“It feels wrong.”
“Everything is going to feel wrong for some times, I think. We must go, Two. You’ve done all you can for Melissa.”
Samantha came to join them. “So what now? Are you Theroen? You are, right?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at him cautiously. Two waved the sentiment away. “You’re as safe with him as you’ll ever be, Sam.”
“I guess?”
Theroen turned to Sam. “Where are your shoes?”
“What, no ‘nice to meet you’ or anything?”
“There is no time. Where are your shoes?”
“Dunno.”
“You’ll need them. And a coat. Go to the closet out in the hall and retrieve them.”
Sam looked at Two, unsure. She nodded. “Do what he says, Sam.”
She did. Theroen turned to Two. “Good. Let’s go.”
Two glanced once more at Melissa as they left the room. She wanted to apologize, to take it back somehow. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
There was no time.
* * *
No time. They found Samantha at the closet, pulling on her shoes and jacket. Two had brought no possessions to the mansion, and had none to take. Theroen cared very little for any of it, and had no desire to bring it with him. He held other apartments, in other places, had more than enough money in banks with which to begin their life. They left the mansion, packed full of art, trash, and everything in between, to Abraham.
The Ferrari wouldn’t fit three, nor would a motorcycle, of which there were four. A Jeep was parked behind two of them, and Theroen leapt on the first, moving it quickly out of the way and returning to move the second. He seemed agitated, an unusual state for him. Two thought it best not to question, but Theroen picked up on her curiosity.
“I am greatly concerned by what Abraham may do in the heat of the moment. He is undoubtedly aware of his daughter’s death, and I do not expect him to take it well. I hope he may allow us to escape, though I do not know if he will. If he decides to stop us, things will likely not go well.”
“I’d ask you to define that, but I think I already know.”
Theroen nodded, and let the second bike drop with a crash, not concerned with it. He moved back to the Jeep. Two reached over, hit the button for the electric door opener, and watched it rise. It was raining outside, dark and cold; December rain just barely too warm to freeze. The hunger raged in her, but now was not the time. She heard a howl.
“What about Tori?”
“No time, Two, and no choice. Abraham’s orders were to leave her. We’ve already killed his daughter and are stealing her fledgling. I’ll not risk angering him further.”
Two looked again out into the blackness, understanding but not yet ready to accept. Behind her, she heard car doors opening. One closed.
“Two.” Theroen was standing at his door, waiting. The passenger side was empty in the front. Samantha sat in the rear. Two bit her lip, fighting against her anger.
“Okay, Theroen. It’s not right. It’s not fair. It’s totally fucked up, but I think we crossed the line between right and wrong somewhere around the time I stabbed my friend to death with a fucking table leg, anyway.”
“That may well be true. We wait on you, my love. You must decide if you are ready to leave.”
Two sighed. “I guess it’s a good thing, this immortality shit. I’m going to need years of therapy from this.”
Two got into the car.
* * *
They made it halfway down the driveway before Theroen was forced to jam on the brakes, bringing the Jeep to a sudden, skidding halt on the wet asphalt. Two, not wearing a seatbelt, caught her weight on her arms. Vampire arms. Human bones would have broken. Two barely felt the impact. Samantha, behind her, thudded against the back of Two’s seat with a squawking cry.
“Theroen! Jesus, what are you...” Two didn’t need to finish. The sweeping sense of dread that engulfed her, starting at the base of her spine and working its way up, spoke everything she needed to know. Abraham. Outside. Two looked out the windshield, and into the eyes of hell.
“Run him over!” It took Two a moment to recognize her own voice. It sounded like a scared little girl.
“He could pick up the car.” Theroen’s voice was flat, bereft of emotion, accepting, and Two understood in that moment what was to happen. This would be the end, likely, for all three of them. Frustration, hate, and rage rose up inside her. Melissa died for this?
Theroen picked up on these thoughts, and turned to her “I am out of ideas, Two. I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I brought you into any of this.”
Before Two could respond to this, they heard the rear door unlatch. Two glanced back. Samantha’s eyes were fixated on the figure standing before the car. Glazed, unseeing, Samantha pushed with her arm, opened the door, stepped out of the car. Two felt the tug as well, a gentle push. Get out. Get out, and all will be well. It grew like the tide, surging over her thoughts, compelling her. Get out, and all will be well.
Two felt Theroen’s own mind drive suddenly into hers like a spike. It acted as a harsh slap, a mental shock so great that she reeled back at the force of it. Abraham’s grip on her thoughts was lost.
“All will not be well. I’m sorry, Two. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I could think of nothing else to do.”
“S’okay.” Two felt groggy, like she had just been pulled from a deep sleep. “What do we do, Theroen?”
“We get out. All will not be well. Be ready to run when I tell you.”
“Run where?”
Theroen shrugged. “Run in whatever direction Abraham is not.”
He exited the car and went to stand beside Samantha in the rain. Two followed. Abraham towered in front of them, massive, grim and silent, his face a mask of fury. Two felt rooted to the ground, legs stiff and numb from fear. Run? She wondered if she could move.
“Father.” Theroen’s voice was quiet. Cautious. Abraham’s eyes moved to his son, seemed to bore into him. Theroen stood firm, staring back at the elder vampire.
“Leaving so soon, Theroen?” He asked. His voice was light, mocking, but behind it two heard anger, and an ageless, depthless hate.
“I thought it best. I can only assume you wish to be rid of me, and of Two, as soon as possible.”
“Rid of you. Yes. Yes, my headstrong son, I wish to be rid of you. And so, you may go. You will leave me Samantha, and you will leave me Tori, and since I am now short a daughter, you will leave me Two. In doing this, you release yourself from my bond, forever.”
Theroen took a breath, set himself, looked off to the side and back at Abraham. “No, father. I will not.”
“Oh no? And tell me, boy... how would you have this encounter end? Shall I allow you and your lover to run off into the darkness? No, I think not. Shall I instead slaughter her, and this half-vampire cow, right where we stand? My child is dead, Theroen, because of your fledgling. Her life is forfeit.”
“Your daughter murdered herself, Abraham. There is nothing Two wanted less, but I do not make poor choices. Two proved superior to Missy.”
“Did she?” Abraham’s voice was raw in its malice. “Did she indeed? What will she do now, Theroen? She is a quaking little girl, trembling at the darkness. See how she stares? She stands in the face of eternity, a candle before the blackness of the storm. What will she do?”
Theroen closed his eyes. “She will run, and when you try to pursue her, I will stop you.”
Abraham seemed taken aback by this. He paused for a brief moment, cocked his head, and then howled his horrible laughter. Two felt goose bumps ripple up and down her arms. Samantha cried out, and took a step backwards, her trance dissolving. Abraham put his hand out, and she stilled, but the glazed look did not return to her eyes.
“You are ready to die for these two, my son?”
“Two has my heart, and Samantha has my promise to my sister. I will sacrifice myself for them, if that is how it must be.”
“That blood can never be washed away, Father. You know this. There is much I would atone for, if given the chance, but the blood will always remain.”
“Perhaps I shall simply kill all three of you.”
Theroen shrugged. “It is within your power. I ask that as payment for three hundred and fifty years of loyalty, you let us live. Let us go, Abraham.”
“No.”
“Then I offer my life for theirs. That is the bargain... the request.”
Two wanted to protest, but could not find her voice. She wondered if it was Abraham or Theroen keeping her from speaking, suspected it was the latter, and began to weep in frustration.
“Your foolish notions of love and redemption disappoint me, Theroen. At every step, you have disappointed me. Did you learn nothing from Lisette?”
“I learned much from Lisette, father.”
“Not everything. No, Lisette brought one secret with her into the ground, Theroen. Sweet little Lisette, pure and honest. Wretched. Loathsome. Good. All these years and you’ve never found out. How marvelous.
“Oh, Theroen... How she did scream when I chained her to her funeral pyre.”
Theroen’s eyes blazed. His jaw clenched, hands wrapping into fists, muscles tensing. It seemed that at any moment he would spring at Abraham.
“Isaac...” He began, and Abraham cut him off with the wave of a hand.
“Isaac was a fool, and a puppet. It took me little effort to work him into a frothing rage over Lisette’s transgressions. He brought her to me, Theroen, so she would know. Before she died, I wanted her to truly understand the penalty for taking what was mine.”
Theroen was pale. Shaking. Barely in control of himself. He spoke through his teeth. “I have given you more than three centuries of service for a debt that I did not owe. You will let my child, and Melissa’s child, leave. Then you will prepare for death.”
And now Abraham grinned, his eyes greedy, burning with anticipation. “Oh, my. How exciting it all is! Yes, Theroen, she may leave. You will stay. This will be wonderful indeed.”
Theroen turned to Two. “Go.”
Two found she could speak again. “No, Theroen. I won’t.”
“You will. Take Samantha, and go, and do not look back.”
“You can’t...”
“Go!” he snarled. Two flinched backward, then looked at him again, frightened, confused, unsure. Theroen, with a visible effort, brought himself back in control. “Please, my love. Do not make me force you.”
His eyes held her for a moment longer, and then Two saw the anger swallow him again, and he turned back to Abraham. She took Samantha’s hand, turned to her right, and ran, tugging the younger girl along.
* * *
They made perhaps two hundred yards through the damp woods before Two was stopped by a low growling. She skidded in the mud, nearly falling, and came to a halt. Eyes glittered from the darkness before her.
“Whatthefuckisthat?” Samantha asked in a breathless rush.
“That’s Tori. She’s the other vampire. She knows me... but I think she knows what happened to her sister, too.”
Tori moved closer, into a patch of moonlight, and Two saw that her face was drawn and pinched in rage. She snarled, and charged them, howling. Two did the only thing she could think of. She held out her hands, still tacky with Melissa’s blood, and implored Tori to stop.
Tori seemed somewhat taken aback by this. She slid in the mud, came to a stop, and rolled back on her haunches, considering Two.
“Tori, it’s Two. I know you remember me. I know you’re a lot smarter than you seem. I know you can smell Melissa’s blood. I know that you know she’s dead. Can you understand that I didn’t want it, Tori? That I’m sorry? I need you to understand.”
Tori took a few steps closer, and made that questioning sound Two had heard when they had first met. Dogs yawning. Two held her hand out. Tori sniffed it, growled again, looking up at Two with accusing eyes. Two knelt, and matched Tori’s gaze.
“I didn’t want to kill her, Tori. I didn’t. Now I have to run. You can stop me... kill me here if you want. That might not be such a bad thing. Or you can come with me. I don’t know how far we’ll get, but it’s me or Abraham now. You have to choose.”
Tori seemed to be struggling, perhaps attempting to process the words, perhaps only making her own decisions based on the evidence before her. Two couldn’t tell. Finally, she moved out of Two’s way.
“Thank you, Tori. Sam, come on!” Two took Sam’s hand again, and the two began running once more down the path. After a moment, Tori caught up to them, overtook them, turned and met Two’s eyes, and then shot away on a diagonal, down a different path. Two relied on blind instinct, as she had so many times before, and followed Tori’s route.
* * *
Theroen stood facing his father, trying hard to keep the rage from flooding him completely and drowning his thoughts.
Abraham’s eyes glittered at him, mocking, as he spoke. “So. After almost four hundred years, things finally get interesting."
Theroen’s voice was low. Strained. “You murdered her.”
“I did. I did indeed. She took what was mine.”
“I was never yours, Abraham.”
“No, not in your mind, but it matters not. Lisette learned her lesson, and I gained my fledgling back. As is always the case, Theroen, I won. And now we stand here, father and son. Soon you will attack me, and not just because I took one bride from you, but because now I threaten a second.”
“You cannot have her, Abraham.”
“I don’t want her. I never did. I thought she was a terrible choice for you, my son. Drugs? Prostitution? She is unclean, Theroen. However did you find her?”
“I saw her working, and the strength I sensed in her caught my attention.”
“Ah. Strength. Much like Lisette, is she not? Young Two does not like to be owned by anyone. As I said: a terrible choice for a fledgling.”
“I do not look for slaves, Abraham. I look for equals.”
“I grow tired of this nonsense, Theroen. It will lead nowhere. Your child, and the half-vampire, and now yet another of my daughters, are all making their escape as we speak.”
“Good.”
“We shall see how ‘good’ it is when she feels you die, Theroen.”
“That is how it is to be then? My life for theirs?”
“That is the bargain, Theroen. You know me, and you know that I honor my bargains... though I certainly stack the odds in my favor before making them. If she flees tonight and does not return, she will not suffer at my hands. This... this will be worth the price my daughter paid.”
“I will not make it easy on you, Abraham.”
“My son, you never have.”
They were quiet for a moment, father and son, bitter enemies. Theroen knew he faced death, but his love for Two, his rage over Lisette, left him numb. There was no fear. Abraham, sensing this, broke into a malicious grin.
A single thought came to Theroen in that moment. Whether from his mind, or Abraham’s, he could not say. Get it over with.
Theroen charged.
* * *
Abraham, alive long before the birth of Christ, had met many challenges in his day. Some were human, some vampires, all had sought only to bring about his destruction. None had achieved that goal, and few had even come close.
Now his son charged across the wet grass, roaring, eyes dark with hatred. Abraham’s mind, enhanced to levels beyond human conception, processed each instant like a still picture floating gently in time’s pool. He had ages to react. Eons. Theroen, powerful as he was, held no threat.
Abraham stood and waiting for his son. He waited to free himself from the chains of his progeny. Melissa, dead. Theroen, dead. Tori would likely turn on Two as soon as Theroen’s death stole the whore’s v
ampirism away. Perhaps then Tori would become a rogue hunter, at least until she was hunted down and destroyed by other vampires, an aberration too dangerous to let live. Abraham no longer cared. He stood at the dawning of a new millennium, and at the edge of the next phase of his life, a phase where he doled out the gifts of his vampirism slowly, to supplicants who would appreciate the power he delivered to them.
The Blood The Bonds Page 22
