Thad stepped closer to Shufah before realizing this put him within her arm’s reach. Though he looked uncomfortable this near to her, he did not retreat. “I know all of that, but I can’t just stay behind. What if something happens to you?” His eyes flickered in Jerusa’s direction. “Am I just supposed to sit around waiting for these Hunters to show up and kill me? I can’t do that.”
“I doubt very much that the Hunters would kill you,” Shufah said with a smile. She was obviously just as taken with Thad as any mortal woman. Foster seemed to notice this too, for he moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. Shufah leaned in and kissed Foster on the cheek.
Thad squinted his eyes in suspicion. “Why wouldn’t they kill me?”
“Because,” Foster spoke up, “there are two things the Stewards love: beauty and power. And you’re just their type.”
Jerusa laughed. “That’s why you’ve been going through your ‘journey to perfection’? You’ve been altering yourself to meet the Stewards’ standards?”
“In their opinion, age had taken away too much of my beauty. They refused to allow me to be changed. My only option was to live out my days in one of the quarantine communities for the infected.”
“What changed their mind?” Thad asked.
“Shufah did.” He smiled at Shufah, staring longingly into her eyes for a moment. “She convinced the Stewards that I could achieve their standards before being turned. I’m the first to try.” He looked again to Thad. “But you have youth and beauty on your side. You will have more options than I had.”
“What a wonderful story of love and triumph,” Taos said, tenting his fingers above his brow. “Are we finished? If not, I may tear out my own heart and give you all another savage to contend with.”
Shufah waved him away. “Go, but not far. I will call you when we have finished.”
“Here, take my car.” Foster tossed a set of keys and Suhail caught them as he was turning for the door. “It’s parked in the garage.”
Taos followed Suhail out the door. Inside, the four remaining stood silent, listening as the car rolled down the driveway and out into the street. When all that remained was the sound of the night, Shufah turned to Thad.
“This is more dangerous than you know.”
“I understand that,” Thad said.
“You are infected,” she said, somehow making it sound like a prestigious honor. “Though it has only been one day, the vampire spirit is already branching out, nesting within your cells. If you should be wounded and die, you will reanimate and arise a vampire.”
Thad stood up straight and nodded, though this thought clearly disturbed him.
“Know this,” Shufah said, lowering her voice in warning. “There is a great difference in being born of bite and being born of blood. Those born of blood arise imbued with the power of their maker’s blood. They arise instantly and the blood-thirst is staved off for a day, maybe two. But those born of the bite arise with a great ravening thirst. Driven mad with bloodlust, they will feed upon whoever chances across their path.”
The blood drained from Thad’s face.
“Also, one born of the bite does not rise right away. It depends on how long the vampire spirit has had to take hold. For you, Thad, if you were to die right now, you might not reanimate for three or four days. In times past, when superstition ruled and science was thought to be witchcraft, this was not such a problem. But today, with autopsies and blood tests … let’s just say the Stewards would just as soon those things not happen.”
Thad’s eyes were wide and distant. He unconsciously wiped his hands on his jeans. He blinked away his daydream and looked at Shufah.
“Could you change me?” He seemed suddenly embarrassed by this, as though he had asked her something intimate. Perhaps he had. It had felt pretty intimate to Jerusa when Silvanus had changed her.
Shufah regarded him with one raised eyebrow. “You wish to be changed?”
Thad shifted nervously under her gaze. “Yes … well, no. I’m not sure. It’s kind of inevitable, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. You can live out your life in relative normalcy, if you wish.”
“In the quarantine community?”
“That’s right. It is not so bad. There is safety there. Comfort being with those like yourself. Or, if you choose, you may ask the Stewards permission to be changed. I doubt they would deny you, as long as you ask before your youth fades.”
“But you won’t change me?”
Shufah looked at him with sympathy. “I cannot. Not now, at least. I turned Foster just last night. I need time to regain my strength.”
“What about Foster or Jerusa?”
Shufah shook her head. “It is not wise for a fledgling to attempt this. They lack the control and they have not come to their blood-strength. And please, don’t think of asking Suhail or Taos. My brother swore long ago never to make another. And Taos is more likely to twist off your head than give you his own blood.”
Thad nodded, but his disappointment was clear.
Shufah touched his shoulder. “You are brave and handsome. If we survive this ordeal and you still wish to be turned, I will take you before the Stewards and plead your case to them myself.”
This brightened Thad’s spirits and he managed a genuine smile.
“Let’s go,” Shufah said, starting for the door. “Come, Thad. You can be our chauffeur tonight.”
Jerusa was about to object, to say that she thought it best if Thad went home or maybe stayed here, but he was so elated to be included that he was out the front door before she had a chance to speak.
Jerusa looked over at Alicia, who stood with a somber look on her face. Jerusa hated to see her like this. She missed the playful and mischievous Alicia, the one who liked to startle her and make rude gestures at Jerusa’s mother. This Alicia seemed cold and distant, her youthful beauty somehow offset by the haunted look nestled in her eyes, a look suggesting that she knew some terrible secret, one she was forbidden to share.
Alicia, once again, wagged her finger while shaking her head. Do not feed, she was saying. Do not drink blood.
Alicia dematerialized and Jerusa followed the others out to Thad’s Jeep. Thad sat in the driver seat, Shufah next to him. Jerusa climbed into the back with Foster. Thad started up the Jeep, did a three-point turn, then drove to the end of the driveway.
“Where should we go?” Foster asked Shufah.
“Does this town have a dangerous side?” she asked. “A place where criminals congregate?”
“Yes. Doesn’t every town?”
“Then take us there.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It turned out the car that that waste-of-blood, Foster Reynolds, was hiding in his garage was a ‘67 Aston Martin. Who knew such a loser would have such a sweet car?
Taos pressed the accelerator down and the engine roared like a caged dragon. He took the curves without taking his foot off of the gas, relishing in the way the car’s tires seemed to be held to the asphalt by something more powerful than gravity. The night air was cool, but the road still held the heat of the day and a fine gossamer mist hovered a foot from the ground. Taos leaned his head out of the window, allowing the brisk wind to grab at his hair, sting his eyes. He laughed and howled at the crescent moon just clearing the treetops. He loved to drive. The automobile was by far his favorite technological advancement of this age.
“Slow down,” Suhail said. “This thing is essentially a bomb on wheels. In case you forgot, fire is not our friend.”
Taos sighed and lifted his foot from the accelerator, allowing the car to coast to a slower speed. Suhail was a sour companion and more of a killjoy than Kole had been.
“What are you pouting about?” Taos asked.
Suhail stared out the window, his chin resting on his fist like some whiny mortal child. “I can’t believe this has happened. This is not how it was supposed to be.”
“It’s been a strange one,” Taos said with a grin. “I never
would have guessed we’d be hunting Kole.”
Suhail glanced at Taos, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. “I wish I knew where this Silvanus disappeared to. I would love to burn him slowly from the toes up.”
Taos laughed. “Something tells me he wouldn’t let you do that.” Suhail’s face hardened. Taos forced the smile from his face. He didn’t like Suhail or his sullen, morose attitude, but though he looked like a teenager, Suhail — like his insufferable sister — was much older and far too strong to risk incurring his wrath. If Kole had taught him anything, it was to respect his elders.
Taos tried to hold his tongue, but his curiosity was getting the best of him. “Do you think she was telling the truth? Do you think Jerusa really met Silvanus in the sunlight?”
Suhail pondered the question for a moment. “No. I think she’s lying.”
“But how could he draw the savage venom out of her? How did he not become savage himself? How was he able to vanish like he did?”
“How should I know?” Suhail snapped back. “When we find him, you may ask him.”
Taos was silent for a moment, but he didn’t like the quiet. “I don’t think he is a vampire. He didn’t have any fangs.”
Suhail sighed. “Don’t be an idiot. Of course he is a vampire. How else could his blood have turned Jerusa? He just has a special gift. One we haven’t seen before. That’s why we must find him. Bring him before the Stewards. Damn Kole,” he said with a sudden spark of rage. “He deserves to be savage. He should have kept his end of the bargain.”
Taos wasn’t sure what bargain Kole had struck up, or with whom. All he had told Taos was that after they had judged Foster that Kole would be rewarded with a position as a Steward and that Taos would become a Hunter.
Up ahead, a pair of young women were powerwalking on the side of the road. Suhail glanced at them nonchalantly.
“They’ll do,” he said. “Drive on ahead and pull off the road.”
Taos did as he was told, driving the car up and around the next bend. He pulled over on the shoulder and turned off the engine. He started to exit the car, but Suhail caught him by the arm.
“We are not here to play. Do not toy with them. We have business to attend to.”
It was a struggle for Taos not to roll his eyes, but he managed to keep his face still. “I understand.”
They exited the car and walked down the shoulder of the road toward the women. There weren’t any streetlamps on this stretch of road and the trees shielded them from the moonlight. The women had their heads bent toward each other, deep in conversation, and didn’t notice the two men sliding silently from shadow to shadow. The vampires were within ten yards of their prey before the women realized they were not alone.
The women stopped in mid-step. Their fear ripened the air. They stood paused for a moment, rationalizing the situation in their minds. Humans never want to believe they are in danger until it wraps around them like spider silk.
By the time the women trusted their instincts and realized their peril, it was too late.
Suhail exploded forward fast enough that he appeared to vanish for a moment. He caught the woman before him — a thirty-something blonde whose blotchy skin was a testament to her worship of the sun — and carried her fifty yards off the road and into the woods before she could utter even a startled squeak.
The remaining woman, tall, athletic, with a body more like that of a young boy, stood petrified, her mouth open and slack. This was the ideal moment to strike, when the signals from the human brain flow with such reckless abandonment that they lose track of where they were going and what their purpose was. Taos didn’t have the age or speed of Suhail, but he could have easily caught her before she had a chance to turn.
Taos smiled at the woman, making sure his fangs were visible, and even added a little wink for flavor. He couldn’t help himself. What was the fun in killing with speed and mercy? Fear is the seasoning that makes life, especially a perpetual one, worth living. Suhail would be angry with him for ignoring his order, but again, Taos couldn’t help himself.
In movies, when humans are faced with some terrifying danger, they scream. Scream like a banshee in heat, waving their arms, fainting, and all other ignoble methods of displaying fear. But the truth is, when faced with mortal danger, their brains shut off all unnecessary functions. When a human drowns, they don’t flail about, splashing and gurgling. No, they go rigid and sink into the depths, usually without so much as a peep.
Taos relished that moment. He loved to read the eyes of his victims and watch as the brain made its decision. Most chose to flee, but occasionally, one would set their feet in preparation for the fight.
This young woman, with long awkward limbs and ropy muscles, narrowed her eyes gathering all the light she could. She reached into her pocket with her right hand and brought out a tiny canister of pepper spray.
A broad grin spread across Taos’s face. He did so love the fighters.
He stood before the woman before she had a chance to press her finger to the pepper spray’s release button. He caught her by the wrist with one hand, her throat with the other. He gave a slight twist, snapping the bones in her forearm like a green twig. The pepper spray dropped from her hand and tumbled into the tall grass beside the road. She tried to utter a cry of pain, but Taos tightened his grip on her throat, crushing her trachea.
He hadn’t meant to crush her throat. Sometimes the moment just overtook him. She was suffocating, twitching and rolling her eyes like a wild horse. There wasn’t much time. Taos laid her on her back in the side ditch and lay on top of her. She slapped weakly at his face with her good hand.
“Calm down,” Taos whispered in her ear. “If you do not calm down, you will forget to relish your death.”
He nuzzled her neck, locating her carotid artery with his tongue. He pressed his fangs through her skin, sealed his mouth tight, and allowed the blood to flow into his mouth.
A deep shudder filled Taos and the entire world fled away. Only in the blood was there peace. The woman uttered a groan deep in her chest, as much from pleasure as it was from pain. Taos squeezed her body in an undulating rhythm, willing her heart to hold on, to keep pumping as long as it could.
Her heart pumped longer than most. That was what he loved about the fighters. They never gave up easily. But all too soon, her heart fluttered to a stop. Taos wanted to continue to drink. There was so much blood left within her, but once the heart stops, it goes bad very quickly.
Reluctantly, he unsealed his mouth and pulled his fangs out, but not before raking them across the puncture wounds, turning the two holes into one long gash. The media loved to sensationalize corpses found with puncture wounds on the neck, but some girl in a ditch with her throat slashed would barely make a blip on the radar.
A powerful hand snatched Taos by the throat and hoisted him off of the dead woman. He pulled at the iron fingers to no avail. He couldn’t breathe, and though he was in no danger of dying from asphyxiation, a spasm of pain rushed through him nevertheless.
“I told you to kill her quickly,” Suhail said through clenched teeth. “I am growing wearing of being disregarded. It’s bad enough that I must endure the stings of my sister’s insubordinations. My time in the shadows is just about complete. I will be respected. Shall I make you my first example?”
Taos tried to shake his head no, but hanging by your neck doesn’t make that an easy task. “I’m sorry,” he said, just barely managing to choke the words out.
Suhail stood quite a bit shorter than Taos, so when he released his grip Taos only fell about two inches. He stumbled, coughing as his body healed his slightly crushed throat.
Suhail looked down at the dead girl. “Take her to the woods and stuff her somewhere they won’t find her for a while.” Taos picked the girl up and started for the trees. Suhail stopped him. “Don’t forget to remove her head. You’re sloppy, Taos. It’s a miracle the Stewards haven’t sent the Hunters out for you.”
Taos swallowed his r
esponse, but couldn’t withhold his smug smile and derisive bow. He continued into the woods where he buried the girl — headless, of course — a couple hundred yards in under a cairn of heavy stones.
Taos exited the woods and found Suhail texting on his cell phone. Though his fingers were nimble and accurate, the device still seemed strange in his ancient hands. He held it with distain as though it were a filthy creature forced upon him as a punishment.
“Shufah and her fledglings are still hunting,” he said without looking up at Taos. “She says they will meet us at the site of Kole’s first victim.” His lip curled when he spoke of his sister and Taos was amazed at how well he hid that face in her presence.
They walked in silence. At the car, Suhail once again took the passenger seat. Taos wasn’t sure if this was due to his dislike of modern technology or that he liked being chauffeured around.
“So if Jerusa is lying about her sunlight savior, do you think she’s lying about seeing spirits?”
Suhail looked out his window for a long moment, lost in his own thoughts. Just when Taos thought an answer wasn’t coming, Suhail said, “She’s lying. About everything. The vampire spirit has always washed that gift away. Why would it make an exception for common trash such as her?” A mix of sadness and anger flashed in his eyes. “Believe me. I know.”
“But why would she lie?” It was a dangerous question to ask, and Taos regretted it right away.
“She knows the Stewards will never accept her with that hideous scar dividing her breasts.” Suhail’s voice seemed almost cheerful at this thought. “Her only hope of survival is to manifest some ‘gift’ that will impress the Stewards enough that they might grant her mercy. Shufah knows this as much as I do. And the Stewards will not be fooled.”
“Then why is Shufah going along with this? I mean, if we have no hope of finding Kole, wouldn’t we be better off going into hiding?”
“Hiding?” Suhail said, his face screwed up as if the word was bitter in his mouth. “Why should we hide? If not for Shufah’s constant slighting of the Stewards, we would be Stewards ourselves. But she mocks them, challenges them, disobeys them, and I am made to suffer for it. But no more, I tell you.”
Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series Page 14
