by Noelle Ryan
“Sheesh, somebody’s super-powers are all in bunch,” I murmured, then hopped out and followed him up the long stone stairway.
We were greeted at the door by a beautiful, lithe woman who looked to be in her early thirties. She had straight blond hair that seemed completely untouched by the frizziness the Ohio Valley humidity inflicted on most women, which caused me instant envy—until I remembered the way my own frizziness had apparently disappeared.
“Valerie,” Tom said, giving her a light peck on the cheek. “This is Aly.”
“Of course.” She looked at me, smiling warmly, and I found myself liking her almost instantly. Cautious, I threw up the same mental shield I’d used against Tom earlier—it came somewhat more easily this time, thank goodness—but the warmth barely changed. Her lips did, though, quirking into a smile.
“I wasn’t trying to will you into liking me—I’m genuinely delighted to meet you,” she said.
“Then it's nice to meet you, Valerie.” I extended my hand and returned her warm smile. “I’d say ‘I’ve heard so much about you’ but, to be honest, Tom has barely said a word.”
She grinned. “Please, follow me. Damian is in the sitting room.”
The sitting room turned out to be quite cozy, with leather furniture in warm earth tones and a stylishly carved wooden coffee table. The furnishings were clearly expensive yet not ostentatious. They made me want to curl up on them with a good book. Damian was sitting in the far corner of the room, reading. His aquiline nose, thick eyebrows, and slightly curling dark-brown hair, along with the faint olive undertone to his skin, led me to conclude he must be from somewhere in the Mediterranean. He stood a moment after we entered, crossing the room to clasp my hand, and I was surprised to notice that he was actually shorter than me by a couple inches, putting him around 5’6”.
“Alyson,” he purred, “so lovely to meet you at last.”
“Nice to meet you too, Damian.” I shook his hand, and then moved back half a step, puzzled by the sensuality that poured out of his mocha eyes like water. Valerie and Tom both began to laugh. After briefly looking surprised, Damian joined them.
“Excuse me, but what exactly am I missing?” I asked.
“Oh, forgive me.” Valerie paused to stifle a giggle. “It’s just that it’s probably been a good five decades since I’ve seen anyone resist the infamous Damian Valkanas in full charm, and you did it so easily.”
“I’m sorry?” I said.
“I have a particular talent for seduction.” Damian interjected, giving me a smoldering look that succeeded only in making me wince. “It works on both humans and vampires, and when I turn it on I’m more used to people swooning than stepping back with mildly appalled looks on their faces.” He chuckled again. “I hope you’ll forgive me my little experiment—I just wanted to see for myself whether Thomas was exaggerating your talents. He clearly wasn’t.”
“I see,” I said, moving back another step from all of them and crossing my arms. “So first Tom decides to try a few experiments with my mental control. Then you run a little test to see if I’ll fall into your arms. Did either of you bother considering how it might affect me if I’d attempted to attack someone or made a fool of myself by jumping some man I’d just met? Do you do this to everyone you turn, or am I just lucky?”
Damian flashed Tom a look that I couldn’t quite read.
“You didn’t tell her?”
“No, sire,” Tom said. “I was getting ready to when you called.” His words mimed obedience, but his tone was cold. Damian, however, either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“I see. Let’s have a seat then, shall we? Valerie, Thomas, maybe it would be best if you left us for a few minutes.” He gestured me to the couch, returning to the corner seat he’d occupied when we first came in. He steepled his fingers in front of his face for a few seconds, staring at them. Then, abruptly, he looked up at me.
“Do you remember your great-grandmother Dorothy?”
I blinked rapidly, wondering if I'd heard him correctly.
“No,” I said eventually, “she died when I was a couple years old.”
“I see. That’s unfortunate. She was a lovely woman with tremendous psychic gifts, most especially clairsentience.”
“Clairsentience.” I paused. “So that would be what, like clairvoyance but applying to other senses?”
Damian gave me the classic happy teacher look. God, it was patronizing. I resolved to make sure I never gave it to my students again.
“Yes, precisely,” he said. “Clairvoyance is more common; people with that gift are visual and usually see images of events that are about to occur. Clairsentients, however, are slightly rarer, and their psychic experiences are generally felt in more tactile ways. And sometimes this feeling simply occurs as knowledge, without any clear sense to tie it to.”
I remembered the icy chill that had run down my back in the alley just before the door buckled, and the certainty that Ava was calling me before the phone rang.
“Your great-grandmother,” Damian continued, oblivious to my now racing thoughts, “was an especially talented clairsentient, and I have been watching all her descendents for signs of her gift. You are the first to have shown these signs.”
“Wait. You’re saying you knew my great-grandmother? And that you’ve been spying on me and my relatives for decades?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it? No explanation? No consideration for our privacy?”
“Dorothy asked it of me.” He shrugged. “I did not find myself in a position to say no.”
“And what, exactly, does that mean?”
“Dorothy and I were friends.” He paused, and glanced away. “More than friends, to be precise. I loved her dearly, and I believe she had genuine feelings for me, but she adored her children above all else.”
“Whoa, now you’re saying my great-grandmother had a freaking vampire lover?” That mental image did not mesh with the few black-and-white pictures of her that I’d seen, white haired with thick glasses, smiling softly for the camera.
Damian chuckled.
“I suppose someone from modern times might phrase it that way, yes,” he said. “I cared for her, and, when she realized what I was, she asked that I look after her children, and her children’s children—and that I specifically keep an eye on anyone who showed a predisposition for her gifts. She faced a great deal of hardship due to her clairsentience, and she wanted to shield her children from some of that if she could.”
“And so Tom was in my class to, what, keep an eye on me? Make sure I wasn’t having psychic seizures in the middle of the day, or getting burned at the stake for witch-craft?”
Damian smiled.
“No, his primary job was to protect you from any vampires that might have been hunting you.”
“Like the one he killed yesterday,” I said, stifling my urge to make sarcastic comments on what a fine job he’d obviously done protecting me, given what I now was.
“Yes.”
“And I would be of interest to other vampires because…?”
“Because by draining you they would acquire your gifts, gifts that would then be amplified by their vampirism. It has quite the appeal to the power hungry.”
“So…you’re saying my great-grandmother was a clairsentient, I’m a clairsentient, I was being hunted by at least one vampire and spied on by a few more, and now I’m a vampire and that vampirism is heightening my abilities?”
“Both physical and metaphysical, yes.”
I slumped back against the couch, stunned. I’d thought securing tenure was going to be the most stressful thing about the next few years. Then it struck me like a slap: I was a freak, a clairsentient newborn vampire surrounded by spies and likely more than one would-be assassin. For the first time since their death four years earlier, I felt relieved that my parents were already gone—at least they’d never have to know what I’d become.
Before I could slip too far into my puddle of self-pity, though, the familiar fe
eling of ice trickling down my spine sent me jolting upright.
“Alyson? What is it?”
I stared at Damian, not exactly sure how to explain.
“I think we’re about to have company,” I whispered. Another three chills slid down my skin. “Four. Out back. They’ll come through the windows.”
Instantly, he was on his feet, calling for Tom and Valerie. They rushed in, and Damian looked at Valerie. “Call Luis and Samuel, and tell them to hurry. Then meet me in the kitchen.” He glanced at Tom. “Make sure she remains safe.”
“What—“ Tom began, but then we heard glass shattering at the other end of the house. Damian disappeared out the door Valerie had just left through. Tom grabbed my wrist.
“Come on, we’ll be safer in the crypt.”
I knew it wasn’t the time, but I couldn’t help myself. The hysteria that had been building since Damian had told me about Dorothy bubbled up, unstoppable, and I began giggling maniacally.
“A crypt?” More giggling. “You…seriously…have…a…crypt?”
I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face. Tom, I suppose realizing that his tugs on my wrist were accomplishing nothing, stepped close and simply scooped me up, carrying me like a child.
Still giggling, I snuggled into his chest. “Here crypty cryptic crypt. Your newest vampire is coming to you,” I crooned in a singsong voice.
Tom’s chest began shaking with what felt suspiciously like suppressed laughter. “If this is you losing it,” he said, “I think I might actually prefer it to your twenty questions approach. This one is more entertaining.” His gait shifted as he began carrying me down a narrow curved stairway.
I growled at him, then poked him in the arm. “You were spying on me, you sneaky little vamp. You are so getting a D this semester.”
He laughed again, setting me down on a velvet couch that was in a dark red room with no windows. “Seriously, crimson and velvet?” I said, “why don’t you just post a sign that says ‘secret vampire room, no garlic allowed’?”
Tom was about to respond when we both heard a yelp, and suddenly I remembered that while shock had been turning me into a slap-happy toddler, Damian and Valerie were fighting off intruders. My hysteria disappeared, and I stood up and began pacing.
“They’ll be fine,” Tom said. “They’ve been fighting together for almost a century, and Luis and Sam are sure to have arrived by now.”
I looked at him dubiously.
“Truly Aly, I promise. It wasn’t even really necessary to bring you out of the sitting room—I’m sure whoever it is will never get that far—but I knew Damian would be irked if I had left you there.”
“Alright, if you say—” I was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass, and then a high-pitched scream.
“Valerie!” Tom ran for the door, then spun abruptly. “Lock this door behind me. If anyone breaks in, hit them with the silver nitrate—it’s in that bottle in the china cabinet. It won’t kill them, it will just knock them unconscious for half an hour. Just be careful not to splash any on yourself.”
“Why don’t you take it then?”
He was halfway up the stairs already. “Too risky in a group—lock that door!”
And then I was alone in a room that looked like it had been decorated by an Anne Rice wannabe, curled up on the couch with a bottle of liquid silver, staring at the door. I heard wood splintering, a muffled grunt, and then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor directly above my head. My hand clenched tighter around the bottle, the glass edges digging into my palm. A few seconds later, after the whispered sound of light feet moving fast on wooden floors, there were another two thumps from further away. I got up and began pacing again in the narrow strip between the couch and the china cabinet, keeping my eye on the door.
And then I heard steps on the stairs. OhshitOhshitOhshit. I wrapped my hand around the neck of the bottle, prepared to fling it the second the door opened. I heard the click of the tumblers shifting, and then a dark-haired head peered around the doorway. All he had the chance to say was “Alyson?” before the bottle hit him in the face, shattering, and he dropped to the floor.
I shrunk back against the wall. I’d sensed four of them; what if another one made its way down the stairs? I hadn’t seen any more silver nitrate, and I suspected my eight weeks of self-defense training weren’t likely to stand up against whoever had made Valerie scream like that. I pushed myself further against the wall, wondering if I could somehow will myself into invisibility the way I’d willed Ava into believing my atrocious lie. Be invisible, be invisible, be invisible, I chanted to myself, feeling ridiculous and desperately hopeful simultaneously.
“Luis? Luis, did you find Alyson?” It was Damian’s voice, coming from the top of the stairs and getting closer. At least he was okay. My shoulders slowly relaxed. “Luis, what happened? Is she okay? Oh—” his voice cut off abruptly, and his feet stopped. “Alyson, are you in there? Did you throw silver at Luis?”
I could feel my face reddening. Oh yeah, I was definitely shaping up to be quite the super-heroine. “Um, I didn’t know who he was, and Tom told me to…sorry,” I trailed off.
To my surprise, Damian simply laughed. What was with these guys? I was starting to wonder if they valued me primarily as a source of amusement.
“No, it’s fine, he’ll just wake up with a bit of a hangover. Thomas didn’t tell me he’d shown you the bottled silver, but I should have guessed. None of us should go near the area until it’s dried completely, though, just to be safe. I’ll send someone down with some towels.”
I slid down to the floor, relieved. Surely Damian couldn’t have sounded so casual if Valerie had been seriously injured. A few minutes later I heard Tom’s voice calling “heads up” and a couple towels sailed into the room.
“Toss those onto any wet spots on your side and I’ll handle the stairs. Try to get any spots on Luis, too, if you can reach him safely—it might help to lessen his headache later on.”
“Got it.” I swiped one towel across the splatters on the floor and draped the other over Luis, careful not to let any of the damp creep to my skin. I’d just finished when Tom stuck his head around the door.
“Don’t shoot, I come in peace,” he said, holding his hands in the air.
“Are you usually this frightened by unarmed women?”
“Nope, just you.” Tom grinned.
“I take it Valerie wasn’t hurt badly then?”
Tom rolled his eyes. “Trust her to scream bloody murder because someone broke her favorite antique mirror. After that, they were pretty much toast—Valerie is not someone I recommend ticking off.”
I couldn’t imagine screaming like that over a mirror; she must really take her shopping seriously. I made a mental note not to scuff up any of their furniture.
“So who were they?”
“We’re not sure, but Damian suspects they were here for you; he’s questioning one of them now to be certain.”
Tom reached his hand out to help me over Luis as he said this, but I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go upstairs and confront the sight of dead bodies and Damian torturing someone, even if he had attacked us.
“I’m sorry” I stopped, unsure what I was trying to say. “I was just a disorganized lit professor with a knack for knowing who was calling me a few days ago, and now…” I shook my head, staring at the floor. “I guess I’m not handling this as well as I’d thought. What the hell is going to happen to my life? How can I carry on teaching and writing articles as if nothing has changed? What if someone notices something? What if some other vampire comes after me in the middle of class, with a room full of students watching? If I was the cause of one of my students getting hurt, I could never forgive myself.” I clenched my fists, oddly comforted by the pain of my fingernails digging into my palm.
Tom stepped over Luis carefully, and picked up my right hand. Slowly he uncurled my fingers, one by one. Then, watching my face carefully, he brought my hand to
his mouth, gently kissing each of the pale crescents my nails had carved. My arm trembled and my skin went from fire to ice and back again. My other hand slowly uncurled on its own, and I took a step forward, until my head was only inches from his chest.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. I wasn't sure why, but I believed him.
Six
“So you’re the one I can blame for having to listen to Luis whine and complain for the next day or two, huh?” The newest vampire had mahogany hair, hazel eyes, and a faint accent I couldn’t yet place.
“I take it you’re Samuel?”
“At your service.” He bowed, swirling his hand in a mock courtly gesture. “But I hope you’re not as formal as Damian—you can just call me Sam.”
I nodded while glancing around the room. I was surprised to see that, other than an empty picture hook on the wall, there was no sign the room had just held a massive fight. What it did hold, however, was an impressive amount of open and tastefully decorated space. The mix of couches, chairs, and small tables, combined with the open access to the kitchen, made me fairly certain that Damian and Valerie did a lot of entertaining in this spot. Valerie walked back in just as I’d finished my sweep of the room, looking mildly perturbed.
“I heard about your mirror. Sorry,” I said.
“Whatever for? You didn’t invite those tasteless idiots into our home.”
“I know, but Tom mentioned they were probably here because of me.”
Valerie waved her hand as if swatting a fly. “Better here than at your place, if that’s the case. And there’s no point speculating when Damian will have the truth of it soon enough.”
I grimaced at the reminder that someone was presumably being tortured nearby.
“How,” I paused. “Not that I want to know the details—I don’t—but how will you know the information he gets is the truth, rather than just something made up to stop the pain?”
“The pain?” Valerie looked at me. “Oh, he’s not torturing her. He’s seducing her. Like most young vamps, she doesn’t have the resistance you displayed earlier—she’ll tell him anything he wants to know.”
