CHAPTER ONE – POISONOUS
Darkness had set in. Shadows, long and gripping filled the alley. I hovered over the bottle, tepid glass pressed against my wind-burnt lips while machine gun electric guitar rattled from behind the chipped metal club door. It was all boozy fumes, rotting vegetation, and long past meat in the slurry of rain and soupy refuse. The graffiti gave no inspiration. It’s all poisonous, it read in splattered and dripping letters on the grey brick wall.
It was right. This whole fucking world, it was all poisonous.
I squeezed the bottle in my hand. A decision had to be made and I was seven eighths of the way there. The wafting almonds reminded me of grandma’s kitchen in all its lemon-yellow glory, filled with coconut cream pies and buttery shortbread. That had gone with the old lady. There was never going to be any of that again. Not in this world anyway. No one deserved such treats. I tipped my arm, the liquid way down the bottom of the dark brown bottle now sliding its way towards my lips.
“Oh, honey,” a silky voice crooned. “Don’t do that. The world ain’t that bad.”
I paused.
She clicked. High heels splashing percussion on the alley’s damp bottom, even as her finger wrapped around my wrist.
CHAPTER TWO - TRANQUIL
As agitated as I was, she was placid. Cocoa eyes staring like she was waiting for me to comply. Just waiting and expecting nothing less. So I did. I let the bottle drop to the ground beside me, all its toxic liquid mixing with the equally contaminated sludge on the ground.
“Time to go, Zero,” she smiled. “You can’t hang out here all night. We have work to do.”
She was always rescuing me, Ms. October. She was always there to be my conscience, to be my strength, to be my will. I don’t know what I gave her. If it was anything – it certainly wasn’t much.
“Why do you always have to take everything so hard, Zero?” she asked, leading me by the hand, her black gloved fingers interlocking with my frost bitten red ones.
Why did I have to take it all so hard? Well, I can start at the beginning and figure it out. I could go back and try to pin point the moment everything shattered.
Even as she opened the door to her Roadster, my eyes slid shut with memories, letting my now-body collapse into the barely-worn leather while my mind jumped to the past, trying to make heads or tails of it.
It all started twenty three-hours before. She ran her fingers down my spine and said, “It’s time to go to Tranquil. I have a lead. Get dressed.”
CHAPTER THREE – ROASTED
The Tranquil Lounge lived up to its name. Gown dressed ladies, and men in shiny silk suits, draped over velvet couches, glasses of the Green Fairy Absinthe, dangling from their languid fingers. Music flowed over the scene, slow and haunting, as shadowy laughter from patrons, amused by the obscure, cut the air.
The man at the door, a hulking fellow who looked like he was the result of genetic misdeeds, asked for the password. Ms. October had it, of course. “Serene, darling. It’s all just serene.”
The man nodded and let us in with what appeared to be a smile, but the size of his chin and the knotted scar tissue around his mouth tore that effort from the polite and into the uncanny valley of emotions.
Still, I appreciated the effort.
The lounge was packed, the air – thick with twisted fragrant smoke emanating from a pig on a spit and thin brown cigarillos preferred by the gentlemen of this club, made it difficult to see our mark. “We should split up,” I suggested in a hiss.
Ms. October nodded, her fingertips brushing the shimmering blue fabric of her gown as she made sure her pistol was firmly in place on her thigh.
I wound my way towards the pig, weaving through arms and legs carelessly thrown into my path by the sprawling patrons. Then I saw him, Carlos Carlton. Lover of fine wines, vivacious lads, and top-secret military technology. It was him we needed to talk to and I had no problem doing it here and now. Carlos, on the other hand, seemed to take exception to our impromptu meeting. I rushed forward, jostling more than a few drops of absinthe onto the carpet and receiving curses for my efforts, before finally catching up with Carlos. “Time to chat,” I growled.
“I’ve done nothing,” he whined back, his head flopping on his neck in a one body-part tantrum.
“Enough. You knew this was inevitable.”
He straightened his head, “Yes but . . .” His pool-green eyes darted between me and the ruby coals under the roasting pork behind me.
“That’s not a plan you can execute,” I warned, already onto him.
Whatever bravado he had, which was very little at the best of times, melted away before my eyes. “Not me,” he blurted, turning away and flopping onto a nearby couch, eyes covered.
“What?” I asked bewildered. It was then I saw what had frightened him. The Tranquil Lounge had lost its tranquility. My accidental absinthe knocking had set these otherwise limp patrons, into an army of spirit filled zombies out for revenge. I darted right, only to be blocked by reaching hands. I darted left, but wide eyed faces, pale and savage met me. I tried to go forward but they blocked my path. “Roast him. Roast him,” they chanted in slow deep tones. The music kept playing and, as my heel caught the edge of the pit and the heat from the charcoal melted a hole my cheap suit I wondered if this was how I was going to die - roasted alive.
CHAPTER FOUR – SPELL
Eyes red, the crowd closed in even as my body fell back, my right hand landing on the slippery carcass of the pig, its crisp skin shifting from its flesh like a hot oily glove. My left hand wheeled in the air. The spirit filled crowd reached for me. My feet landed in the coals, shoes melting. I closed my eyes. Foot flesh seared. I gulped back a scream. A fist grabbed my shirt, yanking.
Ms. October, inches from my face, pulled me back to the floor before letting go and smoothing my sweat soaked button up as best she could. I puffed a relief from my heat cracked lips and pressed the heel of my hand to my eye, holding back fear at what could have been. She yanked out her gun, one eye closed, aiming it from person to the next.
“Tell where to find Madame Morre or I’ll start shooting and I won’t stop until I’m out of clips. And honey,” she eyed the tallest and most aggressive of the attackers, “I have a lot of clips.”
“I can tell you,” a deep voice came from the back. I blinked through the smoke to see it was the doorman who spoke. “Come.”
Ms. October lifted her skirt with one long red nail and slipped her gun back in its holster before walking towards him. The crowd parted before her. I followed, a beaten puppy, eyes to the grubby and stained carpet.
Once we were alone by the door, the hulking, disfigured man spoke again. “You’ll find Madame Morre at the Roost. She should be there now.”
“How do you know?” I asked, suspicious at this sudden willingness to give up such information so easily.
“We have history, and I owe her more than you know.” He looked away. “Now go. You’re scaring the customers.”
CHAPTER 4.5 – SPELL
Dragon’s blood. That’s all I could smell. Sweetly intoxicating and swirling up from the stick of incense in writhing twisting tendrils of white ribbonous smoke. Mesmerizing.
“What is it yah want, Ms. October? Come for a spell or two? Love maybe? Life? What is it you need?” Madame Morre was a tall angular woman, her hair held in a towering gold turban. Bangles and bones clattered and chimed off her every joint. Her long silver nails clacked along a warn walnut cabinet, scorch marks marring the wood grain.
“I don’t need your witchcraft, woman.” Ms. October snapped, eyes blazing.
“Not anymore you don’t, girl.” Madame Morre grinned, her lips thinning. She reached up and opened the cabinet with a sharp click of the latch, pulled out a thin purple bottle, and handed it to me – cold hand wrapping around mine. “A present for you, for when all hope is lost.”
“Leave him alone!” Ms. October growled, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Who is he to you?” Madame Morre questioned, languidly letting go of my hand and leaving the bottle behind.
I slid it into my pocket.
“My partner.”
“Oh! Another . . .”
“Enough!” Ms. October stomped her foot.
“Temper, temper, child.” Madame Morre turned towards the mirror and pulled off its silk scarf covering launching a flurry of dust motes into the dark air of the room. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“Good,” Ms. October said.
It was then that a noticed just how uncomfortable she looked, shifting foot to foot. This lady had her rattled and that had me rattled.
Madame Morre preened in front of the mirror. “I have nothing to do with it. And that’s the truth.”
CHAPTER FIVE – CHICKEN
“So you know what we’re here for?” I ask, just wanting to leave, if only for Ms. October’s sake. As for me, the place was creepy with its dark edges, lace draped lamps, and red glowing incense dotting every corner of the mysterious and stifling room.
“Oh yes, I know why you came.” Madame Morre turned to me and leaned her angular face into mine, finger hovering just in front of my nose. “People disappearing. Someone you love, maybe? Strange signs. Shadows just outside the corner of your eye? Yes, boy. I’ve seen it too . . . but it ain’t me.” She glowered at Ms. October. “No matter what your partner might say.”
“I didn’t say a thing,” Ms. October jutted her chin out eyes focused on wooden door leading to a back room.
“You may as well.”
“So tell us then. Who is responsible?” I asked, trying to stop the fight brewing barely under the surface.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Madame Morre fanned her fingers opened, then cascaded them closed with the last one urging me, and Ms. October in turn, to follow her. She opened the wooden door, leading us into a much cooler and much darker room. I could barely see beyond the silver turban leading us, but the sounds, the sounds were what made me pause.
Stirring wind, grinding dirt, and the rustle of feathers. A loud cluck followed by a screech and a crunch. The scrape and hiss of a flaring match. Bright yellow light casting slithering shadows. Madame Morre lit five candles on a blood stained stone table three feet from my chest, laying out the freshly killed chicken, then picking up a bright silver knife, moonlight glinting off its blade from the shattered window behind her.
“You want to know the secrets the night holds? Tonight we will skry the truth from the spirits who hold it!”
The knife flashed down splattering blood over the bright white feathers, landing warm and damp on my shirt. I turned, intending to flee. Ms. October held me in place. Her hand clamped hard on my shoulder, fingers steel on my bones. “Breathe,” she whispered, lips flicking my ear. “We need this information. Be strong.”
I nodded and turned back. Soon we would know who took Max, why, and more importantly – if he was still alive.
I desperately hoped he was alive.
CHAPTER SIX – DROOLING
The chicken dismemberment, seventy-two candles, and a still beating human heart (I think, things were getting real swimmy by then) proved to be too much. Blood pounding, skin flashing hot then cold, mouth tasting of iron and aluminum, and soon my eyelids fluttered. The next thing I remember was the doorman from Tranquil shaking my shoulder and smearing drool from my mouth to my eyebrow with a meaty hand and a dubious handkerchief.
“You okay?”
I sat up, still wobbly. “Where am I?”
“The Roost. Don’t worry. You haven’t moved.”
“Why are you here?” I asked, starting to use my sleeve to rub my face but stopping just as quickly when I saw the blood spatters dotting it. I grabbed the dubious handkerchief instead and finished the job. “Thanks,” I said handing it back.
“No problem.” The door man pointed at his shoulder, his arm hanging at a funny angle. “Repairs.”
“Huh?” I asked, wishing the world would right itself in my brain.
“I came for repairs. Madame Morre made me, and she keeps me going.”
“Not if you keep over doing it!” Madame Morre called from some unseen shadow. “Alejandro, come!”
“Gotta go,” Alejandro, the doorman, said patting my head with a Christmas ham sized palm. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, and I hope it doesn’t get you killed.”
Alejandro left and entered the room with the wooden door. I shuddered. Where was Ms. October? Was she all right? Pushing to my feet I scanned the room. Other than the creepy décor, there wasn’t much to see. I decided to check outside.
It was a good call. Ms. October leaned against the car pulling long, burning drags from her cigarette. “Awake finally,” she commented flicking the butt away and getting in the car.
“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck and went around to the passenger’s seat. “Did you get what we needed?”
She stabbed the key in the ignition. “Yeah. But you’re not going to like it.”
“I don’t care if it’s Satan himself, so long as we rescue Max,” I replied, puffing out my chest, bravado welling.
“Satan?” she laughed. “Satan would be a day in Grandma’s kitchen.”
“Who then? I can take them all!”
“Jacob Cuba.”
My chest deflated until I was a curled shell of a man. “Oh shit.”
“Still want to save Max?”
I bit my lip, my head a tremble of a nod.
She put the car in gear and revved the engine. “Let’s go then, and I hope you brought your stakes.”
CHAPTER SEVEN – EXHASTED
I fingered the bottle in my pocket. It had been a long night. Hell, it had been a long couple of weeks since Max disappeared. Max was my partner in more ways than just the detective agency. We had met when Ms. October teamed us together. Me, a newbie detective, and Max, having lived the gumshoe life for going on two years. We hit it off right away and soon we were sharing case details over wine and long walks on the beach – so to speak. Then, in the middle of finding details about the latest rash of murders down by the docks, Max disappeared. Fell right off the Earth. At first I thought he might be the latest body to wash up. I spent days trying to pick up his trail hoping against hope, I was wrong. Then, Ms. October herself stepped in and told me she would help me find him. She told me that there was no way in hell a great detective like Max was dead. We would find him.
Now two weeks and one very long night later I learn that Max is somehow mixed up with Jacob Cuba? I can’t take it. I can’t. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake to find this was all just a nightmare.
Max, please be safe.
Please.
CHAPTER EIGHT - STAR
“Pull the car over.” My voice was flat. Done. I wanted to be alone, not chasing some chicken voodoo queen’s wild visions. I wanted to do things my way for a bit.
Ms. October didn’t say a word. She brought the car to a smooth stop along a neon-lit and mostly abandoned street.
I got out. “I’ll be in touch. Call me if anything changes,” I said before closing the door and walking away.
The air was cool and damp, with a hint of wood smoke and rotting leaves. Denim-bruised clouds rushed over the bright ivory moon, so bright it made shadows in the dark. I took a deep breath and loosened my jaw while rolling my shoulders. I couldn’t control this situation, and being this tense wasn’t making anything better. It was a waste of energy, energy I needed to find Max.
I decided to hit up the Lone Star Bar, a place where all kinds of detectives and private eyes gathered to exchange dirt they found along the way. If I was going to pick up any faint trail, it would be there. Right off the bat I found another Max, Max Hunter, hanging out with a good friend of his, John Williamson. They were on another case and had nothing to offer except a beer and some brief company, which was actually comforting. Marcello Di Cintio was in the corner ripping apart a manuscript, literally. Pages were flying everywhere. He wasn’t a dick but he was a good man to go to for information, just not in this state. He was a little crazy when he was editing.
Finally I spotted Slither McDaniels, the greasiest private eye in the city. Slither, AKA Cynthia, would implement anything from bribes to extortion to get what she wanted. I even heard that she once used back alley dental surgery to get some poor sap to talk. If anyone had info, Slither would. I sidled up to her, whiskey sour in hand – her poison of choice.
“Hey Slither, got a minute?” I asked, holding out the drink.
“Not for vampire meat like you,” she replied, taking the drink anyway.
“So it’s true then?” I said, shuddering.
“Maybe. I got wind your Max was spotted with a very white crew, and I don’t mean the KKK.” She downed the drink in one go and indicated to the waitress that she wanted another.
I nodded then asked, “So he’s alive, huh?”
Slither laughed a boozy, smoke-ridden cackle. “Alive? Not as such. Moving about, yes.” She laid a hand on my shoulder. “I would walk away from this.” Slither grabbed and drank the new whiskey sour before the waitress even had a chance to pull it from her tray. “But you’re not going to – so maybe talk to Lysander, he’s been looking into Jacob Cuba and his gang for a while. If you don’t want to end up like Max or worse, you’re going to need all the help you can get.” She reached into her stained and cigarette burned plaid jacket and pulled out a dog eared card. It had only an address on it. No other information. Leave it to Slither to carry such things around.
“Thanks.” I nodded.
“Don’t thank me,” she replied, “I might be sealing your death. But good luck. I hope you find the boy. You two are cute together.”
CHAPTER NINE – PRECIOUS
I didn’t go and find Lysander, like Slither suggested. Instead I went home to my cold and barren apartment, turning on every yellow-bulbed lamp, just to make it feel like I wasn’t alone. The weird cracking echo of my voice off the walls reminded me I was, and besides, it felt crazy to call out, “I’m home!” when no one else was there. I flicked off the lights once more, stripped down, and crawled into bed. I would find Max, but after my head wasn’t spinning from exhaustion and too many beers.
I awoke to a silver sliver of dawn and Lysander’s large brown eyes taking up much of the view. “What? Huh?” I sputtered, yanking up the sheets to my chin.
“I heard you were looking for me.” Lysander unfolded to full height, a good six foot eight of elongation.
“I was. Or at least I was going to.”
“Huh, okay.” Lysander sat down on a chair, throwing the folded clothes it contained, at me. “Get dressed. I have a job we need to do first.”
This was why I hadn’t gone to Lysander. There was always something happening that needed attention. Usually something that needed fists too.
“Fine,” I breathed through clenched teeth, getting dressed and giving up what modicum of modesty I had left.
Lysander didn’t look so good. Left eye black. Nose cut at the bridge. Cheek bruised and swollen. Lysander got into more fights than anyone I knew, usually after being misgendered by some careless cretin who didn`t care to learn that THEY could be singular. As for Lysander, be it a suit cut and sewn to perfection, Lysander wasn’t a he. And if the gown was the most extravagant at the ball Lysander wasn’t a she. Lysander was, well, Lysander. They. And everyone could just damn well get their heads around it or suffer the two-fisted consequences.
“So, do you love him?” Lysander rubbed they’re chin with fingers as stretched and thin as the rest of their limbs.
“Who? Max?” I asked, staring down at the buttons of my fresh shirt, trying to match them up with the holes and not doing a great job of it.
“Yes. Is he precious to you, or . . .” Lysander stood.
“Or what?” I looked up, eyebrow raised.
“Is he just easy? First guy you got knocked together with. A no brainer. Just fall in with him and don’t make any effort to find out if he’s mister right.”
I thought about this. Was it true? Did I just think I was in love with Max because we happened so quickly and easily? I thought there was a spark, but . . . The hole in my heart answered for me. “Yes. He is precious to me.”
“Okay.” Lysander shrugged. “But we still gotta do this other job first.”
CHAPTER TEN – FLOWING
Lysander’s “job” was walking into an illegal fight ring to take on everyone because the biggest guy there had called them a dame, and laughed. His cronies too. So this vendetta had to be paid. This was the main, and really only, reason I didn’t like to be around Lysander. It usually had me limping out of a place, nose flowing red down my shirt and a few less brain cells between the both of us.
This time was no different.
Or so I thought until I saw a white-haired, pallid guy hanging around by the exit. Normally I would put it down to the fact that in this circle of hell, no one got out in the sun much. But with all the things happening lately, all I could think of was Max.
Back to back, our laboured breathing matching rattling intake for rattling intake, sweat soaking into the other’s blood, I panted, “I gotta go.”
Lysander locked their arm into mine. “I see him too. I’ll come with you. Just one more maneuver. Jump and kick when I move.”
I did as asked and Lysander used my half-leaping, half-running legs to take out the full rest of the circle of fighters prepared to beat us to a pulp in a move that would have made the Moscow Ballet jealous.
Then we were running, blood flowing out behind us in a spattering of droplets through the under-city tunnels, not hiding our path straight to the vampires.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – CRUEL
We were panting, Lysander and I, spiting up congealed blood from our lungs, lost in the underlair of the city.
“Max!” I bellowed, my voice echoing back to me like a gong.
“Shh,” came a slippery hiss from the sticky black beyond. “You’ll wake the dead.” The white haired man stepped out into the tepid light from a storm drain above, a chuckle hanging off his lips.
“Give me back Max,” I demanded, leaping forward.
Lysander, still shoulder to shoulder with me, stepped forward, fist at the ready. “Listen… um… what pronoun do you prefer?”
“He,” the man replied. “Thanks.”
“Listen, man!” Lysander continued. “My friend lost his friend and wants him back. Last seen hanging out with you lot. You know where he is?”
“Max, right?” the man asked. “I haven’t heard of him. There is a new guy though. A few actually. Maybe he’s one of them. I’m Mr. Mercury, by the way. On account of the silver hair I guess.”
“It’s more white to me, man,” Lysander observed.
“I don’t care. I don’t care!” I screamed. “Just take me to Max.”
“Why are you always so loud?”
It was a familiar voice out of the darkness. A warm voice turned cold, cruel, and heart wrenching.
“Max?”
“I guess,” It said. “I don’t feel much like Max right now. In fact,”
What had once been Max stepped out of the darkness, his copper skin now an undertone of blue, his piercing eyes scarlet, and his tousled brown hair, cropped short to stubble. “In fact,” he licked his lips, “I feel hungry.”
CHAPTER TWELVE – WHALE
“We’re in the belly of the whale now,” Lysander growled, as more and more red eyes appeared in the bleak light making it obvious they had an army on their side. A hungry army as tongues darted and mouths snapped.
“Max! Think about what you’re doing. It’s me!” I hated how screechy my voice had become, how my chest ached, how my legs were a last-move Jenga tower.
“It’s me!” Max trembled in a falsetto. Then he laughed. “It’s the man who glommed onto me as soon as we were partnered up. Who automatically liked everything I liked, without fail –”
“But I do!” I protested. “I love funny movies with talking animals, and sitting on park benches to watch the city lights come on. I love it when we crack clues together, and how you always pack peanut butter to put on your hotdogs. Come on! Max! I’ve never met someone as perfect for me as you. I thought I was – ”
“Easily replaceable by a dog, and it would be less annoying,” Max bit.
“See,” Lysander turned to me, “this is what I was saying. You only like him because it’s-”
“Shut up!” I stepped forward. “Max, this isn’t you.”
Max shook his head, a grotesque smile of sharp fangs. “This is more me than ever before.”
“Max.” Vision welling, I stared at him. The man I wanted to spend my days and nights with, forever.
His right hand twitched, then he walked over to meet me, lifting my chin with his index finger. “One good thing, you look after yourself. You’ll be the healthiest thing I’ve eaten in a while.”
I closed my eyes. Having his icy finger on my skin, no matter how he was now, was better than not having him at all. I was ready, to die, or whatever came next.
Knuckles cracked my jaw and sent me spinning. “Snap out of it!” Lysander roared standing over me, my blood on his fist. He hauled me up and dragged me into the tunnels. “Run!”
Max’s laughter raced after us, followed quickly by the red-eyed swarm jaws snapping as they came.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – GUARDED
“Just leave me, leave me. I don’t care anymore,” I begged while Lysander dragged through the tunnel system, hoping for an exit.
“I don’t care if you care,” they snapped. “I don’t want either one of us to become vamp food.” He yanked me around another corner. “Besides, Ms. October would end me if I lost you.”
Ms. October.
It was her name that snapped my brain back into place. For all my heartache over Max, she would have lost two of her agents if I died. Another tick in the column of agents she didn’t make it to in time – I couldn’t put her through that. Not on purpose.
I stopped dragging my feet and ran, arms pumping. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
“Too little, too late,” came Mr. Mercury’s shiny, quick moving voice as he stepped out of a side corridor in front of us.
Lysander skidded to a halt, wrenching me back with him.
The passage filled with snapping, salivating, vampire beasts behind him. They didn’t look like Mr. Mercury or Max, with their smooth waxy skin and bright, if crimson, eyes. These looked more like animals, slobbering and growling in vacant single-minded hunger. Still they waited, as if trained, while Mr. Mercury stood brushing lint from the black silk sleeve of his suit.
“So?” he asked, eyes piercing my own. “Did you get what you wanted? Are you done?”
“Maybe,” I replied, guarded, trying to keep my true fretfulness from crowding my intentions. “But I’m still not convinced that this isn’t some ruse to get rid of me. You, or that boss of yours, have done something to him.”
Eye brow raised, Mr. Mercury chuckled. “I didn’t do anything. Maybe he’s just not that into you.”
“He has a point,” Lysander joined. “I mean he did say –”
“Shut up!” I snapped.
Mr. Mercury sighed. “Fine. Be hard headed. How about I propose a little deal and let you go. My army won’t like it . . .”
The bestial army growled and chomped the air, barely contained.
“But if it shuts you up and makes you go away, then that would be a win in my book.”
“Fine.” I nodded, “A deal. What is it?”
CHAPTER 14 – CLOCK
A moaning wind blew through my ribcage, wending between organs, biting at my soul. Waiting was agonizing. The meeting had been set for midnight. Of course. Leave it up to Jacob Cuba to stick to the cliché.
I paced.
Lysander growled. “Stop doing that! It won’t make the clock move any faster.” They patted the couch. “Come, have a tea. You’ll feel better.”
“I can’t.” I stopped in front of the window watching the blue-grey clouds fly past, muted by lamp light. “I can’t do anything until I see him.”
“There you go again,” Lysander fumed.
“What?”
“Assuming gender. You haven’t even asked.”
I frowned, turning to stare at Lysander, a folded stick bug of a person sitting on my couch. “I think it’s pretty well known that Cuba’s a he.”
“You think,” Lysander chastised. “But you don’t know. I’ve never seen you ask. Not once.” They stood, unfolding and towering above me. “Why is it always up to us non-binary people to do all the asking? Why can’t you cis folks do some too? Share the workload? Huh?”
I furrowed my eyebrows. They had a point. A point that really didn’t fit in with my current thoughts or emotions, but still, a valid point.
“Okay,” I nodded. “Fine. I’ll start asking and not be such a dick about it.”
“Oh,” Lysander smiled, “you can be a dick – but keep it to the P.I. kind. Next we have to get the other seven billion or so people on the planet to do it too.”
“Might be a tall order,” I laughed.
Lysander winked. “No taller than meeting with Jacob Cuba and walking out alive and still human.” They tipped their head to the clock. “We should go.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – WEAK
“You can go.”
Lysander towered beside me in front of the dockside warehouse. The same warehouse Max likely came two weeks before. Even if this worked, I knew I didn’t have much hope of getting him back. Not in mind anyway, or in body for that matter, and I didn’t need to take Lysander down with me.
Lysander lowered their eyes to meet mine. “I heard you had a plan. You think I want to miss seeing that? The first ever plan to work on Jacob Cuba?”
“You have a lot of faith.” Still, I smiled. Glad I didn’t have to walk into this alone.
My fist pounded the door and it creaked open as if never really shut. I hovered at the edge of the complete blackness, fumbling for my cellphone flashlight app. Lysander strode in as if not knowing where they were going wasn’t something to worry about.
A steel-cold hand wrapped around mine and crushed both it and the cellphone I held, then disappeared as quickly. I screamed in pain as darkness once more swirled around us.
“Jacob Cuba!” I called out, cradling my damaged appendage, figuring on at least six broken bones. “You agreed to this meeting. Come out!”
A slithering, vaporous hissing emanated from the gloom. “I’m here. As are you. So speak.”
“I can’t see you!”
“But I can see you,” the hiss continued.
“This isn’t fair!” I protested.
Lysander’s knuckles cracked in the blackness.
“Fair?” Cuba asked. “What difference is light to fairness? You will speak, then you will die. Or be transformed. As is my will.”
I heard Lysander’s heavy stomp before they shouted. “Just turn on the light and stop jerking my friend around. Or I’ll follow your voice and beat the crap out of you until you shut up.”
Cuba’s hiss turned into a chuckle, the kind that was all hard edges and hollow in the middle. The kind that made you know that no one was actually enjoying the moment. The kind that was the last sound anyone heard. “You are weak,” Cuba threw back.
“I’m strong enough to break your jaw,” Lysander snarled. “And I’d at least go out doing what I loved, kicking vampire ass.”
“Fine,” the hiss that was Jacob Cuba said, sounding somewhat more irritated than expected. “In the spirit of fairness I will light the surroundings. But I’m warning you now, this won’t help you. If you want to escape, you should try now.”
I took a small step back, my legs moving against my will, but the sound of the beasts snapping their jaws in the street behind us moved me forward once more. I clenched my hands. Steeled myself against my vibrating nerves. Hardened my chin. “Light it up, Cuba. Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – ANGULAR
A low drone followed by a sharp click and bang and the warehouse lights slammed on, harsh and white from far above in the rafters. They sent long angular shadows to chase away the pitch and made me blink and squint.
Cuba didn’t appear to be phased by it at all, standing there unblinking, while Lysander tried, through narrowed eyes, to stare him down.
This was my first time seeing Jacob Cuba, and for all I’d heard, he was even more than that. The Vampire Lord stood taller than Lysander by a good number of inches. But unlike Lysander, he was wide at the shoulders, sinuous, and dangerously insidious. He had skin so pale it appeared to give off its own light. His eyes were crimson with long black lashes. He had likely been handsome as a human, now he was corrupted, demonic. Hair coal-dust coloured and shoulder-length, curling just so – as to create the appearance of horns. His face stretched, thin, and ropey, with lines around the mouth caused not by aging but by extensive opening as a snake swallowing its prey whole. Cuba’s hands were wide, long fingered, and long nailed, blackened and dull as one lying ages in a grave. There was a smell of rot about him too. Dirt, old blood, and rust wafted as he strode towards me, stopping just out of striking range.
“You think you’re brave,” he hissed. “Smart?”
“Sure.” I shrugged, not feeling either.
“You are none of those things.” He opened his mouth enough to show off his impressive teeth, shiny and sharp. “You want what I’ve rightfully taken.”
“You can’t rightfully take a human,” I argued.
“Do you tell an anteater they can’t take an ant?” Cuba countered.
“Give me Max!”
“This Max?” he crooked his finger towards a long shadow in the corner.
Max stepped out. Hanging back. Distant. His right hand twitched before it found his pocket. I wanted to run to him. Grab him and drag him away. Willing or not. My legs tensed. Cuba was on me before my brain even comprehended he had moved. Teeth dug into my neck, not yet breaking the skin. Hand clamped to the back of my neck.
“What will you give me?” Cuba hissed in my ear.
“Me!” Lysander shot out. “Max for me!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – SWOLLEN
“No!” I shouted, yanking back in Cuba’s grip. “Lysander! No!”
“It’s simple,” Lysander replied. “Ms. October gets everyone back. You and Max. What other way is there? That was always the plan.”
Cuba’s grasp was a straight jacket, tying me up and forcing me still, even as I fought. “It was never the plan!” I protested.
“You’re plan was stupid. Reasoning with this monster?” Lysander flicked their fingers at Cuba. “Never going to work.”
Nails dug into my neck as Cuba’s breath came fast. “Monster?” he hissed. “I don’t think you know monsters.” Cuba flung me aside, the force causing me to rag-doll tumble away from him into the wall next to the door.
Lysander strode straight at Cuba, fists taught at their side, leaning forward, ready to fight. “Oh I know monsters,” they said as they picked up speed. “I am one, and I love blood as much as you do. The only difference, I like outside my body. Let’s go!”
Lysander swung. Cuba dodged with speed that made the eyes blur. Lysander swung again, twice. Not expecting the second attack, Cuba was surprised by a crack to his blue-white jaw, spilling think black ooze from his lower lip. Cuba spun, appearing to suck into a point in the air and then expand in ribbon like smoke which darted behind Lysander, turning back into a manlike creature just as his claws embedded into Lysander’s shoulders, pinning them and a frozen, paralyzed trance. Lysander’s face fixed towards the ceiling. Their eyes wide and unblinking. Mouth open in a silent scream of rage and panic.
I tried to stand, to help, but found my legs jellied, and weak. Fear held me fast. Burned my heart in my chest. Stuck my breath in my throat.
“Max!” Cuba bellowed.
Max sauntered over from his place in the corner. He lay his hand on Lysander’s neck, stroking it, as if encouraging the blood to the surface. With his other hand, he forced Lysander’s eyes shut. Finally he cradled Lysander’s head, stretching their neck, before biting with an audible crunch of skin splitting beneath teeth.
I tried and failed to turn my head. To stop watching while Lysander grew emaciated, cheeks sucking to bone and Max became swollen with Lysander’s life essence.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – BOTTLE
I don’t recall everything of how I got out of there, I do remember running, blinded by tears drowning my eyes, Mr. Mercury’s blurry form pushing me onto Lysander’s motorcycle, the snapping bestial hoard sent to hunt me fading into the distance.
It was a half a city later, when I was well away from the docks, that I crashed the bike, sliding into a parked car at the mouth of an alley while electric guitar rattled from behind the chipped metal door. I stumbled into the shadows and pulled out the bottle Madame Morre had given me. If ever there was a time “when all hope was lost”, this was it. I hovered over the bottle, tepid glass pressed against my wind-burnt lips. Lysander was dead. Max was a vampire. The world was dark and only growing darker. A decision had to be made and I was seven eighths of the way there. The wafting almonds reminded me of grandma’s kitchen in all its lemon-yellow glory. There was never going to be any of that again. Not in this world anyway. I tipped my arm, the liquid down the bottom of the dark brown bottle sliding its way towards my lips.
“Oh, honey,” Ms. October crooned from the darkness. “Don’t do that. The world ain’t that bad.” High heels splashed percussion on the alley’s damp bottom, even as her finger wrapped around my wrist. Cocoa eyes staring, she waited for me to comply. Her touch giving me more comfort than I think she even knew. I let the bottle drop, all its toxic liquid mixing with the equally contaminated sludge on the ground.
“Time to go, Zero,” she said. “You can’t hang out here all night. We have work to do.” She kissed my forehead and smiled, her lips betraying her sorrow. “Why do you always have to take everything so hard?” Black gloved fingers interlocked with my frost bitten red ones, she squeezed. “We are going to make those blood suckers pay. That I promise. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN – SCORCHED
“How did you find me?” I asked, righting Lysander’s motorcycle.
Ms. October winked. “I got a call. They told me where you were. I managed to see you driving off and followed.”
“Who?” I asked, “Who was around to tell you. The last person to see me was . . .” My voice trailed away as Mr. Mercury stumbled out of the night and crumpled against the nearby light post.
He was a wreck. Silk suit torn into streamers of chaos, inky ooze dripping from long gashes, and the right side of his face scorched to the bone in a pattern of narrow black concentric circles. He grimaced, clutching his side, and stumbled forward.
“Mercury!” I ran to him, afraid he would collapse at any moment, and supported his weight. He was lighter than I estimated. “Did Cuba do this to you?”
“I guess he didn’t take kindly to my letting you go,” Mr. Mercury said, his voice cracking. “Made me get up close and personal with a stovetop, then set the horde on me. Fair, given I’ve deprived them of your flesh twice now.”
“I’m sorry.” I helped him over to Lysander’s bike and lowered him to the seat. “Rest.”
He nodded. “I’ll be fine in no time. We heal faster than you mortals.”
Ms. October fanned her fingers over her hip, thrusting it out with the statement, “None of that explains what you’re up to.” She raised her eyebrows. “Care to fill us in?”
“An exchange,” Mr. Mercury proposed, his cockiness clawing its way through his pain. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know. You help me take down Cuba.” He smiled, his pointed teeth glowing in the yellow lamp light. “For good.”
CHAPTER 20 – BREAKABLE
After a long and winding explanation by Mr. Mercury, it turned out vampires were breakable. It just took a lot to break them. More than most humans could accomplish. Luckily we had a non-human on our side.
“So let me get this straight.” Ms. October pursed her lips and applied maroon lipstick with a darting twist of her wrist before snapping the tube shut and slipping it in her pocket. “Cuba is the one killing dock workers so he can control the port and get his hands on the boatloads of illegal immigrants sneaking in – ”
“Many of whom he’s arranged transport for –” Mr. Mercury amended.
“So he can use his vampire power to turn them into that demon horde that attacked me,” I finished.
“Was going to,” Mr. Mercury smiled. “I stopped them.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“But why?” Ms. October asked.
“Why, what?” Mr. Mercury responded. “Why is Cuba doing this?”
“No. I know why Cuba’s doing this. It’s an obvious power play. One I don’t care about right now. What I want to know is,” Ms. October poked her finger into one of Mr. Mercury’s deep gashes – now healing but still not closed – and twisted.
He winced and snarled.
“Why did you stop the horde from killing Zero? What do you want? What’s in it for you?”
Mr. Mercury stood, pushing Ms. October away and walking to me, burnt flesh and dank grave dirt following his every move. “I want to be free. Cuba has controlled me from the minute he created me. He will control me for the rest of eternity if I don’t do something. I don’t want to control humanity. I want to just live amongst them. Enjoy what this world has to offer. War isn’t enjoyment, it’s just carnage.”
“Okay, so you want to stop this war. Be the hero maybe? But why Zero here? What use is he to you?”
Mercury clamped his clawed hand onto my shoulder, squeezing hard. “Zero isn’t afraid. And he should be. I need that. I need him. Besides, I think I can use him to get rid of Cuba’s newest right hand man.”
“Max?” I whispered.
“And how will you use him?” Ms. October asked, eyes narrowing.
“I will make him to become something more, something stronger.” Mr. Mercury bared his teeth, his voice exiting in a violent hiss. “A vampire hybrid.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – DRAIN
I kept my eyes locked on the moon and the lilac-grey clouds sweeping past it. Mr. Mercury’s arms locked me to his body, breath held in my chest, heart scrambling against fear. He said nothing, hand stroking my neck, encouraging blood to the skin’s surface. I wanted to break free, to run, the stop this madness, but he forced me to my promise, clutched my trembling chest against his own.
“Are you sure?” Ms. October’s words drifted from the distance.
I nodded, my head not moving at all. “Yes,” I choked out.
As afraid as I was. As unsure. Mr. Mercury had swore this was the only way to save Max. To save humanity. To save the last scrap of dignity I had after running away and leaving Lysander’s body behind.
“Oh, honey,” Ms. October moaned.
Mr. Mercury drew me in, opened his mouth wide, icy breath swirling over my skin. Then the bite. Sharper, much more painful than I expected. The crunch of skin snapping. The slice of ivory entering my vein. The salty-metallic blood as it pooled only to be sucked up by this vampire.
I gasped as my blood drained.
Legs shaking, eyes rolled back, mind swimming in the blowing wind and nearby traffic, Mr. Mercury finally released me, leaning me against the lamp post.
“Now your turn,” he said. He rolled up his ruined sleeve and bit into his own wrist, releasing the black ooze that made up his own blood. Arm up in the air, he let the sticky liquid ooze in a thin viscous tendril while his other hand forced my head back, long fingers holding my mouth open.
The blood tasted like death. Like cigarette-ashes and old tire-dirt. Like India ink in an old well covered in cobwebs. Like a hospital morgue filled with bodies and formaldehyde.
I choked and coughed.
And then the pains came.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – EXPENSIVE
“Ahh, look who darkens my door,” Madame Morre cackled rubbing her knobby fingers together, silver nails clacking along with her bone jewelry. “I see a transformation. An expensive one at that. Hmmm. You fall deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole, don’t you boy?” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room, the dragon’s-blood smoke more dense than the last time we visited.
I still felt woozy, disoriented. My senses weren’t my own. It was like being outside myself. I could feel every breeze, hear every rustle, but not on my skin. More like having cat whiskers, I knew. Knew so much my mind could barely take it all in.
“You’re cold. Grave cold.” Madame Morre clicked her tongue as she ran her hand up my arm and onto my neck.
“So, do you have the stuff we need?” Ms. October growled, her fingers pressed against the door frame.
“No.” Madame Morre shook her head. “No. You used up the last batch, as well you know.”
“That was years ago,” Ms. October bit.
“Not often one of the vamps leaves someone half and half,” Madame Morre bit back.
I spun, breaking free, shouting. “Wait! Are you . . .”
Mr. Mercury chuckled. He was very nearly healed after draining me of my blood. It filled me both with burning awe and biting rage. He nodded to Ms. October, catching my eye as he did so. “This woman is a Pandora’s box of secrets. You start unraveling them and you might never get your mind back.”
Madame Morre bobbed in agreement. “You don’t know this child. She’s been through the lot and then some. Come through most of it with my help too. Ungrateful little –”
Ms. October snapped her fingers and strode into the room, pointing at Madame Morre. “I’m no more ungrateful than you are at fault. And you,” she leaned into Mr. Mercury. “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, you’ll find that it’s no longer part of your body.” She glared from one to the other. “Anyone want to try my temper right now? Because my friend Zero just gave his life for this stupid plan and my friend Max is neck deep in trouble, so I’m just itching for a fight.” Ms. October strode up to Madame Morre, making her take a couple of quick steps back. “Now give us what we came for and make it snappy, woman, we have a vampire lord to vanquish and the night isn’t going to last forever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – MUDDY
Eyebrow raised, Mr. Mercury peered at the muddy orange liquid Madame Morre had given me. Three thin clear bottles each stoppered with a cork. “So,” he said, “that stops the process huh?”
“Yeah,” I replied, not succeeding in keeping the bitterness out of my tone. “You didn’t tell me that this hybrid vampire state eventually stopped when I became full vampire.”
Mr. Mercury shrugged, “You didn’t ask. Besides, would you have done it if you had known?”
I shook my head.
“Well, there you go.” He slapped my back. “At least I didn’t make you into a full vampire right off the bat. You have a while before you turn.” He squeezed my bicep. “But you’re nowhere near that yet. Still quite human. Too much human to be of much use. Hopefully that changes soon.”
“Hhh,” I sneered.
“Anyway, you don’t need three of those potions. She said one would do, so why have so many?”
“For Lysander,” I answered, “and Max.”
“Your Lysander is dead.” Mr. Mercury stated flippantly. “And Max . . . likely or not he’s too far gone. You’ll probably have to kill him if you want to free him.”
It was so fast I didn’t even see my hand snapping onto Mercury’s throat, squeezing until my nails, rapidly growing and pointed, broke the skin.
Mr. Mercury gasped, then evaporated into ribbonous tendrils of smoke, reappearing a ways off and rubbing his neck. “I’m hurt. I thought we were friends.”
“Enough!” Ms. October barked, finally exiting Madame Morre’s and sliding into her car. “Time to take down Jacob Cuba. Once we’re done that, we get Max,” she said, nodding to me.
“And Lysander,” I whispered.
“If they’re not dead, yes,” she nodded. “Ready?”
Mr. Mercury cracked his knuckles. “Oh, I’ve been ready for a hundred years. Let’s ride!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – CHOP
“Here?” I asked, incredulous. The place was nowhere near the dock. Instead we were in the meat packing district with its distinctive pungent scent of raw flesh and curdled blood wafting through bleach ridden air. “Are you jacking us around?”
“No.” Mr. Mercury stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. “We’ve owned this forever. We’re only just breaking into the docks . . . and the rest of the city,” he muttered. “Damn, I hear them already.”
“The hoard,” Ms. October spat. “Sounds like Cuba’s been busy. At least a thousand, maybe more. Damn.”
“I don’t care about them. I only want to find Max and Lysander,” I growled, entirely focused on the heavy metal door to the warehouse.
“Well you better care, honey,” Ms. October said, pulling a sword from her car, its metal glinting moonlight. “Those things are between us and your beloved. You want him, you have to beat them.”
It was at that point a crash reverberated, metal smashed brick, and thousands of mouths filled with sharpened fangs poured from the building as if a liquid. They came from the roof, the alley, and the door. Calming the gripping panic overtaking me, I found that I could see their movements in slow motion, giving me enough time to punch, scratch and break necks, soon finding that breaking spines stopped the beasts flat.
Even after smashing one after another until ragged breath and coughing lungs disrupted my fight, they just kept coming. I could do this all night and never have it end. Besides, I realized, this battle was a distraction not my objective, no matter what I’d been told.
It didn’t help that to man who had directed me to do this work was nowhere to be seen. My anger rose. Heart pumped.
No more!
I rushed the door, throwing the hoard this way and that. Black sticky blood covered my hands and arms, the stench soon over powering the meat. “Max!” I yelled, “Max!”
“He’s not here, dummy!” Mr. Mercury called, pinned as he was to a cutting table, smashing a chopping block over the heads of the snapping beasts.
“You said –”
“I said I wasn’t jacking you around,” he breathed, grunting. “And I’m not.” He flung another beast into the wall, splitting his head in a spray of black ooze. “Come on!”
I grabbed up a cleaver from the knife rack nearby and hacked my way to him. “Where? And to do what?”
Ms. October skidded in, her eye gleaming with an enjoyment I found worrying. “Cuba’s not here,” she said. “But, we need to kill the source, am I right.”
Mr. Mercury nodded, smashing another beast out of his way and sprinting for another door. “You’re not as slow as I was led to believe. This is step one of my three step plan.” He yanked open the door and plowed through the increasing hoard, the gashes on his body growing, the deeper he got into the fray. “Come on. Maybe one of us will make it out of here alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – PRICKLY
Monster after monster slashed and bit, and attack after hissing attack, I got faster and faster. My senses honed in, the air swirled before each of their movements. I could predict what was coming and counter it. The clever I wielded hacked jaws from faces, and heads from necks as my muscles knotted and grew. It wasn’t long before the hoard thinned and Mr. Mercury led us down the stairs unhindered.
It was many floors of darkness, our boots drumming the decaying wooden steps. I found I could see well enough in this sickly light, feel the environment, its hard edges pressing on my senses. Then the static came.
“What’s that?” I whispered, rubbing my arm as yet another wooden tread creaked and shifted.
“The source,” Mr. Mercury replied, unhelpfully.
“The source of what? What’s going on with the air?” The prickly sensation was getting worse, like acupuncture needles all over my skin, sharp and irritating.
Ms. October growled. “It’s the source of these damn beasts. The one who made them?”
“I thought Cuba made them.”
“Yes and no,” Mr. Mercury illuminated.
“Huh?” I said, halting on the stairs and gripping the handrail hard. “Explain. Now. Or I’m not going any further.” The prickling had turned to a cloud of drifting embers making me wince.
“Listen,” Ms. October said. “There are three kinds of vampires. The beasts – which are made by draining a human then giving them a small amount of blood from a contaminated vampire.”
“The source,” I said.
“Yes.”
“How did the source get made?” I asked
“They’re a human who was allergic to vampire blood. It’s very rare,” Mr. Mercury snarled. “Can we go now?”
“And if we kill the source?” I continued.
“The beasts all fall. It’s like a river. Damn the source and the rest dries up,” Ms. October clarified.
“That sounds ridiculous, but fine.”
“So we can go, right?” Mr. Mercury grabbed my arm.
“What are the other two kinds of vampires?” I asked, not giving up.
Ms. October continued. “The hybrid vampires, who are like you.”
“And you,” I said.
“And me,” she replied. “We get a half exchange, the vampire drinks our blood and give us a portion of theirs. The change is slow and with the right measures, one can resume a mostly human life.”
“The last?”
“That’s me!” Mr. Mercury crowed. “Full exchange, or very nearly. I got drained and a lot of vampire blood was put into me. Not enough to kill my maker but enough to make me shed all my humanity in a night. It’s violent, brutal, and brilliant.”
“So,” I continued. “Jacob Cuba is a full vampire, like you.”
“Oh no,” Mr. Mercury said, his voice becoming dark and low. “Jacob Cuba is something else. He has more power than any of us. He is the master of all vampires.”
“How did that happen?” I whispered, not sure I wanted to know.
“When he was being turned he didn’t let go when he was supposed to. Instead he drank all the blood from his maker – the old master of vampires, then he snapped her neck and burned her in the sun before spreading her ash around the world. He took all her power and then some. He’s dangerous and deadly and insane.”
“But not unstoppable,” Ms. October finished. “Not if we take out his army. So get marching. We do this and then we can find Max.”
I turned and returned to my descent, wiser, but not at all ready for what lay ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – STRETCH
The air was alive with static. Snapping electricity which danced over my skin like thousands of tiny elastic bands being flicked by a horrible child. My skin burned, my eyes narrowed, I followed Mr. Mercury down, down, down until the buzzing ate every sense and I became numb to the world around me.
Then my foot hit solid ground.
I couldn’t even guess how far under the city we were. It could have been miles. What air there was, was dry and sulphurous. I opened my eyes against the pain and found I was using my new vampire senses. It was pitch and yet I knew all that was around me. It wasn’t sight so much as all my other senses stretching to fill in the gaps lending to a perfect picture.
That picture was of a skeletal horror of a man chained to a chair, a multitude of tubes stuck into him, draining his life blood from his veins and transferring it to drips crashing and reverberating their way into metal buckets below. He wasn’t moving and he wasn’t running dry.
“Is he dead?” I asked.
“No. He can’t die. Not this way.” Mr. Mercury grunted against the pain.
“The source.” Ms. October clicked her tongue. “I would have thought there would be guards.”
“Who could stand this?” Mr. Mercury asked. “They would die in an hour. They only come down to collect, so as long as we’re between pickups, we have the place to ourselves. Now kill him.”
“With pleasure,” Ms. October nodded. She raised her sword and brought it down. Instead wet, parting flesh, a clang interrupted her slice.
“Not so fast, October. You aren’t planning on depriving us of our army,” Max asked, his own sword holding Ms. October’s back just above the Source’s neck.
“Max!” Ms. October growled. “Fight it, boy. Don’t let it take you.” She pushed his sword away and went in for the kill again.
Once more Max stopped her, sparks flashing from the blades. Fireworks in the dark. “We will never let the source die!”
The Source screamed out a long and tortured howl, the horrific man’s face twisting in agony. The vibrations in the air redoubled. It was all any of us could do to stand.
“Max, you bastard, get out of the way,” Mr. Mercury snarled, leaping over Ms. October and tackling Max to the ground. Ms. October raised her sword once more, when a flash of white flew by and whisked her away, her curses fading into the darkness.
The Source stretched his emaciated hand towards me, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth empty of teeth. “Die,” he cried. “Let me . . .”
I swung my clever into his neck cutting through his throat and chopping my way through his spine. Thick liquid sprayed into the air and erupted onto the floor. The buzzing ceased. My head cleared.
Max wailed. “What have you done? What have you done?” He dropped his sword and ran to me, balling the fabric of my shirt in his fist, icy breath on my cheek. “You idiot! Now we’re all going to die.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – THUNDER
A shriek echoed through the cavern making both my and Max’s eyes widen. “Ms. October,” we both yelled.
Max let go and flew towards the sound, me at his heels.
His look. His tone. Maybe Max was in there still after all. Maybe all wasn’t lost yet. My Max, who always woke up late on Sundays and padded into the kitchen begging for waffles at noon. My Max who insisted on going to the cat café with every new batch of kittens even though he was beyond allergic. My Max who whispered how much he loved me every time his lips passed my ear, who grabbed my left hand in his right. Who . . . It was then I remembered the tremble, the twitch, every time he did something horrendous in this new vampire form his right hand flicked. Was he trying to tell me something? Or was I reading too much into it, making a story that wasn’t there?
We ran, step for step, through a narrow passage as it turned into a bricked tunnel lit by dim and yellowed lights which buzzed and whined. There against the wall Ms. October struggled, Lysander pinning her by her throat, their bone-white fingers curled tight around her neck.
“Lysander!” I called.
They turned their face to me, eyes scarlet, teeth long and dangerous. They were no half vampire waiting to turn. They were full blood sucker, and Ms. October knew it. She kicked and punched, to no avail. But Lysander did nothing more than stand, holding her, as if waiting further orders.
A crash of thunder shook the passage. Small rocks rained down on our heads. The air plumed with chalky, salty, dust. Lights flickered. A rustle of wings and a ribbon of smoke swirled into the space and coagulated into the form of Jacob Cuba.
I pushed past Max, anger filling me to the point of explosion. “You bastard. You took Max, and now you do this to Lysander!” I raised my clever, its blade dark with blood. “I’m taking you out Cuba, and nothing you do is going to stop me!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – GIFT
Jacob Cuba stared at me, a low hiss issuing from somewhere within, predatory and dangerous. His eyes narrowed and long black eyelashes blinked. He sneered, his upper lip exposing long ivory fangs. He tensed, eyes widening, like a cat before the strike. I readied in response, leaning forward.
This was it.
The movement was so fast my eyes saw but my brain wasn’t able to take it in, even with my new vampiric powers, the speed was incredible. The vampire lord struck, or was about to, but came up short as Lysander, Ms. October still writhing in their grasp, darted between us.
“My Lord,” they bowed. “I have a gift for you.” They smiled and thrust Ms. October towards Cuba.
I felt Max tense behind me.
Jacob Cuba let go a low grow that rumbled through my bones and into my ears. “Fine. A gift. From my newest recruit.” He nodded to Lysander but looked directly at me. “Another to add to my army.”
“You lay one tooth on me, fang-boy, and I’ll tear you limb from limb when I turn full vamp!” Ms. October shouted, very nearly landing a kick on Jacob Cuba.
“I see.” Jacob Cuba grabbed her snarling, spitting face in his elongated hand and leaned in to her. “You think you will have control over your will, your senses, when I turn you?” He pulled her chin up, stretching her neck taut.
“You tried once, and failed,” Ms. October choked.
“And yet I learn,” returned Cuba. “And apparently, you don’t.”
His mouth opened wide as a chasm, teeth extending forward. I ran, clever already slicing the air. Cuba caught the blade mid-swing and snapped the blade in half while simultaneously biting Ms. October’s neck with a crisp crunch.
Lysander let go of my mentor and friend, grabbed my now limp arm, and yanked me over to Max. I had no more fight as I watched Ms. October’s eyes roll back, her body collapse into Jacob Cuba’s arms, her skin go grey.
And then, thick black ooze snaking from newly made wound in his breast, created by his long rotten fingernail, he pulled Ms. October to his skin to feed, his tongue licking his lips as he did so.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE – DOUBLE
Jacob Cuba yanked Ms. October from his skin and flung her away. She stumbled, collapsing into a trembling ball, one knee on the ground, her arms around the other one. Head down. I tried to run to her but Lysander held me firm next to Max. They both eyed me, lips curling back, teeth bared.
I leaned away, heart racing, arms not near strong enough to deal with two vampires, one fully turned. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held my breath, hoping for some kind of relief, or at least a quick end.
Familiar lips flicked my ear, hissing, “Did you bring the stuff?”
I cracked open my eyes. Lysander and Max were both as close as it was physically possible to be. “Stuff?” I whispered back.
“Yes,” Max said, eyes darting towards Cuba. “Ms. October should have sent it with you. That was the plan anyway.”
“Plan?” I asked dumbly, a tingling numbness flowing over my body.
“Yes,” Max insisted. “I’m a double agent, but not for long if I don’t get the stuff. Now do you have it or not?” He growled, frustration edging his words as I continued to stand there. “Darling, I love you, but you can be such crap under pressure.”
Regaining composure, I ran my fingers over my pocket, feeling for the tubes of muddy liquid. “I have them.”
Max smiled, for real this time and my heart gave a healthy squeeze.
“Good man,” he said. “Now, get them out without anyone . . .”
I didn’t hear the end of the sentence. A screech like metal on metal cleaved the air and Mr. Mercury flew, claws out, landing on Jacob Cuba. In the hissing, biting, slashing, smoky battle that ensued, I pulled out the vials, handing one to Max and the other to Lysander, before uncorking my own.
CHAPTER THIRTY – JOLT
Inky sticky blood splattered the floor. The hissing grew to the scream of a kettle left too long on a burner. Mr. Mercury lashed out with claws and teeth while Jacob Cuba materialized in and out - smoke, then corrupted man, then swirling smoke once more. Each time Mercury managed to catch him, slicing and clawing the Vampire Lord more than before. Their breathing was heavy. Two ancient fighters with far too much hate to stop even when exhausted.
Finally, Mr. Mercury stuck his hand into the middle of the swirling black mass of smoke, claws gripping air.
“He’s going to do it,” Max whispered, vial of muddy orange potion quaking in his grip. “He’s really going to kill Cuba.”
It was all I could do to not uncork the vial then and there and shove it down Max’s throat. I didn’t care about Cuba or Mercury. I wanted my family back. Max and Lysander and the slowly rising Ms. October.
Mr. Mercury’s entire body was in a state of focus. His eyes glared at the epicentre of the swirling mass around his hand. As soon as it materialized, he would rip out Cuba’s heart and likely eat it, that much was obvious. This had been all he wanted. To take the empire. To become Vampire Lord himself, and we had all been his pawns. He didn’t know Max was a double agent. As far as he was concerned Max was Cuba’s right hand man and I was the distraction to keep him busy. If I died doing it, well that was no concern to Mercury. And who knew if he even wanted a peaceful, harmonious, human-friendly vampire life? Not that it mattered. Cuba was insane as demonstrated by his army of migrant-made monsters. He had to go down, and right now Mr. Mercury was the blunt tool who could make it happen.
The smoke swirled, sending forth acrid brimstone and sweet burning wire. My nose wrinkled even as I watched intently, as focused as Mr. Mercury waiting for that perfect moment. It was only at the last second I realized it wasn’t the centre which was becoming solid. A long arm, far away from the centre, firmed and solidified. It’s barely formed hand struck, claws extended. An electric jolt appeared to shake Mercury’s body, like lightning had struck. Followed closely by a wet rip and rending suction. Then twin thumps, one of Mr. Mercury’s body falling to the ground and the other of his head smacking the wall on the other side of the room.
Jacob Cuba regained his form quickly after that, his face and neck already healing at a rapid pace. He looked at all of us, a sneering grin stretching his mouth in a hiss. “So you thought you could defeat me?” He stepped over Mr. Mercury’s already denigrating body as it crumbled to ash. “You, Max? I thought I could trust. But I guess there’s none of that to be had anymore. Lesson learned. And you.” He pointed at me with his long, blood covered finger. “Never one to give up on love, huh? Well now you two can die together. It will be a Shakespearean tragedy that no one will ever hear.”
He darted his eyes from Lysander to Ms. October. Both hadn’t moved since the defeat. Neither showed emotion or even much signs of life.
Cuba dusted off his jacket, smoothing it with his long fingered hands, ignoring the blood he trailed behind on the fabric. “You may have taken my army. You may have tried kill me. But here I still stand and I am not without minions to fight for me. Even if this woman is a mindless slave.” He flicked his finger at Ms. October. “And that man is not much better.” He nodded to Lysander.
Lysander stiffened.
Max and I both stepped back.
“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?” Lysander bellowed, thrusting the vial back into my hands, their formerly snowy face now as red as their eyes.
Jacob Cuba blinked.
“DID YOU JUST CALL ME — A MAN?” Lysander shoved their suit sleeves up, fists already clenching.
Cuba darted his eyes to the side, as if looking for an escape.
“YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK!” they roared.
“No he didn’t, honey,” Ms. October said, striding over, her eyes as crimson as Lysander’s. “Now, what do you say?”
Lysander bared their teeth and hissed, “Time to kick some Vampire Lord ass!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – SLICE
A rumbling growl rolled through our bones, vibrating Jacob Cuba’s deep anger. He spat, black blood splattering the concrete, and puffed up his shoulders. “Come on then!” he taunted Ms. October and Lysander. “You’ll end up no better than Mercury. But die if you want.”
Cuba, Lysander, and Ms. October leaned in, feet on tiptoes, then in a flash of swirling smoke and gnashing teeth the fight was on.
Max leaned in too, ready to join the fray but I grabbed his arm and yanked him back. He opened his mouth to protest my cowardice, but I didn’t come to defeat Cuba. It had never been my goal. Instead, I reached into his pocket, grabbed the vial I had handed to him, and, teeth biting cork, I popped it open and poured its contents down Max’s still screaming throat.
He choked. Doubled over. Threw up sticky maroon globules which stank of both vomit and corpse.
Max tipped his head towards me, his now brown eyes meeting mine. “Why?”
I uncorked my vial, drinking down the contents, and clutching my abdomen against the licking flames of pain. “Because, I love you, and I’ll do anything to get you back,” I said, before throwing up, myself.
A low, sardonic laugh made me look over at Max, who shook his head. “You’re such an idiot,” he said. “A love sick puppy. Worst boyfriend ever.”
My heart dropped. I collapsed to the ground. No matter what I did, I failed. Max still hated me. Human or vampire, I had lost him. What was the point now?
The fight still raged between Cuba, Lysander, and Ms. October. Everything was moving at hyper speed, and without my supernatural power, it was impossible to tell what was happening.
Max’s hand landed heavy on my shoulder. I looked up to see him smiling. “Zero. Don’t take everything so hard. Get up.” He pulled me to him and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m not mad. I’m afraid we might die. We can’t fight vampires as humans. We can’t help our friends.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t,” Max said. “You only want me back with you. You are single minded.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“And that,” Max squeezed me tight to his body, beating heart pounding through my skin, “is why I love you so, my stupid little puppy-boy, even if our lives aren’t going to last much longer.”
Lysander flew disjointedly from the tangle of aggression, smashing against the wall, limbs flopping at weird, uncomfortable angles, like those of a broken doll during a child’s rage. Ms. October wasn’t fairing any better. Jacob Cuba grabbed her by the throat and squeezed until a series of pops, one after the other, echoed from the walls, then tossed her into the shadows, her breath exiting with a deflated squeak.
Cuba marched towards us. He was a mess of deep wounds, down to the bone. One eye was completely gone. His right arm hung from a shred of skin on his shoulder and he was limping badly. Still, even in this state, the Vampire Lord had a well of power. We couldn’t out run him. There was no where to hide that he wouldn’t be able to find us. So we waited. Watching the horror as his face bled and his teeth clacked.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” Max said, kissing my cheek.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I replied, squeezing his hand.
“I’m hungry,” Cuba growled. “I’m starved.” He licked his lips, his tongue leaking inky blood down his chin, one tooth missing. “I need to heal and you two have the blood to fix me, but I’m going to have to drain you dry. I hope you don’t mind. Not that I care.” Cuba’s his voice pitched higher and higher, ending in the laugh of a hobby horse, short a rocker, going in circles.
I squeezed Max’s hand tighter. I was a fool. A little dreamer kid who didn’t know the right time or place to do anything. In our half vampire state we might have had a chance but now –
It was if Max knew what I was thinking. He squeezed my hand. “We never would have beat him, no matter how much power we had. I’m glad I’m going to die human with you.”
Jacob Cuba snatched at Max yanking him towards his mouth. I screamed, punching and thrashing, eyes closed, mouth open, trying one last time to stop the horror. Then Max was ripped from my arms and a thud hit the floor. Cracking open one eye I caught the glimpse of Ms. October, sword in hand, and the sliced head of Jacob Cuba, Vampire Lord, firmly in her grasp.
The head was far from dead. It still snapped and hissed, but in a more automatic way. The body crawled and clawed at anything near it. I backed up, shaking violently. Max went to hold me but I put up my hand. “Ms. October,” I said. “You need to take your medicine.”
She nodded and threw the still biting head to Max, before taking out her own vial of muddy orange liquid, downing it quickly.
I waited. Watching to see her double over, to get the foul vampire poison out of her veins. But nothing happened. Or rather, she grew more dusky, her teeth growing longer, her nails losing their shine. “Why isn’t it working?” I asked.
“Because,” came Lysander’s voice from the wall. They were leaning up against it as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Ms. October was already half vampire before Cuba fed on her and filled her with his blood. Now, she’s gone too far.”
“No!” I screamed. “No. We have to do something. We have to stop this. We can go back to Madame Morre and get her to –”
“It’s okay, love.” Ms. October stroked my sweat-damp hair. “It’s okay. I can live like this. If you and Max are back together and whole. I’m fine with that.”
“Well, I’m not.” Lysander pushed off the wall and walked over, kicking Cuba’s scrabbling body as they passed it by.
“Well there’s no time to stop it,” Ms. October said, a frustrated edge cutting her words. “Madame Morre is out of ingredients, we’re out of vials, and our time has ticked away.”
“We aren’t out of vials.” Lysander pointed. “Zero has mine.”
Ms. October clicked her tongue. “No, child. That’s for you. You above anyone has to survive this mess. You still have work to do. You need to make the world right for every living soul.”
Lysander stood tall. “You don’t think I will?” They walked over to the headless, grasping corpse and lifted it. “The world is trying to erase people like me. I need power. I need endless strength. And I’m not about to give up what’s right in front of me to become invisible again.”
Max shook his head. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“So what’s going to change?” Lysander shrugged. “This’ll make fighting a whole lot easier.” They winked at Ms. October. “Now, you get that potion into you and turn back to your sassy old self. I have a vampire lord to drain dry.”
While Lysander began their meal, I handed Ms. October Lysander’s potion, trying not to think about what was happening just beside us. In moments she was back to her brown eyed, cocoa skinned self, a slight gold glow to her that hadn’t been before.
Lysander, tossing the much deflated corpse aside, was stronger, taller, and more powerful. They grabbed Jacob Cuba’s head and tore it into four pieces, the skull cracking with a hollow snap. “I’m going to burn him. Spread him all over the world and shoot him into space if I can. He will never recover,” Lysander spat.
“So you’re the Vampire Lord now,” Max said. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Fight the good fight,” Lysander smiled. “And still host some fabulous balls. I’m going to look hella good in gem tones with my skin so luminescent.” They snapped their fingers. “I’ll need a whole new wardrobe!”
Ms. October laughed. “That you will, darling. But no world domination, okay?”
“Not on the agenda,” Lysander agreed, then they winked at Max and me, “At least, not till after the wedding.”
“Wedding?” I asked, brows knitting in confusion. “Us?”
Max grabbed me up in a hard hug, lifting my feet off the ground. “Oh hell yes, Zero! After all this you better marry me, you stupid lovable man!”
“About time,” Ms. October smiled.
“Damn right,” Lysander replied. “I’ll make all the arrangements.”
Darkness had set in. Shadows, long and gripping filled the alley. I hovered over the bottle, tepid glass pressed against my wind-burnt lips while machine gun electric guitar rattled from behind the chipped metal club door. It was all boozy fumes, rotting vegetation, and long past meat in the slurry of rain and soupy refuse. The graffiti gave no inspiration. It’s all poisonous, it read in splattered and dripping letters on the grey brick wall.
It was right. This whole fucking world, it was all poisonous.
I squeezed the bottle in my hand. A decision had to be made and I was seven eighths of the way there. The wafting almonds reminded me of grandma’s kitchen in all its lemon-yellow glory, filled with coconut cream pies and buttery shortbread. That had gone with the old lady. There was never going to be any of that again. Not in this world anyway. No one deserved such treats. I tipped my arm, the liquid way down the bottom of the dark brown bottle now sliding its way towards my lips.
“Oh, honey,” a silky voice crooned. “Don’t do that. The world ain’t that bad.”
I paused.
She clicked. High heels splashing percussion on the alley’s damp bottom, even as her finger wrapped around my wrist.
CHAPTER TWO - TRANQUIL
As agitated as I was, she was placid. Cocoa eyes staring like she was waiting for me to comply. Just waiting and expecting nothing less. So I did. I let the bottle drop to the ground beside me, all its toxic liquid mixing with the equally contaminated sludge on the ground.
“Time to go, Zero,” she smiled. “You can’t hang out here all night. We have work to do.”
She was always rescuing me, Ms. October. She was always there to be my conscience, to be my strength, to be my will. I don’t know what I gave her. If it was anything – it certainly wasn’t much.
“Why do you always have to take everything so hard, Zero?” she asked, leading me by the hand, her black gloved fingers interlocking with my frost bitten red ones.
Why did I have to take it all so hard? Well, I can start at the beginning and figure it out. I could go back and try to pin point the moment everything shattered.
Even as she opened the door to her Roadster, my eyes slid shut with memories, letting my now-body collapse into the barely-worn leather while my mind jumped to the past, trying to make heads or tails of it.
It all started twenty three-hours before. She ran her fingers down my spine and said, “It’s time to go to Tranquil. I have a lead. Get dressed.”
CHAPTER THREE – ROASTED
The Tranquil Lounge lived up to its name. Gown dressed ladies, and men in shiny silk suits, draped over velvet couches, glasses of the Green Fairy Absinthe, dangling from their languid fingers. Music flowed over the scene, slow and haunting, as shadowy laughter from patrons, amused by the obscure, cut the air.
The man at the door, a hulking fellow who looked like he was the result of genetic misdeeds, asked for the password. Ms. October had it, of course. “Serene, darling. It’s all just serene.”
The man nodded and let us in with what appeared to be a smile, but the size of his chin and the knotted scar tissue around his mouth tore that effort from the polite and into the uncanny valley of emotions.
Still, I appreciated the effort.
The lounge was packed, the air – thick with twisted fragrant smoke emanating from a pig on a spit and thin brown cigarillos preferred by the gentlemen of this club, made it difficult to see our mark. “We should split up,” I suggested in a hiss.
Ms. October nodded, her fingertips brushing the shimmering blue fabric of her gown as she made sure her pistol was firmly in place on her thigh.
I wound my way towards the pig, weaving through arms and legs carelessly thrown into my path by the sprawling patrons. Then I saw him, Carlos Carlton. Lover of fine wines, vivacious lads, and top-secret military technology. It was him we needed to talk to and I had no problem doing it here and now. Carlos, on the other hand, seemed to take exception to our impromptu meeting. I rushed forward, jostling more than a few drops of absinthe onto the carpet and receiving curses for my efforts, before finally catching up with Carlos. “Time to chat,” I growled.
“I’ve done nothing,” he whined back, his head flopping on his neck in a one body-part tantrum.
“Enough. You knew this was inevitable.”
He straightened his head, “Yes but . . .” His pool-green eyes darted between me and the ruby coals under the roasting pork behind me.
“That’s not a plan you can execute,” I warned, already onto him.
Whatever bravado he had, which was very little at the best of times, melted away before my eyes. “Not me,” he blurted, turning away and flopping onto a nearby couch, eyes covered.
“What?” I asked bewildered. It was then I saw what had frightened him. The Tranquil Lounge had lost its tranquility. My accidental absinthe knocking had set these otherwise limp patrons, into an army of spirit filled zombies out for revenge. I darted right, only to be blocked by reaching hands. I darted left, but wide eyed faces, pale and savage met me. I tried to go forward but they blocked my path. “Roast him. Roast him,” they chanted in slow deep tones. The music kept playing and, as my heel caught the edge of the pit and the heat from the charcoal melted a hole my cheap suit I wondered if this was how I was going to die - roasted alive.
CHAPTER FOUR – SPELL
Eyes red, the crowd closed in even as my body fell back, my right hand landing on the slippery carcass of the pig, its crisp skin shifting from its flesh like a hot oily glove. My left hand wheeled in the air. The spirit filled crowd reached for me. My feet landed in the coals, shoes melting. I closed my eyes. Foot flesh seared. I gulped back a scream. A fist grabbed my shirt, yanking.
Ms. October, inches from my face, pulled me back to the floor before letting go and smoothing my sweat soaked button up as best she could. I puffed a relief from my heat cracked lips and pressed the heel of my hand to my eye, holding back fear at what could have been. She yanked out her gun, one eye closed, aiming it from person to the next.
“Tell where to find Madame Morre or I’ll start shooting and I won’t stop until I’m out of clips. And honey,” she eyed the tallest and most aggressive of the attackers, “I have a lot of clips.”
“I can tell you,” a deep voice came from the back. I blinked through the smoke to see it was the doorman who spoke. “Come.”
Ms. October lifted her skirt with one long red nail and slipped her gun back in its holster before walking towards him. The crowd parted before her. I followed, a beaten puppy, eyes to the grubby and stained carpet.
Once we were alone by the door, the hulking, disfigured man spoke again. “You’ll find Madame Morre at the Roost. She should be there now.”
“How do you know?” I asked, suspicious at this sudden willingness to give up such information so easily.
“We have history, and I owe her more than you know.” He looked away. “Now go. You’re scaring the customers.”
CHAPTER 4.5 – SPELL
Dragon’s blood. That’s all I could smell. Sweetly intoxicating and swirling up from the stick of incense in writhing twisting tendrils of white ribbonous smoke. Mesmerizing.
“What is it yah want, Ms. October? Come for a spell or two? Love maybe? Life? What is it you need?” Madame Morre was a tall angular woman, her hair held in a towering gold turban. Bangles and bones clattered and chimed off her every joint. Her long silver nails clacked along a warn walnut cabinet, scorch marks marring the wood grain.
“I don’t need your witchcraft, woman.” Ms. October snapped, eyes blazing.
“Not anymore you don’t, girl.” Madame Morre grinned, her lips thinning. She reached up and opened the cabinet with a sharp click of the latch, pulled out a thin purple bottle, and handed it to me – cold hand wrapping around mine. “A present for you, for when all hope is lost.”
“Leave him alone!” Ms. October growled, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“Who is he to you?” Madame Morre questioned, languidly letting go of my hand and leaving the bottle behind.
I slid it into my pocket.
“My partner.”
“Oh! Another . . .”
“Enough!” Ms. October stomped her foot.
“Temper, temper, child.” Madame Morre turned towards the mirror and pulled off its silk scarf covering launching a flurry of dust motes into the dark air of the room. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“Good,” Ms. October said.
It was then that a noticed just how uncomfortable she looked, shifting foot to foot. This lady had her rattled and that had me rattled.
Madame Morre preened in front of the mirror. “I have nothing to do with it. And that’s the truth.”
CHAPTER FIVE – CHICKEN
“So you know what we’re here for?” I ask, just wanting to leave, if only for Ms. October’s sake. As for me, the place was creepy with its dark edges, lace draped lamps, and red glowing incense dotting every corner of the mysterious and stifling room.
“Oh yes, I know why you came.” Madame Morre turned to me and leaned her angular face into mine, finger hovering just in front of my nose. “People disappearing. Someone you love, maybe? Strange signs. Shadows just outside the corner of your eye? Yes, boy. I’ve seen it too . . . but it ain’t me.” She glowered at Ms. October. “No matter what your partner might say.”
“I didn’t say a thing,” Ms. October jutted her chin out eyes focused on wooden door leading to a back room.
“You may as well.”
“So tell us then. Who is responsible?” I asked, trying to stop the fight brewing barely under the surface.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Madame Morre fanned her fingers opened, then cascaded them closed with the last one urging me, and Ms. October in turn, to follow her. She opened the wooden door, leading us into a much cooler and much darker room. I could barely see beyond the silver turban leading us, but the sounds, the sounds were what made me pause.
Stirring wind, grinding dirt, and the rustle of feathers. A loud cluck followed by a screech and a crunch. The scrape and hiss of a flaring match. Bright yellow light casting slithering shadows. Madame Morre lit five candles on a blood stained stone table three feet from my chest, laying out the freshly killed chicken, then picking up a bright silver knife, moonlight glinting off its blade from the shattered window behind her.
“You want to know the secrets the night holds? Tonight we will skry the truth from the spirits who hold it!”
The knife flashed down splattering blood over the bright white feathers, landing warm and damp on my shirt. I turned, intending to flee. Ms. October held me in place. Her hand clamped hard on my shoulder, fingers steel on my bones. “Breathe,” she whispered, lips flicking my ear. “We need this information. Be strong.”
I nodded and turned back. Soon we would know who took Max, why, and more importantly – if he was still alive.
I desperately hoped he was alive.
CHAPTER SIX – DROOLING
The chicken dismemberment, seventy-two candles, and a still beating human heart (I think, things were getting real swimmy by then) proved to be too much. Blood pounding, skin flashing hot then cold, mouth tasting of iron and aluminum, and soon my eyelids fluttered. The next thing I remember was the doorman from Tranquil shaking my shoulder and smearing drool from my mouth to my eyebrow with a meaty hand and a dubious handkerchief.
“You okay?”
I sat up, still wobbly. “Where am I?”
“The Roost. Don’t worry. You haven’t moved.”
“Why are you here?” I asked, starting to use my sleeve to rub my face but stopping just as quickly when I saw the blood spatters dotting it. I grabbed the dubious handkerchief instead and finished the job. “Thanks,” I said handing it back.
“No problem.” The door man pointed at his shoulder, his arm hanging at a funny angle. “Repairs.”
“Huh?” I asked, wishing the world would right itself in my brain.
“I came for repairs. Madame Morre made me, and she keeps me going.”
“Not if you keep over doing it!” Madame Morre called from some unseen shadow. “Alejandro, come!”
“Gotta go,” Alejandro, the doorman, said patting my head with a Christmas ham sized palm. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, and I hope it doesn’t get you killed.”
Alejandro left and entered the room with the wooden door. I shuddered. Where was Ms. October? Was she all right? Pushing to my feet I scanned the room. Other than the creepy décor, there wasn’t much to see. I decided to check outside.
It was a good call. Ms. October leaned against the car pulling long, burning drags from her cigarette. “Awake finally,” she commented flicking the butt away and getting in the car.
“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck and went around to the passenger’s seat. “Did you get what we needed?”
She stabbed the key in the ignition. “Yeah. But you’re not going to like it.”
“I don’t care if it’s Satan himself, so long as we rescue Max,” I replied, puffing out my chest, bravado welling.
“Satan?” she laughed. “Satan would be a day in Grandma’s kitchen.”
“Who then? I can take them all!”
“Jacob Cuba.”
My chest deflated until I was a curled shell of a man. “Oh shit.”
“Still want to save Max?”
I bit my lip, my head a tremble of a nod.
She put the car in gear and revved the engine. “Let’s go then, and I hope you brought your stakes.”
CHAPTER SEVEN – EXHASTED
I fingered the bottle in my pocket. It had been a long night. Hell, it had been a long couple of weeks since Max disappeared. Max was my partner in more ways than just the detective agency. We had met when Ms. October teamed us together. Me, a newbie detective, and Max, having lived the gumshoe life for going on two years. We hit it off right away and soon we were sharing case details over wine and long walks on the beach – so to speak. Then, in the middle of finding details about the latest rash of murders down by the docks, Max disappeared. Fell right off the Earth. At first I thought he might be the latest body to wash up. I spent days trying to pick up his trail hoping against hope, I was wrong. Then, Ms. October herself stepped in and told me she would help me find him. She told me that there was no way in hell a great detective like Max was dead. We would find him.
Now two weeks and one very long night later I learn that Max is somehow mixed up with Jacob Cuba? I can’t take it. I can’t. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake to find this was all just a nightmare.
Max, please be safe.
Please.
CHAPTER EIGHT - STAR
“Pull the car over.” My voice was flat. Done. I wanted to be alone, not chasing some chicken voodoo queen’s wild visions. I wanted to do things my way for a bit.
Ms. October didn’t say a word. She brought the car to a smooth stop along a neon-lit and mostly abandoned street.
I got out. “I’ll be in touch. Call me if anything changes,” I said before closing the door and walking away.
The air was cool and damp, with a hint of wood smoke and rotting leaves. Denim-bruised clouds rushed over the bright ivory moon, so bright it made shadows in the dark. I took a deep breath and loosened my jaw while rolling my shoulders. I couldn’t control this situation, and being this tense wasn’t making anything better. It was a waste of energy, energy I needed to find Max.
I decided to hit up the Lone Star Bar, a place where all kinds of detectives and private eyes gathered to exchange dirt they found along the way. If I was going to pick up any faint trail, it would be there. Right off the bat I found another Max, Max Hunter, hanging out with a good friend of his, John Williamson. They were on another case and had nothing to offer except a beer and some brief company, which was actually comforting. Marcello Di Cintio was in the corner ripping apart a manuscript, literally. Pages were flying everywhere. He wasn’t a dick but he was a good man to go to for information, just not in this state. He was a little crazy when he was editing.
Finally I spotted Slither McDaniels, the greasiest private eye in the city. Slither, AKA Cynthia, would implement anything from bribes to extortion to get what she wanted. I even heard that she once used back alley dental surgery to get some poor sap to talk. If anyone had info, Slither would. I sidled up to her, whiskey sour in hand – her poison of choice.
“Hey Slither, got a minute?” I asked, holding out the drink.
“Not for vampire meat like you,” she replied, taking the drink anyway.
“So it’s true then?” I said, shuddering.
“Maybe. I got wind your Max was spotted with a very white crew, and I don’t mean the KKK.” She downed the drink in one go and indicated to the waitress that she wanted another.
I nodded then asked, “So he’s alive, huh?”
Slither laughed a boozy, smoke-ridden cackle. “Alive? Not as such. Moving about, yes.” She laid a hand on my shoulder. “I would walk away from this.” Slither grabbed and drank the new whiskey sour before the waitress even had a chance to pull it from her tray. “But you’re not going to – so maybe talk to Lysander, he’s been looking into Jacob Cuba and his gang for a while. If you don’t want to end up like Max or worse, you’re going to need all the help you can get.” She reached into her stained and cigarette burned plaid jacket and pulled out a dog eared card. It had only an address on it. No other information. Leave it to Slither to carry such things around.
“Thanks.” I nodded.
“Don’t thank me,” she replied, “I might be sealing your death. But good luck. I hope you find the boy. You two are cute together.”
CHAPTER NINE – PRECIOUS
I didn’t go and find Lysander, like Slither suggested. Instead I went home to my cold and barren apartment, turning on every yellow-bulbed lamp, just to make it feel like I wasn’t alone. The weird cracking echo of my voice off the walls reminded me I was, and besides, it felt crazy to call out, “I’m home!” when no one else was there. I flicked off the lights once more, stripped down, and crawled into bed. I would find Max, but after my head wasn’t spinning from exhaustion and too many beers.
I awoke to a silver sliver of dawn and Lysander’s large brown eyes taking up much of the view. “What? Huh?” I sputtered, yanking up the sheets to my chin.
“I heard you were looking for me.” Lysander unfolded to full height, a good six foot eight of elongation.
“I was. Or at least I was going to.”
“Huh, okay.” Lysander sat down on a chair, throwing the folded clothes it contained, at me. “Get dressed. I have a job we need to do first.”
This was why I hadn’t gone to Lysander. There was always something happening that needed attention. Usually something that needed fists too.
“Fine,” I breathed through clenched teeth, getting dressed and giving up what modicum of modesty I had left.
Lysander didn’t look so good. Left eye black. Nose cut at the bridge. Cheek bruised and swollen. Lysander got into more fights than anyone I knew, usually after being misgendered by some careless cretin who didn`t care to learn that THEY could be singular. As for Lysander, be it a suit cut and sewn to perfection, Lysander wasn’t a he. And if the gown was the most extravagant at the ball Lysander wasn’t a she. Lysander was, well, Lysander. They. And everyone could just damn well get their heads around it or suffer the two-fisted consequences.
“So, do you love him?” Lysander rubbed they’re chin with fingers as stretched and thin as the rest of their limbs.
“Who? Max?” I asked, staring down at the buttons of my fresh shirt, trying to match them up with the holes and not doing a great job of it.
“Yes. Is he precious to you, or . . .” Lysander stood.
“Or what?” I looked up, eyebrow raised.
“Is he just easy? First guy you got knocked together with. A no brainer. Just fall in with him and don’t make any effort to find out if he’s mister right.”
I thought about this. Was it true? Did I just think I was in love with Max because we happened so quickly and easily? I thought there was a spark, but . . . The hole in my heart answered for me. “Yes. He is precious to me.”
“Okay.” Lysander shrugged. “But we still gotta do this other job first.”
CHAPTER TEN – FLOWING
Lysander’s “job” was walking into an illegal fight ring to take on everyone because the biggest guy there had called them a dame, and laughed. His cronies too. So this vendetta had to be paid. This was the main, and really only, reason I didn’t like to be around Lysander. It usually had me limping out of a place, nose flowing red down my shirt and a few less brain cells between the both of us.
This time was no different.
Or so I thought until I saw a white-haired, pallid guy hanging around by the exit. Normally I would put it down to the fact that in this circle of hell, no one got out in the sun much. But with all the things happening lately, all I could think of was Max.
Back to back, our laboured breathing matching rattling intake for rattling intake, sweat soaking into the other’s blood, I panted, “I gotta go.”
Lysander locked their arm into mine. “I see him too. I’ll come with you. Just one more maneuver. Jump and kick when I move.”
I did as asked and Lysander used my half-leaping, half-running legs to take out the full rest of the circle of fighters prepared to beat us to a pulp in a move that would have made the Moscow Ballet jealous.
Then we were running, blood flowing out behind us in a spattering of droplets through the under-city tunnels, not hiding our path straight to the vampires.
CHAPTER ELEVEN – CRUEL
We were panting, Lysander and I, spiting up congealed blood from our lungs, lost in the underlair of the city.
“Max!” I bellowed, my voice echoing back to me like a gong.
“Shh,” came a slippery hiss from the sticky black beyond. “You’ll wake the dead.” The white haired man stepped out into the tepid light from a storm drain above, a chuckle hanging off his lips.
“Give me back Max,” I demanded, leaping forward.
Lysander, still shoulder to shoulder with me, stepped forward, fist at the ready. “Listen… um… what pronoun do you prefer?”
“He,” the man replied. “Thanks.”
“Listen, man!” Lysander continued. “My friend lost his friend and wants him back. Last seen hanging out with you lot. You know where he is?”
“Max, right?” the man asked. “I haven’t heard of him. There is a new guy though. A few actually. Maybe he’s one of them. I’m Mr. Mercury, by the way. On account of the silver hair I guess.”
“It’s more white to me, man,” Lysander observed.
“I don’t care. I don’t care!” I screamed. “Just take me to Max.”
“Why are you always so loud?”
It was a familiar voice out of the darkness. A warm voice turned cold, cruel, and heart wrenching.
“Max?”
“I guess,” It said. “I don’t feel much like Max right now. In fact,”
What had once been Max stepped out of the darkness, his copper skin now an undertone of blue, his piercing eyes scarlet, and his tousled brown hair, cropped short to stubble. “In fact,” he licked his lips, “I feel hungry.”
CHAPTER TWELVE – WHALE
“We’re in the belly of the whale now,” Lysander growled, as more and more red eyes appeared in the bleak light making it obvious they had an army on their side. A hungry army as tongues darted and mouths snapped.
“Max! Think about what you’re doing. It’s me!” I hated how screechy my voice had become, how my chest ached, how my legs were a last-move Jenga tower.
“It’s me!” Max trembled in a falsetto. Then he laughed. “It’s the man who glommed onto me as soon as we were partnered up. Who automatically liked everything I liked, without fail –”
“But I do!” I protested. “I love funny movies with talking animals, and sitting on park benches to watch the city lights come on. I love it when we crack clues together, and how you always pack peanut butter to put on your hotdogs. Come on! Max! I’ve never met someone as perfect for me as you. I thought I was – ”
“Easily replaceable by a dog, and it would be less annoying,” Max bit.
“See,” Lysander turned to me, “this is what I was saying. You only like him because it’s-”
“Shut up!” I stepped forward. “Max, this isn’t you.”
Max shook his head, a grotesque smile of sharp fangs. “This is more me than ever before.”
“Max.” Vision welling, I stared at him. The man I wanted to spend my days and nights with, forever.
His right hand twitched, then he walked over to meet me, lifting my chin with his index finger. “One good thing, you look after yourself. You’ll be the healthiest thing I’ve eaten in a while.”
I closed my eyes. Having his icy finger on my skin, no matter how he was now, was better than not having him at all. I was ready, to die, or whatever came next.
Knuckles cracked my jaw and sent me spinning. “Snap out of it!” Lysander roared standing over me, my blood on his fist. He hauled me up and dragged me into the tunnels. “Run!”
Max’s laughter raced after us, followed quickly by the red-eyed swarm jaws snapping as they came.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – GUARDED
“Just leave me, leave me. I don’t care anymore,” I begged while Lysander dragged through the tunnel system, hoping for an exit.
“I don’t care if you care,” they snapped. “I don’t want either one of us to become vamp food.” He yanked me around another corner. “Besides, Ms. October would end me if I lost you.”
Ms. October.
It was her name that snapped my brain back into place. For all my heartache over Max, she would have lost two of her agents if I died. Another tick in the column of agents she didn’t make it to in time – I couldn’t put her through that. Not on purpose.
I stopped dragging my feet and ran, arms pumping. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
“Too little, too late,” came Mr. Mercury’s shiny, quick moving voice as he stepped out of a side corridor in front of us.
Lysander skidded to a halt, wrenching me back with him.
The passage filled with snapping, salivating, vampire beasts behind him. They didn’t look like Mr. Mercury or Max, with their smooth waxy skin and bright, if crimson, eyes. These looked more like animals, slobbering and growling in vacant single-minded hunger. Still they waited, as if trained, while Mr. Mercury stood brushing lint from the black silk sleeve of his suit.
“So?” he asked, eyes piercing my own. “Did you get what you wanted? Are you done?”
“Maybe,” I replied, guarded, trying to keep my true fretfulness from crowding my intentions. “But I’m still not convinced that this isn’t some ruse to get rid of me. You, or that boss of yours, have done something to him.”
Eye brow raised, Mr. Mercury chuckled. “I didn’t do anything. Maybe he’s just not that into you.”
“He has a point,” Lysander joined. “I mean he did say –”
“Shut up!” I snapped.
Mr. Mercury sighed. “Fine. Be hard headed. How about I propose a little deal and let you go. My army won’t like it . . .”
The bestial army growled and chomped the air, barely contained.
“But if it shuts you up and makes you go away, then that would be a win in my book.”
“Fine.” I nodded, “A deal. What is it?”
CHAPTER 14 – CLOCK
A moaning wind blew through my ribcage, wending between organs, biting at my soul. Waiting was agonizing. The meeting had been set for midnight. Of course. Leave it up to Jacob Cuba to stick to the cliché.
I paced.
Lysander growled. “Stop doing that! It won’t make the clock move any faster.” They patted the couch. “Come, have a tea. You’ll feel better.”
“I can’t.” I stopped in front of the window watching the blue-grey clouds fly past, muted by lamp light. “I can’t do anything until I see him.”
“There you go again,” Lysander fumed.
“What?”
“Assuming gender. You haven’t even asked.”
I frowned, turning to stare at Lysander, a folded stick bug of a person sitting on my couch. “I think it’s pretty well known that Cuba’s a he.”
“You think,” Lysander chastised. “But you don’t know. I’ve never seen you ask. Not once.” They stood, unfolding and towering above me. “Why is it always up to us non-binary people to do all the asking? Why can’t you cis folks do some too? Share the workload? Huh?”
I furrowed my eyebrows. They had a point. A point that really didn’t fit in with my current thoughts or emotions, but still, a valid point.
“Okay,” I nodded. “Fine. I’ll start asking and not be such a dick about it.”
“Oh,” Lysander smiled, “you can be a dick – but keep it to the P.I. kind. Next we have to get the other seven billion or so people on the planet to do it too.”
“Might be a tall order,” I laughed.
Lysander winked. “No taller than meeting with Jacob Cuba and walking out alive and still human.” They tipped their head to the clock. “We should go.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN – WEAK
“You can go.”
Lysander towered beside me in front of the dockside warehouse. The same warehouse Max likely came two weeks before. Even if this worked, I knew I didn’t have much hope of getting him back. Not in mind anyway, or in body for that matter, and I didn’t need to take Lysander down with me.
Lysander lowered their eyes to meet mine. “I heard you had a plan. You think I want to miss seeing that? The first ever plan to work on Jacob Cuba?”
“You have a lot of faith.” Still, I smiled. Glad I didn’t have to walk into this alone.
My fist pounded the door and it creaked open as if never really shut. I hovered at the edge of the complete blackness, fumbling for my cellphone flashlight app. Lysander strode in as if not knowing where they were going wasn’t something to worry about.
A steel-cold hand wrapped around mine and crushed both it and the cellphone I held, then disappeared as quickly. I screamed in pain as darkness once more swirled around us.
“Jacob Cuba!” I called out, cradling my damaged appendage, figuring on at least six broken bones. “You agreed to this meeting. Come out!”
A slithering, vaporous hissing emanated from the gloom. “I’m here. As are you. So speak.”
“I can’t see you!”
“But I can see you,” the hiss continued.
“This isn’t fair!” I protested.
Lysander’s knuckles cracked in the blackness.
“Fair?” Cuba asked. “What difference is light to fairness? You will speak, then you will die. Or be transformed. As is my will.”
I heard Lysander’s heavy stomp before they shouted. “Just turn on the light and stop jerking my friend around. Or I’ll follow your voice and beat the crap out of you until you shut up.”
Cuba’s hiss turned into a chuckle, the kind that was all hard edges and hollow in the middle. The kind that made you know that no one was actually enjoying the moment. The kind that was the last sound anyone heard. “You are weak,” Cuba threw back.
“I’m strong enough to break your jaw,” Lysander snarled. “And I’d at least go out doing what I loved, kicking vampire ass.”
“Fine,” the hiss that was Jacob Cuba said, sounding somewhat more irritated than expected. “In the spirit of fairness I will light the surroundings. But I’m warning you now, this won’t help you. If you want to escape, you should try now.”
I took a small step back, my legs moving against my will, but the sound of the beasts snapping their jaws in the street behind us moved me forward once more. I clenched my hands. Steeled myself against my vibrating nerves. Hardened my chin. “Light it up, Cuba. Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – ANGULAR
A low drone followed by a sharp click and bang and the warehouse lights slammed on, harsh and white from far above in the rafters. They sent long angular shadows to chase away the pitch and made me blink and squint.
Cuba didn’t appear to be phased by it at all, standing there unblinking, while Lysander tried, through narrowed eyes, to stare him down.
This was my first time seeing Jacob Cuba, and for all I’d heard, he was even more than that. The Vampire Lord stood taller than Lysander by a good number of inches. But unlike Lysander, he was wide at the shoulders, sinuous, and dangerously insidious. He had skin so pale it appeared to give off its own light. His eyes were crimson with long black lashes. He had likely been handsome as a human, now he was corrupted, demonic. Hair coal-dust coloured and shoulder-length, curling just so – as to create the appearance of horns. His face stretched, thin, and ropey, with lines around the mouth caused not by aging but by extensive opening as a snake swallowing its prey whole. Cuba’s hands were wide, long fingered, and long nailed, blackened and dull as one lying ages in a grave. There was a smell of rot about him too. Dirt, old blood, and rust wafted as he strode towards me, stopping just out of striking range.
“You think you’re brave,” he hissed. “Smart?”
“Sure.” I shrugged, not feeling either.
“You are none of those things.” He opened his mouth enough to show off his impressive teeth, shiny and sharp. “You want what I’ve rightfully taken.”
“You can’t rightfully take a human,” I argued.
“Do you tell an anteater they can’t take an ant?” Cuba countered.
“Give me Max!”
“This Max?” he crooked his finger towards a long shadow in the corner.
Max stepped out. Hanging back. Distant. His right hand twitched before it found his pocket. I wanted to run to him. Grab him and drag him away. Willing or not. My legs tensed. Cuba was on me before my brain even comprehended he had moved. Teeth dug into my neck, not yet breaking the skin. Hand clamped to the back of my neck.
“What will you give me?” Cuba hissed in my ear.
“Me!” Lysander shot out. “Max for me!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – SWOLLEN
“No!” I shouted, yanking back in Cuba’s grip. “Lysander! No!”
“It’s simple,” Lysander replied. “Ms. October gets everyone back. You and Max. What other way is there? That was always the plan.”
Cuba’s grasp was a straight jacket, tying me up and forcing me still, even as I fought. “It was never the plan!” I protested.
“You’re plan was stupid. Reasoning with this monster?” Lysander flicked their fingers at Cuba. “Never going to work.”
Nails dug into my neck as Cuba’s breath came fast. “Monster?” he hissed. “I don’t think you know monsters.” Cuba flung me aside, the force causing me to rag-doll tumble away from him into the wall next to the door.
Lysander strode straight at Cuba, fists taught at their side, leaning forward, ready to fight. “Oh I know monsters,” they said as they picked up speed. “I am one, and I love blood as much as you do. The only difference, I like outside my body. Let’s go!”
Lysander swung. Cuba dodged with speed that made the eyes blur. Lysander swung again, twice. Not expecting the second attack, Cuba was surprised by a crack to his blue-white jaw, spilling think black ooze from his lower lip. Cuba spun, appearing to suck into a point in the air and then expand in ribbon like smoke which darted behind Lysander, turning back into a manlike creature just as his claws embedded into Lysander’s shoulders, pinning them and a frozen, paralyzed trance. Lysander’s face fixed towards the ceiling. Their eyes wide and unblinking. Mouth open in a silent scream of rage and panic.
I tried to stand, to help, but found my legs jellied, and weak. Fear held me fast. Burned my heart in my chest. Stuck my breath in my throat.
“Max!” Cuba bellowed.
Max sauntered over from his place in the corner. He lay his hand on Lysander’s neck, stroking it, as if encouraging the blood to the surface. With his other hand, he forced Lysander’s eyes shut. Finally he cradled Lysander’s head, stretching their neck, before biting with an audible crunch of skin splitting beneath teeth.
I tried and failed to turn my head. To stop watching while Lysander grew emaciated, cheeks sucking to bone and Max became swollen with Lysander’s life essence.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – BOTTLE
I don’t recall everything of how I got out of there, I do remember running, blinded by tears drowning my eyes, Mr. Mercury’s blurry form pushing me onto Lysander’s motorcycle, the snapping bestial hoard sent to hunt me fading into the distance.
It was a half a city later, when I was well away from the docks, that I crashed the bike, sliding into a parked car at the mouth of an alley while electric guitar rattled from behind the chipped metal door. I stumbled into the shadows and pulled out the bottle Madame Morre had given me. If ever there was a time “when all hope was lost”, this was it. I hovered over the bottle, tepid glass pressed against my wind-burnt lips. Lysander was dead. Max was a vampire. The world was dark and only growing darker. A decision had to be made and I was seven eighths of the way there. The wafting almonds reminded me of grandma’s kitchen in all its lemon-yellow glory. There was never going to be any of that again. Not in this world anyway. I tipped my arm, the liquid down the bottom of the dark brown bottle sliding its way towards my lips.
“Oh, honey,” Ms. October crooned from the darkness. “Don’t do that. The world ain’t that bad.” High heels splashed percussion on the alley’s damp bottom, even as her finger wrapped around my wrist. Cocoa eyes staring, she waited for me to comply. Her touch giving me more comfort than I think she even knew. I let the bottle drop, all its toxic liquid mixing with the equally contaminated sludge on the ground.
“Time to go, Zero,” she said. “You can’t hang out here all night. We have work to do.” She kissed my forehead and smiled, her lips betraying her sorrow. “Why do you always have to take everything so hard?” Black gloved fingers interlocked with my frost bitten red ones, she squeezed. “We are going to make those blood suckers pay. That I promise. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN – SCORCHED
“How did you find me?” I asked, righting Lysander’s motorcycle.
Ms. October winked. “I got a call. They told me where you were. I managed to see you driving off and followed.”
“Who?” I asked, “Who was around to tell you. The last person to see me was . . .” My voice trailed away as Mr. Mercury stumbled out of the night and crumpled against the nearby light post.
He was a wreck. Silk suit torn into streamers of chaos, inky ooze dripping from long gashes, and the right side of his face scorched to the bone in a pattern of narrow black concentric circles. He grimaced, clutching his side, and stumbled forward.
“Mercury!” I ran to him, afraid he would collapse at any moment, and supported his weight. He was lighter than I estimated. “Did Cuba do this to you?”
“I guess he didn’t take kindly to my letting you go,” Mr. Mercury said, his voice cracking. “Made me get up close and personal with a stovetop, then set the horde on me. Fair, given I’ve deprived them of your flesh twice now.”
“I’m sorry.” I helped him over to Lysander’s bike and lowered him to the seat. “Rest.”
He nodded. “I’ll be fine in no time. We heal faster than you mortals.”
Ms. October fanned her fingers over her hip, thrusting it out with the statement, “None of that explains what you’re up to.” She raised her eyebrows. “Care to fill us in?”
“An exchange,” Mr. Mercury proposed, his cockiness clawing its way through his pain. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know. You help me take down Cuba.” He smiled, his pointed teeth glowing in the yellow lamp light. “For good.”
CHAPTER 20 – BREAKABLE
After a long and winding explanation by Mr. Mercury, it turned out vampires were breakable. It just took a lot to break them. More than most humans could accomplish. Luckily we had a non-human on our side.
“So let me get this straight.” Ms. October pursed her lips and applied maroon lipstick with a darting twist of her wrist before snapping the tube shut and slipping it in her pocket. “Cuba is the one killing dock workers so he can control the port and get his hands on the boatloads of illegal immigrants sneaking in – ”
“Many of whom he’s arranged transport for –” Mr. Mercury amended.
“So he can use his vampire power to turn them into that demon horde that attacked me,” I finished.
“Was going to,” Mr. Mercury smiled. “I stopped them.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“But why?” Ms. October asked.
“Why, what?” Mr. Mercury responded. “Why is Cuba doing this?”
“No. I know why Cuba’s doing this. It’s an obvious power play. One I don’t care about right now. What I want to know is,” Ms. October poked her finger into one of Mr. Mercury’s deep gashes – now healing but still not closed – and twisted.
He winced and snarled.
“Why did you stop the horde from killing Zero? What do you want? What’s in it for you?”
Mr. Mercury stood, pushing Ms. October away and walking to me, burnt flesh and dank grave dirt following his every move. “I want to be free. Cuba has controlled me from the minute he created me. He will control me for the rest of eternity if I don’t do something. I don’t want to control humanity. I want to just live amongst them. Enjoy what this world has to offer. War isn’t enjoyment, it’s just carnage.”
“Okay, so you want to stop this war. Be the hero maybe? But why Zero here? What use is he to you?”
Mercury clamped his clawed hand onto my shoulder, squeezing hard. “Zero isn’t afraid. And he should be. I need that. I need him. Besides, I think I can use him to get rid of Cuba’s newest right hand man.”
“Max?” I whispered.
“And how will you use him?” Ms. October asked, eyes narrowing.
“I will make him to become something more, something stronger.” Mr. Mercury bared his teeth, his voice exiting in a violent hiss. “A vampire hybrid.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – DRAIN
I kept my eyes locked on the moon and the lilac-grey clouds sweeping past it. Mr. Mercury’s arms locked me to his body, breath held in my chest, heart scrambling against fear. He said nothing, hand stroking my neck, encouraging blood to the skin’s surface. I wanted to break free, to run, the stop this madness, but he forced me to my promise, clutched my trembling chest against his own.
“Are you sure?” Ms. October’s words drifted from the distance.
I nodded, my head not moving at all. “Yes,” I choked out.
As afraid as I was. As unsure. Mr. Mercury had swore this was the only way to save Max. To save humanity. To save the last scrap of dignity I had after running away and leaving Lysander’s body behind.
“Oh, honey,” Ms. October moaned.
Mr. Mercury drew me in, opened his mouth wide, icy breath swirling over my skin. Then the bite. Sharper, much more painful than I expected. The crunch of skin snapping. The slice of ivory entering my vein. The salty-metallic blood as it pooled only to be sucked up by this vampire.
I gasped as my blood drained.
Legs shaking, eyes rolled back, mind swimming in the blowing wind and nearby traffic, Mr. Mercury finally released me, leaning me against the lamp post.
“Now your turn,” he said. He rolled up his ruined sleeve and bit into his own wrist, releasing the black ooze that made up his own blood. Arm up in the air, he let the sticky liquid ooze in a thin viscous tendril while his other hand forced my head back, long fingers holding my mouth open.
The blood tasted like death. Like cigarette-ashes and old tire-dirt. Like India ink in an old well covered in cobwebs. Like a hospital morgue filled with bodies and formaldehyde.
I choked and coughed.
And then the pains came.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – EXPENSIVE
“Ahh, look who darkens my door,” Madame Morre cackled rubbing her knobby fingers together, silver nails clacking along with her bone jewelry. “I see a transformation. An expensive one at that. Hmmm. You fall deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole, don’t you boy?” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room, the dragon’s-blood smoke more dense than the last time we visited.
I still felt woozy, disoriented. My senses weren’t my own. It was like being outside myself. I could feel every breeze, hear every rustle, but not on my skin. More like having cat whiskers, I knew. Knew so much my mind could barely take it all in.
“You’re cold. Grave cold.” Madame Morre clicked her tongue as she ran her hand up my arm and onto my neck.
“So, do you have the stuff we need?” Ms. October growled, her fingers pressed against the door frame.
“No.” Madame Morre shook her head. “No. You used up the last batch, as well you know.”
“That was years ago,” Ms. October bit.
“Not often one of the vamps leaves someone half and half,” Madame Morre bit back.
I spun, breaking free, shouting. “Wait! Are you . . .”
Mr. Mercury chuckled. He was very nearly healed after draining me of my blood. It filled me both with burning awe and biting rage. He nodded to Ms. October, catching my eye as he did so. “This woman is a Pandora’s box of secrets. You start unraveling them and you might never get your mind back.”
Madame Morre bobbed in agreement. “You don’t know this child. She’s been through the lot and then some. Come through most of it with my help too. Ungrateful little –”
Ms. October snapped her fingers and strode into the room, pointing at Madame Morre. “I’m no more ungrateful than you are at fault. And you,” she leaned into Mr. Mercury. “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, you’ll find that it’s no longer part of your body.” She glared from one to the other. “Anyone want to try my temper right now? Because my friend Zero just gave his life for this stupid plan and my friend Max is neck deep in trouble, so I’m just itching for a fight.” Ms. October strode up to Madame Morre, making her take a couple of quick steps back. “Now give us what we came for and make it snappy, woman, we have a vampire lord to vanquish and the night isn’t going to last forever.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – MUDDY
Eyebrow raised, Mr. Mercury peered at the muddy orange liquid Madame Morre had given me. Three thin clear bottles each stoppered with a cork. “So,” he said, “that stops the process huh?”
“Yeah,” I replied, not succeeding in keeping the bitterness out of my tone. “You didn’t tell me that this hybrid vampire state eventually stopped when I became full vampire.”
Mr. Mercury shrugged, “You didn’t ask. Besides, would you have done it if you had known?”
I shook my head.
“Well, there you go.” He slapped my back. “At least I didn’t make you into a full vampire right off the bat. You have a while before you turn.” He squeezed my bicep. “But you’re nowhere near that yet. Still quite human. Too much human to be of much use. Hopefully that changes soon.”
“Hhh,” I sneered.
“Anyway, you don’t need three of those potions. She said one would do, so why have so many?”
“For Lysander,” I answered, “and Max.”
“Your Lysander is dead.” Mr. Mercury stated flippantly. “And Max . . . likely or not he’s too far gone. You’ll probably have to kill him if you want to free him.”
It was so fast I didn’t even see my hand snapping onto Mercury’s throat, squeezing until my nails, rapidly growing and pointed, broke the skin.
Mr. Mercury gasped, then evaporated into ribbonous tendrils of smoke, reappearing a ways off and rubbing his neck. “I’m hurt. I thought we were friends.”
“Enough!” Ms. October barked, finally exiting Madame Morre’s and sliding into her car. “Time to take down Jacob Cuba. Once we’re done that, we get Max,” she said, nodding to me.
“And Lysander,” I whispered.
“If they’re not dead, yes,” she nodded. “Ready?”
Mr. Mercury cracked his knuckles. “Oh, I’ve been ready for a hundred years. Let’s ride!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – CHOP
“Here?” I asked, incredulous. The place was nowhere near the dock. Instead we were in the meat packing district with its distinctive pungent scent of raw flesh and curdled blood wafting through bleach ridden air. “Are you jacking us around?”
“No.” Mr. Mercury stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. “We’ve owned this forever. We’re only just breaking into the docks . . . and the rest of the city,” he muttered. “Damn, I hear them already.”
“The hoard,” Ms. October spat. “Sounds like Cuba’s been busy. At least a thousand, maybe more. Damn.”
“I don’t care about them. I only want to find Max and Lysander,” I growled, entirely focused on the heavy metal door to the warehouse.
“Well you better care, honey,” Ms. October said, pulling a sword from her car, its metal glinting moonlight. “Those things are between us and your beloved. You want him, you have to beat them.”
It was at that point a crash reverberated, metal smashed brick, and thousands of mouths filled with sharpened fangs poured from the building as if a liquid. They came from the roof, the alley, and the door. Calming the gripping panic overtaking me, I found that I could see their movements in slow motion, giving me enough time to punch, scratch and break necks, soon finding that breaking spines stopped the beasts flat.
Even after smashing one after another until ragged breath and coughing lungs disrupted my fight, they just kept coming. I could do this all night and never have it end. Besides, I realized, this battle was a distraction not my objective, no matter what I’d been told.
It didn’t help that to man who had directed me to do this work was nowhere to be seen. My anger rose. Heart pumped.
No more!
I rushed the door, throwing the hoard this way and that. Black sticky blood covered my hands and arms, the stench soon over powering the meat. “Max!” I yelled, “Max!”
“He’s not here, dummy!” Mr. Mercury called, pinned as he was to a cutting table, smashing a chopping block over the heads of the snapping beasts.
“You said –”
“I said I wasn’t jacking you around,” he breathed, grunting. “And I’m not.” He flung another beast into the wall, splitting his head in a spray of black ooze. “Come on!”
I grabbed up a cleaver from the knife rack nearby and hacked my way to him. “Where? And to do what?”
Ms. October skidded in, her eye gleaming with an enjoyment I found worrying. “Cuba’s not here,” she said. “But, we need to kill the source, am I right.”
Mr. Mercury nodded, smashing another beast out of his way and sprinting for another door. “You’re not as slow as I was led to believe. This is step one of my three step plan.” He yanked open the door and plowed through the increasing hoard, the gashes on his body growing, the deeper he got into the fray. “Come on. Maybe one of us will make it out of here alive.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – PRICKLY
Monster after monster slashed and bit, and attack after hissing attack, I got faster and faster. My senses honed in, the air swirled before each of their movements. I could predict what was coming and counter it. The clever I wielded hacked jaws from faces, and heads from necks as my muscles knotted and grew. It wasn’t long before the hoard thinned and Mr. Mercury led us down the stairs unhindered.
It was many floors of darkness, our boots drumming the decaying wooden steps. I found I could see well enough in this sickly light, feel the environment, its hard edges pressing on my senses. Then the static came.
“What’s that?” I whispered, rubbing my arm as yet another wooden tread creaked and shifted.
“The source,” Mr. Mercury replied, unhelpfully.
“The source of what? What’s going on with the air?” The prickly sensation was getting worse, like acupuncture needles all over my skin, sharp and irritating.
Ms. October growled. “It’s the source of these damn beasts. The one who made them?”
“I thought Cuba made them.”
“Yes and no,” Mr. Mercury illuminated.
“Huh?” I said, halting on the stairs and gripping the handrail hard. “Explain. Now. Or I’m not going any further.” The prickling had turned to a cloud of drifting embers making me wince.
“Listen,” Ms. October said. “There are three kinds of vampires. The beasts – which are made by draining a human then giving them a small amount of blood from a contaminated vampire.”
“The source,” I said.
“Yes.”
“How did the source get made?” I asked
“They’re a human who was allergic to vampire blood. It’s very rare,” Mr. Mercury snarled. “Can we go now?”
“And if we kill the source?” I continued.
“The beasts all fall. It’s like a river. Damn the source and the rest dries up,” Ms. October clarified.
“That sounds ridiculous, but fine.”
“So we can go, right?” Mr. Mercury grabbed my arm.
“What are the other two kinds of vampires?” I asked, not giving up.
Ms. October continued. “The hybrid vampires, who are like you.”
“And you,” I said.
“And me,” she replied. “We get a half exchange, the vampire drinks our blood and give us a portion of theirs. The change is slow and with the right measures, one can resume a mostly human life.”
“The last?”
“That’s me!” Mr. Mercury crowed. “Full exchange, or very nearly. I got drained and a lot of vampire blood was put into me. Not enough to kill my maker but enough to make me shed all my humanity in a night. It’s violent, brutal, and brilliant.”
“So,” I continued. “Jacob Cuba is a full vampire, like you.”
“Oh no,” Mr. Mercury said, his voice becoming dark and low. “Jacob Cuba is something else. He has more power than any of us. He is the master of all vampires.”
“How did that happen?” I whispered, not sure I wanted to know.
“When he was being turned he didn’t let go when he was supposed to. Instead he drank all the blood from his maker – the old master of vampires, then he snapped her neck and burned her in the sun before spreading her ash around the world. He took all her power and then some. He’s dangerous and deadly and insane.”
“But not unstoppable,” Ms. October finished. “Not if we take out his army. So get marching. We do this and then we can find Max.”
I turned and returned to my descent, wiser, but not at all ready for what lay ahead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – STRETCH
The air was alive with static. Snapping electricity which danced over my skin like thousands of tiny elastic bands being flicked by a horrible child. My skin burned, my eyes narrowed, I followed Mr. Mercury down, down, down until the buzzing ate every sense and I became numb to the world around me.
Then my foot hit solid ground.
I couldn’t even guess how far under the city we were. It could have been miles. What air there was, was dry and sulphurous. I opened my eyes against the pain and found I was using my new vampire senses. It was pitch and yet I knew all that was around me. It wasn’t sight so much as all my other senses stretching to fill in the gaps lending to a perfect picture.
That picture was of a skeletal horror of a man chained to a chair, a multitude of tubes stuck into him, draining his life blood from his veins and transferring it to drips crashing and reverberating their way into metal buckets below. He wasn’t moving and he wasn’t running dry.
“Is he dead?” I asked.
“No. He can’t die. Not this way.” Mr. Mercury grunted against the pain.
“The source.” Ms. October clicked her tongue. “I would have thought there would be guards.”
“Who could stand this?” Mr. Mercury asked. “They would die in an hour. They only come down to collect, so as long as we’re between pickups, we have the place to ourselves. Now kill him.”
“With pleasure,” Ms. October nodded. She raised her sword and brought it down. Instead wet, parting flesh, a clang interrupted her slice.
“Not so fast, October. You aren’t planning on depriving us of our army,” Max asked, his own sword holding Ms. October’s back just above the Source’s neck.
“Max!” Ms. October growled. “Fight it, boy. Don’t let it take you.” She pushed his sword away and went in for the kill again.
Once more Max stopped her, sparks flashing from the blades. Fireworks in the dark. “We will never let the source die!”
The Source screamed out a long and tortured howl, the horrific man’s face twisting in agony. The vibrations in the air redoubled. It was all any of us could do to stand.
“Max, you bastard, get out of the way,” Mr. Mercury snarled, leaping over Ms. October and tackling Max to the ground. Ms. October raised her sword once more, when a flash of white flew by and whisked her away, her curses fading into the darkness.
The Source stretched his emaciated hand towards me, eyes wide and unseeing, mouth empty of teeth. “Die,” he cried. “Let me . . .”
I swung my clever into his neck cutting through his throat and chopping my way through his spine. Thick liquid sprayed into the air and erupted onto the floor. The buzzing ceased. My head cleared.
Max wailed. “What have you done? What have you done?” He dropped his sword and ran to me, balling the fabric of my shirt in his fist, icy breath on my cheek. “You idiot! Now we’re all going to die.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – THUNDER
A shriek echoed through the cavern making both my and Max’s eyes widen. “Ms. October,” we both yelled.
Max let go and flew towards the sound, me at his heels.
His look. His tone. Maybe Max was in there still after all. Maybe all wasn’t lost yet. My Max, who always woke up late on Sundays and padded into the kitchen begging for waffles at noon. My Max who insisted on going to the cat café with every new batch of kittens even though he was beyond allergic. My Max who whispered how much he loved me every time his lips passed my ear, who grabbed my left hand in his right. Who . . . It was then I remembered the tremble, the twitch, every time he did something horrendous in this new vampire form his right hand flicked. Was he trying to tell me something? Or was I reading too much into it, making a story that wasn’t there?
We ran, step for step, through a narrow passage as it turned into a bricked tunnel lit by dim and yellowed lights which buzzed and whined. There against the wall Ms. October struggled, Lysander pinning her by her throat, their bone-white fingers curled tight around her neck.
“Lysander!” I called.
They turned their face to me, eyes scarlet, teeth long and dangerous. They were no half vampire waiting to turn. They were full blood sucker, and Ms. October knew it. She kicked and punched, to no avail. But Lysander did nothing more than stand, holding her, as if waiting further orders.
A crash of thunder shook the passage. Small rocks rained down on our heads. The air plumed with chalky, salty, dust. Lights flickered. A rustle of wings and a ribbon of smoke swirled into the space and coagulated into the form of Jacob Cuba.
I pushed past Max, anger filling me to the point of explosion. “You bastard. You took Max, and now you do this to Lysander!” I raised my clever, its blade dark with blood. “I’m taking you out Cuba, and nothing you do is going to stop me!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – GIFT
Jacob Cuba stared at me, a low hiss issuing from somewhere within, predatory and dangerous. His eyes narrowed and long black eyelashes blinked. He sneered, his upper lip exposing long ivory fangs. He tensed, eyes widening, like a cat before the strike. I readied in response, leaning forward.
This was it.
The movement was so fast my eyes saw but my brain wasn’t able to take it in, even with my new vampiric powers, the speed was incredible. The vampire lord struck, or was about to, but came up short as Lysander, Ms. October still writhing in their grasp, darted between us.
“My Lord,” they bowed. “I have a gift for you.” They smiled and thrust Ms. October towards Cuba.
I felt Max tense behind me.
Jacob Cuba let go a low grow that rumbled through my bones and into my ears. “Fine. A gift. From my newest recruit.” He nodded to Lysander but looked directly at me. “Another to add to my army.”
“You lay one tooth on me, fang-boy, and I’ll tear you limb from limb when I turn full vamp!” Ms. October shouted, very nearly landing a kick on Jacob Cuba.
“I see.” Jacob Cuba grabbed her snarling, spitting face in his elongated hand and leaned in to her. “You think you will have control over your will, your senses, when I turn you?” He pulled her chin up, stretching her neck taut.
“You tried once, and failed,” Ms. October choked.
“And yet I learn,” returned Cuba. “And apparently, you don’t.”
His mouth opened wide as a chasm, teeth extending forward. I ran, clever already slicing the air. Cuba caught the blade mid-swing and snapped the blade in half while simultaneously biting Ms. October’s neck with a crisp crunch.
Lysander let go of my mentor and friend, grabbed my now limp arm, and yanked me over to Max. I had no more fight as I watched Ms. October’s eyes roll back, her body collapse into Jacob Cuba’s arms, her skin go grey.
And then, thick black ooze snaking from newly made wound in his breast, created by his long rotten fingernail, he pulled Ms. October to his skin to feed, his tongue licking his lips as he did so.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE – DOUBLE
Jacob Cuba yanked Ms. October from his skin and flung her away. She stumbled, collapsing into a trembling ball, one knee on the ground, her arms around the other one. Head down. I tried to run to her but Lysander held me firm next to Max. They both eyed me, lips curling back, teeth bared.
I leaned away, heart racing, arms not near strong enough to deal with two vampires, one fully turned. Squeezing my eyes shut, I held my breath, hoping for some kind of relief, or at least a quick end.
Familiar lips flicked my ear, hissing, “Did you bring the stuff?”
I cracked open my eyes. Lysander and Max were both as close as it was physically possible to be. “Stuff?” I whispered back.
“Yes,” Max said, eyes darting towards Cuba. “Ms. October should have sent it with you. That was the plan anyway.”
“Plan?” I asked dumbly, a tingling numbness flowing over my body.
“Yes,” Max insisted. “I’m a double agent, but not for long if I don’t get the stuff. Now do you have it or not?” He growled, frustration edging his words as I continued to stand there. “Darling, I love you, but you can be such crap under pressure.”
Regaining composure, I ran my fingers over my pocket, feeling for the tubes of muddy liquid. “I have them.”
Max smiled, for real this time and my heart gave a healthy squeeze.
“Good man,” he said. “Now, get them out without anyone . . .”
I didn’t hear the end of the sentence. A screech like metal on metal cleaved the air and Mr. Mercury flew, claws out, landing on Jacob Cuba. In the hissing, biting, slashing, smoky battle that ensued, I pulled out the vials, handing one to Max and the other to Lysander, before uncorking my own.
CHAPTER THIRTY – JOLT
Inky sticky blood splattered the floor. The hissing grew to the scream of a kettle left too long on a burner. Mr. Mercury lashed out with claws and teeth while Jacob Cuba materialized in and out - smoke, then corrupted man, then swirling smoke once more. Each time Mercury managed to catch him, slicing and clawing the Vampire Lord more than before. Their breathing was heavy. Two ancient fighters with far too much hate to stop even when exhausted.
Finally, Mr. Mercury stuck his hand into the middle of the swirling black mass of smoke, claws gripping air.
“He’s going to do it,” Max whispered, vial of muddy orange potion quaking in his grip. “He’s really going to kill Cuba.”
It was all I could do to not uncork the vial then and there and shove it down Max’s throat. I didn’t care about Cuba or Mercury. I wanted my family back. Max and Lysander and the slowly rising Ms. October.
Mr. Mercury’s entire body was in a state of focus. His eyes glared at the epicentre of the swirling mass around his hand. As soon as it materialized, he would rip out Cuba’s heart and likely eat it, that much was obvious. This had been all he wanted. To take the empire. To become Vampire Lord himself, and we had all been his pawns. He didn’t know Max was a double agent. As far as he was concerned Max was Cuba’s right hand man and I was the distraction to keep him busy. If I died doing it, well that was no concern to Mercury. And who knew if he even wanted a peaceful, harmonious, human-friendly vampire life? Not that it mattered. Cuba was insane as demonstrated by his army of migrant-made monsters. He had to go down, and right now Mr. Mercury was the blunt tool who could make it happen.
The smoke swirled, sending forth acrid brimstone and sweet burning wire. My nose wrinkled even as I watched intently, as focused as Mr. Mercury waiting for that perfect moment. It was only at the last second I realized it wasn’t the centre which was becoming solid. A long arm, far away from the centre, firmed and solidified. It’s barely formed hand struck, claws extended. An electric jolt appeared to shake Mercury’s body, like lightning had struck. Followed closely by a wet rip and rending suction. Then twin thumps, one of Mr. Mercury’s body falling to the ground and the other of his head smacking the wall on the other side of the room.
Jacob Cuba regained his form quickly after that, his face and neck already healing at a rapid pace. He looked at all of us, a sneering grin stretching his mouth in a hiss. “So you thought you could defeat me?” He stepped over Mr. Mercury’s already denigrating body as it crumbled to ash. “You, Max? I thought I could trust. But I guess there’s none of that to be had anymore. Lesson learned. And you.” He pointed at me with his long, blood covered finger. “Never one to give up on love, huh? Well now you two can die together. It will be a Shakespearean tragedy that no one will ever hear.”
He darted his eyes from Lysander to Ms. October. Both hadn’t moved since the defeat. Neither showed emotion or even much signs of life.
Cuba dusted off his jacket, smoothing it with his long fingered hands, ignoring the blood he trailed behind on the fabric. “You may have taken my army. You may have tried kill me. But here I still stand and I am not without minions to fight for me. Even if this woman is a mindless slave.” He flicked his finger at Ms. October. “And that man is not much better.” He nodded to Lysander.
Lysander stiffened.
Max and I both stepped back.
“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?” Lysander bellowed, thrusting the vial back into my hands, their formerly snowy face now as red as their eyes.
Jacob Cuba blinked.
“DID YOU JUST CALL ME — A MAN?” Lysander shoved their suit sleeves up, fists already clenching.
Cuba darted his eyes to the side, as if looking for an escape.
“YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK!” they roared.
“No he didn’t, honey,” Ms. October said, striding over, her eyes as crimson as Lysander’s. “Now, what do you say?”
Lysander bared their teeth and hissed, “Time to kick some Vampire Lord ass!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – SLICE
A rumbling growl rolled through our bones, vibrating Jacob Cuba’s deep anger. He spat, black blood splattering the concrete, and puffed up his shoulders. “Come on then!” he taunted Ms. October and Lysander. “You’ll end up no better than Mercury. But die if you want.”
Cuba, Lysander, and Ms. October leaned in, feet on tiptoes, then in a flash of swirling smoke and gnashing teeth the fight was on.
Max leaned in too, ready to join the fray but I grabbed his arm and yanked him back. He opened his mouth to protest my cowardice, but I didn’t come to defeat Cuba. It had never been my goal. Instead, I reached into his pocket, grabbed the vial I had handed to him, and, teeth biting cork, I popped it open and poured its contents down Max’s still screaming throat.
He choked. Doubled over. Threw up sticky maroon globules which stank of both vomit and corpse.
Max tipped his head towards me, his now brown eyes meeting mine. “Why?”
I uncorked my vial, drinking down the contents, and clutching my abdomen against the licking flames of pain. “Because, I love you, and I’ll do anything to get you back,” I said, before throwing up, myself.
A low, sardonic laugh made me look over at Max, who shook his head. “You’re such an idiot,” he said. “A love sick puppy. Worst boyfriend ever.”
My heart dropped. I collapsed to the ground. No matter what I did, I failed. Max still hated me. Human or vampire, I had lost him. What was the point now?
The fight still raged between Cuba, Lysander, and Ms. October. Everything was moving at hyper speed, and without my supernatural power, it was impossible to tell what was happening.
Max’s hand landed heavy on my shoulder. I looked up to see him smiling. “Zero. Don’t take everything so hard. Get up.” He pulled me to him and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I’m not mad. I’m afraid we might die. We can’t fight vampires as humans. We can’t help our friends.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t,” Max said. “You only want me back with you. You are single minded.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“And that,” Max squeezed me tight to his body, beating heart pounding through my skin, “is why I love you so, my stupid little puppy-boy, even if our lives aren’t going to last much longer.”
Lysander flew disjointedly from the tangle of aggression, smashing against the wall, limbs flopping at weird, uncomfortable angles, like those of a broken doll during a child’s rage. Ms. October wasn’t fairing any better. Jacob Cuba grabbed her by the throat and squeezed until a series of pops, one after the other, echoed from the walls, then tossed her into the shadows, her breath exiting with a deflated squeak.
Cuba marched towards us. He was a mess of deep wounds, down to the bone. One eye was completely gone. His right arm hung from a shred of skin on his shoulder and he was limping badly. Still, even in this state, the Vampire Lord had a well of power. We couldn’t out run him. There was no where to hide that he wouldn’t be able to find us. So we waited. Watching the horror as his face bled and his teeth clacked.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” Max said, kissing my cheek.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I replied, squeezing his hand.
“I’m hungry,” Cuba growled. “I’m starved.” He licked his lips, his tongue leaking inky blood down his chin, one tooth missing. “I need to heal and you two have the blood to fix me, but I’m going to have to drain you dry. I hope you don’t mind. Not that I care.” Cuba’s his voice pitched higher and higher, ending in the laugh of a hobby horse, short a rocker, going in circles.
I squeezed Max’s hand tighter. I was a fool. A little dreamer kid who didn’t know the right time or place to do anything. In our half vampire state we might have had a chance but now –
It was if Max knew what I was thinking. He squeezed my hand. “We never would have beat him, no matter how much power we had. I’m glad I’m going to die human with you.”
Jacob Cuba snatched at Max yanking him towards his mouth. I screamed, punching and thrashing, eyes closed, mouth open, trying one last time to stop the horror. Then Max was ripped from my arms and a thud hit the floor. Cracking open one eye I caught the glimpse of Ms. October, sword in hand, and the sliced head of Jacob Cuba, Vampire Lord, firmly in her grasp.
The head was far from dead. It still snapped and hissed, but in a more automatic way. The body crawled and clawed at anything near it. I backed up, shaking violently. Max went to hold me but I put up my hand. “Ms. October,” I said. “You need to take your medicine.”
She nodded and threw the still biting head to Max, before taking out her own vial of muddy orange liquid, downing it quickly.
I waited. Watching to see her double over, to get the foul vampire poison out of her veins. But nothing happened. Or rather, she grew more dusky, her teeth growing longer, her nails losing their shine. “Why isn’t it working?” I asked.
“Because,” came Lysander’s voice from the wall. They were leaning up against it as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Ms. October was already half vampire before Cuba fed on her and filled her with his blood. Now, she’s gone too far.”
“No!” I screamed. “No. We have to do something. We have to stop this. We can go back to Madame Morre and get her to –”
“It’s okay, love.” Ms. October stroked my sweat-damp hair. “It’s okay. I can live like this. If you and Max are back together and whole. I’m fine with that.”
“Well, I’m not.” Lysander pushed off the wall and walked over, kicking Cuba’s scrabbling body as they passed it by.
“Well there’s no time to stop it,” Ms. October said, a frustrated edge cutting her words. “Madame Morre is out of ingredients, we’re out of vials, and our time has ticked away.”
“We aren’t out of vials.” Lysander pointed. “Zero has mine.”
Ms. October clicked her tongue. “No, child. That’s for you. You above anyone has to survive this mess. You still have work to do. You need to make the world right for every living soul.”
Lysander stood tall. “You don’t think I will?” They walked over to the headless, grasping corpse and lifted it. “The world is trying to erase people like me. I need power. I need endless strength. And I’m not about to give up what’s right in front of me to become invisible again.”
Max shook his head. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“So what’s going to change?” Lysander shrugged. “This’ll make fighting a whole lot easier.” They winked at Ms. October. “Now, you get that potion into you and turn back to your sassy old self. I have a vampire lord to drain dry.”
While Lysander began their meal, I handed Ms. October Lysander’s potion, trying not to think about what was happening just beside us. In moments she was back to her brown eyed, cocoa skinned self, a slight gold glow to her that hadn’t been before.
Lysander, tossing the much deflated corpse aside, was stronger, taller, and more powerful. They grabbed Jacob Cuba’s head and tore it into four pieces, the skull cracking with a hollow snap. “I’m going to burn him. Spread him all over the world and shoot him into space if I can. He will never recover,” Lysander spat.
“So you’re the Vampire Lord now,” Max said. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Fight the good fight,” Lysander smiled. “And still host some fabulous balls. I’m going to look hella good in gem tones with my skin so luminescent.” They snapped their fingers. “I’ll need a whole new wardrobe!”
Ms. October laughed. “That you will, darling. But no world domination, okay?”
“Not on the agenda,” Lysander agreed, then they winked at Max and me, “At least, not till after the wedding.”
“Wedding?” I asked, brows knitting in confusion. “Us?”
Max grabbed me up in a hard hug, lifting my feet off the ground. “Oh hell yes, Zero! After all this you better marry me, you stupid lovable man!”
“About time,” Ms. October smiled.
“Damn right,” Lysander replied. “I’ll make all the arrangements.”