Feral Song

by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

  “Jeremy Landis is still out there. The police are looking for him, but they don’t have him yet.”

  Her resolve wavers. The vampire makes a good point. It might be easier to freeze him out if he wasn’t trying to be so reasonable. Or if he had a bit more bravado about him. Instead he seems like an ordinary guy who got himself into something he shouldn’t have. If ordinary guys were vampires. She reminds herself that no matter how attractive she might find him, he is neither ordinary, nor entirely a man.

  He’s waiting, carefully watching the cruiser parked at the curb.

  “Okay come in,” she says finally. “But stay here.” She points to a spot on the floor where she’ll be out of his reach.

  Obediently he comes to stand where she’s bid him, like an actor making his mark. He could be an actor she thinks when she sees him in the light. He’s tall and squared jawed with commanding blue eyes. His gaze snaps to the camera above the door, then back to her.

  “Don’t worry about it. It hasn’t worked in years. The police have no video of you. They extracted their wanted poster from the surveillance camera next door.”

  His shoulders sag with relief. He pulls off his hood, revealing a head of dark curls, mussed now from his hood. The overall effect is one of boyish charm. She’s sure it’s been a long time since he was a boy and refuses to buy into it.

  He holds out his hand. “Dax.”

  He doesn’t offer his last name, so neither does she. “Myah.” His skin is warmer than she expected. Then again, he said he’d eaten. She stops herself from thinking about that. “Okay Dax. Nice to meet you. I’ll give you the bullet points—pun intended— and then you need to get yourself out of here, understand?”

  He offers her the ghost of a smile. “Skip the bullet points. I think I’ve figured that much out. This guy, Jeremy—”

  “Landis.”

  “He was some kind of mad scientist who was incarcerated for trying to create a super vampire, or something.”

  “Or something. You make it sound like a B-grade movie. It was a lot worse than that.”

  His jaw twitches. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make light of a really bad situation.”

  “Honestly, you really can’t imagine.”

  “I believe you. Question is, why didn’t you turn me in? And what did he want with you?”

  The officer in the car glances at the store. The last thing she needs is for him to come in to make sure all is well. She waves reassuringly in his direction before pulling Dax further into the shadows.

  “The answer to your first question is, you saved me from my worst nightmare, so I thought I owed you a favor. I know the cops don’t always deal fairly with vampires, even though they have their own department now.”

  “True enough. Though the vampire liaison seems like a decent enough guy.”

  She lets that comment go. Until now she’s never entertained the idea that vampires could be decent guys. Should confess the rest of her story? Since she escaped, she’s never told a soul the truth about what she is. The police are only starting to figure out what they’ve stumbled upon. They think they have the whole picture, but the extent of Jeremy’s experiments has yet to be fully discovered. Once they are, everyone will know. The last person she wants to trust is a vampire. Still, he did save her...but he won’t like the truth.

  “Jeremy wanted me because I’m unique. I’m the only one of a particular experiment who survived. I’m the anti-vampire.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “ANTI-VAMPIRE?”

  She can only imagine what that phrase means to him. The truth is, she is immune to vampire charisma, equal in strength, able to fight off anything Jeremy’s uber-vamps can throw at her. She doesn’t enlighten Dax though. The more he knows, the worse it’ll be for both of them. So she only says, “Yeah.” And leaves it at that.

  Dax opens his mouth to ask a question. “What does that?”

  Before he can finish his thought a loud crash reverberates through the store. The bare bulb light in the back room sways on its cable. On the street, the officer gets out of his cruiser and moves swiftly toward the store. Something is happening. Something that’s drawn the officer’s attention.

  Dax’s gaze darts to the back door. “We have to go. Now.”

  “I can’t leave the store. My friend, the owner, she’s on her way. With her kid.”

  He’s hesitant to touch her again. She can tell by the expression on his face. He’s probably still wondering what she means by anti-vampire. He’s likely worried she’s capable of burning his skin like the sun. Instead he holds out his hand, indicating the back window he got in through. “There’s a police officer outside. I’m sure more are coming. Let’s get ourselves out of here before they arrive.”

  Myah’s dark gaze sweeps over her surroundings, taking in the officer who’s nearly made it to the front door and the still swaying light in the back room, before coming to rest on the window. It’s probably their only way of getting out undetected. Her feet are in motion before her brain kicks in, leaving Dax to follow her. No way will she allow herself to land back in Jeremy’s clutches. The police will protect the owner and her child. But despite their best intentions, Myah knows they can’t help her.

  She reaches the window and propels herself effortlessly through it. Dax follows a little less elegantly. She races down the alleyway, her unwanted tail close behind her. She wishes he’d stayed away. She did him a favor by diverting the attention away from him. He should have smothered his curiosity and gone on with his life.

  From the roof above her acute hearing picks up the muffled sounds of a scuffle. Someone, no several someones are attempting to break in through a second floor window. That’s not good. They must be desperate to do it in full view of the police. Only Jeremy’s crew would be so bold. They’re counting on the element of surprise overwhelming the lone police officer. Hopefully he’s called for backup. Again her heart clenches when she thinks of her friend about to arrive at the store with a sick child. Hopefully the police will intercept them before they reach the store. Part of her wants to return to protect her friend, but how would she explain the situation? Dax is right, she must let the police handle it. The farther away she gets, the better it will be for everyone.

  Dax has his hood pulled up again and he’s being extra careful to keep to the shadows. She can’t imagine how they’re going to get to safety without dragging the vampire into the sun.

  She turns back to him. “You should go. They don’t know who you are yet. You should just go home.”

  “I’m sure someone’s caught a glimpse of me by now. Home probably isn’t the best place to go.” His voice sounds strained. Probably from the sunlight all around him and the insubstantial shade in which he’s trying to hide. “Just keep going.”

  “Keep going where?”

  He catches up to her and grasps her arm. The touch is startling because he hasn’t asked permission to touch her and because of the small jolt that arcs between them. He feels it too because he almost drops his hand, but instead he propels her down an adjoining alleyway.

  “I know a place.”

  She has nowhere to go now. Her place would be a obvious choice and like he said, his probably isn’t much better. She can’t think of anywhere to hide, either from the police, or from Jeremy. If Landis has followed her this far, he’s also found all her bolt holes.

  “What kind of place?”

  “A vampire’s day place. We all have them. Places we can hide out if we’re caught out in the daylight.”

  He should have listened to her, Dax tells himself as they race through the precarious shadows. He’s thankful for some long ago city planner’s idea of keeping the street front pristine by creating a large network of laneways behind the stores. They allow him to move in safely in the shadows, but the searing sun taunts him. It lingers just beyond the insubstantial shadows’ reach. It whispers to him that it is long past time he was asleep. He longs to fall into that deep black featureless rest. It’s a huge eff
ort to keep his senses alert and his reflexes sharp.

  So far no one is pursuing them, but it won’t take them long. The police officer must have noticed Myah missing by now. And whoever was intent on breaking in the second floor window would likely have collided with the police. He stops his imagination from pursing that scene. Still, it’s possible a surveillance camera in one of the back alleys might have picked up their trail, so he takes them the long way around.

  Myah is getting impatient. She keeps shooting anxious glances over her shoulder. He expects her to ask, Are we there yet? But she doesn’t. She just gives him a look that says, You better have this buddy, and keeps running.

  They reach another juncture and barrel down another alley crowded with garbage bins until they finally reach a dead end and a door rears up before them. Not so much of a entrance than a heavily nailed up remnant of a door. To the right is a narrow staircase leading downward. Bricks are missing from the sides and the stairs are worn as smooth as marble. He dives into the staircase and pulls her after him. He knows where all the slippery parts are, but Myah loses her balance. He reaches out to steady her, but with lightning reflexes, she rights herself. The tiny door at the bottom is locked. He yanks a key from his pocket and shoves it into the lock. He has to stoop low to squeeze beneath the threshold, but Myah manages it easily. Slamming the door, he locks it and leans against it listening.

  In the alley above them, he hears someone wheeling out a bin. Footsteps retreat. A door closes. A loose can blows down the pavement until it becomes lodged against the far wall. He listens for more footsteps and hears none. Cautiously he allows his body to relax.

  “Well,” Myah whispers into the darkness. “This isn’t creepy at all.”

  If not for worrying about who might be lurking in the alley above them or possibly trying to track their progress on surveillance cameras, he might laugh.

  “Really, it’s not so bad.” He reaches into an alcove behind her and pulls out the stub of a candle and a lighter. The flame flickers, then the wick catches and yellow light blooms around them.

  “How very gothic.”

  “Best I can do.” He doesn’t tell her how beautiful she looks in the candlelight. How the gentle light gives her a golden glow he finds very appealing.

  “You probably don’t need them, do you? The candles. You can likely see in the dark.”

  “I can,” he admits. “But it’s a lot homier with a little bit of light.” He imagines she can probably see in the dark too, but she doesn’t offer the information and he doesn’t ask.

  “No electricity?”

  “The power was turned off years ago.”

  “And the camera over the back door?”

  “Smashed, also years ago.”

  “And you just happen to have a key to such a place?”

  “Well, yes, since I own it.” He really shouldn’t have told her this part. He’s hidden the building’s ownership in shell companies in order to keep it under his control. Now that the existence of vampires is known, it’s probably not necessary, but he hasn’t changed any of his arrangements, hedging his bets.

  “Of course it is.” She sounds at once both impressed and sarcastic.

  “I work in theater. It’s always been a dream of mine to own my own theater company. So I bought the place.” He begins leading her toward a couch and a pair of chairs toward the back of a large cavernous basement. “As you can see, it needs a bit of work.”

  A slow smile crosses her face. “You’re a strange man, Dax.”

  “True.” He’s pleased she’s called him a man and not a vampire. He motions for her to take a seat on the couch. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of refreshments.”

  “Not a problem. I don’t need to eat much.”

  That’s a relief. Because if he has to venture back out in the blazing sun, he fears he will go mad. He doesn’t share that with her. He’s already over-shared far too much. Instead he asks, “You aren’t carrying a cell phone, are you? Because if you are, you should probably—”

  “I don’t own such a thing,” she says with great disdain.

  “Oh.” He tries to hide his surprise, because honestly, who doesn’t own a mobile phone these days? Even he has one and he’s older than most great-grannies. But his is safely at home where he’s left it, so if they’re looking for him, that’s where its signal will lead. Briefly, he worries about tonight’s rehearsal, then puts the thought from his mind. Maybe things will have worked themselves out by tonight, he thinks, then realizes that is probably a vain hope.

  Myah gets up from the couch and does a quick tour around the living room. It isn’t much of a living room, Dax thinks, just a sofa and a couple of chairs. But it’s served him well. After a couple of very late nights at the theater, he was lucky to make it this far before the sun rose.

  “So what, every vampire has one of these bolt-holes in case of emergency daylight?” She peers into the darkness beyond the candle’s glow.

  He’s not sure what she’s looking at. He has to admit, he can’t remember the last time he actually cleaned here. “The ones who can afford it, sure. Others just find places they can hide in an emergency. He remembers an uncomfortable day spent in the trunk of his car and shudders.

  She makes a dismissive hmph sound.

  “You don’t like vampires much, do you?” The words spring to his lips before he can stop himself. He isn’t usually like this, he thinks in dismay. What is it about this woman that loosens his tongue?

  Myah gives him a hard look. “You wouldn’t like vampires if you were me, either.” But before he can say anything in the defense of his kind, she says, “I didn’t get to be the anti-vampire by accident. I was created. In order to test my capabilities, I was repeatedly attacked by vampires.”

  He’s out of his seat before he realizes it. He would touch her, wrap her in his arms and tell her how sorry he is for what she’s endured. Protect her.

  Vividly he imagines how small she would feel in his arms, how silky her hair would be as he rests his head against hers. But he draws up short. A woman who’s been attacked by vampires wouldn’t want to be touched by one.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

  “Not your fault.”

  “It feels personal somehow. Like my kind should have refused.”

  “They couldn’t. They did tests on them, too. Tests that turned them feral. Whatever sanity they once had was lost.”

  That information settles like a weight on his chest. For a moment his imagination drags him there, to that torture room where a sentient being is turned into something other. Something with no idea of the harm it’s doing. Would he do the same? Is it possible to strip the personality from someone so thoroughly? He stuffs that information into a tiny box in his mind to be examined later and drags his thoughts back to the present.

  “What happened to them?” He can’t stop himself from asking. “Was there a way to reverse the process?”

  “No.” He hears the hesitation in her voice. “They were...killed.”

  “Oh.”

  She turns toward him then, her face softening in the candle’s light. Despite all she she’s he can’t help noticing how enticing she looks? Is that part of what they did to her? Made her more attractive to vampires? Or is that something natural of her own? Whatever it is, he can’t help the attraction he feels. But he holds his ground. To rush in now would be disaster. He doesn’t want to spook her.

  Myah takes a step toward him, closing the gap. “So here we are. Sworn enemies, hiding out together like rats.”

  “I never swore anything. And we are definitely not rats. No matter what our circumstances, we can get past this.”

  “You make a fine speech, vampire. Are you so certain of that?”

  He’s far from certain, but he nods like he means it. He does reach out then and wraps a lock of hair around his finger. It’s as silky as he imagined. She takes another step toward him, looking up into his eyes. He has only to lean down, to brush her
lips with his and see where that takes him. His gaze snaps to her full lips and he can’t stop his imagination from supplying how lush they will feel beneath his, how feather-soft their kiss would be.

  But instead of rising to meet him, she steps back out of his reach. He watches her give herself a little shake, as if she can’t imagine what she was about to do. He can’t stop a long deep sigh from leaving his lips.

  “So what do we do now? What’s your plan?”

  “Plan?” His mind rushes to change gears, his body lagging behind. “I don’t have a plan.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DISBELIEF AND ANXIETY churn in Myah’s gut. This guy shows up at the store in the middle a rapidly unfolding disaster and turns it all sideways. He says, Come with me, and against her better judgment she does. And now she finds out he doesn’t have a clue about what to do next. He has no idea what kind of mess he’s stepped in. Whatever is coming next she really worries about his ability to handle it. He’s going to get them both killed. She’s sure of it. Fear gets the best of her and she lashes out.

  DAX WATCHES A FLURRY of expressions cross Myah’s face. Anger appears to win. “So what? You thought we’d just stay here. And what? Set up house?”

  He steps back. It’s a reasonable question, but somehow he feels like he’s been slapped. A moment ago he felt like a hero. He got her away from whoever was breaking in through the roof, out of sight from the police. He took her to his safe haven. The one no one else knows about. He can’t help feeling hurt that his grand gesture has been taken so lightly.

  “No,” he admits. “I came to the store to find out what it was I’d accidentally gotten myself into. When those people started breaking in upstairs, I just wanted to get you to safety. This was the only place I could think of. I thought it would give us a while to catch our breath and figure things out.”

  Myah holds up a hand. “I’m sorry. I have a habit of running my mouth. Sometimes it doesn’t serve me well.”