Vampire's Vengeance, Part Three

Anemone. Top of my list. She was queen of vampires—at least in half of the city, after it got split up as part of the truce. She answered my call on the second ring. “Tom! How are you? Long time no talk.”

            “Y-yeah.” I gulped from a bottle of water. It wasn’t blood, but it helped keep my throat moist. “I need your help. Do you know a vamp who goes by Arrikin?”

            “Arrikin? Oh, he’s a bad piece of work.” She yawned. “I thought he fled the city after Asmodeus got killed. By, uh—you, if I’m right?”

            “Yeah.” After he’d killed Elena Dudovich. “He’s back.”

            “And this is my problem . . . why?”

            I looked up at Rachel. “He turned me into a vampire.”

            Anemone laughed. “Welcome to the club! We have meetings every other Wednesday. Potluck. You can bring a dessert.”

            I groaned. “He kidnapped a woman—so I could feed on her. That violates the truce. Even without me. The cops are hunting him.” At least I hoped they were.

            “Well.” Anemone growled, like a wolf suddenly sighting an enemy. “We can’t have that. I’ll look into it.”

            I didn’t know how she controlled the vamps in her part of the city. Telepathy? Drones? I didn’t care. “Okay, thanks.” I hung up.

            Rachel rubbed my shoulder. At least she was sitting close enough to touch me now, without punching me. “You feeling okay?”

            “Yeah.” Nightfall seemed to make me calmer. Maybe it was a vampire thing.

            I tapped my phone. “One more call. Then we can watch TV or something.” As long as it wasn’t more of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

            Clifton Page answered immediately. “Yes, Tom?”

            Page was head of the vamps on the other side of Chicago. More than 100 years old, with a human girlfriend, he was as close to a friend as I could count in the vampire community.

I tried to clear my dry throat. “Hello, Mr. Page. Sorry to bother you if you just woke up—”

            “I’m just listening to the radio. Your world is coming to an end.” His voice was smooth as cream. “What can I do for you?”

            “I, uh . . . I’m a vampire now.” I hated saying it. And feeling it. I kept running my tongue under my teeth, searching for fangs.

            Page paused. “How?”

            “His name’s Arrikin. It’s revenge. I’ve already talked to Anemone.” I took a deep breath. “Look, Mr. Page, the reason I’m calling is . . . is—is there anything I can do?”

            Page paused. “What do you mean?”

            “Is there a cure?” My voice was a whisper. “Is there any kind of way I can turn this around?”

            “When did he bite you?” His voice was taut.

            I looked at Rachel. “What day is today?”

            “Wednesday. You didn’t come home last night.”

            I nodded. “About—around 24 hours ago. Give or take.”

            “How much blood have you had?”

            “Uhh . . .” I tried to think. “I drank some of his blood. Enough to—do it, I guess. And then a little blood from the HBDC. Maybe a quarter of a pint?” I was already thirsty for more.

            “Don’t drink any more.” His voice was firm. “It’s the only way.”

            “Wait, what?” I glanced toward the kitchen, where the blood was waiting for me in the refrigerator. “Won’t I die?”

            “You’ll feel like it. You’ll want to. Fresh vamps can’t control themselves—they need blood. It drives them crazy. That’s why most of them get staked before they learn any kind of restraint. But the more blood they drink, the stronger it holds them. The only way to break the cycle is not to feed.”

            “But . . .” I licked my dry lips. “Does that—do you know it works?”

            “I’ve seen it. Once or twice. A friend of mine long ago did it to torture a human. She chained him in her basement and listened to him beg and moan for most of a week. I was . . . there for part of it.” He sighed. “By the end he was human again, and she let him go. I don’t know what happened to him after that.”

            Oh god. It sounded like heroin withdrawal. Or worse.

            But it was my only chance. I couldn’t become a vampire.

            “All right.” I could barely hear my own voice. “Thank you.”

            “I’ll call you in a few days.” Page hung up.

            Rachel held my hands. “It’ll be okay.”

            I pulled away, unable to look at her. Afraid of what I might say. Or do. “Throw it away.” My voice was raspy. “Right now.”

            She stood up.

            “Wait!” I waved a hand. “Just one more drink. Just . . .” I bit my lip. And tasted my own blood. Just a little.

            I slammed a fist on the coffee table, knocking the remote and some magazines on the floor. “No! Don’t listen to me! Get rid of it! Now! Then . . . tie me up again. Hurry.”

            Rachel snapped the handcuffs around my wrists again. “I wonder if I can get same-day delivery from Amazon on another pair of these.”

            “You’d better—” I gasped. “Duct tape my mouth. Before I start begging. Or cursing.”

            “You think I haven’t heard worse?” She laughed. “Trust me, Tom, it’s going to take a lot more than a few bad words to get rid of me now.” Then she sighed. “I’d kiss you if I thought it was safe.”

            I shook my head. “Sharpe was right. I don’t deserve you.”

            “You got that right.” She headed for the kitchen to pour out the blood.

The night wasn’t too bad. I spent it pacing the living room, my hands cuffed behind my back, while Rachel slept in the bedroom—presumably with the dresser blocking the door.

The next day was worse.

            Rachel ran out to a nearby hardware store that opened at 6:30 a.m. and came back with two yards’ worth of actual chains and three padlocks. That was after locking one of me to a pipe under the bathroom sink. I suppose a mature vampire at full strength could have yanked the pipe away and escaped, but I was too weak to even roll over.

            When she got back Rachel chained me up on the couch, braiding the links between my ankles and then locking them with two of the padlocks. “I’m sorry. But I have work to do today. By the way, you have no idea how the guys in the hardware store looked at me when I bought this stuff. I might have a date later with one of them if this doesn’t work out.”

            “That’s okay.” The sun was coming up. “Have a good life.”

            She punched my shoulder. “Don’t tempt me. Jerk.”

She disappeared into the bedroom and came back with an armful of blankets to cover me up. “I can only close the shades so tight. Now I understand why you vamps sleep in coffins. Just so you know, I’m not digging up the front yard to spread the soil of your homeland on our couch.”

            I pulled on the chains. “No. This is good.”

            “Okay. I’ll be in the office, trying to get some work done. Try not to make too much noise.”

            I tried to sleep. I don’t know how vampires sleep—if they dream, if they scratch their butts, or whether they have to get up to go to the bathroom. I must have dropped off from time to time, but my dreams were more like hallucinations.

            I saw Rachel, naked, holding a wooden stake over my chest. She looked hot. “It’s time, Tom. Sorry.” She stabbed the stake down.

            Arrikin, laughing at me in his basement. “See how it feels? Do you like it?” He smiled, blood dripping down his chin.

            Dudovich standing the corpse of the vampire who’d killed her. Pointing her handgun at me.  “Why didn’t you save, asshole?” She fired.

            Angelica, her throat bleeding as I licked up every drop of her blood.

            Dumbo the flying elephant, plummeting to the ground while desperately trying to fly without his magic feather. What the hell?

           

The whole day was like that. At some point I actually slept without dreams until I woke up gasping for air. “H-help! Help?”

            Rachel pulled the covers back. “It’s about time. You were shouting and squirming all day until a few hours ago.”

            I blinked. She was wearing a loose tank top, and all I could see was the vein pulsing in her throat. “I was—what time is it?”

            “Eight o’clock. Sun went down two hours ago. Do you want some water? Broth? What do vampires eat when they’re not drinking blood?”

            I’d forgotten to ask Page. But I had another urgent need. “Bathroom.”

            “Don’t expect me to hold anything for you.” She hobbled my ankles with the chains and switched the handcuffs around to the front, then led me to the bathroom in our shared office. I managed to do my business, and she waited outside the door.

            Back in the living room I slumped down. Night felt better again, although I was still ravenous. Rachel brought a tray: Vegetable broth, water, ramen noodles, and a big glass of tomato juice. “I thought that might help.”

            I stared at the setup. Then I lifted my cuffed arms to sweep everything away onto our very expensive oriental carpet. “I want blood, you bitch! Not this crap. Blood!”

            Rachel darted forward, and I felt a sharp bolt of electric pain in my shoulder. I rolled over, howling in pain.

            Her stun gun. Of course.

            “S-sorry.” I was crying again. “I didn’t mean . . . you know I didn’t mean that.”

            Rachel backed away from me, holding the stun gun menacingly. “I love you, Tom Jurgen. You know that. But I don’t care how much pain you’re in. I won’t let you talk to me that way.”

            “Right.” I nodded. She was right. “Sorry.”

            She helped me sit up. I picked up the water bottle and guzzled it down while Rachel went into the kitchen. It wasn’t blood, but I was thirsty in the usual way. “Any news?”

            Rachel picked up the noodles and glass and started cleaning the rug. “Sharpe called. She hasn’t found Angelica.”

            Oh hell. Had she gotten away? Or had Arrikin found her? I thought about her blond hair—and her nice pale throat.