He dodged around a copse of junipers and slipped into a full-out sprint. The icy wind clawed feebly at the flesh of his face. He felt it stinging his cheeks—somehow knowing that it would bloody mere mortal flesh.
The pack, not yet aware of his approach, stood, sat, or lay down in the middle of a relatively empty field.
He skipped around a stand of sage and leaped, one surge of his thighs hurling him fifty feet into their midst. One dog, a large black and brown beast, snarled and dropped into a crouch as the others spun wildly to center on this sudden threat, growls rising in their own throats.
Barely a blur, Cory flung himself straight at the alpha. The great gray and white animal looked more wolf than dog. Standing two feet at the shoulders, six and a half feet from nose to tail, the lead dog didn't try to flee. It turned and met his charge head on.
It was like being hit by a truck. Cory and the wolf-dog slammed into one another. Growls ripped from its throat as its fangs flashed in his face. He reached up and caught its muzzle mid-lunge in one hand. He yanked the muzzle sideways and drove his face into the creature's neck.
The Thirst ignited. Immense waves of pleasure shot through him as the blood—molten heat and sweet fire—pumped down his throat with each swallow. It took nearly everything he had not to drink the dog completely. He dropped to his knees and set the beast gently on the ground.
He looked around him. The stunned dog pack stood staring, a few lips raised in silent snarls. “SIT!” he roared.
Six feral dogs dropped their butts. The dog he'd savaged, whimpering and shivering, drew Cory's attention ... and pity. He drew one razor sharp fingernail across the inside of his wrist. Blood poured freely from the slash as he lowered it to the dog's mouth.
The dog licked the blood gushing from his arm with a sort of thirst of its own. After a moment he drew his arm back. The dog slowly rolled over and lay with its head between its paws. It whined again, but a different sort of whine this time.
You will come when I call, he told it. You will lead your pack against my enemies.
It was not a question. Blood bound them now.
* * * *
He sprinted toward the north, leaving the pack behind him. When he hit the highway he tracked it east a ways until he found what he was looking for. As the highway dipped through a man-carved canyon, he spied a semi passing through and moved to intersect it.
He took one long step from cliff to truck and fell into a crouch atop the trailer roof. He leaped from truck to store roof as it pulled into the back of a grocery store.
He spent a few moments getting his bearings, then cut across town at an easy trot.
* * * *
Tap. Tap. Tap. Cory stood just outside Ben's window, tapping the glass with an index finger. A second later the curtains were thrust aside and Ben's face appeared. “Let me in,” he mouthed, motioning toward the window latch.
Ben's eyes grew wide as he leaned forward in the window and stared out past Cory at the ground some ten feet down. “What are you standing on?"
"Just goddam let me in, will ya?"
Ben unlatched the window and took a step back. “Man, where have you been? Are you okay?"
"Depends on what you consider ‘okay',” Cory said with a secretive smile as he slid inside. “How about you? Were you hurt when...” He let his voice trail off.
"My arm was gashed open. How'd you get away?"
"I didn't. You aren't going to believe this ... I received the Kiss!"
Ben shook his head in puzzlement. “The Kiss...? What?"
"The Kiss of the Undying,” Cory said, knowing Ben would recognize the words from the title of the game they both played. Nosferatu—The Kiss of the Undying. “I'm a vampire."
Ben lifted an eyebrow and kinda smirked as he returned his gaze. He dropped his gaze for a quick scan of Cory's fingernails. Cory already knew ... they gleamed like abalone shells. Ben went pale. Cory's sensitive ears heard his heartbeat stutter a little. It suddenly began to gain momentum as he stared at the dark-haired boy. He abruptly turned and dove across his bed in a desperate lunge for his nightstand. He yanked the drawer open and snatched something out. He jumped to his feet beside the bed and held it up. A silver crucifix spun slowly on a twisted chain. “Get away!"
Cory hadn't moved an inch, though he winced at the sight of the cross. “That's not going to do anything,” he told his friend, shaking his head sadly. “I guess I'm not that kind of vampire."
"I never really believed,” Ben almost sobbed. “Go away, Cory. Just go away. It was just a game to me ... I never meant ... never wanted ... damn it—I revoke my invitation! Get out!"
"It doesn't have to be like this, Ben. I just wanted to share this..."
"The Lord is my Shepherd...” Ben murmured, holding the cross against his chest. “I shall not wont. He maketh me lie in green pastures..."
Tears rolled down his cheeks as his eyes darted around the room, trying desperately to look at anything but Cory. “Oh, please! Christ, make it go away!"
With a strangled sob, Cory whirled and threw himself back out the window. His own eyes wet with tears, he fled into the night.
* * * *
Rachel tucked the cup of coffee against her body and hunched her shoulders against the cold west wind. “You can't be serious."
"As a heart attack. Your ‘vampire’ murders are being committed by a real vampire. She was attacked and turned in Olympia about a year ago. It's all part of the twisted tale of ‘Everybody's Dead’ Dave.
"To put it simply, all of this was an accident. This ... unsanctioned researcher ... was trying to find a cure for AIDS. He tried out a new viral serum on his girlfriend, who was already dying of it. It cured her all right. It cured her by killing her.
"She's no longer human. No longer eats or drinks like you or me. The virus is transforming the cells of her body and using blood as the catalyst. It's all her body needs now.
"They snatched ol’ ‘Everybody's Dead’ Dave off the street one night. Dave was a hit man for the mob. And, from what I understand, a damn good one.
"I guess they wanted to see if the virus would transfer. Needless to say, it does, if the victim is drained to the point they might die anyway. The virus doesn't have a lot of protection against normal human antibodies. It's only if the immune system shuts down that it can over. That can be at the point of death. The virus works fast, initially. The transformation takes three days.
"They were supposed to kill him, but didn't. Eventually, he escaped. Bit and drained Veronica that night, dragging her out into the woods and tossing some dirt over her.
"In Portland he turned at least one more. We haven't been able to track him any farther. He's gone into stealth mode. Vampires are harder than hell to spot ... especially if they're using their mind tricks to blend in.
"They don't always move like a human being. They're faster, stronger, and gifted with the kind of grace an Olympic gymnast might envy. And their fingernails. As sharp as tempered glass, but with the look of an abalone shell."
"And the way Ben was cut open..."
"...could easily have been done by a vampire's nails."
"So Cory—"
"—could have been taken by any of the four existing vampires ... I'm not counting the originator in this. She doesn't hunt humans ... as a general rule. She has a much more puissant source of blood."
"The killer ... Veronica, is it? ... could she have snatched him?"
"Sure. But why? For a snack? Or for a more sinister purpose? To turn him? I don't think she's turned a male yet. She'll drink ‘em dry, but then she'll destroy the brainstem so the victim doesn't rise. Everyone left in her path except for a lucky few have ended up quite dead. Until tonight, I didn't think she'd made any progeny at all.
Rachel shivered as she stared down at the ground. It sounded unreal, like a campfire tale, but she could help but believe it. Something within her spoke of the truth of it. “My God. How do you protect yourself?"
"From vampires? Not eas
ily. The old myths have little to do with these creatures. There were only four until tonight. All of them seem to have different powers. Crosses don't seem to work, but I'd recommend you carry one anyway. Can't hurt."
"Okay. What else?"
"Holy water? Forget it. Holy ground? Maybe. Reports indicate that Veronica won't invade a church. Whatever that says about her.” He shrugged. “Your town is in trouble, Rachel. Right now there are at least two vampires out there, plus possibly a third. Damn near everything you ever thought about them isn't true. And, because you carry a badge, it's your job to do something about it ... How does it feel?"
She lifted her head and leveled a cold yet burning gaze on him. “Like we'd better start tracking this bitch down. What about daylight?"
"She doesn't come out during the day. Don't know if she's sleeping or what ... never had the chance to find out.
"How do you kill them?"
"We don't know."
"That's helpful."
"Dave was supposed to die. That would've told us something. But he got away instead. Vamps are tough—we're not sure we could take them on with a full ninja team."
"You got any?"
He didn't answer that. She snorted and took another drink of coffee. “So how are you going to help me find Cory?"
"I need something of his. Something intimately connected to him. If you've got a hairbrush with his hair ... that would do. Something personal like a photograph also wouldn't hurt."
"I can do that.” She met his gaze squarely now, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “Follow me back to my place?"
He nodded. “I can do that,” he said with a grin.
* * * *
Cory stood out by the street, beneath a sturdy pine tree, watching his house. The lights were all out and nothing moved. He'd already considered, and dismissed, approaching his mother right away. She wasn't ready for this.
He wasn't ready for this.
His senses scanned the neighborhood, building an image dimension by dimension—sight, smell, hearing. He could hear Mrs. Fowler letting her little yapper out the back door. Kizmet, her Pomeranian, was the loudest dog in the neighborhood. If he caught one whiff of Cory, he'd let everyone know about it.
In his neighborhood too many people let their animals run loose. Damn silly in a town with nearly as large a coyote population as human, but ... he shrugged. If the Pom had lived this long, he obviously had some defense against the marauders.
He let that map roll through his head one more time, then dashed across the street, clearing the five foot chain-link fence in a single effortless bound. Once in his yard, he headed for the back door, digging his key out of his pocket.
He slipped inside and stood just inside the doorway, listening. Was Mira upstairs, sleeping? He caught no sound of heartbeats, no smell of warm human flesh. Must be at Julia's. Made sense. It would certainly ease his mother's mind to have her somewhere safe rather than home alone.
Where was his mother, anyway? Out looking for me, probably. That thought made him feel guilty. Hiding from her wasn't something he wanted to do, but what choice did he have? After seeing Ben's reaction, how could he risk her turning on him, too?
Who else did he have?
::You smell different.::
Huh? It was almost a voice, though it echoed in his head, not the kitchen. He looked around suddenly and saw Rowdy sitting on his haunches in the kitchen's other doorway. The dog cocked his head and watched Cory impassively. “Hi, Rowdy,” he whispered.
The Shiba trotted across the tile, tail wagging slightly as he shoved his nose in Cory's crotch. ::Yep. You smell different, but you're you.:: The tail swished through the air. ::Good to see you, kid. Was worried about you.::
"Well, thanks, I guess". Am I really talking to the damn dog? What's going on here?
::You smell of other dogs.:: He sniffed at his leg. ::An alpha.::
"Yeah.” He reached down and scratched behind the dog's ear.
::A little farther back. Yeah, that's it. Oooh, that feels so good.:
"I picked up some new friends.” Okay, this is just too weird.
::Friends are good.::
"Well, they might be coming around sometimes. You gotta let them hang around."
Rowdy growled softly. ::If I have to, I will. Not gonna like it, though.::
"I didn't think you would. I'm going to be sleeping in the basement. During the day. I need watchers to keep me safe."
::I will watch. I will allow them to watch. Nothing will happen to the Boy.:: He clearly meant Cory. He smiled and reached to scratch again. ::Ah, good.::
A car turned onto the street and pulled up in front of the house. Shit. Mom!
"Don't say a word,” he told the dog ... quite unnecessarily. He paused a second to ponder the absurdity that he'd actually said that, then bolted upstairs, moving with the kind of silent grace a cat would envy.
* * * *
Rachel turned the key and pushed. The front door swung open and she stopped, one foot hovering above the entry floor. “Someone's been here.” She drew her Glock and eased around the corner. I'm getting really tired of doing this in my own house.
Rowdy trotted out of the back and she relaxed. He seemed pretty much his usual self, grinning and wagging his tail at her. He gave Chase a disinterested sniff and vanished again into the back of the house.
"Pretty dog. What kind?"
"Shiba Inu. Small Japanese hunting breed. That's Rowdy."
* * * *
Cory crouched at the top of the stairs, listening. Who was with her? He didn't recognize the voice. He sniffed at the air, smelling confidence, strength, and a hint of mysterious motivations. Not a boyfriend, though I doubt he'd object.
He let himself be swallowed by shadow as they walked past the staircase. “Would you like a drink?” his mom asked the stranger.
"Love one. What do you have?"
"Rum or bourbon,” she said, “or pop, if you prefer."
"Water will do,” he said.
She nodded and headed for the kitchen.
He stayed put, eying the artwork on the walls. Some of it was Cory's, though he'd begged her not to tell anyone that. So far he'd never heard anything but compliments about it.
His eyes rested a long time on the one he'd done of a vampire leaving, or entering, mist form. The upper body was fully defined, definitely feminine, while the lower body didn't exist at all other than as a fine mist spread across the lower half of the canvas.
Not one for mangling his awareness with alcohol, Cory mused. Like to stay in control. Something to keep in mind.
So who the hell are you?
* * * *
Rachel came out of the kitchen with a tall glass of cold water from the dispenser on the fridge. She handed it over and he took a couple large swallows. “I was thirsty,” he replied to her questioning look. “So, can you grab a few of his things?"
"Am I entitled to know what you're planning with them? You have a bloodhound in your back pocket or something?"
"Or something,” he responded. He folded his arms and leaned against the banister. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Oooh. Ten points off for spurious use of a cliché. Try me."
Her eyes sparkled as she leaned against the banister in a conscious imitation of his casual pose. “So ... are you just going to stand there, or are you going to tell me what you're going to do?"
"I'm going to cast a spell,” he told her soberly.
One eyebrow shot up. “Oh?” Her lips quirked into a slight smile. “What kind of spell?"
"A seeking,” he told her. “Not like that means anything to you."
"Nope. Had a friend in college who was Wiccan. Somehow I don't think that's the kind of thing you're talking about."
"I'm talking about real magic. Wicca is a religion first. They may have some skill in the subtler charms, but I'm talking the kind of stuff that hasn't been seen since the days of the Black Death."
He was bragging. She almost
laughed at him but managed to contain it at the last second. He was a gem, all right. A mysterious doctor with self-described supernatural powers? Okay, so he might be a touch insane, but what the hell, right? It was probably a pretty harmless delusion, if delusion it was. She decided to reserve judgment for the time being. If nothing else, he was certainly intriguing. After all, I believed him about the vampires, didn't I? Might as well give him the benefit of the doubt.
But I can't believe he made me beg him to help me find Cory.
"Back in a sec.” She dashed upstairs.
* * * *
Cory sank back farther into the shadows, hoping she wouldn't turn on the light. She didn't. She jogged past and disappeared into his bedroom. The stranger was at the bottom of stairs. Cory slipped into her room, silent as a ghost.
She came out a moment later, taking the stairs three at a time on the way down. Cory frowned. She was sure in a hurry. Cast a spell? Huh. Well, if vampires, why not magic?
The stranger and his mother exchanged a few more words, but within minutes he was gone. Cory heard his mother dialing her cell phone.
"Hi, Becky. How are you? That's good. Is Miranda available? Oh, they did? Okay. Well, tell her to call me when she gets back. Okay. Thanks, Becky. Bye."
Mira was at Julia's. For some reason that made him feel a bit better. He wasn't ready to face her yet either. Hell, he wasn't sure he could face anyone. The fear and horror on Ben's face flashed through his mind's eye and he sighed.
He heard his mother in the kitchen clanging around for a while. A glance at the clock on his mother's dresser showed the time at 12:20. Still early, by his reckoning. Time to go play a little, he decided.
He slowly and quietly slid the window open and climbed over the sill. He dropped to the ground and, drawing the shadows around him, strode off into the swallowing dark.
He had company, he realized. His wolf-dog and the pack shadowed him somewhere to his left. He sent a silent greeting, certain that the animal had caught his thought.
One thing about a town the size of Redburn was that it rolled up the sidewalks not too long after dark. The bars might be open, but he certainly wasn't going to get into one of them, even if he did want to risk being spotted by someone he knew by heading somewhere public.
Of Man and Monster Page 4
