The Power

by Cynthia Roberts

  Rushing from the elevator, Jack ran to his apartment door in hopes of finding a note pinned to the door, or perhaps slipped under it, but there was nothing on the door, and when he opened it, and turned on the light by the switch, there was nothing on the dark carpeting either.

  “Damn it!” he growled out loud, shifting a nervous hand through his thick hair. Where could she have gone? Damn it, Lilly! Why did you go out again? Kicking the back of his sofa, he cursed long and profusely when suddenly, a chill swept up his spine, and he knew that he wasn’t alone in the room. His heart beating swift in his chest, his amber gaze lifted upward to find a man standing there near the opposite end of Jack’s sofa. He was of average height, dressed in dark jeans and a dark, button down shirt. He was in good shape with pale, flawless skin, and bright blue eyes, with a shock of collar length, white hair falling straight on his head. He was young, young and too perfect to be human, Jack realized, and his heart took off in realization of what was standing before him. God, earlier tonight he had sworn that Dr. Harold was nuts, that there was no such damn things as vampires, but later, he had seen a vampire with his own eyes. He had witnessed things not humanly possible!

  “That was quite an impressive jump earlier, Jackson.” The man’s deep, cheerful voice filled the dead air in the room. Jack had trouble finding his voice. Was this shit really happening? It was like he was suddenly a character in some horror movie he had seen or the star of his own nightmare.

  “Jump?” he asked, hearing the catch in his voice, and hating it. Carefully, his hand began to lift toward the gun just beneath his jacket in a shoulder holster. If he could just get to it…

  “I wouldn’t do that, Jackson. It would just piss me off.” The vampire warned with an amused grin, and a twinkle in his eye. Jack’s hand stilled.

  “My name isn’t Jackson.” he corrected, as his fear-heightened gaze glanced around him for some sort of a weapon that he could get to faster than he could his gun if it came down to it.

  “Oh? I beg to differ.” the vampire chuckled in amusement. Jackson, Jack wondered at the name for a moment, when suddenly Lilly’s story of her great, great, great grandmother came back to his mind. Jax, he thought in dawning, and the vampire before him grinned.

  “Is it starting to come together for you now, Jax?” the vampire cocked his white-framed head to a side, and then his white hands were scooping up a baseball Jack had had sitting beside his sofa, and began to toss it from one hand to the other.

  “What do you want?” Jack snapped, starting to get pissed off himself.

  “What don’t I want?” Whitey, as Jack was coming to think of this creature, tilted his head to a side in curious wonder. The ball paused in his right hand. “As I recall, the last I saw of you you’re feet were kicking in the air, dangling in thin air just before Ewan dropped your ass into the ocean.” Whitey laughed out. “We took bets on how many hours you would last out there, ya know? Would you drown from exhaustion? Would the sharks make a meal of you?”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.” Jack tried backing to the door, but the vampire or whatever the hell this thing was standing before him, shook a long, white finger at him as if to say, “No. No.”

  “No. I never forget a face, and I’ve seen yours before, my friend.” he laughed out. “You really pissed Ewan off tonight, you know, seeing you with his Lillian again, after all of these years.”

  “Lilly? What have you done with her?” Jack jumped forward at her name. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it was connected. Somehow, it was all connected.

  “Quite simple really, we beat the living shit out of her! You should have been there to see the look on her face when the two by four caught her in the chest. You see, she was so distracted, too distracted by worries for you I presume, that she didn’t sense us there, didn‘t suspect a thing until WHAM!” he laughed out in delight as he made a batting motion with his arms.

  Jack leapt at the man, going for his white throat, but the man was quick, quicker than anything Jack had ever seen before in his life! A hand shot out, catching Jack around the throat instead, and sending him slamming back into the wall. The man leaned into Jack then, his face pressed toward Jack so that Jack could make out the tiny blue veins beneath the near-translucent skin.

  “What did you do with her? If you’ve hurt her-” Jack warned.

  “You’ll what? Kick your mortal legs about some more!” The slight English accent echoed in the man’s taunting words. Mortal? He had said mortal, hadn’t he, Jack swallowed uncomfortably? “Don’t worry so, Jackson. You’ll find that sweet Lillian is a very quick healer. She should be right as rain when night falls again.” he laughed at his own words, but Jack didn’t see what was so funny. The man was insane! He dropped Jack back to the floor and backed away.

  “Look at you.” Those blue eyes lit on Jack in disgust, and Jack could only stare back as the eyes so bright a blue suddenly faded, and began to lose color until all Jack could see was glowing white. Sucking in his breath, Jack made a b-line for the door, but the creature came at him again, hitting him hard in the chest, and sending him flying backward. Jack reached for his gun, but it was gone. Looking up sharply, he saw the Nine in the creature’s pale hand.

  “Looking for this?” It asked with a grin. “You puny, insignificant, human!” It raged now. “You’re always in the way, always taking what does not belong to you! She is his now! She always was!”

  “The hell she is!” Jack growled defiantly, and he climbed unsteadily back to his feet. The creature stared at him in pure hatred with those white, glowing eyes, and it was all Jack could do to stand there and face it. Never in his life had he ever thought that something like this could possibly exist. Vampires weren’t supposed to be real! They were stories told at Halloween parties. They were fiction made up for books, movies, and television! They weren’t supposed to be standing in the middle of his goddamn living room! They had Lilly, and Jack would be damned if he allowed them to keep her! What did they want with her anyway? Suddenly, he was remembering the scene from earlier that morning, the decapitated, severed bodies, the buckets of blood. His eyes shot upward in fear like he had never known. “Where is she?” he demanded loudly, and the creature promptly threw his head back, and let out a loud, cruel laugh.

  “Poor Jackson. She didn’t tell you the truth this time around, now did she?” He reached behind him, and Jack worried that he was about to be shot, but what the creature brought forth in his pale as death hand was an old, weathered, brown, leather-bound book.

  “What is that?” Jack stepped forward, ready to do anything that he possibly could even if it meant dying to save her.

  “Just read, Jackson. Read your darling Lilly’s words. She really did love you, you know? I imagine she still does. We solved that problem once before. We’ll do so again.” The creature stepped forward, holding out what Jack now knew to be a journal. Lilly’s journal? “I’d like to kill you now. I can taste it. I want it so bad, Jackson, so very bad.” The creature suddenly was right on him, his mouth skimming Jack’s sensitive neck. Jack tried to lean back away from it, but a hand shot out grabbing him by the back of his head. Pulling Jack forward with unnatural strength, Jack felt the wet tongue of the creature slip up his neck. Infuriated, Jack grabbed the creature by the front of his shirt, and shoved it backward. The creature laughed in amusement. “Don’t worry though. You may live.” It said, and bowed regally before him. “For now.” it added threateningly, and then it backed toward the front door. Jack watched as the creature bent low, laying both the journal and Jack’s gun on the carpet by the front door. “He wants you to read the truth about her before you die. When you’re finished, if you still find that you can‘t live without her,” It paused there to insert an amused laugh. “Tomorrow night, meet us at 116 W. March street. It’s a…”

  “Warehouse.” Jack supplied.

  “Clever boy.” The creature grinned. “Come alo
ne, and tell no one, Jack. We will know if you do not. Come alone or sweet Lilly perishes once and for all.” That said, the creature turned, and left Jack standing there in shell-shock. What the hell had just happened? Jack exhaled his pent up breath. He leaned forward, hands on his knees and breathed in deep as his mind tumbled in so many jumbled thoughts and worries, thoughts of worry and fear for Lilly, thoughts of impossible things that he knew shouldn’t exist, but somehow still did, thoughts of Dr. Harold, a mad woman who had turned out not to be so mad after all, and thoughts of earlier that night when the other creature, the female, had saved his life. Why had she done that? He didn’t understand! His amber gaze dropped to the brown, leather-bound journal on the floor, and he swallowed the lump that had lodged in his throat. The creature, the man, had suggested that the journal belonged to Lilly, that the other, this Ewan, Jack presumed, wanted Jack to know the truth at last. Jack stared long and hard at the journal. He had wanted to know everything about Lilly Saint Rose, had been hurt that she had not trusted him enough to just spit it out, whatever it was, long ago, but now, staring at the journal, he wasn’t so sure that he wanted to hear or rather read anything anymore.

  Chapter thirty-three

  As soon as the creature, the one that wasn’t supposed to exist, had exited through the front door, Jack closed and locked it and all the windows, but he still did not feel secure.

  Now, sitting in a corner of his bedroom, he had taken the journal and let his back slide down along the wall until he was seated in the floor. Staring down at the leather-bound book as if it held the secrets to his demise, Jack hesitated. Inside, he knew lay the truth concerning Lilly Saint Rose. At last everything she had tried so hard to keep apart from him was his to be known, but he could not help but to feel as if he were about to invade her most private thoughts. His heart slammed hard against his ribs in indecision. They had her! The creature had told Jack that they had Lilly, and that they had, quote, “Beaten the shit out of her.”

  She was somewhere out there, hurt, alone, and afraid, and all that he could do was sit there with a journal that he should not possess in his grasp and wait. They had told him to tell no one, to bring no one. He would have to go in there alone, and he would have to wait until tomorrow night to do so! Rushing a large hand through the top of his thick hair, Jack groaned out loud in deep frustration and fear. Lilly, he thought in agony. Lilly, I’ll come for you, he promised! I’ll get you out of there! I don’t know how I’ll accomplish it, but I promise you I will!

  His knuckles were turning white around the journal. They had left it there for him to read. This Ewan Derringer wanted Jack to read it; he had said that it was so Jack would learn the truth about Lilly once and for all. The truth? The truth was waiting like a man with an ax ready to cut and slice what Jack and Lilly shared to shreds. Jack could feel that like doom lingering just over his shoulder. His breathing hitched. God, he loved her! He loved her still! Even now, even knowing that she was somehow connected with all of this. There was no other way, Jack decided. Slowly, he peeled back the cover of the journal, and his searching amber gaze rested on the top, yellowed page of the ancient journal.

  “Lillian Saint Rose.” he read aloud, and he swallowed the new emotions of rage and betrayal that were starting to form in his throat. This journal was too old to belong to a woman in her mere twenties. He had realized that before he had even opened the cover. That only left one possibility.

  “Do you really want to know, Jack?” he recalled Lilly’s serious tone from the other night when he had asked her of her age. “I’m one hundred and eighty-six years old.” she had told him with a stone serious expression, and he had thought that she was pulling his leg, and had promptly burst into laughter.

  “Good one.” he had complimented, but she hadn’t laughed. She hadn’t laughed because she had been telling him the truth! She had told him all along that there was something that she needed to tell him, but dumbly he had suspected that what she had to share with him had to do with the night she had been raped! Regaining control, Jack stared at the neatly scripted name. Beautiful hand-writing, he admired as his gaze slipped beneath her name to the date that read, “November fourteenth, 1842”.

  Seeing the date written there, the month, the day, the goddamned year, Jack inhaled sharply. Silently, he counted back in his head. It took him just a few minutes to realize that if Lilly had been telling him the truth about her age then she would have been around eighteen years old when this journal had been written. His breathing hitched. His heart assaulted his ribs with hard fists of tormented beats. His furious gaze returned to the journal and he began to take it all in.

  “London, England 1842”

  “My story is of length. It begins many years ago when I was what I was, a youthful maid to a lovely young Lady. The story begins in England, in London to be precise. I grew up there in a town home assisting to Widow Winters, a scandalous woman raising her three, equally scandalous daughters.”

  Engrossed in Lilly’s descriptive writing written in the words of a young English woman in the year 1842, Jack laid the journal on his bent knees, and leaned over to read. He could feel Lilly’s pain when her cousin had been taken from her, married off to a lecher of a man. He could see it all happening in his mind’s eye as his amber gaze trailed over the pretty script along the pages. He could see Lilly, sick, raging with fever in a bed beneath the stairs in a cold, damp room. He could see her fevered face, so young, so ill, and then he could see the dark creature that had lounged in the window of her room that night.

  “My name is Gina Giovani.” the creature had told her, and Jack had sucked in his breath.

  “Gina.” He said aloud. He had met her, Lilly’ s dark mother, as the creature had called herself back then when she had introduced herself to Lilly.

  Jack’s eyes continued to pour over Lilly’s words, becoming lost in the emotions she had felt within the moment as each event had taken place in her would be life. He was there with her when she had sat at the massive dinner table in her provider’s home. He had heard her aunt’s hated words as they had come to Lilly’s mind, as the greedy, evil woman had spoken the truth at last concerning who Lilly really was, and also confessing to the murders of Lilly’s family. He had felt Lilly’s rage, had felt it consume him as it must have consumed her at the time. He had wanted the aunt’s blood as much as he was sure Lilly had, but Lilly had actually taken it!

  Unnerved, he sat there, clasping the journal tighter within his grasp as he read of her plight as she had run for the window at the sound of Gina’s urgent, prompting voice in her mind, how she had run without stopping and jumped, falling swiftly to the earth below, only to land unscathed on her feet, without a clue to how she had done so. Jack lifted his gaze, and suddenly, he knew what he had probably known somewhere within him since it had happened. He could see her now, standing there on the rooftop. Her back had been to him, her long pale hair blowing gently in the breeze as she had lifted her hands above her head as he had instructed her to do so. And then, he could see her as she had run from him so fast that it had been a blur to his eyes. Astonished, he had watched her leap into midair and seemingly fly from one rooftop to the next. Well if she can do it, so can I, Jack had mused in an adrenaline infused moment, and he had run so fast to the ledge and over before he could fully think it through, but he wasn’t going to make it, he had realized as he felt himself start to fall Then he had felt it, the slamming force of her body as she had rocketed herself into his chest, sending them both flying back up on to the original roof they had started on. The breath knocked from his body in a loud gasp. His shoulder throbbing in pain, he had reached out to grab her, but she was too fast. Rolling forward, out of his grasp and away from him, she had run. He was able to turn his gaze just enough to see her take a running leap off of the building in the opposite direction, and then he had found the strength to stand, to limp to the edge of the building where she had gone off. He had still halfway expected to find her on the pavement below as flat
as a pancake, but what he did see, caused his breath to hitch in shock even now. She had been crouched on her booted feet, having landed that way on the pavement below, and then she had stood, unharmed, and run off as if she had not just plunged five stories, as if she had simply stepped off of a curb into a street!

  It had been Lilly, he realized that now. She had been the one he had been looking for all along! The female vampire! She had taken the lives of Arthur Miller, of Bobby Williams, and of David and Jerry, the hopped up rapists in the bedroom of Helen Rogers’ apartment that night. He had chased her once before, watching as she had jumped from one rooftop to the next, as he had run below, but when he had reached the street she had been gone without a trace. She was a killer! She drank the blood of human beings!

  Jack slammed the journal shut, and threw it with a great force across the room. He stood in one furious movement, and sent an enraged fist into his bedroom wall. The plaster caved, leaving a hole double the size of his fist there in the wall. Plaster and dust crumbled to the carpet. He had been looking for her all along, feeling like such a damn fool because there had never been any clues, any damned evidence left at any of the scenes! She had known! She had fucking known all along that she was the one he had been searching for! Had she had a good laugh at his expense? She had led him around by the nose! He had told her that he loved her! He had made love to her! Hell, he had practically asked her to marry him! The curses flew from him now, penetrating the room in loud shouts of denial. He overturned his dresser in a fit of rage, and drawers broke, clothes tumbling out. He stared unsatisfied, his chest heaving at the mess he had made. It wasn’t enough, he was thinking when his amber gaze came again to the journal, lying in a tumbled mess, upside down next to the foot of his bed. Growling like a caged animal, he reluctantly snatched the damn thing back up into his hands, and crouched back down in his corner. “You owe me the truth, Lilly!” He growled out. “You owe me the fucking truth!”