, but Lydia was entranced. He wasn’t even glamouring her. Then he actually raised Lydia’s hand to his lips and delicately kissed the backs of her fingers whilst she giggled and made eyes at him. I figured I wouldn’t be eating for the rest of the day. Maybe not ever again. “A pleasure to make your personal acquaintance at last. Armin Bedrosian. At your service.”

  I swear he clicked his heels together.

  “Well. My, my.” Apparently meeting this vampire had created a rare verbal constipation in my best friend. She practically simpered. Neither was she in any hurry to rescue her mitt from Armin’s. I was definitely going to yak very soon.

  “I would be honored if you would have lunch with me sometime, Lydia,” Armin offered.

  “Oh. Yes. Definitely,” Lydia stuttered. She beamed. Roses that had nothing to do with gin were blossoming in her cheeks.

  Armin bowed as he finally relinquished Lydia’s hand to her. She looked at it like maybe she was contemplating never washing it again. “Then I shall most assuredly call you very soon,” Armin promised. He stepped aside to allow us both to pass. To me he added, “I’ll be right here for the rest of the day, Dante.”

  I nodded. “Sure. Fine, Armin. Whatever.” I walked with Lydia to her car. She had left it parked haphazardly in the middle of my driveway. Most of the time Lydia has a driver to ferry her around because rarely is she sober enough to risk the angry bull-charge that is downtown LA rush hour traffic. Hence her driving skills are interesting, to say
the least

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  Lydia blinked at me. “Wow,” she said. She leaned toward me, eyes all a-glitter in a way made me worry about her for maybe the first time ever. “He is utterly gorgeous! Where did you find him?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t find him. I guess Voshki did. He’s her…right-hand man. Some such thing. I don’t ask too many questions when it comes to Armin. He scares me, frankly. You really like him?”

  Lydia gave me a look that suggested not liking Armin would be akin to hating puppies and babies. “He’s delicious,” she purred. She waved a be-ringed hand in the air in front of her nose. “Sort of a pumped-up Bela Lugosi crossed with Robert Davi.”

  Jeez, please. I held the door of Lydia’s two-seater sports coupe for her. “You need a drink, or therapy, Lyd,” I sighed. She climbed into the car, fished in her cavernous purse for the keys. “But hey, whatever makes you happy. Just be careful with him, okay? He belongs to Voshki.”

  Lydia winked at me. “Darling, I am always careful with my toys, and I think we both know that Vosh is a sport about sharing hers!” And she sped off, leaving me fighting a grin.

  As far as my own romantic entanglements were going, Ellis and I had pretty much become exclusive. We hadn’t exactly moved in together, but we were spending a good deal of our spare time either at her place or mine. Most often it was mine because there were less vampires. Ellis lives in a guesthouse on the grounds of Voshki’s architecturally schizophrenic home. I had started to accept that either I really was in love with Ellis, or heading down that road at a rapid clip. Where the whole thing would end up at, I didn’t know, and I wasn’t thinking too hard about it for now either. I wanted to just enjoy the ride. Didn’t stop me from occasionally daydreaming about Voshki though. And occasionally night-dreaming about her too. XXX-rated dreams.

  Voshki and the Council worked closely to weed out as many of the remaining Children of Judas as they could find, using information gleaned from Samson. Many of the ginger-heads went to ground, however, including the erstwhile Mayor of Holly Bush Junction and his uptight Bostonian wife. Of Robin Shepherd there was no sign either. She had vanished completely off the grid. I had a feeling that sooner or later she would resurface. I just hoped she did so someplace far from me.

  Sometimes in life we get what we wish for and wish we hadn’t, and other times we don’t get what we wish for and wish we had.

  It was a Wednesday afternoon when Robin Shepherd came crashing into my life once more. I had left Armin at home, insisting that he needn’t accompany me to visit a friend who lived just a few blocks away, and he reluctantly agreed, but only after consulting with Voshki for so long it nearly made me late. I approached my car where I’d left it parked on the street outside of my friend’s home and fished my keys out of my pocket. As I did so I was thinking about taking Ellis out to dinner, and exactly what the protocol was for a dinner date with your vampire girlfriend. Distracted by these thoughts, I didn’t catch the quick flash of movement behind me until it was too late. Robin slammed me up against my own car.

  “Hello, Dante.”

  I fought to suck in some of the air pushed out of my lungs by the sudden meeting of solid metal and soft flesh. Then I turned around slowly, still crouched over, one arm clutching my midriff. I glared at the Child of Judas, although, with my eyes watering in pain and my face all red from the exertion of just trying to breathe, the effect was less than the intimidating I’d been going for.

  “Get the fuck away from me,” I wheezed.

  Robin grinned. I managed to notice once again that smiling made her cute and mentally kicked myself. She wore wraparound shades with black lenses, so I figured the Children of Judas must have the same problems with sunlight as other vampires. For just a second she tipped them down with a finger and I saw her vivid green eyes mocking me.

  “So brave,” she cooed. She pushed the glasses back up her nose and wagged the same finger at me. “So stupid.”

  I wasn’t afraid. There were a couple good reasons for this. Both of them were silver. The Children of Judas have another little problem—with silver. It burns their skin like a hot knife on butter. It was part of God’s curse laid upon them, a suitable punishment to reflect the thirty pieces of silver their infernal father sold God’s son out for. After my last encounter with Robin, Ellis had presented me with a solid silver ring and a silver chain to match.

  “It doesn’t mean we’re engaged or anything,” she’d joked as she slipped the ring onto my finger. Still, I’d got a funny, confusing little flutter in my stomach watching her do so, especially as she put it on the third finger of my left hand. The silver would protect me from any Children of Judas that might turn up again.

  I gave Robin a hard stare. “I’m told you guys don’t care for silver.” I showed her the ring on my finger and the pendant around my neck.

  Her upper lip drew back. I saw a glint of fang. “I could probably still kill you before that crap burned me enough to even hurt,” she threatened.

  I held both hands out at my sides, palms up, inviting her to try. She hesitated and I grinned at her in triumph. “What the fuck do you want, Robin? You played your hand, you lost.”

  “Maybe I still have an ace up my sleeve.”

  I couldn’t tell whether she was bluffing or not. She gave me that cute smile and told me she liked this new bold me. Then she added, “Too bad it isn’t going to do you the slightest bit of good.”

  And she grabbed my left hand and twisted it. Hard. She kept twisting until I was forced onto my knees. The pain was incredible. Only a misguided butch stubbornness prevented me from screaming aloud. I should have. I should have screamed like a fucking banshee and drawn as much attention as I could. People screaming on the leafy, litter-less streets of Bel Air’s upmarket residential areas tend to draw attention in spades.

  I heard the faint sizzle of burning flesh. Then I smelled it, like bacon fat spilled on a hot stovetop. The ring was burning Robin, and yet still she held on.

  “There are things you don’t know…about the vampires, about yourself,” she told me. Her voice was cold, without inflection. I felt oddly compelled to listen to what she said even through my own pain, and it was considerable. Robin was moments away from breaking my wrist. “I am going to bring the Promise of Darkness to fruition. There will be war. You, Dante, will need to choose a side. I hope you choose the right side. I hope you realize who is worth being loyal to, and who will simply use you, then screw you over and dump your drained-out, dead carcass for the vultures to pick clean.”

  That was some imagery I could do without.

  Robin gave my wrist a sharp jerk to the left. The sound of bone grinding against bone set my teeth on edge, made me want to pass out, and sadly, I thought I might hear that sound in my nightmares for a long time to come. Starbursts of color dotted the sidewalk in front of me. Robin reached down with her free hand and grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. Her mouth curved in a cruel smile. “Do you recall that I told you how you are a very special human?” she asked.

  I was taken aback but I managed a nod. I thought perhaps if I kept her talking, she might forget to snap my wrist in two and I could escape with merely the worst sprain ever.

  “Your ability to resist our glamouring and mind reading, the way you probably reacted to Voshki feeding you, or even why so many of us are attracted to you in the powerful way we are…do you wonder how that can be?” she asked.

  I nodded again. I’d been meaning to ask Voshki about it. The time just hadn’t seemed right yet. She was busy, I was busy. Blah blah blah. Apparently Robin was going to tell me now.

  “It’s because you have vampire blood, Dante.”

  To say this was a shock is to commit a heinous understatement. My mind reeled away from the very possibility. Somehow I knew instinctively that Robin did not simply mean I had vampire blood from drinking a few times from Voshki and Ellis. She meant I was part vampire myself. I stared at her, at the smirk twistin
g her lips, at the dark blanks of the sunglasses, and suddenly I needed to see her eyes. I needed to know she was telling me the truth and not just fucking with me.

  “Take those glasses off,” I rasped.

  Robin let go of my chin and removed the glasses from her face. I looked into her vivid green eyes. My stomach roiled. “How can I possibly have vampire blood?” I pronounced slowly.

  “Your ancestry holds the answer to that question,” Robin answered. “In your lineage is someone who had children to a vampire man. Vampire females can’t get pregnant at all, but our males can impregnate human females. The offspring are born human but they can be sired easily. It’s how we replenish our bloodlines, so to speak. Just siring through blood exchange and killing a human isn’t always enough to keep things fresh. However, some born of the pairing elect to remain human, and sometimes there are residual effects on those humans. The ability to resist glamouring and mind reading, for example. And heightened reactions to feeding from a full vampire.”

  I felt light-headed, nauseous, the urge to just lie down on the sidewalk for a while until my confusion cleared nearly overwhelming. I shook my head at Robin.

  “Who was the vampire? You know, don’t you? And why are you telling me this anyway?”

  She shrugged. “It’s time for you to know. You need to know the whole story before you choose your side in the coming war. As for the who, I suggest asking your mother about your lineage, Dante.”

  “My mother?” I began. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—Argh!”

  Robin gave my wrist a final hard jerk to the left and I heard…I felt…bone snap and tendons give way.

  As Robin released me from her vice grip, I sank to the sidewalk, and there I lay, my broken wrist clutched to my chest, letting the waves of agony roll over me. Robin repeated, “Ask your mother. I’ll see you again sometime.” Then she walked calmly away. I heard a car door open and close and a powerful engine start up. After that I heard nothing for a while except the roaring of the pain in my wrist and the faint, far-off wail of a siren.