The Depths of the Hollow (Mercy Falls Mythos Book 2) Page 9

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  Soon, very soon the sacrifice would come to pass, and their powers would increase tenfold. The more they pleased their Goddess, the more they would be rewarded, and the closer they would get to the immortality they desired.

  He looked in on Alicia. She had been crying recently, her tiny face and eyes red and swollen with tears. She looked up at him with the innocent curiosity he so despised.

  “Are you hungry little one?” Anastasios Drakos said, feigning interest. It was getting harder every day to pretend caring for this insipid fool. He retrieved a bottle of formula from the refrigerator and couldn’t bring himself to feed her. He brought Helena over to do the task. She looked to be the only one the baby girl accepted, and Helena was the only one good at caring for her. Drakos eyed their exchanges with suspicion. She seemed to play the part of the doting mother a little too well. But as long as the child was fed, clothed, and cleansed, he expected things would go smoothly. He would let nothing, not even another member of the coven stand in his way.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SARAH AND STEPHANIE

  “It may be too late for her already,” Stephanie said. “I’m not sure anything I do will make a difference.”

  “No,” Gwen said. “We don’t know that. She could have killed us both the other night.”

  “So what should we do?”

  “Do you have a picture of her?” Gwendolyn asked.

  Stephanie thought about it. “I do. I have one from when we were at the zoo.”

  “Good. Well, we can walk around town and show it to people, ask if they’ve seen her,” Gwen said.

  Stephanie nodded. “Wait a minute; I can’t involve you in this.”

  “I’m already involved. If she’s going to come back for you, she’ll come back for me too.”

  “I suppose. All right, you can come with me when I ask around, but when actually confronting her, you’ll leave that to me.”

  Gwen shook her head. “Look, as much as I don’t want to confront her again, what did I get weapons with you for?” She frowned at her terrible grammar.

  “I don’t know,” Stephanie cried, frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is that you’re the last friend I have left, and I don’t want to get you killed too!”

  “...Too?” Gwen stared. “You’re not responsible for what happened to your friends.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But I was there, both times; helpless to do anything, while they were taken away. I’m like a bad luck charm.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “But that’s how I feel.”

  “Look, I’m absolving you of any guilt. I’m choosing to go with you. Anything that does or doesn’t happen to me is my fault, not yours. I didn’t heed your advice.” She paused, looking Stephanie in the eyes. “I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

  

  When the man’s face was revealed by the light Sarah knew that he knew what she was. There was no doubt. The white-haired man, in his late fifties or early sixties, also looked familiar. She didn’t recognize the deep grooves of his face, or the wisdom and power in them, but knew that she’d seen them before. Sarah did not remember the rooftop or the view of him from above, not because she didn’t have a clear view, but because then he’d been no more than a victim to her. The man she looked at now was no victim.

  “Who are you?” Sarah asked. “I know you from somewhere.”

  He ignored her. “Why are you here?” he asked.

  She was at a loss for words.

  “Are you here to kill me? Lure me someplace to feed on me?” he said.

  “I don’t know what you’re...”

  “What I’m talking about? I may be old but I’m not a fool. While I may not know who you are, I know what you are. The question is, what are you going to do about it, now that you’ve been found out?”

  Sarah stared.

  “The fact that you’d come into a public place like this, even as dead as it is tonight, tells me that you’re a newbie.”

  “I’m not here to kill you,” Sarah said inanely, her voice sounding far away.

  Blake grinned. “Then you don’t know your nature if

  you’ve convinced yourself of that.” He inched closer to her, and Sarah found herself backing away. “Let me tell you something little girl.” He sat back in his seat until he was completely in shadows again, and whispered, “I’ve got enough vials of holy water to boil you like a lobster underneath my coat. I’ve got a stake to pound through your heart. And I’ve got a revolver with silver bullets in it, which may not kill you outright, but I guarantee will hurt like a damn bitch. If fired into your face, at point blank range, in quick succession, it’ll be enough to turn your head into Swiss cheese. You may have the speed, and the power. You could probably leap over this table in an instant and kill me. Then again, I may have just enough time to mortally wound you.”

  Sarah Strobe looked on in disbelief. Blake moved in to where his eyes and grimacing teeth became catch lights, the rest of his features remaining in shadow.

  “Would you care to test that?”

  Sarah shook her head fervently. She didn’t want any of this. She didn’t want this life.

  “Good.” He fell back again, a headless voice in the dark. “My suggestion to you- walk away.”

  Albeit slowly and unsure, she did just that. She turned to go, and he called to her.

  “Young lady!”

  She looked back, without question. The question was in her eyes.

  “Have you fed yet?”

  She bowed her head, ashamed. “Yes. Once.”

  Blake nodded. Although she couldn’t see it she still knew. “Then you are already doomed.”

  Sarah frowned. “I know.” She turned and walked away.

  The bartender/waitress walked up then, placing the

  rum and coke on the table, as she turned her head to watch

  her departing customer.

  “No worries,” Blake said, his arm reaching out from the shadows and sliding the glass toward him, “I’ll have that.”

  

  The next storefront didn’t recognize her, or the one after that. Stephanie and Gwendolyn went all around town showing the photograph of Sarah. Those that did recognize her hadn’t seen her in weeks, before the attack. Before she’d gone missing.

  One of the last places they checked was the Dizzy Diva, on their way back home. It was late afternoon. The bar was completely empty of patrons except for two oldies possibly looking for an Early Bird special. The bartender, a short Hispanic male, hadn’t seen her.

  “No,” he said, “but my shift ends in ten minutes. Jeanne should be coming in. I would ask her too.”

  “Do you mind...?” Stephanie said, gesturing toward the tables, “If we wait here for her?”

  “No, suit yourself. It’s not like we’ve got customers breaking down our door.”

  “I see that,” Stephanie smiled.

  “Can I get you anything while you wait?”

  “Just water please,” Stephanie said.

  “I’ll have a Coke,” Gwen said.

  The bartender nodded, “Coming right up.”

  Eight minutes later Jeanne showed up for her shift. The bartender pointed Stephanie and Gwen out to her. She walked over to their table.

  “I hear you’re looking for someone?” Jeanne said.

  “Yes,” Stephanie showed her the picture. “Have you seen her?”

  Jeanne’s eyes opened up a bit. “Yeah, she was in here last night. Walked straight across the room and sat

  down in that booth over there, across from old crabby.”

  “Old crabby?”

  “Yeah, this old guy that comes in here a few nights a week. He’s not really that crabby, and not really that old. He’s polite enough, but not much for small talk. Pretty much likes to be left alone.”

  “Do you know the guys name?” Stephanie asked.

  “No, never asked. He always pays cash. He doesn’t cause any trouble, so I mind m
y own business. Why, are you the cops? You don’t look like cops,” Jeanne said.

  “No, we’re not,” Gwen said, “Just trying to find her friend.”

  “Is there anything else you remember?” Stephanie asked.

  Jeanne thought about it. “No, noth... wait, there was one thing. I don’t know that it means anything, but it sounded a little odd.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It was when she was walking away. He called something out to her. I wasn’t prying or anything, mind you. It was the only part of the conversation I heard, because I was over by the bar.”

  Stephanie waited expectantly.

  “He asked her, ‘Have you fed yet?’ Not have you eaten, or are you hungry? ‘Have you fed yet?’ I found that strange.”

  Stephanie nodded. “That’s all you heard?”

  “Yep. Sorry if I wasn’t much help.”

  “No, you were plenty. Do you know what time the old man generally comes in?”

  “Hmm, never before ten; sometimes around midnight. I just realized he’s never here on weekends either, which are generally our busiest nights. Guess he likes to avoid crowds.”

  Stephanie thought about that. “Well, today’s Thursday. Hopefully we can catch him tonight.”

  “Good luck,” Jeanne said.

  “Thanks.”

  Have you fed yet? Unfortunately, Stephanie already knew the answer to that question.

  

  She didn’t go the night without feeding, but she found no humans. Thanks to her speed and agility, she caught a few strays- cats and dogs mostly- and fed on them. The blood was nourishing enough, but it left a hole in the pit of her stomach, like taking an aspirin without eating. And she kept spitting out bits of fur as she drank. The first mangy cat she bit into, she actually threw up. That old movie poster lied. It wasn’t fun to be a vampire. It was miserable.

  Sarah didn’t know how the rest of them survived. How they found prey from night to night. Sarah supposed if she was forced to live this existence then she would have to learn from them. So now it was time for her to return to the pit, make friends, and become a good little student once again.

  

  He progressed slowly, methodically, as he followed her. Blake knew their sense of hearing was acute, and their sense of smell even better. These days he used no cologne, unscented soap and deodorant, and but the mildest of shampoos (and only during the morning) so most of the scent would be gone by nightfall. Blake stepped forward only when he was sure the girl wasn’t listening.

  If he so much as suspected she’d heard him (a momentary lifting of the head perhaps) he’d stop in his tracks and keep as still as possible. He only had to stop twice this night while she engaged in her ungodly feeding. While he felt terrible for the poor animals that she slaughtered and exsanguinated, he had much bigger fish to fry. Blake was hoping she would lead him to some of her vampire friends. Information gleaned from other vampires, just before killing them, told him that not all of them were living underground anymore. And the fact remained that this was the first vampire he’d encountered in over three months. Besides the bold attack several weeks ago the vamps were keeping a steady low profile. Even The Others were more sporadic in their attacks. The mayor’s little pow wow seemed to be something else entirely. It was the first major sign of vampire activity in over two years. Every once in a while he caught stragglers through his vigilance- though not as quickly or as easily as in the past, he did dispatch them, simply by waiting for the right moment.

  This girl he did not want to kill, and it wasn’t merely for intel, which he needed, because he knew something odd was afoot after the attack on the mayor’s little shindig. And it wasn’t just for what or whom she could lead him to, but Blake also felt that she was a victim, more so than others that he’d encountered previously. She clearly did not take to her new situation so quickly. She still struggled with her humanity. After decades of seeing their inhumanity, this girl, whose name he did not know was Sarah, struck a chord in him he could not entirely quell. For this reason, more than the act itself, he felt disgust at her bleeding of the strays. She’d been forced into this nightmare existence.

  Despite common lore vampires were not humans immediately turned into soulless creatures. They eventually became so. It was a condition there was no cure for, except to kill them for good, or find and kill their maker before they fed. For this one, it was already too late.

  

  While the night Blake shadowed Sarah only lead

  back to the pit where he could not follow, the following night lead Sarah straight back to him.

  He was seated at his usual booth at the Dizzy Diva, when he saw her glide across the room again. Fulton Blake raised his head in surprise.

  She sat across from him, saying nothing, merely staring into the shadows that concealed him.

  “What do you want?” Blake said, with no real malice, but with a note of bitterness. The weariness behind the question was more apparent.

  “Help me,” she said.

  “Help you what?”

  “Help... me,” she pleaded.

  “I can’t,” Blake said. “There is no help for you.”

  “Then kill me.”

  “What?” Blake’s voice quivered. He had no idea he could still have sympathy for these creatures. Perhaps she made him think of his daughter.

  “Kill me,” Sarah said. “I can’t fight it anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

  Blake knew there was no other way. It would come to that eventually. At least she was choosing to die. Resigned, Blake said, “All right.”

  The bright beam of a smile on her face was the saddest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Out back, behind the bar there’s a dark alley. I’ll make it quick.” He stood up, and followed her out.

  “Thank you, thank you so much,” Sarah said gleefully.

  “This isn’t an occasion for joy, as much as you might think so.”

  She sobered up. “I just want it to end.”

  “I know,” Blake replied.

  Outside, in the garbage strewn alley, she waited.

  “I’m scared,” Sarah said.

  “I know that too.”

  He pulled the stake out from underneath his coat. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked.

  “No,” she admitted. “I have to.”

  Blake understood. “That’s quite possibly the most admirable thing I’ve ever heard a vampire say.”

  There was just a shade of a grin on her face. “Do it.”

  Blake raised the stake. “I’ll pray for your soul.”

  “No!” someone screamed, “Please don’t!”

  Sarah turned. “Stephanie?”

  Her friend Stephanie and her new friend Gwen were rushing toward them. Gwen was several feet behind her, keeping safe.

  “Don’t kill her mister,” Stephanie said.

  Blake still held the stake in mid-air. Ready to plunge down, his face grim and determined, it now sagged and floundered.

  “The lady asked me to...” Blake started. “Do you know what she is?”

  “Yes,” Stephanie said. “And I also know she’s my friend. There has to be another way.”

  The words nearly brought Sarah to tears. “But I could have killed you the other night. Please let me die while I still have a conscience to feel guilt over it.”

  Stephanie rushed over and hugged her fiercely. Sarah embraced her in return. Her skin smelled like meat, the rush of blood in Stephanie’s neck pulsed in her ear.

  “I have to let you go now,” Sarah said. She remembered herself dying now, slowly, as her creator drained her and then filled her with his own blood.

  Stephanie backed away.

  Sarah looked at her longingly. “You can’t kill what’s already dead. I’m sorry.” With a speed and surprise he hadn’t anticipated, Sarah snatched the wooden stake from Blake’s hands in both of hers, grabbing it by the base and jabbing the wickedly pointed end into h
er own heart.

  “Nooooooooo!!” Stephanie screamed.

  Blood bubbled up through her shirt and flowed from her mouth. Sarah fell backward to the ground as the light in her eyes dimmed.

  Stephanie rushed to her side, kneeling next to her fallen body. It began to rain.

  “Sarah, no.”

  Sarah, Blake thought. It was a good name. He hadn’t even known her name. She had been just another random vampire. But she had a name, and people that loved her. He stood in the rain and watched them as the water washed away the blood and the tears, leaving only the sadness behind.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MOONLIGHT SERENADE

  Ben snuck through the gate he’d seen the slaughtered teen go through not so long ago, his only weapon a butcher knife, and a silver Saint Christopher’s medallion on a silver chain he’d found in a drawer. His mother had given it to him ten years ago, and he hadn’t worn it since then.

  Twilight upon him, he wiped the sweat from his brow, proceeding carefully, listening for any sudden sounds. He jumped several times when squirrels darted about in the brush, or birds suddenly broke into flight. The moon was already visible, and though he didn’t feel the change coming on, when he looked up it seemed to hold him there, calling to him, singing to him.

  Apparently he didn’t need to see the moon for it to work its magic, as he was indoors the night before. And he’d been at work after ten, when it was already present. Perhaps he would only change at midnight, when the moon was at its fullest, and that would only be once a month. If he didn’t change, and if the beast that attacked him didn’t change, how would he find it, and would he be ready for it if it came? With knife tucked into his belt, and medallion around his neck, plodding along, he felt completely unprepared for whatever might arise, although his body was still overflowing with energy.

  He tore his gaze away from the disc in the sky. Moon madness is real, he thought. Benjamin Caldwell was prepared to kill or be killed. He hoped that no one innocent would have to die.