CHARLIE
Being a vampyre had its plusses and its minuses.
The blood thirst was a bitch. I thought I’d been itchy when I was missing coffee and cigarettes in Maethalia. This feeling was about twenty million times worse than that.
But on the plus side, my strength and endurance seemed to be off the charts.
I walked the ten miles to my apartment in what seemed like no time at all, even in Auggie’s tight clothes and too-small shoes.
I had no problem scaling the second-floor balcony and clambering through an unlocked window, since I’d lost my apartment key—and I was relieved to find no unwelcome visitors waiting for me inside.
In seconds, I’d dressed in my own clothes: trousers, flight jacket, flight boots.
I grabbed my spare service pistol, a roll of cash, my officer’s saber, a change of clothes, and a box of stale crackers, and I stuffed it all into a duffel bag. Then, I was out the door.
After a trolley ride to the north side of town and thirty more minutes in a taxi, I reached my destination.
The farm was a fixture of my childhood, a perpetual safe haven where I’d spent a dozen summers working in tractors with my grandfather, baking cookies with my grandmother, and jumping from the hayloft with my favorite cousin, Bo.
In a world of constant building and modernization, not to mention the relentless erosion of war, the farm was an island of consistency, a place where time seemed to stand still, where the earth seemed to stop turning.
A place where I could find my footing and my peace.
But today, beneath the clear blue mid-morning sky, something felt off.
The difference was so large, it took a second for it to register in my brain.
When it did, I cursed and started running.
The old red barn was gone. Only the stone foundation remained amid a tumble of charred, fallen timbers and gray ash.
My plane—and my only way to get to Maethalia, had been inside it.
“Dammit,” I muttered as I stood with my hands on my hips, taking in the devastation.
The screech of the screen door spun me around, my heart thumping. But it was only Bo.
“Hello?” he called, his voice sounding small amid the vast landscape of field and sky.
I jogged toward him. “Bo. It’s me.”
“You better be real,” he said, making his way down the steps. “Charlie was enough of a pain in the ass when he was alive. I can’t imagine what his ghost would be like…”
I swept my cousin into a hug.
“That real enough for ya?”
“I knew you were too stubborn to die,” he said, a catch his throat on the final word as he slapped me on the back—hard.
I pulled back to arm’s length to inspect him. He looked okay, thank God. His unseeing eyes seemed focused on something beyond me, but he searched me with his hands, patting me on the shoulders.
“Where’ve you been? And what have you been eating? God, man. You feel like you’ve lost some beef.”
“Long story,” I said. “What the hell happened to the barn?”
Bo grunted. “Your fan club came looking for you again.”
“The spooks?”
He nodded. “They told me you were dead. But they still insisted on searching the place—like they thought you were hiding out here or something. So I thought… yeah, like hell he’s dead.”
I laughed. “I was only a little bit dead,” I said.
“When they didn’t find you, I guess they decided to torch the barn just for spite. The pricks. At least they left the house alone.”
I gazed mournfully at the place where the barn had stood. We’d made a lot of great memories in that place, Bo and I. But that wasn’t the biggest loss.
“The plane…” I started, but Bo held up a finger, stopping me. He tilted his head, listening.
“Someone’s coming.”
Then I heard it, too. The sound of an engine on the wind. A cloud of dust rose in the distance as a black car appeared, rumbling up the long driveway.
“Here we go,” I grumbled, kneeling and unzipping my duffel bag. I took my weapons belt out and strapped on my service pistol.
“You think they’re here to take you to the brig?” Bo asked.
“Not without a fight,” I said.
I watched and Bo listened as the car approached.
“It’s not an MP car,” Bo said. “Those are eight cylinder. This is a straight six.”
“Good ear,” I said. “Looks like a civilian vehicle.”
I placed a hand on my pistol as the car’s wheels ground to a halt in front of us. The rear door burst open, and out jumped Kitty, in a knee-length white dress with a matching hat and purse. She had a small travel bag in each hand and a white, sequined purse tucked under one arm.
“Thanks a million. You’re a doll!” she shouted through the passenger window to a woman with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, who waved, threw the car in reverse, and started backing down the driveway.
Kitty wheeled to face us, flashing a winning smile—with just the faintest hint of fang.
“Well, fancy meeting you here,” she said.
“Why the hell are you here, Kitty?” I sighed.
“Kitty?” Bo said. “Is this the Kitty who…?”
“Who he was engaged to but never brought out here to meet you? Yep, that’s the one,” she said, struggling toward us with her bags, then setting them down. “You must be Bo. Charlie’s always had such nice things to say about you.”
“All lies,” I muttered.
But Bo’s attention was on Kitty. “He was right. You’re pretty,” he said.
Kitty’s brow furrowed. “I thought you were…”
“Blind?” Bo laughed. “Sure. But I can still tell when someone’s pretty. You can hear it in a woman’s mouth. The way they shape the words.”
He reached out and put a finger to Kitty’s lips, and she preened like a cat being pet.
“Yep. Beautiful,” Bo said.
“See, Charlie, this is how a gentleman treats a lady,” Kitty said, blushing. “I hope you’re taking notes.”
“Why are you here?” I asked pointedly.
“To join you on your trip, obviously,” she said, gesturing to her bags.
“There is no trip,” I groused. “And if there were one, you wouldn’t be going.”
She straightened up, prim as a church lady. “You might change your mind about that,” she said, digging into her purse. Her hand came out with a book, which she held out to me. It looked old—ancient, even—with a beat-up leather cover.
“Do I look like I’m here to check out a library book?” I asked.
“You look like you’ve never cracked a book in your life,” Kitty shot back. “But even you might find this one interesting. I was going to tell you about it before you stormed off.”
Grudgingly, I took the book from her outstretched hand. The title embossed on the leather cover was: Legends of Umsir: 1000 years of Collected Tales from the Oracle of Maethalia.
Kitty tapped the cover with one manicured fingernail. “Read tale thirteen.”
“How about you give me a summary?”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “It’s the story of the Oracle of Umsir reversing someone’s vampyrism.
I wanted to wait until we defeated Langford and his thugs—having superior strength and reflexes and whatnot would be pretty helpful for fighting them—but since you insist on going to Maethalia anyway, we can visit the Oracle while we’re there. We can get the curse lifted, Charlie.”
“Kitty…” I shook my head.
“Wait,” Bo frowned. “You two are vampyres now?”
I thumped him on the shoulder. “Yeah. Try to keep up.”
“The blood thirst is terrible, Charlie,” Kitty pressed. “I know you’ve felt it already… but believe me, it gets worse.”
I brandished the book. “How do you even know this is real? It says right on the cover: legends. As in, made-up stories.”
“Actually, most legends have at least some basis in fact,” Bo put in.
“Nobody asked you,” I snapped, then turned back to Kitty. “How would we even find this Oracle?”
“I brought maps! I stole them from the newspaper’s archives.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a handful of folded-up maps so old they looked like they’d disintegrate if somebody sneezed near them.
I folded my arms. “I can see you did your homework, and I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we can’t go to Maethalia even if we wanted to.” I pointed. “You see that foundation over there? That’s the barn where my plane was parked. You notice anything about it? No plane, no trip.”
“Uh, actually…” Bo said. “Come with me.”
With one hand on my shoulder to guide him, Bo led us down the lane to the place where the field bordered the woods, to a spot Bo and I always called “the gully.” Here, the stream that ran through the property meandered through a broad ravine.
The path should have led down a slope. Instead, the land now appeared flat—at first glance.
But after a couple of blinks, I saw that what I’d at first taken for ground and foliage was in fact a very large, green painted tarp camouflaged with bushes, leaves, and twigs.
“You clever bastard,” I said to Bo, grinning in spite of myself.
“After those guys came and kicked the shit out of me, I figured they’d be back,” Bo explained. “We were lucky they didn’t search the barn the first time. I didn’t want to take any chances.”
I knelt, grabbed a corner and tugged, already knowing what I’d find beneath it. The tarp pulled away, revealing not only my trusty plane, Ruby, but another plane as well. The second one wasn’t a fighter—just a dumpy old tri-wing cargo plane. But still…
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Oh,” Bo laughed. “The mail plane? I picked her up for spare parts. She runs, though.”
Kitty clapped her hands. “See? Two planes. We can all go. You’re out of excuses, Charlie.”
“Two planes and they each have one seat,” I corrected. “And let me remind you, we only have one pilot.”
Bo crossed his arms. “I’m a pilot.”
“You can’t see!” I said.
“I can see,” Kitty said.
“You’re not a pilot!” I shouted, shaking my head. “God, you two… Come on. We have to get these planes out of the ditch…”
But Bo didn’t move.
“I could fly the plane, she could be my eyes,” he said.
I waited for the laugh. The wink. But it didn’t come. I looked at Bo hard, then, and saw an expression on his face that I hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked hopeful. Excited.
He did love flying. Hell, he’s the one who had gotten me into it.
“You’re serious?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I love the farm, Charlie. But if I’m honest, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life out here in the middle of nowhere all by myself.
I’m not a farmer. Blind or not, I’m still an ace, like you.
So if you’re asking me if I want to fly…
even if it’s just one more time… hell yeah I do. ”
Kitty turned to me, clapping her hands. “Can we? Can we come, Charlie? Just say yes. Say yes, say yes!”
I groaned, rubbing a hand over my forehead.
The blood hunger was washing over me again, making it hard to think.
I wouldn’t prey on humans and drink their blood.
I’d rather die than do that. But if the feeling got much worse, I might actually go insane.
And what about Essa? She might not want to be with me if I was a monster.
Hell, she might not even be safe with me.
As much as I hated to admit it, Kitty was right.
The truth was, I couldn’t go on like this.
But if we could get to Maethalia, reunite with Essa, then find this Oracle and have her turn me back into myself again…
“Say yes! Say yes!” Kitty was still chanting.
And Bo joined in, mimicking Kitty’s singsong voice. “Say yes, Charlie, say yes!”
At last, I threw up my hands. “Damn you both,” I growled. “Fine. Let’s go back and find a rope and pulley. Let’s get these planes out of the ditch.”