“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said.
“Yes, you can,” Noel said. “Just drink it fast.”
“Oh God,” I said.
“Do it.”
I put the teacup to my lips and tipped it back. The cold, iron-y liquid spilled into my mouth. I gulped it down and then gagged. But the blood coated my insides like dripping oil, radiating heat on the way down. And it was invigorating. The second mouthful was easier. It tasted nasty, but it felt so good and my body tingled. I felt hot inside but cool on the surface. There was only one thing I could compare the feeling to: growing up, when I had a cold, my mother would slather my chest with minty vapor rub; it was like having that balm everywhere.
“You want more?” Noel asked. He was holding a clear glass jug half-filled with blood.
I shook one last ruby droplet onto my tongue and then stared into the empty cup in amazement.
“Yes, please.”
After my second cup, Noel took me across the field to a brick garage topped with a gray chimney. He lit a lantern inside the door, illuminating the space.
“Welcome to my workshop,” he said.
Metal tools and instruments hung on the walls. Soot and ash blanketed every surface. Anvils, hammers, and water troughs were positioned around an open furnace. Noel walked around a pile of metal bits in the middle of the workshop and grabbed a handheld saw from a shelf.
“What do you do here?” I asked.
“I’m a swordsmith. I make weapons.”
He placed two stools in front of me and patted one of them. I sat down and rested my arms on the other.
“Noel,” I said, “I really like my hands, okay?”
His smile lengthened the crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve never used this thing before but how hard can it be? Just don’t move.”
The saw squealed and I turned away from the orange sparks. The manacle opened with a clatter.
“Zee, I hope you didn’t need your right hand,” Noel said.
“It’s okay. As long as I have the left.”
He broke open the left cuff a few seconds later. I rubbed my wrists. “Thank you.”
“Do you feel better?”
“Yes, much. Earlier, I felt like the walking dead,” I said. “I mean, well, you know.”
He laughed. “You just needed some sustenance. See? The blood wasn’t so bad.”
“Well, I’d still rather have a root beer but at least I’m not starving.”
“You’ll be starving again soon.”
“Will it always be like this?”
“The hunger is always there. But it abates with time. You’re young. Your body just needs the blood to grow strong.”
He returned the saw to its place on the packed shelf and a cloud of dust wafted up.
“Is it just the three of you here?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve intruded. Lucas seemed upset.”
“Don’t worry about him. He’s wary of strangers.”
“I guess it doesn’t get stranger than a barefoot schoolgirl in chains.”
He laughed.
“Jerome only joined us a few decades ago. We needed help with some extra work. His presence has really brightened Lucas’s spirits,” he said, pulling the stool under him so he could sit with me. “He was probably pretty sick of his old man’s company.”
“Have you been vampires for long?”
“More than six hundred years,” he said.
“Wow,” I said. “I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”
“One day, you’ll know,” he said.
Will I?
“Have you always lived here?” I said.
“We’ve lived all over the world. America. Asia.”
I wondered if I would ever get to travel to those places. If I would ever go home.
“Noel?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you,” I said. “You’ve been very kind.”
“You seem like a good girl, Zee,” he said. “I had daughters who were about your age.”
Had.
He rubbed his chin with the back of his fingers and leaned forward to pick up one of the broken cuffs. He shook his head. “Who put you in these?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. What could I say? I was afraid that he wouldn’t understand. That he would turn me over to the Monarchy if he knew. Instead, I dropped my head and swallowed a rush of emotion.
“I…I can’t,” I faltered. “I’m afraid that…”
“Don’t worry,” he said. He put a hand on my trembling shoulder. “You’re safe here.”
Someone approached in the grass. The footsteps stopped in front of the door.
“Come in, Jerome,” Noel said.
The door squeaked open and Jerome came in. He had put on a white T-shirt. He carried some clothes over his left arm and held a pair of white runners in his right hand.
“I hope they fit,” he said, presenting me with the items.
“Thanks.”
“Jerome, accompany Zee back to the house so she can take a shower and get cleaned up.”
“Yes sir.”
As we walked through the field, I said to Jerome, “Noel is so nice.”
“He’s a good man,” Jerome said, nodding. “He used to have a big family, two sons and three daughters.”
“Used to?”
He shrugged. “When he was human.”
We kept walking. “Now it’s just Noel and Lucas,” he said.
“And you,” I said.
“And now you,” he said.
“Oh, I’m just passing through.”
“Sure you are,” he said with a grin.
***
I knew that he knew that I was watching him, but he ignored me. And I just stood there, dressed in a black T-shirt, navy track shorts and over-sized runners, amazed by what he was doing. Lucas was fighting imaginary opponents in the woods. He leaped up and kicked his legs apart, doing the splits in mid air. His feet snapped two trees flanking him. They tumbled, crackling and whispering, against other trees.
“That’s incredible,” I said.
He continued to beat the air.
“Where did you learn martial arts?”
When he didn’t respond, I said: “I just wanted to thank you and say that I’m sorry if I offended you earlier. I really appreciate everyone’s help.”
I turned on my heels and started to leave.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I didn’t help you. My father did.”
“I’m grateful.”
“What else do you want?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You say that you don’t know who your sire is, that you have no guardian,” he said, walking toward me. “That’s bull. Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“I’m overstaying my welcome, clearly.”
“You may have fooled my father but I know that you’re hiding something.”
He stood a foot from my face and glared down his nose. His eyes were yellow-green, like those of a cat. He had an angular jawline and full, almost pouty lips. He might have been good looking if he hadn’t been so menacing.
“I don’t want to cause your family any trouble,” I said. “They’ve been very kind. And, anyway, I’m leaving. I have to get back to my own family.”
“Good,” he said. He swept by me, nudging my shoulder so that I stumbled back. “The sooner, the better.”
I waited in the darkness until I heard him open the door before I turned around and followed. He slammed the door shut behind him, causing the windowpane to shudder in its frame. Through the walls I heard Noel say, “Why do you have to be like that?” Boots clomped across the kitchen. There was no reply.
Jerome opened the door as I mounted the stone step.
“I’m sorry that my son is being an ass,” Noel said. Lucas, who was standing in the middle of the living room with his hands balled into fists at his s
ides, cast an angry stare at his father.
“I appreciate your help, removing the chains, giving me clothes and, uh, feeding me,” I said. “But I should really get going. Thank you, again.”
“What?” said Noel. “You can’t leave so soon.”
“You’ve been so nice to me but I have to go.”
“Please stay, I insist.”
“Really,” I said, “it’s okay.”
Lucas glared. “Father, she wants to go.”
“Absolutely not,” Noel said, his tone changing.
“Why?” Lucas and I said at the same time.
“The sun’s coming up in a few hours. You can’t be wandering around, trying to find shelter at dawn.”
Lucas’s shoulders sagged. He shook his head and his eyes searched the room as if he was trying to find a solution in the dust. Our eyes met. In my mind I imagined him to be hissing.
I’m not worried about the sun. I’m worried about your son drop-kicking me in the face.
“Zee, you’ll have to stay another day,” Noel said. “Please. We’ll help you get on your way tomorrow night if that’s what you want.”
“Will you stay?” Jerome asked.
It did seem safer to stay a day with Noel rather than wander around in the woods. “Okay. I can leave tomorrow.”
Noel smiled. “Now let’s all have a drink and turn in for the day.”
Chapter 14
This gives new meaning to “playing dead,” I thought as I lay on my side, watching the vampires sleep. They didn’t move. They didn’t breathe. After fifteen minutes of silence, I called Noel’s name and no one answered. It was as if they were in a coma. Or dead.
We were underneath the house. Noel had pulled up a trapdoor in the kitchen, revealing a set of creaky wooden stairs and an expansive basement. It was a maze of wood beams, crates, drawers, and chests. Along the walls were floor-to-ceiling cabinets. Jerome spread a cream towel over a wooden chest and rolled another towel into a pillow for me. “So, we sleep on top of coffins?” I joked. Noel chuckled but Lucas snapped: “If you want a luxury hotel, then go find one.”
We each had a tall glass of blood before retiring. I felt as if I’d just downed a shot of espresso. I turned onto my back, blinking against the blackness, inhaling the musty air and pressing my spine into the towel and the wood planks.
I wonder what’s in these crates? I hope it’s not bodies. They can’t be bad guys; I couldn’t bear it. I really like these people. Well, not Lucas. He’s a jerk.
I should have told them. I should have told them about the well, the Monarchy, the attempted execution, the sunlight. But I was afraid they would react poorly and return me to the castle. I knew Lucas would, in a heartbeat. I just hated feeling like I was lying to them. Especially since Noel had been so kind to me.
I remembered Noel scolding Lucas while he served us our drinks. I remembered him teasing Jerome about how he slurped. It felt like I was at home, like I was part of a family. I missed my own family so much.
Outside, above ground, wind rippled through the trees. I rolled off the chest. I can’t lie here all day. I need to walk around. I maneuvered around the boxes, which I saw in silhouette, and climbed the stairs. I paused to see if the groaning stairs had disturbed anyone. No one stirred. I pushed up on the trapdoor and went out.
With all of the shutters closed and curtains over the windows, the house was dim. But in the day, the sofa’s cream upholstery appeared tie-dyed in yellow and brown. Dirt obscured the titles of the books on the table. Flecks of dried blood dotted the counter, the floor, the face of the fridge. Boot prints created a mosaic across the floor. They need to invest in a cleaning lady.
A flock of birds flew overhead. The flapping of their wings sounded like applause. I opened the back door a crack and waved my hand through the beam of light. Still okay. I stepped outside and turned my face up to greet the sunlight. Through my closed eyes it looked like the world was ablaze. I bathed in the sun’s warmth. I felt alive.
I walked into the field, the long grass tickling my knees, a breeze catching in my hair. Jerome’s big runners made me feel like I was wearing clown shoes. I followed a butterfly in between some trees. It soared on the wind like a kite with its yellow and black papery forewings and brilliant, royal blue hind wings. I tracked its journey through the woods until it spiraled, flew toward me, as if acknowledging my presence, and then rose into the treetops.
I paused and I felt despair descend on me. What was I going to do now? How would I survive? To distract myself, I picked wildflowers: tiny yellow flowers, purple flowers with spiky petals, blood-red poppies. I gathered tall stems that looked as if they were topped with a bunch of grapes, and others covered with white blooms that reminded me of lilies. I reclined in a ditch softened by dead foliage and listened to the forest. I imagined my mother in her garden, with her plastic watering can and her yellow polka-dot gardening gloves. Wanting to remember every detail of her face, I turned this picture of her over and over in my mind. I never wanted to forget. She has a brown spot under her left eye. When she smiles, she has a single dimple in her right cheek.
Later, I returned to the quiet house with my bouquet. In the doorway I surveyed the place and decided that flowers would not help. I needed to clean. I opened all of the cabinets in the kitchen. They were empty except for dead bugs, cobwebs, tools, and knives.
Under the sink, I found a hardened cloth, a half-empty bottle of dish soap, a plastic container, and random mechanical bits. I pulled the container out, unscrewed the cap, and smelled the liquid. I coughed. It was some sort of fuel. I wet the cloth with soapy water and went to work.
I’m like Snow White, doing housework in the forest for dwarfs. Lucas is definitely Grumpy.
I cleared the dining table, wiped the books, and stacked them in a corner. They were in different languages. I placed Sun Tzu’s The Art of War on top of the pile. I wiped away cobwebs and the coat of dust on the furniture. I cleaned the floors. I arranged the flowers in two empty glass jugs and placed them on the dining table and the coffee table. Then I flopped down on the sofa and rested my feet on the table.
I must have dozed off. I awoke with a start when Lucas kicked my feet off of the table. The room was already dark.
“I must have fallen…”
Lucas bent forward and yanked me to my feet by the front of my shirt. “Hey!” I said.
“What were you doing?” he demanded.
“What do you mean?” I said, trying to pry his fingers from my collar.
“You left the undercroft in the day,” he said.
“Ow! Let go of me. I left the what?”
“The cellar, you left in the morning. Why would you go out in the day? I thought I heard you go outside, which is inconceivable. Then I heard you making all sorts of racket up here. What the hell were you doing?”
I wrested my shirt from his grip. “I’m sorry. I thought you were sleeping. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was cleaning.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to surprise your dad.”
“Are you crazy, or just stupid?” He stared at me. “How did you avoid the sun?”
“I…”
The stairs creaked as Noel emerged from the basement.
“Whoa!” He exclaimed. His face brightened. He rested his hands on his hips and took a tour. “Look at this place. It looks like people live here.”
Jerome closed the trapdoor behind him and smiled at me.
“And you even picked flowers,” Noel said.
Lucas scowled at me with narrowed eyes. “You went outside to get those flowers?”
“Yes.”
“In the day?”
“Yes.”
“How is that possible?” he asked.
All three turned to me. No one said anything.
“I don’t burn in the sunlight,” I said.
Still no one reacted. It was as if I’d spoken in a foreign language.
“I don’t know how,” I continued. “I j
ust don’t burn.”
Jerome appeared frightened. He looked at Noel, but Noel couldn’t reassure him because he also wore a bewildered expression.
“You’re lying,” Lucas said. He scanned my body and then the living room. “How did you survive? Did you have some sort of armor, or…”
His mouth kept moving but he was at a loss for words.
“I don’t have a magic cape or anything,” I said.
You have to tell them everything. You have to explain or they’ll keep looking at you like you’re a creature from outer space.
“What are you?” Lucas said, his tone suddenly shifting.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I was supposed to be a vampire.”
“Then what were you supposed to be?” he said.
“Dead.”
I started the story with Paolo. The air in the room grew dense and humid. I told them about the church, the well. About Uther, the soldiers and the Empress. Then I told them about escaping and meeting Noel in the woods.
When I was finished, I sat on the sofa, trying to interpret the expressions on their faces. The only one who looked calm was Noel. He spoke first.
“That is quite the story,” he said.
Please believe me. And if you do, please don’t deliver me back into the hands of evil.
“Thank you,” he went on, “for trusting us with this information. I know that you’ve been through a lot and it must have been difficult to explain.”
“I didn’t mean to deceive anyone,” I said, looking at Lucas.
“We understand,” Noel said.
He came around the coffee table and sat next to me on the couch. He stared into the bouquet of flowers for a minute. “This cleric that rescued you, did he say how this could have happened?”
“He just said that this had never happened before and that the well was filled with vampire blood.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone becoming a vampire without the Monarchy’s blessing, without the ritual process.” Noel looked thoughtful. “Only elders are able to create new vampires.”
“Why?” I asked.
“It’s to ensure the purity of the race. As well, a dying human needs to drink a lot of vampire blood to change. Only elders are strong enough to withstand that much blood loss.”
“I thought vampires can’t die.”
“When we’re drained of too much blood, we risk falling into a state of perpetual weakness. But sunlight will kill us—well, it kills most of us—and it’s hard to survive a beheading.”