Authors: Heather Bserani
Immortal Storm (14 page)
If Dori had any strength left, she surely would have shuddered as his acrid breath once again stung her face. He pressed his lips against her jaw for a moment and then licked the side of her face from jaw to temple just before he disappeared. The oily residue of his saliva lingered much longer than he did. Her eyes followed the mist as it rose into the sky and vanished into the black night.
As the sky lightened and the sun rose, the forest came to life around her. She could hear the birds rousing in their nests before they began their morning song. The squirrels began scurrying next and some rabbits dared hop into the clearing where she still lay in a heap, too close to death to move. After a while the sun peaked over the edge of the cliff and shined warm on her twisted figure. The sun’s rays were interrupted intermittently by the shadow of first one hawk overhead, but one quickly turned into many. They were screaming at one another, drowning out all other sounds. Swooping lower, they approached their next meal on the forest floor.
It wasn’t long before the feet of one o fehedf these scavengers landed a few yards away. It tentatively approached her. Her shallow breathing confused the bird and he cocked his head to the side, trying to size up what he hoped was his next meal. Another set of claws plunked to the earth and hopped toward her. It didn’t take long for the two birds to begin squabbling; she imagined siblings fighting over the last helping of dessert. Eventually a third landed even closer to her head; she couldn’t turn enough to see the bird’s face, to plead with her eyes.
Then the earth heaved and she was somewhat upright. The closest bird was no longer on the ground; it was pressed to her mouth. She hadn’t the strength to bite it, so she didn’t understand how its thick blood was running into her mouth. It didn’t matter: with her first swallow, she registered just how famished she was and she gulped fervently. As the warmth began to fill her belly, she felt her limbs wake up. Her hands grasped for more when the first was finished. Quick as lightning, another hawk was furnished and she wrapped her iron grasp around it holding it to her face violently. When she finished with her second, she was able to sneak a quick glance at Michael, who held her protectively.
“More,” was all she was able to croak out.
They hunted together, Michael carrying her until she had regained enough strength to walk and eventually run on her own again. Her muscles were sore and her skin stung where the other vampire had bitten her. The bites were still raised and red, but with the glut of new blood, they had begun to heal. Michael watched Dori in silence, sizing up her injuries, judging exactly how close to death she had come.
When they reached the edge of the forest, he gently took her in his arms and pulled her into a close embrace. He seemed troubled by the fact that he had almost lost her. She guessed by the look on his face that the hug was meant to be a consolation to both of them, but she couldn’t get the feeling of the other vampire’s touch out of her mind.
“Michael, please...” was all she uttered as she turned away. The surprise and hurt on his face were too much. How could she explain to him that not only was she hurt, she was violated too. The tears she had wanted to cry all night finally spilled down her cheeks. Her skin crawled with the memory of her attacker’s touch. She could still smell his bitter breath on her skin and her stomach heaved with the memory of his tongue on her face.
“Can we go home?” she begged, her voice no louder than a whisper. She knew she had to tell Michael the whole story, and she would, but for right now, she had to get home and wash off the disgusting memories of her attack. Even with Michael following in his own car, it was a painfully long ride. She could feel his eyes on her the whole way even without checking her rear view mirror. She was sure that he couldn’t fully imagine the horror of her assault last night. She wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. Should she tell him all of the details?
After what seemed like hours under scalding hot water, she accepted the fact that it was going to take more than soap and water to make her feel better. Despite the fact that she had gorged herself after Michael found her, she still felt a nagging sting in her veins, but decided she needed to talk to Michael before she did anything else.
He was sitting in the kitchen with his head in his hands. He looked as if he had aged, which she knew was impossible. He met her gaze inet >
Through gritted teeth Michael growled, “I have met others in this life Dori, but only a few would willingly prey on another of our kind. We have to figure out who he is and stay far away from that place.” The look in his eyes was murderous, but his posture as protective as he wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the villain in her memory.
“Do you want to rest for a few days, or do you feel well enough to go back to the ballet?” The way he asked this question made it clear that he thought the first option was the best.
“Michael, we open in a few nights, I have to be at rehearsal. If not, there are hundreds of other girls who would be happy to take my place. I have to be there.”
“I guess you’re right.” His face was long with disappointment.
* * *
A few hours later she and Addison were in the studio, warming up amidst the other corps dancers while the principal dancers were performing their solo on stage. Dori was stretching on the now-familiar grey vinyl floor while Addison was warming up at the barre. Dori sat in a way so that she could see herself in the full length mirror while also watching the others in the room. She wanted to be able to watch her own expression, anxious that her face would give away the terror she was still feeling. For the first time, she felt small in the large room. When the stage music was silent, the high ceilings in the room caused even the softest sounds to echo slightly.
The dancers stretched out their kinks and warmed up their muscles in the hush of the early morning, each lost in their own thoughts. Dori was jarred back to the present as a fellow dancer stampeded in shaking a newspaper at Addison.
“Addison, did you see the paper this morning? It happened again.” Addison didn’t reply, but as she registered what her colleague was saying, her face blanched.
“It says here that the park rangers have confirmed that the attack was similar to your”-suddenly the blabbering ballerina became aware of the dozens of other dancers listening-“well, they say here it was like other situations.”
Addison still said nothing, but a muscle flexed in her jaw. Absentmindedly, her hands fluttered to her hair, playing with flyaway wisps that weren’t there. She turned toward the bar, swallowed hard and began some quick
sautés
. When Corinne realized Addison wasn’t going to discuss the matter, she turned her attention to the other dancers.
“What else does it say, Corinne?” That was all the invitation she needed. Corinne scurried over to a group of dancers stretching on the floor and dove intr aize="3o the details.
“It says here that shortly after dawn the park rangers happened upon an area where they think another attack happened. There were trees and rocks strewn everywhere, clearly signs of a struggle, right? So nearby there were all of these dead birds, but if it had been an animal that killed them they would have eaten them for food. A park ranger is quoted as saying it looks like they were just ripped open and tossed aside. It’s clearly the work of someone sick. They are already saying it looks like other attacks that have been reported in those woods.” Corinne paused to look at Addison. “The paper says if anyone knows anything they are to call the police with information.”
Dori knew all too well about the monster in the woods. She subconsciously rubbed at her arms, feeling the marks where she had been bitten. Venturing a glance at her friend, she saw Addison biting her lip and frantically practicing on her
relèvés
. Dori could hear her heart racing. She was clearly upset. Protective of her friend, Dori was instantly angry at Corinne for flaunting the upsetting news. It seemed to Dori that somehow, Addison knew something about the vampire that attacked her, and it wasn’t good. Dori tucked her legs underneath her, stood and walked over to her friend.
“Hey girl, how about you help me with my
fouetté
turns? Let’s go somewhere where it isn’t so crowded.” Addison finally stopped working her feet and made eye contact with Dori. Her eyes were full of tears, but she smiled. The two headed toward a different studio to finish warming up for the day.
Chapter Sixteen
May 2, 1598
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of deathe, I fear no evil. Barwicke has founde me out nearly every eve and has punished me for my attempte on his life. He brings me within a whisper of demise and leaves me to heal, only to repeat the torture the following nighte. It seems to be his new favorite activitie. For the pain I endure, at leaste he is aiding in my quest for his downfall. He has indeed shown me many ways that a vampire cannot be killed.
I have found myselfe becoming hardened toward things that used to bring me happiness. It is futile to look for joy when I can never experience it again. I no longer feel I am being punished, that would mean there was something to be learned. Rather, I am being trained. Every interaction with the hunter brings me closer to finding his weakness. Even though I am damned by God above, I will not hesitate to exact His will and smite the bringer of Evil, the Devil
’
s henchman, my Master, Mr. Barwicke.
To this end, I know that no amount of dismemberment can kill the undead. As if by sheer will to survive, those pieces will draw together again and reanimate, leaving a rather angry vampire. Holy water burns like acid, but is simply an annoyance and wields no power over our being. Salt is better used at seasoning meat for those who consume such to maintain their humanitie. Impossible it is to strangle or choke the life from us as we do not require aire to fuel our bodies. Even when drained of bloode, we continue to exist, albeit quite painfully, until an errant cIe lreature errs in its path. Instinct will drive us to feed upon anything that wanders too closely to our teeth.
Most painful was when Barwicke sent his minions to bludgeon me, leaving nary a bone unbroken. The pain filled my vision, my veins, my mind, but ever so slowly, I felt the fibers of my being weave themselves back together. I was left to heal and I dragged myself to the nearest trenche to hide away until the morrow. Nigh, all of these are insufficient ways to bring an end to the undead. Alas, I wonder if my search is in vain. I fear that Barwicke may best me before I succeed in my queste.
The light grows dim and I fear he has already begun tonight
’
s search.
Chapter Seventeen
The week before the show was appropriately called Hell Week. Rehearsals were longer and everyone was on edge, brimming with nerves and anticipation. Dori found this week to be a challenge she would happily meet. Her body had since healed from the attack, but her mind was still reeling. She couldn’t help the continuous barrage of thoughts that kept attacking her. No matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay, snapshots of her flight and her anonymous attacker kept popping into her head. Only Hell Week could absorb her fully enough to drive away the images that plagued her. She welcomed the distraction and threw herself into rehearsal with an unparalleled gusto that was earning her a lot of attention from the other dancers and even the director.
“I don’t know...how you have the stamina...to dance like this... all day, Dori!” Addison’s words were punctuated by her gasping for air.
“I just let go and put my very soul out there for everyone to see. Trust me. It’s not at all easy.” No need to tell Addison that she was trying to chase away the boogieman or that she had unfair physical advantages over the human species in general.
Finally the director ended the rehearsal and the company headed toward the dressing rooms. The dancers walked in silence, too tired to even speak. Dori followed Addison into the claustrophobic room which was lined with mirrors, a low counter and spherical light bulbs framing each ballerina’s dressing area. In the center of the far wall, obscuring Addison’s nook, a gigantic bouquet of flowers had appeared. Splashes of color painted the bouquet, which was so plentiful that the blossoms hung over into Dori’s dressing area as well. Their perfume saturated the small room, which was now full of giddy and buzzing ballerinas.
“Oh! Who are they from?” asked an eager member of the corps.
“I don’t rightly know,” Addison’s thick drawl filled the space. It was hard to tell which was bigger, the bouquet or her smile. “I bet my daddy sent them.”
It was funny to Dori to hear a woman refer to her father as “Daddy”, but apparently it was a southern thing. Addison was looking for the card that accompanied the gift amidst the jealous whispers of the other girls. Finally, lifting a gerbera daisy the size of a saucer, in geshe found a card tucked away. Addison tore it open, too excited to contain herself.
“My Dearest Addison –
The angels are surely jealous of your grace and beauty. I, however, am happy to take it in. Break a leg!
-- Percy”
Closing her eyes, Addison sighed and clutched the card to her chest. She opened her eyes again and reread the card.
