Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis

by P. T. Dilloway

  “This is a fairly advanced book. Perhaps you should try something from our young adult section?”

  “No, I have to read this,” Emma said. She added, “For school.”

  “Oh, I see. I would suggest checking it out and having someone read it to you.”

  “I don’t need anyone to read to me. I’m not a little kid.”

  “I’m not saying you are. The library does offer adult literacy classes.”

  “I’m not illiterate!”

  “Keep your voice down, please.”

  “Sorry.” Emma wiped at her eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know I can do this. I’m just a little tired today.”

  “Of course,” the woman said in a tone that indicated she didn’t believe this excuse.

  “I guess I should check this out.” Emma reached into her purse and then realized she didn’t have a library card. “Could I get a library card?”

  “Certainly.”

  Emma followed the woman to the front desk; she gave her name and address with Becky. The old woman leaned forward and tented her fingers. “I’m sorry, young lady, but it’s the library’s policy not to allow felons to take items from the library.”

  “Felons? But I’m not—”

  “It’s in the computer. I’m sorry.”

  Emma hung her head in defeat and left the book on the counter. Outside, she sat on a bench and tried not to cry. I’m not a felon, she thought. I’d never do anything like that. She knew in her heart this was true, just like she knew she wasn’t slow. And she wasn’t a vampire. I’m a good girl, she told herself.

  She took Jim’s sculpture out of the bag. Jim liked her and she liked him. That was something she could feel certain about. She stroked the orange hair of the sculpture and pressed it to her chest like a baby. Despite everything else, she knew she could believe he felt about her the same way she did about him.

  ***

  She took a bus back to the apartment so she could change before she met Jim. Becky sat on a beanbag chair in the living room; she didn’t look up from the thirteen-inch TV on a pile of pizza boxes. Emma wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what she could say that would be any different from earlier.

  When she rummaged around the piles on the floor, she found only T-shirts and jeans. Didn’t she own any skirts? She did manage to find one under the bed, a black leather skirt that barely covered her panties. This seemed like it would give Jim the wrong idea about her. She tossed the skirt away and found a pair of black jeans and a baggy T-shirt. She shook her hair free from its ponytail to let it flow freely down her back.

  Then she took the sculpture out of its plastic bag. She decided to put it on top of her dresser, where she could see it when she woke up and went to bed. She only hoped Becky wouldn’t take it and throw it out the window.

  Before she left, she stopped in front of the mirror to smile broadly. Her teeth still looked normal, without the fangs she’d seen last night. She put on a fresh coat of lipstick and a little blush. That would be enough. It was just coffee after all.

  “I’m going out,” Emma said. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Whatever,” Becky grumbled.

  This hit Emma like a slap in the face, but she tried not to let it bother her too much. Becky just wanted to protect her, but Becky didn’t understand about Jim. She didn’t understand Jim wouldn’t hurt Emma; he cared about her the way no one else probably had.

  She decided to walk to the coffee shop; again she kept her eyes down on the ground so she wouldn’t be tempted by anyone’s neck. That didn’t mean she couldn’t smell them; the scent of their bodies filled her nostrils. She tried to ignore this and focus her thoughts on Jim.

  He waited for her in the coffee shop; he’d already bought a cup for himself. “You look great,” he said. He put a hand on the small of her back.

  “Thanks.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “Just a cup of tea is fine.”

  “You might have to be more specific. They have like twenty kinds of tea.”

  “Oh.” Emma’s face turned warm at this. She let Jim keep his hand on her back, as he guided her up to the counter. She read the long list of teas and then said, “Earl Grey.”

  “Earl. Like you, right? Only you’re not gray.” He moved his hand up to touch her hair. He refused to let her pay for the order. “It’s my treat.”

  She took her tea over to the table; Jim held out the chair for her to sit down and then pushed her in before he sat down. She smiled at this and wished Becky could see it. Then again, Becky would think it was all part of his plan to get into her pants.

  “So how was day two?” he asked.

  “I think I’m getting the hang of it. I made sure my drawer was five cents short.”

  “You’d better mix it up or she’ll think you’re doing it on purpose.”

  “You’re right,” Emma said with a laugh. “I put your sculpture in my room. On my dresser.”

  “You really like it?”

  “It’s beautiful.” Her cheeks turned warm again. “No one’s ever made something like that for me before.” She felt reasonably certain this was true. From what Becky said, she doubted any of the men in her life had ever given her anything other than maybe a joint or needle or whatever she’d used.

  “There’s something else I want to show you,” he said. He reached into his pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. On it she saw a charcoal drawing of a woman. When she looked more closely at the wavy hair and the too-big nose, she realized it was her. Except that she was naked, her too-small breasts fully exposed. “You don’t like it?”

  “I’m just surprised. How did you—?”

  “Just a guess. I didn’t sneak a peek at you in the bathroom or anything.”

  “Oh. That’s good. I guess.”

  “You hate it,” he said. He folded the drawing back up.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I thought you were cool, not some kind of prude.”

  “I’m not a prude. It’s a little early for you to be making naked pictures of me, don’t you think?”

  “That dude in Titanic drew his girl naked on their first date.”

  “That was just a movie.”

  “So?”

  “Is that what you want? You want to see me naked?” Emma shook her head. “Becky was right. You’re no different than anyone else. You just want to use me.”

  “Emma, no. I really do think you’re cool.” He brushed the tangled hair away from his face; his red-brown eyes pleaded with her. “I really like you.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you like me?”

  “Because you’re nice. And smart.”

  “I’m not smart. I can barely read.”

  “Maybe you’re not book smart, but you’re smart in other ways.”

  “Uh-huh. Right.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I thought you really liked me. I thought we had something special. But it’s not. You’re just like everyone else,” she said. She pushed away from the table and then stood up. “Thank you for the tea.”

  She stomped out of the coffee shop and heard Jim follow after her. When he put a hand on her arm, she spun around and slapped him hard enough to double him over. “Leave me alone!”

  She left him there to recover while she ran from him—again. Once again she found herself in an alley. To make things worse, her stomach began to rumble with hunger. She knew what it wanted, not bagels or crackers but blood. She couldn’t give in, couldn’t become a monster like that shadow woman.

  As she thought of what she’d just done to Jim, she supposed she already was a monster. The look in his eyes had told her he did care about her. The drawing was just a drawing, not some kind of fantasy. Part of her had known this, but at that point she’d already been so angry that she couldn’t stop herself.

  She heard something rustle around in the end of the alley. At first she worried it might be the shadow
woman to mock her again. Then she worried it might be Megan or another bum. It wasn’t either of these.

  It was just a rat. A very large rat, probably three feet long without the tail. Its fur was black with a silver streak along the back that gave it a skunk-like look. The rat turned to her; its beady eyes glared at her. It hissed at her before it turned back to rummage through the trash of the alley.

  As Emma watched it, her hunger grew. Well, if she couldn’t kill a human, then maybe she could kill a rat. It’s not like anyone would really miss one rat in a city infested with millions of them. She’d do the city a favor and eliminate another disease carrier.

  She crouched down as she approached the rat. It ignored her to focus on its task. She sprang on it like a cat and grabbed the rat’s sides before it could react. She pressed it flat to the ground and bent her head down towards its neck. She didn’t really know where to bite the rat, but she supposed it wouldn’t matter.

  She leaned down; her cheek felt the rat’s coarse fur. The fangs elongated to press against the rat’s neck. All she had to do was push them in and it would be done.

  Emma pulled back to let the rat go. It skittered away into a storm drain, probably back to the sewers. Emma collapsed to the ground and buried her head in her hands. No, she couldn’t kill a rat either. She couldn’t kill any living creature. It was all the same. A rat’s life didn’t matter less than her own; the rat probably had its own family down there in the sewers, a family she would deprive for her own selfish needs.

  “I can’t do it,” she said. She felt the fangs again to make sure they were real. This time there could be no doubt about what she was: she was a vampire.

  Chapter 15

  The headlines the next day mentioned nothing about Tim Cooper or a robotic suit of armor. Renee never usually read The New Stockholm Times—like any kid her age she relied on the Internet when she read any news at all—but this morning she bought a copy to read about the capture of Erik the Red’s chief lieutenant, Henrik Tallander. As she read the article, Renee cursed under her breath.

  Most of the article talked about the heroic Detective Sylvia Joubert. The reporter made it sound as if Sylvia had single-handedly held down Tallander and his goons until backup arrived. Numerous Bolivian arms dealers were taken into custody as well and their ship impounded. Millions of dollars of weapons had been impounded by the police department. As for Sylvia, she would be honored by a ceremony at city hall for her bravery and receive a commendation for valor and the key to the city.

  Renee threw the newspaper to the ground in disgust. Besides that it didn’t mention Tim or the armor, the article didn’t mention Renee either. The paper made it sound as if Sylvia had done the whole thing on her own. “That stupid—witch!” Renee screamed. She amended the last word since she was in the cafeteria at school.

  “Are you all right?” Aggie asked. She stood shyly in front of Renee’s table, her backpack clutched in front of her like a shield.

  “What do you want? Sophie not want to hang around with you anymore?”

  “I just wanted to apologize for being so mean to you when you came to visit.”

  Renee stared at her friend for a moment and saw the pitiful puppy dog look in Aggie’s eyes. She sighed and then said, “It’s all right. You should have been mad. I was stupid to make you lie for that no good rat.”

  “Your cousin?”

  “He’s not my cousin. Obviously.”

  “Then what—?”

  “He’s just this jerk I met.” Though she didn’t want to, Renee began to cry. “I thought he liked me. But he thinks I’m just some stupid little kid.”

  She felt Aggie’s hand on her shoulder. “Did he do anything to you?”

  “No! That’s the whole problem. He doesn’t care about me. He likes her.”

  “Who?”

  “Your sister!”

  “Sophie?”

  “No, the other one.”

  “Sylvia?”

  “Duh. How many other sisters do you have?”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. Maybe it’s for the best. I mean, he’s like a lot older than you, isn’t he?”

  “So? It’s just chronological time. I’m more mature than most older women.”

  “Renee—”

  “You don’t understand. No one does!” Renee shook Aggie’s hand away and then bolted from the table. She ran until she was out of breath at the Olga’s down the street. She looked inside the window of the restaurant and imagined Tim there, so rugged and handsome in his work clothes.

  She took the phone from her pocket and dialed the cab company to order a taxi. “And hurry up.”

  The cabbie didn’t give her any crap about how she should still be in school, which was good because otherwise she’d have torn his damned head off. He dropped her off at the factory gates; she paid him extra since he’d kept his mouth shut. When he thanked her, she snapped, “Just get lost already.”

  She stomped across the yard and up the loading dock and rehearsed what she would say to that no good bastard. Her words disappeared when he held out a long wrapped package. “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Just a little present to thank you for your help. I used that account of yours to order it.”

  She wanted to tell him to shove his present up his ass, but she wanted to see what was underneath the shiny red paper. Whatever it was didn’t weigh a whole lot. Probably clothes, she thought. He would be that stupid.

  She tore off the paper, to find a cardboard box. Inside the box was a violin case. She took the violin case out of the box and opened it up to find a violin painted the same turquoise as her hair. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “I thought you could give it a try, just to see if you have any musical talent. Then maybe you could work your way up to a cello someday—if you want.”

  Tears came to Renee’s eyes again, but these were tears of happiness. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” she said with a sniffle. She put the violin to her chin and then ran the bow across the strings. The noise that came from it sounded like when she stepped on Mr. Snuggles’s tail. Her face turned warm with heat. “I guess I need to practice.”

  “I’m sure you’ll become a virtuoso in no time.”

  “You can come listen to me play at Gunderson Hall.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” He motioned to the suit of armor a few feet away. He’d painted it red with the paint she’d left on the sidewalk that day when Sylvia took her into custody. In addition to this he’d attached a golden cape to the shoulders and a golden plume on the helmet. It really did look like a scarlet knight now. “It’s time for me to go,” he said.

  She stared at him for a moment and then bolted as she had in the cafeteria, the violin clutched to her chest.

  ***

  This time Tim followed after Renee; he knew he might never see her again. He didn’t have to follow her very far; she sat on the loading dock, the violin case in her arms. Though he couldn’t hear her sob, he could tell from the way her shoulders shook that she was still crying.

  “Go away,” Renee said. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  He sat down beside her on the dock. She shook away his attempt to put a hand on her shoulder. “Renee, I’m sorry. But you knew this was coming. You knew the reason I came here—and why I have to go back.”

  “You don’t have to go back. You can stay here. With me.”

  “Renee—”

  She turned to face him and he saw the hope and longing in her eyes. He’d seen that look before in the mirror when he’d been with Sylvia. “We can use Daddy’s money and find somewhere quiet, where no one will ever look for us.”

  “Renee, please, you’re eleven. You’re still a child.”

  “I am not a child!” The tears in her eyes, the trembling lips, and the turquoise pigtails certainly made her look like a child. “I’m smarter than you are.”

  “That’s true,” Tim said. She was the smartest person next to Emma he’d e
ver met. “Then you should be smart enough to know we can’t be together. Not like that.”

  “Then I’ll go with you.”

  “We’ve been over that. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t care. Anything’s better than staying here without you.”

  “I know you don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t tell me this is just a stupid crush. It’s not!”

  That was exactly what Tim had been about to say to her. He wondered if Renee had ever felt like this about anyone else, or if he was the first one. “I’m sorry, but my friends need me.”

  “I need you too.”

  “No you don’t. You have Aggie and your father—”

  “Aggie and I won’t hardly see each other after this year.”

  “Then you’ll make new friends. Maybe friends as smart as you.”

  “I doubt that. No one’s going to want to be friends with the weird little kid.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes I do. Kids in college aren’t that much more mature than high school.”

  “Well, you’ve got me there.” Tim sighed. He wondered what he could say that might calm the little girl down. In the end he supposed there was nothing that would soothe the hurt, just as nothing anyone said could have soothed his hurt over Sylvia’s death. “Look, what you’re going through right now is just a phase. In a few years you’ll be a grown-up for real and whatever you want to do, you’re going to be the best at it. And then you’ll make all sorts of friends who will like you for who you are.”

  “You really think that?”

  “I know that.” He patted her shoulder and to his relief she didn’t shake him away. “I told you a little about my friend Emma, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. She’s really smart like me.”

  “Exactly. When she came home after college, she had just one friend. But eventually she made a whole new group of friends—including me and Sylvia and Aggie and Akako. She even met someone very special and made a baby with him.”

  “So you’re saying if I don’t give up all these good things will happen to me?”

  “Pretty much. You’re not going to be a kid forever. Someday you’ll be a grown woman. You just have to wait. Don’t try to rush things.”