Vampire Girl (4 page)

She smiles. "Don't you worry a thing about it. How's about I make us all some hot coffee and we can sit down and figure this out together."

Es heads to my small kitchen, and I sink into the couch in the living room. Suddenly my whole body aches, and I feel the hours of sleepless exhaustion take its toll on me, but I'm too wired to actually sleep. The apartment is too still. Too quiet. Even the annoying hum of the refrigerator is missing, and I idly wonder if it stopped working as well. There are small signs of my mother everywhere. Her boots by the front door, one lying on its side. Her jacket draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Her favorite magazines spread out on the table in front of the couch.

Pete sits in the love seat across from me, and Es brings us coffees and sits next to him.

Now that we are all settled, I lean in to Pete. "Okay, spill it."

Pete pulls out his phone to look at the picture I sent. "Whose wrist is this?"

"My mom's."

He frowns. "How long has she had a mark like this?"

"It's new," I say. "I've never seen it until today."

"So it wasn't there before she fell into this coma?" he asks.

"No."

"This is bad, Ari. Very bad."

I blow on my coffee and sip it, trying to control my impatience. "Enough with the scary omens. Just tell me."

He opens up a browser on his phone and shows me image after image of the mark on my mom's wrist.

"This is the Mark of Cain. You know the story of Cain and Abel? From the Bible?"

I nod, recalling old Bible stories from my childhood. An old neighbor of ours used to babysit me when I was little and my mom was working. She'd drag me to church with her, and was devoted to the idea that my soul needed saving. It didn't stick, but I remember some of it. "They were both told by God to make sacrifices to him, or something. Abel's was accepted by God but Cain's was rejected. He and Abel fought and Cain killed his brother and was marked for it."

"That's the gist. But some believe there's more to the story. Some believe that mark did more than just serve as a sign to others that he deserved death. Some believe that mark turned him."

"Turned him into what?" I ask.

"Into a demon. One who feeds on the pain of others. That he was condemned to spend eternity torturing others or he would feel that torture himself, day in and day out for all time."

I shake my head. "This is why religion does not make sense to me. What kind of God asks for blood sacrifices, then punishes people who don't do it?"

"A vengeful God," Pete says.

"So what does this have to do with my mother?" I shudder, feeling an evil premonition descend upon me.

"If she bears the Mark of Cain, then she is his." Pete whispers this so quietly it takes my mind a moment to make sense of his words.

"You think my mom is being held prisoner by Cain—a demon?"

He doesn't answer, but I can see on his face that's exactly what he believes. I look to Es for help. Surely she can't believe this nonsense? But she averts her eyes, her shoulders slumped, her hand resting on Pete's knee. She believes him.

"Have you both lost your mind? These stories aren't real. It's all just a bunch of morality tales meant to scare kids—and adults—into behaving in the way whoever was in charge wanted them to."

Pete shakes his head. "I know you're a skeptic, and I've never tried to push my beliefs on you, but Ari... you have to open your eyes. There are things in this world that defy logic."

I want to argue, to tell him there's a very logical and rational explanation for what happened to my mother, to tell him I will find a way to save her with science. But I can't. My mind returns to the man at The Roxy. The man with the same kind of mark but in a different design. The man with the strange eyes and the accent I couldn't place. The man who knew my name, my full name, when no one at work calls me Arianna only Ari.

"I have to go!" I say, jumping up. "I need to see my mom again."

Pete drives me to the hospital, and in the urgency to see my mother again, I tolerate being in the car with less terror than normal. Yay for me. When we arrive, Pete tries to park, but I tell him and Es to go home and rest. "I need some time to process things, and you both need sleep. I'll call you later, okay?"

They relent and drive off, leaving me in drifts of newly fallen snow at the front door of the hospital. The sun has already set, marking the end of a day that has seemed an eternity. I run in and find my mother's room. She's still lying there, just as she was. I turn her wrist over and stare at the mark. Is this really the Mark of Cain? Could the story be true?

I pull out the strange man's business card and dial the number on it.

"I was expecting your call, though I admit, I thought it would arrive earlier," he says before I've even have a chance to speak.

"Who are you? What have you done to my mother?"

"I've done nothing to your mother. But without me, she will be lost for good. Without me, her soul will suffer for all eternity." His voice echoes around me, and I look up to see him standing at the door of my mother's room, holding his phone to his ear.

When he sees me notice him, he smiles and puts his phone away. "Hello Arianna Spero. It's time at last we talked. Tell me, do you want to save your mother?"

––––––––

"Let's put the blame where it belongs, shall we?"

—Arianna Spero

M
y phone goes
dead, so I stick it back into my pocket and stare at the man in front of me. He's dressed as impeccably today as he was yesterday—a tailored Italian suit, this time in grey and silver, with a leather briefcase hanging at his side. Was it just yesterday that he came in to The Roxy? It seems so long ago now.

But this time I'm not daunted by his perfection, by his beauty, by the sheer
otherness
of him. This time I'm just pissed. I march over to him and slap his face. Hard.

He rubs his jaw, though I have the distinct impression that my palm hurts a lot more than his cheek.

I shake out the pain in my hand as discreetly as I can. "Tell me what's going on before I have you arrested."

His eyes widen in surprise, but he looks more amused than angry. "You really aren't what I expected."

I glare at him, my fists on my hips. "Why were you expecting anything at all? Who are you?" My jaw hurts from gritting my teeth.

"You can call me Asher, and I'm the only one who can save your mother. With your help."

I glance at her still form lying in the hospital bed. "What's wrong with her?"

"Your friend was right, mostly. She bears the Mark of Cain and is in a hell dimension for all eternity." He speaks glibly, as if this is all just a joke to him.

I step back and frown. "Right. Of course. That makes perfect sense. Mark of Cain. Hell dimension. Demons. What happens next?" I hold up a hand before he can speak. "No wait, let me guess. You tell me I'm some kind of chosen one and in exchange for my soul or some such nonsense you will save my mom. There's probably a prophecy involved, and some danger, and you think your sexy charms will overcome all that and sway me to your way of thinking, yes? Sorry, dude. I've seen that movie."

He tries to speak, but his mouth just kind of hangs open, no sound coming out. He has a look of confusion on his face, but he recovers quickly, snapping his mouth closed and staring at me, his eyes unreadable. "What are you?"

"What am I? Are you seriously asking me that? After everything you just tried to sell me?"

His eyes dart around the room and land on my mother. "You have an uncanny way of seeing to the truth of things," he says. He returns his gaze to me. "Be that as it may, you aren't entirely wrong. Your mother's soul is trapped. You are her only hope. And... " he steps closer to me and grins... "I'm glad you at least think I'm sexy."

Now it's my turn to stare gape-mouthed. "I never... "

He winks at me. "You did. You accused me of having 'sexy charms.' Close enough. So, now that we are on the same page, let us get to the crux of this shall we?"

I cross my arms over my chest. "What is the crux of this? What do you want from me?"

"Your soul, of course."

I roll my eyes. "You evil guys should come up with better lines."

He pulls a scroll out of a briefcase and hands it to me. "This is what I want from you, in exchange for your mother's soul."

I unroll the beige, ancient-looking parchment. It's so old I fear it will disintegrate in my hands, the paper crinkled and webbed. It even smells old, like ink and ancient castles from books.  I begin to read. It takes me a while, the font is some kind of calligraphy that doesn't exactly encourage skimming. He could stand to learn about font choices and their impact on reading.

When I'm done, I roll it up and shove it back at him. "Am I being tricked?"

He looks down at the scroll in his hand in confusion. "What?"

"Tricked? Or something? Is there some new reality show I'm the star of? I can't imagine my mom would be a part of this, but maybe for enough money she would. Is this a joke? Some plot to make a fool of me or try to sway me to believe in God and demons and the supernatural?" I don't believe my own words. I've seen my mom, and she's well and truly missing from her body, but none of this makes sense. I feel trapped in some surreal alternate reality where nothing is right. Everything is wrong. This is wrong.

"I do not know what you mean by 'reality show' but I can assure you I would never associate myself with such a crass sounding thing. This is deadly real."

My bravado is fading, because he doesn't look like the kind of man who plays pranks, and my mom doesn't look like she's faking a coma, and this hospital is entirely too real. I point to the paper in his hand. "That says my mom made a deal with a devil, that she traded her soul, and now the only way I can free her is to give you... me."

The man nods. "My brothers and I... we are in a bit of a predicament, and you are our only hope." He smiles as if he knows what that word means to me.

"And who are you and your brothers?" I look around for the cameras, for some evidence I'm being pranked. Maybe this guy escaped from the psych ward. That would explain a lot.

"Have you not figured it out yet?" His eyes change colors, becoming brighter. "We are the Princes of Hell. And you will be a Princess to one of us, and ultimately, Queen."

"Of hell," I say.

He nods. "Of hell. Though we have our own names for our world. Hell is a very mundane and human term that does not mean what you think it means."

"You're a demon."

He bows regally. "At your service."

"And this contract I would have to sign. It would be for eternity?"

"Yes."

"And I would have to choose one of you to marry?"

"Yes."

I look down at the scroll still in my hand. "And give that prince an heir."

"Correct."

"What happens after I die? In, say, seventy years?"

He chuckles. "Do you not understand? You will never die. By agreeing to this, you agree to take the Blood Oath. You will become one of us."

"One of you? You mean a demon. I would have to become a demon."

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

My stomach quivers with raw nerves at his answers. "And my child? This heir I'm promising... what if I can't get pregnant? Does that negate the contract?"

He steps forward and raises his hand to my cheek, brushing aside a strand of hair. "There will be ample opportunity to work on that. Worry not."

My hands are shaking. My throat is dry. The world no longer makes any sense. This is no longer funny. I place my hands on his chest... and push. "Get. Out."

It's like pushing a boulder. He only moves because he chooses to. I'm under no illusions about that.

"It's an interesting kind of irony that you of all people do not believe in demons." He looks darkly amused, his lips curling into a mocking smile.

When he moves again, it is with such speed I don't even register his movement until he is pressed up against me, my back now slammed against the wall. "But if you want to save your mother, I suggest you surrender your disbelief and embrace the truth. There are monsters in the world, Arianna. They are real." His eyes glow again, this time bright silver, and he smiles. "
I
am real."

I swallow, but my throat is too dry. I can't breathe.

His eyes bore into me, then drop to the throbbing vein on my neck. His eye teeth elongate until he has... fangs. His hand wraps around my neck and he lowers his mouth to my throat, his teeth brushing against my skin.

I'm shaking so hard, my breathing coming in rapid gulps. I close my eyes, waiting for... something. Death. Him to eat me. This no longer feels like a prank, but my mind can't wrap itself around the reality.

"Your mother will suffer for all eternity if you do not accept this deal," he whispers against my neck. "And I suggest you do not take too long to decide. I smell death on her. Even with those machines, she will not survive the week."

A sob builds in my throat, and I open my eyes, ready to scream, to gouge his eyes out, to do something to protect myself. But the pressure on my throat disappears and when my vision clears, I am alone in the hospital room with my mother. The stranger is gone.

But the scroll is sitting on the table by the hospital bed. Next to it is a manila folder with a note in his scrawl.
When you are ready to see reason, read this file. It will answer questions of your past. It will show you this is no trick.

I sink to the floor, shaking, fighting tears, trying to clear my mind so I can think straight. This can't be real. These kinds of things don't exist.

Demons.

Vampires.

They don't exist.

I wipe my eyes and stand, then take a deep breath. Time to get some answers. I run out of the room and down the hall, to the admittance desk. "There was a man in my mother's room. Tall, tailored suit, dark hair, light eyes. Why was he allowed back here?"

The nurse looks at me in confusion. "No one has been back there but you and the hospital staff."