Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series

by Gabriel Beyers

  Jerusa went into her room with her mother. Thad lingered in the doorway to his own room, watching her. She thought of inviting him in‌—‌she didn’t want to be alone if her mother…‌ died. But she knew Shufah wouldn’t allow her and Thad too close to each other, so she slid the heavy oak door closed with her foot.

  She placed her mother on the bed and covered her with a heavy down-comforter. She explored the room, but there wasn’t much to look at, other than an array of clothes in the closet and some dusty books on a shelf. Her room was equipped with a full bathroom, however, so Jerusa decided on a shower.

  She ran the water as hot as it would go and slid beneath the steaming spray with a sigh. It seemed centuries since she had been warm. She had discovered since becoming a vampire that dirt and grime didn’t adhere to her skin. She didn’t sweat, didn’t have body odor and didn’t have to use the restroom‌—‌all perks of being undead. Though the water was enough to make her clean, she used the shampoo and soap anyway, relishing the soft clean scent they produced.

  She would have stayed in the shower until the hot water expired, except that her keen ears caught the sound of her door opening. There was a thud on the floor, a soft whimper and the door shut again.

  Jerusa, fearing her mother had awakened and fled the room in confused panic, quickly rinsed off and wrapped herself in a terrycloth robe she found hanging on the door. She ran out of the bathroom, looked toward the bed, but her mother still lay beneath the covers.

  Tiny puddles formed around Jerusa’s feet, dripping from her wet hair, as she pondered the noises. She started to turn toward the door, thinking that Thad or Taos had entered, found her showering, then turned and straightway left, but the soft rustle of someone shuffling across the floor stopped her mid-step.

  Jerusa’s senses heightened and she became aware of a foreign scent, of human sweat, almost hidden by her mother’s own odor. She could hear ragged breathing mixed with tiny, exerted grunts.

  Jerusa moved to the center of the room where she found a man near the foot of the bed. His hands and feet bound with zip ties, a ball-gag pressed in his mouth, like an apple in the mouth of a suckling pig.

  His heart raged at the sight of her and the sound of his rushing blood lit like a flame in her chest. Alicia appeared next to the man, her pale face drawn tight with dismay. A fury filled Jerusa, a blind instinct, demanding action without thought. She rushed toward the man. Alicia rushed towards her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Jerusa collided with Alicia and it was as two comets striking in the cold dead of space. Her bones felt like molten lead and for a moment‌—‌before she blacked out‌—‌she wondered if she was on fire.

  Her legs folded beneath her and she hit the ground next the man, who let out a muffled screech of horror. Galaxies of stars were born in her sight, only to swell and shrink in supernova. Alicia’s hand gouged into Jerusa’s chest, into her scar and it would’ve been no less painful had she been branded by a hot iron. Convulsions overtook her body, smashing her violently against the floor.

  Then came darkness. Not a blessed, pain-free, restful darkness, but a bottomless pit where she fell, rolling over and over, spinning at terrific speed with no hope of escape.

  A pitiful, pleading groan cut through the darkness. Her heart raced, because she thought the noise had come from Alicia. It was impossible, though. The dead have no voice. Then again, she had never been touched by Alicia until six months ago. Nothing was certain anymore. The spinning blackness faded and Jerusa found herself upon the floor, her back set in a deep arch, her head tipped backward to its limit, and realized for the first time that the pleading groan had come from her own mouth.

  Her electrified muscles gave way, dropping her to the floor with one last crash. A soft, beautiful face, a mask of perfect youth, hovered over her. “Alicia,” Jerusa said in a croaking voice. But there was something wrong with the face before her.

  A hand touched her on the shoulder and Jerusa’s head lulled to the side. Alicia lay beside her, her round face twisted with spent anguish, her eyes heavy, as if ghosts could grow weary. Soft fingers, not belonging to Alicia, caressed Jerusa’s cheek. The owner of the fingers gasped suddenly, as if startled and pulled her hand away. Jerusa’s hand shot forth like a striking viper and caught the girl by the wrist. The girl gave a short, muffled cry, but didn’t attempt to free her hand.

  Jerusa turned her head toward the girl, though it seemed to take a great deal of energy to get the message from her brain to the muscles in her neck. Celeste stared down, not at Jerusa but at Alicia. Foster appeared in the room and Celeste gaped in awe.

  “Have you seen enough?” Jerusa asked. Her voice came out like gravel spilling down a mountainside. Her throat felt full of hot ash and had black smoke erupted from between her lips, she wouldn’t have thought it strange. “If you were sent to spy out my secrets, you’ve just discovered a doozy.”

  Celeste gingerly slipped her wrist from Jerusa’s grasp and seemed even more astonished, if that were possible, when Alicia and Foster vanished from her sight. “I didn’t come to spy on you,” she said, returning her wide, wondering eyes to Jerusa. “I came to warn you.”

  Jerusa sat up and Celeste scurried away like an abused beast. “Warn me about what?”

  “Shufah should have behaved with more discretion.” She glanced around the room as if her comment might offend and re-conjure the spirits she had just witnessed. “Ming demanded silence on the issue of the umbilicus, but now she is explaining what happened to the High Council. Shufah shouldn’t have lied. The Council will know that your mother has been bitten.”

  “Not bitten by a vampire,” Shufah said from the doorway. Celeste turned on her heels and stepped away. “That was the question they were asking. Had she been bitten by a vampire? Is she infected? So, you see, I didn’t lie.”

  “Nevertheless,” Celeste said. “When Ming finishes her account of what happened, they will come for Jerusa’s mother.”

  Jerusa climbed to her feet, but a wave of dizziness overtook her and she stumbled into the wall. Celeste rushed forward to help, but stopped short of touching her. “You aren’t well. You should feed.” She indicated the bound man still squirming on the floor.

  “I can’t,” Jerusa said.

  “You must. The Stewards will see it as a great insult if you refuse the blood they’ve offered.”

  “You don’t understand,” Shufah said. “She cannot feed, nor has she since the day she was born of the blood.”

  “That’s madness.” Celeste turned to Jerusa. “The Stewards will destroy you for such an act and even if they don’t you will bring the Stone Cloak down upon yourself. Why would you do such a thing?”

  Jerusa tried to answer, but found that she didn’t have the strength. A deep, lethargic weakness had fallen over her, like a blanket of lead threatening to draw her to the floor and smother her.

  “It’s outside her power,” Shufah said. “The spirit, Alicia‌—‌the one you saw when you touched Jerusa‌—‌will not allow Jerusa to drink blood. We don’t know why, but she is willing to enforce her decision through pain or even death, I suppose.”

  Celeste looked from Shufah to Jerusa, searching their eyes for the truth. Then she did something that took both of them by surprise.

  Celeste went to the man on the floor, scooped him up beneath the arms and without a word plunged her fangs into his neck. The man squealed like a rabbit in the clutches of an eagle. He had over a foot of height on Celeste and kept trying to stand up, but she kept him at her level. He hammered her with his bound hands, wriggled like a fish, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. His eyes fell to the side in a fixed, glassy stare, his hands drooped and his legs no longer fought to stand. Jerusa listened as his heart gave a few more raging beats of protest, then went silent.

  Celeste pulled away from his neck with a pleasure-filled gasp. Her pale skin held the warm ruddy glow of someone just in from the cold. Her eyes sparkled as she glanced about the room, almost
as if she found herself in some transformed location, a place of magic and whimsy. A faint pink tint coated her white teeth, drawing out the true deadly nature of her fangs. She turned away from Jerusa, as though embarrassed.

  Jerusa wasn’t sure what look Celeste read on her face, but twin armies of thirst and jealousy waged a bloody coupe within her. She wanted to strike Alicia, hammer her as the dying man had Celeste. Alicia could touch Jerusa. Perhaps she could touch her back. But the look on the ghost’s face withered her anger. She was suffering right along with Jerusa, but for what purpose, she couldn’t say.

  Celeste became suddenly startled by something unseen or unheard to the others in the room. She cast the dead man down at Jerusa’s feet just as the door to the room swung open.

  In marched Marjek accompanied by Ming and Ralgar. Lusty, childish grins spread across the faces of the Hunters, until they observed Celeste standing sheepishly near the bed.

  “Why are you here?” Ming asked.

  “I just came to see that our guests didn’t need anything.” It was a weak response from Celeste, not at all believable. Jerusa felt sorry for her.

  “We have human attendants for that,” Ralgar said, his face wrinkling with suspicion.

  “Enough,” Marjek said and the room fell quiet. He glanced down at the dead man. “I’m sorry to interrupt your feeding, young one.” Jerusa didn’t like the condescending tone that came along with being called young one. “Don’t worry,” he said, mistaking the look on her face, “he was a vile human, I can assure you. It’s hard for us to hunt here, so sparse is the population. We pay prisons well to deliver to us those that won’t be missed.”

  Marjek turned to Shufah. “You know why we’re here.”

  “Yes, but your trip is an unnecessary one. There is no danger here.”

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  Jerusa stepped over the dead man, placing herself between Debra and the Hunters. “She’s not infected. She’s not one of them.”

  Taos and Thad appeared in the doorway, but neither Marjek nor the Hunters paid them any mind.

  “Is it true one of the creatures transfused its blood into her?” Marjek asked Shufah.

  “Yes, but they were not vampires. They were‌—‌” She hesitated for a moment. “They were something else. Something the Light Bearers have created.”

  “The Light Bearers?” Marjek said in a near laugh. “That withering clan of librarians would perish if ever they came out from behind their books. They would never make an attack on us.”

  “Things have changed, it seems,” Shufah said. Her tone was soft, not near the acerbic assault she had poured on him earlier. Marjek stepped closer to her, delighted to see her so pleasant. “The librarians are no longer satisfied to just watch us.”

  Marjek’s countenance fell. “We shall have the Watchtower look into it. But for now, we must take the human.”

  “No,” Jerusa shouted. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

  Debra Phoenix shuffled beneath the blankets as if she were trying to wake from a nightmare.

  “I’m sorry, but we cannot have this breech in security.” Marjek’s tone was flat, uncaring, final.

  “And what do you mean to do with her?” Shufah asked.

  “We cannot risk her becoming one of those creatures. She must be destroyed.”

  The strength went out of Jerusa’s legs and she sat on the edge of the bed. Taos and Thad both rushed to her. Taos stood with his broad chest out, silently daring the men to take Debra without his permission. Thad placed his arm over Jerusa’s shoulder to comfort her. She appreciated his gesture, but the sound of the blood rushing beneath his flesh was near maddening.

  Shufah placed her hand on Marjek’s arm and he became almost giddy at her touch. “Do not be rash in your decisions,” she said. “We don’t yet know what the Light Bearers have conjured. Don’t destroy what may be our only key to defense. Take the human if you must, but lock her in the secure isolation ward. Let us watch and learn what we may from her.”

  A dreamy smile washed over Marjek’s face. Ming stared at him with muted revulsion.

  “Sir,” Ming said. “The umbilicus were highly resistant to fire. The human could be growing stronger as we speak. This may be our only chance.”

  “This is our most secure stronghold,” Marjek said, still looking fondly at Shufah. “Surely you are not frightened of one dying human.” Ming bristled at the insult, but said nothing. “Yours is not the only team of Hunters within these walls. We are quite safe, I assure you.” Ming backed away, as if Marjek might turn and strike her. “Take the human to the observation ward.”

  “I’ll do it,” Celeste said. She had been standing so still and quiet that Jerusa had forgotten she was there at all. “I’ll take her to the ward, if that is all right.” Marjek nodded his approval and Celeste scooped Debra out of the bed and darted out the door.

  Jerusa wondered if Celeste could feel the stabbing pains in her back from the angry glares Ming and Ralgar cast at her. She would have laughed, but a sudden and almost debilitating fear that she would never see her mother again swept over her. Still, all things considered, this was the best outcome she could hope for. Her mother was safe, for now and would be looked after. And of all the Hunters to carry her away, Jerusa was glad that it had been Celeste.

  “Can I visit her?” Jerusa asked Marjek.

  “In time, perhaps. But for now you should entrust her to our hands.”

  “It might be wise to have one of the augurs from the Watchtower keep their sight on her,” Shufah suggested.

  Marjek smiled, his fangs glimmering in the light. “Yes. You are right.” He turned to Ming and Ralgar. “Go at once and see that it is done.” The pair of Hunters bowed low, then hurried off to fulfill their task.

  Shufah’s eyes were soft, almost flirtatious. A tiny grin tickled her mouth. It was such a change of demeanor from the Shufah at the front door that Jerusa wondered if there might have been a triplet sibling to her and Suhail. Shufah glanced down at the dead man heaped up on the floor. “We thank you for your hospitality, Marjek.”

  A quick glance at Jerusa told her she needed to reply. “Um, yes. Thank you. It was very kind of you.” She tried not to look directly at the dead man. She had an overwhelming urge to ask what his name was and why he deserved to die.

  “You’re welcome.” Marjek’s smile broadened, causing his cheeks to dimple in a way visible even through his beard. He was attractive in a rugged, masculine way. Jerusa imagined that in his human life he would not have been found in a great house such at this, but surviving alone in the wilderness. “Make sure that you do not feed on any of the humans in residence. This house serves as a quarantine community for infected humans.” He glanced at Thad who became visibly agitated. “It is a high honor to serve out your days here.”

  “My coven understands the rules,” Shufah said.

  Marjek glanced down to the dead man. “I will have that removed at once. I wish that I could stay, but I must meet with the Council. We will call upon you soon, but until then, you are free to roam the house, except for the southernmost wing.”

  “We understand,” Shufah said.

  Marjek gave her one more appraising look, then left without another word.

  Shufah crossed the room and shut the door. Jerusa started to speak, but Shufah shushed her. “Do you hear anything, Taos?”

  Taos turned his head from side to side, his eyes closed. “I hear nothing.”

  “What are you listening for?” Thad asked.

  “Electronic devices,” Shufah said. She looked at Jerusa. “Can you hear anything? Listen for anything emitting an abnormal frequency.”

  Jerusa pushed her hearing past Thad’s heartbeat, past the wind ravaging the stone façade of the house, down to the bottommost limit, where all noise took on a warbling cry. “No. I can hear the buzz of the light bulbs, but that’s it.”

  “Do you agree?” Shufah asked Taos.

  “Yes. I don’t th
ink they are listening to us.”

  “Good,” Shufah said. “We have a few moments for discussion.”

  “Shufah,” Jerusa said, not sure she could get the words past the lump in her throat. “Thank you, for what you did for my mom. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

  “No,” Shufah agreed, “not easy at all. I want to roast my own flesh, just to purge it from his lingering touch. But it was necessary to distort his judgment or he would have executed poor Debra right before your eyes. Besides, Marjek’s lusty infatuations have given us a great deal of information.”

  “What kind of information?” Jerusa asked.

  “His comment about the community of infected shows that I was right about this house. This is the Ice Sanctuary, a last refuge of sorts for the Stewards. And if they have moved the Watchtower here as well, then something has them terribly frightened.”

  “What would they be frightened of?”

  “I don’t know.” Shufah pointed to the dead man. “Celeste seems quite eager to please our little coven, especially you, Jerusa.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means be wary of her. Often your most dangerous enemy will come to you with open hands and comforting words. You should distance yourself from her. She knows too much already.”

  “But if I get close to her, maybe she can help sway the Council to spare me.”

  “I don’t think so. She is just an augur and not even of the Watchtower. I may be able to persuade Marjek, but I’m not hopeful. He sets his distorted sense of righteousness even above his putrid affections for me. Go ahead and befriend Celeste. See just how eager she is to help us. But do not turn your back on her.”

  They halted their conversation as the soft tread of footsteps‌—‌human footsteps‌—‌approached their door. Shufah opened the door before the knock and neither man seemed all that surprised. The two men, both middle-aged but healthy looking, nodded to Shufah. “Sorry to disturb you,” one said. “We’ve been ordered to dispose of your feeding.”