by Aya DeAniege
“Unless they were wearing braces, probably,” Balor said. “Or if it was their power, but it’d be an alteration of gravitational forces at that point, meaning they could fly and gently set themselves down unless they were using their body as a bomb.”
“I think she thought we were in the car.”
“If it is who we think it is, she had experience hunting vampires,” Helen said. “She also has the ability to spy on those who use her name too often or think about her too much. That could be how she found us.”
“I thought the Great Maker was taking care of the stray problems,” Balor said.
“She is,” I said. “So we need to not think like vampires going into hiding. How do we do that?”
“Speed,” Helen said. “She’d know where we’re headed and the distance, etc. You’d probably go slow so you don’t get pulled over by the police. A regular human would be speeding to get home at this time of night. Once her legs are healed, she’d probably judge the distance and hit the wrong part, buying us more time.”
I put pressure on the gas pedal and began to speed. Going the speed limit kept one under the radar, so to speak. Speeding risked a ticket, in which case I only had my old alias’s identification on me, and he was a wanted man.
“Let’s hope the police are only interested in one vehicle tonight,” I muttered.
The car did a little swerve like it hit a patch of ice or something of that sort. Frowning, I looked in the rear view mirror.
There was another car in the distance, but it had pulled to a sudden stop. I saw a shadow move across its headlights and focused pointedly on the road.
Think faster.
Glancing at Helen, I realized she hadn’t felt the movement. It had been entirely in the steering wheel, which meant that she didn’t know what had just happened. Just as a driver who had hit a patch of ice and had regained control, I was the only one aware of what had happened behind us.
“How long has it been since the park?” I asked.
She checked her phone. “About twenty minutes. Why?”
“That’s our grace period,” I said.
“That’s fast,” Balor said.
“Did neither of you…?” Helen asked, then she sighed loudly. “Witch blood plus old as could be and probably fed off the Great Maker for centuries before they separated. I’d say that’s a pretty good grace period for someone of that background.”
“True,” I muttered.
“How are you going to explain that mess?” she asked.
“Meteors,” Balor said.
“Falling space debris,” I said with a shrug.
“Swamp gas reflecting the light of Jupiter, got it,” Helen said. “Ah, the picture finally freaking loaded. Yeah, that looks like her.”
I dared take my eyes off the road to glimpse the image sent to the Council.
Yes, that was the woman who had landed on my car, and then on the highway. She had a round face that was younger in looks, not a mark on her, but there was a boiling fury under it all. Her hair had been pulled back, but she did look like the images I had inherited from Lu.
Which meant that his Maker was hunting us down because he had been killed. She probably thought we had killed him, which would really explain the attempted murder via freefall.
Do we admit to knowing who it is?
“If Sasha had a resting murder face, this one has a resting genocide face,” Helen said. “It’s no wonder they picked her out of a crowd. Brown eyes, brown hair, she’s five-foot-six about a hundred and fifty pounds, this says.”
“All muscle, boobs, and butt,” I said.
“A hundred and fifty pounds in a high-velocity fall, you’re lucky she didn’t land on you,” Balor said. “I need to confer with our scientists. I don’t think we can use a meteor to explain that kind of crater.”
The call dropped, and I sighed loudly as Helen watched me.
“Is now a good time to point out that the table you knocked on wasn’t real wood?” she asked.
I smiled despite myself. “Might have pointed that out earlier. I could have knocked on my head and saved us from this whole mess.”
She made a sound and turned back to her phone. “Bau flew in from China, though her ticket took her to a couple of different places where she had layovers. The layovers were a couple of hours to half a day almost. Picking stuff up, maybe?”
“Did she come with bags?” I asked.
Helen was quiet a moment, then shook her head. “No bag, another giant red flag. I’m surprised they let her on the plane in China.”
“Maybe they have different rules in China,” I said.
“Maybe,” she muttered. “Why China, though?”
“It’s a beautiful country that the Council doesn’t exactly control. If you want to hide, that’s where you go. Pretty good chance you can pull it off too. Lots of food all over.”
“Oh, okay,” she said. “She had a Canadian passport though. Issued three years ago under Bea Smith.”
“Which means she has stock living in Canada. They request real passports for us, instead of making them. It’s been getting more difficult, but we can still do it.”
“Which means an alias in Canada maintained under that name, right?” Helen asked. “We could look the alias up, but she probably has IT guys just like everyone else. They’d be looking for people looking for her, especially right now.”
“Exactly the problem,” I said.
“Can’t Balor report her?” she asked. “Just call up the police and let them know that this was sent to him and this woman has a legitimate passport but as far as he knows was never in Canada so this other thing is happening?”
“Next time we talk to him or see him, I’ll get him to do that,” I said. “Maybe that will give us some clue as to what’s going on.”
“What’s going on is you killed daddy, and now grandmother is coming to spank your butt.”
“Sasha killed daddy, not me.”
“And I killed Death, maybe she’s coming for me instead,” she said
“That is a possibility,” I said. “But that doesn’t explain falling from the sky. If she can kill, which we’re pretty certain she can, then she just has to kill you and flee. That’s more sneaking than exploding.”
“You can kill vampires with your mind!”
“She doesn’t know that,” I protested. “She only knows about my telekinesis. Unless she thinks I’m carrying the tool around with me, but then she’d not be looking for you because I would have inherited Death.”
“This woman’s motives are insane.”
“It would appear so. Let’s just assume that she thinks I killed Lu, and we’ll go with that.”
“Sure,” she muttered. “Why isn’t Anna calling back?”
“No idea,” I said, going just a little faster. “But we should be back in the city after an indeterminate amount of time.”
“Har har,” she said sarcastically.
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” I said.
A police vehicle passed us, going faster than we were. I frowned as it passed, then glanced at Helen. She was staring out the window.
“Helicopter is headed that way. Cop car could be fleeing, maybe shutting down the next exit to keep people off the highway?” she asked, glancing at me.
“What would a mortal do in this situation?” I asked.
She reached out and played with the radio.
“Police are asking that all drivers avoid the four-oh-one as there has been an accident. Early reports indicate that falling space debris have caused a major accident when a car stopped to avoid the crater and caused a collision with a pickup truck. The debris is said to be coming down along the path of the highway, and while experts believe the rest will burn up before impact, precautions are being taken for public safety.”
“They’re closing the highway,” she said. “Get off at the next exit, or they’ll look at your face and might recognize us.”
I pulled over to the far lane as I saw t
he police car turn his lights on. He was sideways up the road and past the exit. Giving drivers plenty of space to get out.
Off the highway, I glanced at Helen, who was on her phone.
“What did I say about that phone?” I asked.
A voice chimed out, telling me to turn in five hundred yards. Helen looked at me pointedly. I stared back at her, not understanding for a long moment before I turned my attention back to the road. Best not to drive into a ditch because I wanted an answer.
“It’s directions to the hotel in the mall,” she said. “I can’t believe they closed the highway, what if the restaurant is closed before we get there?”
“Helen, while I appreciate you being overly cautious, if someone hacks that phone it’ll just die rather than record anything for them.”
“You’re certain?” she asked.
“They’re new, but not out of the box new.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said as I turned where the voice told me to turn. “I told it to avoid highways.”
“They can do that now?” I asked.
“They also have bus schedules loaded in and walk times,” she said. “Navigation applications have come a long way, even in the last three years.”
“Damn, this technology is moving too fast for me.”
“And this hour in the news: the city was rocked with its first vampire based scandal this morning when warrants were issued for one Quintillus Lu DiLucrecia and Councilman Balor implicating them in the deaths of two mortals who were killed by their Progeny.
“Troy and Helen were working with the vampires when the new Progeny of Quin and Balor turned on them. Per Council law, the Progeny cannot be held accountable for the murders, but the Makers should have controlled the predatory natures of the vampires.
“The Council had said that the turning were one-time exceptions based on circumstances which they are not willing to share. They warned that any other vampire turning a mortal would result in the same punishment as before, which brought up the question of just how the Council intends to keep their people in line when Council members are turning humans despite a four-hundred-year ban.
“The mayor of our city had this to say.”
“Four-hundred-year ban?” I asked the radio in the lull of conversation. “It’s a thousand years, you idiots!”
“Uh, do I believe it’s murder? The answer to that question is inconsequential. What I believe in this matter is not what matters. Whether it is murder or not is up to the courts to decide.
“I am asking our citizens to please remain calm and remember that vampires want as little to do with you as you want to do with them, thank you.”
I glanced at Helen, who was looked at the radio as if it had just grown a second head.
“Mortals,” I muttered.
“Could that have been more vague?” she asked.
“When reached for comment, Lucrecia, the vampire ambassador had this to say.”
“Do I believe it’s murder? Of course not. Quintillus was a part of my family. He would never murder an innocent woman, let alone allow his child to do so. That would be like saying turning a mortal is murder. We’re vampires, we’ve been very open about what we need to survive, and I’m certain that once the idea settles in the minds of politicians, they will realize that it is not only not murder, but that the Council will not be swayed by these charges and the harassment that is now being directed at them.
“I would like to remind all humans, not only those of this city but of the entire world, that we have existed for as long as mortals have. We have not had a new vampire amongst us in nearly a thousand years. This is not just an adjustment for you all, but for us as well. Please respect the privacy of the new Makers and give the Progeny a wide berth. Thank you.”
“The chief of police is asking anyone with any information on the whereabouts of Quintillus or Balor to please come forward. Do not attempt to apprehend or stall the vampires, as they are dangerous.
“Right after these messages: cheese. Is it killing you?”
Helen reached out and jabbed the radio, which sent it searching through the channels for a new station. When it finally settled on one country music began playing as she glared out the window.
“I can’t die,” she said.
“No, but it will hurt. It’ll hurt like you’re dying because the damage could very well be a mortal blow for a human.”
“And even though they saw Troy, they’re still trying to charge Balor.”
“Seem to be what is going on,” I muttered, reaching out to switch the station to something that was a little more upbeat.
She turned back to me and glared.
“They will prosecute all vampires.”
“They would have to find us first,” I said. “The law requires we declare as we cross borders, but there are plenty of ways to get across without that. There’s no way to prove we aren’t mortal besides cutting us, and then all we need to do is bleed ourselves out before we board.”
“And only the Council and Lucrecia are even really public. Those who had been interviewed were kept a secret from everyone else.”
“Yes, my concern is getting my stock set up, but we have plans for this.”
“Lucrecia didn’t sound the way she did last night.”
“Uh,” I struggled to figure out what Helen meant. “Lucrecia always sounds like that on broadcasts.”
“Really?” she asked. “I’ve never heard one before. I just avoided the whole vampire thing. People were getting so obsessed with it, thinking if they devoted themselves to you, you’d turn them.”
“To us,” I corrected gently. “And mortals have always been like that. Why do you think so many of us had set up as gods in the past? It was a very easy thing to do.”
“And like all things, this will pass?”
“Absolutely. You’re looking at it with the eyes of a mortal. This isn’t a mountain that you need to climb. At this point, and please don’t be mad at me for saying it, but I need you to sit there and look pretty. Stop worrying about what’s going on outside.
“We listen to it, yes, because we need to educate ourselves on what is happening. But we don’t worry because fear will change how we think, and it’s unnecessary. This will pass.”
“And if it doesn’t?” she asked quietly.
“We see if we can put Lu back together,” I said.
She didn’t think that was funny in the least. I smiled just slightly, then shrugged.
“If it came down to it, that is basically what we’d do. This wouldn’t be the first civilization that we ended. It wouldn’t be the first time that we changed the tide of the world because someone was doing something stupid.”
“Things make a bigger boom than they used to,” she said.
“And yet they’re all connected with the switch of a button. Or the releasing of the sex tapes recorded by a senator because he loves a certain game and leaves it running on his phone as he buys underage prostitutes.”
“I never even thought of that,” Helen said, finally smiling but only a little bit. “Troy told me about your apps and games.”
“You’d think more vampires would have invested in them,” I muttered. “Oh well, knowledge is power. How much longer is this route? You need food soon.”
“Another thirty minutes or so,” she grumbled.
“See, if we hadn’t changed things, I could tell you about the time I was caught by some Inquisitors and was tortured.”
“I’d rather not talk about being tortured right now.”
“Or the time I started an orgy.”
“At a convent,” she sighed out.
“Have I told you that one?”
“Someone must have mentioned it,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m just not in a story mood right now.”
Because she was worrying. The longer I was around her, the more I saw Helen shut down when she was worried or frustrated. She’d just hit a wall and then not do anything until she had some kind of contr
ol back. I planned to break her of that habit, shutting down was not a good thing when one was in a difficult spot, but then wasn’t the time to bring it up.
Then was the time to find a way to give her back control so that she didn’t feel like everything was tumbling down around her.
“I tried,” I said with a shrug.
“I know, but this is a lot for me right now. With them and her and now this. It’s just too much.”
“Have you ever been to the equator?” I asked.
“Tropics for a baby vampire?”
“Not about the sun. About the sand and the beach, the water and the sky. You look up, and it’s just an entirely different set of stars, and it’s like… wow. We should go.”
“Tonight?” she asked.
“Tomorrow night, after the televised interview where we defend our honour and say we’re good, law-abiding men. Then never show up for the court date.”
“Because you find that funny.”
“Because it is funny. But tomorrow night. You and me on a private jet to someplace tropical, how about that?”
“Sounds like heaven,” she said.
“Good, it’s a date.”
The Council Chambers were stripped bare. All that remained was the murder room, where I found Troy sitting on the autopsy table, swaying as music played on the speakers. It was real music this time, not muzak, and was quiet, yet it seemed to get louder as I approached him.
He smiled at me, his brown eyes warming as he reached for his phone.
“What’s this?” I asked.
He held up a finger, motioning towards his ear. “Balor used a shotgun on my head.”
“Why?” I asked, looking over the murder room.
There was no smell of disinfectant, but the wall and floor were wet as if they had been hosed down. During the week previous both Troy and I had become intimately familiar with the murder room. Our Makers were introducing us to a variety of pain, and that often caused a mess.
Mind you, Balor was much more destructive in his methods. He had started with cutting off a hand, which Quin had me watch. The visceral reaction to watching something like that had been both fascination and disgust.
“He’s worried the police will shoot us,” Troy said. “It did something. Like, can you hear that?”
