Chapter 12
“God, I’m such an idiot.” I rub my temples, looking at the mess I created in the kitchen.
Why I thought cleaning out the cabinets was a good idea is beyond me.
Seeing that I have no other choice than to pick this shit up, I stand and step over a pile of rusted pots and pans from my “throw away” pile.
The repairman is still working away on the furnace downstairs in the basement, and I have about an hour until sunset.
Having flipped through what I think is a spell book probably fifty times, I needed to do something productive to keep occupied, and cleaning the kitchen sounded like a good idea at the time.
On the surface, everything in the house appeared clean.
There was no clutter, the counters had been wiped down before the house was abandoned, and the cabinets were in good condition.
Upon further inspection, I found a lot of the dishes to have been lazily washed, the pots and pans to be old, rusted, with flaking Teflon making it not safe to cook in anymore. Not that I cook.
But I think I’m going to have to start.
I stack the old pots and pans in an empty box I brought up from the basement and slide it to the back door.
I washed most of the plates and silverware yesterday and finished the cups and glasses today.
This kitchen must have been impressive at one point, and my mind drifts to Great Aunt Mary.
Did she host dinner parties at this house?
Her friends would have come in and looked around in awe.
A bigger question burns inside, one I desperately wish to know the answer to.
Did she know about the gargoyles? The house was built roughly a hundred and twenty-two years ago.
How the hell did four gargoyles from the Templar time period get here?
Maybe they were bought as art pieces, set on the house to make it stand out more than it already does.
Digging into the history of the house is yet another thing on my ever-growing list.
“Ma’am?” The basement door opens and the repairman steps out, moving into the kitchen. He eyeballs the giant mess I’ve made. “You’re all set.”
“It works?”
“Yep. It’ll take a while to heat the whole house, and the farther the rooms are from the unit, the colder they will be. I recommend getting a newer unit sooner rather than later. I don’t have much confidence that old one will hold up much longer. You might get one more winter out of it.”
“Great. And thanks. I’ll, uh, look into new units.”
I fork over my credit card, cringing inside as he processes the payment, and finish cleaning the kitchen, feeling the most domestic I’ve ever been. With a few minutes left until sunset, I get out my notes, trying to make sense of what I know so far.
Which isn’t much.
Bryan and Gavin were both turned into vampires. Gavin has been to Delirium at least once, and Bryan might have been there. It’s a shaky foundation to build my theory on, but it’s all I have for now.
The body in the ditch had been slowly drained of blood over the course of a few days, and the body in the park was ripped into like it was done by a starving animal. Desperate. Messy. They got caught.
The first body was far from fresh, making me think it had been a few days since the vampires had eaten, hence the attack in the park. I’m certain if the gargoyles hadn’t killed the vampires, they’d be out again tonight and I’d have another dead, bloodless victim to find in the morning.
If Gavin, Bryan, and the unknown vampire were the only three new vamps in town, did that buy me some time? I might very well have pissed off someone as old and powerful as Hasan himself, and that might work in my favor. People do stupid things out of anger. I’m sure vampires do, too.
I turn off the alarm on my phone, grab my jacket, and go outside to wait for the gargoyles to wake up. I saw the transformation yesterday and it amazes me just as much again today. They wake at the same time, and all jump down to the ground around me.
Jacques is a foot in front of me and, like the others, looks more human than ever today. His chocolate eyes are so vivid I could drown in them. I blink, and a vision of him naked and on top of me flashes through my head. He looks away at the same time. Did he see it, too?
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey?” Hasan asks.
“It means ‘hi.’ Not hay like what horses eat.”
Hasan raises one eyebrow. “Then why not say ‘hi?’”
“I don’t really know. We just say ‘hey’ now.”
“What’d you bring to eat?” Thomas asks.
“Nothing,” I say guiltily, feeling the intensity of his gaze. It felt so good to be wrapped up in his arms last night. “I can order takeout to be delivered. Chinese food sounds good.”
“China,” Jacques mumbles with familiarity.
“That place is actually old enough you might remember it. But not from the food. The takeout I get has been Americanized a lot.” I wave my hand. “Let’s go in.” The four men follow me inside.
“What is that God-awful noise?” Gilbert looks around.
“The heater.” I take his hand and hold it over an old radiator. “Feel.”
“It’s warm!”
I laugh. “Yeah, it fills the house with warm air.”
They all take turns feeling the heat. I stand back, watching, and then start laughing.
“Are you all right?” Jacques looks at me like I’ve lost it.
“Yeah.” I wipe away a tear. “It’s just this whole situation is so not funny that it actually is.”
Jacques looks at his brothers in question. They don’t get it either. “So why are you laughing?”
“To keep myself from crying.” I shake my head. “I’m fine, really. I’ll order the food.”
Going into the kitchen, I take my jacket off and hang it on the back of the chair and order the food online.
“The other vampire—Gavin—had been to the bar,” I start, pointing to his photo. “I talked to his girlfriend and she said they’d gone to Delirium a few weeks before he went missing. Can just anyone be turned into vampires?”
All eyes fall on Jacques. “If the sire is strong enough, yes.”
“And if not?” I ask.
“They’d die. The actual process of going from human to vampire is full of dark magic, and I don’t know exactly what happens. There’s an exchange of blood, and the sire has to bury himself under the earth during the three days of the new moon.”
I blink. “I was not expecting that. And we have like what…ten days until the next new moon?”
“You keep track of the moon cycles?” Thomas asks.
“Yeah, well, kind of. Crime rates go up around the full moon. Even before, when I didn’t think magic was real, there was no denying something about the full moon made people crazy.”
“At least there’s one thing that hasn’t changed.” Gilbert picks up a full-page photo of the body found in the ditch. “This is a very impressive drawing.”
“It’s a photograph.” I dig my phone from my back pocket. “Watch this.” I lean in next to Gilbert and take a selfie, then flip the phone around to show him. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete it. Though if anyone saw it, they’d assume it was fake.”
“Delete?” Gilbert asks distantly, enamored by the picture.
“Get rid of.” I rack my brain trying to think of the best way to explain this and come up short.
It’s confusing enough to explain it to elderly folk who at least already know what a phone and a camera are.
“The phone has memory and can store things like photographs. But don’t worry about it.
I’m sure you’ll get used to everything.”
Hasan scowls at the phone. “Is it magic?”
“The opposite of magic.”
“Technology,” Jacques quips.
“Right.” I stifle a laugh. “But back to the vampires…how do they decide who to, uh, eat?”
“From what I understand,” Jacques starts, “they go for what is easiest. Which is basically any human. You are no match for a vampire.”
“Yeah.” I subconsciously bring my hand to the side of my head. “I know.”
“Are you still in pain?”
“No, but I still feel drained of energy. If I really am using magic, how long will it take to get used to this?”
Jacques shakes his head. “I do not know.”
“Why do you know so much about vampires, but know nothing about magic?”
“I didn’t typically deal with magic.”
I wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. “But you typically dealt with vampires?”
“No, not often.”
“But sometimes?” I press, not sure if he’s purposely ignoring the shock in my voice or if he really doesn’t understand the rarity dealing with vampires is.
“Yes, sometimes. Mostly, we were called upon to handle demonic possession and assist with exorcisms.”
“Exorcisms,” I echo. “Was this before or after you were cursed?”
“After.”
I inhale. Exhale. My mind goes back to what the fuck mode. “So you four were like the supernatural police.”
Thomas laughs. “Being cursed exposed us to other monsters. Physically, our humanity was gone, but in here”—he taps his head—“we still knew what was going on.”
Gilbert makes a face. “And we were bound to the sorcerer. We didn’t have much of a choice other than to do his bidding.”
“And his bidding was to kill other monsters?” I ask carefully.
“Yes.” Hasan’s voice booms through the large house. “Who better to kill monsters than other monsters.”
I sit at the table and start gathering up my papers.
The guys were cursed, blamed for a death they had nothing to do with, and the curse turned them into medieval Robocops.
The curse had a purpose. I twist a loose strand of hair over my shoulder.
Understanding the reasoning behind the curse might help me break it.
“Are you all right, Ace?” Jacques asks quietly.
“I’m trying to deal with everything, mentally.
” I pull the hair tie from my wrist, gathering my long locks into a messy bun at the nape of my neck.
“And not feel overwhelmed in the process.” I let out a breath in an attempt not to overthink.
From finding the vampire sire to deciding what to do with this house and my apartment, I’m close to a nervous breakdown.