Double Take, A.J. Cole [i want to read a book .txt] 📗

room went red. Not dark, not murky, but red.

“You will hold your peace!” Vlad bellowed, lowering his arms. “You who are undead shall cease your clamor, or you shall join the ranks of the unliving!”

Silence.

Beside Kyria, Gaylord began to sputter. “And just who in hell do you think you are, you irritating little Vam…”

Since talking is impossible when one becomes a standing flash-fire, Gaylord never did finish that sentence. A moment later, the column of white-blue flame imploded and with a sucking sound, was gone. All that remained was a scorch mark in the shape of two shoe prints.

Vlad crossed his arms and looked around, the sheer terror on the faces of his “family” exaggerated by the light that was painting them all crimson. “Listen well,” he hissed.

They nodded.

“Change can come slowly or suddenly. I tried to keep things happening at a pace more easily accepted, but instead of reason, you used emotion. Instead of discourse, you used discord, and now you must accept that which should have taken a longer time to occur.” He turned to face Kyria, who was standing stiff as a pole, her eyes bugged out a bit. “You.” He pointed a finger at her. “You have forgotten how you became Queen, and who put you in that position. You have forgotten that your power is minimal compared to that of the one who raised you to your throne. Had you remembered, your reign would have continued for many more decades, perhaps even centuries. But now it is over.”

She started to speak, but Vlad pointed next to the horrific evidence of the last being who had interrupted him and she swallowed, bowing her head.

“We must continue to grow and change, or we will atrophy and fade away. Our society consists of the undead, the near-dead, and the half-dead. We must include another race to keep us viable – the immortals. A vampire, as you know and have just seen, can be killed. So can a werewolf, a werepire, a skin-walker, and all of the off-world species. The immortals, however, cannot. Among them are the Sidhe. Like us, they have evolved, grown, changed, become less angry, less violent. And among them are those who seek alliances with beings who, like them, are not human. One of the most promising among them is Finn Murphy. Of our group, the most viable is Arissa Martin. When she told me she was attracted to him, I realized it was time to start the change.”

In a tiny voice, Kyria said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did, and you told me I’d lived too long, that I was going insane.”

“No, I mean, why didn’t you explain all this when you casually mentioned how you’d suggested to Arissa that she date this creature?” Kyria was on the verge of forgetting herself, her voice having risen.

Vlad seethed at her and she backed off. “Do not question me, Kyria. Not ever again.” He turned back to the quivering crowd and raised his arms once more.

A collective gasp of fear filled the room and Vlad nearly lost it. They sounded like a Vaudeville act, for heavens’ sake! He compressed his lips, forcing himself to stay serious – this wasn’t funny, after all. “We are the children of death, but not its slaves!” he intoned. “We are death-life! And we must go on, we must see our purpose, we must fulfill it! And what is our purpose, my children?”

“To help mankind enjoy life, accept death, and grow into peace!” The response had been automatic, one they had all been taught at some point in their non-lives – or at least most of them had.

“And what do we require in return?” Vlad intoned.

“Blood-breath and nothing more!”

“These are the words and the understanding and the wisdom of your first true king, Samuel. Take them to heart and live them fully.” He lowered his arms, the room went dark for a split second, followed by the regular lights flickering back on, and Vlad was once again his old, familiar self, his eyes their regular color. “Now clean up this mess, please,” he said, nodding at the broken bottles and blood. “We have to be out of here in – ” he lifted his left wrist and consulted his watch, “ – twenty minutes. Kyria, kindly close the meeting, then meet me at my loft. We have things to discuss.”

When he was gone, the only sounds in the previously raucous room were the ones made by brooms, rags, and shattered glass.

 

*******

 

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock.

            Arissa groaned and opened one eye. She was staring at another eye. A deep blue one. “You’re not my clock,” she murmured.

            Knock-knock-knock-knock…

            Taking a deep, quick, angry breath, she leaped out of bed and zoomed to the door, fully expecting it to be her mother, and ready to blast her for sounding like a woodpecker this early in the morning.

            It wasn’t her mother.

            “Hello, Arissa. You, er, you’re not… ” Kyria cleared her throat, blushed, and turned away.

            She can blush?! “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?”

            “To talk to you – could you put some clothing on, please?”

            “You sound like my mother. What’s so important that you had to bang on my door like that?”

Kyria nodded. “You’re right. That was uncalled for. But this isn’t easy and I’d like to… to… ”

“To what? Get it over with? Get what over with? Are you revoking my werepire card or something?”

“Oh, for the love of – may I please come in, and will you please put something on!”

“Huh. Sure.” She stepped back, wondering how the VP and Mrs. Martin would get along. “Er, go have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

As Kyria perched on the edge of the sofa, probably because there were several piles of laundry on it and the edge was the only available spot, Arissa went back to her room and climbed onto the bed, straddling Finn. “Wake up, faery-boy.”

His eyes had already been open, and he gave her a huge grin before reaching up and tickling her sides.

“Ack! Stop it! You brat!” She tickled him back, making him jump and nearly fling her off onto the floor.

Laughing, eyes filled with happiness, he slid up to a sitting position as she got off. “What’s up, my werewoman?”

“We have company.”

“Your mother?” His smile faded.

“No, but almost as bad. The real-life Queen of the Damned.”

He frowned. “Huh? You mean the woman you and that vampire were talking about last night? The one who went all self-righteous on you?”

“That’s the one.” She was at the closet, looking for something clean. Aha! Dress. Green with little purple flowers, it was a sleeveless shift that she hadn’t worn for a while, but liked a lot because of the way it flowed around her curves.

“What’s she want?”

“For me to get dressed.” Arissa giggled and pulled the dress over her head.

“Hey, where’s your decency, girl? You’ve no underthings on!”

“So? Besides, once she’s gone… ” She waggled her brows at him in an exaggerated leer.

“May I meet her?” Finn got out of bed and stretched.

“Oh, lord, don’t do that – I’ll never leave this room.” She stared with deep appreciation at every inch of him and sighed.

“Ah, well, I suppose I could go out there like this, then.”

Arissa shook her head, bent down and picked up his jeans that he’d left where he’d stepped out of them the night before. She tossed them at him and said, “Not on your life. She might decide you’re as awesome as I think you are.”

“As if I’d want anything to do with anyone other than you, lovely Arissa.”

She put her fists on her hips. “Dude. Like flattery works on me.”

“I know.” He pulled on the jeans. “That’s why I’m still around, sweetheart. You aren’t fooled by my glib Irish tongue.”

“Speaking of your Irish tongue,” she said, her voice almost a purr.

“Now, now, Arissa darlin’ – we have a vampiress to deal with. There’s time enough for that later.”

“Crap. Fine. Let’s go.”

As she came out into the living room, Kyria sat straighter and was about to speak, but then Finn entered, put an arm around Arissa’s shoulders, and the woman closed her mouth, going into an uncharacteristic slouch.

“Kyria, this is Finn. I think it’s about time you met him.”

The Sidhe stared long and hard at Kyria, eyes narrowed, but said nothing.

“Coffee, anyone?” Arissa raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, sure,” Finn said, taking a seat opposite the vampire.

“None for me, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Arissa went off into the kitchen, wondering what would happen while she was gone, and hoping she wouldn’t return to find an exploded vampire and a nutbag fae cluttering up her apartment.

Over the sounds of water gurgling in the guts of her coffee maker, the voices in the other room were audible but the words indistinguishable. No matter, she told herself, not bothering to focus harder in order to make out what they were saying. Finn was Finn, and Kyria was – what was Kyria doing here? She hadn’t looked like she was on the verge of committing murder, and in fact had exhibit a subdued demeanor Arissa couldn’t explain.

The fragrant brew finished brewing, so she filled two large mugs and went to the fridge. Both she and Finn like their coffee with cream and a ton of sugar… could Kyria be here to tell Arissa she was no longer allowed to attend the meetings? No, there had been no determined lift to the woman’s chin, an arrogant behavior the woman had been known to exhibit right before delivering a rebuke of one sort or another.

Taking a sip from her mug, Arissa grabbed the other one and went back out into the living room.

“…must have been given bad information.” Kyria was speaking, her expression was one of icy embarrassment. Or that was how Arissa interpreted the vampire’s averted gaze and stern look.

“Yes, I would expect so.” Finn took the mug Arissa was offering and gestured for her to sit beside him. He had removed the notebook, three pens, two candy wrappers and five textbooks that had been inhabiting its surface.

She sat, took another sip, and leaned forward. “Kyria, why did you come here?”

The vampire drew herself up and riveted her glittery gaze on Arissa’s oval pupils. “I came here to apologize. My behavior last night was… was abominable, rude, and unnecessary. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry Arissa. And now that I’ve met Finn, I can understand your, er, attraction, as well as see for myself that he’s nothing like what I’d been led to believe the Sidhe were like.” She stood, the movement abrupt and like a physical interpretation of the words “I’ve done what I came to do, and now I’m going.”

Arissa also stood. “Thank you Kyria. Look – may I be honest with you?”

“When have you ever not been honest, my dear?”

“Hmm. True. All right. When I first met you, you totally freaked me out. Probably because of all the weirdness about me being chomped on and then bitten, and then killed and resurrected as a semi-dead whatever, not to mention the strange notes and never having even believed in vampires and all that before, and… I’m babbling. Sorry. What I’m trying to say is that even though I’ve disagreed with some of the things you’ve said, I’ve always respected you. You’re like my undead godmother, if that makes any sense. If you had come here to kick me out of the group, the only thing that would have really bothered me would have been losing you. There. I’ve said it. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a pain in the ass.” Behind her, she could feel Finn staring, but would ask him why later.

Kyria, meanwhile, had put her head to one side, frowning, but then she came closer and pulled Arissa into a hug that, far from feeling dangerous, felt warm and genuine.

Really? Do I actually mean something to her?

“My sweet, dearest Arissa,” Kyria whispered, pulling back and looking deep into the girl’s eyes. “I never wanted children of my own, and still don’t,