Authors: Megan Morgan
He blinked a few times, looking back at the screen. “I’m sorry too.” His voice thickened. “And I’m sorry that assholes hurt your brother. And your brother hurt your sister with something he couldn’t understand or control.”
“Accidents—we can’t stop them from happening. But there’s a lot of assholes in the world. We need some brave people to hunt them down and make them pay.” She lay back down, stretching out beside him. She reached under the covers and petted Dipity, her other hand over the picture. “But why the woman thing?” She turned her head toward him. “Why do you always disguise yourself as a woman? Are they women you know?”
The tension broke, and he chuckled. “No. It’s just fun being a woman.”
“Sure it is, because you can change back into a man anytime you want.”
“I like women. They’re my favorite people.”
“Yeah, it’s awesome being a girl. Being catcalled everywhere you go, that’s a big perk.”
“Hey, I get catcalled all the time.”
“And you consider it an honor.” She scratched Dipity’s head. “It’s an annoyance for me. You’d think I’m scary-looking enough dudes would leave me alone. They just see it as a challenge.”
“If anyone catcalls you from now on, especially in my presence, I’ll make them eat their tongue. Literally.”
“My hero.” She pulled her hand from under the covers and rolled toward him. “There’s all these other perks, too, like periods. Whoo! That should be arriving soon, by the way.”
“Mine too.”
She pinched his side. “Jerk.”
He reached down and gripped her wrist. “I don’t know. Disguising myself as a woman is challenging, to get the glamour to stretch over my frame and make it look believable. I like flexing my paranormal muscle, making it stronger. Your abilities get stronger the more you use them.” He eased his grip. “If they’re not getting stronger naturally, that is.”
“I guess you’re lucky. You have to practice.”
“I guess I am.” He smoothed his hand over her hair.
“I remember something Occam told me about his power. How he was able to disguise the van. He said he’s had more than one natural lifetime to learn how to use it. So like, if you lived as long as him, you could probably disguise objects. You could probably do all kinds of things. Like sneak murder victims into someone’s yard.”
He took his hand off her hair. “I’m sure if the old vampires ever allowed themselves to be subjected to study, we would have found out about the growth of our abilities over unnaturally long periods of time. It would have been fascinating.”
“You sound regretful it never happened.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want the Institute studying those things. But someone, perhaps.”
“If the vampires are worried their mystique is ruined now, imagine if people found out about that. I guess they have a point.”
“They have plenty of points. Unfortunately, they use them to draw blood.” Sam stared across the room, hands on the keyboard. “Maybe Occam has gotten so good at it he can make himself invisible. Maybe he can use his power to hide himself. I can imagine the mechanics of it, though I couldn’t do it myself, of course. It would take an obscene amount of energy and intense, nearly inhuman concentration.”
“Imagine if you could do it. You could make yourself invisible and hunt down Robbie.”
“Maybe I should strike a deal with Occam. Get him to help me and give your brother and friend back at the same time.”
She pushed a hand into her shirt and pulled the picture out. “You would need insane leverage to strike a deal like that. The only thing he wants is me. And I know—or at least I hope—you wouldn’t give me up.”
“God, no.” He placed the laptop aside. “But maybe I can come up with something. Money, maybe. That’s how Aaron plies them.”
“I don’t think money is going to buy you Robbie’s head, and also Jason and Diego. You want Occam’s help—or any of the vampires—you’re going to have to appeal, and I mean really, really appeal, to the only thing they care about, and that’s themselves.”
Sam scooted down beside her. “Maybe.”
She held the picture in both hands. Would she give herself up if it meant Sam could have Robbie? Was eternal life such a terrible price to pay to destroy the worst, most dangerous madman ever to run roughshod over the paranormal world and Sam’s sanity?
Did she love Sam that much?
She pressed the picture to her chest and stared at the ceiling.
“I’m good at hatching plots,” Sam said.
She glanced at the doorway. Nothing rustling out there tonight. Had Occam been in the house, spying on her? Was he the one scampering around like a rat? The idea was nauseatingly creepy.
“If you come up with something,” she said, “I’m sure you can just call out to Occam, let him know you want to negotiate. I have a feeling his eyes are all over us, all the time.”
June slept fitfully, her rest full of jarring dreams about finding Jason, Diego, and Sam with their hearts ripped out, scattered through Sam’s yard. In another dream, her own heart had been ripped out, but she was alive, sitting in a chair, blood dripping into her lap. No pain, just emptiness in her chest, coldness in her limbs. Occam sat in a chair across from her, smiling, his fangs glinting.
“You were heartless, anyway,” he mocked her. “No more than I, though.” He opened his jacket to reveal his chest and a ragged, bloody hole in the center of it, oozing gore.
She jerked awake, to sunlight.
Sam had his arm draped over her, his body pressed against her back. Dipity was curled in a ball against her stomach.
The morning quickly went downhill. Her enthusiasm about the vitamins faded as she sat in front of the toilet, her forehead resting on the cool porcelain. Dipity sat at her side. Sam brought her a glass of water.
“I thought this was over.” She didn’t lift her head. “Kind of dumb, huh?”
Sam rubbed her back. “It’s not dumb to hope.”
Once she got the morning vomit over with, she felt better and actually wanted food. She took her vitamins, trying to restore hope, and worked on a bowl of fruit in the kitchen.
She called her mother.
“Anything new with your case?” her mother asked. “Do you know when I’ll be able to come see you?”
June nibbled on a strawberry. “No, not yet.”
“Have you heard from Jason?”
“They’re not giving us a whole lot of opportunity to communicate. But hopefully they’ll be done with him soon.”
“I can’t tell you how much lighter I’ve felt the past couple days, hearing your voice and seeing your face.”
“Me too, Mom.”
“Your friend Sam seems nice.”
Sam had gone to the living room with his own breakfast and turned on the TV. She got the feeling he didn’t like to eat in front of her, like it would be mocking her or something.
“Yeah.” June picked at a grape in her bowl. “He’s a great guy.”
“You seem very close.”
“We went through a lot together.”
“He’s handsome.”
“Mom.”
“I’m just saying. Nice, smart, handsome, and a politician. He has money, doesn’t he?”
She popped the grape into her mouth. “Please,” she said around it. “Me and a politician? That’s crazy.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you’re going to marry a biker and smoke at the altar.”
She rolled her eyes. “For your information, I quit smoking.”
“You did?” Her voice brightened. “That’s wonderful news.”
June would probably never tell her mother she’d been shot. Hopefully, her mother didn’t see the scar.
“It’s kinda hard to smoke in hiding,” June said. “I guess that’s the silver lining.”
“I worry so much about your health.”
Sam appeared in the doorway, his phone clenched in his fist. June frowned. He pointed into the living room urgently.
“Hey, Mom,” June said. “Can I call you back in a bit? I gotta do some things.”
“Yes, I’m not working until this afternoon. I’ll be waiting to hear back from you. I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, Mom. I’ll call you back soon.”
June clicked off, tense. “What is it?”
“You better come see this.”
“It’s not another body, is it?”
“Not here, no.”
She left her bowl of fruit and phone in the kitchen and followed Sam to the living room. On the TV, a woman reporter was talking. She stood in front of a white building. Sam grabbed the remote and turned it up.
“And here at the transfusion clinic,” the woman said, “a grisly scene, as in other places around Chicago this morning. Destruction, as well as brutal multiple murders. Police are urging anyone with information to please come forward. While this latest act of deadly paranormal violence seems to be only targeting vampires, many more could be in danger.”
“What’s going on?” June asked.
“Dead vampires. Everywhere.”
She stared at him.
“I wanted to see if they said anything about what happened here last night. Apparently, it’s happening everywhere.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’ve found dead vampires all over the city—parks, alleyways, in yards, on sidewalks. The transfusion clinics were trashed too.”
June’s blood ran cold. “The cleansing.”
“It would seem so.”
On TV they were showing the inside of the clinic, which had been ransacked. At the bottom of the screen it said, “Seventy-eight Confirmed Dead So Far.”
“Jesus,” June breathed out. “The note—the one someone gave me at the press conference. Occam said he’d be ‘busy the next couple days.’ This must be what he meant.”
“They might kill even more.”
June stared at the TV, her head buzzing.
“They’re no better than Robbie,” Sam said. “Mass murdering for their own agenda. As if this city hasn’t suffered enough blood and destruction.”
“Our blood,” June said. “The normals don’t care if we kill each other. It keeps them from having to do it.”
“I see you’ve been swallowing my dogma quite nicely.”
“You didn’t have to make me swallow it. The world did that.”
He slid an arm around her shoulders. They both watched the TV.
“Vampires have always been separate from the rest of us,” Sam said. “But they don’t deserve this, any more than my people did.”
“Occam said they would get rid of the young and weak. He said they only want strong vampires.” She scratched her nails across her chest and shuddered. “I think they mean to take over this city one day.”
“Occam can’t possibly believe this would charm you to his cause.”
“It’s not just him, I’m sure.”
The reporters navigated through the destruction of the clinic. Blood was splashed on the white walls.
“Too many of them think the same,” June said. “They’ll kill who they want to. No one can stop them.”
“This is why it’s necessary we have this gathering at the beach.” Sam rubbed her shoulder. “We have to show everyone—our people, the normals—that we can still come together in peace, that there’s solidarity in those who won’t stand for violence.”
They watched the news through the morning. Sam made phone calls, asking for information, arranging things.
The death toll climbed. Most of the bodies seemed to have been dumped in public, though a few were found in their homes. All were slaughtered horribly and missing vital organs. No transfusion clinic—she learned there were six in the city—had been left unscathed. Most were merely trashed, but one close to Old Town had been burned down.
The Nocturnal District was on lockdown. No businesses were allowed to open that night, and police were patrolling the streets and questioning people. No bodies had been found there, though. June could guess the vampires were probably sanctifying the area, and only the old powerful ones would be allowed inside it from now on.
Sam’s name came up over and over, some people citing how if he became mayor he could stop things like this from ever happening again. Of course, others felt the opposite, that Sam’s renewed presence and the whole mess with the Institute had been the impetus for this.
The body found in Sam’s yard went unmentioned, thankfully. Either the police didn’t tell the press or it got lost in all the other news.
Her mother would find out from the national news sooner or later, so June called her back and filled her in, not wanting her to panic.
“Oh my God.” She panicked, anyway. “June! You have to get out of that city. Who knows what’s going to happen next?”
“I wish I could. It’s just vampires.”
“It’s probably that horrible man who killed all those people in the park.” Her voice grew shrill and tremulous. “June, he’s going to kill all the paranormal people. I don’t care what the FBI says. You have to get out of there. You have to come home!”
“I can’t leave yet, Mom.”
“You’re going to get killed! I just got you back. If I lose you, I won’t be able to go on.”
June wished she could tell her everything, to ease her fears. The truth wouldn’t do that, though. She’d be ten times more hysterical if she found out June was dying and she’d been offered vampirism, and that her son was currently a prisoner of said vampires. The vampires who were busy killing their own kind right now.
“I’ll be careful, Mom. We’re somewhere safe. Nothing is going to happen to us, I promise.”
The news didn’t get any better as the day wore on. The death toll rose to a hundred, and then a hundred and fifty. Bodies were everywhere. A visit online found plenty of people who were snapping pictures. It was a gruesome, grisly mess.
Cindy and Natalie arrived in the early afternoon, ahead of a group of Sam’s friends. Cindy stood in front of the TV, her hands clasped beneath her chin.
“This is horrifying,” she said. “I mean, vampires aren’t my favorite people, but this is awful. Just like at the park.”
“We knew this was coming.” June kept her voice down. “I don’t think Occam makes idle threats.”
“I hope Jason and Diego are all right. He wouldn’t do anything to them because of this, would he?”
June slipped the picture out of her pocket and held it out to Cindy. “They’re fine.”
Cindy gasped. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes going bright. She took the picture.
“Occam dropped that off last night,” June said. “I think that’s when the cleansing began.”