The Vampire Recipe, Part 2
Sorry it's taken this long - helping daughter #2 move into a new house. And other excuses, none of them very relevant. Anyway, here's the ending. Comments appreciated.
A lamp beside the
sofa clicked on, as did a hum from outside.
Before she could position herself to jump past him through the front
door, he slipped inside, carrying more wood in one arm and a shotgun in the
other.
He shrugged at her questioning stare. “It’s loaded to bring down as many of them as
I can, just in case. They’re weaker, if
they came looking for your chocolates.
Can’t stop them, not yet, but give it time, and I can.”
“I don’t think so.”
Stacking the wood in the fireplace, Barrett remained
silent. Working methodically, he
pretended he hadn’t heard her.
“Look, I get it. You
know they want me to cook up the chocolates.
Let me do it. Lure them into a
trap. Use me for bait.” The idea came to her as she was speaking.
“No.” He didn’t turn
around as he struck a match. “They’ll
take you before I can stop them.”
“What’s the one way you can be sure they’ll all die?”
Grandpere never said a word about killing them, only that she had a duty to
provide their protective chocolates.
That got his attention.
Turning to her, he seemed to be weighing his answer.
“You may as well tell me.
I’m the only person in this room who knows what you do.” Sitting on the sofa, she tucked her legs
under her and drew one of the blankets over her lap. It hid the bloodstain on the knees of her
jeans.
Rising, he left the fire alone to kneel before her and take
her hands in his. “Give me the secret
ingredient. Let me make the
chocolates. I’ll get them when they come
to your kitchen.”
“How? How will you
kill them?”
Looking into the growing flames in the fireplace, he shook
his head. “Fire. Fire’s the only way to make sure, when
they’re vulnerable. It’ll mean burning
down your business, but . . . .”
“What about the other
shops around mine?”
“I’ll make sure the fire department is nearby. Several fire trucks.”
“How will you get out?
Alive, I mean.” She couldn’t
imagine the violence it would take to start a fire of such magnitude it would
destroy the creatures who’d scared her grandpere for his entire life. He had to
be planning on a bomb.
“I take my chances. That’s what I do. Tell me how they know the blood chocolates
are ready. I’ll make them.”
She thought of her grandpere’s arms, scissored with
scars. His legs. His torso. He’d cooked the chocolates too
long.
“You don’t have the
one crucial ingredient.”
“Tell me what it is, and I’ll make sure it’s never
manufactured again.”
Her smile didn’t reassure herself or him.
“It’s my blood. My
family line carries the immunity they crave. So you’ll have to kill me to end
the blood chocolates. But I think you
already knew that.”
* * * * *
Barrett stared at her as if memorizing her face. “It was the only answer. We didn’t know for sure it was the family
line, since there’re other vamps around the world who seem to have immunities
we can’t crack.”
“What took you so long? Why are you just getting to
Wrightsville?”
He looked away. “We
didn’t know about your grandfather or your family, not until recently when a
flurry of killings that started out in the serial murders section got
transferred to me. They were all vamp
murders, disguised to look like serial killings. This clan’s clever. Until today and your friend.”
“If you knew they were in Wrightsville, why didn’t you try
to stop them?” She wanted to be able to
blame someone, anyone for Allis’s death.
“I’m not clairvoyant, if that’s what you’re implying. I was
following a hunch. Wrightsville hasn’t
had a vamp killing in hundreds of years.”
“Until me, my family
has always done its duty.” Why hadn’t
she believed her grandpere’s tales? “I
must do mine now. It’s the only way.”
“Dammit.” Sitting beside her, Barrett lifted the afghan
covering her feet and began rubbing the sole of her feet with slow, practiced
circles. “He had no right to keep you in
the dark.”
“Who, grandpere?” She
felt herself relaxing under his ministrations despite her fervent hopes she’d
grow to hate this man who seemed to know a hell of a lot more than she did
about her own family.
“No, my boss. My late
boss. He should have taken you in when
it was clear there’d been a shift in the dynamics. It’s a clear indicator of, um, unrest. That’s a good enough word. Didn’t take me twenty-four hours to find you,
he should have done it when your grandfather died.”
“Why would he? And
who is he, exactly?”
Barrett sighed, shutting his eyes. “Head of Paranormal
Activities at the FBI. It’s coordinated
with the military, and we share offices and intel. We’ve systemically run a
boatload of weird shit to ground and eliminated it in the bigger, urban areas,
where we thought they hunted exclusively. Then Will, head of my division, got
himself killed. Lunch for the beasties.
Got tired of riding the desk and his laptop, wanted a little excitement
to wake him up. He didn’t wake up, not
after the master vamp in a tiny fish camp town in South Carolina finished him
off.”
He sounded more bitter than angry, Langie decided.
“Who’s in charge
now?”
“Three guesses.” He
lifted one eyebrow and nodded in the affirmative.
“Can you stop them?”
She was afraid to hear his answer.
“Yes. If you’ll let me do what I do, and stay out of your
kitchen. Let me see your arms.”
She knew why he asked.
She’d seen her grandpere’s arms just that once, and wondered as a child
why he was ribboned with scars. Rolling
back the sleeves of her sweater, she brandished her clear skin.
“They can smell your blood.
It’s like the most expensive perfume.
There’s a way to duplicate the scent.
At least, that’s what my techies tell me. We fool them into thinking they’re getting
their magic candy.” His smile lacked
humor.
“And if they aren’t fooled?
Then what?” She had a vague idea
that Allis would be just the start of a campaign to get her to do their
bidding. Naw, nothing vague about it.
“We punt.” Taking his
jacket off, he slung it over a chair and bent to strike a match to the kindling
in the stone-faced fireplace.
“Merciful heavens.”
“That’s about the extent of it.” A wry smile, and his face transformed. “You in?”
“Do I have any choice?”
“Sure. Get out of
Dodge. Drive until the wheels fall
off. Don’t use your real name, get a new
identity, and get blood transfusions every chance you get. Don’t donate blood. Pray they don’t find you.”
Swallowing hard, Langie tried to envision life somewhere
else. “What, no plastic surgery?”
Barrett thought a minute. “Might not be a bad idea. Change
your looks, wear tons of strong perfume.”
“I was kidding.” She
couldn’t run. No way. If she helped him,
maybe they’d win. Allis’s death
surrounded her like a blanket smothering her face. “Those bastards have to pay for what they
did. Not just to Allis, but to my grandfather. To my family.”
A black hue swept through his eyes. “Let’s get started, then. I have my kit in the car, I’ll be back.”
He hurried through the door to the outside as if afraid
she’d try to slip out with him, slamming it shut behind him so quickly he
almost caught his shirt tail.
Kit? What the heck
what he have in mind? What did she know
about him, anyway? He hadn’t shown her
any ID, she hadn’t asked for it, to be honest, but still. . . . For all she knew, he was one of them. Her stomach roiled. He’d recognized her by the scent of her blood
in the bite mark she’d made on her hand.
God, how stupid could she be? If he was one of them, though, he’d have
killed her by now. Or at the very least, forced her to make some blood
chocolates. Only she knew the process
took a long time – days and days of preparation, then they had to age
sufficiently for their efficacy to kick in.
Shutting the door and locking it behind him once again,
Barrett dropped a large metal briefcase on the sofa beside her. “Didn’t see anything out there. We may be
safe, but I’m not going to count on it.”
Swallowing hard, Langie edged towards the fireplace and its
brass poker. “So why’d you light the
fire? I thought you didn’t want any signs we’re here.”
“It’s only a couple of hours until dawn. They’ll have to find their nests, go to
ground. We have today to figure this
out, then it’s war. I know how they
operate.” Bent over the box, he began
setting up a laptop and a case of syringes on the coffee table. “Got an internet card, I can analyze your
blood with this contraption here and send the info to Washington. It shouldn’t take long for us to have an
answer, they’ve been working on one for the others.”
“You mean the other humans forced to give the vamps what
they want?”
He nodded. “It’s mutation of some sort that’s hardwired into
your DNA. Every new generation gets
ferreted out by the bloodsuckers. Allis
bought you some time. Not much, but a little.”
He fiddled with the laptop and brought up a screen. “Now we’re cookin’,
no pun intended. I’m connected with the
lab in Texas.”
Despite the nice fire crackling away, Langie shivered.
He didn’t raise his eyes from the computer’s screen. His dark hair, longish at the nape of his
neck, curled over the collar of his black shirt. Dark clothes, dark man, she thought. Why was he hiding in this cabin if he was one
of the good guys? Where was his white
stallion? Why hadn’t he spirited her
away to the castle with FBI agents guarding the moat to keep her safe?
“I need a sample. You’re the one with the magic
potion.” He shrugged. “It won’t hurt. At least, not much.” Flicking the end of a syringe, he gestured
for her to give him her arm.
“What’re you going to do with it? And why do you have a zillion
more of those long needles in there?” She gestured at the box.
“Run it thru this scanner on this,” he held up a disk.
Silence surrounded them as she eyed the needle, until a soft
cry sent her heart thumping peanut butter. “Do you hear that?” she asked.
“No, what?” Cocking
his head, he glanced at the door. “What did you hear?”
“I’m not sure. The wind on the roof? We’re surrounded by
pines. Could be needles falling.”
Rising, she pulled the afghan around her shoulders and
walked to the door, pressing her ear to the wood. Her hearing, always acute,
sharpened even more. “There it goes
again.”
This time she heard it more clearly. “A voice. I hear
someone calling my name. Come here, listen!”
“Impossible. You’re
hallucinating.”
“Langie.” A woman’s
voice penetrated the logs. “Langie, open
up, I need you.”
“God! Did you hear
that? It’s Allis! Open the door!” Fumbling with the locks, Langie tried to get
them to work, but they resisted her tugging and jerking. “What’s wrong with
them, I can’t get them to open?”
“That’s because I used magic.” Laughing, Barrett rocked back on his heels
and watched Langie gape at him. “Kidding, what did you think?”
“I think I want you to open this door. There’s someone out
there calling me. My God, it is Allis.”
“Can’t be. Come here,
let me get the sample.” He gestured with
his hand for her to turn around, and she felt a tug in her muscles so hard she
almost fell to the floor. If she’d been made of steel bones and metal muscles,
the magnet pulling her outside couldn’t have exerted a stronger pull.
Fear gave her the courage to grab the door handle and hang
on. “Stop it,” she cried. “Open the door for Allis!”
Rushing to her side, Barrett locked her in his arms. “They’ll
take you before you can blink.”
She’d never felt worse in her life. If she didn’t find Allis, she’d die.
“I have to go! Can’t
you feel it? It’s going to rip me
apart. My God, help me!” She could feel her organs straining at her
muscles, her skin stretching taut as a drum.
“Water, it’s the only way.
Let go, Langie, hang onto me.”
The power pulling her would have smashed her through the wood
logs if Barrett hadn’t grabbed her up in his arms and run with her into a back
room. Locking the door behind them while
he held her, he dropped her in an old-fashioned porcelain tub and cranked the
handles. Cold water poured over her feet
as Barrett forced her body to stay in the tub.
The pain inside her crescendoed until she thought she’d explode with
it. The water rose slowly, soaking her
legs, then her hips, and finally, up to her chest, making breathing easier.
As the cold water poured over the edge of the tub, soaking
Barrett as well, he turned off the taps.
“Now take a deep breath and submerge yourself. Stay under the water as long as you can
before you take your next breath. The
water will block their calling you.”
The water seeped away the pain slowly. She’d kill herself
before she would take any more of this agony.
Gulping in a big chunk of air, she slid her head under the water again
and again. Barrett’s arms never left her
shoulder and stomach, forcing her deeper.
Only as the top of her head disappeared into the cold water
did the pain ease up. She could feel the
fire inside her slowly dying. Was this
how it felt when you passed away, she wondered?
Was it from the fire into the ice?
* * * * *
“We’ve got to get away from here. They’re calling to your blood.”
“As if I didn’t know.” Pale with pain, Langie kept her hands snapped
tight against her ears. “Now I know how
the sirens got the upper hand.”
“Can you stand it long enough to get in the Jeep? I’ll drive like a bat out of hell away from
here.” He was soaked to the skin as well
and shivering almost as violently as she.
“If you can’t get me free, just kill me.” She meant every word. “And don’t let the
bastards find me before the bugs do.”
“Charming image, but I get the point. Okay, let’s get you
out of here.” Locking his arms under
hers, he helped her sit up in the full tub.
After she stood, sluicing water, he lifted her into his arms and hurried
to the front door.
Trembling against him, Langie concentrated on
breathing. If she could focus on
something else, maybe the pain would ease up a sec. So she chose the hair at the bottom of his
neck, where it veeed into his chest. Counting one, two, three, four. Over and
over again as she stared at each and every hair.
“Ready?”
She nodded. “I’m freezing.”
“It’s going to get colder.”
The wind struck her like icy needles through her wet
clothing as he opened the door. She
wondered how he managed the locks while holding her, but she was too cold to care. She blamed her frozen senses for dulling the smell thrown in
her face as he hesitated on the cabin’s threshold. When it hit her, she almost retched.
“What’s that God-awful stink?”
Silent, he pivoted three hundred and sixty degrees, as if
checking every corner of the surrounding forest for enemies. "Them."
"Let’s get out of here,” she mumbled through stiff lips.
Wrenching open the Jeep’s door, he tossed her inside. “Put on your seatbelt. It’s going to get
rough.”
Fumbling with fingers made clumsy with the sub-zero
temperature, she couldn’t help staring around the Jeep, searching the shadows
for any signs of whatever had found the cabin. “Where is it? The one that found us?”
“Went for reinforcement,s is my bet.” Gunning the engine, Barrett popped the
clutch. “Hang on.”
Fishtailing, the Jeep sprang from its parking spot like a
cat shocked with a cattle prod. Gray and
black shadows rippled across the windshield so quickly they made Langie feel
dizzy. She didn’t know how he could
drive, the shadows in front of them were as dark as the tinted glass in a
mobster’s limo.
Shifting gears, Barrett kept his foot solidly on the
gas. A shaky wobble, then Jeep righted
itself.
“Pothole, don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I think we’ve
outrun them.”
“I don’t think so.”
He didn’t know what she knew. That the vamps could bring her to them if she
wouldn’t come voluntarily. She should
have told him escape was impossible, but she’d hoped her grandfather had made a
mistake. The vamps always came to him,
he’d said, but tradition promised she could be summoned.
Whomp. The Jeep
shimmied as if it had been whacked with a giant sledgehammer.
When she’d tried to escape from the cabin, they must have
used their power to call her. Another
whomp, and the Jeep slowed down. She felt the power jerking her like a
marionette’s strings.
Spinning, the Jeep did a one-eighty, facing the direction
they’d come, the engine whining as Barrett kept his foot on the gas and they
went nowhere.
“What the hell?” He jerked the clutch and tried to force the
Jeep to move.
“That’s what this is.
Hell. Stay out of the way. If I can appease them, maybe they’ll leave you
alone.” Unclicking the belt, she slid
from the front seat before he could stop her.
The black shadows swarmed her like locusts on green
corn. She thought of the sunny beach,
the blue blue of the sky, the sound of the front door bell at the chocolate
shop. But the images wouldn't stay in her head.
Freezing air, colder than the bottom of a winter lake, held her in its clawed grasp. Was this death, she wondered, or a different version of hell. In the long run, it didn't matter.
She was lost. No one would find her, no one living, that is, when the vampires were finished with her. The truth was as bitter as myrrh in her mouth.
She forced one word out, a whisper, before she let herself be taken. "Barrett."
He never heard her.
