Vampire Dating Agency II

by Rosette Bolter

  VAMPIRE DATING AGENCY II

  ROSETTE BOLTER

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Bright, artificial lights lit up the insides of the national state park. Of course, the light could only stretch so far. Twenty-four hours prior to the events taking inside Vampire Dating Agency, Madame Arianne Nightshade was still alive and making her way through the clear visible pathways. Her gaze shifted occasionally, moving off track and into the surrounding areas of darkness. There was no question she was being watched. The question was who was watching her, and why.

  The sound of a stick breaking, and a scampering of feet.

  Madame Nightshade stopped.

  Her curious eyes peered into the right of her, trying to make out if someone was there. She couldn’t see anyone.

  The phone in her pocket buzzed. One new message.

  Keep walking, Arianne. Turn left at the next junction.

  An image of the bench was sent to her.

  She put the phone away and continued onward, following the pathway as directed.

  The bench was soon in her line of sight. She could see it easily as one of the light posts was hanging just above it.

  There was no sign of the person she was supposed to be meeting here. But of course, they had to be somewhere nearby…

  Her steps became slower as the bench became closer. All sounds, all impressions, all fluctuations in the air – the vampiress observed all. She couldn’t detect anything that would indicate an ambush. But perhaps all that was needed –

  The phone was ringing.

  She answered it.

  “Keeping going, Arianne,” a deep voice commanded. “Sit down on the bench. I will show you where I am.”

  They were using a synthesizer to disguise themselves.

  Madame Nightshade reluctantly moved towards the bench and sat down. She raised the phone to her lips. “Where are you?”

  “Lift your head, and turn to your left. Look down the rest of the path until you reach the main road. I’m standing at the end of it.”

  Madame Nightshade’s gaze followed the path until she reached the outline of a figure standing near the road.

  They weren’t moving.

  They were facing her directly.

  “Are you coming over?”

  “No,” the voice on the phone replied. “We’re going to work from here.”

  “You said you had something for me?”

  “Put your hand underneath the bench. There’s something taped there for you.”

  Madame Nightshade stood up and then got onto her knees so to duck underneath the bench. After a moment of fumbling she managed to pull off a small flash drive.

  She inspected it briefly then sat back down.

  “What’s on this?”

  “Information about the Paranormal Police. Addresses, locations, profiles, investigations, everything you wanted to know about them and more.”

  “Supposing that’s what’s on there…” Madame Nightshade began. “What do you expect me to do with this?”

  “They’re coming after you. The entire VDA. At the moment they’re planning on sending in a new undercover that will give you all sorts of headaches. But that’s just the beginning. Their end game is to wipe vampires completely from the face of existence.”

  “Well, thank you. I will look at the information here and see what is of use to us. Is there something you want from us now? For yourself?”

  Silence.

  Madame Nightshade peered out to where the figure was.

  They still hadn’t moved yet.

  “I just want to see those fuckers burn…”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Junk. Piles and piles of it. The desk had been tipped over and was broken apart in certain places. Its contents lay spread out around it in a half-circle ring. A lamp that had been sitting on the desk was now hiding somewhere underneath the rubble. It was still on, a beam of light shooting out a distort shape to the back wall. The room was otherwise dark.

  The door opened slowly. A large, ominous figure was standing there – his eyes burning with fierce red light. The news had already been handed down. This was not a discovery. It was a confirmation.

  The figure took a three small steps into the room. Green eyes and claws in cages began to retreat in fear. In between two cushioned cylinders in the centre of the room, a lifeless body lay face up towards him.

  The figure remained there for a moment. His shoulders broad and still. His dark hair paused.

  He snapped his fingers.

  The guard behind him quickly hurried in. “Yes, Master?”

  “Your radio.”

  The guard pulled it off his jacket and handed it over.

  “Good evening, team,” the Count rasped. “This is your Master speaking. It has come to my attention that we have at least one intruder present. Her name is Haley Watkins. You are to find her and bring her to me at once. Use everything at your disposal. I will be waiting … on the roof…”

  The radio fell from his grasp.

  The guard hastily pulled it back up and attached it to his shirt.

  “Madame Nightshade’s coffin is in the underground dungeon,” the Count said. “Fetch whoever you need to help. Her body is to be returned to it as soon as possible.”

  He turned slowly and began to retrace his steps out of the room.

  “Master?” the guard said as he neared the doorway.

  The Count turned. “What is it?”

  “Madame Nightshade. She has something stuck in her hand.”

  The Count walked back to his daughter’s body. He knelt down and took her hand, unraveling her fingers.

  A USB drive dropped to the floor.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Which of you was it who killed my beloved daughter, Arianne?”

  The moment had frozen.

  Haley’s eyes shifted towards Jason, aware there was no air in her lungs. No blood pumping through her heart.

  The rain dived and fell through each of them, as though they too were made of water. Their skin was bleached and numb. Their insides drowned to endless depths.

  “Who…?” Haley whispered.

  “Madame Nightshade,” the Count answered. “She was my daughter, and she was found murdered with a stake through her heart.”

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said. “It wasn’t us.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I…” Haley trembled. “It was me. I killed her.”

  “Haley!” Jason scolded.

  “As I thought. Your friend may go.”

  “Who?” Jason demanded. “Me?”

  “Unless you wish to die.”

  “You can’t expect to just walk off and let you –”

  “So be it.”

  In the blink of an eye, a long metallic bar shot out of the Count’s hand. He used it like a pole vault and ascended into the air above them. A second bar then shot out of his other hand and he slammed it into Jason, knocking him off his feet, and flying towards the shadowy edges of the roof.

  “No!” Haley screamed.

  He went over.

  “You bastard!”

  The bars retracted and the Count landed with a huge boom in front of her. He lashed out at her with his claws, his lips twisted and salivating. Haley swung around maneuvering herself from his attacks. She forced her heel towards his knee, trying to disable him, but the Count was fast enough to catch it in time. He lifted her off the ground and tossed her several feet into the air.

  Haley landed in a painful huddle, having littl
e more than a moment to collect herself before the vampire was on her once again.

  As he lunged for her throat, she jammed her fist into his stomach, which knocked him back.

  She forced herself across the wet ground and then made it back to her feet, just as he was upon her again. She blocked his first strike, and then his second, but then his claws broke free and seeped into her jugular. He ripped the flesh away, blood spilling everywhere.

  Haley looked up, falling over again, the Count’s mouth wide open, reaching to bite her.

  Then a dark figure charged at him, forcing him away from her.

  Haley steadied herself and saw with some relief that Jason had made his way back onto the roof.

  Two heavy, metal bars extended from the Count’s sleeves, and he swung them wildly at Jason who was fighting him barehanded.

  Haley put her hand to her neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. She staggered over towards them, as the fight continued, neither yet beaten.

  The Count’s bar then slammed into Jason knocking him back to the ground. The Count looked at her with a sneering grin, as he raised the bar over Jason’s head, about to strike.

  “Argh!” Jason roared before the Count got to him, charging his full body back into the Count’s stomach.

  The Count stumbled back and fell off the roof’s edge.

  “Fuck!” Jason shouted, getting to feet. “Fuck! You!”

  He threw the bar over as well.

  “Come on,” Haley said hurrying over to him. She grabbed his arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brock’s fingers lightly pressed against the ladder’s edge. He was testing it for warmth. For vibrations. His eyes shifted up towards the closed hatch, feeling the night beyond it.

  He let go.

  At the sound of panicked voices moving closer, Brock walked back out into the corridor where he had fought and defeated the two men guarding the door. He looked left, and then right. The coast was clear.

  “Brock!” Haley squealed, running at him from behind. “You’ve got to help us!”

  Brock turned eyeing up Haley, and the young man standing behind her.

  “Are you nuts?” the man muttered to her. “He’s one of them.”

  “Our friends on the floor might feel otherwise,” Brock said directing their attention to the fallen guards. “I take it, it didn’t go too well up there.”

  “He knows I killed Madame Nightshade,” Haley answered. “She was apparently his daughter.”

  “Is he still up there?”

  “I pushed him off the edge,” the man declared. “But I doubt we’ve seen the last of him.”

  “I think I know a way out,” Brock said. “I suggest you follow me.”

  Brock’s gaze lingered a moment, then he set forth to the left of the corridor. Haley quickly followed behind him, and her companion reluctantly behind her.

  The corridor swung round to the right, and Brock went to a door near the end. He pressed his ear beside it before trying the handle.

  “Don’t make eye contact,” he advised.

  He then pushed open the door and the three of them slunk past a group of five or six vampires engaged in an orgy session with two women. Haley got caught up halfway through the room, staring at them like a deer in headlights.

  Brock looked back and grabbed her wrist jolting her forward.

  “They’re being murdered,” she hissed. “They need our help.”

  “It’s not murder if you have consent,” Brock hissed back.

  Haley tried to pull away from him. “Yes it is!”

  “Fucking keep moving,” the man behind her scolded, pushing her forward into Brock.

  One of the vampires looked up from the bloody scene to stare back at them. “Come join us. Don’t be shy.”

  A woman underneath him looked up, blood seeping from her lips. “Yes, please. Join us at once.”

  “Another time,” Brock asserted.

  He moved quickly towards a set of doors at the back of the room, which led out to a balcony. After making sure Haley and her friend had passed through, Brock directed them down a flight of stairs leading towards another balcony on the floor below them.

  “Keep going,” he urged them. “That’s it.”

  At the second floor balcony they ran towards the far end of the house where another set of steps led down to the back-garden. Once they hit the lawn, they started running.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was a rush. The combination of sensations had wrapped its way into Haley’s head to the point where she wasn’t sure she could untangle it. The Count’s image burned in her mind. First, his accusation. The horrible realization of what she’d done. She thought back to the confrontation with Madame Nightshade, examining the fight piece by piece. Moment by moment. If she had twisted or turned at a certain point … If she had dodged or ducked at the right time … There was a solution. A way she could have escaped the exchange alive without killing her assailant.

  But the cards hadn’t fallen that way.

  And it was just so easy.

  To kill.

  “Hold on,” Brock’s voice brimmed behind her. “Hold up.”

  They’d reached the edge of the forest. The sound of thunder burst around them, the rain covering each of them head to toe. Jason looked exhausted, wasted, pounded out to the fiber of his being.

  Brock looked sad. His ridiculous silly behavior crushed by reality.

  “You go it alone from here,” Brock said.

  “You’re going back there?” Haley asked.

  Brock nodded.

  “But why?”

  “I have to make it right with him,” Brock said. “Allowing you to escape is one thing. But to go with you would be the true betrayal.”

  “I don’t understand,” Haley said.

  “Are you guys gonna talk forever?” Jason demanded. “They know where we are.”

  “What?”

  “Look.”

  Haley turned back to the house.

  In the centre of the third floor balcony, a cluster of dark figures had gathered to stand there, staring out at them. Leaning forward in the centre was the Count, his unmistakable red eyes burning wildly through the atmosphere.

  “Are you sure you want to go back?” Haley asked.

  “Even more so now,” Brock said. “I don’t want that thing coming after me.”

  “So you’ll walk right into his trap?”

  Jason stood between them. “Why is he just standing there? What is going on?”

  “The Count’s actions aren’t warped by emotion,” Brock explained. “Everything has been articulated. Deliberate.”

  “I don’t know,” Jason said. “He seemed pretty pissed at us before.”

  “He’s not watching you,” Brock said. “He’s watching what I’m going to do.”

  “Well, that may be the case. Do we want to get out of here then?”

  Brock put his hands to Haley’s neck.

  “What are you doing?” Jason cried.

  He leaned in and kissed her.

  “I have a feeling, I’ll be seeing you again,” Brock said.

  “Be careful,” Haley whispered.

  Brock let go of her.

  He bowed his head and turned back to start walking towards the house.

  “We’ll talk about his later,” Jason muttered. “I suggest we get a move on.”

  Haley stepped backwards, walking away.

  Even with the imposing danger, she found it hard to take her eyes off Brock.

  She hoped his feeling would come true.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Nothing slowed down at dinner. Nothing got quieter. Even when the kids were sitting at the table, supposedly eating their food, things still got knocked around. Knives and spoons jumped from their places. Wine spilled from untouched glasses. Big fat hands wiped dirty cheeks and mouths, while the children’s heads moved uncontrollably as if their whole bodies were covered with fire. Before long Kendra was staring down at
the empty plates in front of her, not even being able to recall the memory of having eaten.

  “Jackson,” Peggy’s voice called shrilly. “If you do it again, Jackson, I swear we’re going home.”

  Footsteps, running around. The neighbor’s child was pulling at her hair and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Jackson!” Peggy shouted. “I’m counting to three –”

  Kendra’s elbow snapped back in reflex, knocking the kid off his feet.

  Peggy’s mouth dropped with horror. “Oh, Jackson!”

  The boy burst out crying.

  Peggy rushed over to comfort her son, while Kendra didn’t even bother to turn around. She sipped her wine.

  “Jesus,” Lawrence said, standing up. “Jesus, is he alright?”

  No reply.

  Peggy was too busy telling Jackson how wonderful he was.

  “Why’d you do that?” Lawrence asked.

  Kendra swallowed. “Do what?”

  “You just assaulted my child!” Peggy accused.

  Kendra stood up from her place and left the table empty handed.

  Seeing an opportunity, one of her own children rushed at her leg. “Mommy, can you please have a look at my –”

  “NOOO!” Kendra shouted in his face, sending her own boy to tears.

  Her husband verbalized his frustrations and surprise, taking hold of the boy to protect him from her.

  Kendra moved past them and went upstairs.

  She sat in her office for a while, listening to the voices downstairs. The children, still wild and frenzied. The adults, soft and intimate.

  Kendra supposed she should feel something. Perhaps she should break down, have her own cry about things. The dismantling of their family unit was not lost on her. The planets seemed to have lined up and sent all the blame her way. She wondered though, if she really was responsible.

  When she felt up to it, she returned back downstairs, all eyes on her as she walked confidently back to the front door.

  Perhaps, she thought, she should have tried harder.