Theroen stirred. Two shifted her weight, allowing him to sit up. He looked at Melissa and when he spoke, his voice retained its nearly ever-present calm, but there was deep sympathy in it, and an almost heart-breaking sadness. “A hundred and twenty years, Melissa. It comes and goes like the wind, and I hate myself for all of this, even if you cannot.”
“Don’t.”
Theroen shrugged. It can’t be helped.
“I don’t want her to win, Theroen, but she’s going to.”
Two spoke up. “Does she have to? Is there any other way?”
Theroen answered her. “I don’t know, Two. We have little time to find out.”
“Why?”
“There are two things eating away from our time here, my own desire to leave not included. The first is Samantha. She will wake, soon, and that will force a decision on her fate. A minor matter, perhaps. Perhaps not. The second is Abraham, who has instructed me of his desires. He wants us gone, Two, the sooner the better. As Melissa said, we will not be here another twenty days, but not because of any desire on my part. He says he has grown tired of me. As for Missy, Samantha, Tori; he feels they are his, and when I do leave, it will be without them.”
Melissa made a quiet sobbing noise. She was not looking at them, was instead watching the silent images on the television.
“What if you killed Abraham?” Two stood up, paced back and forth a few times, then looked at Theroen. He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head slightly, said nothing.
“I’m serious. What would happen to you? To Melissa? To Tori and Samantha and me?”
“This is an unwise avenue of discussion.”
“Is he really that powerful? Is it impossible?”
“That and more. Abraham has studied long in vampire lore. He knows very well what he is capable of, and has pushed those boundaries further than perhaps any other living vampire. He revealed a rather startling talent to me last night, unwittingly I think, when he caught your breath. I knew that in close proximity, his power over others’ minds was significant, but I did not know that he could allow you full reign of your thoughts while cutting off access to otherwise involuntary functions. I do now know how to do that, do not know how he did it, and do not know how to fight it.”
“Okay, but suppose somehow he died. We can’t kill him. Fine. But say tomorrow Abraham... I don’t know... gets hit with a nuclear bomb and is turned to ashes. What would happen to us?”
“Us. Very well, Two. On a purely speculative basis -- as what you speak of is simply not a possibility for a wide variety of reasons -- I think I can answer that. What happens when the head of a line dies? It depends on the age of his children, and the type of vampire.
“If you kill an Eresh vampire, his children may be significantly weakened. Certainly any half-vampire he has created will revert to human form. Full vampires may or may not revert, depending on the amount of time that has passed since the change. If someone killed me, Two, you would revert to human form in a matter of weeks. You’ve not been changed nearly long enough for it to ‘stick,’ so to speak.
“If someone, somehow, killed Abraham, the effects would be less drastic. Melissa and I have made the change completely and will not revert. Tori might revert, but I have no way of knowing if her mind would return with her humanity, and at this point the physical changes may not completely fade. It is possible that she would be very strong and very fast, for a human being... comparable perhaps to one of the other vampire strains. There would be no effect on Samantha, or on you, if Abraham was killed.
“So, continuing this interesting but, unfortunately, rather useless line of thought, if Abraham was killed, it would have little effect on the present situation, beyond possibly allowing Samantha the opportunity to return to her normal life, since he would no longer consider her his property.”
Two watched him, frustrated, knowing that he would not lie to her, but unwilling to believe the task was not within some realm of possibility. No guarantees on Melissa, Theroen had said, but would it not at least give them more time to work on the problem?
“It would indeed.” Theroen had picked up her thoughts. “But that in itself is not a guarantee, and an attempt on Abraham’s life would assuredly lead only to the cessation of our own. If Karma exists, I’ve been living on borrowed time since Lisette... died. But I could not bring myself to sacrifice your life so needlessly.”
“We have to do something, Theroen.”
“Yes, we do, but the choice is not ours, Two. We have three options. The first is the easiest. We leave. Melissa, Tori, and Samantha stay. The second: we stay for as long as possible, against Abraham’s will. Melissa is eventually engulfed by Missy, Samantha is kept in a state of half-vampirism indefinitely and is likely warped by Missy’s teachings, Tori continues her mad existence, and eventually Abraham’s evil drives me away. In the interim, there will be little other than despair, and the end result is no different from the first option.
“Then there is the third...”
Melissa had turned to listen to Theroen again, and her eyes said she knew what he was to say. Theroen grimaced, looked at his sister with deep, sad eyes, and continued.
“The third is a possibility that Abraham must at least have guessed at, and is likely fully aware of. Had he expressly forbid it last night, I would have acceded. He did not. He told me only that they were his, and he wished that they remain here. He leaves me to make my own decision on how to interpret that. The third option is that I risk Abraham’s wrath, and slaughter the rest of his line.”
Melissa’s eyes were hard and glassy, but if more sobbing threatened, she held it at bay. She met Theroen’s gaze, her mouth a thin, white line. Two looked between both of them, and at last shook her head.
“No. That’s crazy. There’s a fourth alternative, whether you want to admit it or not, Theroen. The fourth is that we attempt the impossible and try to kill him. We have to!”
It was Melissa who spoke.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Two. I’m going to die. Pick any scenario, and at the end of it, I still die. I’d rather not go with your life, and Theroen’s, on my conscience.”
“But if he dies, maybe Missy will...”
“Disappear? I told you, Two. I’ve known Missy for a very long time now. Abraham woke her up, yes, but she doesn’t mean to be put back to sleep. If I believed there was the slightest chance of that, I might agree with you, but even then probably not. So put it out of your head, now. You’re going to get yourself killed talking like that.”
Theroen waved his hand, dismissing the idea. “Abraham knows the difference between threat and idle speculation. If anything, hearing Two speak in this manner would only amuse him. Were you to attempt it, Two, I do not think he would be particularly upset with you. He would likely welcome the entertainment. He would destroy you, of course, but he would do it smiling.
“We cannot fight him, and even if we could, even if we pulled off the miraculous, what would be the purpose? The inevitable end for those we would be trying to save does not change. It is too much risk for no reward.”
“Well that’s fucking great. I hate all of the choices, Theroen.” Two was beyond anger. Beyond tears. Her voice was hollow, exasperated, depleted of hope. Melissa looked at her with sympathy, as if Two was the true victim.
“I’m not fond of any of them myself. I’m not entirely certain which I would choose, if the choice was mine. It is not. Melissa knows, has known for decades, that it is not. The choice lies with her, and I will abide by her decision, even if she chooses your fourth scenario.”
Melissa sighed, shut her eyes, leaned back against the couch. Tears, tinged pink with blood, slipped down her face, but she did not lose her composure. After a long minute in which Two thought her own heart had ceased to beat, Melissa looked up at the ceiling, and then over at Theroen. Her face was hard, and rage danced behind her eyes. Rage at them? Rage at Abraham? Rage at the situation? Two could not tell.
“I want a promise.”
“Anything, Melissa.”
“Take Samantha with you. Don’t leave her here for him to pervert. I know it goes against what he asked, but he can’t care that much. She’s just a human. Promise me you’ll take her, Theroen, and get her home. You can make her forget. Will you promise?”
“You have my word, Melissa.”
“Good. Then I want you to kill me. I’d rather you than her. Kill me, and kill Tori, and when Abraham rages, spit in his fucking face and tell him it’s from me.”
* * *
It had been twenty minutes since Melissa had departed, and Two still felt numb. There had been little more in the way of conversation after Melissa’s choice. She had asked Theroen when, and he had said only “Not yet.”
Melissa had nodded, and left to hunt. The expression on her face was dark and distant, and Two did not envy whomever Melissa might choose as a victim.
Theroen sighed, stood, turned off the television. He turned to Two, his face set in its typical expression. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” Two admitted. “But I think if I drink right now, I’m never going to be able to stop crying. How can it be like this, Theroen? Why aren’t there more choices?”
“Abraham makes it so. His age, his power, his will. There is something I neglected to mention to Melissa, something which makes me willing to risk his wrath and do as she asks. He believes he has found a way to make more children... to circumvent the process of the Eresh blood that eventually prevents us from creating any further fledglings. Our blood becomes too powerful, and our offspring go mad. Eventually they simply die from the shock.
“Through great study, and watching your progression, Abraham believes he may be able to dilute his blood and, by doling it out in minute increments over a lengthy period of time, create some sort of sane fledgling.
“I left this out because Melissa does not need to know. It is bad enough that she will eventually be engulfed by Missy, let alone that she will eventually become useless to Abraham entirely. When that happens, Abraham’s natural instinct will be to butcher Melissa, Tori, and Samantha without a second thought. Whatever death I can offer Melissa will be much better than anything Abraham might prepare.”
“God, Theroen. How can you talk about this? How can you be this... this...”
“This cold? I have been contemplating it for decades, Two, as I have said. Melissa’s fate is of great importance to me. I wish I could provide her with more choices. I wish I could save her, but I don’t know how. Every emotional fiber of my being screams against the decisions that are being made here. But I don’t know what else to do.
“The young man whose body I occupy is still here, somewhere, Two. Vampires do not age as human beings do, and the hot blood of youth is still very close to the surface in me. I simply have centuries of practice in controlling it. That young man rages against this. He would try your impossible deed, if I let him.
“I have firsthand experience, awful beyond description, that vampires of my age and power can be killed easily by their elders. Lisette’s destruction came at the hands of a vampire only a few hundred years her senior, and that vampire lived only ten more years before Abraham destroyed him. It has been centuries since those events, and Abraham has only grown more powerful. If we challenge him, we will die.”
Two opened her mouth to reply to this, when a scream, long and wailing, echoed from somewhere below them. She shut her mouth with a snap, eyes wide, looking at the floor.
“Samantha awakens,” said Theroen.
* * *
It was Two who went down to see the girl. She requested it, and Theroen had simply held his palms up to the air. Be my guest. Two wondered if he sometimes understood her motivations better than she did herself. Two did not know why she needed to talk to this half-vampire woman whom she had never met. Two only knew that it felt right, and after a life guided mainly by instinct, she had learned largely to trust such feelings.
She knew the girl could hear her footsteps, coming down the long stone staircase. She could sense a sudden panic, could hear the already rushed breathing speed to a near hysterical pace. She spoke into the darkness. “I’m not going to hurt you, Samantha.”
The panic broke, at that, and the voice at the end of the hall began running like water. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s happening to me? Where am I? Help me! Where are you? You have to help me!”
Two could see the bars lining the wall, could see the form behind them, on its knees, shuddering. Samantha was wearing a pair of jeans and a loose silk blouse. No socks, no shoes. Two tried to remember waking up in that cell. Only a few weeks ago. It seemed forever.
“I’m going to light a candle. There’s one down here. Everything’s going to be okay. You’re fine, and I’m here to help. Try to relax, if you can. It will be better for you.”
The girl lapsed into gulping, panicky breaths, staring out into what Two realized must be, for her, total blackness. Two could see the candle on a small table by the cell, a box of matches sitting beside it. She struck one, and held it to the wick. The flame glowed and flickered, casting enough light that Samantha was able to pinpoint Two’s whereabouts. She scurried down the length of the bars, pressed up against them, held her hand out. “Help me! Help me!”
Two sat on the floor and took her hand. The pressure would have been hard enough to hurt, if Two were still human. She wondered at this. It wasn’t the major aspects of vampirism that continued to astound her, but rather the small revelations.
“Samantha. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not hurt.”
“I feel wrong. Help me!”
Two laughed a bit at that. “Yes, I imagine you do. Can you take the facts straight, Samantha? Or do I have to dance around them until you calm down?”
Her matter-of-fact tone was working. Samantha closed her eyes and, with visible effort, forced herself to breath deeply, to get control of herself. Her grip on Two’s hand loosened slightly.
“Just tell me,” She said after a moment. “It can’t be any worse than sitting in the dark alone, wondering what the hell is going on. All I could think of was Silence of the Lambs.”
“How much do you remember?”
“Not much. I remember some chick in a leather jacket kept smiling at me at the club, and that I couldn’t stop looking at her. Look, I’m not normally into that, you know? But there was something about her, and you only live once, right? I remember finally getting up to go talk to her... and then I woke up in this fucking hole.”
Two nodded. “Okay, well, here it comes. When you don’t believe it, I’ll prove it to you. But I’ll tell you first. Last night you came home with a vampire named Missy. You uh... hooked up with her, and she bit you, and drained a bunch of your blood. Normally you wouldn’t remember this, but she decided to give you some of her blood in return. Since she didn’t drain you all the way, you’re not completely a vampire yet, but you’re about halfway there. After that it gets... complicated.”
The girl was silent for a long time. Her response, when it came, didn’t surprise Two much.
“What?”
“I know it sounds hard to believe...”
“Hard to believe?” Samantha gave a tiny, hysterical laugh. “Hard to fucking believe? I pass out somewhere, and I wake up in a fucking prison, and some random chick comes down and tells me that I’m in some fucking Brad Pitt movie, and it’s only ‘hard to believe?’ It’s fucking impossible!”
“Not impossible. Trust me.”
Samantha pulled her hand from Two’s gripped the bars, stared out at her, furious. “Listen, you crazy bitch, I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what the fuck hallucinations you’re having. I don’t care how many crazy people there are in this house. Tell me where the fuck I am, and then let me go. Right now.”
Two felt anger for a moment, and forced herself to react as Theroen would. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, they were calm.
“Samantha...”
“Sam. Everyone calls m
e Sam.”
“Sam. Get up. Go look in that mirror on the wall. You couldn’t see it in the dark, but I know from experience that the candle’s more light than your eyes need, now. Go look, and tell me how hard it is to believe.”
Samantha stared at her for a moment, then curled her lip in defiance and stood up. She took two quick strides over to the mirror and peered into it. Her reaction was immediate, and very similar to what Two’s had been. She flinched back, stumbled, fell backwards, crying out: “Jesus!”
What had Theroen said? Jesus has nothing to do with this.
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
Two watched as Samantha covered her face with her hands and wept.
The Blood The Bonds Page 20
