When she was finished showering she searched the room and found a beautiful ball gown in the closet, entombed in a plastic bag. It was a sleek, azure dress that looked like a more expensive version of Alicia’s prom dress. Jerusa slipped into the dress—just to see how she would look. No piece of clothing had ever fit her better. It was as if the dress had been made just for her. The only thing she didn’t care for was the plunging neckline, which revealed the scar on her chest. But as she stood swaying from side to side, examining the dress from every angle, rubbing the raised line of flesh upon her chest, she decided that maybe this dress was just the thing to be condemned to die in. And so what if her scar was showing. Let it show.
Alicia appeared next to her. Jerusa reached out and took her hand. Foster and the rest of the lingering spirits appeared within the room. They looked upon her in awe, as though she was something resplendent and miraculous.
Jerusa had to admit, it felt nice to be looked upon that way. The only other person that had looked at her with such adoration had been Silvanus.
“I wish he was here,” she said to Alicia. “I wish he would appear right now and take me out of this place.”
Alicia looked at Foster. He questioned her with his eyes and she nodded. There was no other form of communication. Foster turned and walked away. Within two steps he had vanished from the room.
Foster had not just become invisible to her. He had actually left this time. Jerusa could feel the absence of his spirit. She turned to Alicia to ask where Foster had gone, but before she could speak, the door to her room opened and in walked Ming and Ralgar.
They stared at Jerusa for a moment—Ming with a look of hatred, Ralgar with a look of twisted desire—but whether it was the dress or the scar on her chest, Jerusa couldn’t say.
“It’s time,” Ming said. “Come with us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Silvanus passed down the crowded New York sidewalks with his hands down at his sides, outstretched just a bit so that he could brush his fingers against every human he passed. He walked against the current of people, ensuring that he could touch as many as possible. Though the crowd moved in a surly, disconnected flow they didn’t attempt to avoid his touch—in fact they seemed almost unaware that he was touching them at all.
With just the swipe of his fingers he pulled a tiny spark of life from each human, but more than that, he was able to pass something back. The life he took was so small that it would never affect any of them, yet when they moved on from his touch they walked away with a dreamlike contentment, as if all was right in their worlds.
Silvanus didn’t know if he could keep feeding like this indefinitely, but he decided to stop when the wake of happy wanders, drifting along behind him, began to draw attention. He turned down the next street.
It was a magnificent city. Beyond anything he could have ever imagined. He marveled at the humans’ gift for creation. The glass windows of the skyscrapers glittered in the afternoon light. Silvanus purposed in his heart that he would stand atop each one. The autumn air was comfortably cool with a fresh breeze to blow away the smell of the city. He didn’t know where he was. He could have pulled the information from countless minds, but to be honest, he liked searching the city first hand. It was a place always in motion, as if it were a giant creature itself. No wonder Laura hid here among the mortals.
Silvanus passed by a group of mingling teenagers loitering outside of a bodega. The conversations stopped as he passed. The young girls followed him with enraptured eyes. The guys (not happy about losing the attention of the girls) puffed up like a flock of angry peacocks. He thought it funny that the girls found him attractive—or that the guys were jealous—but he remembered that in their eyes he probably looked no older than seventeen.
How old am I really?
Did it matter? Time held no meaning for him.
A wave of excitement fell over him at the thought of living among the humans. Suddenly it all seemed so possible. He could get a job, buy a home, make friends, create a life. He wouldn’t be alone anymore. Sure he wasn’t really a part of the human race, would be an imposter, but they would never know, so what difference did it make.
Silvanus’s mind went to Jerusa. She would like a place like this. But she couldn’t see it the way he saw it, with the sunlight pulling out every vibrant color. She would be confined to the night. And even then, with the humans all around, she couldn’t be here. He had made her an outcast, a hunter, a nightmare of the human race. But maybe there was hope yet. According to the Furies and Laura, a vampire can become Divine. Too bad she had disappeared, yesterday, before explaining how to bring about such a change. It had something to do with the Stone Cloak, or whatever you wanted to call that horrible vampire disease, but Laura had been holding something back. He was sure of it.
The light dimmed all around him. Silvanus looked up and realized that during his deep thought of Jerusa he had turned down an alley where the tall buildings blocked out the sunlight. For a moment, he thought he had teleported without meaning to. It seemed a different city now. All was steeped in shadows. The air was stale and foul, choked with the noxious fumes of car exhaust and human waste. Windows didn’t glitter but were instead painted with graffiti or smudged over with filth.
A man approached him from the far end of the alley, which was strange because according to Silvanus’s powerful senses, there were no other living beings close by.
Silvanus stood still, watching the man approach him without a trace of fear in his eyes. He tried to touch the man’s mind and found he was not able. There was something strange about the man’s walk, as though he were walking on a thin cushion of air and the imperfections of the road didn’t unbalance him. He looked at Silvanus with a fierce determination. Nothing good ever came from such a look. There was something familiar about the man, but Silvanus couldn’t see him well. He looked to be shrouded in thick fog, but the air around him was clear. It wasn’t until the man came to a large trash bin and passed through the solid metal unhindered that Silvanus realized who the man was.
Silvanus ran to meet the man. “You are one of Jerusa’s spirits, aren’t you? Your name is Foster.”
The man nodded. Though he stood directly in front of Silvanus, he still was hard to see. Sometimes his form was opaque, others it was as gossamer as spider silk. Occasionally he would flicker out of sight, like a light bulb preparing to burn out.
“Why are you here?” Silvanus asked. “Is Jerusa here, too?”
Foster shook his head.
“Where is she? Is she all right?”
Again, Foster shook his head no.
“Tell me where she is at.”
Foster pointed to his mouth and shook his head. He couldn’t speak. Or at least Silvanus couldn’t hear what he had to say. Foster made a series of signs with his hands, trying his best to pantomime what he needed to say.
“I don’t understand what any of that means. Jerusa’s in trouble, am I right?”
The ghost nodded.
“Is she close by? Can you lead me to her?”
The ghost shook his head no. Foster looked at Silvanus with strained exasperation. It was clear the ghost thought Silvanus could just will himself to Jerusa’s side. “I can’t go to her if I don’t know where she is. I can only find my own kind that way.”
The look of fear on Foster’s face caused a stone of dread to fall into Silvanus’s stomach. When he gave her his blood he made her an outcast, not just from the human race but from the other blood drinkers.
“Do the Stewards have her?”
Foster nodded, excited that they were finally getting somewhere.
“Is she somewhere close?”
Foster shook his head.
“Is she still in America?”
Foster shook his head.
Silvanus sighed in frustration. This was taking too long. Foster’s spiritual body was beginning to fade and the aura surrounding him grew dimmer by the second. Whatever
gift Silvanus had gained from Jerusa’s blood, it was fast losing its potency. Even if Foster didn’t vanish into thin air, by the time Silvanus finished playing the guessing-game with the ghost, Jerusa might already be dead.
“If I find a map, can you show me where she’s at?”
Foster shook his head yes.
“Can you follow me if I jump from place to place?”
The ghost nodded that he could, but Silvanus thought he saw doubt swimming in his eyes.
“Then follow me to a map and let’s hope we’re not too late.”
Silvanus searched his understanding of the city for the best place to find a map. He had gained much from the human minds he had searched, but in a way he still felt lost and confused. A stranger in a strange land. He needed a place of books, a temple of information. The New York Public Library popped into his mind. He didn’t know if it would be the most efficient place to find a map, but he didn’t have time to think of a better place.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the name of the library, on his knowledge of the topography of New York. He didn’t know where in the building he would appear or if the humans there would be astonished or be blind to his arrival as they so often seemed to be. All he knew was he had to get to Jerusa.
Silvanus prepared to take a step out of that alley and into the library when a strange sensation covered him from head to toe. His skin tingled as though he stood in the midst of a great ball of static electricity. But this was no natural phenomenon for the static had a weighted feel as though a net had been cast over top of him. Silvanus tried to ignore the static and attempted to jump from the alley to the library, but when he placed his foot down and opened his eyes he remained right where he had been before.
Foster glanced about in nervous agitation. Could he feel the net surrounding them? Or did he see something Silvanus couldn’t see. Suddenly, without a sound, Laura appeared in the alley standing no more than ten feet from Silvanus. Her arms were outstretched as though she were awaiting an embrace. Silvanus started to ask her what was happening, but before he could form the words, nine others appeared, all of them holding hands, forming a locked circle around him.
Silvanus turned in place, searching the faces of the ten besieging him. They were young, handsome men and beautiful women, all of them, yet their eyes were grim and filled with inhuman indignation. He turned once again to face Laura. The look of anger upon her face startled him.
“Hello, Laura. Why do you seem so angry with me?” She didn’t answer him. “I thought that I would see you again, but had I known you were going to bring the other Divine Vampires with you I’d have chosen a more congenial meeting spot. As it is, I don’t have time to talk right now. A friend of mine needs my help.”
Silvanus tried once again to leap from the area and found that he was unable to do so. “Are you holding me here?” he asked Laura.
“Yes,” she said, without much emotion. She seemed to be in deep concentration. “I’m sorry, but we can’t let you leave.”
“And why is that? I have done nothing wrong. Release me and let me go to my friend.”
“And to whom do you wish to visit?” asked one of the men. He was tall with thick blond hair and a defined cleft in his chin. “Off to see your fledgling, are you?”
Silvanus turned to the man. “As a matter of fact I am. Her name is Jerusa and she is in grave peril. So, if you don’t mind, let me go on my way.”
“We can’t do that,” said a flaxen-haired beauty with pale green eyes. “We have much to discuss, Silvanus.”
“Believe me, there is much I would love to discuss with you. I have been searching for you for many months, but now is not the time. My friend needs me. I must go to her.”
“She is a blood drinker,” said another of the ten. This one was a black man, shorter with a muscular build. “Blood drinkers are no concern to us. They are vile parasites. Deceitful and conniving. Why should it matter to us if they destroy each other?”
Silvanus’s limbs felt light and detached from his body. His face flushed hot and he clenched his jaw to keep the magma of anger stirring in his chest from erupting. “Jerusa may be a blood drinker, but she is neither vile nor a parasite. She is one of the few beings in this world that has shown me kindness. And that includes the ten of you. Are we not the same? Why do you treat me as an enemy?”
The tall man with the cleft chin spoke again. “We are the true immortals. We have not witnessed another of our kind in many thousands of years, but you have broken our one covenant…the only law by which we live.”
“And what law is that?”
The black man spoke up. “We are forbidden to give or take the life’s blood of any creature. It is this that defines us. It is this that made us what we are. To partake in the blood rituals is to blaspheme against our very nature.”
“I was unaware of any such law,” Silvanus shouted at the group. “If you wished me to live by your law then Laura should have revealed herself to me when I appeared before her. All I have done since awakening is to search for the truth of who I am. She could have given that to me on the first night. But she chose to flee from me. She chose to keep me blind.”
“I recognized you for what you were,” Laura said, “but I could not be sure from whom you were sent. I feared that the Stewards had finally learned how to regain the light.”
“So I am to be condemned because of your fear?”
“We haven’t condemned you,” said the flaxen haired woman. “The law has never been broken and we’re not yet sure what to do with you.”
“But I didn’t know. How can you judge me for something beyond my understanding?”
“Your ignorance is no excuse,” said the cleft-chin man. “You are Divine. Your very nature told you that it was an abomination.”
“If you wish to judge me, fine,” Silvanus said. “But, please, let me go and save my friend. Give me this one mercy.” He dropped his hands to his sides, willing the fire to kindle in his palms.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. You must come with us.”
Silvanus dropped his head, nodding as though he conceded defeat. He waited a moment for the besieging circle to let down their guard, then he sprang forward with a shout, fire flowing from his hands as though they were the mouths of twin dragons.
The fire rushed toward Laura, but she neither seemed surprised nor attempted to move out of the way. Just inches before the fire engulfed her it met with a curved wall of resistance made visible only by the deflected flow of the flames.
Silvanus turned, dowsing the others with the fire, but they all were protected by the same invisible net that was keeping him from teleporting. He focused his thoughts, intensifying the heat of the flames until they burned white as lightning. The air shimmered from the intense heat, revealing the dimensions of the invisible dome covering him. Soon, there was no oxygen left for the fire to breathe and it began to smother shortly after leaving his hands.
Silvanus quenched the fire in his palms. His skin was baked from the heat. His clothes were singed. The soles of his shoes were melted to the scorched pavement, leaving tacky prints as he stepped forward.
“Let me go,” he shouted. He looked into the faces of his ten captors and found no mercy. How had it come to this? All he had dreamed of since awakening in the mountain lab was to find others like himself to learn from, commune with and now that he had found them they were treating him as though her were the most evil of criminals. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Let me go to Jerusa and I vow that I will return to you.”
A look of doubt passed over the faces of a few, but none answered him. Instead they stepped in closer, tightening the circles. They stood shoulder to shoulder now, their clasped hands down at their hips. They closed their eyes and lowered their heads.
Silvanus rushed them, pushing all of his speed and power into the attack. If he couldn’t teleport through their invisible net, perhaps he could bull his way through. He dropped his shoulder fully expecting to burst thro
ugh their ranks, but instead he met a solid wall of blinding pain that sent him tumbling backward.
He pushed to his knees. His head filled with the roaring bustle of the whole city. The ground shifted beneath him in rolling waves. A bright ball of light appeared before each of the ten Divines. Tendrils of lightning reached out from the orbs, fanning in all directions, overlapping and intertwining until the entire invisible dome was filled with their resplendence. The orbs pulsed with slow but bright strobes. They buzzed and vibrated like enormous angry bees. Silvanus’s body began to turn clockwise against his will. He tried to plant his feet, to stop the spinning, but found he was now several inches off of the ground. The ring of Divine Vampires was turning too, counter-clockwise, their feet lifting above the pavement and the orbs of light dancing before their chests.
Faster and faster the opposing circles turned, until the ten Divines became a grayish backdrop and their orbs of light melted into a ring of searing emptiness. Silvanus was falling, tumbling, uncontrolled, down a bottomless pit. He tried to reach out for the white ring that followed him down into the pit, but he could not grasp it.
“Let me go,” he said. Or maybe he only thought it. “Let me save her.”
The glowing ring of light swelled, brightened beyond what he thought possible. Then, without warning, the spinning stopped and Silvanus felt as though he had fallen from the moon and crashed into the earth. The ten looked up in unison and their orbs shot forth, hitting him all at once.
The pain was immense, but short. He sank into a frigid darkness and just before he yielded to its grasp, he thought he saw Foster reaching out for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jerusa followed Ming down a familiar path. They were heading to the room with the stage she had hidden under yesterday. The Judgment Room. She slowed her pace, glancing over her shoulder, hoping that Shufah, Taos and Thad would be following close behind. The only one behind her, though, was Ralgar who greeted her with a sneer and a hard shove to the back.
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