by Amy Patrick
When loose, it hung past my waist. Right now it was pinned in a bun at the back of my head, as was the usual style for girls and women in my village. I hadn’t seen a mirror for days, so at this point it must have looked rather unkempt.
Since none of the men had introduced themselves to me, I didn’t say anything to them.
Finally, one of them met my eyes and smiled.
“Welcome to the Bastion, Abigail. Imogen will be happy to know you’ve arrived...” His attention swung over to Kannon. “... at long last. We thought this guy was losing his touch.”
Kannon exchanged a few more joking remarks and back slaps with his friends, and then we were moving again, deeper into the cavern.
“What did they mean? That you were losing your touch?”
He swept a hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “Nothing. They’re just ribbing me. We’ve been working together for years. They’re Bloodbound like me. It’s a brotherhood—we give each other a hard time, but it’s all in good fun.”
He gave a humble dip of the chin. “I have a reputation among the Bloodbound for being able to bring in even the hardest cases, quickly and cleanly. You were supposed to be an ‘easy’ job, by the way.’”
He shot a grin at me, and I returned his smile. “But I was difficult.”
“You certainly were. Because you were hanging onto your humanity so hard.”
“Yes, well, I learned my lesson on that.”
“I hope so,” he said as we left the first chamber. “Because Imogen doesn’t take kindly to human-lovers.”
11
The Bastion
We moved through the various chambers that made up the cavern, and I tried not to trip as my eyes moved from side to side, taking in the spectacle of the place.
I’d learned a little geology in school, had even seen some photographs of caves and their basic calcite formations.
These were not basic, and this was no mere cave.
Some chambers were thirty feet high, some had to be at least a hundred fifty feet. And we actually had to duck our heads when passing through some of the corridors between them.
Each room was illuminated by light sources that were hidden from my view but that highlighted the fascinating natural ornamentation on the ceilings and walls.
There were crystal-clear pools and shimmering draperies of snow-white stone, shawls and scarves of flowstone that ranged from translucent to pink and orange.
It was neither cold nor hot inside but comfortably cool, and the air smelled fresh. I felt utterly dwarfed by the size of the rock formations and astounded at their beauty.
All of this, underground for thousands of years before humans had even known it existed. No wonder tourists had flocked here.
“Where’s your room?” I asked, then worried I sounded too forward, added, “I mean, where do you and your family live?”
“The Bloodbound are my family. There’s a barracks in the east tunnel where we all sleep.”
“Oh. None of you are married?”
Most Amish men married by age twenty-two, and almost no one in our community stayed single.
He shot me a grin. “Just to the job. It’s forbidden for us to take a mate. Relationships would be a distraction from our duties. We don’t have any possessions either.”
“Oh. Like monks,” I said.
His grin grew. “Like monks—only way more badass.”
Finally, we reached a set of large, metal doors set into the rock on either side of a corridor. Kannon rapped on the door in a pattern of taps and knocks that sounded something like a song.
The heavy doors swung outward slowly, and we proceeded down a long, dimly lit tunnel before emerging into an open cavern lit with plentiful wall torches and even more torches in heavy iron stands around the room.
The echoes of our feet resounded off the stone walls as we approached a long, wooden table in the center of the room.
Several people were seated around it, studying some papers and a map. All their heads lifted in unison as they heard our approach.
Imogen was one of them. She smiled when she saw me. Pushing back from the table, she stood and opened her arms out to the sides.
“Abigail. Splendid. Our little lost sheep has found her way home—with some help. Thank you, Kannon. That will be all.”
Though I should have been bereft at the departure of the only person I knew in this place, I wasn’t. Quite the opposite. I barely noticed him leaving.
All my attention was focused on the woman who stood before me in a black sheath dress and black pumps.
Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek chignon that somehow looked completely different than the bun hairstyles worn by women in my community.
She was very slim—her belted waist couldn’t have been any more than twenty-two inches, and I doubted she weighed much over a hundred pounds.
Naturally, being Amish, I hadn’t grown up watching television or movies, but we’d made frequent use of the library.
I’d had a secret fascination with books about old Hollywood, and Imogen bore an uncanny resemblance to pictures I’d seen of one of its biggest stars, Audrey Hepburn.
She was even more beautiful than she’d been a few nights ago. Though her skin was unlined and her hair was smooth and shining, I had the sense she was much older than she appeared to be.
The women I’d known all my life looked nothing like this—certainly not the mothers. But I picked up a very strong maternal vibe from Imogen.
Though I’d only seen her once, and briefly at that, I felt an instant kinship with her. She came around the table and approached me, taking my hands in both of hers in a motherly gesture.
“How have you been? I was concerned when Kannon told me you weren’t where he left you. I understand you went back to your village.”
“Yes,” I managed to say past the instant lump in my throat. “But I won’t be going there again.”
She nodded sympathetically.
“I heard things didn’t go so well. I’m sorry. The beginnings of this life can be hard. But you will see, there is so much more to it than hardship. You won’t miss your human existence at all, I promise. Before long, you’ll rarely even think of it. And you’ll have a community even stronger than the one you came from. The familial bond between vampires is the strongest you’ll ever experience.”
She summoned another female vampire and assigned her to take me to my quarters and find me some clothes.
“You’ll feel better after a bath and a good meal,” Imogen assured me as I was led from the room. “And when you’re ready in a day or two, your training will begin. Don’t worry, you’ll soon feel at home here and make lots of new friends.”
At her last words a memory resurfaced—Reece, running away from the scene of the car crash.
I stopped walking with my escort and turned back.
“Imogen... if I may ask... I thought I saw... well, I thought I saw you bite someone else at the crash site. A young man, the driver of the car?”
She smiled beatifically. “Yes. I honored your request and saved his life as well.”
For the first time in days I felt something resembling hope.
“He’s here then?”
Her smile fell. “No, I’m afraid not. He fled the scene, and my Bloodbound haven’t been able to locate him. Never fear, dear. He’ll show up, and when he does, you’ll be the first to know.”
Contrary to Imogen’s promise, I didn’t feel at home at the Bastion, even three weeks later.
I tried. I listened carefully to all my instructors about safety precautions and dietary resources. I learned the cave system inside and out. I studied vampire history and even brushed up on the current events I’d been so blissfully unaware of while living with my Amish community.
The Crimson Accord that Kannon had mentioned was a particular focus.
The twenty-point document had been drafted in 1962 and signed by vampire and human leaders, including John F. Kennedy, who’d been the A
merican president at the time, and Sadie Aldritch, the leader of the Vampire-Human Coalition.
It spelled out the rules that had allowed vampires to come out into human society and had kept the peace among the species since then.
The only humans who were bitten or turned these days were those who chose to be. Vampires held jobs, paid taxes, and voted.
All of it was interesting and even a little awe-inspiring. I’d grown up with no knowledge the vampire race was so ancient and accomplished, and it seemed foolish to me now that my family and even Josiah himself had considered them to be “monsters.”
I even enjoyed the opportunity to study and learn again, something I’d missed since my schooling had ended at home.
But I didn’t make lots of friends as Imogen had promised. Whether it was because of my upbringing or something else, I never could manage to feel like I fit in at the Bastion.
The other vampires were polite, but other than Kannon, no one seemed interested in befriending me.
How could I blame them? Everyone here was so much cooler than me, more worldly, and apparently far more satisfied with the way their lives had turned out.
They spoke freely of feeding from humans and seemed to enjoy their new powers and lifestyle. If they were ever sad, they didn’t show it.
The only exception was when people discussed what was happening in the world beyond the confines of this safe haven, of the increasing discrimination against vampire-kind and the need to prepare and mobilize for what they considered an inevitable war between the species.
I didn’t join in those discussions. It was hard for me to get into the us-against-them mentality when I still felt so human.
Life got immeasurably better when I met Kelly and Heather. Both were about my age and fellow newcomers to the Bastion.
The two were standing together in a corridor when I left one of my classes, talking with my instructor. As soon as he left, they said hello.
“I like your accent. Where are you from?” Kelly asked.
“Are you from Europe?” Heather asked eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to go to Europe.”
“No. I’m from Pennsylvania, actually. I grew up speaking Dutch at home, though.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re Amish?” Kelly asked.
“Used to be. I guess I’m not really anymore.” I looked down at my English clothing, which had been provided for me here.
It was a bit of a thrill to realize I was no longer instantly recognizable as someone so far removed from the rest of society.
“My family didn’t... react well,” I explained.
“Mine either,” Heather said. “I’m from a small town in Alabama, and my parents are like, totally religious. They kicked me out.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “I know how you feel.”
Heather told me she’d driven here on her own about a week before I’d gotten here. She’d heard about the place from the vampire who’d turned her, a guy who’d claimed to love her and convinced her to let him bite her, though he had no interest in sticking around to educate her himself once she’d turned.
He’d simply thanked her for a good time, given her directions to the Bastion, then hit the road himself in the other direction.
Kelly had been picked up by the Bloodbound, like I had been. She’d turned after being attacked by a nomadic group of rogue vampires.
They’d probably meant to kill her but had moved on without determining that the deed was fully done.
After awakening alone, afraid, and very sunburned, she’d pieced together what must have happened and had been hiding out, unsure of where to go and what to do next until the Bloodbound rescued her.
Kannon said she’d been on the verge of starvation when they’d found her.
While we were from completely different backgrounds, the three of us had one thing in common. None of us had ever planned on our lives turning out like this, and unlike the others who lived here at the Bastion, none of us had much interest in vampire politics or our warfare training sessions.
The three of us sat together in all our shared classes. Having gotten here earlier, Heather was ahead of us in her studies, but we did have survival class together.
Our teacher, Eudora, seemed an unlikely expert in the matter. She was the least robust-looking vampire I’d seen since arriving at the Bastion.
Unlike Imogen and most of the others who had elegant posture, vibrant coloring, and beautiful complexions, Eudora was tiny, hunched, and pasty.
Then again, she was about four hundred years old, so she must have known what she was talking about on the subject of survival.
“When you travel, it’s critical to be aware of the local rules and regulations,” she said as she lurched from one side of the classroom to the other. “The courts have given state and local authorities some wiggle room under the Crimson Accord, and the last thing you want is to arrive at a hotel in the middle of nowhere just before sunrise and find they don’t accept vampire guests. And when you travel internationally, do your research ahead of time. Some countries, like Russia and Mexico, forbid us to feed directly on humans—even with permission—and some, like Transylvania, deny our existence altogether.”
Looking around at my classmates, it seemed impossible to imagine anyone in this day and age could deny the existence of vampires.
I’d learned we numbered in the millions worldwide, and there were vampires working in just about every industry as well as in local, state, and national government jobs.
“We’re lucky in this country that leaders like Sadie Aldritch and President Kennedy were able to make such progress in vampire-human relations and ensure the protections we enjoy under The Crimson Accord,” Eudora said. “Trust me, you would not have wanted to be around before that treaty was enacted. It was a chaotic time—dangerous for humans and vampires alike. If only Sadie and her group of pacifists weren’t so determined to prevent us from feeding in the natural way, we could have called her the finest leader vampire-kind has ever seen.”
Though it was legal to drink from willing humans, Sadie Aldritch’s Vampire-Human Coalition apparently pushed a teetotalling message, encouraging vampires to drink only from the stockpile of donated blood available to us through the Accord and never from humans directly.
Since the Accord had been signed, all humans of adult age and good health had been making regular donations at blood banks.
In exchange, humans were no longer attacked and drained—except for rare attacks by rogue vampires, which were swiftly and harshly punished by the vampire courts.
Heather raised her hand. “I know it’s more nutritious and better tasting to drink directly from humans, but isn’t resisting the urge the only way for us to have true peace with them? It’s sort of our only choice.”
Eudora shot a nervous looking glance at the open classroom doorway. In a low voice she answered, “Most people here at the Bastion would disagree with that—strongly—especially our leader. Why do you think that is? Anyone?”
A middle-aged man ventured a guess. “Because Imogen hates humans?”
The teacher chuckled. “Guess again. Anyone?”
Heather answered. “Because that would eventually lead to our extinction. No biting equals no turning.”
“Exactly,” Eudora said. “And without new vampires being made, our numbers will never equal those of the human population. We’d always be in the minority, and eventually, we might even go extinct. Imogen wants to prevent that while Sadie is apparently content to let the race quietly lapse into the memory of human history, nothing more than a blip in the timeline of their inferior race.”
I thought about it as class ended and we filed out of the room. In spite of Eudora’s obvious contempt for the pacifists’ approach, I wondered if Sadie wasn’t right. Maybe the vampire race should die out naturally.
We’d started by accident, after all, a side effect of traditional Chinese medicine.
Perhaps we should let nature run its course. I was certa
inly more drawn to the idea of coexisting peacefully with our human neighbors than to the thought of feeding on them.
It occurred to me that maybe I was living with the wrong group of vampires. Until today, I hadn’t even realized there was another way.
“You know what I don’t get,” Kelly said, breaking the chain of my private thoughts. “The Accord says it’s okay for vampires to drink directly from humans, as long as they don’t drain them and it’s with permission. So why isn’t everyone in the world a vampire by now?”
“You haven’t gotten to vampire biology yet, have you?” Heather asked.
Both Kelly and I shook our heads, and she went on.
“It takes a whole lot more than one bite for most vampires to turn somebody. There are different types of vampires, different levels, you know? Common vampires aren’t capable of turning a human with one bite. It takes a whole bunch of bites from like, fourteen or fifteen vampires to do the job. That’s why Kelly turned. If she’d been attacked by only a few common vampires that night, she would have stayed human. Because it was a swarm that found her, she got enough bites from enough different vampires in that one event to turn her.”
“What about you?” I asked. “You weren’t attacked. You said your boyfriend bit you.”
Heather gave us an impish grin. “Yes, but he wasn’t the first one. The bites are cumulative.”
Kelly’s eyes bulged, and her voice was filled with awe. “You’ve been with fifteen vampires?”
Heather laughed out loud. “What can I say? I’m a vamp tramp.”
In spite of her laughter, there was unspoken pain in her eyes. She’d loved the last one, and he’d left her to fend for herself in this new life.
Their stories made me wonder about my own origin.
I’d been bitten only once. So had Josiah. What did it mean?
12
Midnight in the Garden
