Sucked In

Chapter Six

  “Where's Mikhail?” Josh snapped, ignoring the man’s question.

  The man didn't hesitate, but pointed toward the intricate double doors, his brows furrowed in confusion. Josh stormed down the hallway, and I did my best to keep up. He took my wrist, pushed the nearest door open, and entered the room. Again, my expectations fell short.

  The entire room was arranged like a furniture store that catered to the modern shopper. Matching couches, with straight lines and harsh corners, were bunched into small living room sets, including coffee tables and end tables of all shapes and sizes. The walls were covered in entertainment centers, symmetrical bookcases, and the occasional fireplace. Modern art, conveying no meaning whatsoever, beckoned the eye not to notice the lack of windows. Well-dressed individuals sat in conversation, drinking from crystal glasses.

  In contrast to the ultra-modern look, classical music played softly in the background and two enormous, antique grand pianos sat in the back corners surrounded by special seating for those who chose to listen to the performers. Just to the left and right of the door stood two matching pool tables. The one to the left was in use.

  A young man, barely out of adolescence, leaned over the edge of the table and tapped a ball into the corner pocket. His curly hair hung down past his ears and hid his face. “What happened?” he asked without turning to look at us. Was he psychic?

  “We were attacked, sir.”

  I glanced back and forth between the bloodstained Josh and the younger man. There was something between them I wasn't catching. Josh stood stock still, his shoulders pulled back, as though he were a cadet being inspected by his commanding officer.

  “Clearly,” sighed the teenager. He turned to look at us, leaning his backside against the edge of the table while idly picking up his glass and sipping an amber-colored liquid. I doubted he was old enough to drink alcohol. I had to remind myself that age could be deceptive with vampires, and after seeing a man turn to dust, I couldn't really doubt their existence anymore.

  Though I wanted to doubt. I wanted to very badly.

  “A man from Richard's seethe ambushed us, demanding I give him Ashley.”

  “Ashley?” asked the youth, glancing at me for the first time. I was starting to get annoyed. Being ignorant wasn't pleasant. And having a teenager eye me with disdain was even worse. “So this is the stray?”

  I bristled at his words. Stray?

  “This is Ashley Hawn. Ashley, this is Mikhail Bartrey, my primus,” he added, emphasizing the title in a not-so-subtle hint. “Isaac Wilson changed her, but abandoned her.”

  “Isaac huh? And now a man attacked you, broke your nose, and demanded her back?”

  Josh nodded.

  “It seems, little Josh, you have managed to stumble into a complete mess,” growled the youth while he dropped his pool cue onto the table, the movement disrupting most of the remaining balls.

  Josh nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground.

  “And what makes you so special?” Mikhail asked, his bright eyes searching me with interest.

  I shrugged and glared defiantly at him. I was hungry, confused, and annoyed; such emotions never brought out the best in me. Mikhail cocked an eyebrow at me, not backing down despite my ferocious glare, which has frightened puppies and babies alike.

  “I've never heard of Isaac siring anyone, much less doing so and leaving them,” commented Mikhail before taking a sip of his drink. He seemed determined to ignore my insolence. That just annoyed me more. I'm like one of those brat children that act out for attention. Not very mature, I know.

  “Something must have scared him off?” suggested Josh.

  I tried to think back to the attack, but I couldn't remember anything useful.

  “Wait! What's siring?” I demanded.

  “Shhh,” hissed Josh.

  “Oh shhh yourself,” I snapped, tired of being in the dark. All the rules that held my reality together had changed, crumbled. I had to know the new rules.

  “Your sire is the vampire who turned you. Now be quiet,” ordered Mikhail.

  I glared at him, unable to think of anything worth saying in response.

  “What would scare off Isaac?” Mikhail asked.

  Josh's eyes widened at the thought. Evidently, the answer was something really big and nasty. It was hard to believe, I thought as I remembered the pain of his attack. Mikhail nodded at Josh's silent response.

  “I think the bigger question is 'why would Isaac turn her in the first place,'” said Josh.

  Mikhail took another sip of his liquid, the wheels in his head clearly turning. The silence dragged on, though the others in the large room continued to talk in subdued voices. I glanced at Josh, who was still eying Mikhail. I was about to say something, anything, when Nikolai, the man in the fancy suit, stepped forward from the other side of the pool table. I hadn’t even noticed him standing there.

  “It seems the best solution would be to kill her and be done with it,” he said.

  “Excuse me?” I snapped, appalled.

  Josh stepped forward and grabbed my arm, but I shook him off as I marched right up to the tall man. When someone is more than a foot taller than you, it's not wise to pick a fight. What can I say; I'm not very wise.

  “You just wanna whack me for your convenience?”

  “If your life is a threat to this seethe, then yes,” Nikolai said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Without thinking, I pulled back my arm and swung at his face. I didn't even get halfway through the swing before he had me pinned to the pool table, the cue ball digging painfully into my cheek. “Not a good idea,” he whispered in my ear, a faint hint of a Russian accent leaking through.

  “Let her up, Nikolai,” Mikhail ordered in a calm voice. “She'll learn.”

  After a few seconds of hesitation, the suit let me up. I shrugged him off and stomped a few steps away. A new, more intense silence settled over us. I slowly realized the other conversations had ceased as well. Only the music filled the uncomfortable stillness.

  “You aren't going to kill her, are you Mikhail?” Josh asked in a humble, yet plaintive voice.

  “Have you taken a liking to her?” scoffed Nikolai. I glared at him from a safe distance. Would it be so shocking if Josh did like me? I was likable!

  “It isn't fair. She shouldn't have to die for our safety. It is not her actions that threaten us. Besides, do we really want to do that without knowing what Isaac wanted with her?” Josh asked. That seemed to sink in. Mikhail eyed me, his wheels turning again.

  “We'll keep her for now,” announced Mikhail after a few seconds consideration. “And she'll be under your protection, Nik.”

  “What? Why me?”

  “This is more than Josh can handle. He's young and inexperienced. What would happen if he went up against Isaac?”

  “No, no, no,” I interrupted. “He'll just leave me on Isaac's doorstep, or worse, kill me himself!” I added, waving toward Nikolai.

  Mikhail smiled. “Nikolai will do no such thing.”

  I glared at Nikolai, but he was already eying me like a bug to be squashed.

  “What about my work?” I heard myself pleading. “I have rent to pay and I'm already behind. I have to work the day after tomorrow.” I was grasping at straws; anything to get away from this handsome man who wanted to kill me.

  “Kinda missing the point Ashley,” murmured Josh through his closed teeth. Clearly, he didn’t like me arguing with his master.

  “I don’t care about his point,” I snapped back, equally irritated. “My point is not becoming homeless.” My annoyance was increasing tenfold. When I went out on a date last night, I hadn't planned on getting involved in a mystical war. Or was it more of a police action, like Vietnam?

  Hell if I knew. I didn't understand anything about anything!

  “What about staying alive? You seemed pretty interested in that,” said the tall man in an annoyingly smug voice. I shot him a dirty look, which he ignored by tak
ing a sip of his drink.

  “Enough,” commanded Mikhail, his voice displaying his own Russian heritage. “Ashley, we will make sure that you do not lose your apartment. Nik, take her to your place. Let her get acclimated to our lifestyle while I figure out what's going on.”

  Nikolai nodded and took me by the arm. He dragged me out the way Josh and I had entered through the nondescript side door. We crossed the street, my arm still in his hand, and stopped at an expensive looking car. He released me, flinging me at the passenger side door.

  “Get in,” Nikolai growled. I hesitated a moment. I didn’t want to exchange Josh’s company for that of a man who hated me.

  But a gust of wet wind had me scrambling for the door handle. I climbed in and admired the interior. It was better than thinking about the man sitting in the next seat. I didn't have a clue what kind of car it was, but I knew I was supposed to be impressed. The dashboard was coated in a fine, black leather, rather than made of plastic like most American cars. I settled into my bucket seat, feeling like my ass would scrape the pavement if we tried to go over a speed bump. Nikolai started the engine by pushing a button. It purred to life and the interior lights bathed us in a muted, blue glow.

  We drove through the dark for what seemed like an eternity. Evidently being a vampire didn't make me any more patient.

  Ugh… vampire.

  My mind revolted against the whole idea. It was just too insane! Never mind that I made my meager living providing this fantasy for others. There just weren’t people who never aged and were killed by the sun. And yet I had seen a man turn to dust.

  But vampires?

  Finally, when my mind couldn’t take any more thinking, we pulled into a long driveway lined with trees that were well on their way to being leafless. The driveway itself was at least a mile long. What sort of place was this?

  It turned out to be a mansion. Of course. He had the expensive suit and the nice car, so why not a mansion to top it off? Granted, he might have had centuries to acquire wealth. The building was white with many more windows than I would have expected in a vampire's home. As we got closer, I realized heavy drapery obscured my view of the inside.

  He led me up to the massive double doors, opened them, and ushered me in.

  “I thought vamps have to be invited in,” I said, unable to censure myself.

  “Yet more proof you know nothing about vampires, Miss Hawn,” he said, with forced politeness. It came out condescending and jerky. “Only to the houses of the living. You and I are technically dead.”

  That took me a moment to digest. Technically dead? What did that mean? I tried to wrap my brain around it but realized it would take more than just a few seconds to adjust to. Nikolai didn't give me time to finish my musings. He pushed me through the door.

  To my complete astonishment, an unnatural blond bounced forward. I suspected she was human. I didn't know why I thought that, but I did. My astonishment increased when she reached up and hugged Nikolai, pecking lightly him on the cheek.

  She was the type of middle-aged dish that probably had been Miss Wisconsin and still bragged about it. Her blonde hair framed her face in feathery disarray. She smiled at me, her eyes wrinkling with laugh lines emphasized by a layer or two of foundation. Miss Wisconsin was dressed in those fuzzy workout pants that clearly were not designed for working out and a matching zip-up sweatshirt.

  “Ashley Hawn, this is Shirley O'Brian.”

  I nodded toward her, not sure what else to do.

  “Are you thirsty, sweetheart?” she asked me.

  I glanced at Nikolai. Did she know what he was…? I mean what we were?

  “Yes, she knows. And yes, Miss Hawn is thirsty. Please bring her something to drink. We'll be in my study.”

  Had Nikolai read my mind? Or was the confusion that obvious on my face?

  The woman sauntered off, her still-shapely butt swaying with each step. Once she was gone, I was able to admire, or rather gawk at, his house. We stood in a wide entryway with enormous arched windows that reached from floor to ceiling. A winding staircase headed up to the second story and down to a basement, connecting with the foyer to my left. To my right was a swinging door, through which I had spotted signs of an enormous kitchen when Miss Wisconsin went to get my drink. Straight ahead lay a massive arch leading to what appeared to be a living room large enough to hold a royal ball.

  Nikolai took me by the arm and led me up the winding staircase, his grip rather tight. From the top, I looked down to see an intricate design in the marble flooring that I had not noticed before. If it had been an “X,” I would have made an Indiana Jones crack—something I doubted Nikolai would have understood. I would have killed for a staircase like this while growing up: to slide down the banister as a child, and to glide down in a prom dress as a teenager. The stairs stopped at a landing that extended into a long hallway before heading up to a third level. Nikolai took me to the first door on the second level.

  His study was the sort that one only sees in movies. The tall walls were completely lined with bookshelves. I even suspected there might be a doorway hidden behind one of the many shelves. Most of the racks held books that looked old, even ancient. One shelf held newer books—murder mysteries by the looks of them. The center of the room was dominated by an elegantly carved desk sitting on a rug, the design that could keep me entertained for hours. I wanted to laugh and say “Colonel Mustard, in the library, with the lead pipe!” But I kept the thought to myself. Nikolai sat at his desk and motioned me over to one of the leather couches.

  I hesitated a moment before plopping down on the one nearest his desk. It made an embarrassing farting noise as my jeans rubbed against the leather—which caused me to blush slightly. I held in my childish giggle. Before the silence could get too uncomfortable, or before I could finish tracing the patterns on his rug, a young man pushed the door open and bounced into the room, carrying a book, a binder, and a number two pencil. He went straight past the two couches, completely oblivious to my presence.

  “Nikolai, Shirley said you were back. I need help with my calc homework.”

  The vampire sighed and pointedly directed his eyes toward where I sat. “Dan, I am with someone.”

  The young student turned and eyed me for a second.

  “Hi,” he said, in a way that suggested he wanted to continue with “how you do'n.”

  I smiled back before glancing at Nikolai. Nikolai cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Dan.

  “Oh right. Sorry.” Dan scurried out.

  “So… what's with the humans?” I asked, the phrase coming out stilted since I wasn't used to the idea of not being human myself.

  “I don't want to talk about them.”

  I blinked. He was a grumpy one. I wanted to push, but Miss Wisconsin entered with my drink. She held out a tall glass with what appeared to be thick, red Kool-Aid or fruit punch. Neither of those sounded very good, but I was willing to drink it to be polite. The surprise came when I noticed the smell of the drink; it was much better than fruit punch. The smell made my breath come faster and my stomach dance a quick jig of excitement. Before I could take the glass from her hand, a couple different things happened. I'm not sure which came first, but I started to scream as my gums burned and pressure invaded my mouth. At about the same time, Nikolai bolted from his seat behind the desk and placed himself between me and the drink. In retrospect, I'm not sure if I was thinking of the glass or the human.

  I rolled off the couch, my hands pressed against my mouth, and landed near Nikolai's feet. Why did it hurt so badly? It felt like my wisdom teeth were coming in again, except this time it was in the front of my mouth and it was happening all at once, rather than over the course of years. I shrieked again as a new pain emerged. I felt as though I was swallowing the coarsest sandpaper ever invented. Fire erupted in my throat, searing what was left after the sandpaper had finished its work. I'm pretty sure I could have breathed flames at that point. My hands shifted to my thro
at as I continued to scream.

  Beyond my own noise making, I heard the door open and worried voices asking what was wrong. Suddenly the pain in my throat got worse. My unfamiliar, feverish desire heightened tenfold. Nikolai sent the visitors away immediately. No! my crazed mind screamed. Don't take it away!

  I jumped to my feet and lunged at the nearest human. Strong arms caught me around my waist and held me back. I jerked from side to side, trying vainly to break free of Nikolai’s grasp. He was strong, very strong, but I felt my own, newfound strength rising up in protest. Without thinking through my options, I jerked my head back and slammed it against his face.

  The shock of the move loosened his grip. I lunged forward as the remaining humans dashed out of the room, slamming the door in my face. I barreled straight into the solid, wooden fixture and fell in a heap on the floor. By this time, Nikolai had regained his composure, though his nose was broken and blood was pouring down his face. I grabbed the door handle and began hauling myself up when his arm slipped around my neck in a ferocious choke hold. He dragged me across the room, my cries of defiance silenced by the strong arm constricting my airway. The edge of my vision began to go black.

  “Stop it!” he sputtered as I continued to struggle. I felt Nikolai's flowing blood warm the back of my head. Gross!

  I attempted one last bid for freedom before darkness took me. I failed.