Deamhan

by Isaiyan Morrison

  She stretched her arms over her head, arched her back, and then swung her legs off the bed. The high-pitched voice of the perky morning newswoman caused Veronica to scowl. She’d left the TV on last night, feeling the need for human company, even if it came from an LCD screen.

  On unsteady feet, she wobbled toward the TV to silence the bubbly news anchor. No one should be so energetic at this hour, she thought. As she dodged the coffee table, an envelope propped against the remote control reflected the sunlight. A lump swelled in Veronica’s throat, and the taste of sour bile filled her mouth. With everything that happened, she forgot about the envelope Alexis had given her. Her hands trembled when she picked up the envelope and turned it over. A red wax emblem sealed the flap. She slid a fingernail beneath the wax and popped the seal. The envelope contained one small square of parchment. She stared at the handwritten words in disbelief:

  “11 pm, Saturday. Dark Sepulcher

  – Lambert”

  Veronica swallowed hard.

  Today is Saturday.

  Her hand flew to her neck, her fingers fluttering. Finally, she would come face to face with a person—if he was a person—who could help her. And at his request. She felt her heartbeat accelerate.

  Hmmm.

  Wait.

  It seemed too easy.

  Why would Alexis, a vampire who drained the fluid from her stomach, give her the opportunity? The fact that Alexis didn’t like her kind played fresh in Veronica’s mind. But then, it probably was Alexis who saved her from the Deamhan twins in the bathroom and again on the street. Now, she’d been invited to go back. Tonight. On the busiest night of the week.

  She grabbed her cell phone from the kitchen counter, anxious to speak with Sean.

  He answered on the first ring. “Sean, speaking.”

  His voice thrilled her. “Sean!” She heard the phone fumble.

  “Veronica?” He’d lowered his voice to a whisper. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Why are you whispering?”

  “You called me on my cell at the office.”

  “Oh . . . Are you in a meeting? Am I interrupting something?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” The tension in his voice relaxed. “You sound tired. Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” Two close calls with the Deamhan, my search for information is stalling, and now I’ve involved Murphy. Yeah, I’m dandy, all right.

  “Are you sure?” He sensed her shaky voice. He knew her better than she knew herself at times. He was always able to read her just by the twitching in her voice.

  She yawned and scrunched her nostrils to the smell of morning breath entering her nose. “I guess so. I went to the burnt home yesterday.”

  “Did you find anything?” Excitement colored Sean’s voice.

  “We didn’t find anything that could help me.”

  “We? Who did you go with?”

  Veronica felt Sean’s instant cooling through the phone.

  “Well,” she said, fidgeting with her nails. Her eyes locked on the broken red seal of the envelope lying on the coffee table. “Oh, no one. It’s not really important.”

  “What do you mean, ‘It’s not really important?’ ”

  “Really, it’s not.”

  “Veronica, what happened.” It wasn’t a question.

  Veronica let out a deep breath. She quickly regrouped, told him the details, careful to not place Murphy anywhere in her recap.

  “I took a taxi,” she said, crossing her fingers behind her back. In no way would she tell him about Murphy, at this point. As she continued her story, the lies compounded; the taxi driver waited while she searched the burned ruins, the blue van never appeared, and the men in black masks never existed.

  “So you went with the taxi driver?”

  She held her breath. Had he heard anything she’d said after that?

  “Yeah.” She mouthed a curse and covered her mouth. She hated lying to Sean, but she didn’t want to listen to his sermon just now. Besides, he really didn’t want to know the truth—not this truth—even if she was in the wrong.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “So what happened when you reached Dark Sepulcher?”

  She told him about the waitress and the bathroom incident, but lied again when she said she’d been alone when attacked outside of the club. She finished her deluded recap with the note from Alexis. She also decided to keep her protection status a secret, for now.

  “Don’t go back there,” Sean said immediately.

  Veronica expected his response, as her encounters always exploited his over-protectiveness.

  “You can’t go back there, Veronica. You almost got yourself killed.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “Alexis could’ve killed you.”

  “But she didn’t. She actually helped me.”

  “No vampire or Deamhan ever helps a human. It doesn’t happen, especially now. I warned you about this before you left San Diego.”

  “Don’t you think I know that, Sean? But what was I supposed to do? Refuse her help? I could’ve died.”

  “Look, they can’t be trusted,” Sean argued. “Not now. Not since they don’t follow their Dictum and their rules anymore.” He took a deep breath, and she knew he waited for her compliance.

  “That’s only a Brotherhood theory,” Veronica contested.

  “No, it isn’t. It’s reality. If you don’t believe me, ask Rick’s parents.”

  “Rick?”

  “Rick Sorfield.”

  “What does he have to do with it?”

  Sean sighed. “He was buried the other day.”

  “Buried? Sean, what happened?”

  “He was killed by a Deamhan.”

  “What? Rick?” What little Veronica knew about Rick came from Sean. They’d only had the most distant of acquaintances; she’d recognize him if they passed in the hallways of The Brotherhood’s office in San Diego, or they’d wave at company picnics. She wasn’t close to him like Sean was, but she knew him from their brief encounters. She didn’t know him like Sean knew him. Not even close.

  “Look, Veronica, it’s dangerous out there. I’m not kidding. The Deamhan have basically given up on their own rules. They kill everyone and anyone, including their own kind.”

  “But Sean, I only went to Dark Sepulcher because you told me it was vital to my search.”

  “I know, but . . .” Sean’s voice trailed off.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t back away now. I’m so close I can taste it.”

  “Just be careful, please. You know I’m behind you, Veronica. I’m always behind you.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the phone lines. Veronica heard Sean’s frustrated huffing and sighing.

  He once told her about the Deamhan’s Dictum and how they followed it and respected its rules religiously. The Brotherhood called it “The Deamhan Ten Commandments” and like the Ten Commandments from the Christian faith, it laid rules issued by the Ancient Deamhans centuries ago, during a time in which they were nearly driven to extinction. It favored secrecy; protection of sanctuaries; no killing or betraying your own kind; outlawed siring a Deamhan at a young age and feed only when necessary.

  Now they acted as if these rules never existed.

  Sean broke the stillness. “Your father spoke with me at Rick’s funeral,” he said. “He warned me about helping you, saying that my actions could cost me my position here.”

  “He did, did he?” Veronica felt heat creep into her face.

  “Yeah, well, the air is starting to get thick around here, anyway.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t worried. I just took it all in with ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir.’ ”

  “He hasn’t changed.”

  “Oh he has, believe me,” Sean replied. “I was thinking, Veronica, that maybe I should come out to Minneapolis to help you.”

  “What!?” Veronica replied in a high pitched voice. “Why would you? I thought you wanted to avoid any type of field research.”

 
“Yeah, I do but I just think that maybe I can help you more by being there.”

  Veronica paused. “You can’t just leave The Brotherhood like that, Sean. They won’t let you go.”

  “I know,” he replied. “Frankly, I don’t care.”

  Veronica propped her fist on her hip. She knew she couldn’t stop Sean if she wanted to. She considered him her carbon copy minus the fact he was male. Even so not once had he encountered a Deamhan. He’d never done field research because his parents were avidly against it. He was still a noob in progress. Still, something hounded her about his suggestion. It didn’t feel right.

  She chewed her lip. Why was he so curious to come see her? “Sean, The Brotherhood is the only thing you know,” she said sternly. “And besides, I need you there. Who else can I trust besides you, to get me information when I need it?”

  “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. Just thinking about everything you’ve been through since you got there made me realize that you’re not safe.”

  “You forget how well I know you. Being afraid for me can’t be the only reason you want to come here?”

  “What other reason should there be? If you go back to the club, I’m flying there. I mean it.”

  “Look, I don’t need a bodyguard,” she snapped. “If that’s what you’re suggesting, you can forget it.”

  “I never said that.”

  “I don’t think you could help me if you were here.” She laughed to ease the tension between them. “I simply can’t see you fighting a Deamhan.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I can’t, either. I could see myself running from a Deamhan, though.”

  “I can see that too.”

  “I never mastered the art of kick ass like you,” he joked back. “Remember when you beat up that jock in history class?”

  She grinned, remembering. “He deserved it.”

  Besides arguing with her father, she recalled her teenage years filled with arguments and fights at The Brotherhood. She wasn’t a fighter. In fact, she loathed confrontation to the point that she rarely voiced her opinion if a student made fun of her. She held her anger, and eventually it gathered inside her, releasing itself on a boy a little older than her, who tried to steal her lunch. It was her first fight, and she barely remembered punching him. Afterwards gossip circled around her high school. Suddenly she was the girl that others were afraid to mess with.

  “You laid him out flat, Veronica.” Sean laughed. “Two hits. You hit him, and he hit the ground.”

  “Yeah? Well, he had it coming. Was his name John or Don?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  She giggled, then grew serious. “This isn’t school anymore though, and the Deamhan are much stronger than a pimpled-faced jock.”

  “Knowing that, do you still intend to go back to Dark Sepulcher?”

  “You’d go back if you were in my shoes?”

  “Probably.”

  Veronica could hear Sean holding his breath. “Oh, you know you would, Sean.”

  “I would.” Sean’s words were slow, uncertain.

  “Why are you so adamant that I stay away from there?” Veronica asked. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

  “I know you’re curious, but just—just be careful, okay? I worry about you being alone there.”

  “This time I’m invited back, Sean,” she said. “This may be the break I’ve been looking for.” Veronica scratched her forehead. It occurred to her that their conversation had swerved off track, veering dangerously close to the fact that Murphy accompanied her. She changed the subject. “What about that information I wanted you to get for me?”

  “Still in progress,” he answered. “Truthfully, I’ll be surprised if I find a piece of scratch paper in their archives that hasn’t been lined out in permanent black ink.”

  A quick knock at her front door interrupted their conversation. She turned to look, seeing dark movement through the tiny space underneath the door. The shadow moved right then left.

  “What’s that?” Sean asked.

  “Someone’s at my door.” Veronica walked toward the door. “Hey, can you look up something for me?”

  “Yeah. What?”

  “A name.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Lambert. It’s the name on my invite.” Veronica looked through the peephole. “And I don’t know if he’s a Deamhan. He might be the vampire who owns Dark Sepulcher.” She saw Murphy through the peephole, staring at the floor, patiently waiting.

  “Okay.” Sean sounded unsure.

  “And one more thing. . .” Veronica smoothed back her hair and moistened her lips.

  “Sure.”

  “I remember you mentioned something about sanctuaries being burned and that The Brotherhood speculated they were Deamhan sanctuaries. Do you think you can find the locations of other sanctuaries in Minneapolis?”

  “I can check.”

  “Thanks, Sean. For everything.” She put her hand on the door’s chain guard, rattling it so that Murphy wouldn’t leave.

  “Yeah,” he said. He sounded nervous. “No problem. Almost all of the files here are secured so it might take a while. The new archive location your father commissioned to be built years ago is heavily guarded.”

  “They’re no longer accessible?” Veronica’s hand halted on the doorknob.

  “I can still get them,” Sean said, with an egotistical edge to his voice. “It just means that now I might have to do some late night rummaging.”

  “Thanks. I owe you tons.”

  “You’re the one that’s in an off-limits zone, sweetie,” he replied. “You need to be careful.” Murphy quickly knocked on the door again, grabbing Sean’s attention. “You got company?” Sean asked again.

  “Just my next door neighbor.”

  “Hmm, you want some information on him, too?” he joked.

  “Shut up,” Veronica joked back. “And call me back this afternoon.”

  “What about tomorrow night?”

  “No, this afternoon.”

  Murphy knocked again. “Veronica, are you okay?”

  She heard his muffled voice through the door.

  Sean chuckled. “You’d better answer, Veronica.”

  “I’ll talk with you later.” Veronica snapped her cell phone shut and opened the door.

  Murphy immediately looked up at her.

  “Hey, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” He smiled.

  Disturbing me? His sudden appearance thrilled her but she viewed her uncombed hair and morning breath being far from looking her best.

  “Oh, no, I just woke up.” She covered her mouth. “I haven’t had time to brush my teeth. What’s up?”

  “Oh.” His eyes jumped from her face to the floor. “Sorry. Want me to come back?”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

  “Oh, nothing.” He looked into her eyes and smiled as a hint of red crept into his cheeks. “I just came to check in on you, see if you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” Veronica felt a flutter in her stomach. “How did you sleep last night?”

  “Good”—he nodded, as if trying to convince himself—“better than I thought I would.” He nervously scratched the back of his head. “Yesterday was intense, huh?” He cocked a half-smile. “It’s weird. I know I’m going to be looking over my shoulder if I leave my apartment at night.”

  “Everyone should.”

  “Only if they knew. Well after yesterday, I was curious, and I looked on the Internet for the Deamhan.”

  “The Internet?” Veronica felt her eyes bulge.

  “Yeah,” Murphy said, nodding. “Did you know that Deamhan means demon of the air in Irish tradition. In English it means evil and of course demon.”

  “No, I didn’t know that.” Veronica slowly smiled and her brow scrunched. She didn’t know where he was going with the conversation.

  “I also looked up Lugat. Did you know that a Lugat was a creature that people considered harmless? They only feed on
victims for a short period of time. Yeah . . . well these Lugats in Minneapolis seem far from harmless.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Veronica leaned against the doorway.

  “Why would they call them Lugat?” he continued. “Those Deamhan don’t resemble a Lugat.”

  “Why call them Deamhan?” Veronica offered. “I don’t know, Murphy. Hey, ummm, I have some stuff to do and—I don’t mean to cut you off.”

  He nodded, staring at the floor in thought.

  Veronica guessed his curiosity was natural, especially after last night, but she didn’t want his interest and research on the Deamhan to go any further. He had no idea of the danger he could face.

  He stole a sheepish glance at her and smiled. “Yeah, I have some things to do myself. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you later.” He turned away, then turned back to face her. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?”

  “Plans?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets. “I have these two tickets to a comedy show in downtown Minneapolis. My friend chickened out at the last minute. Do you want to go?”

  He handed the tickets to Veronica and she glanced over them. Two front row seats, sixty-nine bucks each. She felt it again, this falling feeling. It felt like rocks tickling her insides. Her face flushed. A date?

  “Too much caffeine on an empty stomach,” she said, feeling a foolish grin spread across her face.

  He’s so cute, so sweet, so—stop it.

  She didn’t want the romance. She didn’t need it. Not now, maybe not ever. Yet, she felt drawn to him.

  “Sure,” she said, more brightly than she’d intended.

  So much for doubtful thoughts.

  You sound like an over-eager schoolgirl.

  His face brightened and, for a brief moment, it glowed. “Great.”

  “Sounds like fun. Besides, I could use a few laughs.”

  Murphy nodded. “After maybe we can hit a bar or something. Unless you don’t drink.”