Secret Worlds (445 page)

The vampire growled, showing the razor sharp fangs that filled his mouth, and rushed Charlie. Judging by Charlie’s wide-eyed expression, he was faster than Charlie expected. The vampire slammed into Charlie, sending his body flying into a wall behind him, which buckled under the pressure.

I jumped to my feet and thought of the moves Charlie had taught me. I punched my fist hard into the vampire’s throat, causing him to stumble to the ground gasping for air, a habit he had no need for. I moved to help Charlie, but already the vampire was back on his feet and coming for me again. He swung his fist quick and hard, easily connecting it with my face. I fell backwards directly into the arms of the other vampire who I’d hit with the paperweight. He wrapped his arms around me.

“You’re going to pay for that one, beautiful,” he said in my ear.

Charlie struggled to get up.

“Eve,” he mumbled. The other vampire kicked him hard in the face, and Charlie fell over unconscious.

I grabbed the arm of the longhaired vampire holding me and bent over quickly, flipping him to the floor. I needed powerful magic and fast. I thought of the children at the Academy, of Charlie, and of Lucien. This filled me with a burning power hotter than I thought I could stand. In one fluid motion of my finger, I sent both vampires flying through the air. Their bodies smashed high against the wall where they remained frozen, arms outstretched. My head burst into a million colors of pain, but I maintained their position.

“Say cheese,” the longhaired vampire said.

I looked up just as a bright flash filled the room. Over by the window, the dark outline of a man or vampire—I couldn’t be sure from this far away—had taken my picture. Before I could react, he jumped through the window, breaking the glass as he went. Both vampires laughed.

I responded by raising all the pencils from the desks. They came together and rushed at the two vampires, but I stopped them inches before their hearts. They weren’t laughing any more.

“Settle down there, missy. We were just having some fun,” Longhair said.

“Right. Harmless fun,” the other said. “So let us down, and we’ll get out of here.”

“Who sent you?” I asked.

Silence.

“I will ask one more time. Who sent you?”

They glanced at each other but remained silent. I didn’t hesitate. Mentally, I shoved one of the floating groups of pencils directly into the heart of the longhaired vampire. His body wilted and caved within itself until there was nothing left but dust.

I fell to my knees, the pressure in my head reaching a whole new level, but I still managed to maintain my grip on the last vampire. Through my clenched teeth, I said, “Tell me who sent you or you’ll end up just like your friend.”

“The Dark Prince,” he said, his bottom lip quivering like a puppy.

“The Dark Prince? I need a real name.” I let the pencils hover closer.

“I don’t know! Really, I don’t!”

“Why was my picture taken?” I asked, pressing my hand to my aching head.

“For the Dark Prince. He told us to keep our eyes out for a powerful witch.”

The pain in my head spread to my body, and I wondered how much more I could take. The vampire slipped a few inches.

“Having some difficulties?” he asked, his voice dropping a tone.

I dropped to one knee, and that’s when I felt it—a hand gently touching my shoulder.

“It is enough,” a kind voice said, though I couldn’t be sure if I’d heard the words or if they had been placed inside my head.

My gaze turned upward. I stared into the face of another vampire but knew there was nothing to fear. His commanding presence personified one who abhorred darkness and cherished truth and light. I felt his power, greater than anything I’d ever encountered, but it didn’t frighten me. I found comfort in it.

Henry, the founder of the Deific.

He nodded and smiled as if he’d read my mind. Maybe he had.

I let go of my mental grip on the vampire, but Henry, his arm out stretched, kept the vampire pressed against the wall. A second later, the pencils shot forward, piercing his heart.

I stared at him, my mouth open. He could use magic. The only other vampire I knew who could do that was Boaz, but he had to steal it from me to do so. It wasn’t this way with Henry, though. So how was he able to do it? I shook the thought from my head. I had to help the others first.

I ignored my aching body and moved to attend to Charlie, but Henry stopped me.

“He’s fine and will wake soon,” Henry said.

“What about the others?”

“They made it safely outside. The police will be here any minute, and I don’t want you answering any questions in your condition.” Henry walked to the back of the office. He didn’t have to ask me to follow—I did so instinctively.

Inside the office’s break room, he opened a cupboard and reached to the very top. He must have pressed a button, because all of a sudden the cupboards swung open, revealing a room the size of a closet. Once inside, I realized it was an elevator. Henry pushed the button going “up”.

I glanced sideways at him. He was staring at the doors with a blank expression, and yet I felt as if the whole space was brimming with all kinds of emotions. Henry had wavy light brown hair, and his golden eyes matched the color of his tanned skin. He was dressed surprisingly well in a dark suit and a floor length overcoat. His full lips parted when he said, “We’re here.”

The doors opened into a library and what I thought was the top floor. Henry walked over to a hutch and withdrew a blanket and pillow. He carried them to a leather sofa in the middle of the room. “You’ll have to stay here for tonight and probably part of tomorrow. The police will be busy for a while.”

I immediately sat down, the pain in my head making it difficult to stand. “How did you know to come?”

“Just a feeling. I would’ve come sooner, but our other offices were hit with much heavier casualties. I helped them first because I knew you were here.”

“But we’ve never met,” I said.

“Not officially.”

“The Dark Prince,” I said suddenly. “The vampires called whoever was in charge of this attack ‘The Dark Prince’.”

“I know. I questioned one of them in our London office.”

“How long ago was that?”

He looked down at his silver watch. “Twenty minutes.”

He was using magic to travel, much like I thought Boaz had.

“Oh, and the one who got away took my picture,” I added.

For the first time, the calm in his demeanor cracked, and he frowned. “Were you able to find out why?”

I shook my head.

“That is disturbing. I’ll get someone to look into it as soon as possible. How are you feeling?’

“My head hurts.”

“It’s like that in the beginning.”

“I never felt that when I used magic before. It was the opposite. If I didn’t let the evil out—” I stopped, embarrassed. I didn’t know how much he knew about me.

“Withholding evil’s power can be very painful,” he said as if he understood.

“But why do I have pain? The magic I’m using is good.”

“Because the good is you—a part of you anyway. When you let it go, your body responds physically. Whereas when one is evil, the evil only wants to escape and spread like a virus.” He narrowed his eyes in concern. “You need to get some rest.”

“Wait! I want to ask you something.” I wasn’t sure how long it would be until I would have the chance to speak with him again.

“Then ask.”

“I don’t understand how—”

“A vampire can be good? Use magic?”

“Both.”

“I can use magic because I was like you before I was turned. A witch. And I am good because I choose to be, Eve. There are certain eternal truths about our universe that can never be altered. Free agency is one of these. Every living creature has the ability to choose good or evil, life or death.”

“Then why are vampires evil? Most of them,” I corrected.

“It’s the power, the blood lust. It’s very difficult to overcome. Once a vampire crosses a certain line, like taking a life without provocation, it’s almost impossible for them to rid themselves of the evil.”

“How many good vampires are there?”

“Only a handful. Very few choose to live our way.”

“What of Lucien? Do you know him?”

Henry looked past me. “I’ve watched Lucien for a long time, hoping. But he seems to be stuck.”

“What happened to him?”

“He changed history.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze returned to mine. “It is not my tale to tell.”

“Then do you know why I’m drawn to him?”

“It’s the ancient power within you both.”

“I’ve felt it before with someone else, but it was an evil feeling.”

“Boaz,” he said, surprising me. “All of your lives are connected, including Lucien’s to Boaz’s and even to mine.”

“How is that possible?”

Henry’s jaw tightened. “There is a long history between all of our families. I wish I could say more, but there’s too many unknowns right now. One day I will tell you everything.”

This revelation surprised me, and I leaned back into the cushions.

“I find it interesting that the good in you is drawn to Lucien,” he said. “It gives me hope.”

“Why?”

“If the good in you is drawn to him, then that means there is still good in him, too. The problem is he doesn’t know it.”

“How can I make him see it?”

“I don’t know if you can.” He stopped and tilted his head slightly as if listening to something far away. “I need to go. You’ve come a long way. I’m proud of you.” He pointed to a refrigerator behind me. “There’s food in there if you need it.”

I glanced at it briefly, but when I turned back, Henry was gone.

It was a long night. What Henry had said about all our lives being connected had kept me awake, so I rose early to search the many books on the shelves, trying to bide the time before I could go downstairs. Most of them were history books, all dedicated to the dark creatures of the world.

I turned down the third aisle of bookshelves and scanned the titles. I stopped when I recognized a symbol that had been burned onto the outer spine of a brown book. It was a picture of the same fighting lions at my grandfather’s house. I removed it from the shelf.

It was a faded leather book, loosely bound; several of the pages were no longer connected. Carved on the front was the Whitmore family crest. Unfortunately, most of the words inside had faded, but from what I could decipher, the book had been a Whitmore journal handed down for generations. The Segurs were mentioned many times, and the passages I could read were always negative. It was true what Boaz had told me: the Whitmores had hated the Segurs.

Only two other names were mentioned: the Bradys and the Archers. None of these names were familiar, and since I was unable to read the full text, I couldn’t determine their connection to my family.

Boaz’s name was mentioned just once. In dark ink, on the last page of the book, a heading read “In Service to Boaz”. Beneath this, several names followed, most of which had been crossed out. The final entry was on January 12, 1889. This must’ve been the time when the Deific came in possession of the book. I closed it and placed it back on the shelf.

By five o’clock the next day, I could wait no longer. I returned to the elevator and, after listening carefully through the wall, slipped into the empty break room. I stuck my head into the office and looked around.

Desks had been pushed back into their rightful positions and the cubicle walls stood upright, only a few missing. The smell of roses was stronger than usual, but not strong enough to cover the smell of smoke from the explosion. A cold breeze swept through the office stirring up several loose papers. The wall the vampires had blasted through must be covered poorly, if at all.

Only a handful of people were working. No doubt Charlie had offered everyone the day off. Those who were working were somber and lifeless. One man, I remembered his name as John, leaned against the wall, staring at nothing as if he was sleeping with his eyes open.

I moved into the room and made my way through the maze of cubicles to Sarah’s desk. She was organizing a file cabinet with her back to me. Every now and then, she would reach up and wipe a tear away with a tissue.

“Sarah?” I asked.

She jumped, turned around, and gasped. Her arms flew around me, nearly knocking me over. “You’re here! We thought they took you!”

I shook my head and released her. “I’m fine. How is everyone else?”

Sarah didn’t get a chance to answer. Charlie appeared before me with a bandage above his eye and a dark bruise on his forehead that spread into his hairline. By his expression, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or happy. His face twisted into so many emotions in such a short amount of time that I couldn’t help but give him a weak smile. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into his office.

“Where have you been?” he asked as soon as the door closed.

“I’ve been hiding upstairs in some library.”

He paused, thinking. “How did you know of that place? The last thing I remember is one of those men holding you. Better question, how did you get away?”

I smiled. “Magic. It just came to me, and you and Dr. Skinner were right. It didn’t frighten me, didn’t change me. Other than leaving me with a pretty good headache, it was amazing.”

Charlie dropped into his chair, a great sigh leaving his chest. “Thank goodness. I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry. Henry showed up and thought it best if I avoided the police. He took me to the private library through the break room. Cool hideout, by the way. So does anyone have any theories on why those men attacked us?”

Charlie rubbed his temples. “Not a clue. All the Deific offices were broken into, but only one item was taken, and it just happened to be from our office.”

“What was it?”

“The briefcase you gave back to me yesterday.”

“What would they want with that?” I asked and began to pace back and forth. It didn’t really give them any relevant information they should care about. Almost everyone in the database shared their same interests and desires.