The Power

by Cynthia Roberts

  “Kylie?” she called, and the little girl looked up with big, deer brown eyes. “Stay right here. I’ll be back shortly. If you need me, scream. I’ll hear you.” Lillian promised. That said, she went up the steps and straight through the front door of the apartment building. Inside the sadly furnished foyer, she walked to the elevator, and punched the button. Boarding the elevator, she rode to fifth floor and walked straight to apartment 5D, which was at the end of the hall.

  She didn’t bother to knock. She grabbed the doorknob, and shoved the door open so that the lock snapped in her hand. The door swung open, and Lillian walked in, shutting off the lights as she went from room to room, so that she might move through the shadows. Grunting noises were coming from the back bedroom, down a narrow hall. Lillian took a brass candle holder from the scarred coffee table, and breezed down the hall. When she reached the doorway to the room, she expertly threw the candle holder and shattered the light hanging from the ceiling in the bedroom. Glass shattered, and rained down upon the room’s three occupants as the darkness assaulted the room. Lillian’s vampire eyes took in everything as if it were as light as day. A skinny man with no shirt, and protruding ribs, stood at an old dresser to her left. He was going through a jewelry box on top of it when the lights went out. On the bed, another man had paused in laboring over a woman. He had something pressed to the woman’s throat. A knife? The woman was hurt, and terrified, but also high and disoriented, as were her two friends. Moving in, Lillian grabbed the man from atop of the woman by his shoulder, and slung him backward with a flick of her wrist, sending him slamming into the closet door and knocking him unconscious. The woman, now free, began to scream bloody murder. Lillian knew that the woman could not see what was going on, but Lillian could feel her fear, her pain, and her confusion. The man at the dresser turned at the noise, but he was too high to put two and two together.

  “What? What’s going on?” he asked of the room in a disoriented, trembling voice. Lillian tuned into his thoughts, and was not surprised by what she read there. He had already had his turn with the woman. A drug addict, he had robbed many people before. This was also not his first ill dealings with a woman. No. He had done this before, he and the other. They had broken into a well to do home in Manhattan. They had known that the husband would be out of town on business at the time. They had raped and killed a young mother, slitting her throat, and leaving an infant babe squalling in its crib as they had taken everything of value from the home.

  “Who are you?” The man’s pupils did not focus or dilate, Lillian noticed as she moved through the shadows, coming just close enough for the man to glimpse her glowing, white eyes. His heart was racing more from the heroine he had shot up than from fear.

  What if this young mother had not sent her child away, Lillian couldn’t help to wonder, and rage swept through her? Disgusted at the possibilities, she transformed in the blinking of an eye and pressed her face directly into the man’s.

  “I am what you deserve.” she replied as the woman on the bed began to scream in horror all over again.

  The prey was easy to catch this night, and his blood satisfied the hunger inside of her like nothing else could. As the body dropped to the floor, the other man came to, and began to shout and curse madly. Grabbing him by the collar, Lillian slid his body up the wall at his back and sank her teeth into his giving neck. His fists pounded into her back, but his strength slipped from him quickly. Lillian tossed his body aside as well. Kylie’s mother was too terrified to scream now when the silence dominated the darkness. She sat paralyzed in fear, wondering if she was next and thinking that she deserved to die. All of her sins came racing to her mind, and Lillian took them all in.

  “Please.” The woman begged on a whimper as Lillian slipped in and out of the shadows just enough to get the woman’s attention. “Please, don’t hurt me.” the trembling, pleading voice came.

  The fury Lillian felt toward the foolish woman was difficult to keep under control. The woman had been given a wonderful gift in her daughter, and the foolish woman had put that daughter in jeopardy on a daily basis so that she might satisfy a reckless hobby! She was no mother! She cared only for herself, not the child!

  “You do realize that what happened to you here tonight could have very well happened to your daughter as well?” Lillian bit out on a growl.

  “My daughter…Kylie? What have you done with my daughter?” The woman shrieked, almost sounding as if she cared for the child. Lillian had to laugh.

  “Your daughter? I am more of a mother to the little girl than you, her true mother, have been! I have watched over her while you have sent her out in the dark of night alone so that you might get yourself high! I have kept the child safe, even from you!” Lillian spit out furiously as she continued to slip in and out of the shadows, listening to the terrified beats of the woman’s heart as it sped up each time Lillian’s shadow appeared to her. “Others of my kind, and they are out there, would have devoured the child without blinking!”

  “Your kind? What are you? What do you want?” The woman was shaking violently now. Lillian slipped through the shadows, coming dangerously close to the bed. She could feel the woman’s terror, hear her rapid heartbeats, but she could also feel the fear the woman possessed for her child. Lillian could only hope that it was enough. She knew what she must do. It was the only way. She moved in the shadows, a blur from here to there with unnatural speed that caused the woman’s fear to intensify.

  “What am I, you ask?” Lillian threw the words into the woman’s mind over and over again like an echo in the night. Then with lightening speed, she swept to the foot of the bed, and leaned in dangerously close to reveal her transformed face. Her white, demon eyes, peeled back nose, and protruding fangs were now clear to the horrified woman, whose heart very nearly stopped at the sight of them.

  “I am the devil!” Lillian hissed, giving time for her terrifying proclamation to sink in. “Get off the drugs. Get yourself clean, and take care of your daughter, or I’ll be back.” Lillian opened her mouth, snarling like she had never done before for effect. “I’ll be back for your soul.” she warned, and she stepped back into the shadows so quickly that to the terrified woman, it was as if the devil had suddenly disappeared.

  Just then a loud knocking came on the front door. “Open up! Police!” A man yelled through the door. The woman began to sob loudly in relief as she hugged her arms to herself, and rocked back and forth.

  With nowhere to go as the pounding continued on the front door, Lillian hurried to the window, and climbed out onto the fire escape.

  “Look! There!” A man shouted from below. Lillian glanced down to see two men in uniform on their way up the iron ladder. Climbing onto the railing, she leapt outward and caught the edge of the building, scaling her way to the roof.

  “Holy shit!” One of the men below shouted just as Lillian reached the rooftop, and made one final leap to land crouched on the ledge. Running the width of the rooftop she dared to look down at the front of the building where she had left the child on the stoop. But, what she saw there caused her to reel back in alarm. “Jack!” she whispered just as his amber gaze shot upward.

  “No!” she hissed, and turning she ran the length of the rooftop, feeling Jack’s gaze burn into her as she leapt from one rooftop to the next. He was running, running below to catch up with her while she ran above, making one leap after another. He was fast and strong, but the fresh blood she had just devoured had given her unnatural strength, and she was able to run faster and harder. When she was far enough ahead, she leapt downward from balcony to balcony until she reached the street below. Her sudden appearance caused the people in the crowd to shriek and gasp, but she paid them no heed. She moved swiftly, darting through the crowd until she could no longer sense Jack’s presence. Running, she left Jack and the crowd far behind.

  Panting and out of breath, Jack finally gave up the chase. How could someone run so fast for so long? Was the woman on drugs? Yes, he now knew that
he was in fact, dealing with a woman. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face, but he had caught a flash of long, blonde hair of her shapely legs as she had leapt from one rooftop to the next. Jesus Christ! Those jumps! How had she managed that distance? It was damn near impossible!

  Bordello came to a skidding stop beside Jack, and the man fell to the ground on his haunches. Jack listened as Bordello huffed and heaved to find his breath. He wasn’t doing much better himself, Jack thought as his chest heaved from lack of oxygen.

  “What the hell?” Bordello finally managed to get out words.

  Jack looked down at the man. “I guess we aren’t heading home tonight after all.” he said in a disgruntled tone, and he motioned for Bordello to follow him back to the apartment building. They had been driving by earlier when they had noticed the little girl sitting outside all alone. They had opted to stop and check on the child, worried for her safety, and had barely gotten out of the car when a squad car came racing to the curb, and two uniforms had dashed through the apartment’s front doors.

  Bordello waved his hand at Jack now, as if to say he’d be there in a minute, so Jack gave him time to recover. Bordello caught up with Jack within seconds however, and they walked in silence to regain their breath on their return to the apartment building.

  When they arrived back on the scene, all hell had broken loose. Four squad cars were now parked haphazardly along the curb. An ambulance was there, lights flashing as well. A cop had taken off his jacket and placed it around the child’s thin shoulders. Uniforms were in and out of the building, and spectators were beginning to gather. Jack and Bordello pulled their badges and dashed up the stairs, following the other uniforms to the fifth floor. At the end of the hall, Jack nodded to the busted doorframe of apartment 5D. Bordello’s dark gaze followed Jack’s, and he nodded that he understood what had happened there as well.

  “She came in through the front door.” Bordello said in surprise.

  “Looks that way.” Jack replied as a woman’s crazed scream lit up the air.

  “No! It was the devil! Do you hear me? She said she was the devil!” The terror in the woman’s voice was almost physical. Jack followed the screams to the back bedroom, where he instantly took in the two dead bodies on the floor.

  “You need to calm down, ma’am.” a paramedic was easing his way to the frightened woman as another paramedic crept up from the opposite direction. They pounced on three and delivered a sedative to the frantic woman‘s left arm. The woman went down with little struggling, and then she went out like a light. There wasn’t much light in the room, just the light from the hall, Jack noticed. The darkness had probably helped the other paramedic to slip in behind the frightened woman.

  Jack and Bordello waited until the woman was carried from the room on a stretcher, and then they ordered everyone else out. Taking a flashlight from a uniform, Bordello began to flash it around the room. Jack noticed the shattered glass from the broken light bulb shattered in tiny shards across the dingy, green carpeting. The bed was a mess of tangled blankets and splatters of blood here and there. The dresser top looked as if someone had gone through its contents and left everything scattered about. A large knife lay at the foot of the bed with blood lining the blade. One man lay rumpled in an almost sitting position next to the closet door. The other man was lying face down on the carpet next to the dresser. So many uniforms had been in and out of the room, Jack thought furiously. If the crime scene hadn’t been compromised, it would be a miracle. Jack turned, just in time to see Bordello crouching down next to the dead man by the closet. Jack watched intensely as Bordello took his pen, and tilted the man’s head to a side. The glowing light from the flashlight burned into the puncture wounds that Jack had known all along would be there.

  Chapter twelve

  The dream was strange. Daylight burned against her eyes, and frightened her, though she knew that she was only dreaming. She had not seen the sun other than through photographs, television or motion pictures in such a very long time. She knew that it could not hurt her, not here in her dream state, but the strangeness of the warmth that she seemed to feel physically against her skin caused the natural fear to arise within her all the same. Her mind wandered, taking her through the city as daylight burned in bright patches against the mirrored, tiled, outside walls of skyscrapers and in storefront windows. Sidewalks stretched out before her, but she could only see patches of the concrete due to the many mortals that packed them, hustling and bustling to and from various jobs and other such places. Seeing the museum, standing tall and proud like a castle of old, with the sun streaking its many windows was something Lillian had never seen before. The breeze was warmed from the sun, exciting, but terrifying at the same time. Her mind led her traveling once more past many more buildings, growing lesser and lesser in height until it brought her to a well-kept, bricked apartment building with twelve stories of black iron balconies.

  Her eyes traveled upward, searching for what, she did not know, passing balcony after balcony until she reached the seventh floor. Her eyes rested on a balcony with only a mangled-looking lawn chair and a metal side table with a half empty bottle of beer atop it. She took in everything. The glass balcony doors were shut and locked, but somehow she was able to walk right through the glass, and then suddenly, she was inside the bedroom of Jack Stone. He lay shirtless on the bed. His skin bronzed and tight over the hard muscles in his back. The belt and the buttons of his jeans were loosened as if he had snapped them open before falling into the bed in exhaustion. His dark blonde hair was messed, his face angled away from her and his feet bare. She could hear the slow beat of his sleep-eased heart as she listened to his gentle breathing.

  “Jack.” She whispered to his mind, and he lay there, not moving, still fast asleep. Glancing around the room, she saw a photograph of Jack and another man, laughing and smiling with their arms around each other’s shoulders. A dark dresser set against the far wall with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt folded on top. The closet door was slightly open, revealing more clothes on hangers and a few boxes on the shelves above. Some boots and shoes were scattered on the tan, carpeted floor.

  The blankets that Jack lay atop were a dark, navy blue, the pillows a shocking white. Lillian moved closer. She was tempted to lower her hand, to stroke the warm skin of Jack’s back with the edges of her fingertips. Her eyes traveled over every muscle, every line in slow appreciation. “Jack.” she whispered to his mind once more, and seeming to have heard her, he muttered her name in return, and turned to his side. His handsomely angled face turned toward her. His full, bronzed lips were parted slightly, and she could see him breathe. The temptation was too great. She reached down and gently touched his jaw with the tender stroke of her hand.

  “Lilly.” He mumbled, and then his amber eyes slit open, and he smiled.

  Jack woke with a start. He had been dreaming of her again, of Lillian Saint Rose. He hadn’t seen the woman in over a week, and yet she still dominated his mind even through all of the hell the city was going through. Jack lay there a moment, her face lingering in his mind. He closed his eyes, and savored the moment. He had come home to catch a few hours of sleep before heading back into the station. He and Bordello were going to visit Miss Helen Rogers at Saint Mary’s hospital. They had wanted to give her enough time to calm down after the traumatic events of the night before. The child, Miss Roger’s eight year old daughter, Kylie, had been taken in by Social Services. Jack hated that for the kid, but what could he do? The mother was a hophead, a heroine addict, and maybe Schizophrenic as well. They would find out soon enough, he thought in deep regret. He had seen it a million times, it seemed. Kids were lost to the foster system more often than not when taken away from drug-addicted parents. Once an addict, always an addict. Only a precious few in this part of the city ever got sober enough to reclaim their children. Most didn’t give a shit about the kids in the first place, having had those very same kids unfortunately as a mistake.

  Dr. Harold had come for th
e bodies of the two newest victims a few hours ago, and the woman had looked at Jack pointedly as if saying, “I told you so!”

  Vampires? This was insane! There was no such damn things as vampires, but that thing last night had moved like something Jack had never seen before. Jack was still reeling from what he had seen, and from what others had told tale of witnessing as well! He and Bordello had jotted down the statements from the two officers who had been at the back of the building last night. Their stories were basically the same, having claimed to have seen the woman leap up onto the railing of the balcony above them and fly out to catch the wall, then shoot upward as fast as a bullet to disappear on the rooftop above. Jack was sure that that was an exaggeration, but could he doubt what he had seen with his own eyes? Jack rubbed his tired eyes. He could use a good ten hours of solid sleep, having only caught a few hours here and there amidst all this mess. But he knew that he couldn’t afford to sleep any longer. So shaking the useless thoughts from his mind, Jack stretched upward, and headed for the shower. He had dreamt Lilly had come to him last night, had watched him sleep. It had been, well, it had been nice.

  Dr. Harold stood in the examining room at the morgue. She was alone with just the bodies of the newest victims to keep her company. She had taken samples of the few drops of blood that had actually remained in the victims this time around, and had sent the blood off for analysis to the lab. She was sure it would come back positive for some sort of drug or another. Both men were near to skin and bones with substantial muscle loss. What teeth they had left in their heads were weak and rotted. Track marks ran up and down their arms, legs, and even in one man’s neck right next to the wounds from the incisors of what Nicole knew to be their female vampire.

  “Two at once. Quite impressive, Chicky.” she said, glancing from one body to the next. The woman they had taken to the hospital had been raped, or so Nicole had been told. It fit the profile, the evil-doers biting it by the hands, or rather the fangs of their female vampire. How did she do it, distinguish between them? How did she know which ones to kill? Did she study them? Did she follow them? Of course she did. That was the only logical answer, Nicole thought as she cut into the sternum of the second male, a young man who appeared to be around the age of forty, but probably was actually only in his twenties. Drugs did that to a body; at least the really bad ones did, caused premature aging.