By
Peter Dawes
SMASHWORDS EDITION
***
a Crimson Melodies eBook
PUBLISHED BY:
Crimson Melodies on Smashwords
COVER ART BY:
Crimson Melodies
Cover Art Resources:
2011 Philadelphia Skyline - Flickr
(http://www.flickr.com/photos/12726182@N00/4916653350/)
Pumpkins / Jack O’ Lanterns - Stock Exchange
(http://www.sxc.hu/photo/536210)
Moon with Tree Branches - Stock Exchange
(http://www.sxc.hu/photo/627739)
Hunting on Halloween
Copyright © 2011 by Crimson Melodies
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author. You are welcome to share it with friends and distribute it for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to the author’s page to discover more great works. Thank you for your support.
Hunting on Halloween
The reasons why I enjoy this time of year could be counted on both hands, with sentiments both inspiring and bittersweet behind each tale. I have lived as both prince and pauper through a litany of autumns, with an eternity of them waiting to add another pen stroke to an already full existence. It is that eternal promise which brings forth my darker desires as September turns into October, though. That is when demons such as I come out to play.
Seducing prey becomes far too easy on All Hallows Eve. For one night, mortals imbibe their more sinful pleasures, becoming whatever they wish to become and doing those things they would only confess toward doing in secret every other day of the year. Costumes adorn the masses, hiding their identities while revealing their wildest fantasies at the same time. I have watched both the lies and the truth painted before me in a confession no priest would ever absolve.
While I could join in the festivities, masking myself like a charlatan, there is something to be said for being one’s self while the rest of the world is busy being somebody else.
Especially when one is a vampire.
For one night, my smiles become wider, my words of seduction more pointed without fear of it scaring away my target. These days, I do not kill in such a wanton manner, but during my days as Sabrina’s assassin, the world was an oyster and I feasted until my heart was content. At times, I could even get my older, more regal brother to join in the fun. Halloween of 1986 was one such occasion.
It should be noted that Robin was no saint and would never purport to be as such. At the time, however, the vampire elder who served as my mentor realized what kind of creature I became under his tutelage. I loved sadism; lived for the kill so much that I became a monster in a black suit rather than a hunter of the night. As much as Robin blamed himself for the demon I was, he still had his base instincts to contend against.
I passed him in the vestibule on my way out the door.
The grand entryway, boasting gilded banisters and plush carpeting, was the one place in the coven you would be likely to brush past me if you saw me at all. It was its own central meeting place beyond the common area where my brethren would lounge about in sloth for the better part of the night. I never had use for such behavior. As such, when I alighted from the stairs that evening and strolled past my immortal brethren, I did not so much as cast a glance in their direction.
It was not until Robin spoke that I paused.
“Brother?” he said, his voice so familiar I would have recognized it in my sleep. The sound of footsteps accompanied his words. “Please, wait for me.”
Stopping halfway between the stairs and the front door, I turned to regard my brother as he jogged to catch up. His hair tied back as always, he wore a three piece suit and bore same regal air he did every night. A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth as I noted the rigid formality latent even in his stride. I often wondered if most elder vampires were as stodgy as he was. “Yes, Robin?” I asked, grateful that the dark sunglasses I wore to protect my sensitive vision also blocked the way I rolled my eyes.
Robin stopped a few feet shy of me and sighed. “For a moment, I suspected you meant to ignore me.” As he raised an eyebrow, he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Where are you headed?”
“To see to the night.” My smirk turned dark. “Doing what it is we vampires do.”
“Doing what it is you do, you mean.” Robin huffed, glancing away momentarily. “I swear you feed upon the world as though it is all feast and no famine.”
“The mortal populace continues procreating. It is hardly my fault. My word, Robin.” I laughed. “Are you touchy this evening?”
He sighed. “My apologies, brother,” he said, looking back at me. “I’ve had a poor evening and the night has just begun.”
“You and Sabrina, yet again?”
“Need you ask?”
“No.” My smile faded. “A layer of ice forms on the floor whenever you happen to come within fifty feet of each other. It is a wonder you are her second.”
“There are moments I marvel at the same thing, dear brother.” Robin’s eyes shifted downward, gaze fixed upon the tiled floor.
The fine linen of my jacket formed creases at the elbow as I folded my arms across my chest. One hand rested upon my upper arm, my fingers tapping out a silent rhythm. “What in God’s name has become of you?” I asked.
Robin’s eyes rose to meet mine. “What are you talking about?”
“You.” I shook my head. “You used to be a hunter on par with no other, from what the others have told me. I still recall being that neophyte immortal you scolded on everything. My manners, my tactics, my fucking language.”
He scowled, as I knew he would. “I hate when you do that.”
“Yes, yes, when I curse, or smoke, or inhale air in a manner not becoming of an immortal.” I paused. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Precisely. What about you? Let us talk about acting in a manner unbecoming of an immortal.” Lowering my arms, I clasped my hands behind my back, commencing to pace around my brother. “Here you are sulking while the world continues turning around you. Do you recall what tonight is?”
“Yes,” he said in an exasperated huff. “It’s Halloween. Samhain. The mortal world’s excuse for dressing up and whoring themselves to the darkness as though the darkness would have them.”
“You are looking at this in altogether the wrong manner, Robin.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning a bit closer, becoming the serpent seducing Eve. “Tonight is not merely Halloween, it is opportunity.”
He furrowed his brow, a skeptical look forming on his face. “Opportunity for what?”
“Opportunity for what?” I asked rhetorically. “Listen to you. Use your imagination, dear brother. Think of the mortal world, begging for its monsters to visit them; its witches and werewolves and vampires. Think of two handsome, pale gentlemen walking into a nightclub.” I paused, relishing the thought as though imbibing the sweetest of wines. “Flashing smiles in the same manner that rich men flaunt their wealth, watching the mortals fall into their laps for a dance with the vampire. Their minds so at ease; so placated with the warm notion that what stands before them is just another human playing a game in their embellished masquerade. Think of the surprise in their eyes when they discover the monsters are real.”
Robin did not respond right away, but I sensed him tense a bit, as though pretending his vampire instincts did not taste the notion on the tip of his tongue as well. “I refuse to play your games, Flynn,” he finally said.
“Fine.” I lifted my hand from his shoulder and shrugged. “Then purchase a drink and watch. Either way, you need to remove yourself from this coven before you disgust me. You, who were my teacher.” I tsked. “What would the elder vampires say if they caught sight of you wasting such a night in favor of sipping brandy and brooding in the dark?”
Robin raised an eyebrow at me. “You truly are the devil.”
“In the flesh. Now, come...” I motioned forward. “Do not make me have to drag you. That would be all the more embarrassing of a sight and Sabrina would mock you for nights to come.”
My older brother bristled and I laughed, waiting until he followed along before closing the distance to the exit and exchanging brusque ‘good evenings’ with the doorman as he held the door open. Robin strolled behind me until we descended the front stairs and strolled out onto the streets of Philadelphia.
The night bore temptation in the air, palpable enough to cause my fangs to ache. Warmer than usual for the season, the breeze yet hinted toward the chill of winter on the horizon. I lit a cigarette and glanced at Robin, noticing him step away from me a few paces lest he be forced to inhale my addiction the next time he drew a breath. I smirked. “You know, dear brother,” I said, “These clubs are notorious for being filled with smoke.”
“I am still not pleased with you,” he said, changing the subject. “I have no idea why I let you drag me into this.”
“Because you need a thrill, admit it.” I drew deeply from the cigarette, exhaling smoke as I talked. “Your immortal life has become too mundane for words and you wished to have some fun. You best thank The Fates you have me as a brother. Otherwise heaven only knows what would become of you.”
Robin muttered underneath his breath and I laughed. Silence followed and filled the space between us until we arrived at one of the city’s budding Gothic nightclubs, something of a recent concept as the macabre began to find itself a niche amongst the mortal world. As we entered, a room filled with pulses and the heavy stench of alcohol, smoke, and sweat wrapped around us, to the tune of Depeche Mode inviting all to join a ‘black celebration’. Hardly one to refuse such an offer, I stepped through the crowd with Robin in tow.
We cut through a pack of faux vampires and their equally faux victims, dripping with fake blood. Men in white makeup with black eye shadow danced with women revealing more skin than remained hidden beneath their risqué attire. Some wore tight leather and others were clad in gowns with dipping necklines. I fought the urge to salivate over the potential victims in favor of fetching a drink first.
Arriving at the bar, I placed my hands on the counter and leaned close to the bartender, shouting over the music. “Excuse me, good fellow,” I said, pausing only a moment to regard the black makeup he wore as well. It served to be an odd contrast against the multiple piercings and spiked, black hair. Wondering if the dog collar indicated he was somebody’s pet, I continued, “A scotch for me, if you will.”
The man nodded, then glanced at Robin as he walked up beside me. “And you?”
Robin raised an eyebrow at our eccentric company. “I don’t imagine you keep a fresh supply of blood on hand, do you?”
I snorted. The man stared at Robin, but refused to answer, which prompted my brother to wave his hand dismissively. “Give me whatever he’s having,” he said. The bartender nodded and turned to fill our drink order.
I produced my wallet and raised an eyebrow at Robin. “A room full of mortals and you ask for a fresh supply of blood?” I asked.
“I was being sarcastic,” Robin said. “Not my fault the freak of nature does not know how to take a joke.”
Producing money from my billfold, I placed it onto the counter, before slipping my wallet back into my pocket. “You really must lighten up,” I said as I lit another cigarette and turned to face the crowd. I blew a billow of smoke toward the masses and watched them dance. “Now, tell me what looks good to you.”
Robin nodded at the bartender as he placed our drinks before us and snatched the money. My brother took his glass in hand and swirled the contents around while turning to face the dance floor as well. “What exactly do you have in mind, dare I ask?”
I smirked, raising my cigarette to my mouth again. “A drink and a dance. Perhaps even a kiss. Enough of something to poison their minds until we strike.”
“No, I meant what is so important about a hunt on Halloween? Do you seriously intend to flaunt what we are to these unsuspecting fools?”
“It shall be sporting.” I nudged Robin once with my elbow. Pivoting, I fetched my drink and tipped it back into my throat, imbibing the contents in full. As I placed the glass back onto the bar, I cocked my head toward the crowd. “Now, since you seem bent to make me do all of the work myself, do you see those girls right over there?”
Robin followed my line of sight to a duo conversing amongst themselves – a redheaded girl and a brunette both adorned with tight, lowcut gowns and pale makeup on their faces. Slowly, his glass touched his mouth and a little of the amber-colored liquid slid past his lips and into his throat. He shook his head. “Too easy,” he said. “They are purporting to be vampires. They’d play into our hands within seconds.”
I perked an eyebrow and drew from my cigarette. “You wish a challenge, then?”
Robin shrugged. “Might as well make it worth our while.” A finger from the hand holding the glass extended in the direction of another group. “The two nurses over there. They are more tempting, in my opinion. Besides, you were a doctor as a mortal. This should be familiar territory for you.”
Sneering, I muttered, “Yes, and we both know what a sainted physician I am now.” I rolled my eyes and looked at Robin as he grinned and polished off his drink. I shook my head in response while extinguishing my cigarette. “Well, come, then. You chose the victims, now you are bound to follow through.” He set down his glass. I took hold of his shoulder, pushing him forward, my hand remaining in place while we marched away from the bar.
Dressed in white parodies of nurse apparel –too revealing to be real, something I hardly complained about – the duo Robin had chosen were not the type to harbor a vampire fetish. Being inside the confines of a Gothic nightclub, though, ensured seducing them would still be a simple endeavor. I let go of Robin once we reached their vicinity and caught their eyes. “I beg your pardon,” I said, taking the lead. “But I could not help but notice two pretty nurses from across the room. You make me wistful for my mortal days.”
Though both looked uncannily similar, they were not twins. One stood a few inches taller than her friend and was the first to speak, an eyebrow raised at me. “Your mortal days?” she asked.
I nodded, smiling wider than I normally dared to smile, revealing the daggers which slumbered in my mouth. “Yes, prior to becoming... this... I was a doctor.”
“Holy shit,” her friend said, speaking up. “Those are sharp-looking. Where did you get them?”
“They were a gift. Along with the pale skin and absence of a pulse.” I winked.
She laughed and nudged her friend. “Do you believe it? We caught the attention of a vampire.”
“Ut-ut...” I waggled my finger at them, as though to tsk. “Not one, my dear, but two.” Stepping to the side, I grabbed Robin by the arm and forced him front and center. He jerked his arm from my grip and brushed off his jacket, but I kept my hand hovering mere inches away. “This is my older brother, Robin. Not merely a vampire, but a vampire elder.”
Robin shot me a look of annoyance, but then allowed his gaze to drift toward the ladies. A much more amiable tenor developed from there. “Good evening,” he said, bowing. He took one lady’s hand and offered it a gentlemanly kiss, then did the same with her friend. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The taller of the two laughed. “Oh you both are just too rich,” she said. “Usually the ‘vampires’ in this place are crude assholes.”
“A blemish on our kind, then,” Robin said. I only grinned, beholding further proof that you can take the hunter away from the hunt, but cannot remove the hunt from the hunter. My older brother demonstrated this when he held onto the taller woman’s hand and started to pull her away. “Allow me to atone for them and show you what dashing gentlemen we can truly be.”
She chuckled, looking at her friend with lips pursed in an expression of delighted intrigue. “He’s going to show me what a dashing gentleman he is,” she said, speaking to her friend.
Her friend giggled. “Hopefully he’s not the only one,” she said, stealing a glance at me.
I pressed my hand against my chest and bowed. “My dear, I assure you that not only am I a gentleman, I am the more exciting devil.” My grin turned cunning, a wicked glint developing in my eyes even if she could not see this behind my dark spectacles. The corner of her mouth curled upward in a grin. I extended my hand to her as well. “Might I buy you a drink?”
She chuckled, eyebrow perked as the skeptical gaze she offered failed to mask her amusement. “Alright,” she said. “But only because I find you extremely attractive.”
“All the better for me, then.” I winked and closed my hand around hers when her fingers touched mine. Glancing back at Robin, I waved my other hand at him, grinning while he shook his head at me and turned to engage his would-be victim. The old boy was already loosening up. I knew he would thank me for it later.
Turning back to my own pursuit, I let go of her hand in favor of offering her my arm to take hold of. “Now,” I said once her fingers touched the fine linen of my suit. “Tell me what lured you away from the hospital tonight. There are undoubtedly going to be some disappointed patients.”
“What makes you think they’ll be disappointed?” she asked.
“Well, all I can say is... If the nurses were as attractive as you when I was a doctor, I might not have been lured into immortality.” I smirked. “You certainly would be enough to inspire the infirmed into a speedy recovery.”
She giggled. My grin turned that much more devilish. Robin was wrong; this would be like shooting fish in a barrel. “Oh really?” she asked as she approached the bar. The bartender looked up in our direction and nodded toward us as she continued. “Well, Dr. …”
“No Doctor any longer, Pet.” I slipped my hand in my pocket for my wallet again. “Call me Flynn.”
“Flynn? That’s an unusual name.”
I produced another bill and put away my wallet, my eyes never leaving hers. “The first and last you shall ever meet, I can promise you that much.”
“Ooh, frightening.” She laughed, pausing our conversation long enough for us to order drinks and send the bartender on his merry way. I lit another cigarette and placed it on an empty ashtray as she looked at me. “You know, I’m really not a nurse.”
“Of course you are.” I grinned. “Does a tempting creature such as you have a name, though?”
“Madeline.” Her blue eyes shimmered a bit as she spoke. She was telling me the truth. Trusting fool. “And I’m not. I just dressed this way for Halloween. I’m really an accountant with a firm in Center City.”
She could have told me she was the Queen of Persia and I would not have cared either way. “Well, I hate to sound curt, but I really am a vampire.”
“Is this the line you feed everyone you try to get in bed?”
I drew from my cigarette, leaning an elbow on the bar. “You do not believe me?”
Placing one hand on her hip, she pivoted and shot me a look of disbelief. I laughed. “I shall grant you one better, Pet,” I continued, “I was indeed a doctor.”
“Oh yeah?” The bartender returned with our drinks. She took hers in hand. “Prove it.”
“Very well.” I placed my cigarette on the ashtray again. Capturing one of her hands – the one not holding her glass – I raised her wrist to my lips. “Did you know one does not necessarily have to puncture the neck to start the outward flow of blood?” I kissed her soft skin. “You have two succulent arteries in this beautiful arm of yours called the radial and ulnar with two corresponding veins of the same name. Personally, I prefer the arteries. The blood is purer, in my opinion.”
Madeline watched as I ran my nose along her arm. I felt her suppress a shiver. The sweet scent of blood pounding through the aforementioned circulatory conduits drifted past my nostrils, becoming the most tempting perfume I ever imbibed. I lowered her arm, but one hand continued holding onto her wrist as I pulled her against me – back touching chest. She tensed a little. Fear rose to intermingle with the smell of desire, but only a trifle. Not nearly enough for my taste. I touched her chin and turned her head to the side. “Do you know which artery I prefer?” I asked.
She swallowed as a reflex. “Which one?”
“The carotid.” I kissed her neck, above the sweetest spot. Its pulse became a siren’s call; its scent an aphrodisiac. My eyes rolled back and I suppressed a groan while my lids drifted shut. “The blood vessel supplying the brain with oxygen. Did you know –” My fangs begged to extend. “– That as the body loses blood and becomes hypovolemic, the oxygen deprivation will cause you to start feeling cold... thirsty. They call that shock, love. You die long before I could extract every pint of blood, so in truth I only drain half before you go into cardiac arrest.”
My lips raised and found their way to her ear, brushing against it as I whispered, “Do you believe me now, Madeline?”
I meant the statement both ways. She meant her response only one. “Yes, I do.”
“Good.” Releasing her, I spun her around and lifted her wrist again. Only this time I kissed her hand and let it go. Her heart pounded in her chest. Madeline smiled in a hesitant manner, still knee-deep in denial. She raised her glass to her mouth and finally took a sip of her drink. “So,” she said. “If you’re not a doctor any longer, then what are you?”
I plucked my cigarette from the ashtray. “An assassin.”
She ceased drinking at once. “An assassin?”
“Yes, I kill people. Ironic, is it not?”
I smiled as winsomely as possible, smoke drifting from my nostrils as I exhaled. We stared at each other for a moment until Madeline burst into a fit of laughter. She began into a cacophonous and rambling monologue, discussing what a card I was and how much fun I must be to have such an overactive imagination. As she spoke, I glanced across the room at Robin, seeing him dance with his prey and lean close to her, his eyes rising from the neck he kissed to look up at me. Murder danced across his cold, blue eyes, his own dalliance with temptation well under way.
“Say, dear,” I said, cutting off Madeline as I looked back at her. “I apologize for intruding, but might we indulge in a dance?” I extinguished my cigarette and picked up my second glass of scotch. “Your friend and my brother seem to be having all the fun.”
“Oh, really?” She looked in their direction as I polished off my drink. Madeline finished hers as well, her eyes returning to mine as she and I set our empty glasses beside each other on the bar. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away. “Janey’s going to rub it in if we don’t dance, too. Come on, let’s show them how to have a good time.”
“Oh, if only you knew, dear Madeline,” I said, muttering underneath my breath. The music began to pick up, becoming loud and blotting out the devilish discourse I indulged with myself. The closer we came to the deejay, the harder conversation became which suited me just fine. Now was the time to begin the seduction. Now was the time to join the black celebration.
Madeline stopped at the edge of the dance floor, but I freed myself from her clutches, causing her some alarm as I placed a hand on her shoulder. My fingertips drifted from shoulder to shoulder as I casually walked behind her, a shiver throttling up her spine until she tensed from the chill. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her against my chest again, and she settled into my embrace, one of her arms snaking around my neck. I bent low to kiss her neck as our bodies began swaying to the melody.
“Death is
everywhere.
There
are flies on the windscreen, for a start.
Reminding
us we could be torn apart. Tonight.
“Death is
everywhere.
There
are lambs for the slaughter, waiting to die.
And
I can sense the hours slipping by. Tonight.
“Come here.
Kiss me. Now.
Come
here. Kiss me. Now.”
I looked up in time to see her eyelids flutter closed, her breaths becoming heavier as her body melted into mine. One of my hands rose toward her head, fingers intertwining with locks of hair, while my other hand pressed against her stomach and caressed her body. Madeline’s lips parted, forming the word, ‘Yes,’ while the song continued drowning her out. A crowd of people gathered around us, everyone engaged the same as we were, with the faux vampires nibbling on each other using false fangs. This was too rich.
My gaze shifted over to Robin, my fangs slipping out. A playful smile surfaced on my face. Robin looked at me, flashing a quick glance around us, his eyes becoming wide. ‘What the devil are you doing?’ he mouthed.
I did not answer. Still staring at Robin, I drove my teeth into her neck, causing her to jump before the hand nested in her hair quickly situated itself over her mouth. She whimpered and struggled against the firm hold I had on her, but nothing would be parting our bodies as rivulets of warm blood started to flow into my mouth. This time, my lids were the ones fluttering closed. I groaned against her skin and sucked and siphoned, increasing the flow the more I forced through the puncture wounds.
She attempted a scream, but the music ensured nobody but me heard. My lips hid the evidence of my actions, making it appear as though I was lost in the throes of passion, and as the blood loss became substantial, she relaxed and moaned in a manner indistinguishable from being pleasured. I took my time and pulled away with Madeline still clinging to the barest threads of life. Nibbling at her ear lobe, I whispered a question, asking if she believed me now. “Yes,” she said, in the weakest whisper such a little doe was capable of, and I smiled the devil’s smile in response.
I looked at Robin and cocked my head toward him.
Robin had been watching the entire time. His eyes remained set on me feeding, his hands pressing hard against his own dance partner as his immortal instincts clamored within him. My wicked grin resurfaced. I licked Madeline’s neck, fangs still exposed. ‘Your turn, brother,’ I mouthed.
My brother’s eyes shifted to the woman in his arms while his fangs descended. He bent at the waist enough to press his nose against her neck, and when I saw him take a deep breath, I watched him lose himself in the moment. Playing the voyeur, I saw the dark dance play out, Robin’s teeth plunging into his victim, causing her to jump the same way Madeline had when I bit her. He held her friend tight, however, and somehow managed to continue swaying with her as though something more sensual than macabre was transpiring.
He drew from her in lusty gulps and Madeline moaned in my arms, coaxing me back to my own feed. Biting into her once more, I filled my mouth with the warm, rich taste of her blood and this time I did not cease until her pulse became a dying ember. Madeline fell limp in my arms. I looked up to see Robin’s victim do the same. He raised his head from her neck, eyes still closed, the corner of his mouth curled upward as his crimson-stained fangs slid back into his jaw. He and I made eye contact. A look of sheer bliss sharpened the blue of his irises.
Smiling to myself, I carried Madeline from the dance floor. Robin followed with his depleted paramour. Half-finished drinks were placed before them, setting up the scene of two passed out party girls, and permitted us more than enough time to make our escape. As we strolled out of the establishment, I wrestled with the temptation to check the newspapers for what would transpire when their bodies were discovered. I chased that thought aside quickly, though, and focused on my brother instead.
He wore the same look of satisfaction upon his countenance, his eyes still ablaze. Neither of us spoke for a while, until I glanced at him once more and broke the pregnant silence between us. “Did you have fun?” I asked.
He scoffed. “I still don’t know about you and your little games with the mortals.” Robin shook his head and sighed. “I swear, Flynn, one of these days they will become wise to you and get the better of you.”
“Not bloody likely.” I paused to light another cigarette, then slid the pack into my jacket pocket. My gaze returned to Robin’s when the expression on his face failed to match his words. It was written for the entire world to see and I spoke it as such. “Come now, Robin,” I said. “Tell me you did not enjoy a little Halloween fun.”
The telling grin resurfaced on his face, the final nail being hammered in the coffin. “I could tell you that,” he said when the grin blossomed full bloom into a smile. “But then, I would be lying.”
###
“As always, thanks for reading.”
###
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Keep Reading for more Vampire Flynn
an
excerpt from…
EYES OF THE SEER
(a novel by Peter Dawes)
An excerpt from…
Eyes
of the Seer by Peter Dawes
I despised when others kept me waiting.
My fingers twirled an unlit cigarette around before raising it to my mouth and inserting it between my lips. The bright orange glow of embers sparking to life followed a quick search through my pocket for my lighter, and had anyone been watching, they might have been impressed by the deft, fluid motions of one action flowing swiftly into the next. Instead, the thick crowd of mortals seemed distracted by other things – loud music, for one, and the putrid stench of their own sweat as they gyrated about the dance floor. I rolled my eyes behind the protection of my sunglasses and searched the area for my target.
Each day I permitted him to continue his pitiful existence, I was risking both my neck and my reputation. I should have never allowed it, lest my brethren speculate that the assassin might be growing soft or, worse, merciful. Even I pondered the paradox – if staying my hand indicated a latent weakness rising to the surface – but the compulsion which caused me to spare his life whispered the reason for the risk.
He had ways of locating desired items that left all the seven covens in awe over his scavenging abilities. As such, when Sabrina touched my ear with her cool lips and whispered his name as my next target, I knew I had to use this moment to its fullest. My mistress left for New York and the window of opportunity remained opened for three days. This was the last day, however. The time had come to settle debts with a man living on borrowed time.
I drew from the cigarette again and peered through the smoke, looking for the garishly dressed immortal that chose this location for our meeting because he enjoyed frequenting this club. My eyes scanned the crowd while I commenced questioning my sanity.
Four years had passed, ticking their interminable minutes and registering one more day following the one prior until the months began to stack up. Time itself held little significance but to count one more stroke upon the wall; one more day elapsed, one more year winding to a close. Such seemed to be the unbroken melody which made up my existence, underscored by the plethora of concerns an assassin could be expected to face. Robin’s forewarning that my peaceful existence as a neophyte was to perish had proven apropos. I sensed it as I rose each evening.
I was a shadow and, yet, I was infamous. The name of Flynn possessed such a reputation to send shivers down every immortal spine within the city, and merely evoking it would garner a reflexive glance over their collective shoulders that bordered on superstitious. I relished it, savoring even the plots formed against my life by conspirators who met their eventual end by my hand. All who gazed upon my countenance by design found their time was through. Death saturated my life with crimson-colored decadence.
It evoked the slightest bit of unease, that I had become this monster after only five years.
“Losing your bloody edge,” I muttered, dismissing the thought just as quickly as it had surfaced. I knew what caused this instability within – a dream which still taunted me, even after several weeks had elapsed since I woke with its images fresh in my mind. I relived it each time I considered what placed me on my current course; a memory from my mortal days I had never regained. To recapture something lost after five years was nothing short of a miracle.
I sighed and glanced at my watch, focusing my attention back on the task at hand. The urge to inspect the time surfaced and was dismissed a half-dozen more times before my quarry finally arrived. Had I been forced to wait any longer, I might have had to murder somebody to retain my sanity.
Through the crowd, I spotted him strolling across the dance floor. A stark contrast to the men and women dressed in shiny, modern material, he donned a crushed velvet suit. I rolled my eyes in response, stealing a moment to reflect on how often our kind indulged in the most garish fashions possible. His pale skin nearly appeared to glow from the combination of dark clothing and strobe lights; Anthony seemed only to lack a flashing sign to advertise what he was. The mortal woman holding onto his arm added to the absurdity with her too-thick makeup and promiscuous attire.
Anthony kissed her hand as he helped her slide onto a chair. I stepped from the shadows, drawing from my cigarette and exhaling a cloud of smoke large enough to give myself away. The movement and the puff of white worked their magic. Anthony turned his head, spotting me, while I shot him an impatient glare.
“Excuse me, my dear,” Anthony said to his companion. “A little business to attend to.” He winked at her conspiratorially before stepping away. She watched while he nodded at me and cocked his head toward the back. I stood straight, pivoting to stroll for the door to the alleyway running behind this godforsaken establishment without waiting for him.
Once outside, a rush of cold air hit me and I felt reborn. The door shut, drowning out the noise from inside. I strolled to the other side of the vacant street and leaned against an adjacent building, finishing my cigarette and flicking its remnant onto the pavement. No sooner did the depleted nicotine smash into the macadam in a display of sparks than the door swung open, bringing with it a painful reminder of the music and the stench from inside.
Anthony looked at me and smiled while the door clucked shut behind him. I breathed a sigh of relief as the night became still once more. “Flynn!” Anthony said, the tone of his voice making it sound as though we were long-lost friends. “I didn’t realize you were to return so shortly! You certainly don’t waste time, do you?”
“I told you two nights, Anthony,” I said, without moving from my position. “And you agreed. It has been two nights and here I am.”
“And I should have known Flynn is a man of his word.” Anthony adjusted the cravat tied around his neck, another embellishment making his entire outfit look all the more idiotic. “I trust the arrangement we agreed upon is still favorable?”
My facial expression remained stoic. “Were you able to find it?”
Anthony chuckled. “I am able to find anything, given enough persuasion. I spent the better part of last evening interrogating mortals and bleeding them dry to find its current owner. One of my more daunting challenges, but, I found it.”
“Let me see it.”
“Tut, tut.” Anthony lifted a finger, wagging it back and forth in a gesture which threatened to make me lose my self-restraint. With a tremendous amount of effort, I pushed aside my agitation. “First, the answer to my question. You told me that if I procured your trinket, you would offer me protection from Sabrina. Is this agreement still favorable?”
“I have not indicated otherwise.” I glared as much as possible through the dark lenses of my sunglasses. Stepping forward a pace, I folded my arms across my chest, feeling the hilt of my knives press against my body from their position underneath my heavy wool coat. “Now, allow me to see it. My end of the bargain is contingent upon this being the item I requested.”
“Very well.” Anthony slipped a hand into his jacket and removed his wallet from his interior pocket. My anticipation mounted. “I recognized it instantly from your description, so I think you’ll find this to be the charm in question.” I watched as he opened the billfold and felt as though, if I had a pulse, it would be racing. The action of leather unfolding took on painful slowness, with my mind already envisioning the item I sold in haste four years ago. He reached inside, but then paused.
I could have spat acid when he closed the wallet again.
“You know, Flynn, I find it strange that an immortal with your reputation asked for something like this,” he began, apparently emboldened by my affirmation that I still considered our deal favorable. Anthony dug into his coat again and produced a pack of cigarettes from within. “I’ve fielded some fairly unusual requests –” One stick wound up perched between his lips while he fumbled for his lighter. “– And discovered a great deal about other vampires as a result, but when you told me you wanted something so… feminine… I was taken aback.” He chuckled, exhaling smoke through his nostrils while pocketing his lighter. “I thought, if anything, you would desire some sort of weapon.”
Drawing a deep breath inward, I held it long enough to steady my anger. “Anthony, as I told you before, this is none of your fucking business.”
“Come now, Flynn. Indulge me.” He smiled. “Tell me of its relevance.”
“I...” The word emerged through the precarious hold I maintained on my own rage. My sharp tone of voice turned vitriolic. “...Would sooner slit your throat and take your wallet while you choke on your own blood. Let us finish our business before I change my mind.”
Anthony shook his head. “Now, no need to get snarky. It’s a simple question.”
“And my response a simple answer. Leave it the fuck alone.”
“You know what your problem is.” With one hand, Anthony slid the wallet back into his coat. The other hand pointed his cigarette at me while he spoke. “You’re too intense, Flynn, for such a young immortal. You take your job too seriously and became reclusive and arrogant as a result. I can assure you, this will earn you no friends amongst the vampire collective.”
“As if I desired such a thing.” My arms fell to my sides. I began to step around Anthony, itching to instill the fear of God in him, now that the name of the game had changed. “You are all pompous bastards – the lot of you – and your ways irritate me. I could not care less about the opinions of such impotent mortal lovers.”
Anthony’s eyes widened first, and then narrowed. “What did you call me?”
The corner of my mouth curled in a grin. “I called you a fucking mortal lover. What do you have to say about that?”
Anthony gritted his teeth, tossing aside his cigarette. “I would say that if being something other than the monster you are makes me a mortal lover, then being Sabrina’s trained pet makes you little more than the same brand of trash she is. Refuse.” He scoffed. “Utter refuse. Chosen son of an inferior coven! You have yours coming to you someday, I can promise you that.”
“Is this a threat?”
“More than a threat, it’s a fact. Even I see the jealousy your brethren harbor for you. Such jealousy can only fester for so long. They’ll surrender your head on a platter the first moment somebody offers thirty pieces of silver.” He smiled. “You may have the exterior of a warrior, but you have the heart of a lap dog. And I will not be insulted by such a subordinate creature.”
“You shall see the teeth of this lap dog soon enough if you fail to produce that which you promised me, Anthony.” Two pointed teeth emerged from their slumber as I ceased pacing, balling my gloved hands into fists. “Or need I run you through to prove my point?”
Anthony hissed, his own fangs slipping out and his eyes shooting figurative flames of wrath. “Bare your teeth at me will you? I was eating the flesh of children before you were suckling on your mother’s breast.”
“And I have slain immortals for less arrogance than that.” Faster than the action of lighting a cigarette, I slipped both hands under the folds of my coat and drew a set of blades, holding out both knives for Anthony to see. “Eager to die?” I asked. “Do you have any notion of how quickly I could make you dust on the pavement?”
Anthony sneered. “Where other men fight with fists, Flynn carries knives with him.”
“Better a blade than a stake.” I lunged with a knife, but missed on purpose. Anthony dodged out of the way, his grin turning smug while I held back any facial response – including the sadistic grin straining to emerge. “I find stakes idiotic,” I continued. “Do you not?”
“Over-inflated mythological devises, much like you.”
I lunged again, this time cutting into his jacket, forcing him to retreat a few paces. Anthony’s eyes darted to the cut and back to me as if afraid to allow me out of his sight. I smirked. “Is that supposed to be an insult?” I asked. “Coming from a vampire who dresses like the ringmaster of a circus and takes the company of mortals to cover for his inadequacies? I hope to heaven that if I am as pitiful of a creature at your age, somebody does me the favor of sending me to hell.”
He hissed once more. When he dove for me, I sidestepped the attack and threw him to the ground. He spilled out and moaned, but rose to his feet. I anticipated Anthony’s next charge, and kicked him in the chest with such force that his feet left the ground. His head impacted with the concrete of the wall; a solid thud preceded a long, pain-laden groan.
Springing toward him, I closed the distance between us and plunged a dagger deep into his stomach. Anthony screamed as I stepped back, watching him struggle. The hilt of my knife jutted from his abdomen. I had him pinned, and his wriggling merely served to injure him further.
I turned the other knife around in my hand, surveying the ruins of a vampire with my sadistic smirk only growing more devious the longer I regarded him. “My, what an uncomfortable position to be in,” I said, shaking my head. “And to think, I have another knife here that... ah yes, wait...” I held up a finger and lifted the blade close to my ear. “Yes, yes, I do believe this one says it wishes to know how black your heart is, Anthony. I do not know if I will be able to stop...”
“Alright!” Anthony yelled. He moaned once more and gritted his teeth, eyes clenching in a grimace. “Alright, I won’t ask any more bloody questions, Flynn. Just let me down.”
“I beg your pardon?” I lowered the knife, twirling it around once before slipping it back into his sheath. “I believe you forgot to say please.”
“Please! Please, please... Bloody hell, let me down. I’m begging you.”
“That is more like it.” Walking closer to Anthony, I wrapped my fingers around the knife’s hilt, but leaned forward and made certain to bare fangs again as I spoke. “Remember who you are trifling with. I would slice you from neck to stomach and leave you bleeding on the street to watch the sun rise. I suggest, when I remove this blade, you give me what I came for quickly and stop wasting my fucking time.”
I ripped the knife from his body before he had the chance to answer and watched with an apathetic air as he crumpled to the gritty pavement again. Strolling away from the wounded vampire, I produced a cloth from my pocket and wiped the blade clean, my eyes rising toward the sky to gauge the time. I frowned and sheathed this blade as well. “Some time before dawn, please,” I said. “It is not getting any earlier.”
“Fuck,” Anthony muttered while clutching onto the building and coming to a tentative stand. Pausing to touch his wound, he winced and raised his crimson-coated fingers up to his line of vision. “I had best make this our last encounter. You just ruined a perfectly good suit.”
I said nothing in return. Anthony rummaged through his coat again and unfolded his wallet without hesitation. As he opened it, that sense of time standing still drifted from the creases of the leather and his bloody fingers held my attention captive while they reached inside. A gold chain gradually came to view as he raised his hand, and when the pendant emerged from its hiding place I had to fight the urge to draw a sharp breath inward at the sight of what he held.
Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Is this what you requested?” he asked.
I strolled forward with more confidence in my gait than I possessed at the moment and snatched the necklace away. “Yes,” I said, my voice subdued in such a queer manner, it even struck me as odd. I cleared my throat to mask the slip in composure. Staring at the pendant, I lowered it into the palm of my other hand and allowed my thoughts to drift.
I visited another time and place. Back to when my name was Peter and I possessed the pulse of a mortal man.
It was supposed to be an engagement ring. That was why I withdrew several hundred dollars from the trust fund my aunt established before she succumbed to cancer. The money from my parents’ life insurance policies and the profits from selling my father’s farm were all meant to sustain me through medical school, but as my residency drew to a close, I came to the conclusion that the time was right to propose to my beloved Lydia. That was why I found myself at the jewelry store.
I emerged with something other than a ring, however.
On this side of my dance with immortality, I could not recall why I purchased the necklace for her until visited by the dream. Then all at once, this calloused heart felt a chill cross over its grave and relived the memory as though it had some relevance to the grander scheme of things. I recalled the jeweler looking across the counter at an indecisive young man, watching as I studied several diamond rings and rejected each one. Finally, he huffed and said, “Mr. Dawes, if you’re not sure about this, then it’s probably not the best time to propose to her, is it?”
Looking up at him, I furrowed my brow, glancing from his face to the counter and back again. I frowned at my hesitation, yet allowed myself to peruse the rest of his wares until my eyes settled on it. Gilded and Gothic, it fit her personality better than the cut pieces of stone I had been studying anyway. “Well, I need to get something for her,” I said to the crotchety old bastard. “It’s her birthday in a few days.”
My eyes continued to admire the pendant, taking in all of its intricacies. Two hearts, one on top of the other, with a thorny rose draped across the two. It was something so intricate and yet, so macabre. At once, I knew Lydia was meant to have it. It was a perfect emblem for her.
I recalled purchasing it. I recalled giving it to her. That was another memory causing me some degree of...
“Flynn?”
Shaking myself from my thoughts, my eyes lifted to engage Anthony’s once more. He clutched his stomach and scowled at me. “Is this what you were looking for?”
“Yes.” I nodded and thrust the necklace into my pocket. “You are a clever bastard, I shall give you that.”
“Good. Then our agreement is intact?”
“Oh yes. I shall ensure Sabrina does not touch a hair upon your head.”
“Praise be to the Fates.” Anthony sighed, glancing at his blood-soaked hand. “I feared when we first met that she had ordered you to do me in. Believe me, Flynn, I’ll not be crossing your path again, except on accid...”
As he looked at me again, I reached underneath my coat and drew a knife. With a deft flick of my wrist, I whipped it toward Anthony, whose eyes became wide as the blade plunged deep into his chest.
I grinned. “No, Anthony. Not even on accident.”
What had once been Anthony burned into dust and descended onto the ground as ash and discarded clothing. My knife bounced off the pavement with a clank and came to settle next to his remains while a gust of wind carried his remnant into the nether. I strolled toward the blade, exhaling a breath I did not know I was holding, and paused to clean my weapon again before I slipped it into its sheath. My eyes remained set upon his ashes, though. “I said Sabrina would not. I did not guarantee the same for me.”
With a quick adjustment of my coat and a moment stolen to run my fingers through my hair, I set out with my pearl of great price. As I headed back for my coven, though, I knew I had just played a dangerous game and could yet face wrath for the indulgence. Sabrina’s eyes extended through a network of spies who usually worked to my benefit. In this singular action, though, they became my bane. I had to do it, though; one memory hinted at other secrets lying in wait without telling me what existed behind the veil. All I knew was I wanted to unravel it. I wanted to know who I was at long last.
So, I lit another cigarette, and then slipped into the shadows to seek a proper victim before retiring for the day. And I hoped this small measure of insubordination would not come back to haunt me the next night.
###
(http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/62793)
on Smashwords