Dark as the Grave

by Peter Dawes

  “Flynn!” Anthony said, the tone of his voice making it sound as though we were long-lost friends. “I know we said two nights, but I didn’t expect you so early. You certainly don’t waste time.”

  “I have other matters to attend to,” I said, without moving from my position. “If it is all the same to you, I would prefer to resolve our business as quickly as possible.”

  “If that’s what you desire, then so be it.” Anthony adjusted the cravat tied around his neck, another embellishment making his entire outfit look even more idiotic. “I trust the arrangement we agreed upon is still favorable?”

  My facial expression remained stoic. “Were you able to find it?”

  Anthony chuckled. “I am able to find anything, given enough persuasion. I spent the better part of last evening interrogating mortals to find its current owner. One of my more daunting challenges, but, I found it.”

  “Let me see it.”

  “Tut, tut.” Anthony lifted a finger, wagging it back and forth in a gesture that threatened to cost me my self-restraint. With tremendous effort, I pushed aside my agitation. “First, the answer to my question. You told me that if I procured your trinket, you would offer me protection from Sabrina. Is this agreement still favorable?”

  “I have not indicated otherwise.” I glared as much as possible through the dark lenses of my sunglasses. Stepping forward a pace, I folded my arms across my chest, feeling the hilt of my knives press against my body from their position underneath my heavy, wool coat. “Now, allow me to see it. My end of the bargain is contingent upon this being the item I requested.”

  “Very well.” Anthony slipped a hand into his jacket and removed his wallet from his interior pocket. My anticipation mounted. “I recognized it instantly from your description, so I think you’ll find this to be the charm in question.” He opened the billfold. Had I a pulse, it would have been racing. His actions took on painful slowness, with my mind already envisioning the item I sold in haste four years ago. He reached inside, but then paused.

  I could have spat acid when he closed the wallet again.

  “You know, Flynn, I find it strange that an immortal with your reputation asked for something like this,” he began, apparently emboldened by my affirmation that I still considered our deal favorable. Anthony dug into his coat again and produced a pack of cigarettes from within. “I’ve fielded some fairly unusual requests –” One stick wound up perched between his lips while he fumbled for his lighter. “– And discovered a great deal about other vampires, but when you told me you wanted something so… feminine… I was taken aback.” He chuckled, exhaling smoke through his nostrils while pocketing his lighter. “I thought, if anything, you would desire some sort of weapon.”

  Drawing a deep breath inward, I held it long enough to steady my anger. “Anthony, please hand it over.”

  “I will, I will. My curiosity’s been piqued, though.” He smiled. “Indulge me, Flynn. Tell me of its relevance.”

  “No.” The word emerged through the precarious hold I maintained on my own rage. Sharply delivered, it still failed to hint at how much my composure threatened to break. “This is your last warning – hand it over, or I will slit your throat and take your wallet, leaving you to choke on your own blood. May I remind you that your life is in my hands and I determine whether you walk away from this or not?”

  “Now, there’s no need to threaten. It’s a simple question.”

  “And I have already provided my response.”

  “You know what your problem is.” With one hand, Anthony slid the wallet back into his coat. The other hand pointed his cigarette at me while he spoke. “You’re too intense for such a young immortal. I don’t know if it’s how seriously you take your job, but it’s made you reclusive and arrogant, either way.”

  “I fail to see the problem with this.”

  “If the thought of being friendless for an eternity suits you, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

  “You are the one who assumes me so, Anthony. I promise I have all the friendships I care to have. The rest of you strike me as dull, pompous bastards who would do nothing more than irritate me.” My arms lowered to my sides. Pacing around Anthony, I allowed a taunting smirk to curl the corners of my mouth when he shifted to keep me in front of him. “What concern is it to an impotent, mortal-loving creature such as you if I spend an eternity alone?”

  Anthony bristled. “What did you just call me?”

  “I called you a mortal lover. Why? Does that bother you?”

  “Only you would be bothered by such a thing, Flynn.” The way his eyes narrowed defied the sentiment of his words, his posture tensing both in recognition of the way I stalked around him and reflecting his obvious displeasure with me. “At the same time, I would rather be a mortal lover than the chosen son of an inferior coven, chomping at my maker’s leash. Tell me, do your coven-mates seethe with jealousy whenever you’re around?”

  “Do I care if they do?”

  “You should. They’ll surrender your head on a platter the first moment someone offers them thirty pieces of silver.” A mocking smile spread across his lips, in defiance of the predatory way I eyed him. “You pretend your isolation doesn’t bother you, but I can smell a lie even if you’re dull to it yourself. The Black Rose Assassin. He boasts the exterior of a warrior, but has the heart of a lap dog. And when given one wish, wished for a trinket. A mortal trinket from his human years.”

  The taunt snapped what little self-restraint I possessed. As my teeth descended, I slipped both hands under the folds of my coat and drew two blades, holding them out for Anthony to see. His own fangs descended, though his eyes widened, focusing on the knives as he paced backward two steps. We stopped our circular posturing, feet stilling while I stared him down. “Where other men fight with fists, Flynn carries weapons,” Anthony muttered, tossing away his cigarette.

  “You were the one who wanted to play with fire.” I lunged with one knife, missing on purpose. Anthony dodged out of the way, any remaining humor fading from his expression. It only made my smile broaden. “I think you mistook our bargain for mercy on my part. Should I rid you of that false assumption?”

  I lunged again, this time cutting into his jacket. He hissed on reflex when I grazed skin, putting more distance between us and pausing to quickly assess the wound. Peering from it to me, he grimaced. “If you kill me, then you’ll never know where I found your trinket,” he said.

  “Why do I need to know that?”

  “Put the blades away and I’ll tell you.”

  “How about you tell me and I will decide if I am putting the blades away?”

  “What use do you have to spare me, then?”

  “Do you know what, Anthony?” I licked my teeth, smelling his fear and growing hungrier to spill blood by the minute. “I think you are a liar. I think you are making up an excuse for me not to end you here and now for making me angry. And I think I am going to relish making you suffer for it. Not only are you a waste of immortality, you dress like the ringleader of a circus and take company with humans to cover for your inadequacies. I hope that if I am as pitiful of a creature at your age, somebody does the favor of sending me to hell.”

  “You might not have to wait,” he said, finally making the fatal error I had been waiting for. Moved by rage, Anthony lunged for me, but at the last moment, I sidestepped the attack and pushed him onto the ground. He spilled out, but came to his feet again, making another attempt at charging me and leaving himself exposed in the process. I dodged his fist and swept his feet out from under him. When he rose to another shaky stand, I kicked him in the chest with such force, his back impacted with the concrete exterior of the nightclub. A solid thud preceded a long, pain-laden groan.

  I closed the distance between us with several, swift strides and plunged one dagger into his stomach. Anthony screamed and, as I held him steady against the wall, he gasped at me, his gaze not fully settling on me through what I could only assume was excruciating agony. “Are we
done playing games?” I asked. “Or do I need to… Oh. Hold on a moment.” While my now-freed hand continued pinning Anthony down, I lifted the unused dagger to my ear and pretended to listen. “Yes, I believe this one says it wants your heart.”

  “No,” Anthony said. “Goddamn it, stop. I won’t ask any other questions, Flynn, just stop.”

  “Say please.”

  “Please. Please, please… Fuck.” He gasped again. “I’m serious. I promise.”

  “Better.” Reaching inside my coat to sheathe the unused dagger, I reached for the hilt jutting from his stomach once unencumbered and pulled the knife out from Anthony. As I let go of him, he collapsed onto the ground, though I lost any concern for his well-being the moment I turned away. Instead, I produced a cloth from my pocket and wiped the blade clean, my eyes lifting to survey the night sky. “Sometime before dawn,” I said, sheathing the now-cleaned knife and peering back at the wounded vampire. “As I said, I have other things I want to do with my night.”

  “Whatever,” Anthony said, clinging onto the building to come to a tentative stand again. Resting his weight against the concrete again, he paused to touch his wound, wincing and raising his crimson-coated fingers up to his line of vision. “Damn it. That was my favorite suit.”

  I said nothing in return. Anthony rummaged through his coat again and unfolded the wallet, this time, without hesitation. As he opened it, I studied the creases in the leather, watching his bloody fingers dip inside and feel around. A gold chain gradually came into view as he lifted his hand, and when the pendant emerged from its hiding place, I had to fight the compulsion to draw a sharp breath inward at the sight of what he held.

  Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Is this what you requested?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, strolling forward with feigned confidence and snatching the necklace away. Ignoring how subdued the sight of the pendant had made me, I cleared my throat, in part to mask my slip in composure, and lowered the gold chain into my hand. As my thoughts began to drift, I wandered away from Anthony a few paces, visiting another time and place.

  The dream returned to the forefront of my mind, a memory from when my name was still Peter.

  The necklace I held should have been an engagement ring. That was what had led me to withdraw several hundred dollars from the trust fund my aunt had established before succumbing to cancer. The money from my parents’ life insurance policies and the profits from selling their farm had been meant to sustain me through medical school, but as my residency ended, I concluded that the time had come to propose to my girlfriend of two years. That was why I had found myself standing in a jewelry store, admiring its wares.

  I emerged with something other than a ring, however.

  Upon waking as a vampire, I could not remember why I had given her the necklace, only that the jewelry I had ripped from her neck had been purchased by me. Now, however, a chill crossed my calloused heart, forcing me to relive the scene as though pondering over diamond after diamond bore any significance to me now. I remembered the jeweler who watched from the other side of the counter, frowning at my indecision as I asked him to display several choices and rejected them all out-of-hand.

  Finally, he had sighed and said, “Mr. Dawes, if you’re not sure about this, it’s probably not the best time to propose to her, is it?”

  Looking up at him, I had furrowed my brow, glancing from his expression to the counter and back again. His words convicted me, and as I said, “Well I need to get her something for her birthday,” I let myself drift closer to the other forms of jewelry, stopping when I saw it. Gilded and gothic. It fit the personality of a woman who was as much a joyful soul as she was a melancholy one. Two hearts had been interlaced, and a thorny rose etched across them, making me wonder what it represented. Still, it felt like the perfect emblem for her. At once, I knew Lydia was meant to have it.

  I recalled purchasing it. And, I remembered giving it to her. The latter memory, however, had been causing me a whole other sort of trouble.

  “Flynn?”

  Shaking myself from my thoughts, I glanced back at Anthony, seeing the expectant way he watched me. He nodded at the necklace. “Is this what you were looking for?”

  “Yes,” I said, thrusting it into my pocket. “Was there something to where you found it, or were you lying, like I suspected?”

  “No, there was something odd about its owner.” He waited until he had my attention again before continuing. “Young woman. She looked out-of-place in the neighborhood and gave off an unsettling sort of aura. I didn’t get close enough to see for sure, but I think her eyes were green.”

  The way he said it suggested her eye color should matter. Not wanting to look ignorant, I nodded, filing away the notation without bothering to offer any further commentary. Anthony watched as I paced away from him and lit a cigarette, the weight of his stare lingering on me even when I turned my back to him. “Is our agreement still intact?” he called out to me.

  I focused on the task at hand, shielding the flame of my lighter from the wind first before shutting the lid and pocketing it. “Oh yes,” I said. “I will ensure Sabrina does not touch a hair on your head.”

  “Good.” He failed to notice when my hand remained inside my coat. I heard relieved laughter as I drew one of my knives again, and as he said, “Believe me, I’ll not be crossing your path again, except on accident,” I turned to face him.

  A cold smile traced across my lips.

  “No, Anthony,” I said. “Not even on accident.”

  With a deft flick of my wrist, I threw the blade for Anthony, who noticed the knife hurtling for him a second too late. It plunged deep inside his chest, and what had once been Anthony burned into dust and descended to the ground as nothing more than ash. My knife clattered onto the pavement and settled next to his remains while a gust of wind displaced his remnant into the nether. I reached for the hilt and slipped the blade into its sheath. “I said Sabrina would not,” I murmured. “I did not guarantee the same for me.”

  With a quick adjustment of my coat, and a moment stolen to run my fingers through my hair, I set out with my pearl of great price. As I headed back for the coven, though, I knew I had just played a dangerous game and could yet face wrath for my actions. Sabrina’s eyes extended through a network of spies who usually worked to my benefit. In that moment, however, they had become my bane. I had to do it, though; one memory hinted at other secrets lying in wait without telling me what existed behind the veil. All I knew was that I wanted to solve the riddle of who I was at long last.

  So, I lit another cigarette, and slipped into the shadows to seek proper nourishment. As I did, I offered penance to the gods of indulgence, hopeful my choices would not come back to haunt me later.

  Chapter 11

  The pendant felt as though it was burning a hole in my pocket as I returned to the coven house, bent on putting the whole sordid episode with Anthony behind me. I offered our new doorman a cursory nod, masking my discomfort at smuggling contraband through the front doors, and maintained my typical casual gait as I crossed the foyer.

  Wingtip brogues took the stairs two at a time while my mind remained fixated on Sabrina. My meeting with Anthony had marked the eve of my fifth immortal birthday, and the passing of the midnight hour brought with it memories of how my mistress enjoyed celebrating the anniversary of my awakening. I suppressed a shiver at the vision in my mind – Sabrina lying on her bed, her body’s only adornment a cascade of flowing hair, blazing red in the candlelight. The thought of her hands divesting me of my clothing troubled me, though, as it brought with it the possibility of the pendant’s discovery.

  Shaking my head, I continued upstairs. The hour grew late. I needed to rest.

  I passed my brethren without making eye contact, but caught glimpses of their facial expressions from my periphery. The standard fare, it was what I had come to expect after years of debauchery. Cold stares. Distrust and a slight tinge of fear laden in the way they regarded me, knowing with
what ease I could end each one of them. The corner of my mouth curled upward. I finished my ascent, musing on the benefits of my station aside from a very small circle of friends.

  My accommodations, for instance. No longer slumbering in a neophyte’s closet, I sojourned in a spacious living area normally reserved for the older vampires. No, I had no need of Anthony’s reminder to realize how much jealousy flew about me and how many hands itched for the tools to my undoing. Not a one of them dared to cross Sabrina, though, because they all knew better than to attempt and fail. Others had tried. None had succeeded.

  Still, as I approached the door to my room, perfume wafted near my door, bearing the reminder that some still favored my presence. I paused outside to remove my leather gloves, slipping them into my pocket with a fledgling smile tracing across my lips. I did not love the woman, no. That much was certain. Her presence pleased me nonetheless.

  “Rose. Sweet Rose,” I said as I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, blocking out the artificial lighting in the hallway. Darkness wrapped itself around me, broken only by the soft glow of a sparse collection of candles. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Came for a visit?”

  The slender figure of a blonde-haired woman stood no more than ten feet away. Rose turned to face me, revealing a low-cut black dress hugging tight to her curves with her long hair spilling onto her breasts. She returned my grin with one of her own and closed the distance between us. “I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought I would claim the elusive Flynn first.” Rose lifted her hands to slide my glasses from my face. “Happy birthday, darling.”

  “Thank you, my dear,” I said as I blinked a few times, adjusting my eyes to the dim light. Rose set my glasses onto a table while I strolled further into my room, removing my coat as I walked. “I had a few matters to attend to before I could return, but had hoped to be back sooner.”