Crescendo

Chapter 3 - The Never Ending Dance

Chapter 3 - The Never Ending DanceI opened the quart jar of stewed tomatoes and poured them into the pot of soup and watched the chunks of tomatoes swim around the heavy cast iron pot while stirring it. The memory of when Constance and I had taken our harvest of tomatoes in our respective gardens and had canned them—forty-eight quarts—interrupted all other pressing thoughts. I was able to step back in time when none of this had been my reality—way before I had begun thinking about getting a job, and vampire was not in my vocabulary. We had divided the quarts up equally. I actually didn't think I would use twenty-four jars of tomatoes because my father had died a few months ago, and I was living alone. But tonight I had a house full of men. Not all would be eating my beef soup, but a few of them were humans who were hungry and would greatly appreciate my cooking, such as it was.

Quist and Fritz's voices filtered out to me over Christmas tunes playing on the CD player in the corner. I smiled. It was good to hear human voices joking and carousing in this house again. I'd missed it terribly.

Earlier, we didn't do any hi-fives when we returned to my house, about two hours ago. Some of the people in that bar had been hurt bad by the vampires. I wasn't at all sure how the big biker guy would be, whose tongue was bitten off by Darla. Dante had informed me moments after we'd returned that he'd stayed with them—invisible—to see the aftermath. As our spy, Dante was more than just useful, he was necessary to our survival. He was the eyes needed to find vampire nests, or attacks when they happened, or know what they were cooking up and the enemy had no idea how we did it. Being an Undead was handy in that way, I suppose.

“Sabrina?” Fritz called.

“What?” I called back, returning the heavy lid to the pot of soup.

“Come and see the tree. We're going to light it up.”

“Okay.” I reduced the flames under my pot of soup and stepped into the living room where they had re-arranged the furniture. Vasyl appeared as if out of nowhere. His hand went around my waist as I joined the others in the living room. Hobart stood next to the wall, hand on the light switch.

Fritz was on his knees with the plug end of the Christmas lights, ready to plug it in to the socket. I stifled a chuckle as some bit of tinsel had clung to his nappy black hair and, filled with static, moved with his motions around the tree. It looked like a metallic worm doing a strange dance on his head.

“Ready?” Quist said, near a lamp, looking at both Fritz and Hobart.

“Ready!” They called out.

“Lights please.”

The lights went out, and suddenly the Christmas tree was lit up. He had used an amazing color arrangement of green, red, and purple that gave the tree a dark, haunting look.

We all gasped appreciatively.

“Oh, I forgot,” Fritz said and suddenly, a white strand of lights sprinkled in with the mix went on.

“Oh! Beautiful!” I gasped.

“It is tradition, no?” Vasyl said, gesturing toward the tree.

“Yes,” I said.

“OMG!” Fritz cried. “He's never seen a Christmas tree before?”

“No. I have not,” Vasyl said.

“Where do you live? In a barn?” Fritz asked.

“Oui. It is a very comfortable barn,” Vasyl defended, his lips making that French quirky thing, which I found sexy.

Quist and Fritz exchanged glances. They had come into my life only a few weeks ago, but I felt as though I'd known them all my life. Quist was part elf, and had a daring side I hadn't known of until tonight. His wanting to come with us to “kill vampires”, had unsettled me slightly. His father had invented the laser wand. What Quist used was the older version to behead vampires and demons.

Fritz didn't do any sort of fighting, but he loved to decorate. Both he and Quist had brought a dozen brightly gift wrapped presents to go beneath the tree. Hobart had cut the tree from a local tree farm and brought over to my house this afternoon. A werewolf, he had become my guardian in the past few months after seeking my help in locating one of his own members who wound up shooting himself after stealing the werewolf gang's money.

“Only now he lives here,” I said, in answer to Fritz' question, smoothing my hand over my husband's arm. Vasyl leaned toward me, our lips met in a quick kiss, and I got tingles up my spine.

Embarrassed, I turned back into the room and felt that odd sensation that told me someone else had arrived. At the same time, Vasyl's body stiffened, and he moved in front of me as a barrier.

Stepping out of the gloom of the dining room, a dark shadow with long, black hair appeared, and at once, began speaking as though he'd been here the whole time.

“The humans have been taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital,” Dante reported, strolling into the living room. He stopped and looked around. “Why are all the lights off?”

I gestured to the Christmas tree.

“Oh,” he said, glancing at it. “Nice.”

“Someone get the lights, please,” I said.

Quist was closest to the lamp, and turned it on. The room became a little brighter. Fritz rose and turned on another lamp.

“What about their memories? Were they wiped?” I asked.

“The elves worked as quickly as they could, then vanished before the paramedics arrived.”

I turned to Quist. His blue gaze met mine. “It doesn't take them long to wipe memories, and give them new ones,” he informed.

“Good,” I said, my glance falling onto the dark TV. I could imagine what the evening news would reveal about what happened to a dozen people in a bar in Batavia. I wasn't sure how they would explain the guy with the bitten-off tongue, though. I shivered as nausea hit me at the memory of all the blood I had seen, and the thought of loosing a tongue by having it bitten off by a vampire—or anyone for that matter. I shivered, making a disgusted sound. Vasyl's arm went around me.

“There's something else I must speak to you about,” Dante said, looking directly at me.

I waited. His gray eyes glanced over the others in the room. His hair was arranged in a loose braid, fastened with a leather thong at the end. He had been my lover when he was alive. After dying, and still in love with me, he was able to return as an Undead a few weeks ago to rescue me from the vampires of a planet called The Black Veil. He's been with me ever since—but at a respectable distance.

“What is it?” I prompted.

“It is a private matter,” he said, eyes darting from me to Vasyl and back again.

“Sacreblu,” Vasyl said. “There are no secrets between us.” And, as if to reinforce that statement, he kissed the top of my head and readjusted his hold on me. There, see? I own her.

Men.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” I said and pulled away from Vasyl's python grasp. “I'm going to go into the next room,” I told Vasyl, stepping away. “I'll see what he wants, and I'll be back.”

“Leave the door open,” Vasyl said. He would not trust me alone with Dante, for maybe the next fifty years.

Dante followed me. I stopped and turned. “Fritz, could you go ahead and serve up the soup? I know you guys are hungry.”

“No problem, Sabrina,” Fritz said, and happily he, Hobart, and Quist headed for the kitchen.

Closed off by two French doors, the den had once been what was called a parlor of my circa 1910 farm house. I presumed it was where people sat and visited, back in the day. There was a fireplace in there, too, and on crisp winter nights like these, when the wind was out of the northwest, a fire would help keep the house warmer. I had not thought of getting a fire going, as I'd been a tad busy.

Dante headed into the room before me. I stepped in ten seconds after and found him before the fireplace. A fire ignited like magic. He was a shaman when alive, but also Undeads had a lot of magic at their disposal.

“Wow. I didn't know you could do that,” I said, looking at him in surprise.

He turned back to me. “My powers are coming alive in me, more and more. Those powers that I would have had, eventually, had I lived long enough as a shaman.”

“So I see,” I said, moving toward the now blazing fireplace. I held my hands toward the warm flames. The room's chill made it feel as though the front door was standing wide open. “The fire will warm this room up. Brrrr.”

“I no longer feel cold, heat, pain…”

“But isn't that to be expected?” I said. Dante was always able to shield my Knowing. Now that he was an Undead, all the better his tricks to keep me from reading him. I couldn't read any vampire. Humans were easy. I was not only a touch clairvoyant, I was also the sibyl with my own bag of tricks.

Dante's smile tipped his lips. “It takes a little getting used to.”

“What's so private you wanted to tell me?”

“It isn't that I wanted to tell you something private as to get you away from the others so that we may speak.” He shifted on his feet and faced me. “Vasyl would have made his usual insults and I wouldn't have been able to get a word out,” He finished.

“Okay.” He was right about that.

His hands landed on my shoulders and he looked into my eyes. “You cannot allow your brother and his wife to remain outside of your loop any longer. It's dangerous for them to not know about the vampires.”

Ashamed, my gaze fell. “I don't know how to break it to them.” I looked up into his intelligent face, gazed into magnetic gray eyes. “How do I tell them that vampires exist, and that one lives in my house? That I'm married to him. This is beyond their belief system.”

“You must find a way to make them believe. Time is working against you. I've told you what Ilona plans. Don't lull yourself into believing she would leave the rest of your family alone. Especially after tonight. You've dropped the gauntlet with what we've just done. There's no way a vampire is not going to answer to a challenge like that.”

“I have been thinking about it. But I don't know how to explain things to them.”

“You need to tell them about the vampires, even if you can't tell them who, or what you are right now. You need to warn them, educate them about the possibility that they could become targets.”

“Tell them to carry around crucifixes and stay indoors at night, lock their doors and don't open it to anyone? I don't see that I have that sort of power to convince them.”

“Introduce Vasyl to them. No matter what, you must introduce him to them, anyway.”

“Randy will need more than telling. He'll need to be shown.”

“Then, have Vasyl do something to convince them. I'm sure he'll think of something.”

“What? Have Vasyl bite some animal? That would horrify them!”

“No, there are other things Vasyl can do. He can disappear, or change into something, like an animal or a bird.”

“Or show them his wings.” My head sagged. Dante brought my chin up with a finger.

“Their lives are at stake. All of them. Ilona will not stop at your brother and his wife. I've heard that she has fed on, and turned children in the past.”

My eyes went wide, a loud intake of air filled my lungs until I let it ease out. I thought of Jana and Tera, my little nieces. I couldn't imagine how their minds would cope with the horrible things a vampire could do to them, or their parents.

“You're right, of course. I don't want to scare their girls.”

“Have them come over by themselves, your brother and sister-in-law. They can find someone to babysit for a few minutes. Tell them this is a life or death situation and you need to speak with them.”

“You should babysit them,” I suggested, smiling.

“I'd love to, and not as a dog this time.” We both chuckled.

“I'll think of something.” There was a pause in our conversation. He seemed morose. “Are you okay? Do you need to—um—feed?”

He smiled, his hands ran slowly up and down my arms. “I've fed, if that's what you're asking.”

“Just now?” My face suddenly warmed and I couldn't look back up at him.

“Believe it or not, vampires still have souls. I fed on those we killed.”

“Oh!” I grimaced, now embarrassed even more. I didn't like the idea that Dante could feed on souls of anything that died in his presence. He also fed through s*x. Somehow. He had to feed in order to become, or remain a physical being. I didn't know which bothered me more. He would have had to find a donor to have s*x with, somewhere. He told me one was Cilia Kline, one of the blood dolls for Lonny Pennyweather. He could be there in a blink, although she was all the way in Colorado Springs.

“You have visitors,” he said, kissing my hands quickly. “I must go. If you need me, I will be here.” He turned away, and disappeared, as if he went through an invisible door. The sudden change in the atmosphere made me blink, and a few strands of my hair was displaced by a small breeze. The aroma of his pine-scent, suddenly gone, made me sad.

“SABRINA!” The shout came from the other room from both Quist and Fritz. “Someone is here!”

Making a disparaging sound, “—Crap—” I turned and headed back into the living room, and closed the French door. It would be a while before the fire would warm that room up enough.

“Who—” I began but was cut across.

“OMG!” Fritz cried, peeking out the window in the door. “Is that a stretch Humvee?”

He and Quist were both looking out the window next to the door. Vasyl was looking out the picture window, pushing aside the drapes.

“Crap. Is that the brother?” Quist asked.

“Whose brother?” I asked, clueless.

“I shall find out,” Vasyl said, and vanished.

I bent to look out the nearest window. Vasyl reappeared outside in the snow. The black vehicle in my drive certainly was a huge, stretch Humvee. It looked mean, and capable of conquering the drifting snow outside with those huge snow tires and high clearance. This could only have been sent from Tremayne's garage. No one else I knew had the money for such a vehicle. And my enemies would not announce themselves quite so lavishly.

Quist and Fritz stood back from the door when it opened. Vasyl entered first. Snow covered his bare feet and half-way up his pant legs. I hadn't been around to remove the snow on the steps or in the drive. In fact none of us had been. We were basically snowed in, but for the fact that Quist and I could travel ley lines and take whoever with us worked well enough for the past few days and nights.

Behind Vasyl a vampire strode in whose face resembled his twin brother's, Leif. For the initial two seconds of his entrance it made my heart kick with fear. But, I knew instinctively it was Heath, and calmed myself. He wore a black suit jacket over a black crew-neck sweater. A red button pinned to his lapel with white lettering read, “GOT BLOOD?” I had to give that pause, too. Vampire humor.

“Heath? What brings you out here? Is everything okay?” I asked.

“I'm to give you this,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket and producing an envelope. It was exquisite thick parchment, with a red wax seal on it. Well, well…

I took the envelope, glancing at him, unsure. Vasyl stood behind me looking over my shoulder.

“Open it, Sabrina. That seal is Tremayne's, you'll notice, and no one has trifled with it,” Heath assured.

I stepped into the living room with everyone traveling along with me like they were all on leashes. I turned on another light near the desk, noticing that my name was scribbled on the front of the envelope in shaky handwriting.

Upon opening it, I found a page of matching parchment inside, folded thrice. I opened it and tried to read the scribblings. The lettering was wiggly, and some words collided with those on the next line. Some lines slanted up, some down. It was as if a child on a bumpy carnival ride had written it. I looked up at Heath.

“Is this from Tremayne?” I asked. “'Coz I can't tell.”

“Please, won't you read it, first, Sabrina?”

I glanced back at the letter and then had to squint and struggled to read the lines and words. I had to re-read some of it over a few times.

Dear Sabrina,

By the time you have possession of this letter, I will be a few hours further into my eventual death.

Unless you come to me, as I have made plans for you, I will be dead, I am told I may have only twenty-four to forty-eight hours left.

Please, come help me

I beseech you, as a friend,

Tremayne

My eyes were burning with tears and my stomach tightened in a sickening knot as I read and understood his scribblings. His scrawled signature at the end flew off the page. I felt the letter's urgency, and knew I must do something to un-do what had been done to him.

I looked up at Heath. “What should I do?” I said, tears filling my eyes. “How do I get to him?”

“You're to come with me,” Heath said. “He really needs you. No one else can save him.”

“No!” Vasyl stepped between myself and Heath, him being much larger, and so menacing even I stepped back from him, fearing he might unsheathe his wings. “She does not have to go anywhere! She stays!”

Coming to my senses, I ran around to get between the two vampires. “Vasyl! Stop!” I said, palms out. I hoped that he would not put Heath out on his ear, because it certainly looked like he was ready to. Eyes larger than normal, which looked scary, Vasyl's body shook as though holding himself back like a vicious dog behind a fence. His lips were pulled back in a snarl.

“It's partially my fault that Tremayne is dying,” I explained, my voice harsh. Actually, it was because my dagger had poisoned his blood, but Dante was the one who had wielded it and plunged it into his chest. None of us knew that at the time when it happened. As a matter of fact, I hadn't told anyone else about this, so Tremayne didn't know that Dante had been behind it. He simply assumed that the dagger was acting in my defense against a vampire. I felt it was moot at this point. I'd given him my blood right afterwards, which was nearly two weeks ago. Last I'd heard he was doing fine. Apparently things had taken a turn for the worse.

I pushed, but Vasyl wouldn't budge. Heath stepped back and regarded me. His puppy-dog brown eyes looking hopeful.

I turned to Vasyl. “If Tremayne dies Nicolas will take over. Do you want that?” I turned back to Heath. “Where is he? Tremayne?”

“That I'm not privileged to know. What I do know is that I'm to take you to the airport and from there you will be taken to Tremayne.”

“Should I pack? Change? Do I have time to eat? Will there be food on the flight?” my questions came rapidly out of my mouth. I already had a vision of a small jet. The runway looked like it was out in the boonies, not in the city.

“No. You don't have time to do any of that. You will not be there that long, I don't think, so you don't need to pack.”

My stomach growled. I was looking forward to my homemade soup. Oh, well.

“Okay,” I said. “I'll get my boots on and my coat.” I turned. My vampire husband stood like a wall in my path.

“Sabrina, why are you going to him? Every time you do, your life is threatened. If you never went to him to begin with, you would not be in as much trouble as you are,” Vasyl said.

“And he'd probably be alive and well, and not at death's doorstep,” I argued.

He spun away, sputtering. “I do not understand this relationship you have with Tremayne. Why do you trouble yourself so?”

“I don't know,” I said, moving around him to grab my coat off the hook. “It's like he and I are locked into this survival struggle. I can't survive as a sibyl without him, and he won't survive the night if I don't give him my blood, or whatever else he needs right now.” I pulled on my snow boots over my blue jean-clad legs and zipped them up.

Vasyl's hands went up in surrender, spouting excited French.

“It's like some strange dance of life and death, and the song just never ends,” I went on, more or less ignoring Vasyl as he kept muttering and walking in circles, hands flying up every other step. I'd never been able to put it quite so simply until now. The funny thing was, it was true, and I knew Tremayne needed me right now more than I needed him. I couldn't refuse to help anyone in need of my services. Not even a vampire magnate, who was also my boss, who had a craving for my blood because it gave him a high like no human blood could. Such is my life.