One Night Burns (The Vampires of Livix, #1)

by J Gordon Smith

  “You need to stop it. The Vampire Laws forbid us from increasing our numbers now. We are grossly over budget already. He won’t have space to add her to the family.”

  “Yes I know.” Thyia sat back in the Queen Anne side chair before the massive desk. An old antique likely acquired new. She had similar chairs in her own home. “He will either watch her die of old age or he will drink her. But I expect he will likely tire of her before long anyway. I see you remember your youth, vigorous and brash, and you keep some reminders of that youth.”

  “Yes.” He leaned back in his over sized oak and iron chair, “Violence and warfare filled my human youth. But such was the way of life during the dark ages.” He brushed his hand along the end of the arm rest. “These are made from German Black Forest oak fitted with iron forged by frontier blacksmiths.” Theron looked at Thyia while his hands ran across the worn table, rough in spots, “I became a vampire in eight-hundred and thirty-two and I am the only one that remembers a barbarian king that captured me my first year.” Theron put his tongue in the hole where that same king removed one of his fangs before Theron could escape, “The marks here and here are arrows I blocked using the table as a shield and the chair stopped many swords that sought me. But before the night ended I tasted all the king’s men.”

  Yashar whispered, “But you’re a banker –”

  Theron glanced at Yashar but brought his gaze back to the beautiful Thyia, “I remained young and reckless for a few centuries. I thought as I wandered and feasted on the known world. But none of the thoughts really merged until banking coalesced during the Renaissance. I joined the fledgling Venetian House of Wellym and found I had a knack for finance. I later moved the bank to London and then again to Detroit expanding its divisions with the Bank of Draydon when horseless carriages replaced buggies in the newest of the high tech manufacturing industries at the start of the last century.” His steel eyes returned to Yashar, “A vampire can wield enormous power with the magic of compound interest. Small nudges here and there over lifetimes can change history like drops of water bring the mighty mountains down. But a vampire won’t think of that until they have seen a century or more of time pass and see their own fortunes rise and fall.” Theron stood, “But Thyia, your son concerns me. He might spend decades learning lessons that are dangerous for us now.”

  Thyia agreed, “It’s true that Garin’s youth will keep him from learning the lessons for many decades. But it’s not an issue for your concern. For me it will be a concern – a mother’s worry.”

  Theron said, “We, the village of vampires raising this son of yours, are always concerned. We must be careful. Because of our system advancements with Massai distribution we have too many vampires than are sustainable for the old days. We don’t need the harshness and brutality of pitchforks and torches to remind us of the Laws and how we have stretched them already.”

  “I will remind my son.” She put her hands on her lap, “You and I have each had our separate dalliances over the centuries, Theron. Some I miss. Some I have nearly forgotten. Others are impossible to forget – but they are gone. It will be no different for him. He is young and will learn.”

  “Learning often causes problems … messes to clean up … But I must go,” Theron walked around his desk to take Thyia's hand, “I do hope you reconsider selling your business.”

  “I think not.” she stood, followed by Yashar, “A pleasure seeing you again Theron. Thank you for the offer. It always gives me hope my company is still creating value when it is desired by those such as yourself.”

  -:- Twelve -:-

  My phone rang, “Hi. I wondered how you are after last night?”

  “I … I have to go to work.” I said.

  “Call in sick. We should talk.”

  “No. I’ve got to think about this.” Morning brought me clarity.

  “I’m out here in the street. Thought we could get waffles.”

  Waffles filled my thoughts like poetry. “No.” I looked out the big window and saw the red truck. It brought back a lot of feelings. The wrong kind of feelings. Running. Fear. Horror fangs. “I need time to think.” Still unsure if I should be involved with vampires. All fun and games before. Now just frightening.

  Silence on the phone.

  He finally said, “Well … Why don’t you look for me at the coffee shop when you’re ready?”

  “Ok.” I said. Then, “Bye.”

  I see his lips mouth, “I’m sorry.” as he pulls the truck door open and got in. The forward acceleration of the truck closed the door as he sped away.

  I took my hand from the glass window. A ghostly image traced my fingers in moisture fogging the cold glass. It left a slowly fading wave “Goodbye.”

  I called Marilyn, “I need a personal day today.”

  “What’s wrong Anna?”

  “Oh, nothing.” tears ran down my face.

  “The cute boy did something boneheaded this weekend?” Marilyn interrupted herself, “ – Sorry. I don’t need to pry. Let me know when you’re better. But if you need to talk to someone I can listen. I can meet you anywhere too, if that helps.”

  I took a deep breath, “Really, thanks Marilyn. I’ll be better soon. Thanks for the offer.”

  “No problem.”

  I stayed in my apartment all day. There are fewer soap operas now. More game and reality shows with constant mindless yelling. Or maybe it’s that I’m out of my mind. I flip on my media box and switch to the On Demand movie downloads. I spend an hour looking through there. A lot of movies. Some I’ve seen, some I recognize, some I never knew about. Nothing that fits my mood. I turned it off. I wanted to call Bethany but I cried that she is gone.

  I didn’t pay attention as I made a box of macaroni and cheese for lunch. I sat at my little kitchen breakfast bar and ate while staring across the living room and the window to the world outside. I can’t see as low as the street, blocked by the tree tops, and then opening to the sky and farther away some other buildings. But I can guess that while I’m sitting up here in turmoil and sadness cars are going by and people are busy driving to and from destinations with their little projects.

  I could drive to the mall. But shopping didn’t inspire me either. That reminded me of Bethany. I couldn’t go to the coffee shop. But maybe that’s why my head started hurting? It started like a thousand points but narrowed to a little pinch right behind my eyes. The tunnel vision of a migraine would soon follow. I rummaged through my shelf of caffeine drinks while I drank a glass of water. I pushed aside the empty coffee can I knew I needed to replace but became disappointed at discovering my little tea tin empty too. I grabbed my keys and wallet and stopped at my hall mirror.

  I looked like a wreck.

  I debated if I should risk taking a quick shower and probably change the sheets on my bed. Then I can get the coffee for the inevitable migraine? Or schlep down to the corner gas station while the landscapers ogle my crumpled t-shirt and too tight sweatpants I had put on this morning for a day of crying? In a flurry I went through the shower and even made my bed before dashing out. The focus on a task had helped.

  I stopped at the candy shop at the downtown square. They sold coffee and I got a large one. Along with a long stick of peppermint candy that I swirled in it as I walked around the downtown. An impulse that actually tasted pretty good.

  I didn’t remember planning it exactly but I found myself walking passed the Livix Cafe. I saw Brett’s plaid shirt behind the counter. And then I saw Garin. He reviewed his computer and wrote notes for a presentation deck. He gazed up and must have seen me or my reflection in something because he lurched out of his chair.

  I quickened my pace and rounded the corner. I heard my name but I had already ducked into the alley and took another direction before diving into the rear entrance of a high end jeans store. A store with exactly three pairs on display. So no place to hide. “I’m looking for the book store?”

  “One more down,” said the middle-aged clerk with frosted tips pushin
g back his Euro glasses.

  “Thanks.” I knew that either Garin feared being observed chasing me with the speed of a vampire or I had twisted the path enough that he still searched for me.

  I entered Fillian's book store, owned by a great old guy. He knew everything about everything and chatted about it all which provided the charm of his store and how he paid the rent while the fancy pants company next door counted number four in two years.

  “There she is!” said Mr. Fillian as he saw me enter. “Let me guess, you’re looking for paranormal books?”

  “Close.” I scanned the isles. He always moved sections of the store around because he did a good sales turnover and because he liked to help people find things. I stood behind the end of a self-standing gondola full of Romance on one side and Science Fiction on the other. Garin tromped passed the glass and continued down the street. The book store logo blocked his view this deep into the store.

  “The paranormal books are over on the left,” he pointed. “I’m getting ready for a book club tonight if you care to join? It starts at seven. The chef from Napoleon’s down the block is bringing in some new appetizers to start us off. He wants to do some testing and we’ve been discussing themed nights. Like a Renaissance Costume evening. Or Shakespeare for Valentines.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “I’m always trying something new. With electronic books and easy physical book shipping a lot of small bookstores are disappearing. But I’m finding it’s getting more exciting. My business has switched around to authors interacting more closely with readers. There are many really heavy readers around Livix and it’s more fun to read or interact with others. So I’m facilitating a physical social network.”

  “What books are you reading at the club?”

  “Zombies and Vampires are the themes for tonight. But I have several clubs on different genres that meet here or at some of the readers’ homes on their own. Those that like physical books I have a program similar to college text books. You look like you are going to college? A group can turn books in and the next group buys them. No shipping costs, used book prices, and no worry about filling your apartment with stacks of books. Easy for everyone. I coordinate it with some emails and an extra web page on my blog.”

  “Seems like a lot of great ideas.”

  “I sometimes talk too much for a book seller,” he winked, “but I’ll show you one more thing.” He took a panel off a projector lens that pointed to the ceiling. A big crystal the size of a bowling ball glowed next to the projector and a little keyboard. “Pick a favorite author name. Or do you have a fiction title you’re reading now?”

  “I’m reading The Black Jewel.”

  He typed it into the keyboard and the ceiling came alive with points of light and lines connecting those points. It filled the entire ceiling of the store. “Yep, that author is working on another that I’m expecting out soon, The Fire Gem.”

  “Now here’s the fun part.” He put his hands on the glowing crystal, “That book is now the center of our star field. But by turning the ball this way or that you can zoom around to the other options. Characters or plots or themes. Similar authors. Different genres. Rolling the ball and pushing or pulling it selects or zooms.”

  “I can see authors I’ve read along there that are similar, and then …” I walked around the store in surprised amazement like revisiting myself as a child of ten. I returned to the crystal ball. “You’re a wizard!”

  “Try it out. I’ve still got some bugs in the code. But it makes me feel magical too.”

  I put my hands on the ball and moved it around. Like flying through virtual bookshelves. Or those spy movies where they swipe everything this way and that.

  “At its heart is a recommendation engine. Not a lot different from when you came in here as a kid and asked me about a good science fiction story after you accidentally read Ringworld.”

  “You remember that?” I said stunned.

  “I remember a cute little girl wanted the book filled with wedding rings and princesses. You had recently been part of your sister’s wedding, I think. But you found more in that book, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. That’s funny – and an amazing memory. I think you suggested The Mote in God’s Eye next.”

  “That’s an easy pairing, but that’s the idea.”

  “I did finally get my princess with A Princess of Mars,” I laughed. “I thought about going into science after all those books.”

  “Is that what you’re studying?”

  “No. But related, Patent Law, including technology courses in the program.”

  “Good. We need more science and math and technology experts. Maybe you can help me sometime with filing patents on this system?”

  “Sure.”

  “Anyway, I should let you get back to your day,” he smiled and turned toward the back of the store. I heard his voice filter across the stacks “I think you successfully evaded your pursuer.”

  Without active attention the projector and crystal ball faded to black.

  I departed, puzzled at how he knew those things and remembered so much.

  Definitely a wizard.

  I returned to my apartment and rummaged through the television channels. Nothing still so I turned it off. I pulled out my Kindle and read more about that hero thief, she found skeletons hidden under the monastery. I read into the late afternoon. Sometime after that I fell asleep.

  I woke startled from a nightmare to a dark room. I realized I had fallen asleep on the couch when my Kindle bounded off the blanket and landed on the area rug with a thump. Too dark to see the wall clock. The glowing digits on the microwave too far away and too tiny to help. No traffic noise came from the street outside so probably two or three or four in the morning.

  I heard scratching. Like a cat or a dog on a door. Something pushed weakly against my apartment door until it made a slight tap hitting the jamb. As much noise as the light breeze blowing against it when the building entry door at the bottom of the stairs opened and closed. But my door kept moving. I rubbed my eyes, watching and listening and remaining still.

  More scratching and bumping. A moan.

  I rolled quickly and quietly off the couch. I looked around for weapons near me. A heavy bowl with wood and ceramic decorative balls on the coffee table seemed the handiest. I took one of the ceramic balls. I padded toward the door and peered through the peep hole. Nothing. The scratching came from my door. Something an inch and a quarter away from me. Here.

  Courage.

  I squeezed my hand around the ceramic ball as I lifted it in the air. I reached for the deadbolt latch and slowly turned the metal handle. The door leaned heavily into me and I jumped back. A body slumped prone half in and half out of my room. Too dark for me to see any details. I looked into the hall and didn’t see anyone else. Moans came from the body. I fumbled for the light switch.

  “No … offfsss.” urged the body.

  I knew that voice. No! No! No! Raced through my head. I grabbed some cloth to pull him in. The coat or shirt in my fingers felt tattered and slick. But I found a way to drag him in. After the boots on his feet bumped over the aluminum threshold I closed and locked the door.

  I pulled him into the kitchen. He slid easier on the tile than he had on the carpet. I found my small flashlight under the sink. The dead batteries left the flashlight useless. Damn! Damn! Damn! I remembered the stub of a candle and matches I kept on a utility shelf so I got those and set the candle on the tile and lit it. A tiny flame but enough I could see by. Above the counters and especially from outside the apartment windows the flame and its light would be invisible. A trail of blood dragged from the door into the kitchen.

  Garin lay on his back on the kitchen tile bleeding from too many wounds. I didn’t know what to do! Cut to the bone in too many places and his flesh hung in tatters and chunks. His stomach and intestines spilled out of a giant gash across his belly, held by one nearly severed hand feebly trying to poke it back in. His legs lay
at strange and crooked angles while his thigh muscles quivered uncontrollably. Raspy breath fluttered under broken and sliced ribs. The smell of death. Half his face hung off his skull like a rubber Halloween mask. One good eye looked at me.

  My hands shook. “I don’t know what to do!” My mind flashed at the scene of rescue workers pushing Bethany’s sheet covered gurney. I couldn’t lose him too!

  His mouth opened wide and his fangs reflected clear and sharp in the dim light. His eye sharp and urgent. I could see him failing – already weakening from his movements at the door. He said he could only die from a severed head. But look at him! My heart ached. What could I to do? Did the legends, the movies, and the books give myth or truth? Could he heal from fresh human blood? How much would it take?

  Would I survive?

  I looked at those wickedly curled fangs. I peered down the length of his destroyed body. I put one hand at the top of his head to steady it and took my other wrist and jammed it against those teeth. Oh it hurt! I didn’t know if the venom worked like a mosquito injects to stop blood from coagulating or what exactly. But it warmed me and expanded in pleasure throughout my body. I wanted to give and give and give. The pace of my heartbeat quickened pumping these strange urges around and around in my body and my mind as it squirted and pulsed my blood down Garin’s throat. The feeling compelled me like an orgasm. My abdomen and pelvis burned on fire. My heart pounded as if it could burst from my chest. I clearly understood the attraction to vampires. The possible addiction. And the ragged danger.

  His damaged scalp under my fingers wiggled and jiggled. Like my fingers pressed against a pile of squirming maggots! My eyes snapped open and by the lurid candle light I saw how he knitted together. My initial revulsion transformed into curiosity at the magic of it.

  He became stronger. His hand came to my wrist and pushed it deeper onto his fangs. I cried out at the pain. But the pain rolled into more of whatever drug made me feel like this. I could die here and not care. But I did care. I wanted to live!