Authors: Erin Hayes
Edie
Five months later
I don’t like walking down dark alleys, especially at two o'clock in the morning in a city as big as Houston. You either go down one because you're looking for trouble, or you're trouble yourself.
Tonight, I'm trouble.
I shove my gloved hands into the front pocket of my black AC/DC hoodie, idly gripping the classic wooden stakes that I keep in there. They’re there more to keep me company than anything else, to calm my frayed nerves, which I've needed ever since that horrible night my sister was taken from me.
My phone, protected by an Otterbox, is nestled in the back pocket of my shredded black jeans, playing the Ramones through a single earbud in my left ear. Though I know it's bad to hunt keeping only one ear alert, I get nervous when it’s just me and my thoughts.
My well-worn Dr. Martens don't make a sound as I power-walk up and down the alleys of Rice Village, a shopping district adjacent to Rice University and a stone's throw away from MD Anderson Cancer Center.
I know MD Anderson all too well. When my father was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer five years ago, Meghan and I used to make the drive with him from Austin to the Cancer Center to treat the tumor. The damn thing metastasized and he succumbed after an awful four months. Even now, I still get chills just being two miles from the hulking hospital.
Meanwhile, Rice Village has all the hallmarks of a college trap. Cheap pubs and international restaurants line the streets along with a hodgepodge of old and new shops. It looks like it would be a nice area in the daytime, somewhere where you can buy Jimmy Choos and a burrito in the same block.
At nighttime, however, the threat of danger is very real.
It is two a.m. and the bars are just now letting out, meaning that there are drunk college kids who are getting in way over their heads.
I keep my sixth sense active, feeling through the air for any vampires around. My vampy sense, as I call it, does let me down on occasion, so I pay attention to all of my senses. Just in case.
It doesn't fail me tonight.
There
. Two of them, about forty yards from me.
I take off at jog, turning the corner around an Indian restaurant nestled between two bars. The narrow space between the buildings is crowded with dumpsters, initially hiding the vampires from sight.
Then I hear it, the mumbled protestations of a student too drunk on beer and glamour to fight back. There's a light sucking noise that makes me grind my teeth. I squeeze my left hand into a fist to the point where the tendons feel like they're about to snap.
I need to get my emotions under control.
I pull out both of my stakes and hold them in my right hand, take a deep breath, and step out to face them.
"You know, if you guys didn't get greedy, I wouldn't have to find you like this," I announce. Under ordinary circumstances, I would just come up and stake the bastards, but tonight, I want them to talk.
According to my informant, they have information that I desperately need about the vampire who killed my sister.
The man and the woman that I'm addressing snap their heads up at the sound of my voice in the otherwise quiet alley. The victim, a boy around my age, slumps between them, twin bite sized marks on either side of his neck. They were both feeding on him at the same time, like he was a family-style restaurant.
The rage swells within me, and I fight to hold it back.
The vampires appear to be in their late twenties. To common bystanders, they may look like swinging lovers who invited a third wheel for a little fun in between the dumpsters. Until you notice that the whites of their eyes are red with bloodlust and crimson drips from their mouths. Then they bare their long fangs at you and you definitely no longer believe that they’re human.
With bravado, I take out my ear bud and tuck the wires into my back pocket. I shift the stakes between both of my hands, making sure that the vampires see the weapons.
Hopefully, I won’t have to summon my magic sword from the palm of my hand.
"You got greedy, didn't you? Lucky for you, you've got some information I need, so we can talk if you care to. The question is, what are you going to do next?"
The male vampire's eyes go wild and the female backs up like a cornered dog. The student collapses in a boneless heap. I now have his assailants' full attention.
I hope he's okay.
"You're…" the female vampire says, her eyes flitting across me. I know that she sees a young, pale, punk girl standing before her with black and red dyed hair and a grim expression. She recognizes me before she can finish her sentence.
"The Harker?" I supply, using the title that my sister once had that I now carry like a heavy burden. "Good guess. I'm the newly appointed one."
I raise up my stakes. "Now. What do you two know about Anthony?"
They know the name. I can see the fear in their eyes, fear that I've seen before whenever I track vampires that have heard of him. He's like a slippery eel, an underground crime lord of an already-underground sect of society. Most vampires have never heard of him. Those that have would rather die than talk.
Which means that I've yet to find a vampire who actually knows his current whereabouts.
I hope to change that tonight. I
need
to change that tonight.
I’m running out of time. I’m dying.
Unfortunately, instead of answering my simple question, the male vampire lunges at me, swinging his claws in a downward motion in an effort to tear off my face. I spin out of reach with ease, grab his arm, and swing him face-first into the brick wall on my left side. He hits it with a sickening crunch, his nose breaking from the impact.
"This would be so much easier if you would just answer my question."
At the sight of her comrade in a heap, the female vampire screeches, reminding me of a banshee. Lucky for us, it sounds similar to cars peeling out, so I'm not too worried about attracting unwanted attention.
She pulls up the unconscious college student and wraps her hands around his head and shoulders. "Stop, Harker," she hisses. "Stop, or I'll kill the bloodbag."
I sigh tiredly. "You're not going to tell me about Anthony?"
“No. Of course not,” she growls. “He’ll kill me if I say anything.”
“Are you sure?”
"Fuck off, Harker. Or I kill him."
I hate ultimatums. And I hate that she isn't going to tell me.
I choose a third option.
I heft a stake in my right hand, testing the weight. I don't even aim as I throw it towards her. As far as I know, I'm the best at this little technique, throwing with one full spin before it hits my target.
It catches her square in the chest and by surprise. Her eyes widen with the knowledge that her extended life is at an end. She hisses once at me, as if protesting her fate before she falls to the ground.
A quick death. More than she deserves.
Then I notice that the male vampire is gone. In panic, I throw out tendrils of my vampy sense, trying to find his whereabouts.
As if on cue, I get my answer.
Out of nowhere, I'm punched so hard in the face, I bounce off a brick wall. My right shoulder hits it with a loud pop, like a balloon exploding. I cry out at the impact, both in pain and anger that I was so stupid for losing track of one of the vampires. I dislocated my shoulder when I was fourteen, and since then, I know what one feels like. My fingers begin to tingle in an instant and I lose all mobility in the arm. That means that it’s either dislocated or broken.
My assailant doesn't give me time to evaluate my injury or fix my shoulder. His solid mass barrels me with the force of a freight train, toppling both of us to the concrete.
In the split second his weight hits me, I have to make a difficult decision. When I impacted with the wall, I also dropped my stake, meaning that I need to decide if I’m going to summon my sword or try to fight back
, mano a mano
.
I hold up my left hand to catch him as he throws himself at me, knocking me backwards. He lands on top, his teeth snapping inches from my nose a second before his entire body seizes up. From the palm of my hand, a wide, shiny, glittering broadsword blade has emerged, piercing him all the way through his torso. I affectionately call the blade Glimmer, although it’s the legendary sword that all Harkers carry within their bodies and pass on to their successors. It’s a part of me, an extension of myself that I inherited from my sister Meghan when I became the Harker in her place. Even though I don’t have an open wound from it, it hurts me every time I use it.
When he body slammed me, my blade plunged through his heart. Which is fine, because it takes him down for the count.
"You bitch," he wheezes. The light starts to leave his eyes. He snickers. "Anthony's coming for you."
"Tell me where he is!" I yell, pleading with all my soul for him to give me something, anything to get to the murderous vampire.
His body relaxes a bit more, becoming dead weight, which drives Glimmer even further into his chest.
"Coming…for you…" He stills, a long, low breath leaving his lips for the last time.
In disgust, I push him off me with my one good arm and retract my sword into my body, removing any trace that a magical blade had been here. No blood, no gore, only a magical disappearing and reappearing blade. Don’t ask; I don’t fully understand how it works myself.
"Goddammit!" I snarl. I really thought I would get more information this time. With two vampires, I thought I could use one as a lesson to scare the information out of the other.
Instead, I got this.
I don't enjoy killing vampires, despite everything that has happened, and I don't like losing chances at locating my sister's killer and the vampire who infected me with a deadly disease.
"RARGH!"
I want to punch walls and burn down buildings. At this rate, I'll never find anything out about Anthony, and time is ticking down so quickly for me.
Now I have two bodies and a barely-alive victim to take care of. Not exactly what I call a successful night.
Good job, Edie. Good job.
I may be the Harker, but I’m definitely not the best at it.
Edie
Before I do anything, I have to pop my shoulder back into place. I scramble to my feet and trudge over to the wall. It hurt like hell being dislocated, and I know it's going to hurt worse going back in.
I steel myself, and jam it back into the brick wall, hearing the answering pop when it snaps back into place. I cry out in pain, slumping against the wall while bile threatens to come up through my throat.
I wallow in agony for a few moments, drawing my knees up to my chest, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. This really isn’t anything pain-wise, but I want to allow myself this. It makes me feel human. It reminds me I’m still alive. For now.
Get up, Edie.
I clench and unclench my fingers, giving my arm a slight shake to make sure that everything is in working order. It feels like shit, but there's nothing I can do about it now. A bunch of Aleve, and I should feel better in the morning when my supernatural healing abilities kick in. One of the few perks of being the Harker.
I roll my shoulder and suck in deep breaths. At least it's somewhat working now, which is good, because I have to take care of business.
I kneel beside the college student and check his pulse. It’s there, but it’s faint. Although he’s probably going to need a blood transfusion and an extended stay at the hospital, he’ll live.
"Are you still alive in there?" I ask.
He whimpers incoherently.
I sigh in relief. I guess this means that tonight isn't a total bust.
I dig in his pocket for his cell phone and pull it out. His lock screen shows a picture of him with a healthy glow, his arm draped around a beautiful girl on a boat. They look like they’re on vacation in Cancun for Spring Break. I’ve been to Cancun once before when I was twelve, only it was to tag along with my mother while she took care of an ancient Mayan vampire. We certainly weren’t on a cruise, and I certainly wasn’t with some hot dude.
I look at it before I thumb the screen off. We’ve led vastly different lives. I should be happy that he’ll still continue to live a happy, healthy life.
And me? Well, my love life is in shambles and I probably won’t go on a vacation for pleasure ever again.
“You’re a lucky fellow, aren’t you? Stay out of dark alleys next time.”
He won’t remember my advice, but I give it anyways.
I prop him up against the wall to help him breathe and to keep his wound above his heart. I already see that it’s healing nicely from the clotting agent in vampire saliva, it’s more or less the lack of blood that is keeping him knocked out. I set the phone in his lap. Once I’m done taking care of the bodies, I’ll call an ambulance for him.
As much as I want to help more, I can’t. Though some police departments know about the existence of vampires and vampire hunters, I don't want to press my luck. If it gets out that there are real bloodsuckers in the world, the media would go crazy with all the vampire-like killings.
“And now to take care of you two fuckers…” I say, turning to the vampire bodies.
Unlike what you see on TV, they don't disintegrate into ash when they're staked. That would make things way too damn easy.
Thankfully, in addition to possessing a magical sword within my body, my pyrokinetic powers have gotten stronger since I became the Harker. I can make a miniature funeral pyre for them and burn away their existence. I'm no Jedi Master or anything—my fights with vampires would be a whole lot easier if I
could
use the Force—but it helps to create a controlled blaze without any sign of arson.
I haul the bodies to a dumpster with the intent of keeping the fire within the oversized trash bin. They'll burn quickly, and I don't want to draw any more attention.
I dump the first one into the dumpster, not noticing the temperature drop or that my breath is coming out in little puffs of white clouds. It's already chilly, and my work has gotten me a little overheated.
"
Edie.
"
I whip my head up at the sound of my name. Then I nearly drop the male vampire.
The silhouette of a woman floats before me, her ethereal body translucent in the night. Her brunette hair floats around her like she's submerged underwater. Yet it's her eyes that are the most familiar to me, freezing me to my spot. They’re mirrors of my own eyes.
"Meghan?" I choke in disbelief.
It's the first time that I've ever seen a ghost, let alone seen a dear family member. The tide of emotions threatens to takeover me, and I have to bite back sobs of despair.
I know some people who claim to see ghosts. Some are either lying or crazy. Some believe that they’re telling the truth. Few really are.
An enigmatic smile touches Meghan's haunted pale lips and she holds out a gentle hand to me.
"
Hey, sis
."
So many things I want to tell her, so many apologies that freeze on the tip of my tongue, and nothing solid comes to mind. Tears well in the corners of my eyes as I struggle to maintain my composure.
Meghan turns her back on me and floats down the alley away from the dumpsters. I follow after her, and when I get to the main road, she is nowhere to be found.
"Meghan?" I call out into the darkness. I know it's futile.
I let out a frustrated groan at her sudden departure.
Why did she show up now, only to disappear? It makes no sense.
Tears spill out onto my cheeks and I brush them away with my hoodie sleeve.
"Damn it."
I make my way back to the dumpsters. Frost, formed when Meghan appeared, is now melting from the metal trash bins and the bricks of the buildings surrounding me. A chill permeates all the way down to my bones, although I'm not sure if it's because of a supernatural occurrence of if it's because I blew my chance to apologize to Meghan.
"
So
stupid!"
There’s nothing I can do about it now, although there's so much that I wish I’d done differently. I let out a shuddering breath, still fighting back tears.
I've got to get going, otherwise I'm going to be here all night and never get back home to Austin and real life before the sun comes up. I will have to think on this later. If I do that now, I'll never move from my spot.
I stuff the last dead vampire into the bin, leave the lid up, and mutter the incantation to set the bodies on fire. They combust in a small explosion, throwing off a bit of heat for me to finally shake off the remainder of the chill.
I take this moment to pull out my pack of cigarettes from my other back pocket and light one up. It's a fitting farewell, I think.
"If you had just told me where Anthony is," I lecture their bonfire while exhaling a wisp of smoke, "we could have gotten along so much better."
They were still attacking humans though, so the outcome would have been the same in the end. I have to take solace in that. Tonight didn’t go
completely
wrong; it's just a bust for me.
Contrary to popular belief, vampire hunters don't kill every vampire we come across. The majority behave themselves and only drink from willing hosts or buy blood from blood banks. It isn't until they start killing people that I have to take action. I know from reading the news and my sources that these two vampires have been preying on as many as three humans a night for the past week. A blood binge, if you want to call it that. After being good little vampires for years, it seems like they'd finally snapped. The newspaper dubbed them serial murders. My network of hunters recognized exactly what it was.
My vampy sense tingles again, alerting me to the presence of a familiar vampire behind me. I groan on the inside and flick my cigarette into the fire.
“Really?” I ask, half playfully, half in a bad mood.
I’m still wired from my fight with the other vampires and seeing Meghan, so I can use the excuse to pummel him a few times.
I spin on him, throwing punches in a halfhearted warning. My right shoulder aches with the movement.
As usual, whenever I do this, he matches each of my movements with the same intensity.
We spar for a bit, Harker against vampire, before he pins me against the wall, pressing his strong body against mine.
"You're chipper tonight, Harker," he tells me, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips. He raises an amused, pierced eyebrow.
I roll my eyes at him and push him off me, trying to hide the blush from my cheeks. He was so close to me, I feel a bit too intimate with him at the moment. I turn my attention back to the mini-bonfire. Yes, he's a vampire, but I've known him for five months now and I know he won't hurt me.
"Pissed off doesn't look good on you," he tells me.
"I'm always kind of pissed off these days, Jude."
"What, my lead wasn't good?" he asks.
"That's what remains of them. In there." I nod to the dumpster, then I gesture to the college student still passed out against the wall. "They were having hemoglobin a la carte. And, no, I didn't get any information from either of them. They would rather die or do something stupid before they would ever want to help me."
Jude curses under his breath. "Next time, Harker. You'll get something next time."
I let out a shuddering breath. "You've been saying that for the past five months, Jude. It's not going to fucking happen. Anthony is like Bigfoot, except he hides better. I won't ever get to him in time."
Because I'm dying and my expiration date is coming up.
"You'll figure something out, Harker."
"Not soon enough."
Jude grabs my shoulder and I look back at him in surprise. "Yes. You. Will," he says, punctuating each word. His blue-eyed gaze keeps me rooted to my spot, even though I try to shrug off his empty promises.
It's hard though. Jude isn’t someone you can "shrug off," no matter how hard you try. I'm not one to go for bloodsuckers, but Jude is possibly the best specimen of vampire or human to ever walk the Earth. When they warn girls about bad boys, they have someone like Jude in mind.
At a little over six feet tall, he is slender with enough muscle to show that he's not a pussy in battle. Dark, curly hair falls onto his forehead and over his ears, a bit longer than what's in style, but it works for him. His unnaturally icy blue eyes are what you notice next, along with his unshaven strong jaw. A white scar runs up from his left eyebrow and disappears into his hairline.
Vampires only scar when something horrible has happened. The fact that Jude has a scar like that hints at something in his past that made him lose his memory fifty years ago. Yes, he has amnesia, which is a first for me. I’ve never known a vampire who didn’t love to talk about the good old times. I can tell that not having a past bothers him, but he won't talk about it. I guess we're both alike in that we don't discuss our inner demons.
He has silver piercings in his face: one in his right eyebrow, which is furrowed right now; both earlobes are gauged; and he has a piercing in his bottom lip. Vampires are allergic to silver, so the skin around each piercing is red and puckered, like it's been freshly pierced. I don't know why he leaves them in if they hurt, but I suspect it has to do with him
wanting
to feel the pain.
And the tattoos… I stare at them sometimes. His arms are covered in black tattoos that look like chains. Be still my beating punk heart.
I met him at Meghan's funeral. It was a rainy, overcast day and he was bundled in layers of clothing to protect him from any sunlight that might pierce the clouds. Only after scratching the surface did I learn more about him and his enigmatic ways. He has always come through for me with some leads and information regarding who Anthony is and the game he’s trying to play. He pokes around in the vampire underworld in places I can't go. No one thinks much of a vampire without a past, but they zip right up if the Harker asks the same question. We haven't been able to glean much from his sources; however, each one has been painting a vague picture.
Also, he seems to have a cat-bell on me. It doesn't matter if I'm hunting in Dallas, Houston, or, like last week, San Francisco, he always shows up. I know he probably thinks from
Twilight
that girls love stalker vampires, but it does get on my nerves, especially knowing that he follows me so closely.
The trashcan fire is running on empty now. Nearly time for me to head back home to Austin and my soft, warm bed that's waiting for me.
"Why are you still here, Jude?" I ask, too tired to be polite.
He chuckles. "I'm just making sure that you're all right." His voice is like liquid silk, and I bristle, brushing it off.
He's trying to glamour me. My number one taboo.
“Fuck you, Jude.”
I refuse to be glamoured. It's a violation of my free will.
I pull back the pyrokinetic power within the dumpster, like I’m inhaling the flame of a candle. The fire zaps out, leaving a pile of ash that isn't identifiable as anything remotely humanoid. I pick up the college student’s phone and dial 911.
“Nine one one, what’s your—”
“Times Boulevard and Kirby Drive,” I tell them in a low voice. Then I hang up and toss the phone in his lap.