Twice Bitten Page 7

  “You have heard of Bernadette, correct?”

  Her French accent was more pronounced than Garvan’s, but there was also some other influence in the delivery of her words. Perhaps, an older Basque touch?

  “She’s the one who saw visions and had a shrine built in her honor. Thousands of people come to visit the town every year,” I acknowledged, after nodding shyly. I could tell that I suffered a huge disadvantage in terms of what she knew about me and my family. It was her family too, apparently, which I struggled to wrap my mind around.

  “Actually, it is three million people each year that journey to Lourdes—many on pilgrimage,” she said, her eyes twinkling with the same mirth I’ve often felt when someone gets the facts wrong about a subject. “A basilica was built long ago in 1876, and an underground church was finished in 1958. The town served as a medieval stronghold for yours and my ancestors, too.”

  “Oh,” I said, quietly. The warmth from the fire had reached me, and my parka had become a furnace on my shoulders and arms.

  “Allow me,” she said, moving to remove my coat so quickly that I scarcely felt my arms pulled through it. “Now, that’s better, eh?”

  “Yes… Thanks.”

  “My earthly name was Berezi Ybarra, the great, great, great auntie to Bernadette—who is one of your most famous ancestors, as you’ve surely been told,” she continued, handing my coat to the other female who stepped forward after a slight nod. “But our bloodline goes very far back…further than you can even begin to imagine.”

  “Which again is why we’re all here!”

  Armando’s booming voice echoed off the cave walls, drifting up through a small shaft nestled between an outcropping of stalactites above us where the reverberations were shriller. He danced around the fire, wearing a maniacal look on his face while playing an imaginary violin. The others all snickered.

  “Yes, it is the reason we’ve come,” this female, once known as Berezi, continued. “The bloodline that began thousands of years ago is now in danger of extinction. Armando and Garvan have advised me that you now know the reasons for our urgency to protect you. Due to the expanse of your Basque relatives throughout the world, less than ten years ago there were nearly one hundred females who carried the gift that our breed of vampires needs to survive, and which allows us to govern the less-fortunate of our kind. But, roughly six months ago, the gift carriers began to die. In September, the survivors numbered just fourteen… dwindling to three as of two weeks ago….”

  Her voice trailed off, and she looked away, as if somehow reliving what had happened to these ‘carriers’. No doubt they bore the same birthmark as mine.

  “Yes…they did,” she advised, turning to face me again, as if I had voiced my thought.

  Dressed in the same dark clothing and trench coat as Armando and Garvan, she opened her coat and pulled her sweater away from her neck. The pastiness of her skin accentuated the tiny teardrops that marked her carotid artery, near the base of her throat.

  “It is the mark that we all bear—all of us who carry the gift,” she advised. “But you are now the only living human being in the entire world that has it.”

  For the first time during our conversation, her eyes betrayed her depth of worry. This was some serious shit! An enormous burden began to settle upon my shoulders, and its weight nearly took my breath away.

  “Armando called you a princess when we arrived here,” I said, looking for some distraction…something to lessen the impact of what she just told me. “My papa told me recently that the little tears on our necks were once the symbol of Basque royalty. Is that true, and is it the reason Armando said that?”

  “It’s more than that, I assure—“

  “Armando, let me handle this!” she scolded him, though lightly. He nodded his consent to her interruption, and she addressed me again. “Your papa is correct. Many members of the Basque royalty have been born with the same birthmark, as well as their ancestors from other cultures. Our lineage dates back thousands of years, where the carriers of this gift easily infiltrated the ruling classes of the world’s most highly developed civilizations.”

  “That’s why we do not address her as ‘Berezi’,” said the petite female, who suddenly joined us, eyeing me as if I were a very rare novelty—or perhaps, more likely, as a delectable treat to taste. Her French accent was also strong, and I detected the slight aroma of roses. “She is known to us all as ‘Chanson de I’Eternelle’, since she is the vampire who carries forth our Song forever.”

  Her eyes were violet, so unusual and assuredly a byproduct of her vampire birth long ago. They flashed with desire within her small oval face that was framed by a rich halo of crimson colored hair hanging in loose curls upon her shoulders. All her other features were dainty, including her thin lips and delicate nose and cheekbones. Her similar attire of black leather trench coat, stiletto heels, and a dark sweater beneath did little to make her look fearsome. If not for the fangs and her china-doll porcelain skin—as well as those piercing eyes—she could easily pass for some men’s magazine pin-up.

  “So, how should I address you, then?” I asked, not sure how to address either one at this point.

  “‘Chanson’ will be fine,” said Berezi. “And, this is Raquel Meurtrier.”

  She gestured playfully to the flaming redhead, who curtseyed with dramatic flair.

  “Ah-hem!” Another booming male voice resounded behind the females, as the lone remaining stranger to me lifted his chin in defiance at being ignored for so long. Even so, I detected an impish glint in his amber vampire eyes.

  “And this…this is Franz Blutliebhaber,” Chanson said, motioning for him to join them.

  Franz stepped over to us, completing my immersion in a mixed bath of sensual aromas. He bore more of a sage-like musk scent that seemed to go well with his strong German features. Blonde with high cheekbones and dimples framing a toothy smile, only the fangs and iridescent eyes would alert otherwise unsuspecting humans that a dangerous predator walked in their midst.

  I cracked a wry grin at the thought these five gorgeous former humans would make one hell of an act, like some heavy metal band with a metaphysical twist. “America’s Got Talent” could do much worse. Too bad they were just visiting.

  “You are quite humorous.” Chanson chuckled for a moment, alluding to my latest musing, but then her demeanor turned solemn. “We have a proposal for you…something serious to consider. As it is getting harder to protect you, we ask tonight that you return immediately with us to Europe.”

  Wow. Part of me was flattered by all of this attention. But, I couldn’t even consider leaving my country…my homeland. I loved Virginia, and my second home of Knoxville, Tennessee, had already found a place in my heart. And, aside from not wanting to leave my friends and be any farther away from my family, I had a slew of homework and several tests to study for before Thanksgiving break began in a couple of weeks.

  “I can’t,” I said, lowering my gaze. I worried that this might piss her off enough to rip my head from my shoulders, and then the five of them would share my precious blood amongst themselves. “I need to stay here.”

  She nodded in response. The look on Chanson’s face was one of intense concentration. Perhaps, she searched my thoughts for a truthful confirmation of my words to her, or more likely some weakness she could use to twist my arm into going.

  “It’s far too dangerous for you to stay, Txema—I won’t allow it!”

  Everyone turned toward Garvan. Distressed, his green eyes flashed even brighter than Chanson’s. As he regarded me, I sensed intense longing emanating toward me like a powerful magnet. My pulse began to rise, and I could feel my face flush.

  It drew an amused laugh from Armando, who clapped his hands approvingly.

  “While I certainly share Garvan’s opinion for urgency, I can only admire his infatuation with our cherished guest,” he said, still chuckling while moving up to Garvan and grasping his shoulder in a show of brotherly affection. Meanwhile,
Garvan scowled. His face flushed as it had the other night, only this time from obvious embarrassment. “Perhaps you fancy this young girl—this young human—as your vampire bride, no?”

  “She needs to be safe—none of us can afford for anything tragic to happen to her!” he seethed in response.

  Apparently, there were limits to his subservience to Armando. A glance at Chanson confirmed that he needed her approval instead to go on. She nodded slightly, and Garvan continued.

  “Armando, you should be just as passionate as me in getting her to agree to leave with us—Tonight! You should all be helping me convince her!!”

  He looked at each of his companions individually, his eyes and quivering mouth imploring them to aid him. Everyone nodded quietly while a slight snicker escaped Armando’s mouth.

  “Come, Txema. Please, come with us back to France!” Garvan begged me, his tone almost plaintive as he ignored Armando. “It’s the surest way to save your life, and I guarantee every comfort imaginable will be provided to you!”

  The way he looked at me pulled on my heart and almost made me say ‘yes!’ I felt like I was sixteen all over again, experiencing my first taste of love. But, I also knew the treachery of infatuation. Such infantile attachments most often lead to empty promises and assuredly a broken heart. Not to mention the blatant betrayal of Peter’s devotion.

  “I’m not ready for this…I’m sorry,” I said, finally. I could never leave, but I was struggling to control my heart’s sudden desire to do just that. My growing attraction to this gorgeous vampire stirred my heart and alarmed my conscience.

  “Then we must wait!” Chanson announced. She raised her open hand to quiet one last protest from Garvan. “We will continue to watch over and protect you, Txema. Contrary to what you might presume, you have no say in regard to our surveillance of you. Know that we will interfere if necessary to save your life.”

  She nodded her head and then motioned for Garvan and Armando to lead me from her presence. Right before we stepped out of the cave, I heard her call to me one last time.

  “Make sure you avoid the shadows, Txema! The Monstres Glabres are growing in number and will continue to hunt for you, following your blood scent! You can call us anytime, and we will be there quickly. Stay safe! Stay alive, Txema!!”

  As her words finished, Armando and Garvan pulled me into the air, and we again traveled through the surrounding darkness at incredible speed. It seemed even faster than the trip to the cave. Once we reached Knoxville’s city lights, everything became an indiscernible blur. I feared we’d crash into Massey Hall, which came up suddenly.

  Then we slowed dramatically. My window opened, as if some unseen hand loosened the latch and pulled the pane aside. As before, I again floated into the room. Peter still snored, unaware of our return, and there remained no sign of my roommate and her boyfriend…thankfully, I might add. I didn’t want to consider what might occur if Tyreen and Johnny awakened to find two members of the undead guiding my floating body through our dorm room.

  “Good night, Txema!” Garvan and Armando whispered together, after they positioned my body next to Peter’s.

  Peter stirred slightly as the window closed and the latch clicked shut, announcing my companions’ swift departure. The coolness that slipped into the room brought a shiver to him, and he pulled up the comforter to cover us both, despite the parka I still wore. A moment later, he snored again, as if completely oblivious to what had just happened. Clueless and innocent…a state of being I coveted, fearing it was gone forever. Life had quickly become so complicated. Amid so much death and danger lay a decision that had to be made…soon.

  Chapter 10

  It was almost eight o’clock when Peter woke me up. By then, bright sunlight filled my room, and a busy Saturday morning was already under way. Yet, it felt as if I had just gone to sleep an hour or so earlier.

  “You had better get up, babe. The best of breakfast will be over and done with if we wait much longer,” he said, after my initial response was to roll away from him and the harsh light pouring in my window. “Tyreen and Johnny have already left, and they promised to save us a couple of seats in the cafeteria…provided you wake up and take your shower.”

  I really wanted to sleep, especially since I felt light-headed. A headache would be coming soon. These late night vampire visits weren’t such a good thing for my health. But, sleep while your persistent boyfriend tries to wake you up is by no means an easy proposition either.

  Peter had already showered, and was dressed in a faded pair of Levis and a Tennessee Volunteers sweatshirt. I wished to God I had my cell phone handy, so I could’ve taken his picture, dressed this casually. His hair was still wet, combed back from his forehead to reveal his regal hairline. I remember seeing pictures as a young girl of John F Kennedy Jr., and Peter’s thick head of hair often has reminded me of the late jetsetter.

  “I’m up,” I muttered weakly, slowly bringing my leg over so I could step down from my bed.

  “If you want to rough it today, just throw on some sweats and a ball cap and we can go eat first, and come back here afterward,” he suggested, grinning while he watched me slide down from my bunk and stumble to my dresser. “It’s up to you.”

  “Let me take a quick shower, and I’ll be right back,” I told him. My head throbbed, and I thought for a moment I’d have to lie down again. But, after I grabbed my shampoo and body wash, much of the throbbing passed. “Go ahead and text Tyreen to let her know we should be there within the next twenty minutes.”

  “All right.”

  I watched him pull out his handset and plop down in a beanbag chair in front of the TV. Before he could look over at me again, I was already on my way to the showers. The expressions on the faces I passed along the way were a curious mixture of worry and tension, and just a few smiles. Surely, this had much to do with what I’d find out a short while later. Classes had been canceled for Monday, and UT’s Regent Board of Directors were discussing the possibility of closing school until after Thanksgiving.

  Why?

  Yes, the killings and abductions were enough on their own to warrant escalated efforts to keep the student body safe. But, more had happened since the last update…details to follow soon.

  “Ha! You look like a drenched ‘Cousin It’ like that!” teased Peter, once I returned to my room with my dripping hair hanging over my face.

  “Careful, buster, or it could be ‘Broom Hilda’ instead!” I countered, surprised he even knew who ‘Cousin It’ was, given his sheltered and often superficial upbringing. Sixties TV programs would’ve seriously cut into his X-box time as it is. The confused look he gave to my response told me that he had no idea who the comic witch I mentioned was. “You might end up turning into a little horny toad with a wart on its head!”

  “Well, at least the horny part would still be here!”

  “Ha! You’re so terrible!”

  Time was wasting. A glance at the clock on the vanity confirmed more than twenty minutes had passed since I asked him to text Tyreen.

  Shit!

  “Did Tyreen get your text?”

  I hurried to finish getting ready. Deciding that wet hair would have to suffice, I moved on to a quick makeup job. Applying my lipstick as we scurried out the door, Peter acted as my mirror, to make sure it was straight with no smudges.

  “Yes, she responded right away,” he said. “And, she just sent a message a moment ago, asking ‘where the hell are you?’” He snickered until he saw my frown. Not the time to be teasing his ‘darling Txema’. “Okay, I guess we should just hurry, huh?”

  “Yes, we should,” I said, tersely. “But you could do me a big favor and text her back that we’re on our way.”

  I forced a superficially sweet smile, and Peter pulled the keyboard out on his phone, ready to send a reply. But he also started slowing down, almost to a full stop.

  “Never mind, I’m dialing her now,” I told him, shaking my head as I dialed her number from my handset.

>   She answered my call while Peter ran to catch up with me before the elevator door closed.

  “Yeah, I know we’re running late, but we’ll be there in just a few minutes,” I told her. “What security problem?”

  Once we reached the main floor, I soon understood Tyreen’s advisement of a beefed up police patrol. It seemed as if there were cops everywhere, making me wonder if the rest of campus looked like the main lobby of Massey Hall.

  It took nearly fifteen more minutes to make it through the security checkpoint at the building’s main entrance. The female cop who finally let us through was none too happy about Peter’s presence in the building, after he readily admitted he spent the night. The look of disappointment she gave me would’ve been no worse had it come from my mother.

  “Damn, it took you two long enough….we’ve already finished eating!” said Johnny, making room at the cafeteria table so Peter and I could sit down with our scrambled eggs and pancakes. Tyreen sat across from us, shaking her head at either how late we were, or her man’s weak attempt at sounding pissed. “I guess I’ll just have to grab another pumpkin muffin to tide me over for the day!”

  He got up from the table, after asking us all if we wanted something else. Tyreen told him that she’d like another cappuccino. Dressed in a purple wool pullover and matching tights, she looked rested. Although, the oppressive worry this week’s events had forced upon her remained thinly disguised beneath her lovely smile. It lurked in her eyes. I wanted to ask her how she was doing, but wasn’t sure what it would take for the delicate façade to crumble, and send her stress level soaring up. So, I focused on small talk, like what to make of the horde of police officers in the cafeteria and back at the dorm.

  “Is this how it is everywhere?” I made sure I sounded light-hearted. It would be hard as hell to get any studying done at the library if this was the scene there, too. “I worry about who’s watching the usual villains ready to strike in Gotham City.”