Darlings of Darkness: A Vampire Anthology Part 138

Chapter 14.

The 'G' Letter While I sat on a row of aluminum bleachers near one corner of the gym, I glanced to see where Michael and Blick were. It was easy to spot them. They stalked around the parameters of the very large, very empty gym in full commando outfits, all black, all tightly clothed, and armed to the teeth with a variety of automatic weapons. Images of Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible came to mind and I stifled another giggle. It was obvious to me the zombies were long gone. But they had to contain the situation according to J's wishes. So I sat and waited while they checked the outlining rooms adjacent to each wall of the gym. My best guess was that the gym, which Blick referred to as his training center, was the size of four football fields stacked two by two. It was beyond vast. I a.s.sumed all the archangels' training centers were the same size.

The voice inside my head beamed, "Think of this place full of zombies coming at you, gal."

Shut up, I promptly replied.

In the past that comment would have made me literally sick to my stomach. My stupid telepathy was developing a mind of its own as it grew in strength. That worried me. It was exhausting keeping up with the mental jabs I'd get. I wondered how I could quiet the inner voice. I'll solve that another day, I thought. Right now, I was feeling great despite the fact that we were wasting our time looking for zombies. That was the guy's scene anyways, not mine. I was in too good a mood to let anything bother me, thanks to the mind meld with J.

I hummed "The Pretender" by The Foo Fighters as I played with the fastener on the machete stuck to my right leg. Michael had insisted I 'go to battle' --as he put it-- armed with something. I'd agreed to wear two sawed-off shotguns strapped to each leg and a couple of machetes stuffed in the back of my black vest. I felt ridiculous, like I was the girl in Resident Evil about to mow down some zombies. But I hadn't actually seen any, so I was losing interest fast.

Thankfully, I could think clearly again. J healed the fraction in my mind he had caused during our mind meld. I thought he had wanted to kill me. But that hadn't been his intention at all. I felt more aware, more alive, fully engaged, and ready to launch every vampire power I had in my possession. Flexing my elbow as I extended my arm, I admired the new olive complexion that had replaced my pale skin color. My skin was very tan, almost golden like Michael's.

J's words kept playing over and over in my head. "I've underestimated you. You could be a real a.s.set to the team." I didn't know if that was good or bad. Actually, I was happy just to be alive. He could have turned my brain to Southern fried chop suey. That's how Lynn referred to anyone who had lost their wits. Or I could have ended up one sandwich short of a picnic. I giggled out loud. I loved her sayings. She texted that one to me often when she was upset with anyone online who disagreed with her last theory about Ash's character, Maxwell. I found her theories fascinating and fairly accurate according to my own research I'd done about vampire mythology and folklore. I enjoyed her flare for communication because it helped me learn more colloquialisms. Something I couldn't pick up from reading the urban dictionary. Oh wait! Instantly it dawned on me that I had forgotten to close our chat earlier. I had left her hanging. Good grief!

I decided to do some 'tayloring' while I waited on the guys. What harm could it do? I removed my iPhone from my back pocket and opened a few photo alb.u.ms. I selected a picture to send to Lynn. It was one of my favorite pics of Ashton, a still photo from the promotional posters of Blood Realm's first season. He stood in the center of the cast, a few inches in front of the others. His wavy, dark hair was tossed back over his head with one delicious long curl falling along his right cheek. He wore a blood red T-s.h.i.+rt and dark jeans. The famous long black leather trench coat, collar turned up, completed his vampire attire. And of course, he had lowered his forehead just slightly to peer at us with his chocolate brown eyes. The vampire look is what we called it. I added a *woah* and my capital R signature to the text, so Lynn would know it was from me. (It was possible that she hadn't put my new number in her phone yet.) I hit the Send b.u.t.ton. The text message went through instantly. "Wow, what a great connection we have here," I snickered.

Glancing up, I noticed Michael was approaching from the center of the gym, without Blick.

"Find anything?" I asked.

"Nothing except these sports drink bottles. They are scattered everywhere in the adjoining rooms, everywhere."

"Sorry, I didn't notice," I replied as I returned to looking at my phone. I double checked what I had sent to Lynn to make sure it had gone through successfully. Since my connectivity in h.e.l.l was poor at best, making sure my emails or text messages went through was a habit I realized I didn't need to bother with anymore.

Michael towered over me while I sat on the lowest bench, preoccupied with my phone. "You're just too busy with that phone to notice anything around you. Can you focus?" he said.

I gazed at his hand, refusing to make eye contact with Michael. "May I?" I gestured to the bottle in his hand.

He tossed a clear plastic bottle to me.

I sat the bottle on the bench beside me and took a photo of its front and back labels. "Thank you," I muttered to Michael. I decided to examine both labels first. The 'G' letter was similar to the one I had seen on Blick's athletic wear, similar but not exact. Instead of the signature orange lightning bolt zigzagged across the center of the letter, this bottle had a red lightning bolt positioned vertically as if it were pointing up and down. Some liquid remained in the bottle.

"I don't recall a sports drink being emerald green, do you?" Michael asked.

The color was darker than the apple green of the popular flavor.

"That's certainly not sponsored by G," Michael continued, glancing at other plastic bottles scattered around.

I continued examining the bottle, trying to read the product details on the back label. I swirled the remaining drink in the bottle around and smelled it. Vinegar or dead skunk or a combination of both. Why was that smell was so familiar? I wondered.

When I heard Michael kick a few bottles away from him, it dawned on me.

It was what Cedric smelled like the day I was cornered by him and Wally. Father's latest business venture. After reading all of the fine print on the labels, I said to Michael. "It's wine. It's fermented, but it's still wine. Just like the kind my father was making in h.e.l.l."

"You think this stuff could turn angels into zombies?" He held one of his M16 rifle tightly to his side as he retrieved the bottle. His mouth twitched with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"You don't believe me? Check the label. Look at who distributes it," I said.

He searched the label quickly, turning it around several times in his large hands. "Mehen Enterprises?"

I nodded, hoping that the information in front of him would prove my point.

An expression of confusion crossed Michael's face. He laced his fingers through the gun strap and tugged on it.

"Father wors.h.i.+ps a snake G.o.ddess called Mehen. He named the s.h.i.+pping and distribution division after her. Invoices I signed for deliveries in h.e.l.l always had 'Mehen Enterprises' on them. The night I was turned, Father thanked this ancient snake G.o.ddess for her blessing. She had blessed the wine that turned me into a vampire."

"That makes absolutely no sense." His laugh was scornful.

I sighed out of frustration and fidgeted with the stock of one of my shotgun. "Dismiss my notion if you want to, but I know I'm right. Father has found a way in."

Michael ran his fingers through his golden hair, tugging some on the last portion before bringing his hand down and slapping it across his thigh. "Ridiculous," he scoffed.

"Okay." I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed my phone, and stood up. "Can we find Blick and go?"

A text chimed on my phone.

Michael must have seen the perplexed look on my face because he immediately asked, "What is it?"

He grabbed the phone. "Who has a number starting with 666?"

"Read the text," I whispered, sinking down to my seat again. I was too stunned to continue standing.

"Hi, sis," Michael said. His brows drew together in concern. "I don't like this."

"She's here. I know it. She's here," I repeated, panicking and clutching his arm. I refused to budge from the bench.

He forced the phone in my hand. "I highly doubt she's in the House of G, but we need to find Blick and get out of here."

Quickly looking around the two of us, he sighed. "Stay here for a minute and calm down. I'll go find him. I think we're done for now." He strolled closer to the center of the ma.s.sive gym, calling Blick's name.

I stuffed my phone in my back pocket, attempting to gather my wits. A low ringing sound like a buzzing began in my ears. I remained still, concentrating on the sound. It was a faint signal Blick had taught me long ago, a whisper, an echo from afar that surfaced in my mind and said, "Run."

Chapter 15.

Goth Rag Dolls "Michael, no!" I raced to meet him on the gymnasium floor. "Get behind me!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

Baring my fangs, I glared at him. "Get behind me now, please!"

"Well, well, well."

Had I not recognized her voice, I wouldn't have known that the creature coming towards us was Stephanie.

"Who's that?! What the...? She looks like Medusa," Michael breathed. I heard him flip the safety on his M16 rifle.

"That's my sister. And I wouldn't tell her that she looks like Medusa, if I were you," I whispered.

"She probably already knows," he replied.

I groaned and braced myself for a very messed up family reunion. "What brings you to these parts, Stephanie? You're looking well," I yelled at her, wondering if my sarcasm would p.i.s.s her off.

She laughed and it reverberated through the gym - a low, nasty guttural sound, a truly demonic sound.

Michael and I stood alert, waiting for her to cross the floor.

"Be ready for anything," I said, unsnapping the fasteners that held the shotguns strapped to my legs. Michael's Medusa comment was dead-on. Instead of hair, Stephanie had snakes twisting and twirling on her head, some arched high above her skull, others hung at eye level. She wore a black leather bra and matching panties with leather boots that climbed all the way to her upper thighs. A boa constrictor wound around her shoulders like a feather boa. It raised its head occasionally to let her pet it on the forehead.

"What happened to her?" Michael asked.

My eyes had widened in surprise. "I have no idea. That is a new look for her."

"I see," Michael muttered, checking to make sure the sword stuffed in a black sheathe on his back was ready to use.

"Miss me, sis?" Stephanie hissed. "It's been a long time."

I decided that if I took an aggressive approach with her, we could find out quicker what she wanted and how the h.e.l.l she had found her way into Blick's training center. I straightened my back and held my head up high. "I think I can speak for everyone when I say you're not welcome here."

Again she laughed. "You're hilarious. You think you own the place now, don't you? t.w.a.t!"

"Twit!"

"Ahhh, someone has developed some colorful language to go with that att.i.tude," she mused.

Opening my mouth wide, I showed her my long fangs.

"Oh yeah?" She threw her head back and revealed her fangs. Her mouth was a cl.u.s.ter of inch wide, razor sharp incisors pus.h.i.+ng out from every part of her gums, top and bottom. Shark teeth. Suddenly a high pitched sound came from her throat and a small black snake peaked its head out. Stephanie moaned as the snake slid over her tongue, out of her mouth, jerking at one point when it realized it couldn't go any further. It remained attached to the back of her throat with its tail, swaying back and forth in front of her face. The snake's head grew in size, close to the width of Michael's broad shoulders. It shrieked at us and bared its fangs. Hanging over its snow-white mouth, its fangs were twelve or thirteen inches at least.

Well there's the big snake head. That's no nightmare. That's real.

Michael took a step back. "What are we dealing with here?" I heard his thought sail across my mind.

"Something straight out of h.e.l.l," I replied telepathically. What if h.e.l.l looked like this? Teaming with snakes everywhere, creatures turned beyond recognition from their former demon selves? A real freak show. I shuttered to visualize it. I hated to admit it, but I despised snakes.

Stephanie composed herself, swallowing the snake after it grew small again and retreated into her mouth. She licked her lips and made a yummy sound.

I felt nauseated and longed for my holy water. It didn't help much that her skin had changed from green to a dingy yellow.

"Enough with the p.i.s.sing contest, sis." She paused for a moment. Then in a silky, friendly voice, she continued, "I'm delighted to see you. Do you like my new look?" Her reptilian eyes glowed for a few moments before returning to their dull mossy green color.

"It suits you," I replied flatly. Without trying to stare, I surmised that instead of her skin being covered with snake-skin patterns, she actually had acquired snake scales all over her body. If she was drinking Father's blood, it had really done a number on her.

Noticing the black commando outfit I wore, which was similar to Blick's and Michael's, she asked, "What look are you going for?"

"Snake killer," I offered.

"You may be the first vampire out of h.e.l.l, but I'm the first Death Serpent. First of many," she lashed back at me.

"How lovely for you," I replied. "Father must be very proud of you."

She paused for a moment, wrestling with her anger. Then she looked at a side door and smiled that s.a.d.i.s.tic smile she got from Father. "He is actually. I've been searching for you, you know. Father has a message for you."

"Whatever it is, I'm not interested."

"Sure you are, sis. Oh, I forgot to mention. You're an aunt! I'd like you to meet two of my children." She whistled in the direction of a set of doors near where we had gathered.

"Michael, don't. It's Blick. She has him." I sent the thought as quickly as I could, hoping he didn't make any sudden moves, and hoping my gut feeling was wrong.

"Say h.e.l.lo to my twins," Stephanie said.

A side door in the gym opened. Two tall, muscular figures entered. They weren't children, but adults with bare chests, wearing only black leather pants and combats boots. Their human skin was puke yellow like Stephanie's, smooth and almost s.h.i.+ny, not scaly. Their bald heads displayed sharp bony spikes protruding from their skulls like Mohawks made of porcupine quills. Both held onto thick silver chains thrown over their shoulders as they dragged something, or someone, into the gym. Instantly, I denied any family a.s.sociation to them.

The voice inside my head said, "If that is your pup, I'll kill her myself."

My sentiments exactly, I thought, as Michael and I waited. I knew by the way Michael was standing at attention with his back rigid, tightly holding his gun that he felt the same way.

"Your mutt was running around lose, so I brought him back to you. He's been a bad boy."

Blick was gagged and shackled. He could barely walk. They had beaten him severely. His face was bruised and swollen, and he had gashes and bite marks all over his face, chest, and arms. He too was bare from the hips up, with no black military jacket or t-s.h.i.+rt. His weapons were missing as well. Only his pants remained on him and the material on his front legs was clinging to him, wet with blood.

"You're speechless, aren't you, you sa.s.sy idiot?" Stephanie gloated.

"Let him go now!" Michael demanded, stepping forward slightly.

"Consider yourself dead," I said, reaching for both of my sawed-off shotguns strapped to my legs. I could hear the bridled anger in my voice. I would rip her apart for what she'd done to Blick.

Noticing my struggle, Michael sent a thought to my mind. "Rayea, don't let your emotions distract you. It'll cloud your judgment!" He resumed his position at my right side, s.h.i.+fting his appearance to a cold, frigid demeanor. I a.s.sumed I could bounce nails off his golden chest if needed.

"You don't like your nephews, do you?" Stephanie asked. "As I said, Father is pleased. I found a real use for the new arrivals. We are thinking of returning some to Earth, if it comes to that."

Dear G.o.d, what did she mean? Was she going to send creatures like that to Earth?!

She repositioned the boa constrictor on her shoulders and giggled as it explored the inside of her cleavage with its tongue.

Ignoring Michael completely, Stephanie pointed at Blick and addressed me. "This is what we do to traitors. Once the poison takes hold, he'll be of no use to you anymore. You should be thanking me."