Splinter Skill

by A C Bell

  “What are you doing up at this unholy hour?” she teased. I reached over to mess up her neat and shiny hair in revenge, but she leaned out of the way in a fit of giggles before any real damage could be done.

  “We have a surprise for you, Nikki,” Kat said as she began to braid her hair down her shoulder.

  “You do?” A knowing glint lit her eyes and she peered at me. “That’s why you’re awake. And Andrea Francis, you were stalling!”

  “Adeline’s planned a day of pampering for you.” Andie said. Confusion muddled Nikki’s features.

  “What for?” she asked. Andie, Kat, and I exchanged looks.

  “To get you ready for your anniversary with Justin tonight. Duh.” I said. Nikki’s face paled and she clamped her hands over her mouth.

  “You... forgot?” Kat asked.

  "This is bad." The metal legs of her chair scratched against the orange tile floor as she rose to her feet, shoving her hair nervously behind her ears. "So bad."

  "No, it's okay." I stood and gripped her shoulders comfortingly. "We'll get you all ready and you can pick up something for him at the mall, like a watch or something. He’ll never even suspect." After a few moments, Nikki took a deep breath and nodded, sitting back down to wait for Kat and I to eat. Seeing how anxious she was to get started, we ate as quickly as we could.

  ✽✽✽

  “Maybe I should have gone with the red one.” Nikki bit her lip, turning from side to side to view different angles of her sapphire blue chiffon dress in the long mirror on our door.

  “None of that,” I scolded. “You look amazing. Besides, he’ll be here in half an hour, so no do-overs. Now let me do your hair.”

  She padded barefoot to the desk chair and I got to work curling and clipping her flaxen hair into an elegant updo, letting some of the curls drape down her right shoulder. Once it was all up, I sprayed it to keep it in place and pinned half a dozen small fake blue rose buds into it. Altogether, she looked like a dignified winter duchess.

  “Just in time,” I said, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. As Nikki stood, a knock came at the door and her eyes bugged. She sprinted past me to put her heels on.

  “I’ll get it.” I pulled the door open and found Peter leaning against the frame, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark brown leather jacket.

  “Hey, do you guys—” He cut himself short when he looked behind me. Nikki walked toward the door, her clutch and Justin’s present in hand.

  “What?” She asked, noting his stare.

  “Whoa,” he said. Then he blinked away his surprise and shot me a grin. “Do Lady and the Tramp already have plans?” He gestured to my baggy sweater in comparison to her dress. I slugged him in the chest and Nikki laughed.

  “It’s my anniversary,” Nikki explained.

  “Ah,” Peter said. “Then, I guess you already have dinner plans. What about you? Want to head to the food court? They have a ‘special’ dessert table.” He added air quotes with his fingers.

  “What’s ‘special’ about it?” I mirrored his air quotes.

  “It’s got free black and yellow cupcakes and cookies to match our school colors for the game tomorrow.”

  “Count me in.” I grinned and grabbed my jacket.

  “I’ll walk down with you guys,” Nikki said. She and I linked arms and the three of us clumped into the lobby. Justin was pulling into a spot as we reached the parking lot, so Nikki cantered over, waving goodbye to us.

  ✽✽✽

  “So, that’s two years now?” Peter asked, pushing open the door of the food court. A chilly gust of air greeted us. On it wafted the scent of aspen, red cedar, and cigarette smoke from a pair of boys smoking along the wall. I wrinkled my nose at the acrid scent and Peter chuckled, holding the door for me.

  “Thanks. And yeah,” I said. He gave a ‘you’re welcome’ nod. As the door shut behind us, the sounds of scooting chairs and a symphony of voices disappeared inside. “They’re lucky,” I said. Puffs of air plumed from our mouths as the brisk Autumn air chilled my spine. We almost looked like a pair of smokers ourselves. I zipped up my leather jacket and its hug warmed me. “They’re the only people I know our age who’ve had a relationship last this long. It’s rare.”

  “Yeah, rare,” he said distractedly. His glance moved to a pair of doe-eyed freshmen strolling toward us. One girl tucked her blond hair behind her ear, passing him a shy smile. He returned it with a wide grin that showed nearly all thirty-two of his pearly whites. Her face flushed red. Once we passed them I laughed to myself. Something shiny caught my eye on the sidewalk up ahead. “Uh oh, I wonder if one of them dropped their phone,” I said picking up an iPhone bedazzled in the shape of a heart.

  “I’ll take it to them to check. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” Peter waved me off.

  “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.” I grinned, giving him an encouraging thumbs-up, and turned to head back to my room. I’d always enjoyed the campus at night. Without all of the students mulling about I was able to linger on the modern-Victorian architecture. In the light of the sawgrass-styled street lamps, the grounds reminded me of the old novels I loved so much. Getting as involved in my head as I do, I didn’t notice when someone approached me.

  A hand touched my shoulder. I instinctively snatched it in a tight grip and thrust my other elbow back into the person’s sternum. Then I gaped in horror at the man’s uniform. I’d just assaulted a police officer. The campus police officer stepped back and clasped a hand to his chest, stooping over to breathe.

  “I am so sorry!” I apologized profusely.

  He waved a dismissive hand as he caught his breath. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said as he straightened. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties and his short brown hair was just long enough that the ends had started to curl around his uniform hat.

  “I’m sorry, Officer...” I paused to read his name tag. “Hanlen. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “It’s alright.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What’s your name?”

  “Adeline Parker.” I pulled my student I.D. from a slot on my cell case for him. After a quick look, ne nodded.

  “I was just wondering if you wanted me to walk you to your dorm, Ms. Parker.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Why did the offer make me uncomfortable? “Oh, thank you, but I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

  “It’s along my route. I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you walk around by yourself this late. Who knows what kind of creeps you could run into.”

  An uneasy feeling in my gut nearly convinced me to protest again but I sternly reminded myself that he was one of the good guys, not just a random stranger. “Sure,” I said. A grin softened Hanlen’s stiff, angular face.

  “After you.” He walked at my side as I marched down the sidewalk. An awkward silence filled the air for most of the walk.

  “My dad was a cop,” I eventually said to break it.

  “Oh yeah?”

  I nodded. “A detective.”

  “Messy work. They see some of the worst humanity has to offer. I like it here, where my job is pretty much black and white. I get to keep people safe and go home with my sanity intact. Are you going to follow in his footsteps?”

  Guilt gnawed at my stomach. “I promised my mom I wouldn’t, but...”

  “It calls to you.”

  “Yeah.”

  The officer removed his hat and scratched his scalp through his short hair. I could see a ring of sweat on his forehead where the rim of the hat had pressed a line into it. There was a tense pause. “I take it he didn’t retire?” he asked cautiously. I shook my head and kept my glance down, grateful that we’d finally reached the parking lot of my dorm. He returned his hat to its rightful position on his head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  The officer continued his beat once I was safely inside. Up in my room, I turned on the bedside lamp and flo
pped onto my bed. With a sigh, I picked up the picture frame on my side of the nightstand and held it up. A younger version of my mom sat laughing on a wooden park bench next to a tall man with dark hair and a wide, blithe smile. Dad’s arm was draped over the back of the bench behind her shoulders. I could see one of his fingers discretely coiled in a tendril of Mom’s black hair.

  On half of each of their laps was six-year-old me in a red dress. This photoshoot had happened a few months before we lost him and I could still remember it. I’d spent most of it trying to hide behind them. Finally, they’d promised me some ice cream if I sat for a few pictures. When the photographer encouraged me to give a big smile, I’d given a grin so wide that it made me squint. I chuckled at the memory and set the frame back on the nightstand, then dressed for bed.

  It was still night when I woke, hearing sniffles. Confused, I sat up and saw a line of light under the bathroom door.

  “Nikki?” I called out groggily. I turned on the bedside lamp and trudged over to the door. “Nikki, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing. Sorry to wake you.”

  “It’s fine. Will you open the door?”

  After a pause, I heard the handle twist and the door slowly opened. Nikki leaned on the frame, her eyes and nose pink and puffy. My heart sank. “I left the receipt in the box. When he saw the date, I had to come clean.” Her voice was quiet and quivering as she tried not to cry. I hugged her protectively and she rested her head on my shoulder. Anger bubbled in my gut. Was Justin really so upset that she’d forgotten their anniversary that he’d made her cry? I would definitely have a word with him.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “But he knows you love him. One fight won’t keep him upset long.”

  “I hope not,” she said with a sniffle.

  ✽✽✽

  Nikki had theater practice all day on Sunday and I didn’t have to be at work until 4:00. My free time would give me the chance to start delving into Xavier’s mysterious journal. I hadn’t actually mentioned it to Nikki. The whole thing seemed a little too bizarre to bring up in casual conversation. I settled on my bed and propped the book open in front of me.

  After the first entry I deduced that Xavier Cahn had been a member of some group called the Vjesci, a strange cult-like religion of which I had never heard. He had been a member of one of four leading families, though they had not originally started out separated as they currently were in this journal. They were originally all from somewhere in Germany as one large group, but they had been unable to agree on how things should be run. Eventually, the four families decided to split and each member of the clan decided which family they would stand beside. One family relocated to Russia and renamed themselves the Tanikovs, another to Poland as the Roszaks, the third as the Cahns in England, and the Königs remained in Germany. The Tanikovs and Roszaks stayed away, but prosecutions in England drove the Cahns back to Germany about a century later.

  This is where Xavier’s story began. He and Ademar König had grown up as close friends and when they replaced their fathers as leaders of their families they were able to reunite their sects as one group. Though Xavier accepted Ademar as the official leader of this now large clan, Ademar always held Xavier’s input on matters as equal.

  What brief information I gathered on Xavier’s personal back-story was sad. His wife, Evangeline, had died giving birth to their only daughter, Kendra, who—in perspective of this journal—was now in her late teens. He wasn’t close with many people and apparently his inability to connect with others had been inherited by Kendra, whom he shared a detached relationship with.

  Culturally, the Vjesci seemed to act like a large family, whether actually related or not. Ademar considered everyone’s individual concerns and seemed like a fair leader. Their lives were built around community and working as a unit to survive. They held celebrations and ceremonies, that seemed pagan in nature, often. I paused here when Xavier mentioned something about a ceremony to join two people that involved “pure feeding”. Pure feeding? Whatever it was, it sounded ridiculous.

  Curious nonetheless, I pulled my laptop onto my lap and typed the phrase into a browser. The results assumed I’d made a typo and included entries for “pure breeders” and the first page of entries was filled with links to animal breeders. I had to advance several pages before the results seemed more relevant.

  Skimming down the list, I paused at the sight of the words “pure blood”. The website was written by a journalist about some modern occult group associated with vampirism. Not curious enough to read the entire article, I used the search tool to find what I was looking for and the screen scrolled down to a paragraph with the word “pure” in it.

  “Although members of this organization would not openly discuss this particular act with me, I managed to sneak into their ‘feeding room’ and learned through observation that each member partook in the drinking of the ‘pure blood’ of young, virgin members who volunteered to share. Perhaps this is believed to bring them spiritual enlightenment.”

  I stopped again. Vampires drinking the blood of a virgin? It sounded like a bad movie. Regardless, I shivered at the idea of anyone drinking someone else’s blood or anyone “volunteering” to give it. The article didn’t mention anything about Vjesci, but I eyed the journal. Was this really about some occult vampire group from the 1500’s? This aspect didn’t necessarily mean the journal wouldn’t be interesting, but it was definitely creepy. Particularly confusing was that nowhere had Xavier mentioned that they avoided the sun and hadn’t previously mentioned anything about blood. Maybe they didn’t want to believe they were vampires that badly. I set my laptop aside and pulled the book back in front of me.

  The next entry explained that Xavier was writing this journal to log his reports of the arrival of the estranged leader of the Tanikov Clan; Rurik Layton Tanikov. It seemed something terrible had happened to his clan. Rurik and his faction arrived by sea in the early hours of the morning, overburdened with grief. Their numbers were low and there were many injured among them, mostly consisting of burns. He claimed that a great number of their people had been slaughtered by hunters. They had fled for safety with their kin. Ademar and Xavier, of course, welcomed them with open arms, ready to help.

  Rurik struggled with the idea that he now held less power than Ademar and the two argued often. It seemed that, after everything he and his people had suffered, it was a slap to the face to have to follow another regarding what would happen to his people. Rurik’s behavior became increasingly ‘erratic’ over the next few months and tensions caused several families in the organization to leave altogether. Xavier believed that Rurik was turning against them and had decided to keep a close eye on him.

  The entries became farther apart. Halfway through, Xavier caught rumors of a treacherous scandal in the depths of the Vjesci. One of their members was said to be involved with a human. The term ‘human’ was probably used when they discussed outsiders. They were ‘vampires’ after all. This collusion was apparently a big no-no. Gossip flew around while everyone tried to figure out who it was. To my surprise, Xavier was the “traitor”, though he never openly admitted this to anyone, not even Ademar or Kendra.

  He had been falling in love with a woman named Amelia, a widely ridiculed female blacksmith in the neighboring village. I mean, how dare she have the gall to work in such a laborious and “manly” profession, right? Well, Xavier had gone to town to follow Rurik, who appeared to be having secret meetings in a house there. A particularly rowdy group of drunk men became hostile toward Xavier and Amelia had intervened—violently, because apparently this woman also knew how to fight. Amelia sparked intrigue with him from the beginning.

  The two met for a rendezvous of sorts in the next entry and Xavier began writing less of Rurik and more of her. The sappy romantic part of me enjoyed this. At least, until his daughter found out. I expected her to be furious that he cared for someone other than her dead mother, but instead she was upset that he would risk his reputat
ion as a leader for a lowly human. They had a big fight but luckily Kendra agreed not to say anything about it for fear of putting him in danger with the others.

  While this drama ensued between the two, three members of the Vjesci were found dead. Panic coursed through the ranks of the organization and Xavier and Ademar investigated the murders personally. The inexistence of forensics at the time made this difficult. With the help of a well-respected Seer close to the community, the most they could come up with was that only one of the victims had been intended. It was the only victim who seemed to have been burned alive. The other two had broken necks, as well as being burned. They had probably witnessed the first murder and were collateral damage to cover it up. But had there been one attacker or several? What was the motive? Apparently, they hadn’t had a murder in years, let alone a triple-homicide, and their precious Seer didn’t seem to have any answers. Shocker. There were whispers of Rurik’s involvement, but nothing Xavier could prove. Panic spread throughout the rest of the year and a few more families who had been on the fence about staying now fled.

  Xavier’s entries became increasingly helpless. Soon, it seemed that the inner organization of this group was beginning to crumble. Rurik, who had gone into hiding when suspicions continued to escalate, was still an important focus for their people. Others believed that the clan’s leadership was corrupt in its entirety. Xavier and Ademar were attempting to keep control, but it was slipping. All the while, Xavier’s feelings for Amelia strengthened, further confusing his allegiance and dividing his attention. Since they were forbidden any kind of relations with ‘mortals’, his stirrings contradicted with his core beliefs. However, the heart soon won out, and he married her in secret. Skip a year and they’d apparently had a baby. They decided to name him Wyatt and...