Vampire's Shade Discounted Box Set

by Vivienne Neas

  All of this flashed through my mind before I registered what I saw, and I realized it was another woman. Thin and pale, tall. Still a vampire, but not so much of a threat. And then another split second later, I recognized the features – the mousy brown hair and dull eyes, the prudish way of dressing, the way she nervously clutched at a purse like it was her lifeline.

  It was Sonya.

  The feeling of panic and fear was replaced by a feeling of dread. I didn’t want to see her. When we used to work together – me as the self-righteous vampires slayer and Sonya as Ruben’s night secretary – we didn’t like each other. Somewhere we had to put our differences aside when she’d been trapped in a cabinet in daylight, and I’d made sure she hadn’t gotten fried.

  But it was my fault Ruben was dead, and he was the only person I’d seen her be close with. If she disliked me before, she had every reason to hate me now.

  And yet she was standing on my doorstep, looking at me with an expectant face that made me realize I couldn’t just turn her away. Not after everything that had happened, everything I’d done. I beckoned for her to follow me into the garage and I rolled my bike in.

  “It’s a surprise to see you,” I said when I’d switched off the ignition and pulled the helmet off. I stayed seated on my bike. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to invite her in. I didn’t know if I should have classified her as a friend, an enemy, or a creditor.

  “I’m sorry I’m arriving so unannounced. I didn’t want many people to know I was here.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?” I asked, and silently begged that she wasn’t. I couldn’t help her. Not only because it wasn’t my job to do the dirty work anymore, but also because it was Sonya. I couldn’t help her. I didn’t want to see her again. The guilt I felt when I just looked at her ate me up.

  “I’m not in trouble, no,” she said. She looked down at her hands clutching her purse. “I’m here because you are.”

  I led her into the house, switching on the lights as I went along. Wherever the lights came on, she looked around the room as if she was trying to figure something out.

  “This doesn’t look at all how I imagined your life to be,” she said.

  “This is my and Connor’s house,” I said. I felt vaguely offended, but not enough to be snappy about it. I looked at the lounge and the open plan kitchen like a stranger might. We have pictures on the walls, of me and Connor, Aspen and Joel, Phil and even one or two of Carl. I also have a photo of my mother up, one where she wasn’t aware it was photo and she was laughing about something.

  It was the best memory I had of her.

  “I just expected it to be more… to the point. You were always so…”

  “I’ve changed,” I said bluntly, not wanting her to finish the sentence. I had the idea it wasn’t going to be a compliment.

  “Of course you have. We all have, this past year,” she said, and I could feel sorrow creeping in. Hers was stronger, but there was some of mine as well. We were thinking about Ruben. It was a death I couldn’t just wipe away like the others. Partly because he hadn’t been a vampire, a mark – he’d been my boss – and partly because his death was gruesome and he’d gotten into trouble without knowing what it was he was getting into.

  And it was my fault. I’d been stalling for time because I hadn’t wanted to kill Connor. And Ruben had died because the clients that had ordered the hit had been impatient.

  “You still talk to Carl,” Sonya said, pulling me out of the downward spiral of my thoughts. She was looking at a photo of him where he looked pissed. He hated photos.

  “We sort of adopted him,” I said. I wasn’t willing to offer anything more on the subject so I changed topics. “You said I was in trouble.”

  I offered her a glass of orange juice and sat on another couch. She sat on the edge like a bird about to take flight, like she never really relaxed. I fought the urge to mirror her, and sank into the seat on purpose. I took a sip of my own juice.

  “There are people out there that want to avenge Ruben’s death,” she said, getting straight to the point. I frowned.

  “The people that killed him are dead. They’ve paid.”

  Sonya nodded. “They’re not happy with that. For them it was personal that he died.”

  “As it is with most people that lose a loved one,” I said. “But what does this have to do with me?”

  She took a deep breath.

  “I might have mentioned to his family that I knew the people he used to work with. They’ve been doing their own digging, and they want to come after you. I just wanted to warn you. I believe you should at least know when your life is in danger, even if sometimes it’s your own fault.”

  That last comment had my back up.

  “Just so you know, I don’t do anything illegal anymore. My slate is clean, and I’m happy. I don’t need you coming in here and reminding me of a life I no longer live.”

  Sonya nodded and she didn’t look in the least offended. I was the only one that was upset.

  “I’m just here to warn you, Adele. I’m not the enemy.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes. I had an awful urge to cry. “I’m surprised that you’re not,” I said, my eyes still closed. When I opened them again Sonya’s eyes were on my face, and her face had softened. It was the opposite of what I’d been expecting.

  “My dear child, you’ve lost him too,” she said. I didn’t like her calling me a child. She wasn’t much older than me. Or maybe she was. She could have been a vampire for ages. I’d never taken the time to find out.

  “I thought you might be one of those that blamed me for it. You knew, better than anyone, what was going on.”

  She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands, again, pursing her lips.

  “I don’t blame you for his death,” she said finally, her voice low. “He knew what he was getting himself into. If you play with fire…”

  I knew what the rest of the saying was, but I didn’t have to agree with it. Ruben hadn’t known. He’d taken on a job that was way over his head. It was way over all our heads. And he’d died, and we were still paying for it.

  “Why are you warning me?” I finally asked.

  “Because you’ve been through enough,” Sonya said.

  “Nothing that I didn’t bring on myself,” I said.

  Sonya shook her head. “It’s not what I’m talking about. You’re the Griffin girl. I heard what had happened, your father’s arrest.”

  A shock ran through me. Sonya knew who I was. I wondered why she’d never said anything before. I wondered if I would have listened. All I did was to pester her because I could. Because I thought so much of myself. I opened my mouth to say something but the words caught in my throat.

  “I’m going to leave you to it,” Sonya said, finally getting up. She put the empty glass on the coffee table. “I’ll keep you updated.” She fished in her handbag and produced a square piece of paper with a number written on it.

  “You can call me here after sunset if you need to speak to me.”

  I got up too, and walked to the door to let her out.

  “Thank you, Sonya,” I said, and I really meant it. It was unexpected that she cared at all. She left the house, walking to the middle of the front lawn. Then she disappeared without a trace. She’d dematerialized to wherever she’d come from, and I stood in front of the house, alone.

  I walked back inside and closed the door behind me. I slid the chain into place and bolted it. I hadn’t been scared like this for a while.

  I walked to the bedroom and found the stepladder. The top cupboard was full of boxes – Christmas decorations, taped up winter clothes, table cloths for holidays, and a black box that I’d shoved in here, expecting to never open it again. I slid it out of the cupboard now, balancing it while I rearranged the other stuff in the cupboard.

  I set it on the bed and sliced through the tape with a kitchen knife. When I lifted the top of the box, it was like I was opening a door to the past. The smell of leat
her filled the room. I pulled out my leathers, the black pants and matching jacket, and held them up in front of me.

  The thigh sheath with the knife in it lay in the bottom of the box. I took it out and held it against my thigh. The silver stake I was scared to touch. It had tasted the blood of so many vampires it scared me. I hung my leathers in the closet, along with the knife. I scraped enough courage together to take out the stake and locked it in the gun safe at the bottom of my closet. I put the box back in the cupboard, arranging it so that it didn’t look missing if Connor decided to open the cupboard for some reason.

  When I was done putting everything in place, I took a shower. I stayed under scalding water until my skin had gone numb. When I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror. I pulled my lips back, baring my fangs. With the black hair and green eyes, vampire fangs, I looked just like him.

  I hadn’t seen my dad in myself in months. But he was still in there. Maybe revenge had just been something to hide behind. Maybe the malice, the heartlessness with which I’d always been able to kill, had really just come from him.

  I traced the scar down my neck with one finger, feeling the thick ridge of scar tissue.

  I didn’t know who I was anymore, but if someone out there was out to get me, I was going to be ready for them. I may not have known what I’d caused by getting Ruben killed, but I was going to make sure that whoever was after me had no idea what they were in for.

  This was what I was the best at. Protecting myself, keeping my family safe, looking out for those who couldn’t look out for themselves. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to admit it a few days ago, but I was admitting it now. Sydney and I had a lot more in common than I’d wanted to acknowledge.

  I found the Glock under the bed and reloaded it with new bullets, swapping the normal ones out for silver. I crawled into bed, feeling wired, and shoved the gun under my pillow.

  It took me a long time to fall asleep, and when I finally did, I dreamed.

  Ruben was sitting behind his desk, as stubborn as always. He had a stain on his green jersey, and he had slippers on his feet because he’d been pulling eighteen hour days. I wondered how Mrs. Cross survived a relationship with a man that was never home. Or maybe that was why it survived.

  I walked into the office.

  “You’re cutting it close, Adele,” he said to me, the way he always did.

  “You pay me to do your dirty work, Ruben. If you want it done I’m going to do it my way.” We had a terrible working relationship. He was never happy with me, and I always threatened him. Sonya pulled her nose up at me when I walked in, so I dropped my stake on her desk. It was full of blood, and it splattered all over her paperwork. She lifted her hands and they were clean, even though the blood had splattered over them too. The bits of paper her hands had covered were clean.

  “It’s on your hands, Adele,” she said, and when I lifted my own hands, they were dripping with blood. I wiped them on my leather pants. Blood never showed on black, which was why I wore them. I wiped and wiped but it wouldn’t come off.

  I walked into the office to tell Ruben what his secretary had done, but he had two holes in his chest.

  “Now, why did you go and do that, Adele?” he asked, looking at the holes in his chest. Blood seeped into his clothes. “My wife made me this jersey for our thirtieth anniversary.” When he looked up at me again his eyes were glassy, and he started coughing. He put his hand to his throat while he coughed, and when he brought it away again it was covered in blood, too. He looked at it, and then up at me.

  Where his throat should have been there was a hole now, it was ripped out.

  “Who did this to you?” I asked. He didn’t answer me, just stared at the blood on his hands and his clothes.

  “Who did this?” I yelled. I was going to kill them. I was going to make them pay. But Ruben shrugged, calm like he wasn’t busy dying. “This looks like the work of a vampire,” he said, like he was analyzing it.

  I turned to Sonya who was standing in the door now, neat and clean. She had her arms folded over her chest.

  “Sonya’s a vampire,” I said, feeling horrible for pinning it on her. But someone had to pay.

  “You’re the only killer in the room, Adele,” Sonya said, and her words sliced through me like she’d stabbed me with a knife. I backed away, holding my bloody hands away from my body like they were infected. When I bumped against Ruben’s desk I turned around. He wasn’t sitting there anymore. When I spun around, looking for him, he lay against the closed door, vacant eyes staring up at nothing. There was blood everywhere, and Sonya was gone. The office was a mess, the way I’d found it with Carl the night I’d found Ruben dead.

  I screamed.

  “Adele!” someone’s voice pierced through the horror and the red. “Adele, wake up!”

  My eyes shot open and I had the gun out in the blink of an eye and shoved against his chest. Connor blinked down at the gun, and then looked at me. His hands were wrapped around my shoulders and he was holding me gently.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s me. Put down the gun.”

  I was breathing hard, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The shutters weren’t closed yet, and the inky black of night still hung in the room. I swallowed hard.

  “Put up the gun, Adele,” Connor said again, still talking gently.

  “Oh god,” I said and pulled the gun away. I clipped the safety back on. I’d taken it off in my sleep, and that scared me.

  “I could have shot you,” I said and my voice was thin and far away.

  “It’s okay. You didn’t. We’re okay.” I put the gun on the floor next to the bed, and Connor collected me in his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be. It reminded me of the night we met,” he said and I could hear a smile in his voice. I’d had him at my mercy then too. A couple of times, always sure I would kill him. And I’d never been able to. The only difference was that back then it had been a stake.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, stroking my hair. I flashed on the blood, the death, and shook my head.

  “It was just a stupid nightmare,” I finally said. I didn’t mention that that stupid nightmare was my life.

  Chapter 4

  Sydney was better than I thought she would be. She was a fast learner and she had a natural talent for shooting and a knack for fighting that made me think she was streetwise. She was a hell of a looker, but looks often fooled people.

  It was good to be going at it again. I trained as hard as I used to. The first few days my muscles had been so stiff I couldn’t walk. And then I’d been pushing harder and further.

  I showed her the basics of shooting, but it wasn’t long before we hit the big guns and started working with moving targets. I trained her better than any of my other students. It wasn’t because of how much she wanted it – which was a lot – but because she reminded me of myself. And being reminded of me in the way she was doing, was a good thing. I looked at her, and suddenly I didn’t think I was that bad.

  It took me four months to get her to a point where I thought she was fit enough and good enough to really protect herself. We lay on the mat after our hand-to-hand training, breathing hard.

  “If you really want to learn how to protect yourself, fight against men, you need to let Phil teach you,” I said. “He was the one that trained me, after all.”

  Sydney shook her head. Her hair was slick with sweat, sticking to her face and the tips were wet where she’d dumped a bottle of water down her neck to cool down.

  “I don’t want Phil to teach me. I want you to teach me. You’re the best.”

  “You haven’t even had any classes with Phil. You don’t know that.”

  She shrugged. “They said you’re the best.”

  I leaned up on my elbows and looked at her.

  “They?” It was the first time anything like this came to light, and it made me feel lightheaded. ‘They’ implied that there were people out there that knew abo
ut me, knew who I was and what I did.

  Sydney pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling. Slowly all expression and emotion drained from her face until she had a blank mask in place.

  “Who told you about me?” I asked. My voice sounded a lot less panicky than I felt. Point for me. She was quiet for a moment and I fought the urge to grab her and shake her. How long had I worked at being invisible?

  “I was recommended by some people who used to train here,” she finally said.

  “Who?” I asked.

  She hesitated again before she spoke, and it made me suspicious. “Peter,” she said.

  I didn’t remember any students of mine called Peter. Of course I didn’t have anything to do with Phil’s students. But if it was just through other students she heard from me, I could relax. I dropped myself back down onto the mat, lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling the same way Sydney was doing.

  I was jumpy. And I was aware that I was jumpy. That was bad. That meant that either I was losing my mind, believing that there was reason to think that I was in sort of danger again, or I really was in some sort of danger. And I was far more likely to believe the latter because I believed in my gut, and my gut had never been wrong.

  Not even the time when I should have killed the vampire in the alley, but I felt that it was wrong. Because that vampire had been Connor, and he’d saved me in so many ways.

  Sydney pushed herself up and sat cross-legged, sucking on her water bottle.

  “I want to go out tonight. I know the owner of a club downtown. Do you want to go with me?”

  I hadn’t been out in so long I couldn’t remember when last I’d been out to just have fun.

  “We can make it a girl’s night,” she added. And the idea sounded good. I wasn’t a typical girly-girl. I didn’t wear a lot of make-up or have fancy clothes and high heels. I had training clothes and guns. And leathers. But Sydney wasn’t exactly a girly-girl either. Sure, she wore pink a lot, and she had the pixie face with the honey hair and the eyes that pulled me in, but she could fight just as well as I could if I didn’t unleash my vampire strength, and she could shoot almost as well as I could. Almost.