Haven (6)
* * * * * * * Sarah fell against a wall and let the blood rapture take her. Her mind raged as the blood that she had just consumed rushed through her body. An involuntary moan escaped her red moistened lips. Every cell in her body pulsed with a new power. Her body strengthened imperceptibly, but some part of her soul felt every minute change. She stood there for several minutes breathing heavily, staring at the body of the man she had just killed. No part of her was worried about the man’s death. Over the past fifty years the Society had managed to gain a firm hold over Haven’s police department. Also, this man had been a criminal of the lowest sort, so her worries were few. She was sure that this problem of overfeeding would resolve itself as soon as— Suddenly her mind snapped to attention. It soon became clear to her that another vampire had come into close enough proximity to her to set off several mental alarms. This was an ability that it had taken Sarah a century to master in order to feed in peace. She extended her mind out past the alley where she stood trying to determine who this chaotic minded person was. In an instant she has ascertained that it was a younger vampire, male, and very inexperienced. Something about him reminded her of Martin, but she could not put her finger on what it was. She told herself that it was only his youth. However, she decided to follow him anyway. Sarah crept out of the alleyway and saw the young man walk past her, not even taking note of her presence. He walked like a human, obviously unaware of the physical changes his body had undergone, and what he was truly capable of. She took up a pace matching his own footfalls to mask the sound of her steps. Most vampires would have heard her still, but she was fairly sure that this on would not. When she felt confident in her stride, Sarah began to direct her mind toward his. His thoughts were jumbled, and she had a difficult time discerning one from another. All that she could really tell at first was that he had recently come from the old hall, but that gave her no clue as to who he was as that there had been a rally earlier that evening, and every vampire in Haven would have had such thoughts. However, there was a definite fear in him that was somehow associated with his time spent there. She tried digging deeper. Something had spooked the fledgling earlier that night, but she could not decipher what it had been. She tried harder, but it seemed that he was actually trying to rid himself of the memory. All that Sarah could tell from it was that it somehow involved a man and a woman. Then, Sarah stopped in her tracks. At first she had thought that some other vampire had tried to contact her telepathically from nearby. The fledgling she had been following was almost out of sight when she realized that her own name had been plucked out of his memory and not from someone else as she had thought. Never the less, she had heard it plain and clear; her name whispered in an unfamiliar woman’s voice. She let the man go his way. Sarah had already started toward the old hall. She knew that something was going on that involved her, and she intended to find out what it was. Sarah moved quickly to her destination. It was almost three in the morning by her watch, and she was on the opposite side of the city as the old hall. * * * * * * * The snow had let up some by the time Jill made it to her apartment. After ten minutes spent starting a fire in the fireplace, she had settled comfortably onto her sofa with a book and a fresh cup of coffee. She wanted nothing more than to relax and take her mind off of work for a few hours before falling to sleep. Twenty minutes later she was standing in front of the window staring at the snow. The coffee had been bitter, and the book was terribly bad. It seemed that the night was somehow plotting against her. For a moment she entertained thoughts of breaking down and crying, but being that there would be no one there to comfort her, it hardly seemed worth it. Suddenly a sharp cry came from somewhere on the streets below her. She knew that it must have been awfully loud since she was five stories up, thought it sounded as if it had come from just outside. She searched the streets with her eyes for a long moment, seeing nothing of the screamer. It was not until it came again that she caught sight of the blood-streaked body directly below her. In an instant she had slipped on a pair of sneakers, and she was rushing down the stairs to the streets. By the time Jill had made it to the double doors that led from the lobby of her building to the snowy streets, she could see that the wounded woman had found her way to the concrete steps just outside the doors. Jill immediately ran outside to the weeping woman’s side. The stranger turned a face twisted in pain upward toward Jill. “Help me,” the woman mouthed to her. She tried to clutch at her side and her bleeding leg simultaneously. The pain had rendered her mute, and from the amount of spilled blood, Jill already doubted that the woman’s life could be preserved. “Stay still,” Jill told her. “I’ll call for an ambulance.” She turned away to go back inside when she felt an iron grip take hold of the back of her bare leg. She turned back to see the woman shaking her head violently. Jill knelt beside her and placed her hand gently atop her blonde head. “If I don’t call for help, you won’t make it.” What came next almost made Jill reel in shock. A deep blood-choked chuckle rose from the woman’s throat. She seemed to compose herself from the pain for a moment and gave Jill a very serious look. “I will live,” the woman said with confidence. “Please, just take me inside, and get me away from whoever did this to me.” Jill could not logically explain it, but she felt compelled to believe that this woman knew what she was talking about. As quickly as possible, she gently helped the woman to her feet. Jill negotiated the stranger’s quivering form through the doors and toward the elevator. She had avoided the rickety old thing on the way down because the stairs were faster, but she could hardly imagine subjecting the injured woman to four flights of stairs. She pulled the two of them into the elevator and pulled the metal grate shut. It was several seconds after she had pushed the button marked 5 that the elevator grudgingly started it ascent. The woman faltered in balance only once on the way up. She half fell forward as if her knees had suddenly given out on her. Jill caught her tightly about the shoulder and pulled her upright despite the pained moan she let out. Finally, they reached the fifth floor and Jill steered the woman out of the elevator and toward her apartment. “What is your name?” Jill tried to divert the woman’s attention with the question. “Jenny,” she said in a pained breath. “Do you have a last name, Jenny?” “No,” she answered, flatly. “Not anymore.” “Have any idea who might have done this to you?” Jill ignored the answer to that last question. They still had two long hallways to traverse, and Jill was more interested in keeping her talking than her actual statements. “Could have been anybody.” This answer did bother Jill somewhat. It did not sound as if this woman thought that it had been some random assailant. Jenny had given the impression that she thought that she knew several people capable of such an act. This compounded with the fact that she claimed to have no last name and wanted nothing to do with the hospital worried Jill. “Do you know who I am?” “Morgan,” the woman replied. “Mayor.” “Should I know who you are?” Jill ventured. Another bloody chuckle, and Jenny raised her head and smiled at Jill. “No,” she said. “I don’t think you would know me.” At last they reached Jill’s apartment door. She fumbled for a second for the key that she had hastily shoved into the pocket of her robe. Once she retrieved it and the door was open, Jill was faced with the problem of where to put Jenny. Later, she felt ashamed that even in the face of such an emergency she had been trying to decide how to care to Jenny without coating her home in blood. She stood in her doorway for several moments, unsure of where to take her. Finally, Jenny said “Bathroom,” in a very annoyed tone of voice. Again Jill did not think on it until later how strange it was that it seemed almost as if Jenny had plucked the idea from her mind. Never the less, she led Jenny to the bathroom. Jenny shielded her eyes against the brightness of the overhead light shining onto white tile, wallpaper, towels, and shower curtain. She untangled herself from Jill’s arm and made her way to the rim of the porcelain tub. Supporting her own weight made her wounds shoot with pain. She crumbled to the bath mat and felt as though she might vomit. She did. Her mouth opened involuntarily as Jill rushed to her side. A spill of crimson expelled itself violently onto the floor. She heard Jill gasp in horror, but Jenny knew that there was more to come. Dark red torrents of fluid continued to stream from Jenny’s mouth until she was sure that there was nothing left inside her from the man she had drained only half an hour earlier. She rolled onto her back and looked up into the terrified eyes of Jill who was looking down at her as if she knew that Jenny were about to die. “Don’t worry,” Jenny whispered to her. “Tomorrow I’ll be gone.” “If you lose anymore blood I won’t have to wait until tomorrow.” Jill lifted her from the floor and lowered her gently into the bathtub. Jenny moved her right hand to wipe the blood from her forehead, but only succeeded in smearing more there from the hand that had been holding her wounded side. Jill took both of the woman’s arms and arranged them above her head, being more careful with the left arm. Without too much trouble, Jill managed to get the now red T-shirt over Jenny’s head. She herself almost became ill when she saw the bloody fissure in the woman’s side. “What happened to you?” Jill had to turn away from her. “I was stabbed there,” she said motioning toward her ribs with her head. “And shot in the leg, I think.” “This doesn’t look like any stab wound I’ve ever seen,” Jill said, once again examining the injury. It looked as though the flesh had somehow been torn away from the woman’s ribs, revealing bone and various muscles. Jenny moved to examine it herself, but Jill held her in place. “It’s all right,” Jenny said. “Blood is something I’m used to.” Jill allowed her to lean forward slightly and look at the gash. Another twinge pulled at her mind when Jenny had mentioned being accustomed to blood. It was almost as if it struck some familiar chord in her mind. She watched with something very near pity as the woman inspected her side. “Oh, my God!” Jenny cried out. Jill pushed her gently back against the porcelain backing and tried to calm her. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered. “It was not that bad before.” “Let me take a look at your leg.” Jill tried to sound as calm as possible, but in truth she was awed by the fact that this woman was not already dead. She gingerly began to roll up Jenny’s right pant leg as painlessly as possible. She was almost relieved to see the half-inch bullet wound in the woman’s calf. She had half expected to find another gruesome cleft of open flesh on Jenny’s leg. “It looks all right, considering the circumstances. Looks like you lost the bullet somewhere along the way, and I don’t think it’s too deep.” “Still not right,” Jenny mumbled. “It should be gone by now.” Jill pitied the girl. She had obviously slipped into delirium. She put a hand to Jenny’s bloodied brow and tried to quiet her. “Go to bed, Mayor Morgan,” she said quietly. “If I’m no longer alive in the morning, throw me in the sun to burn, and tell no one what you have seen here tonight.” Jill almost reeled away from the tub. Puzzle pieces snapped together in her mind. She realized that it had not been the things that Jenny had said earlier that had seemed so familiar, but the voice saying them. Though it seemed impossible, Jill suddenly knew that this had to be the person that had saved her so many years ago. Her mind immediately rejected the idea as quickly as it had come. Jill stood up and looked the woman over. It was entirely possible that this was the woman that she had encountered fifteen years ago, save for the fact that Jenny could scarcely have been ten years old then. Still, Jill entertained the possibility that they were the same woman. However, seeing Jenny in this situation it was hard to tell anything much about her at all. Blood soaked from head to foot lying topless in a bathtub. Jenny had apparently gone unconscious after her last statement, and she looked far too innocent to have ever done anything as violent as the things that had taken place in that dark alley so many years before. Jill realized then that despite who this woman may or may not have been she must do something at once to save her. She turned and began digging through a small cupboard beneath the sink for some sort of bandage. She found a box of gauze that she had bought years earlier for no readily apparent reason, along with absolutely nothing else that looked to be particularly helpful. She decided to save the gauze for Jenny’s ribs, and do what she could for the lesser wound on the leg. Carefully, she placed a moistened washcloth over the more serious wound, and began wrapping gauze around Jenny’s torso. Jenny let out a moan as the wrappings tightened about her midsection, but she did not awake. After she had finished and admired her work, Jill turned her attention toward the still bleeding leg. All that she really knew to do, after careful thought, was to wrap it tightly in a damp towel and hope that Jenny’s recuperative abilities were as unnatural as she had claimed. Once finished, she could not allow herself to let Jenny sleep the night through in the tub. Her shame at putting her there in the first place was beginning to take its toll on her conscience. * * * * * * * It was nearing 4:30am when Sarah reached the old hall. She knew that something was amiss the moment the building came into view. No sense of movement could be detected from outside, but the huge double doors had been left standing open. Those doors were seldom seen open but for on the night of a rally. Though there had been a rally early this evening, the doors should have long since been shut and bolted, especially with dawn approaching so soon. Sarah reached to the open doors and scanned the interior of the meeting hall with an investigative eye. Everything appeared to be in its proper place. She moved passed the dais that spanned the back of the room, toward the chambers of the High Ones. She halted in her steps when the aroma of blood came thick around her. Sarah opened the door before her apprehensively. She knew before she ever turned the knob that a room full of bloody horrors awaited her. She was not, however, fully prepared for the absolute severity of the room’s contents. Above all else, it was the people that were mutilated within that horrified her the most. After Mobius had been dispatched thirty-five years earlier, great changes had been made in the order of the High Ones power. So, when Sarah opened the door and saw the frail body of Stephanie lying sprawled on the floor, it was one of the saddest moments in her existence. The room was strewn with the broken bodies of all of Haven’s High Ones, but Stephanie was a different matter altogether to Sarah. The two of them had once been very close. It had been Stephanie that had mentored Sarah in the ways of vampirism. The two had been inseparable for decades. Tragic as it was, it seemed only fitting that Sarah should be there in her last moments of being. Sarah was quite aware that something truly evil had happened in this place. No normal force could have wrought such destruction to twelve of the cities eldest vampires. She was also acutely sensitive to the fact that any force capable of such measures presented a threat to the entire Society of Haven. Immediately she rushed to Stephanie’s side to comfort her in what she thought would be her last moments. “What has happened?” she asked, a touch of the English accent entered her voice as it often did when she was worried. “He has betrayed us,” Stephanie said harshly as she rolled onto her back revealing a cloven gash up her torso that ran from waist to clavicle. “He betrayed us all,” she said again, a trickle of blood seeping from her mouth as she spoke. “Who has betrayed us?” Sarah said hurriedly. “Who did this to you?” Stephanie looked at her as if debating what to tell her. In this moment of weakness, Sarah could read a little of what was going on in Stephanie’s mind. She knew that the tale was a long one and Stephanie was as aware as she was that there was no time to tell it. “Martin is responsible. He must be killed for this crime.” Stephanie coughed violently for a moment, spraying crimson droplets onto Sarah’s clothes. Sarah laid a calming hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “Shhh.” Bloody tears leapt to Sarah’s eyes. “Worry not, Stara, you’ll be all right soon.” It was the first time Sarah had spoken Stephanie’s true name in well over a century. It seemed to calm both of them. Stephanie smiled slightly and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Sarah. From here on, go with my blessings.” It was the last breath she ever had. It was an acceptance she had waited a hundred years to hear. Sarah laid her head on Stephanie’s moist chest and wept. No matter her feelings about Martin, if he truly were responsible for this, Sarah certainly would kill him. However, she could not imagine Martin committing such atrocities as this. After her initial mourning was complete, she stood and began to examine the room. All of the bodies showed similar injuries as Stephanie’s. Though this would have killed any normal human, none of these wounds were serious enough to kill vampires of this age. In fact, a nursling could probably have recovered some of the injuries. The room was also missing some very old texts that the High Ones had hoarded there over the decades. Sarah had no idea what was going on, but she would surely find out. * * * * * * * Predawn began to brighten the horizon when Seamus reached his destination. The house was squarish, dull and very average. All of the shutters were pulled shut, yet it still retained an air of friendliness and a “welcome home” kind of look to it. Seamus smiled as he approached the little brick structure. He knew that the house’s single inhabitant would be waking soon, and surely would welcome him. At least, he hoped so. He stepped up to the front door and rapped three times, lightly. Soft stirring noises could be heard from inside, but after several moments it was apparent that his knock had not been heard. The sun was climbing dangerously close to the far side of the horizon, and Seamus knocked louder. A moment later the door opened slightly. Through the opening Seamus could see the tired face of the woman he had come to see. “Good morning,” she said sleepily to him. “How have you been?” “I would love to tell you about it,” he answered quickly, “but the sun is coming, and I would really prefer to do it inside.” He tried his best to sound polite, but he could feel the air around him warming, and in another thirty seconds the first rays of sunlight would be creeping into the city. “Of course,” she said apologetically. “Come inside.” “I’m sorry it’s been so long,” he said as she led him into the house. “Contact with humans is frowned upon where I’m at right now.” “It’s enough that you are here now,” she said. “So what is it that brings you?” The girl turned to him and raised her eyebrows. “So, it is not possible that I come here only for your company?” “I should be so lucky. It’s been a long time since I have seen you, Seamus, but I was only a little girl the last time you visited me just to have the company.” Seamus frowned because this was all too true. In his human life, Seamus had been a friend of the girl’s parents. He had already been taken into unlife when Abby was born. She had always known what he was from the time she was old enough to understand. When her parents were killed when she was 17, Abby had been left in Seamus’ care.
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