Blood Phoenix: Rebirth, page 4
“I did.”
His lack of elaboration made me want to shake him. Instead, I shook the first set of pancakes onto a plate and set them in front of James. “And?”
“And what?” He smiled in fractions until his fangs extended over his bottom lip.
“And tell me about it, about her. What was she like? What did she look like? Was she nice?” I turned back to the stove, then stopped. “Do you know my father?”
“Only from business.” James cut into the pancakes with determination.
“Who is he?” Movement fled my limbs, leaving me tottering in place.
“Aderyn. Aderyn Tanguy. His first name means bird, and his second means fire warrior.” James cut another triangle from his stack of pancakes and stuffed them in his mouth.
“Are they good?”
“Just as good as your mother’s.”
I grabbed the plate and swung it back to the stove with a small clatter. “Good. Now start talking and no more riddles.”
“It’s not a riddle.”
I slammed the pan into the chipped counter. Surprise flung me back as debris rattled over the floor, wood splintered, and half of the counter collapsed. “Oh, my shit. So, I’m that kind of vampire?”
“That depends, are you going to beam me with a skillet if I don’t answer your questions?”
Shaking it at him, I said, “Don’t fuck with me.”
But I couldn’t keep from giggling. I held the ability to demolish an entire house in my hands. I covered most of my face with the skillet, peering over the rim at him and cheesing like an idiot behind the cast iron.
“Let’s start here. Your father was a bird of fire—a phoenix, a light warrior. I met him twice on business for my queen. He mated with your mother, whom I met a month later, just two days after she found she was pregnant with you.”
“Hold it right there.” My brain fought to catch up. A phoenix? Like the gigantic flaming bird? And my mom? “How does a bird impregnate a human female?”
“They’re called bosex or, literarily-speaking, were-creatures. Like most mythical and magickal individuals, they have the ability to shift shape or take on a human form for an extended period of time.”
“And this is common? Like, are we all part mythos here?”
“Let’s go back to that key phrase we talked about earlier, shall we? Only, with one minor revision—this has only happened once before.”
“So,” I said with hesitation, “I wasn’t human before?”
“What do you think?”
No, I guess with my current strain of luck, I wouldn’t have been. “That’s why you met my mother?”
“My assignment was to clear you and sign off that you were completely human or kill you if you weren’t.” A careful, blank look masked his thoughts.
“But I wasn’t human.”
“No. And I have a feeling I’m not getting any more pancakes.”
The frying pan wavered in my hand, but I thought better of it. I’d never know about my parents if I clobbered James upside the head. I returned his pancakes and leaned over the island as he shifted them around. They seemed debris-free enough for him to take another bite.
“So, hi. I’ve had a life-altering few days here. My whole world has come crashing down around me, and I’m suddenly a killer vampire. Can you focus on that, maybe? Just for a few more minutes.”
“Perfectly capable of focusing, but you need to ask better questions.”
Oh, really? “Why did you sign me off as human?”
He took his time chewing. “Because, if you hadn’t been human it would have been my obligation to eliminate you.”
“Says fucking who?”
Another bite of pancake. Really? Selfish, twat-face… I took his plate back and grabbed my own fork, slicing into the pancakes. The moist carbohydrates relieved as much as the coffee, but I ate them anyway.
His chewing slowed to a stop. I didn’t like the way he regarded me. “Our queen…and my mentor.”
“Your mentor?”
“Synonymous with lover in this instance.”
Fork and plate lowering, I shook myself back to reality. Was I in a Twilight Zone episode? Some surreal alternate universe? “This is absurd. Do you realize how much this changes?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why would you do this to me?” Why would he hijack my emotions, try so hard to make me feel something for him? Why bring my mother into this? Did he expect me to take down his queen? I barely kept Ari and myself alive for the last five years, how the hell would I take down the queen of the vampires? Anxiety broke. He’d thrown on too many damn straws. “I wish you’d just left me alone.”
I dropped the plate to the rubble-covered floor, walking to the living room and up the stairs. The bloody old bed seemed like better company at the moment and far less disgusting.
CHAPTER 7
Pounding echoed against the soft yellow bathroom tile, snapping me awake. The bed was so disgusting, I’d taken to the bathtub. The pounding persisted until I put my hand on the bedroom door handle.
Unwilling to open it, I stepped back.
“What?”
“Open the door, Ria.” James’s level tone pricked my nerves rather than eased them.
“Why? So you can finish your assignment and do away with me to please your fucking…”—whore—“…queen?”
“Would you please open the damn door?”
“Tell me why I should.”
“Look, I am trying to be respectful here. I can easily break it down.”
I unlocked the door. James entered, and I backed away.
He shook his head like he’d lost patience with me.
“Stop it.”
“You, stop it.”
James held out a silver chain with a star-burst-shaped charm and small holes around the top of the hook. It made the room throb around me. “I just want to give you this.”
“Presents aren’t going to fix anything. None of this is right.”
“That’s not why I got it for you.” He motioned for me to turn, and curiosity got the better of me. The metal hit with a shock. I lifted my hair as he clasped the chain. The silver made the world vibrate.
“What is this thing?” Concern proved elusive with the charm against my skin.
“The silver charm has a small pocket in the center that I’ve put some dirt in. I had it made the day we ran into each other.”
The day we met. He’d been stalking me. “You really are a psychopath.”
“I’m a product of my environment.” He traced the chain across my collarbones. Images surfaced, but a less-intense rush hit me, and I kept them from taking over. Already, I felt stronger, not like the change made me more stable, but my head cleared, and warmth seeped back into my bones.
“What does it do? I obviously don’t need it to travel. Or is this still close enough to home for me?” Not many vampire stories used the dirt myth anymore, and I’d heard little about it since Dracula.
“According to myth, it’s the dirt from your grave. You died here. Carrying dirt isn’t common practice any more. This, however, should stabilize you until you adjust.”
“Right.” My brain told me to quit my bickering. So instead, I mumbled a thank you.
“You’re welcome. Now, we need to feed you again and test your capabilities.” He went still. If I hadn’t been able to sense him through our metaphysical connection, I wouldn’t have known he was there. But those threads stretched taut between us, making me aware of his every heartbeat.
“I won’t kill anyone else,” I said. He couldn’t make me. He really couldn’t. I had to make my own decisions, no matter what kind of control he or his queen-bitch-lover thought they had over me, but I was practically drowning in my own thirst.
“Insert that phrase here again. Although, that’s not exactly true. There is a group who believes in a common good, but our queen has decreed that we leave no one alive for fear of discovery.”
I inhaled slow and deep. No throwing a fit, God help me. Not that God helped me out much before. I needed to act like an adult, damn it. I exhaled. “I will not kill anyone else. And you will help me make sure I don’t have to.”
There, I sounded like a bitch, but adult-like at least. If he tried to make me into this blood-thirsty monster, I’d ditch him.
“You have to realize you’re not human anymore, Ria. You might actually have to kill your own food, or you starve. Then, you’ll only slaughter more people, but I’m sure you already knew that.” James extended his arm to indicate the door. “Now, shall we?”
“There is no reason I need to kill someone if I can keep them alive. So get over yourself.” Fury built inside me, mounting faster than I could disable it.
“I act as my queen decrees.”
Unless, it otherwise suited him.
“Well, your queen can decree her ass into the twenty-first century and gnaw on a cow because I will not, repeat, will not, kill again.” His passiveness ignited my fury, making me poke him in the chest, hard, and not just once but at least a half a dozen times before my feet left the ground.
In one fluid movement, James slammed me so hard that flakes of paint and ceiling dust fell on our heads.
Surprisingly, the impact offered me no pain.
He held my arms above me and snarled low and animalistic. His nose pressed against mine. His face so perfectly calm that, without his snarl, I would have thought he was about to kiss me.
I pulled at my hands, but James slammed me against the wall again—hard enough to send me partway through the sheetrock and rain more of the ceiling onto us.
I sucked in dust, dazed from the flashing images clouding my vision, and spoke as calmly as possible, “Let go of me, James.”
But he didn’t.
I added a small please.
James released my arms but loomed close.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Thank you.”
He leaned into me. I covered his mouth with my fingers, and he rewarded them with a kiss. One I didn’t particularly want.
I slipped out from between him and the broken wall and went for the door. “You’re both psychotic—you and that demented queen of yours.”
Down the stairs and out the back door, I paused on the porch and waited for James to follow. His car sat across the lot, small, black, and shining under the slivered moon. My hair flipped around my face, and the wind wisped chilly wet air against my skin—typical early spring city air.
James stood at my back, his presence evident on my flesh. He’d moved silently through the house. Reaching his hand out, his fingertips caressed one of my curls, sending a shiver across me. With my hair clinging around my eyes in a red haze, I peeked around my shoulder at him.
“Don’t do that. Come on, let’s get this over with. Where are we going, and how are we getting there?”
“Manhattan, and we’re driving.” He opened the passenger side door of his little black car for me. The soft top was up, and the inside smelled of Armor All and human sweat with a hint of blood—strange but good—and I relaxed into the soft leather seat.
“Ever been to the Stitch?” James fell gracefully behind the wheel.
“Yeah, once. I had a date that brought me there. The place was expensive.”
“Well, this round should be significantly cheaper.” He cracked a half smile, the same one he’d given me at Maria’s, the one that’d made me agree to a date.
Tension strained and silence sat between us for the rest of the trip. This part of the city was unfamiliar to me, and I saw several street names I’d never heard of. Herbert Ave. Marguerite Ave. Plainfield Ave. None of them meant anything to me, so I stopped paying attention.
Instead, I closed my eyes and focused. Meditation helped me to resolve tough situations. My breathing slowed, my back straightened, my muscles loosened, and the vibrations of the moving car filled my body.
I pushed my consciousness at my Ajna chakra, or the third eye, and concentrated on clarity and intuition. A white lotus with two petals floated in front of the blackness of my closed lids. Ajna was the chakra I used during meditation because my old yogi told me that my strongest force-centers were my Ajna and my Anahata—the heart chakra. Both promoted clarity, intuition, compassion, and equilibrium, and hopefully, prepared me to drink blood without killing someone else.
I was calm and barely breathing when we arrived at the Stitch. No messing it up this time. If I killed someone else, I didn’t think my conscience could handle it.
Rectangles of glass, surrounded by black wooden frames and panels, made up the outside of the Stitch, including the door. A red, neon “BAR” sign hung in the window above.
James guided me into a well-lit room that resembled a hallway. Our present location fell away and an avalanche of images flickered before my eyes.
Wisps of black hair against a molten pink sky. Orange pyre glowing against bright faces. Wild flowers in yellow and white across an expanse of green. Red blood soaking a heavy purple garment. Sparkling blue and reflections of white as a bucket broke the surface of a river.
Ipushed his hand away, brushing against his leather jacket.
“Sorry,” he murmured, a bit dazed.
Once inside, James bought me a fruity martini called the Lingerie, and he left me to my own devices.
Meandering around the open floor plan gave me a spot smack in the center—a wide table with an open end.
A polite version of my maker sat with me, easily bringing a smile to my lips. His name was Mike, and subtlety didn’t seem to be in his repertoire.
I took him to the bathroom, promising myself I would stop in time. I wouldn’t kill this man.
But I warred with myself.
His heart slowed.
My superego tried to knock some sense into me, screamed for me to stop drinking, while my id told me that I wanted more and more and more. My ego fought both truths but hesitated too long before making a decision.
Mike’s heart stuttered, and I fell, scrambling backward against the stall door. Déjà vu dropped over me as Mike grasped for his life.
I screamed and fell into a void.
CHAPTER 8
Iwoke in James’s little black convertible. A light mist slipped over my cheeks and forehead. The street lamps popped into view above me, one by one, as if someone hit me on the head. James drove with apprehension tugging his features. He hadn’t indicated he knew I’d woken until he spoke. “You all right?”
“Perfect.” The heavy sarcasm in my voice made me flinch.
“What happened?”
“What do you think happened? I killed someone else. Someone perfectly nice and not a fucktard. Now, how I got in your car? I figure you had something to do with that because everything else is a big old blank for me.”
His hands slid down the steering wheel, but he didn’t take his gaze off the road. “Since I am the one who saved your ass, let’s get something clear. No more screaming. No more leaving victims to be disposed of with holes in their necks. No more of anything that can lead someone back to you. You hear me?”
“Oh, yes, mighty sultan of my inexperience. Do give me the lashes I deserve.” A heavy weight sat on my heart. Why did James have to be such a bastard?
He pulled up to a red light. “Don’t you understand what will happen if humans find out about us? Why do you think we kill when we eat?”
We pulled away from the light, and he spoke again. “So that things like this don’t happen, but it’s my fault you don’t know how to close up the wounds. That’s my bad. I should have taught you how to deal with all of this before I let you feed. Usually, we teach newbs about this before they are changed.”
“Wait. What? Taught, as in like a class taught?”
“As in training, like boot camp.”
“Oh my God, you are not serious. Boot camp for vamps? This is like a bad sitcom waiting to happen.”
“I’m afraid so. And more of a B-rated slasher-flick than a sitcom. We’re really not that funny.”
Something clicked. He’d told me that he worked in Public Relations—the face of the vampire public, the one who interacted the most with the humans. “You recruit humans to become vampires, don’t you?”
“Don’t be silly. I decide whether or not the humans are allowed to become vampires, then I introduce them into our world once I’ve decided. The amount of research, planning, and evaluating involved with the process is extensive. It’d be idiotic of me to reveal myself during recruitment.”
“And what happens if you decide that they’re not going to become a vampire?”
“What do you think happens?”
Coldness swept over me. My vision unfocused and refocused at random. People walked the streets of Manhattan in small groups, moving from bar to bar. Eventually, every one of them would die for some reason or another, but how many of them were going to die because of vampires? How many vampires existed? How many people made up a normal vampire’s diet? And most importantly, how many people were going to die because of me?
I pulled my knees up to my chest, put my cheek to them, and looked out the window. Images flashed behind my eyes, registering with my brain, but I lost the flow of continuum—friends laughing, hanging on each other for balance, happy.
I missed Ari like crazy, and I needed to get a hold of her somehow. I’d have to call our neighbor, Mrs. Dugger, the bagel shop, or the supermarket. Not likely I had her work numbers in the bags James packed for me. I could never remember her work numbers, and since we couldn’t afford cell phones, I’d have to rely on Mrs. Dugger.
We pulled onto a highway shortly after my silent declaration. I sank forward against the seat belt with my head between my knees and the toes of my shoes dangling over the edge of the seat. Soon, James parked between two large green dumpsters behind a line of tall buildings. They both smelled of rot. I really hoped we weren’t here to dump a body, Mike’s body.
“What are we doing here?”
“Come on, Ria. You’re a vampire now. You have an eidetic memory, and I’ve already told you,” James said.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just had my fourth traumatic experience in forty-eight hours. So either be nice to me or shut up.”
