Haven (15) “Shall we discuss Haven?” Grace did her best to appear undaunted. “If you like. Anything in particular?” “Where is it?” “Well, now, you know I can’t tell you that.” This was the same response Martin always gave her. “What else would you like to know about it?” “That is all we are concerned with at the moment.” Grace gave a heavy sigh and slumped back into her chair. “It occurs to me,” Marti said, pausing as if in deep thought. “If I tell you exactly where Haven is, you would no longer have any further use for me.” “We’ve been very easy on you so far, Martin. If you would just—“ “Easy on me?” His voice was suddenly cold and mocking. “Which part, exactly, was easy? When you killed and imprisoned everyone I knew, or when you locked me up to torture me on a daily basis?” He cast an icy stare at Grace as if he really expected an answer. “I was not responsible for what happened in Shallot. It’s not my department.” “It was my home,” said Martin plainly. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re all responsible.” “There is nothing that either one of us can do about it now.” Grace’s voice was unfeeling. She cared little for the ghost town of Shallot. Martin said nothing for a long while. He knew better than to argue the point with her. Grace cared little about what wrongs the Organization committed. She belonged to them. They owned her every thought. “I will kill you, Grace.” This was something Martin had never said to her. She gasped at his words. A cold fear gripped her and quickly faded, giving way to heated rage. She never broke her gaze with him as she loaded her syringe with all six of the Render samples. Neither of them said a word as Grace stood and walked toward him with the needle. In Grace’s mind, Martin had finally become the monster that she had been refusing to see him as. As the plunger pushed the fluid into Martin’s veins he looked casually at her and asked, “Am I correct in assuming that there are no retinal scanners inside these rooms because you are working on some kind of schedule?” “What?” Grace looked sharply at the door. “It only just occurs to me,” he said through now clenched fangs. “That you are stuck here with me until the timer on that door lets you out.” Grace said nothing. Terror had caught her in its thrall as she realized that he was right. “Let me tell you something, Grace, before the drug does its work.” His words were pained and slow. “They already know where Haven is. I’m sure they’re already scouting it for Observers.” “How do you know?” she asked, suddenly wishing she had controlled her rage. “They know my name, Grace. I lived there for twenty-seven years as a human. I’m sure that they don’t need any more than that. Your only purpose was to use me as a lab rat.” “I don’t believe you.” It was all she could think to say. “You don’t have to.” It was the last intelligible thing he said that night. Two trickles of blood streamed from he left eye, and then the screaming began. Six hours later Grace sat shaking in her room. And orderly had rescued her when he noticed the there were two screaming voices coming from Martin’s cell. They had questioned her for half an hour about the incident. Her supervisor almost seemed pleased with Grace’s cruelty to Martin. She could not bring herself to be proud of it, though. She knew the vampire would be in pain well into the next day. Grace tried to sleep that night, but she had little luck. At some time after midnight she found herself in the lab working with tissue samples. It did seem to relax her nerves a little. Her motives for joining the Organization had originally been to do some good in the medical field. The Organization had promised her a chance at fame. They claimed that they were close to several scientific and medical breakthroughs, but if that were true then they were no closer now than they had been. Never the less, whenever she had the time, Grace analyzed samples of vampire flesh, trying to crack its secret. She was taken by surprise when a klaxon alarm blazed to life. She froze. For a long time there was only the sound of the alarm. Finally, a voice came across the intercom to announce the situation. “All personnel please report to your nearest damp room.” Grace found this a little strange. The damp rooms were used to suppress telepsychic ability in stronger vampires while they were being questioned or tested. “All First-Class Cleaners and Trappers please report to corridor 238.” A trickle of cold sweat ran down Grace’s spine. That was the same corridor that had always frightened her, and to get to the nearest damp room from the lab would take her straight by it. A long moment passed while Grace debated staying where she was. Finally, she swallowed her fear and moved slowly toward the door of the lab. It slid open at her approach revealing a hallway full of chaos before her. Grace slid into the throng as calmly as possible. A mass of pushing and shoving limbs moved her down the corridor toward the damp room. She had not gone too far when she felt something hit her hard across the back of the legs. Her knees gave out immediately, and Grace cried out loudly as she fell to the floor. No one around her seemed to take much notice that she had fallen. She lay there for several seconds watching peoples’ legs hurry by. A pair of hands grabbed her roughly about the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She started to limp forward again ignoring the attack, hoping it had been an accident, but the hands held her in place. After a moment, she felt a chin rest uneasily on her shoulder, followed by a pair of icy shivering lips gently brushing the outer rim of her ear. “Good evening, Grace,” said the hoarse and whispery voice. Grace’s heart froze at the sound of Martin’s voice. His hands trembled on her shoulders. “How did you get out?” she whispered to him. “There is, as we speak, an unconscious orderly strapped to a chair in my cell.” He tried to chuckle as he spoke. The effect was more like an ancient cough. “Not dead?” “Not unless he is severely anemic. I had no reason to kill him.” His fingers clamped painfully into Grace’s flesh. “You, on the other hand, are a different matter entirely.” “There is no need for this, Martin. You can easily escape now.” Grace felt the tears creeping into her voice. She had felt the realness in his threat, and she knew that there was little she could actually do about it. The people in the corridor were thinning out rapidly, and soon she would be alone there with Martin. “The reason is simple, Grace. You witnessed the pain you have caused me, and you heard me tell you that I would kill you for it.” Grace prepared to speak again, but she found she had nothing to say. Martin kissed her lightly on the ear, and again on the neck. He whispered something that she could not hear. The whisper was followed by a sharp pain, a wave of nausea, dizziness, and finally, blackness. Grace fell to the floor, this time dead. No one was there to see, but ten minutes after Martin escaped her eyes opened again. Only this time they burned with a fire she had not possessed before. The memory of her death lingered in her mind. She wanted nothing more than to make Martin pay for his crime. Some part of her was sure that was why she had been granted this second chance. * * * * * * * December 8th, 2051: Dominic knew nothing of Grace’s past with Martin, but he knew that something was wrong with her. He crept through the door of his apartment and groped around in the dark. Finally, after he had found what he was looking for, Dom turned on the lights. The living room was empty. He took a moment to collect himself before moving toward the bedroom. A sliver of light fell through the door as Dom pushed it slightly ajar. He could see Grace’s open eyes staring at the ceiling. “You awake?” he asked. “Yes.” Her eyes darted quickly to him and back looking at the ceiling. “Good. We need to talk.” Grace looked at him a bit awkwardly. She did not move. For a moment she shifted uncomfortably on the bed and cleared her throat rather loudly. “Oh,” said Dom, finally realizing the problem. “Hurry up and get dressed.” He moved back into the living room and at down on the threadbare sofa. A few minutes later Grace emerged from the bedroom and took a seat in the chair across from him. “Name and rank?” Dom asked. “Grace Trinity, Cleaner, First-Class.” She stared at him with confusion. “Grace Trinity is dead, and she was never a Cleaner. Now, who are you?” Dom moved his hand to rest on the pistol that he had tucked into the back of his jeans while waking Grace. “Grace Trinity, Researcher. Missing: Presumed compromised.” She held up her hand and wriggled her fingers. “You can send in my prints, if you like.” Dom felt it was time to withdraw the gun. He pointed the barrel at her chest feeling that it was not necessary to demand further explanation. “I know you’ve talked with someone from the Organization. You should have some idea of how much good that will do you.” “You’re no vampire,” Dom said. “No, I’m no vampire.” Grace jumped forward from her chair just a bit. It was enough. The gunshot was deafening, and it did its job. “Grace was thrown back into the chair by the force of the bullet. She lay for a long moment staring at Dom. The hold in the chest of her sweater smoked, but there was no blood. Grace smiled. She sat up again and removed the sweater. Dom raised the gun, but Grace put up a hand to halt him from firing. “Don’t waste your bullets.” Dom watched in horror as the tip of the bullet dropped out of the wound. The hole in her chest closed before Dom’s eyes leaving not even the slightest of scars. “What are you?” She did not answer. She was already standing and digging in a duffle bag for a fresh shirt. “I’ve seen vampires heal, and you are a damn sight faster. Besides, they bleed.” Grace continued to say nothing. She had found a black T-shirt in the bag that she had decided would do nicely. After pulling on the shirt, she took her place in the chair across from Dom. “I don’t know.” Her voice was contemplative and distant. “Don’t know what?” “What I am.” She smiled weakly at him. “I just know what I have to do.” Dom said nothing. He was not sure that he wanted to know. “I struck the deal with the Fae,” she said. “The Organization knows nothing about it. I got all the details I needed before my access codes were changed. Even months after that my ID number still worked at the information center.” “Wait a minute,” Dom could not believe what he was hearing. “What exactly are you doing in Haven?” “I contacted the Fae so that they could help me find Martin. I promised that I would take care of Haven’s vampires if they could lead me to him. It seems that our goals ran very closely. Martin is here somewhere in Have. It wasn’t until I got here that I made the deal with the police to clean up after me.” “Why get me involved in all of this?” “The last thing I needed was a primary Observer calling in the Organization to take care of a rogue Cleaner. By the time I was finished with you, it would be too late.” Grace tried again to smile. “I guess I’ve very little time now.” “No, you don’t.” Dom thought about the position in this. “I’m not going to stop you,” he said. “I would have no chance of it, but there is something you aren’t telling me.” “I like you Dom. You have an excellent radar for bullshit.” “So, are you going to tell me?” “No.” Grace grabbed her bag of clothes and weapons and slung it over her shoulder. “It has been a pleasure, Dom, but I’ve got business to attend to.” She smiled, successfully this time, and walked out the door. Dominic only stared, jaw agape, as she left. * * * * * * * Amanda, Angelique, and Jenny converged on Martin’s alley at the same time. “Where is Martin?” Jenny immediately asked. The tone of her voice was cold and hurried. Amanda was suspicious of her motives. Angelique was only confused. She knew that Jenny probably had little interest in the affairs of Sarah, or the High Ones. “Who are you?” Amanda asked her. Jenny ignored her and looked to Angelique. “It’s important. Kinda life and death sorta thing.” “I’ve never been this popular in Haven,” a voice out of the alley said. The trio of women turned to Martin who now stood in plain sight at the mouth of the alley. He gave them all a quick gesture to come into the alley as he disappeared again behind the shadows. All three of them followed him casually. “I only need some information,” Jenny said shortly to him. “I have no interest in all this subterfuge.” She advanced on him and grabbed him by his shirt. She pulled him close to her mouth. “Just tell me who tried to kill me before I kill you,” Jenny said through openly bared fangs. Martin clasped his hand around her wrist and pushed her away from him. With amazing speed and grace he advanced on her and pushed her against the brick wall behind her. “I am not the same fledgling that you used to push around thirty-five years ago, Jenny. Do not think that because I wear the same face that I am the same man.” Jenny did not further the assault. She sat down as Martin asked. Angelique and Amanda followed suit. Martin immediately began telling his story of Shallot and the Organization. All three listened to every word. * * * * * * * Mark stood in the shadows, observing the street. He wanted to follow the vampire girl that he had run into earlier, but his sense of vengeance bade him stay put. The girl had certainly given him much to think about. All her talk of the undead and how one came to be that way had confused him. However, the feelings roused by the feel of her skin had confused him much more.
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