by Mac Flynn
I pushed off from my visitor and smiled. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-" Wow. This guy was a looker.
I'm not talking about some cute guy you see on the street. This guy belonged in one of those model magazines, the ones with weight-loss ads and promises to make any teenage girl into a sexy cougar kitten in ten easy steps. He had short, perfect blond hair swept back to show off a perfectly sculptured forehead. His perfect blue suit was wrinkle-free after our collision, and his black shoes were so clean I could see my reflection. He wore thick-framed black glasses in front of his sparking green eyes and had a smile that would've made Candy's knees shake so bad you could've heard the water splash. The only thing that messed up his perfect face was his hand. His nostrils flared like a bull and he slipped his hand over his face. I couldn't blame him, not when I walked around like an Italian pizza.
"Where's the fire?" he teased.
Any other time and I might have thought about giving him the time of day, but time and I were not on friendly terms right then. I needed to get somewhere before the wooden bomb in my hands decided it wanted to blow its foggy top.
"Sorry about that," I told him as slid around him.
He grabbed my arm and stopped my escape. "Wait. You're Miss Misty-"
"I'd love to chat, but I've got to get to work," I persisted. I tried to pull myself out of his hand, but it was like trying to get out of a required health class. Teacher wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.
"I really must speak with you," the man insisted. He pulled out a card from inside his suit and held it out to me. "My name is Owen Alston."
I took the card and read the name. It was the one he gave, but he forgot the part about him being a lawyer. "What do you want from me?" I asked him.
"One of my clients would very much like to speak with you," he explained.
"I'd love to, but I really need to go." I twisted my arm from his grasp and faced him as I walked backwards down the hall. "Maybe some other time."
"My client demands it be tonight," Alston persisted.
I shook my head. "I really can't."
"He will be very displeased if I don't bring you to him," the lawyer told me.
"Well, tell him I died or something," I suggested.
A strange smile slipped onto his cute lips. "I'm afraid he would know I am lying."
"Just think of it as practice, but I really have to go," I insisted.
I spun around and ran down the hallway to the stairs. The guy didn't follow me, but my thoughts followed him as I rushed to my car parked on the street. I wondered if I'd just passed up an opportunity to get into an unknown rich relative's will, or maybe I inherited a haunted mansion that would end up killing me with upkeep costs. Whatever he wanted could wait until tomorrow. I had his card, and with internet and a few minutes a name was as good as a phone number.
I stomped on the gas and drove like the devil was after me. Stop signs were more of a guideline as I sped through town and out into the country. I hit the country road half an hour before sunset, and hit the end of the road fifteen minutes before my shift began. I snatched the box from the passenger seat and dashed through the spooky woods to the house. The sun must have known I was in a hurry because I swear it dropped faster the closer I got to that place. I rushed up the stairs and across the porch to the door.
That's when I remembered I didn't have the key. It was in my day-off clothes, and they were in the hamper at my house. Behind me the setting sun disappeared behind the horizon. I groaned and knocked my forehead against the door.
"Can this day get any worse?" I wondered aloud.
I heard a girly giggle behind me and turned around to find the creepy little girl standing at the bottom of the porch steps. She wore the same dress, but now it was completely black.
"Thank you for leading me to him and the box," she told me as she walked up the steps. "Now I can have both of them."
CHAPTER 7
I slid against the peeling front wall of the house as she walked up the steps. "If you're here to sell Girl Scout cookies, I'm on a diet," I told her.
She giggled. I hated that sound. It made the ends of my hair stand on end. "You're funny. I'm going to be very sad when I have to kill you."
"Then don't," I quipped.
She shook her head and her curls bounced. "I'm afraid I can't do that. You know too much."
"I don't know how the hell you found me," I commented.
"You didn't check the trunk of your car," she cooed.
"You know, it's not a good idea to hitch a ride with a stranger," I told her.
She reached out for me. "We can talk later after I get that box."
I gripped the box against myself and stepped past one of the front windows. "Over my dead body."
"All right." The girl snarled, and I saw her teeth were long and pointy. Also very clean. She was a dentist's dream child, but my worst nightmare. The girl jumped at me, but she got within a foot before her eyes went all wide and she stumbled back. She flung up one arm and hissed at me. "Garlic!"
I was out of the frying pan and into the fire when a shadow flew through the window beside me and the glass burst into thousands of tiny shards. They rained down on me, and I raised my arm and turned away to keep my face from turning into hamburger patty. The little girl screamed, and I peeked over my arm. The Village-of-the-Damned reject hung three feet off the ground and had her neck draped in the grip of Roland, or whatever his name was. He held her over his face and snarled at her.
"You don't know what powers you are dealing with," he warned her.
She sneered at him. "More than you know." She swung forward and kicked him in the face with the soles of her dainty shoes. He cried out and stumbled back. She dropped to the ground and jumped backwards off the porch. Her little jump dropped her fifteen yards from the porch where she glared at us with her little red eyes. "You can't protect it forever, and when you slip I'll be there."
"We'll be sure to leave the lights on," I quipped.
The little girl gave me one last parting farewell glance that promised a lot of pain, and then she turned tail and raced into the woods. That girl had small legs, but she could really sprint. In a few seconds she was gone.
That left me and the vampire. The other vampire. He turned to me and his red eyes told me he wasn't too pleased.
He stalked towards me with his hands balled into fists at his sides. "What are you doing here? I told you to keep the box safe," he growled.
You might have gotten the impression by now that I wasn't very ladylike, but I'll tell you something that'll prove you wrong. After all that stupid excitement I fainted. It was a good faint, too. I didn't even remember falling. One minute the world blacked out, and the next my eyes were fluttering open like a mad butterfly trying to escape a cat.
The world was a fuzzy television until my eyes focused on a dark shape in front of me. The shape formed into a pale face with sharp teeth. My eyes widened and I scooted back, or tried to. My back was already against the peeling front wall of the house. My legs were stretched out in front of me and the box sat in my lap.
The vampire smiled. "I'm glad to see you remember me. You hit your head quite hard on the way down and I was afraid there was some damage."
"Only the brain damage that convinced me to come here this late," I quipped. I picked up the box and shoved it at him. His nostrils flared and he leaned away from me, but not out of my reach with the box. "Take this thing back. It's got more bad luck than a valley full of mummies."
He placed his palms on the opposite side of the box and pushed it towards me. "I must insist that you keep it."
I pushed it back. "I don't want it."
"You must take it."
"No, you have to take it."
"It must be kept with you."
"I said take it back!"
The box decided to end the argument by venting some steam from beneath its lid. I'd seen this trick before and didn't want to end up with the nickname of 'Stumpy,' so I dropped it and scooted
backwards across the porch. The vampire grabbed the bottom of the box and the fog crawled over his hands. I expected screams of pain, or at least an ouch, but he just knelt there holding the damned thing.
"I know the box is terrifying, but it must be kept in safe hands during the day and night," he insisted.
"My taxes are terrifying, that thing is deadly," I retorted. As I spoke the fog crawled back into its wooden hole. The vampire's hands were as pale and ten-digited as before. I frowned and pointed at his hands. "How'd you do that?"
He smiled. "My own soul will not harm me."
I snorted. "I may work at a diner, but that doesn't me I was born yesterday. Vampires don't have souls."
He bowed his head. "I submit to your correction, but I am an exception."
The vampire stood and walked over to me. I scooted back until my hand touched air behind me. I fell backwards over the side of the porch and onto the leaf-covered ground. It was a soft, if squishy, landing, but the pile of leaves was so deep that they covered me over my head. I came up sputtering twigs and leaves. I know I needed my vegetables, but they could have at least been cooked.
The vampire came to the edge of the porch and knelt there. "You would be more comfortable inside," he teased.
"I'd be more comfortable if you'd leave me alone," I quipped.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't do that, not anymore. You've dived too deep into the rabbit hole."
"And me without my hunting gun. . ." I muttered.
He held out one of his hands to me and caught my eyes. "I promise I won't harm you."
I glanced between his pale hand and pale face. "I suppose you haven't done any biting yet, but if I get so much as a hicky from you you're going to get a bad sunburn."
He smiled and bowed his head. "Agreed."
I took his hand and he lifted me out of the leaf pile and plopped my feet on the porch. He steered clear of my garlic-covered neck and gestured to the front door. "If you would follow me."
I wasn't feeling too smart when the vampire led me through the unlocked door and into the house. I hadn't even tried the knob before I'd knocked my head against the entrance. We stepped into his parlor. His coffin was still on the floor, but the lid was open. The inside was stuffed with red silken padding. It looked pretty comfy, but I didn't have any future plans of testing it out.
He gestured to the couch on the opposite side of the table from the coffin. "If you would please be seated." I took a seat and he placed the box on the coffee table between us. "As I'm sure you've realized, I am a creature of the night."
"And annoying," I added.
He smiled. "I prefer to think of myself as diligent."
"And I like to think of myself as rich and famous, but that ain't happening," I quipped.
"It may if you will help me," he countered.
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening." He tapped the top of the box. I jumped against the back of the couch. "Don't do that! It's already claimed two victims at my apartment!"
The vampire tensed. "It has killed?"
I slid back onto my cushion and shrugged. "Well, not exactly people, but I was fond of that rug."
He relaxed. "I see. I'm glad to hear it hasn't harmed anyone."
I looked him up and down. "Not to sound really racist or anything-"
"Vampires are not a race. We are a species of human outside the realm of mortality," he corrected me.
"Well, not to sound mortalist or anything, but why should a vampire care if somebody didn't die? Don't you kill us to survive?" I pointed out.
He shook his head. "Not I, but there are those of my kind who do feed until their victim is dead."
"So you're not going to use me as a twenty-four hour blood bank?" I questioned him.
He smiled. "Only if you wish it."
"Which I don't," I told him.
"Then it will not be so. As for this-" he placed his hand on the box, "-my soul knows there is no danger from its master, so no fog will appear unless I try to force my way into the box."
"So you have the key or something?" I wondered.
His smile slid off his lips and he shook his head. "No. I was only able to capture my Soul Box and make my escape. The key remains with-well, with the one who held my soul."
I held up a hand. "Wait a minute. Who'd you steal your soul from? Some guy on a street corner?"
"He can be found in those places," the vampire agreed.
I glared at him and stood. "Listen, I don't do business with anybody who isn't being completely honest with me, and you're not 'fessing up. That usually means it's more trouble than it's worth, so I'm out." I went for the door, but the vampire slipped in front of me like a floating phantom.
He held his arms out on either side of him and looked me in the eyes. "Please. I'm in desperate need of your help."
I folded my arms across my chest and leaned on one leg. "And I'm in need of answers. Either you 'fess up or you can go to the devil for all I care."
A strange half crooked smile slipped onto his lips. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea. You see, that's who I stole my soul from."
CHAPTER 8
I tilted my head to one side and scrunched up my face. "You're joking, right?"
He shook his head. "I don't joke about matters of the heart and soul."
I pointed at him and then the box. "So you stole your own soul from the devil?"
"You've got it."
"No, I don't have it," I argued as I put my hands on my hips. "A vampire steals his soul from the devil, locks it up in a box, and tries to pawn it off on a couple of humans?"
"I didn't lock it in the box. The devil did that," the vampire told me.
"Fine, you didn't lock it up, but why the hell did you give it to me?" I persisted.
"Because I need someone to ensure its safety during the day," he revealed.
"Don't you have a spare coffin you could hide it in?" I suggested.
"If it's left unattended the devil would be able to take it back, and then I would be in a great deal of trouble," the vampire explained.
"Then I'd say you've got yourself in a real pickle, and I don't see my way of joining this hamburger stand without getting cooked," I retorted.
"Must I get on my hands and knees to beg for your help?" he wondered.
I looked him over. His face told me he was desperate and cute, but maybe not cute enough. I sighed and folded my arms. "That would be a start, but where do I fit in this exactly? I'm supposed to do what with the box during the day? Babysit it?"
"In a way," he admitted. He passed me and picked up the box. I noticed a slight glow come from beneath the lid. It illuminated his pale face and I noticed his features softened. "It's difficult to explain the loss of one's soul to one who still possesses theirs, but being without a soul is like being without a part of one's self. There's a hole there that can't be filled with simple pleasures, and a sense of loss that can't be forgotten. It would be as though you lived your life, but you could never enjoy its sweetness." A small smile slipped onto his lips and he looked up at me. "I'm afraid I'm terrible at explaining it, but that is what it feels like to be without a soul. A loss without end."
I nodded at the box. "And you stole your soul back so you could end it?"
He nodded and set the box back on the table. "Yes, but I find myself only halfway there. I have my soul, but not the key."
"Where's that?" I asked him.
"The devil possesses it, and he seeks to regain my soul," he told me.
"He must be the worst repo man in the world," I quipped.
"In any of the three worlds. Heaven, hell, and on earth," the vampire agreed. He turned to me and looked me in the eyes. "But that's why I need your help. I need someone brave and strong-willed to keep my soul safe until I figure out a way to free it from its imprisonment."
"And then what'll happen?" I asked him.
He raised his arms and looked down at his pale hands. "Then I will be free of this accursed life. I can't fina
lly, truly rest." He curled his hands into fists and shook his head. "But not yet. I've got to find that key, and while I do that I need my soul protected." He looked to me and smiled. "This must all sound insane to you."
"We passed insane when your soul turned my rug into melted cheese," I quipped.
"I will pay for the repairs, and for anything else you might desire while you protect my soul," he assured me.
I held up my hand. "Wait a sec. I haven't agreed to do anything."
He smiled. "Bu you won't refuse me. I've lived a long time and have studied human behavior thoroughly. You'll protect my box."
I snorted. "Your studies must be rusty when you picked Charlie to protect your box. He's as meek as a kitten."
"But he has a big heart," the vampire pointed out. He ran his hand over the box and sighed. "I thought perhaps he would rise to the challenge, but I was wrong."
It was like looking at a whimpering puppy. There he was stroking his box with that sad look in his eyes and that sad story. I'd done a lot of human study in my time at the diner, and it was telling me the guy was telling me the truth. Damn it.
I sighed and held out my arms. "Give me the box."
His face brightened. "You're sure?" he asked me.
"No, but give it to me anyway."
He picked up the box and walked over to me. "You do realize this will mean putting yourself in mortal danger."
I dropped my arms and scowled at him. "I do now. How 'mortal danger' are we talking about? More of those creepy girls in dresses?"
The vampire stopped in front of me and frowned. "There is only one of those."
"Good. Two of them and Stephen King would have to sue them for copyright infringement," I commented.
"But there are others who will seek out my soul," he warned me.
"Why? What's so special about your soul?" I asked him.
"A loose soul without even a spiritual body is a rare thing," he explained. "Many would try to harness its power for their own uses."
