by A. M. Manay
“None. She was probably enthralled, but it’s not like I can put that in the report.”
November closed her eyes and cast about for anything that might be of use. After a few minutes, she sighed. “Nothing,” she said wearily. Lord William swore. They sat in frustrated silence for a moment.
"No, hold up," November said. “There is something that could help. I just realized that it might be significant. I had a vision, when I was in the chase. I saw someone running, past the safe room, towards what I assume is an exit beyond the walls.”
“Describe,” his lordship commanded.
“Tall. Probably a man, but not certain.” Em closed her eyes, trying to remember. It had been such a quick flash. “Blond,” she said, suddenly sure. “Definitely had light hair.” She shivered, her thoughts turning immediately to the resident rebel vampire. Ben. It could have been Ben.
“Rose or Benjamin or Pine, then, or someone else wearing a wig,” William said, as he cast his mental eye over his household. Birch took pains to keep his expression impassive, but his fingers were practically making grooves in the mahogany armrests of his chair.
“Too tall to be Pine or Rose, I think,” November replied to Birch's relief. “Too pale to be Pine.” Ben. It's Ben, her instincts silently screamed.
“When did this person sneak out? Recently? Years ago? Years in the future?” Birch asked. "It might not even be related."
“I’m not sure. I’d have to go back down and look again. Even then, there’s no guarantee I’d get a definite answer.” She paused, thinking more about Benjamin. “I feel I should tell you . . . Ben was acting a little weird in the kitchen just now. He seemed to be trying to plant doubts in my mind about Zinnia. He was talking about how the police found her hair on the victim, how she’s a really good enthraller.” She almost felt bad about casting suspicion on him. Almost.
“He is certainly stupid and ignorant enough to involve humans,” William replied. “I can’t imagine any of the adults doing that under any circumstance.” He picked up his phone and called Pine. “Guard the chase exit personally, with Greg. I don’t want anyone getting out of here tonight.” He hung up with no further explanation.
“What’s the plan?” Birch asked.
“Well, we’re not waiting for days until we can sneak November into the crime scene or steal the poor wretch’s favorite earrings,” William said with barely suppressed impatience.
“You could have the human and Savita examine everyone in the house,” suggested Lt. Cyprus.
“That would also take days, I’m afraid,” November replied.
“We could start with examining Ben, as he’s now the prime suspect.” Birch ran his hands once again through his hair, thinking before continuing, “That would tell us his guilt. Unfortunately, humans can’t give evidence against vampires in court, so you’d need additional evidence to execute him.”
“Setting aside for a moment how incredibly offensive that is, wouldn’t Savita be able to give evidence?” November asked.
“Yes, but telepathy is hit or miss. There are ways to train the mind to avoid thinking about particular things while being examined. If I were going to send in a spy, I’d make sure to teach him how to do that,” William explained. The room went quiet while every mind ran in circles, looking for a way to bring the mole to light in a judicially acceptable fashion.
“I have an idea,” November said slowly. “You’re not going to like it.”
***
When Ben next saw November, twenty minutes later, she was standing outside the linen closet down the hall from her room. “What’s the story, morning glory?” he asked casually, leaning against the wall beside her.
November took a deep breath. “Maybe you can help me. See, when I was going down the passageway earlier, I had a brief vision of someone running down the hall. I couldn’t tell who it was. So I was thinking I should go back down there and check it out, but . . ." She paused sheepishly before continuing, “I’m afraid to go down there by myself. Could you come with me?” Is he really going to fall for this?
“Sure,” he said with a wide smile. “Any excuse to hang out in the dark with my favorite human.”
Looking at his seemingly genuine smile, she wondered which way she was hoping this would turn out. Was she rooting for guilt or for innocence? As they descended, anxiety twisted her insides. She had thought to wear a winter coat this time, so at least she was warm and snug beneath a designer black wool number. Why did I ever say this idea out loud?
As they walked down the long passage, he asked how she was doing. “I mean, heartbreak wise,” he clarified.
“Okay, I guess,” she replied, trying desperately to sound normal. “It was hard to be near William at first, but there’s so much else to worry about right now that I don’t have time to dwell on it. Mostly I just feel stupid for falling for it. It’s kind of humiliating. I’ve never been the love-struck schoolgirl before. I thought girls like that were silly and frivolous, like I had nothing in common with them. Apparently, I should not have been so judgmental.” It felt so strange, chatting with him as though she was sure of his friendship. She felt like she was talking too quickly.
“Happens to everyone sooner or later.”
The pair stopped a few dozen yards before the safe room.
“This is where I saw it,” she said, kneeling to put her hands to the smooth concrete. She concentrated, seeking truth and fearing to find it. She caught the sprinter, slowed his stride. She found his face, found the scarf in his hand and the murder in his eyes. Returning to the present, she stood to face him. She took an involuntary step backward, which told the young vampire everything he needed to know. He smiled again, coldly delighted to be found out.
“Don’t be frightened, November. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re too valuable for anyone to hurt you. We’re just going to leave this place, and I’ll take you to your new home. Thanks to you, we’re mere yards from a perfect escape.” He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t stop watching his face in horror. The relaxed visage of a slacker ski bum had been replaced by the wild eyes and euphoria of a desperate man— a hungry and desperate man.
“You’ll be much happier once Luka sets you free of the bondage of your human life. And you’ll be part of building a wonderful new world. You’ll be a hero to generations of our people. You’re really very lucky.” He touched her face, seeming not to notice her revulsion. Suddenly, his body pressed hers against the wall. The cold fingers of one hand were pulling at the collar of her turtleneck, tearing the fabric like tissue paper, while the other hand squeezed her arm too tightly.
“No, Ben, don’t. You don't want to do this,” she begged in a whisper, not sure whom she was trying to save.
“Hush, now. You liked it well enough when the lord of the manor did it,” he replied with a twist of bitterness. “I can’t turn you over to Luka without at least getting a taste first. It's my only chance. I doubt he’s much for sharing. Magic humans are quite the delicacy, I’m told. You can scream if you want. It’s soundproof down here.” He smiled a terribly sharp grin as he promised, “I’ll be careful.”
Just as his fangs were about to pierce her skin, Ben turned his head, reacting to a sudden sound. This was November’s cue to drop to the ground as William and Birch leapt from the bolt-hole and tackled Ben.
Ben never had a chance against them. His elders were so much faster, so much stronger with the centuries of life’s blood and energy fueling them. The traitor howled in frustration and pain as they bound him in silver with their gloved hands. He writhed on the floor as William bent down to check on November.
“I’m fine, but I’m afraid that you owe me a new sweater.” With trembling hands, she handed William back his phone, which they had used to record the entire episode.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied with a trace of a smile. “Good work, human.” He helped her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re alrig
ht to walk back?”
“Yeah. I was dizzy, but I’m okay now.” She managed a smile that, based on William’s expression, was not terribly convincing. “Really, go deal with that . . . creature,” she said with revulsion. “I’ll be right behind you. I’m going to need a few minutes to calm down though, before I can be useful.”
“Of course.”
The men began carrying the prisoner back down the passage while November walked a dozen paces behind, not wanting to get too close to her former friend. The vitriol erupting from his mouth made her skin crawl. She wanted to ignore him but feared she might miss something important. Once he started screaming about what a whore she was, she decided that blocking him out was the best course of action after all. I really hate that word, she thought. Men only call a woman a whore if they're angry that they can't control her.
The men exited the passageway when they came to a cutoff for the dungeon. Em continued to climb up to the linen closet. She just needed to get away from Ben for a few minutes. Her skin prickled. She felt cold where he had touched her. Her clothes smelled like him.
Though she’d remained calm while down in the chase, she fell apart once she reached the safety of her bedroom. She caught sight of herself in the mirror: her clothes torn, her neck bare, her cream skin and the edge of her pink bra exposed. It was then that she really began to shake all over, tears pouring silently out of her shock-widened eyes.
She told herself that all had gone to plan, that she had never been in real danger. She had thought she had been prepared to feel Ben turn on her. It had been her idea, after all, to lay a trap for her erstwhile friend. Even still, the look in his eyes had terrified her. They had been full of lust and violence and the fire of radical belief. They were a potent reminder that the enemy she’d signed on to fight was dangerous and merciless and dogged, and she feared that the next time she had to face one Luka's loyalists, she might be all alone, with no one ready to jump out and save her.
After a few minutes, she managed to pull herself together. She changed clothes and washed her face just in time for Zinnia to come barreling through the door. Her fairy friend was crying with equal parts relief and fury, not wanting to believe that Ben had tried to frame her but overjoyed that November had cleared her of suspicion. “You saved me,” she kept telling November, over and over again.
“You’d do the same for me,” the human replied. “I knew it couldn’t be you. No one really believed it.” November stroked her friend’s back as the fairy cried on her shoulder. She glanced at the shards of images that presented themselves: Zinnia crying in her cell all alone, thankfully not in chains. She saw Zinnia’s relief and shock as Ben was dragged in to take her place, her screaming rage as she flew at her former friend, Willow and Daniel pulling her away lest she kill the guilty party before he could be questioned.
“They put me in the dungeon, Em,” she cried, heartbroken. “I’ve known them since I was born, and they put me in the dungeon.”
“I know,” November answered. “But what else could they do? Besides, you were safer there, and it made it easier to catch Ben.” Her friend interrupted her weeping to look up quizzically, so November explained, “Ben might well have tried to kill you, to make it look as if you were guilty and had run away. With you under guard, he didn’t have the opportunity. And it made Ben think Lord William had believed his ruse, which made him careless enough to be tricked into giving himself away.
"You were the last person anyone wanted to believe was a traitor,” November emphasized. “That’s one thing that’s so insidious about this. Knowing there is a traitor in the house, everyone starts doubting each other. It weakens us even above and beyond the information he gave Luka.”
Zinnia finally calmed down enough to say, “At least it’s over. You caught him, and we have one less thing to worry over, especially with the king coming next month. That’ll be a security nightmare.”
November was about to ask her friend to tell her more about the court when they were interrupted by Savita, who quickly embraced them both and asked if they were alright. After the appropriate reassurances were made, November said, “Let me guess – he wants me downstairs.”
“Indeed, we do. Are you ready to face Benjamin?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. Might as well get it over with,” the seer replied. “Is Lord William going to kill him?”
“Yes, eventually,” the lord’s sister replied. “He will be tried first.”
“With your brother as judge?”
“Perhaps. I know, our ways must be strange to you.”
“At least I won’t have to testify, right?” November asked, unnerved by the thought.
Savita paused a bit awkwardly before answering, “No, humans cannot give evidence to convict a vampire or fairy.” November was both relieved and offended. “There’s the recording, and Birch can testify, as he was witness to your conversation.”
“Are you okay, Zin?” November asked her friend.
The fairy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Yes. Go ahead. Find out everything. Squeeze the bastard dry.”
***
Ben looked a bit worse for wear by the time November arrived in the basement. William and Birch evidently hadn’t been gentle while transporting the prisoner. It appeared that they’d grown irritated with his vocal bravado and gagged him. It looked like the whole household was in the dungeon, seeking a glimpse of the traitor, disgust in their eyes. Lord William declared that enough was enough and sent them all packing. Only he, Birch, Savita, and November remained when he closed the door.
The fire in Ben’s eyes grew dimmer as fear began to take over. As brave as he might try to be when questioned, there was no way to fight the two magical women standing in his cell.
November almost felt sorry for him, until she thought of the gas station attack, poor dead Carly, her murdered mother, betrayed Zinnia, and her own near-miss kidnapping in the tunnel. As she sat down to begin, he looked right at her. She expected rage or hatred, but what she saw instead was more like shame, a sort of acceptance of the fact that he had lost and acknowledgement of the fact that she and her gift had prevailed this time. It was almost as if he no longer cared what happened. She soon began to see how that might be.
As she immersed herself in visions of Ben’s life, November watched him get turned by his vampire father. Ben had been enthralled when he died, pain-free and unaware that his human life was bleeding away. He clawed his way out of the earth to find his maker and his sister waiting with his first vampire meal, a pretty young woman dressed to the nines.
His sister was beautiful and sad, with green eyes and perfectly coiffed blond hair. November watched Ben fall in love with her while her will to live continued to fade away. She saw Ben discover her ashes after her suicide. She listened to him wail like a wounded animal. She watched Ben go off the rails, carelessly feeding, taking no care to avoid discovery or suspicion, constantly reproved by his maker, who himself was maddened by grief for his daughter.
Finally, she saw the moment when Ben took a step too far. He killed a girl, a werewolf girl who’d caught his eye and had tried to fight back when he attempted to prey upon her. He lost control, tore her to pieces, and only afterward began to realize what he had done.
She saw Ben and his father surrounded by angry wolves, saw Ben’s father offer himself to the dead girl’s father in place of his child, in order to preserve the peace. Ben could do nothing to stop it, watched them tear his sire apart until the resulting rivers of blood turned to ash. She watched him scream alone into the dark once the wolves tired of mocking him.
She watched him fall further into despair, starving himself, nursing his hatreds until a man with two different colored eyes came calling. He spoke to the vampire child’s pain, turned his loss and resentment into something useful. Luka led Ben down the primrose path, leading him to blame William and the rest of the vampire establishment for his loss and abandonment.
Luka told Ben that he had b
een right to kill that werewolf girl, that she was his enemy and deserved to die. He told Ben that his maker would still be alive if only William Knox hadn’t made a peace treaty with the werewolves and charged his lesser lords with preserving it. He told him that his beautiful lover would still be alive if she’d had the guidance of a real vampire, a strong predator who could have taught her the proper pride.
Luka’s seeds had found fertile ground in Ben’s grief and humiliation, and by the time Lord William had come to take Ben in hand, his loyalty was to the scheming Lord of Arizona. She watched Ben making furtive calls on a disposable cell phone. Sometimes he seemed frightened while listening to the person on the other end. She supposed that Luka might be a rather impatient and exacting task master. It must have been difficult, spending so many months as a spy, all alone amongst his enemies.
She watched him enthrall the doomed maid, sending her on his errands. She watched him make friends with Zinnia and try to pump her for information, with a fair amount of success. She watched him steal Zinnia’s scarf and strangle the unfortunate Carly. Finally, exhausted, and afraid to look to the boy’s future, she surfaced back in the present.
She shook her head to try to clear it. “Was I gone long?”
“About two hours,” William answered, casually sipping blood out of a beer stein. She glanced at Ben, whose eyes never left the blood and whose fangs had descended of their own accord. Young vampires had to eat often to keep up their strength, especially when injured. Ben was seriously hungry. Savita was scribbling notes in a pad, and the recorder on the table was running. They had been questioning him the whole time she’d been under. “Let’s take a break,” Lord William commanded, ushering everyone out of the room and locking the door securely behind him. He left the glass of blood on the table, just out of Ben’s reach, of course.
