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The II AM Trilogy Collection Page 18
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“Jesus …”
“It was something less than pretty. I watched from a distance, but I made sure Isaac could see me. Oh, I made very sure of that. I am not proud of these things, Two, but I do not regret them, either.”
Two was quiet for a moment, thinking the story over in her mind. What would it be like if someone swooped in and took Theroen from her now? How could she go on?
Theroen smiled at this. They were very near the mansion now.
“Two, there is no one left to do so. Abraham has known for many years now that the time of my leaving was imminent. He does not have to like it, but he will permit it.”
To Two, this was somehow little comfort.
* * *
They rounded a corner, and the mansion came into view. Two felt a sudden surge of adrenaline, followed by a slow, crawling dread. Theroen grimaced. At the end of the driveway, nearly hidden in shadow, stood a massive black figure that could only be Abraham. The Ferrari moved up the gradual slope of the long hill, and the creature’s face came into the headlights. The light seemed to shy away from him, illuminating his features only grudgingly.
Two felt locked in place, unable to move. Theroen shut off the car, and Abraham was plunged once again into darkness.
“I have awaited your arrival, my son.” Abraham’s voice was less heard than felt, like slugs crawling through Two’s head.
“Have you, father? I thought I had fulfilled my duties for the evening.”
“Yes. Yes, well enough. There is much we must talk about.”
“It would appear so. You are aware of Missy’s transgression, then?”
“I was aware while it happened, Theroen. You know this.”
Theroen nodded. “With respect, father, may we talk in private?”
“You would not expose your pretty fledgling to me any more than is necessary, would you, Theroen? Afraid of corruption, perhaps?”
Theroen said nothing. Abraham smiled, fangs reflecting silver-white moonlight from amidst the shadow of his face. His eyes burned red, that same dark humor behind them.
“Very well. If your daughter, or lover, or whatever it is you’ve made of her, can move, she is free to do so.”
Two realized that this creature was reveling in her obvious fear, and it was this, more than anything else, that gave her the strength to get up. She moved on wooden legs away from the door, wanting to glance back at Theroen, afraid to do so. As she passed behind Abraham, she felt his mind touch hers once, like the dirty groping fingers of a licentious old man. The feeling reminded her very much of her time working clients for Darren, and her instincts lashed out, angry, against it.
Abraham turned casually toward her, and with what seemed no more than a flick of his wrist, grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around to face him. The force was immense, nearly dislocating the joint and Two hissed at the pain that lanced through her. Abraham’s touch revolted her, burned into her skin through the thin leather jacket like hot iron. The sight of his eyes drained her of anger, left only a numb fear unlike anything she had felt before. Primitive, primeval, beyond consciousness. She wanted to weep, to cry out, to do anything but look at this thing before her.
“Do not forget whose blood runs in your veins, my dear, impudent little bitch. Your lover may defy me, on occasion. He has earned that right through time and service. You have not.”
“Father …” Theroen’s voice was strained, not with fear this time, Two thought, but with something beyond loathing. Two’s vision began to swim, and she realized she had not taken a breath since Abraham had laid his hand upon her. She tried now, and found she could not. Her eyes, her lungs, were locked by Abraham’s gaze. Adrenaline coursed through her body, her heart beating furiously, but to no avail. The world began to go grey, and Two felt her legs weakening.
“If you kill her, Abraham, be prepared to kill me as well. I shall surely attempt to do so to you.” Theroen’s voice held no tension, now, only a cold, deadly seriousness.
At this, Abraham grinned, and took his eyes away from Two. She slumped to the gravel, gasping for breath, head throbbing sickly. Theroen made to help her up, and Abraham put a hand out, restraining him.
“Come, my son. Walk with me. Two is Eresh-Chen, now. She can find her way to her feet on her own.” He walked toward the edge of the grounds, where grass met forest, as if a refusal were impossible.
Theroen cast a glance at Two, and she nodded, motioning him away. She had drawn herself into something of a sitting position, propped up on her arms, legs stretched out to her side. She thought she would very soon be sick, and she didn’t want Theroen to see it. His jaw clenched momentarily, his hate for Abraham clearly visible on his face. Then it was gone, replaced with that same calm that she had seen so many times before. He nodded, turned and followed his father.
When they were safely out of sight, Two struggled to her feet. She managed two steps, head still thudding, enough to lean against the wall of the mansion’s garage as she coughed and dry-heaved. Her body had already absorbed the night’s blood, and after a few more attempts, it gave up trying to expel what wasn’t there. Two leaned against the wall for a few moments longer, shuddering, waiting for the awful, spinning blackness at the edges of her vision to clear. In time, it did, and she shuffled her way into the mansion.
* * *
Chapter 5
A Tooth for a Tooth
The mansion. The next evening.
Two was used to this new style of waking, now. Instantly alert, instantly aware. She stretched, ran a hand through her hair, and sat up, looking around the empty room. Theroen had not returned before sleep had taken her the night before, and he was not here now.
The house had been devoid of life when she had entered it the previous evenings. Melissa’s room was dark and empty. No noise came from the cell in the basement. Two had made her way to the room she shared with Theroen, exhausted and shaken from her encounter with Abraham, and promptly collapsed into unconsciousness.
A shower seemed like a good way of prolonging the time before she would have to leave the room and face the dark things growing outside. Two sighed, padded her way to the bathroom on bare feet, and lost herself for a time in torrents of warm water.
* * *
One of the televisions downstairs was on. She could hear it as she left the bathroom. Two pulled on clothes, ran a brush through her hair, and departed. She descended the arching staircase and turned into the room she had come to think of as the media center. Large televisions, three of them, each at least four feet tall, lined one wall. Discreet wooden units housed their audio components. Couches were arranged in front of the screens. Most of the clutter that seemed to choke the rest of the mansion was missing from this room, perhaps because it was one of the few areas of the building that received frequent use.
Theroen reclined on one of the couches, and his presence confirmed that it was Melissa who sat on another. Two found it unlikely he would tolerate Missy, particularly given recent events.
As if to confirm this, Melissa turned to her and spoke. “We were wondering if you were ever going to wake up.” She tried for a smile, managed something like one, and then looked away. Two sat down next to Theroen, who adjusted his position to allow her to recline against his chest. He said nothing.
“It was a long night,” Two said.
“Tell me about it.” Melissa sighed, shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Melissa. For whatever that’s worth.”
Melissa offered her another smile, sad, but more sincere than the last.
“I know. We need to talk about it, don’t we?” she asked. Theroen nodded. Two felt the movement. Melissa bit her lip, glanced at the TV, muted it.
“Where do we start?” Two questioned. Melissa shrugged. Theroen sighed.
“Let’s begin with a lesson on vampire biology,” he said. “How do you feel right now, Melissa?”
“Exhausted,” Melissa admitted, after a moment.
Theroen nodded. “Indeed. Certainly not i
n any shape to undergo the rigors of finishing the process that was started last night. In fact, your blood is so weakened at the moment that the process would not even advance. Missy is, of course, unaware of this, but at best Samantha will remain a half-vampire for decades or centuries.”
Two turned her head up to glance at Theroen. “Why?”
“Melissa’s blood needs time to rejuvenate. But to remain a half-vampire, Samantha needs periodic infusions of that blood. Before Melissa could strengthen enough to complete Samantha’s transformation, she will either have to give the girl blood in order to keep her a half-vampire, or allow her to revert. If she allows the latter, then when she again tries to make Samantha into a vampire, it will be to the same result. Melissa will not be prepared to create a fledgling for hundreds of years yet.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “Great.”
“Such is the nature of our particular strain. This, of course, is the least of our current problems. It is just the most easily discussed. There are other things of which we need to speak, Melissa.”
The dark-haired vampire on the couch across from them was quiet for a long time. Finally she said, “I’ve known Missy for a long time. There, I said it. I’ve never said her name before. Missy. I hate that name. I hated it before she even existed. But I knew her before she existed. She … Abraham didn’t create her, exactly. He just woke her up. She was just a dream before that; something that only came occasionally, and brought nightmares where I did awful things.
“I hated those dreams. Not because they were frightening, or awful, but because in the moments right after I woke up, I could feel her. I could understand the appeal. Christ, I’d wake up totally fucking aroused, like a part of me I couldn’t feel when I was awake not only enjoyed the things in those dreams, but got off on them.
“The pain of the blood, Abraham’s blood … it brought her out. It spoke to her like nothing I had ever allowed into my life. Once she woke up, she didn’t want to go back. She can’t take over … not yet. She has to wait until I’m asleep. But she can keep me out for longer and longer each time, and she can let me back in whenever she wants. She’s stronger than I am. She spends more and more time with my body. Eventually, what happens? I wake up next to a half-vampire I don’t even know, and find out that it’s my blood that did it.
“So that’s when I really knew. This body is Missy’s. I’m just along for the ride until she beats me back completely. Then I’ll be the dream, I guess. Maybe I can give her nightmares.”
Two opened her mouth to say something, and could think of nothing to say. Melissa wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know. She was simply admitting the truth to herself.
Melissa was crying now, unable to look at them. “When you first told me about Two, Theroen, you said you thought you would stay here maybe twenty years. Twenty years? I’m not sure you’ll last another twenty days. I could never read people like you could, and I could never read you … but I’ve been able to all the time for the last few weeks. Escape. Escape. It’s like a flashing neon sign in your head.
“And I can’t even b—bring myself to hate you for it. Either of you. It’s not your fault, and I know it, and that makes it so hard.”
Theroen stirred. Two shifted her weight, allowing him to sit up. He looked at Melissa and when he spoke, his voice retained its nearly ever-present calm, but there was deep sympathy in it, and an almost heart-breaking sadness. “A hundred and twenty years, Melissa. It comes and goes like the wind, and I hate myself for all of this, even if you cannot.”
“Don’t.”
Theroen shrugged. It can’t be helped.
“I don’t want her to win, Theroen, but she’s going to.”
Two spoke up. “Does she have to? Is there any other way?”
Theroen answered her. “I don’t know, Two. We have little time to find out.”
“Why?”
“There are two things eating away from our time here, my own desire to leave not included. The first is Samantha. She will wake, soon, and that will force a decision on her fate. A minor matter, perhaps. Perhaps not. The second is Abraham, who has instructed me of his desires. He wants us gone, Two, the sooner the better. As Melissa said, we will not be here another twenty days, but not because of any desire on my part. He says he has grown tired of me. As for Missy, Samantha, Tori—he has told me that when we leave, we must not take them with us.”
Melissa made a quiet sobbing noise. She was not looking at them, was instead watching the silent images on the television.
“What if you killed Abraham?” Two stood up, paced back and forth a few times, then looked at Theroen. He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head slightly, said nothing.
“I’m serious. What would happen to you? To Melissa? To Tori and Samantha and me?”
“This is an unwise avenue of discussion.”
“Is he really that powerful? Is it impossible?”
“That and more. Abraham has studied long in vampire lore. He is very aware of his capabilities, and has pushed those boundaries further than perhaps any other living vampire. He revealed a rather startling talent to me last night, unwittingly I think, when he caught your breath. I knew that in close proximity, his power over others’ minds was significant, but I did not know that he could allow you full reign of your thoughts while controling otherwise involuntary functions. I do not know how to do that, do not know how he did it, and do not know how to fight it.”
“Okay, but suppose somehow he died. We can’t kill him. Fine. But say tomorrow Abraham … I don’t know … gets hit with a nuclear bomb and is turned to ashes. What would happen to us?”
“Us. Very well, Two. On a purely speculative basis – as what you speak of is simply not a possibility for a wide variety of reasons – I think I can answer that. What happens when the head of a line dies? It depends on the age of his children, and the type of vampire.
“If you kill an Eresh vampire, his children may be significantly weakened. Certainly any half-vampire he has created will revert to human form. Full vampires may or may not revert, depending on the amount of time that has passed since the change. If someone killed me, Two, you would revert to human form in a matter of weeks. You’ve not been changed nearly long enough for it to ‘stick,’ so to speak.
“If someone, somehow, killed Abraham, the effects would be less drastic. Melissa and I have made the change completely and will not revert. Tori might revert, but I have no way of knowing if her mind would return with her humanity, and at this point the physical changes may not completely fade. It is possible that she would be very strong and very fast, for a human being … comparable perhaps to one of the other vampire strains. There would be no effect on Samantha, or on you, if Abraham were killed.
“So, continuing this interesting but, unfortunately, rather useless line of thought, if Abraham were killed, it would have little effect on the present situation, beyond possibly allowing Samantha the opportunity to return to her normal life, since he would no longer consider her his property.”
Two watched him, frustrated, knowing that he would not lie to her, but unwilling to believe that defeating Abraham was not within some realm of possibility. No guarantees on Melissa, Theroen had said, but would it not at least give them more time to work on helping her rid herself of Missy?
“It would indeed.” Theroen had picked up her thoughts. “But that in itself is not a guarantee, and an attempt on Abraham’s life would assuredly lead only to the cessation of our own. If Karma exists, I’ve been living on borrowed time since Lisette … died. But I could not bring myself to sacrifice your life so needlessly.”
“We have to do something, Theroen.”
“Yes, we do, but the choice is not ours, Two. We have three options. The first is the easiest, at least for us: we leave. Melissa, Tori, and Samantha stay. The second: we stay for as long as possible, against Abraham’s will. Melissa is eventually engulfed by Missy; Samantha is kept in a state of half-vampirism indefinitely and is likely warp
ed by Missy’s teachings; Tori continues her mad existence; and eventually Abraham’s evil drives me away. In the interim, there will be little other than despair, and the end result is no different from the first option.
“Then there is the third …”
Melissa had turned to listen to Theroen again, and her eyes said she knew what he was to say. Theroen grimaced, looked at his sister with deep, sad eyes, and continued.
“The third is a possibility that Abraham must know is in consideration. He has known me for too long not to guess that I would offer my sister this choice: if she wishes, she and Tori will die by my hand. That is the third option. Had Abraham expressly forbid it last night, I would have acceded. He did not. He told me only that he wished that they remain here. He has left me to make my own decision on how to interpret that.”
Melissa’s eyes were hard and glassy, but if more sobbing threatened, she held it at bay. She met Theroen’s gaze, her mouth a thin, white line. Two looked between both of them, and at last shook her head.
“No. That’s crazy. There’s a fourth alternative, whether you want to admit it or not, Theroen. The fourth is that we attempt the impossible and try to kill him. We have to!”
It was Melissa who spoke.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Two. I’m going to die. Pick any scenario, and at the end of it, I still die. I’d rather not go with your life, and Theroen’s, on my conscience.”
“But if he dies, maybe Missy will …”
“Disappear? I told you, Two. I’ve known Missy for a very long time now. Abraham woke her up, yes, but she doesn’t intend to be put back to sleep. If I believed there was the slightest chance of that, I might agree with you, but even then probably not. So put it out of your head, now. You’re going to get yourself killed talking like that.”
Theroen waved his hand, dismissing the idea. “Abraham knows the difference between threat and idle speculation. If anything, hearing Two speak in this manner would only amuse him. Were you to attempt to kill him, Two, I do not think he would be particularly upset with you. He would likely welcome the entertainment. He would destroy you, of course, but he would do it smiling.