Demon Jack (12 page)

“Um. Stay calm,” I said.

“Oh you are breathtaking in a crisis, Jack,” Alice said.

“Can’t you untie us?” Lucy asked, looking at Alice.

“No, my dear, I can’t,” Alice said.

The opening of the door stopped the rest of the conversation dead in its tracks.

Adam was not what most people thought of when they heard the word ‘vampire’. Years of pop culture had turned vampires from nightmare to fantasy. It seemed like nowadays the word vampire conjured up this notion of beautifully tragic sex gods of the night, prancing around in frilly shirts in New Orleans or Paris. They saw vampires as poor, tortured creatures enslaved by a hunger they could never control, driven by a bestial impulse that they would never be able to reign in and suffering under the weight of it.

That couldn’t be further from the truth.

Vampires are, in truth, voracious, merciless predators. They aren’t beautiful, they aren’t tragic, and they sure as hell aren’t sex gods of any stripe or variety. They are more like great whites with the ability to think and plan. They were strong enough to punch clean through six inches of concrete and make it look easy. Hungry, they were harder to stop than an Abrams tank. Sunlight won’t kill them; it'll just slow them down. A stake through the heart is an annoyance. Garlic, crosses, and things of that ilk are useless. The only way I knew to kill them, was either set them on fire or hammer them with so much damage that there was no coming back from it. Decapitation was a winner on that front, maybe drawing and quartering.

“Hello, Jackson. It’s been a while,” Adam said. His voice was strange, completely devoid of an accent. It made him sound almost mechanical, save for the note of hunger echoing in his tone.

“Adam.”

Adam looked like a malnourished youth in his mid teens, maybe sixteen or seventeen. I knew for a fact he was at least four times that old. He was small, maybe five feet at best and weighed literally half of what I did. He was all spindly limbs set with knobby, protruding joints. It gave his movements a spider like appearance. His skin was the color of yellowing parchment. He wore black jeans and an untucked red dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was bald, his face stark and angular, eyes set deep in skeletal sockets. His fingers ended in vicious, gleaming black talons, each one extending from a digit that looked an inch or two longer than human and carried an extra knuckle. I could see a string of numbers tattooed into the inside of his forearm, a memento from his mortal days when he’d been a resident of one of the Nazi’s camps during World War II. Rumor had it, that’s where he had been turned. The thralls followed him, fanning out into a line against the wall and door behind us. Cataract filmed eyes looked from me to Lucy, then back again.

He sat on the desk beside Alice, which under different circumstances might have been at least a little amusing since he couldn’t see her.

“We have a debt to settle, Jackson, and I’m being generous by not just tearing your throat out on principal. Do keep that in mind throughout this conversation.”

“No, Adam, we don’t,” I said quietly.

“But we do. You killed my last childe. Do you remember that?”

“Vaguely,” I said.

“Vaguely,” he growled.

He moved, his motion too fast to track. One moment he was sitting on the top of his desk, the next he had me by the throat, easily holding me in the air with one misshapen hand. He held me almost nose to nose. His words were a cold, rattling wind against my face. I could see hundreds of teeth set in blackened gums, each one tiny and hollow like a hypodermic needle. They were insanely sharp and coated with a thin yellow neurotoxin. I gagged, fighting for breath. My chest, my lungs, burnt with oxygen deprivation. I could hear a rushing sound in my ears, a gentle roar that turned into the steady hammering of my heartbeat.

“You. Killed. Her. Jack.” Each word a statement in itself. “You burnt her alive. Do you remember it now? Is it still vague? Do you remember her screaming when you doused her with gasoline? My screaming when you struck the match? Do you remember it now? Do you remember taking away the only thing that brought me any solace?”

I tried to say something smart-assed in response. I wanted to chime in that a monster like him didn't deserve solace, but the words were conveniently stopped at the vise like grip around my windpipe. He stared at me for a long second and I could feel the blood in my face turning it a bright, hot scarlet. He offered a smile, small, almost sweet, and then dropped me.

I hit the floor with a thump, groaning as I sucked in massive gouts of air. My throat felt hot and swollen, each breath a struggle to fill my lungs. I lay there, staring at his boot clad feet. It took a minute for strength to return to my limbs, but I managed to rise once more to my knees and stare up at the Vampire.

“Yeah, it’s starting to come back to me now.”

“Glad to hear it. As I was saying, you owe me a debt,” Adam said with a wide, predatory grin. I could see the small rivulets of poison running from his fangs and over his lips. He walked to Lucy and crouched down next to her. He rested his elbows on his knees, and sighed quietly, feigning resignation. His fingers, long and spidery, brushed the hair from her face. She shrank from his touch, her eyes a wide panorama of terror.

“And this, I think this will settle that debt,” he said, turning towards Lucy. “Wouldn’t you agree my dear?” he asked her, his lips sliding back into a Cheshire cat grin. “Me and Jack, we’ll be even-Steven.”

Lucy struggled again against her bindings.

“Fuck you,” she hissed.

That a girl.

Adam looked towards the thralls behind us, and then nodded towards me. Instantly they were on me, pushing me to the floor. I struggled, but between the six of them holding me, their knees wedged into my back, and the chains, it was an exercise in futility.

“Jack! Oh God... Jack... Help me!” Lucy pleaded.

I tried to figure out something I could say, something that would alleviate her fear. I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. I think we both knew that'd be bullshit.

“Have you ever seen a change? Really seen it? I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard about it working with Lin and all, but have you ever actually been a witness to it? It’s really quite... traumatizing for the one changing,” Adam said. He stroked Lucy’s hair like she was a favorite pet as he talked, his eyes never leaving me.

I could see Alice standing behind him, head tilted and a look of rapt curiosity over her features. Even if she had been so inclined, I don’t think she would’ve stopped it. She looked too enraptured.

“Please don’t. I don’t want this” Lucy said, turning her attention to Adam. It was pointless pleading, as Vampires had about as much compassion as a lion with an antelope in its sights.

“Shh,” Adam chided her, “I understand your reluctance dear. Unfortunately, Jack here has condemned you without your knowing it. I know it’s not fair, but such is life as they say.” His grin widened and he turned back towards me. “Do you remember what you said to me Jack, just before you set her on fire?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“What was it?”

I stared at him.

“Answer me,” he said.

“It’s nothing personal,” I said quietly.

“Yes, well, this is very, very personal.”

“Then take it up with me.”

Adam winked at me and then leaned forward, trailing his tongue over the hollow of Lucy’s throat. He shivered in anticipation. She gasped and the sound triggered some sort of predatory reaction in the vampire. Adam’s fangs hit her throat like a snake’s strike, quick and frighteningly accurate.

He moaned when the first taste of Lucy’s blood hit his tongue. One of his hands wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him. He had made sure that when he tore into her throat, she had been facing me. He wanted me to see her eyes, see the life fading from them when he killed her.

Alice vanished, reappearing in the corner. She kept her eyes on Lucy and Adam. If the scene in front of her bothered her, she didn’t show it. She just stared, unblinking and pacing a slow circle around the two of them. The little demon took the whole scene in like a researcher, making mental notes as she paced.

“I hope she’ll still be able to see me if she survives this,” she said finally.

A small line of blood ran from the corner of Adam’s lips. Lucy stared at me, completely motionless while tears traced their way over her cheeks. I could see the light in her eyes fading, her skin growing a frightening shade of pale.

I felt the small cinder of rage ignite in my stomach.

“Adam,” I growled.

If he heard me, there was no indication. He kept his lips pressed to Lucy’s throat, uttering low moans of hungry pleasure. That was what set it off. It wasn’t enough for him to take Lucy, make her pay for my mistake. I could live with that. It would bother me, but I could live with it. I hadn’t grown attached to the girl, I’d known her all of a day tops. It was the fact he was doing it and enjoying it, mocking me with her death.

More than that, it was like he was holding up a mirror to me, giving me a reminder of just who I was, of where the choices I had made had led me. I could have stopped her from coming if I had really wanted. There were a million things I could have done, and I hadn’t done any of them. I'd brought this down on her simply because I hadn’t cared enough outside of covering my own ass to stop her from coming with me.

Adam had been right.

This one, it was on me.

In that moment, I hated myself almost as much as I hated him. Almost.

“Adam!” I said louder, clipping the word with anger.

He looked up, his lips peeling back into a crimson stained grin.

That fucking grin.

I lost it.

Completely.

The cinder of rage became an inferno. My vision went red, anger surging through my blood in a molten rush of murderous intent. My muscles, my brain, went scalding hot with adrenaline and sheer, unrestrained fury.

“Jack. This won’t help her,” Alice said.

I ignored her.

“You’re fucking dead, Adam! You hear me! Fucking dead!”

“Oh yes. I’m aware. Vampire and all,” he quipped.

Adam dropped Lucy and stood up, looming over her. She lay completely still, muscles rigid, her chest barely rising, mouth slightly open. The tears continued in a slow, steady stream. She was staring at me, unblinking and paralyzed. He lifted an arm, exposing his wrist and sliced the flesh open with a single, razor-sharp talon. Blood, thicker than human and darker in color, welled up from the cut.

“You motherfucker,” I growled.

I turned my eyes back on Lucy. She looked almost peaceful lying there. It’d be a mercy to kill her, to save her from what Adam was going to turn her into. I struggled against the chains again, tried to thrash under the combined weight of the goons holding me down. I got exactly nowhere.

“Don’t be like that, Jack. It’s unbecoming,” he said, staring at the blood. All he’d have to do is drop a single, red drop onto her lips and the change would start. I hadn’t ever seen one, but I knew the mechanics.

“I mean, after all, this is your doing. We had a gentlemen’s agreement, Jack. I’m just the instrument of your actions.”

For the next second, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The slow turn of his wrist, the first single drop of blood gathering over the wound, becoming heavier and then falling as gravity took hold. It hung in the air for what seemed a veritable eternity, before beginning an agonizingly slow descent. It hit her lips and I could see the droplet exploding in a tiny crimson splash. Another drop followed, and then another, slipping past her lips and into her mouth.

Somewhere far away and distant, I heard Alice sigh. It was a sound like dried bones being tossed over dead leaves. The thralls moaned, all six at the same time, in some weird stereophonic sound of something that bordered on sexual pleasure.

For a moment nothing happened, and then the change hit Lucy’s system like an electric current, hard enough to snap the zip ties that bound her ankles and wrists. A seizure grabbed her, sending her body into a fit of convulsions. Every one of her muscles began trembling and then spasming, slamming her limbs violently against the floor. Her back arched, mouth flying open. A scream tore out of her, something ragged, pained, and desperate. Her fingernails, already lengthening and darkening to perfect black, ripped long tears through the thick carpet.

I didn’t bother to struggle against the chains anymore. Instead, I focused my eyes on Lucy. I didn’t want to watch it happen. I had to. I wanted to memorize every convulsion, every last strangled choke of pain, every single tear. I wanted it seared in my memory like a brand, because the first chance I had, I was going to impart it all back to Adam a thousand fold. I was going to make sure the little sociopath felt everything he did to her, everything she felt because of me he was going to get in spades.

Lucy rolled onto her side. She was choking, gasping for air she’d no longer need. Every part of her body was fighting desperately to hang onto her humanity at the same time it was trying to purge it, to make room for the monster she’d become. She threw up, over and over again, emptying her stomach in loud, violent heaves. The smell of vomit filling the room was enough to be almost suffocating.