And A Meadowlark Sang

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And A Meadowlark Sang Page 2

by Jen Pretty


  I carried my two measly bags down the stairs and out to the parking lot. My parking space turned out to be empty. I apparently no longer had a car.

  In its place was another card with the words ‘we have your car' scribbled on it.

  They knew where I lived and had stolen my car? Were they here now, watching me? Could they stand around in the daylight? The two vamps from the gym must have been able to walk in sunlight. There were no accurate sources for information on vampires. I should know. I had spent most of my life searching. All I could find was folklore and fiction.

  In case they were watching me, I walked back into my building with my bags. It was almost 6 pm now, so I still had three hours to kill before the deadline. Think Lark! Argh.

  I grimaced and leaned against the door when I got back in the safety of my apartment. I could hitchhike or get a bus ticket if I could get out of here without them seeing me, the only problem was I couldn’t tell if someone was watching from the midday shadows.

  Screw it.

  I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Frankie: I need to get out of here.

  Maybe I could lose them if I was out somewhere busy and crowded.

  His reply was almost instant: Meet you downstairs.

  Thank God.

  I couldn't take my bags, but maybe I'd get away with my life.

  I stumbled down the last few stairs. Luckily Frankie's hand caught my arm and righted me. Taking the lead, he walked away from our building. I looked around nervously trying to catch sight of the vampires but couldn’t see anyone following us. Frankie glanced at me a couple of times like he knew something was up. I probably looked like I’d been through a hurricane. That's how the last 12 hours felt. The farther we walked, the more my heart rate slowed and the more convinced I became that we weren't being followed at all. Eventually, Frankie turned into an alley and did some fancy knock on an unmarked door.

  The door swung open, and Frankie walked in. As he moved away from the door, I could see it was a dimly lit, empty warehouse. The door stood open in front of me, waiting for my decision. We had never been here before. I could hear music coming from somewhere inside, but it was faint like there were a few other doors between me and the sound. Before I could make my own decision about entering the creepy place, Frankie's arm slinked out, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me in. The door slammed shut behind me. I have excellent night vision, always have had. Still, it took a second for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

  The walls of the vast space were painted with faded and chipped murals of battlefields, largely consisting of men with swords, and dragons diving from the sky. In fact, when I looked up, the whole ceiling seemed to be covered in time-faded dragons of various colours moving through the oily sky like thunderclouds.

  "What the hell?" I asked Frankie. He knew exactly what I meant. This wasn't a bar. He was holding a bottle of rum though, so this place almost fit the bill. There was a man with a bored expression sitting beside the door we had come through. He wasn't paying us any attention though. He had headphones on and seemed to be watching videos on his phone.

  Frankie cleared his throat. "You're safe here," was all he said.

  Did he know? Oh crap. My receding panic shot back through the roof.

  I whispered, "Safe from what?" He had to say it first: I didn't want to say it. Frankie and I didn't talk about our stuff. We didn't know things about each other. Maybe it was just Frankie who was a mystery and somehow, in the last year, hanging out with him, I had somehow blabbed all my secrets.

  He just thrust the bottle of rum into my hands. I stared at him for a moment, but he didn't seem inclined to answer me. So, I took a sip and let the rum burn all the way down my throat. I had never liked rum, but this was one of those moments when hard alcohol was necessary.

  Frankie walked over to the far side of the open space and sat on a lumpy couch, so I followed him and sat down too. That's what we always did. He walked somewhere, and I just followed along. It had occurred to me before now, but at that moment it became clear that I trusted Frankie for no other reason than I trusted him. I didn't know him really. He had just become a solid anchor I could cling to without all the usual requirements of friendship.

  I drank some more to try and delay the inevitable. He knew. I knew that he knew. I didn't know how he knew, but I was sure he did. He wouldn't have brought me to this place and told me it was safe for no reason.

  I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye, but his head was tipped back, resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed. This sucked. Our unspoken pact was going to be ruined. Wasn't my whole life in the toilet now anyway? The vampires knew where I lived. They had found me at my gym. They had my piece-of-shit car.

  "Vampires," I said as a tear tried to creep out.

  He lifted his head, nodded once and rested his head back down -- never even opening his eyes

  That was that. I had always assumed I wasn’t the only person who knew about vampires but finding out Frankie knew made me feel closer to him. I took another swig from the bottle and wiped my eyes. I still felt restless. Frankie said it was safe here but how long could I stay holed up in this building? I didn't want to ask questions. Asking always led to being asked and answering led to death and destruction.

  "I need to get out of town," I said, hugging the nearly empty bottle of alcohol.

  He rolled his head to the side, looking directly at me. "You can't. It's too late," he muttered unhappily.

  I stood up suddenly. "What do you mean it's too late?" I asked, bewildered.

  He muttered under his breath and then cleared his throat. "They won't let you leave. You got a card, you go. There is no point in trying to fight it. How much time do you have?"

  I checked my phone and another hour had passed since I discovered my car missing. "Two hours," I said before turning away and pacing across the room and back again. "I can't go there." I was going to pass out if I didn't calm my breathing. My vision was narrowing. I took a deep breath and centred myself.

  Frankie rose to stand beside me. That had been the most we had spoken to each other in the year we had lived in the same building. The first night I moved in, we sat beside each other at the bar around the corner until we both got kicked out at closing time. We stumbled home, sort of together. Mostly me following along behind him trying to make it look like we were together so the thugs on the corner wouldn't bother me.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, pushing away the memory. When I opened my eyes again, things were blurry, the edges of my vision hazy.

  "Sit down a minute, Lark," he said. It was the first time he used my name, and it pulled me back from the encroaching darkness. I collapsed on the couch and put my head between my knees, forcing my breathing to slow.

  This was just great. I was probably going to pass out, and the vampires would find me here and kill me.

  "They probably won't kill you," he responded like he could hear my thoughts.

  I tried to look at him, but my head spun as soon as I sat up, so I leaned back down and took a few deep breaths before I spoke. "How do you know?"

  I chanced a peek at him, but he was just sitting there staring blankly at the wall. After another moment, he finally spoke again, "I just know. You'll have to trust me."

  That was the kicker. I did trust him. What kind of person trusted someone they had never had a conversation with? I didn't even know his last name.

  "It's Thompson," he muttered.

  "What's Thompson?" I asked still breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth in an exaggerated way.

  "That's my last name."

  I sat up, and the room spun. "What? I… Did you just read my mind?"

  "We each have our gifts," he muttered, waving the question away like it was inconsequential. "I had hoped you could stay in the human world longer, but I guess your time is up. You have to go talk to Mr. Crowden."

  "Who is Mr. Crowden? The Vampire? Is he the one who sent those two goon
s to scare me and steal my car?"

  "Yeah, he probably didn't tell them to steal your car."

  Well, at least I wasn't hyperventilating anymore. I pulled my knees up on the couch and wrapped my arms around them. I hadn't slept today, and the adrenaline crash was hitting me. My mind couldn't focus on anything except maybe I wasn't going to die tonight. Frankie said I probably wouldn't die. He also didn't deny that he was a mind reader. Then a thought occurred to me "Oh my God. You have been reading my mind this whole time!" I exclaimed, making him jump.

  He frowned but didn't deny it.

  “You should eat something, there is a place close by,” Frankie said. He gave the man at the door a nod, and we walked back out into the oncoming evening. The sky was becoming a brilliant red to the west. I wasn't hungry but hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, so I needed to get some food into me if I was going to keep from passing out when I met this vampire guy.

  "What is so special about this Mr. Crowden anyway?" I asked as we walked. The streets were empty.

  "He's the oldest vampire in the city. Well, probably in the state…maybe all of the southwest. He makes and enforces the rules, so they don't go all wild and eat too many people."

  "Too many? How many are too many?" I asked, getting nervous again.

  "Some of them are trouble. I don't know much more about them, they keep to themselves, and we don't mingle," he said glancing back at me. “At least we didn’t,” he said under his breath, but I caught his words and spent a moment considering what he meant by that. We had already fallen into our usual pattern with him walking slightly ahead of me and leading the way.

  "And who are you? Why do you know anything about them?"

  He sighed. He had opened the door to this line of questioning. I had just stepped through it. "I am not sure you are ready to hear all that yet."

  Of course, dodge the most important parts. He was probably right though, and I wasn't ready to hear more about anything weird. I was struggling enough with the vampires, and I had known about them for most of my life.

  We were seated at a small diner a few blocks over. I ordered a burger and fries and a glass of soda. It was more than I could afford to spend but if I died today, I deserved to eat something that didn't come from a freezer. This was it. My last meal and I wasn't sure I'd even be able to eat it with how exhausted and terrified I was.

  We sat in our usual silence, but it was no longer comfortable which made me a bit sad. I liked our silent relationship, even if he knew about me all along. You know what they say about ignorance and bliss.

  The time had come. I had no choice but to get going. I trusted Frankie. I kept repeating that in my head.

  I left him at the diner and took the long bus ride to the upscale neighbourhood. When I arrived, I pulled out the card in my pocket to check the address. It was full dark now, but there were street lights along the well maintained and landscaped sidewalk. The area was clean and quiet and completely free of the ranting vagrants and street thugs that littered my neighbourhood. The homes here were pretentious mansions, set well back from the road so you could only get a glimpse of the majestic buildings beyond the gates.

  I found a uniformed guard sitting in a gatehouse at the address on the card. He saw me coming and raised a single brow when I hesitated. I really needed to put on my brave pants.

  "Who are you?" the man asked. I should say vampire because he was not a human.

  "Lark," was all I replied.

  He took out a radio and spoke so softly I couldn't hear him. I couldn't hear the static reply either, but the gatekeeper looked back to me and said, "Go ahead," with a smirk.

  This was really happening. I was going to walk into a house full of vampires. Why had I trusted Frankie? I could have left town. Hitchhiked or maybe stolen a bicycle. Why hadn't I thought of that? I'd had twelve hours. I should have gone. Stupid.

  I entered through a smaller gate onto the lane leading to the mansion. The trees on either side were intimidating, hanging over my path. They grew denser as I went until I couldn't see beyond the driveway. I didn't care if I looked scared. I was fucking scared.

  The house loomed ahead with cathedral columns supporting the second and third story balconies. The house was stone with arched windows and doorways. Very Dracula. Perfect for a house full of vampires. A total cliché. There was a five-car garage to one side, and the paved driveway branched off towards it after circling in front of the giant house.

  I stood at the base of the stairs leading up to the door and paused. There was still time to turn around and leave. I could go far, far away.

  Too late, the door opened, and a cheery looking older man stood in the doorway. He looked like a butler, not scary at all, but then, he was human.

  Why would they have a human working for them? Was he a snack for later? I couldn't just stand there any longer; even I was getting a weird vibe from me. Ugh.

  "I'm Lark," I said as I mounted the steps and approached the man.

  "Yes, I was told to expect you. Come in. I'll show you to the parlour."

  No turning back now, I was in the spider's web.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I followed the man into the foyer. It was painted in muted tones of grey and tan but had large oil paintings of sunsets and landscapes hanging on the walls. The furniture was befitting the house and matched the tone and colour pallet. The butler led me to a smaller room down a hall.

  "Have a seat, Mr. Crowden shouldn’t be long," he said before leaving and closing the door behind him. I didn't hear a lock click, but my nerves were on fire. I walked back over and tested the doorknob. It wasn't locked.

  I stood in the middle of what looked like a lawyer’s office. A large desk sat in one corner with bookshelves lining the walls behind it. The couches on the other side of the room probably had a fancy name to go with the ornate wooden scrolling on the side and back. They weren't soft and stuffed like a couch either. The ceiling in the room was over ten feet and had hammered tin sheets covering it. I walked over to the closest bookcase and pulled a random book off. It was not in English, it looked like Latin, but since I had a faulty education, at best, I had no idea.

  I put the book back on the shelf and took a seat on one of the couch things. It wasn't particularly comfortable. In fact, the whole house had this ‘don’t get comfortable, you shouldn’t be here’ vibe. I would have loved to leave, but now that I was here, I was ready to see this through. As time dragged on, I got restless. The room was large enough that I could move effortlessly amongst the furniture, so I paced around.

  As I passed the desk for the fourth time, I noticed some pages that looked like letters on the desk. With nothing better to do, I started reading. It seemed to be a correspondence from someone named Vaughn. Though it seemed to be in Latin too, maybe.

  I glanced over a few more in the pile. They were all the same, but maybe this was my chance to learn something about these secretive vampires. I folded a couple and tucked them into my pocket then returned to the couch just as the butler walked back in.

  "My, deepest apologies, Mr. Crowden won't be able to meet with you today. An emergency has come up that he must attend to, if you would follow me, I can see you to your quarters."

  “I’ll just head home, thanks." I slid past him into the hall.

  "Mr. Crowden has asked that you remain here until he is able to meet with you. I have a suite of rooms available for you in the north tower," he said, following me out into the hall and gesturing to the north.

  I looked that way and then back the other, trying to decide which direction we had come. The hall was wide and painted in earth tones, with small ornate light fixtures on the wall but looked mostly the same in both directions.

  "I'm not staying here," I said with a laugh that completely lacked any humour.

  "I can send someone to gather some of your belongings."

  Like that was the only reason I wasn't going to stay in a house full of vampires.

  "I am not staying here. You can s
teal all my stuff and burn down my apartment building, I'm still not staying here," I said with conviction this time. No more messing around.

  The butler sighed. "Mr. Crowden thought it might be a problem for you. Please be aware that we will have a guard outside your apartment and following you until you are able to meet with Mr. Crowden properly."

  "It’s fine. I'll stay in town," I promised.

  His face gave away nothing when he replied, "That's excellent,” He turned and started walking down the hall. I hurried after him, and he led me to the front door.

  He opened the door and stood to the side. I gave him a suspicious glance and walked out. I was hustling down the steps and the driveway before he could blink. I was leaving the vampire house alive and with all my blood. It seemed too good to be true. Like I had thumbed my nose at fate.

  Just as I got to the guard house, a shiny Tesla pulled up outside the gates and idled. I walked to the gate, and the guard let me through. Indicating the car, he asked, "Would you like a lift home?"

  "Hell no," was my reply as I peered at the vampire behind the wheel. His eyes glowed in the darkness. Apart from the freaky eyes, the guy looked like a kindergarten teacher with floppy curly hair and a soft boyish face, but I knew he was a predator waiting to pounce. All vampires were monsters, and this one was no different. I wasn’t going to climb into a steel box with the devil willingly -- even if it was an expensive, eco-friendly steel box.

  I immediately turned south and headed back towards the bus stop the car driving slowly behind me. I now had a vampire babysitter. Great.

  I stood at the bus stop, the car idling about a hundred feet away. It was ridiculous, but I was not going to engage the vampire. He could stay in his car, and I would wait here in the dark for my bus. After waiting for half an hour, I accepted that the busses didn't run this late in this neighbourhood. I turned to start walking out of the posh area of the city and towards areas where busses would still be running to take the drunk hockey fans home from the stadium.

 

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