Absolution

by Neha Yazmin

  “The Council?” I blurted out, eyes widening.

  Nodding, she said, “And they’re protecting their most powerful weapon. They’re playing a very dangerous game, keeping her in the dark about who she is.” Lydia shook her head, bewildered. “When I saw her mother picking her up from the local shopping centre, the way she treated the girl, it all made perfect sense.”

  It was making sense to me and I really didn’t want it to.

  “The mother was very familiar to us too,” she continued. “Well, is familiar, seen as she isn’t dead like we suspected.”

  “The Slayer?” I choked out. When she nodded I shook my head. “The Slayer died 17 years ago,” I said robotically.

  “In that case it must have been her ghost I saw then!” she snapped.

  “Even if she fooled us,” I said slowly, “her daughter-”

  “Is the next Slayer.” I was glad she cut me off. “This girl is Kim’s firstborn, I’m sure of it. That’s why they’re protecting her like this. Kim’s younger daughter, Heather, is only watched by one Council member at a time, instead of the many that are always around the other girl. Couple this with my vision… Of course the Slayer will make the most powerful vampire in history.”

  “The Slayer is not meant to become a vampire,” I whispered, my head spinning.

  “This one is,” she argued. “I saw it.”

  “Your visions have been wrong before,” I argued back weakly. “They’re just-”

  “Possible outcomes based on the occurrence of a certain string of events. If not tampered with, that’s how her future will play out.”

  “Yes, but you’re attempting to tamper with it…”

  “How? If I didn’t see her, she’d still become one of us, just created by someone else.”

  “Really?” I wasn’t too sure about that. “I can see in your eyes that you’re yearning for your premonition to be true, for that girl to become a vampire. And you want her for your collection.”

  “And why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because…”

  She waited but I couldn’t continue.

  “If she is what I think she is, and becomes what I think she will, then we need her on our side, Christian.” She waved her arms in the air, exasperated.

  “No we don’t,” I insisted but my voice was still too feeble.

  “So we just let her go ahead and inherit her powers when she turns 18 in a few weeks? Wait for her to come after us? Destroy us? When we could so easily turn her against her bosses, The Council? Use their Slayer against them? She’ll be our most powerful weapon. Or she’ll be theirs.”

  It made sense now, why she came straight to me instead of reporting to Mac. She wanted me to go to Reading.

  She wanted me to finish what her premonition had started.

  Chapter 5: Mac

  The two of us debated, rather heatedly, for over half an hour about making a vampire out of the Slayer. My argument was that if, and I insisted that it was a very big if, if the girl in Lydia’s premonition was indeed the Slayer, the only option for us was to kill her. Before she turned 18. Lydia thought there was a reason she had the vision and that reason was that Ellie belonged with The System.

  “I say we - well, you, Christian, the only one who has any chance of getting to her - kidnap her, wait until she turns 18 and then turn her. She’ll have no idea who she was or what she was destined for. We’ll give her a new destiny.”

  “If it was that simple, why have we always attempted to kill the Slayer rather than recruit her?” I argued.

  “A Slayer that knows what she is wouldn’t be any good to us,” Lydia answered immediately.

  “Why are we even discussing this?” I asked, exasperated. “We have to eliminate her, as soon as possible. I have to leave for Reading immediately.” I reached for my ID card to swipe out of the boardroom but she was standing at the door before I fully turned.

  “You can’t make that decision, Christian,” she said sternly. “I won’t let you.”

  “You won’t let me?” I snapped. “You’re not my boss.”

  “No, but Mac is,” she said harshly. “And he might have a slight issue with you making a snap decision without so much as keeping him in the loop.”

  “Snap decision?” I countered angrily. “Were you or were you not asking me to go abduct that girl and then change her without even conferring with Mac? He might have a slight issue with you making such a snap decision without so much as keeping him in the loop.”

  “Fine!” she huffed. “We’ll run it past him. He’ll agree with me anyway,” she claimed arrogantly. “If anyone likes a shiny new vampire toy more than me, it’s Mac.”

  I stopped her when she was about to use the boardroom’s phone to ask Mac to come down from his top floor office which comprised… the entire top floor! That’s where he lived. His home. No one went up there. Not even Lydia.

  As far as I knew, no one had been up to there in the last 17 years.

  “He won’t be amused when he realises we called him to settle our differences,” I cautioned. “He’s given us almost free reign to run this establishment as we wish. To get him involved in something as minor as this-”

  “Minor? Since when has anything to do with the Slayer been minor?”

  “Okay, maybe that’s the wrong term,” I conceded. “The matter is simple: We have to eliminate the girl.”

  “Not without informing Mac!” Stubbornly, she pressed the ‘Call’ button on the phone.

  “Lydia?” Mac’s voice answered through the speakerphone. “Or is it Christian? Either way, how can I be of service?”

  “I hope we’re not disturbing you,” Lydia said, nervously flipping her bright white tresses onto one shoulder.

  “Come now, how could my two favourite members of staff possibly disturb me? In fact, I spend most of my solitary days, simply waiting to be summoned.” He didn’t sound angry or irritated. He sounded like he usually did. Superior. Sarcastic. Patronising. “So tell me, do you require me to join you in the SPR?” The SPR is the abbreviation of soundproof room.

  Because she cared about what Mac thought of her, cared about him in general, Lydia frequently became uncomfortable when he spoke to her in this manner. “Err, yes please,” she mumbled.

  He laughed indulgently. “You sound almost terrified of little old me. Be assured that there is no need for that. I am on my way.”

  Two seconds later, the metal door to the SPR was opening for Mac. He’d taken the stairs. The lifts were really slow. The two seconds were actually what the room’s security system needed to begin opening the door.

  Ever the professional, and fully aware that whatever we wanted to discuss with him in the SPR was a confidential matter, he waited patiently as the dull silver door fully closed. Sighing heavily at the slowness of the metal, he said, “So, what seems to be the matter?”

  He was seated at the boardroom table in the next eye-blink. In his usual black designer suit, which matched his combed-back slick black hair, he resembled an impossibly young CEO of some international financial institution.

  Lydia, who had been standing by his chair, flitted to my side at the other end of the glossy oval table. As much as she admired him, she was also terrified of him. Deep down, maybe I feared him too. As I waited for Lydia to fill him in however, my fear was far from deep within.

  It was pasted all over my face.

  We weren’t asked to sit - Mac rarely asked us to sit with him - so we stood motionless as Lydia cut straight to the chase. “The Slayer never died,” she began. She summoned as much confidence as she could so that he would believe she was absolutely certain of this. “The Slayer, Kim, she’s still alive.”

  Mac’s chalky pale features were unreadable. As his crimson eyes fixed on her, a murderous glint flashed across them. As though Lydia was responsible for the situation she was describing. That’s what he did - he could make you feel like you were to blame for something that had nothing to do with you, simply because you were the messenger.


  Imagine if you were guilty…

  “I’m one hundred percent sure it’s her Mac,” Lydia added when he remained silent.

  “Did I question you?” he asked her coldly. She shook her head. “Did I accuse you of lying to me?” Again she shook her head. If vampires could cry, then her eyes would have welled with tears now. “Did I do anything to suggest that you should repeat yourself?”

  “No, Mac, I’m sorry.”

  “She must have faked her death and lived in hiding. Gone underground,” I said mechanically, hoping to take the spotlight off Lydia. It worked. His icy glare moved to me. I didn’t react the way Lydia always did. I acted as though that was the way he normally looked at me.

  “And that’s when she gave birth to the Slayer,” Lydia added emphatically.

  Mac would normally have switched his stare from me to her at this declaration, but on this occasion, of course his eyes stayed trained on me.

  For the rest of the conversation.

  “I told you about the vision I had of that very powerful vampire,” she reminded him. “But my agents couldn’t get to her; she was so well protected. Of course I investigated and found that the girl is Kim’s firstborn. The Council’s protecting them all.

  “Even that psychic witch of theirs, Amber or whatever her name is-” she knew the name but was jealous of Amber because Mac really wanted the witch to join The System; Lydia didn’t like the idea of no longer being his only psychic “-has magical spells protecting the house and the surrounding area. Vampires can’t get anywhere near their home.

  “Surprisingly, the girl has no idea that when she turns 18 in a few weeks, she will become the-”

  “Slayer,” Mac finished for her, his ruby eyes still on me. By then, I’d let myself meet his eyes and we were locked in each other’s gaze. Wordlessly communicating.

  “She’ll become one of us, I saw it. She will be more powerful than Christian. Maybe that’s why he thinks we should kill her before her 18th. He feels threatened.” She threw a teasing glance at me, a grin on her lips. “I think we wait until she gets her powers and then change her. If she never finds out her identity, then nothing will stop her from joining us. She will be our greatest weapon. Or theirs if we don’t act.”

  “Did you see her join us, Lydia?” Mac asked, tone incredibly polite and inquisitive. Eyes on me though.

  “No, but-”

  “So you are merely speculating on her potential of becoming a weapon for us. Or them.” Eyes still on me.

  “Yes, but-”

  “Did I tell you about the Slayer from the 1770’s?” Finally, he shifted his gaze to her, and then back to me. We shook our heads. “Well, someone from our side had the rather brilliant idea of biting her. Do you know what happened when she was reborn?”

  Lydia and I exchanged a nervous glance before shaking our heads again.

  “She almost massacred the entire compound where they’d held her.” Mac shook his head sadly at the vampire death toll. “Luckily, we had a gifted immortal who managed to contain the Slayer long enough for the surviving agents to finish her off. She’d already had her first daughter so it wasn’t the end of the bloodline, but it taught us one valuable lesson.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Their poison blood acts as a preserver of their humanity and principles. Their instinct to protect human lives increases tenfold after the conversion. Just like all our senses and sentiments do in the new life.”

  All Slayers have a special quality to their blood, detected only by vampires. It’s a fatal poison to us. It seemed the blood had another purpose too, one The System had learned through trial and error.

  “But if she didn’t know who she was,” Lydia argued a little too eagerly, considering the mood Mac was in. “If she didn’t have those principles yet-”

  “She would never kill another human.”

  “We don’t need her to kill humans.”

  “No, but once she realises that we kill humans, she might just want to kill us.” He smiled at her wickedly, menacingly. Then abruptly he said, “Christian will go to Reading and deal with the girl. So if you could kindly excuse us, Lydia, he and I shall talk strategy.”

  “But-”

  “OUT!”

  Lydia didn’t need to be told twice.

  When we were alone, Mac sighed deeply at me. I pretended that I had no idea what was running through his mind. It was the only way I could remain upright.

  “Christian,” he said softly, “it would appear you have a problem.”

  “I’ll fix it,” I assured him determinedly.

  He nodded. “You’re very special to me, Christian. More special than Lydia. Don’t tell her that though; it will upset her. I would be very sorry to lose you. It will be a sad loss for our establishment. Should you fail…”

  “I won’t.”

  “No, you won’t,” he nodded. “Because you really don’t want to let me down. Again.”

  Chapter 6: Background

  No, I didn’t want to fail him. Again. So I came to the town of Reading with a plan that I thought was pretty much guaranteed to work. I just had to make sure I didn’t let Ellie walk away from me like at the end of our first encounter.

  Luckily, I still held captive the other mortal I’d involved in my scheme.

  “So you see Selma,” I said to Ellie’s classmate a few minutes after my initial meeting with the future Slayer, “I won’t need your services anymore.” Swallowing my disappointment and astonishment over letting pass a great opportunity to kill Ellie, I returned to my basement flat at the other end of town.

  Technically, it wasn’t my flat. I was just borrowing it. The owner, a 35-year-old recently divorced father of one, wouldn’t mind.

  Considering he was dead.

  Selma was sobbing, her eyes sore, red like blood. Mmm, blood. I would taste hers soon. If she tasted half as good as her parents then the wait was definitely worth it. The girl had turned out to be the best accomplice I ever had.

  And she didn’t even know it.

  “What do you mean?” the teen asked. She was shaking with her sobs, sitting all crawled up in a ball on the floor by the bed. The sound of her cries irritated me now - at first, it had almost made me feel uncomfortable and nervous, almost understanding her pain. Almost, but not quite. There’s only so long a compassionate person can bear the sound of a teenager’s wails and cries.

  And I was a soulless vampire.

  I crouched down before her. “I mean, you’ve given me all you ever can.” Well, not all, not yet. She would be giving me my meal tonight, and she knew it.

  Her shaking stopped, tears ceased to flow for a few moments. She wasn’t crying anymore. Fear doesn’t make you cry. It freezes you. Makes your blood run cold. Ugh, cold blood. Not good at all.

  “You’re going - going to - to…” she hiccoughed.

  “Yes, I’m going to…” I half-smiled and she cowered back. Already, the venom in my mouth was washing over my glassy tongue. Anticipating. It fanned the burning in my throat. It burned constantly and for one thing only.

  Blood.

  “Just like - just like - like you did - you did-”

  “Yes,” I agreed, my voice smooth, silky, “just like I did your parents.”

  The girl started crying again. Thinking of her parents’ death. Or contemplating her fate, which would be similar to theirs.

  “Think of it this way, Selma,” I soothed, running my fingers through my short black hair, “at least you know what to expect.” I’d killed her father and mother right before her eyes, in this very room.

  “Why are you doing this to me? Why did you… kill my parents?”

  “You still can’t say it, after all the quality time we’ve spent together.” I shook my head in mock disapproval. “I fed on your parents, drank their blood. Your father was the starter and main course, and your lovely mother was dessert.”

  “Stop it!” she urged, covering her ears with her hands, squeezing shut her small brown eyes. Even now, she couldn’t
accept what I was.

  “I guess you could say you’re the coffee at the end of the meal…” Coffee was a great analogy, especially since the girl had coffee brown hair and a mild tan to her smooth skin.

  “Stop it, please. And please don’t kill me,” she begged, her words coming out in a rush. “What have we done to you?”

  “You’ve done nothing to me Selma,” I told her, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her.

  “So, this is about Ellie?”

  Finally, the girl caught on. I’d interrogated her about her classmate, hoping to glean as much information as possible about the girl. “Of course it’s about Ellie.”

  “So why am I here? Why is her family…?” The girl couldn’t comprehend why it wasn’t Ellie’s family that was no more.

  “Don’t worry Selma, what I have planned for Ellie is far worse,” I assured her. “Unlike you, Ellie is my enemy. The only enemy I have. Your parents did me a great service, so I showed my appreciation in the way I eliminated them.” They’d called the school yesterday to relay the message about flying to the US with Selma and that she wouldn’t be back before her final exams. “You helped me even more with what you told me about Ellie and your friends, so I will go easy on you too.”

  “You snapped my dad’s back before-” she came to a stop, unable to describe the scene that took place last night.

  So I did the honours. “Sucking him dry.”

  “You held mum captive in your arms and…”

  “Sunk my teeth into her neck, watching her reflection in the mirror.”

  You never really get to see the facial expressions on your meals while you’re feeding on them, when your teeth and face are buried so deep in their skin, their veins, but when I laid eyes on that portrait of Ellie, I wanted to know what she would look like while I ate her.

  When I discovered she was a Poison Blood, I no longer harboured any intentions of drinking her. I’m not suicidal. But I still wanted to know how the victims felt…

  Giving into my curiosity, I made a hasty decision when I no longer needed Selma’s parents. After finishing off the father and dumping his drained body by the front door, I took the mother in my arms and went to stand in front of the wardrobe’s full-length mirror. Holding her close to me with my arm across her stomach, her back against my chest, I used my other hand to bend her head a little so I could bite her neck.