Dead Matter

by Anton Strout

  “I see you made it out of the Gauntlet’s creepy catacombs all right,” I said to him.

  “More or less,” he said. “Aidan and I ran into something down there, but I don’t really want to talk about it. It was . . . disturbing.”

  Aidan tensed next to me and I felt his discomfort radiating from him. “I don’t want to talk about it, either,” he said.

  “Good,” I said. “Then I don’t have to share my story about the awesome beating I took in prison before Team Undead came to my rescue.”

  Brandon stepped forward, addressing Aidan. “I trust there were minimal casualties . . . ?”

  Aidan paused, no doubt not wanting to rat out Beatriz for getting a little enthusiastic with her fighting. I looked over at her, but she was already turning away.

  I stepped forward. “Other than the large hole they tore in the side of the prison?” I said. “No. Although I kind of consider myself a kind of walking casualty, but that’s not their fault.”

  Connor came over and grabbed my face in his hands, checking me over. Although I had cleaned up most of the blood back at the storage unit, I was still a mess of bruises and cuts. “You okay, kid?”

  “It only hurts when I blink,” I said. “Or breathe. Although, truth be told, I think I was doing pretty well against Faisal and his crew for not having preternatural strength at my disposal. It took all five of them to take me down.”

  “Impressive,” Connor said, slapping his brother on the arm. “Right?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Aidan said, rather flatly. “By the time I got there, Simon here was lying on the floor in the fetal position.”

  “Yeah, well, it was a pretty ferocious fetal position, let me tell you.”

  “Forgive me if I seem a bit solipsistic,” Brandon said, “but what now? It seems your attempts at negotiation using Aidan have met with failure.”

  “Your concern is touching,” I said, feeling a swell of bitterness. “No, I’m fine, really.”

  “I am of course concerned for your well-being,” Brandon said. “You are an important part of all this.”

  I looked around the room at all the faces there. Some of them I knew and trusted; the rest were trusted by Brandon.

  “I was doing a little thinking,” I said, “what with my time in the joint . . .”

  Connor laughed. “All, what? Three hours of it?”

  I glared at him. “Well, I didn’t know it was going to be that short, now, did I?”

  Connor nodded. “Point to you, kid.”

  “Thank you,” I continued. “So when I was getting my ass handed to my by one of my old nemeses, I got to thinking. Dude had a lot of anger in him toward me. Why was he so angry with me? Because he had a cause he believed in. He had a way of life he wanted to promote and I denied him that. Mostly because he was big on evil and human sacrifice, which I think we all can agree is a bad thing. So I wondered the same about this situation . . . Is someone among you feeling denied here? I put myself into the mind-set of someone who would go to all this trouble just to see a war between the humans and the vampires. Why would they go forward with sabotage? Because they were unhappy with the way things are. And who here is unhappy? After getting to know some of you, it sounds like it could be half the population of this place who aren’t thrilled about one thing or another.”

  I walked through the sea of faces, addressing people as I passed them. “Aidan’s spent years wanting his memories back and I imagine there’s been a lot of anger built up over that loss, especially with Connor back in his life. And what about the members of your council? Sure, you can trust them, the way the gang at the Peach Pit trusted each other on 90210, but you see how that turned out every week. Not everyone sees eye to eye here.”

  “Impossible,” the tall blond named Gerard said, stepping forward. “You know nothing of our kind. Brandon’s word is law.”

  “But I do know your kind,” I said. “Despite what I hear you people claim over and over, you’re still human. You come from us. You can’t help it. It’s not a virus you can work out of your system, and even if you could, what do I see you people do with your downtime? You absorb human culture—with the movies you watch, the building you construct to hide yourselves. And you, Gerard, you’re as hotheaded as this human vampire hunter I know . . . Remember how you broke my bat?”

  I moved on. When I came to Nicholas he couldn’t bear to make eye contact with me, looking away. “And Nicholas, well, let’s just say he’s got some relationship issues a century or two of analysis might cure . . .”

  Aidan sighed. “Is there a point to all this?”

  “The point is this,” I said. “Somewhere in your ranks, there has to be someone who is terribly unhappy with their lot in the vampiric life.”

  Beatriz laughed and sidled over to Aidan, throwing her arm around him. “Did you come up with that all by yourself?”

  I gave her a placating smile. “I did.”

  “Forgive me,” Brandon said, “but I fail to see how that is supposed to help us. Other than taking my ego down a notch to hear about some of the unrest of my people.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “That alone really doesn’t amount to anything. There’s been all the problems trying to help you out with achieving the peace you want, the right to be left alone. Hell, I’ve risked my entire career trying to do the right thing by you . . . by Connor and Aidan, by Jane . . . only to be constantly stumped by someone covering their tracks all too well.”

  Jane walked over to me. “Brandon was filling me in on the prophecy,” she said. “I’ve had a little experience from reading up on them in my dealing with the Black Stacks at Tome, Sweet Tome. Like most prophecies, this one is as cryptic as the next, but to overcompensate for that, someone still tried to cover all the bases. They went out of their way to try and take care of anyone who might remotely be involved in it.”

  “Like who?” Brandon asked.

  “Me, for one,” Jane said. “Your building ate me. That wasn’t by accident. When I was trapped in there, I found traces of traps laid for me. Whoever did it covered it up well, but the building was waiting to contend with a technomancer.”

  Nicholas stepped forward. “Just to be clear, I never programmed something like that.”

  “And don’t forget when Simon and I were attacked by those ferals,” Jane said. “Not only did it try to ruin Taco Night, but someone set that thing loose on us.”

  “And then they used them a second time en masse to try and get rid of me right here on the castle grounds,” I said. “They even tried to dissuade Connor months ago from seeking out Aidan by sending that threatening letter to him.”

  “Were they trying to draw me out?” Connor asked. “Or were they hoping to start the war early between our two worlds?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, “but again, they’ve covered their tracks well. My power can’t break through any of it.”

  Brandon stood in silence, the lack of human traits such as respiration making him seem statuelike. “So it is to be war, then, between our two sides.”

  I held my hands up. “I don’t think we have to jump straight on the blood-running-in-the-streets bandwagon just yet.”

  “Then what would you have?” Brandon said, a snarl in his words.

  “Frankly, I’d like some answers,” I said, “and I think I know how to get them.”

  Everyone in the room fell silent and still, not just the ones who were already dead. I walked over to the fireplace and looked up at the painting above it, Brandon’s lost Damaris. “I got the idea thinking about you, actually.”

  “Me?” Brandon asked.

  I turned to look at him, nodding. “After I saw the man you used to be and the changed man I know now, I realized how important family is. There’s a strength in family. I’ve seen it in Connor, bringing him back from the edge of madness by getting to know his brother.” I walked over to Jane and took both her hands. “And I have family, too.”

  Jane smiled, but leaned close and whispere
d through it. “That’s sweet, but how does that help us?”

  “We can use our powers together,” I said. I looked at all the faces in the room. “Someone in here is responsible for all this chaos. I was able to read Perry down in the labs without much harm to myself because he’s not a living creature. Neither is anyone in this room, technically speaking.” I turned to address the gathered crowd. “So it’s simple. No one’s leaving this room until I read them with an assist from Jane.”

  Jane looked uncertain, one of her eyebrows raised. “You sure that’s going to work?”

  “Nope,” I said, “but we can try. As I psychometrically read all the vampires, we can link your technomancy to the traces you’ve found in the building systems, hopefully amplifying both our powers over those of the saboteur covering their tracks. Brandon, I’m assuming your little movie-watching room here hooks into the building’s systems?”

  He nodded.

  “Great,” I said, grabbing three chairs and arranging them by all the home-theater setup. “One for Jane, one for me, and one for our rotating guest of honor.” I looked out across the sea of faces. “Who’s up first?”

  No one moved. “Anybody?” I asked.

  The vampire Gerard stepped forward. He stared into my eyes, hate rolling off him in a wave. “I will not be subjected to this,” he said.

  Brandon stepped in front of him. “You will,” he said. He looked around the room. “You all will.” He stared Gerard down in a contest of wills until the blond vampire turned away and rejoined the group without another word. Brandon looked at his people all around the room. “Only the guilty party need worry themselves. No one is leaving and no one is exempt. Are we clear?”

  Brandon was met with silence. Whether it was in cooperation or not, I didn’t know, so I continued.

  “Great,” I said. “Who’s first?”

  There was another pause of deafening silence while I waited for someone to take action. It was Beatriz who raised her hand and sauntered forward after uncoiling herself from Aidan. “Let’s get this out of the way,” she said.

  “I’ve got an unlife I have to get back to.”

  “You’re cool with this?” Aidan called out.

  “If it’s going to stop all this uncomfortable silence,” she said, spinning around and blowing him a kiss. “Yes.”

  “Great,” I said, offering her my hand. “If you’ll just sit down here . . .”

  Beatriz’s hand closed on mine, but she didn’t sit. I wasn’t sure what happened exactly. All I knew was that I was in motion and no longer in Brandon’s chambers.

  31

  My arm felt sore, and why shouldn’t it? It wasn’t every day that a vampire nearly ripped it out of its socket as she blurred off to her top speed. At least, that was what I thought was happening. The wind whipped into my eyes and I had to close them, missing much of what was passing by me at an inhuman speed. When Beatriz finally stopped, I was thrown to the floor as something slammed shut with a loud click, but what, I didn’t know. I opened my eyes to find myself in a long rectangular room with little in the way of light in it.

  “Where are we?” I asked, trying to right myself. I put my hand down and felt it stick to the floor. Thank God for gloves. I looked down. The section of the floor where I had landed was covered in a slick of rusty red ick. Drying blood. That got me on my feet fast. Beatriz stood nearby watching me. “Where are we?” I repeated.

  Her face went full-on vampire, leathery and stretched over her features. “A private little chamber that the others shouldn’t be able to find. I guess that’s one of the perks of being around Castle Bran since the beginning.”

  In what little light was provided by the faint flickering of the wall sconces, I backed away, searching the room, always with an eye on her. This end looked to be a feeding area for her, and I stepped as quickly out of it as I could, walking to the other end. Civility seemed to rule the décor there—a small study filled with magical tomes and a desk covered with charms and spell components. It looked like Jane’s junk drawer back at the office.

  I needed to find a way out of here. If I could find the exit . . . That was when it struck me. There was no noticeable way out. I looked back over at the stained portion of the floor.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Want to find out?” Beatriz said, her entire manner changing like she was stepping off a stage. Her voice was different now from how I was used to hearing her. Gone was her modern, unaccented English. In fact, her whole demeanor and way of carrying herself had changed. There was an Old World poise about her now. An angered poise, but an old one.

  I took in a deep breath to keep from making any sudden moves, taking my time to sort things out in my head. I angled myself away from her slightly, hopefully turning my bat-wearing side out of her line of sight.

  I gave a slight twist of my arm to ready myself for grabbing it, but Beatriz shook her head no. “Can’t be having that,” she said, waggling her finger at me. She blurred toward me, put her pointer finger against her thumb, and then flicked it against my chest. The impact burned from the sheer force of it, even through my jacket, and it sent me across the room, over her desk and into the hard, rough stone of the wall. I slid down it and landed on the ancient heavy chair at her desk, toppling it over and rolling until I found myself pinned beneath it, the bulk of its weight against my ribs.

  I struggled to get up, but Beatriz leapt across the room, landing on top of the chair itself and driving it down onto me even harder. All the air left my lungs and I stopped struggling. Beatriz just sat there and looked down at me, shaking her head and giving an evil little smile.

  “Do you have any idea how difficult you made it to get you alone to kill you?” Beatriz asked. “You just had to keep on pushing and pushing . . .”

  She jumped down from the chair, picked it up like it was made of tissue paper, and set it down back in place. She grabbed me with one hand by the lapel of my leather jacket and hefted me up until I was standing again.

  “Sorry if I couldn’t accommodate you . . . ?” I said, wondering just what the hell she expected me to say to something like that. “You sound different.”

  “Good,” she said. “It’s pained me for some time as well in my current role.”

  “And what role is that?” I said, hoping to buy some time. I either needed to come up with a plan or else hope that Nicholas thought about this place after moving the castle to the States.

  “What role?” Beatriz repeated, giving a courtly curtsy that just looked odd on her, but she executed it with a practiced precision. “Why, the dutiful girlfriend. I did Brandon and Damaris’s bidding for centuries, united to what I thought was their cause, the superiority of our kind. Had I known he’d go all peacenik after his precious got dusted, Mr. Bleeding Heart, I would have ripped it from his chest.”

  “So is this the real you?” I said. “Or just one role among many? Show me the one you used to seduce Nicholas to your side . . .”

  Beatriz smiled. “Your concern for him is touching,” she said, “and yes, this is the real me. The monster. Do you know that Nicholas was too foolish to see my true nature when I courted him? I was surprised that he fell as hard as he did, but you know those religious types and their notions of romantic love. Utterly . . . predictable.”

  Beatriz balled up her fist and slammed it against the wall, shaking it. “You’ve all made this so hard,” she said, looking positively disgusted, “you humans. Look what I went through to try and finish you off. First, I thought I took care of Jane using the building and computers to eliminate her. Then I wrapped Aidan around my little finger just in case I had to deal with Connor, but now there’s you! If you weren’t around Aidan’s brother all the time, then Aidan or Brandon would be bothering me with one thing or another, making it near impossible to kill all of you. You humans are like cockroaches. You simply won’t die.”

  I needed an exit from there now. And only one of us knew where it was.

  “You want to t
ell me why you want any of us dead?” I said, stripping off one of my gloves. I raised my hands and touched her cold leathery skin. “Or I could try guessing. Although, frankly speaking, I’m one of the nicest people I know so . . .”

  My mind’s eye flashed open and I pressed a single thought into Beatriz’s mind. Door. The image of a hidden door straight across the room filled my brain. I pulled myself out of the vision and stared at the far wall. I definitely didn’t see one there, but thanks to Beatriz, I hoped I knew exactly where it was.

  “Get your hand off me,” Beatriz said, pulling it off her and pushing me away with some force. I staggered back, but it was what I had been hoping for. I was closer to the door. In the rush of my movement, I pulled my bat, clicked the button, and extended it. Beatriz looked at me, eyebrows raised. “You think you’re going to take me on with that?”

  “Well, since you want me dead, yeah,” I said. I remembered all the private sessions with the Inspectre training in unorthodox fighting techniques under the Fraternal Order of Goodness. He had looked comical with his chest padding with a painted heart on it and Dracula cape, but it had trained me in vampire combat.

  At least I hoped it had. There was a world of difference between theory and application.

  I swung the bat wide and to my left, making a very obvious and open attempt at hitting her, knowing full well where she had to move to avoid it. The second she blurred into motion, I used my swing momentum to reverse my shot into an empty spot nearby. The bat connected with a metallic thud as Beatriz appeared there, clutching at her shoulder.

  “I might not be able to follow your speed,” I said, starting another wild swing, “but I can anticipate you . . .”

  Beatriz took off again, and again I aimed into an empty space. She slammed into my bat once more, this time hitting her in the gut.

  “And if I can anticipate you,” I continued, gathering my strength for another swing, “I can beat you.”

  I started with a high swing this time, knowing full well she would try to duck it. The second she went to move, I corrected myself and dropped low with my arc, catching her in the legs. She clutched her leg, her face a mix of disbelief and fury. I backed toward the secret door and felt for where I had seen her closing it in the vision.