The Wiccan Diaries

  It was over before it had even begun. Marek and Lennox were the only two vampires left. Where the other three had gone, I didn’t know. But, when I could finally see him, Marek seemed happy about something. Which must’ve meant he and Lennox had won.

  The man with the microphone dropped it. “I didn’t do anything,” he said.

  “He’s one of them,” said Marek. “We are not in Rome, Lennox.”

  “Not technically,” said Lennox.

  “So he’s mine.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean no? They were going to sire a roomful of people. I know how you feel about us, but even you have to admit we serve some purpose,” he said.

  “I won’t kill him while he lives,” said Lennox, “and while we may not be in Rome, we’re close enough, that it’s my call. Understand? What’s your name?” he said to the guy whose life they were debating.

  “G-G-Galaxy, m-m-man.”

  “Your name is Galaxy?”

  “If you want, man, I’ll take you to the stars.” He dug inside his pockets and held out a handful of drugs. “T-t-take it, man. It’s yours. Just don’t kill me, all right?”

  “Are there any others... like us, around here, Galaxy?”

  “You got ’em, man. Good job, ’cause they were gonna make me do what they say, and I’m a pacifist, man.”

  “Please go away,” said Lennox.

  Galaxy tried to palm the drugs. “Leave those. But go. And if I hear you’ve told...”

  “I won’t, man. This was all some crazy trip. Swear.”

  He left.

  * * *

  I think the sign fell off the glass.

  Lennox and Marek came back downstairs and took a look around Club Change. When Lennox smiled I saw that his incisors were elongated; I didn’t think he had ever smiled in my presence before. It made me question everything.

  Now that I knew what he was, I didn’t think he would still be interested in me. I mean, who was I?

  He came over to me finally, and said, “Halsey, are you all right?”

  “I––I think so,” I said, finding it difficult to breathe around him. He was a vampire, after all. I needed my diary. “When? How? What?”

  “I’ll explain it in the car.”

  “You drove here? Can’t you just fly? Why didn’t you tell me?” I felt hurt. Betrayed.

  “How will we get the bikes back?” asked Marek.

  Lennox shrugged. “I’m taking Halsey home. Ballard, you are free to join us, if... if you want to.”

  “I have my scooter,” said Ballard. “I don’t want to just leave it here.”

  “I’ll take the other one,” said Marek, although what he would look like with his huge body on my Vespa... I didn’t know.

  “Escort Ballard back, will you?” said Lennox.

  “You got it,” said Marek.

  “Come on,” said Lennox. He lifted me out of the glass, before putting me back down again. I tossed the key to my Vespa to Marek, who snatched it out of the air. He winked again.

  I left them there. I could see Ballard pretending to be nonchalant, but really! Vampires....

  * * *

  Lennox had a set of car keys in his hand. He pressed them and I heard a beep go off. “That’s your car?” It looked scarier than he did.

  “They really intended to change all of us, didn’t they?” I said, as he opened the door for me. Instinctively, I knew the club had been a ‘recruiting depot.’

  “Yes,” he said.

  I got in the car––it was huge and black and the seats were on the floorboards––bits of chrome were everywhere. I think the speedometer went up to bagillion.

  Lennox got in. He closed the door, throwing us into darkness. All I heard was myself, breathing heavily. It made me self-conscious.

  He was entirely silent.

  “So I guess that explains the mystery of how you keep getting up to my balcony and I can’t hear you,” I said, trying to break the supernatural ice. His eyes glinted, dangerously.

  Through the windshield I saw Marek and Ballard take off. Everyone had fled before them––these two vampires, Marek and Lennox. All the BMWs and Mercedes-Benzes were gone now. Their occupants with stories to tell, or not to tell.

  “Do people know?” I said. “About you?”

  He started the engine; I think it roared in lieu of him. “You’re not angry, are you?”

  “Furious,” he said.

  “I don’t care if you’re a vampire,” I said. He growled.

  Marek looked every bit as foolish as I thought he would, riding on my orange Vespa. “We may as well stay behind them,” said Lennox.

  “It was you,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Behind us, when we were coming here.”

  “I had to see that you didn’t get hurt,” said Lennox, accelerating to catch up with them.

  “So is Marek your friend?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “What?” I said.

  “Look. Can we change the subject?” said Lennox.

  “What if I don’t want to change the subject? Vampires. I mean. Wow.”

  “You sound like one of them,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Those nutters who think it’s cool,” said Lennox.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “I didn’t mean that,” he said, apologizing. “It’s just, you saw them. You find it in the rich, especially. They think because they have money, they can buy immortality. Like it’s some gift, like a credit card with no spending limit that lasts forever and they never have to pay off.”

  “Isn’t it?” I said.

  “No,” said Lennox.

  Ballard looked behind at us; I waved but I don’t think he saw me. “If you’re so against vampires,” I said, “why did you ever consent to become one? Surely, you chose this life.”

  “Hardly,” he said.

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “Do you mind if we don’t play Twenty Questions?” said Lennox. “Let me just get you back to your place. Tonight was nearly a disaster.”

  “You mean because we almost got turned,” I said.

  “Stop talking about it like it’s some glib lifestyle like turned and all that.”

  “Marek said ‘sire’,” I said. “Are you a sire? Have you ever sired anyone?”

  “There you go again,” he said.

  “It’s a lot to think about. I want to get a start on it. So––well––we can be together,” I said, “if that’s what you want.”

  “Halsey...” But he didn’t say anything more.

  “I think I knew,” I said, as we got onto the A1. I looked at the clock. Still enough time before sunrise. I had a million questions to ask.

  “Knew what?” he said. “That I was––? That I am––?”

  “No. Not that,” I said. “You hid that well. I just knew––that something... I mean, vampires... It’s a lot to think about. When Ballard and I figured out the symbol and to Club Change,” I said, my mind all over the place, “But then...”

  I shook my head. “I mean, I knew that it meant something. That symbol––”

  “That symbol,” said Lennox, “nearly got you killed. If they were any kind of vampires, they would know it meant more than what they said it meant. It means vampire, yes, but it’s also a warning to vampires: Do not overstep your bounds, and so on, otherwise you’ll be obliterated. And I am overstepping my bounds.”

  “If they sired me,” I said, enjoying the language despite his censure, “what would you have done?” I asked.

  “Killed you.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” he said.

  “That’s not very nice, Lennox.” I put my lip out in a pout.

  “Neither would have been what you would have become, if I had not gotten to you in time, Halsey.”

  “And what would that have been?” I asked. “Some bloodsucking fiend, all that?”

  “In a word.”


  “You and Marek are sweeties, though.”

  He nearly went off the road. “I am not a sweetie,” he said.

  I stuck out my tongue at him. “I say you are.”

  “You are so...”

  “Uncontrollable? Impulsive? Delicious?”

  “Stop that.”

  “You know, if we die in an accident, I shall be cross at you,” I said. “But it does make twice, now, that you have saved my life. I should think you care about me, Lennox.”

  “I do,” he said.

  “People who care, share.”

  “Really? That’s your move? People who share, care.”

  “And vice versa.”

  “No, thank you,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t feel like going into my disease.”

  He was being rather hard on himself. I told him so. “I don’t think heroes should have to berate themselves for being heroic,” I said. “It’s obvious you’re a good person. You probably don’t even kill people.”

  “Really. That’s enough,” he said.

  “Although, I do have one question,” I said.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  I got out my copy of the Codex––I didn’t think Ballard would mind, even though I swore not to include anyone else––and flipped to the page on symbols. “This here,” I said, showing him. It was the symbol that looked like the trefoil, except it had four leaves, a quatrefoil, I realized, like a four-leaf clover. Maybe Lennox was my lucky charm.

  “It’s the symbol for a coven,” said Lennox, “of vampires. Not... well...”

  “What?” I said.

  “It’s nothing. See, instead of one––a vampire––as is this symbol here––”

  “This symbol––” He pointed––

  “––is the sign for many, a coven of vampires. It’s simple enough.”

  “Hum,” I said. “So it is.” I put it away. He looked where it went, in my bag.

  Marek and Ballard had their Vespas opened full-throttle. I think I loved them.

  “So where were we?” I asked.

  “I’m a vampire. You’re not,” he said.

  “Well, at least you’re smiling. Before it was like you were hiding things. Now I know all of your little secrets.”

  “I doubt that,” he said. “And being a vampire isn’t a little secret.”

  “Enlighten me, then.”

  “Maybe some other time.”

  I was going to take him up on his offer, whether he knew it or not. Now, in fact.

  “If vampires are supposed to be descended from what that story said, which is Evil,” I said, referring to the light show, “how come you keep saving me?”

  He got a contemplative look. “I don’t know,” said Lennox. “We’re not supposed to. The first rule is not to interfere. Primum non nocere; ‘first, do no harm.’ Stay out of the way. Don’t let them notice you. People, I mean. You keep getting drawn in to things... You shouldn’t be.” He emphasized the last three words––it was almost like two separate sentences. “I want to be good,” he said, gripping the steering wheel.

  “So I got you to admit that, at least,” I said.

  “What?”

  “That you’re good. If you were evil, Lennox, you wouldn’t keep an eye on me.”

  “If I were evil, that’s exactly what I would do!” he said.

  “I just realized something,” I said.

  “And that is?”

  “Well, you’re a vampire, right, immortal? Don’t you need, like, permission, before you storm into a place and save a bunch of people?”

  “Usually,” he said, “I need an invite. Otherwise, humans wouldn’t be safe anywhere. But that was a public place. Run by vampires. When it’s a vampire, you don’t need an invite.”

  I suddenly wanted to know all the rules. About garlic and mirrors and stakes through the heart. And a part of me wondered what my parents were doing with a book about vampires. “So is bloodsuckers an offensive term?” I asked, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

  “Actually, it’s a pretty fair assessment,” he said. “How do you think we ‘live?’”

  “If you’re trying to warn me, it won’t work.”

  “I’m beginning to grasp that,” he said.

  Something occurred to me. “You let that man go and Marek was against it. Has anyone ever, you know, found out about vampires?”

  “Just Hollywood,” he said. He looked over at me and laughed. I wanted to kiss him. “Anybody else, and we kill them.” I shivered, involuntarily.

  “And can, you know, you hear the beating of my heart and stuff?”

  “Some people we have need of, and they are ‘brought in’,” said Lennox, “but we watch them afterwards for signs that they may betray our secret, then we kill them, if they do.”

  “Right. So no betrayal,” I said. “What do vampires do with immortality, anyway?”

  “Mostly we guard against outsiders finding out about us, including cover-ups.”

  “What do you mean? Wait, you guys didn’t kill Kennedy, did you?”

  “No,” he said, laughing again: it was a brutal sonata. “Again, we do not interfere. The human world is not our world. We expect the same courtesy from those mortals who would attempt to know us, to seek us out.”

  “What happens if they do... know you?” I said.

  The biblical connotation was not lost on either one of us. He thought a bit.

  “I suppose it’s like Roswell,” he said. “We are like the modern day equivalent of an alien invasion, except in our case, we really are among you. You just don’t know about it yet. So long as there is a fringe, humans will insist it be lunatic. Tales of vampires, for the most part, are not taken seriously.”

  “I can’t get into trouble, if I know about you, can I?” I asked.

  “We’re almost there,” he said.

  “No. Answer me.”

  “It’s a distinct possibility,” he said.

  I thought about that. “And Ballard?”

  “Him I wouldn’t worry about,” said Lennox.

  “Why not?”

  “Ask him.”

  We were arriving back in Rome. I had only minutes left. Lennox broke from them. I looked to my left and saw Ballard and Marek swing off. “Where’s Marek going with my bike?” I asked.

  “He’s taking it to my place.”

  My eyes lit up.

  “How will I get it? Will I see you tomorrow? I want you to come up.”

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “Nonsense. I invite you.”

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “I will show you everything tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Dear Diary,

  Lennox is a vampire and I can be killed for saying that. I have just made you my accomplice in crime, Diary. To think of the self-control; he must abstain worse than I do. I wonder if there is a St. Martley’s for the pale. If he gets sired... And he sires... and his sired sire a bunch more who sire––the world would be overrun with sirers. Sireously.

  I have so many things I want to ask him....

  Lennox

  It was the perfect opportunity; I passed Marek, who nodded imperceptibly. Trastevere was the therian’s bailiwick. We avoided it at all costs. Particularly since it would lead to war, if we did not. I wasn’t sure how well vampires would fare in that endeavor.

  “I want you and Ballard to come over to my place tomorrow,” I said.

  She nodded, lost in her thoughts. “I’ll send him an e-mail,” she said. “Although, it would be nice to know where you lived first.”

  “It’s close. Just across the water from him.”

  That wasn’t a coincidence. Perhaps they could help me work on this problem together––like our own little United Nations. I told her where it was at.

  I was disturbed more than I could say by the fiasco at the club, particularly since the three vampires Marek and I had dispatched seemed to have a working knowledge of the rift between Par
is and Rome. That wasn’t supposed to be known by their kind. By the vampers, that was; I felt myself falling more and more into step with the guardians of the supernatural underworld, the Lenoir, who had tasked me with policing this place. At the same time, I didn’t want to be associated with them. Not if it meant more killing. I had too much blood on my hands already.

  “...it’s like Roswell,” I said.

  Human beings, in their endless creativity, had managed to talk themselves out of our existence, even to forget us.

  It was remarkable how quick they were to explain away these recent spate of killings as the work of just some serial killer.

  That was typical and one of our best insurance policies against human beings finding out about us. It also happened to save their lives. Not knowing about us saved their lives. Nobody knew just how many vampires there were, or what we would do to them, if they ever found out.

  Marek had been sent.

  Whatever else, he had been sent.

  I needed to remember that about him. He was an agent of the Lenoir, with a duty to report back to them.

  “You know why I’m here,” he said to me, earlier tonight, when he knocked on my door.

  The Lenoir were not to have moved until speaking with Occam. Instead, they sent Marek, who had a short fuse. I had to admit, though, with his help, the two of us could probably stop this boker and his zombies, while containing the spread of the contagion.

  Marek was a good vampire. He was not in. But he was a good vampire. The Lenoir were wise to send him. But I didn’t have to like it.

  Chapter 15 – Halsey

  Becca wanted to know about how things were going. “You know how you can get halfway to something, and never touch it? And get halfway again, and never touch it? When all you have to do is reach out your hand?” I said, via e-mail.

  Lennox had extended friendship, and also something else. Acceptance. Acceptance that I could know his secret without him having to worry about me blabbing it around everywhere. Now I just wanted to be close to him so I could reach out my hand.

  I didn’t have long to wait. I e-mailed Ballard Lennox’s address in Campo de’ Fiori. It truly was across the water. I couldn’t wait to see it. Just one more thing I was going to get to know about Lennox. I treated each little confession on his part as a sacrifice he made just for me. Ballard responded nonchalantly: “Okay. But we need to be careful. Okay?”