Neophyte / Adept (2 page)

“You mean, other than the fact that Marek tried to kill
you?” he said.

Here I had to prevent myself from blushing. I hid behind my
cup of coffee. Lennox was mesmerized once more by our fingertips. I pulled mine
away from him.

When Marek had touched me, a kind of spark had happened. There
was only one other character I had encountered that sensation with: Lennox
himself. It was one of the things I wanted to know about. It was magic, or
magical. It wasn’t the touch of a killer with his prey.

The blood retreated from my face...
It was sexual
.

Lennox said, “His intentions are selfish. They always have
been. But that isn’t why I’m worried about him talking to the Lenoir.”

“It’s not?”

Lennox sighed. “You said you wanted to know more about us.
About vampires.”

“Yes please,” I said. It meant binding myself to him further
and further. The more I knew, the greater the danger, the more he would have to
protect me.

Which meant that he could never leave me. My own vampire
protector.

“We have Powers,” he said, and then went to his room.

I banged on his door. “Come out here!” I said.

He reappeared, looking devastated. “Why?”

It was such a curious question... I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re still not ready to be honest with me, are you?” he said. He shut the
door again.

I banged on it some more.

“What
are
you,
Halsey Rookmaaker?” He shouted it through the door.

“I––”

It opened; he smirked and moved past me, wearing a pair of
plaid pajama bottoms. It wasn’t snuggle time, was it?

I blushed for all new reasons. He knew. Somehow he knew.
That I was–– That I––

Impossible! How could he?

I think I said something like “Huh?” Or possibly, “I don’t
know what you mean.” But playtime was over, he said.

“You know all about me. I just told you we have secret
Powers––
vampires
.” Which
I wanted to go back to, but he was adamant: I had to come clean to him, he
said. A relationship meant trust, and we had none.

When he put it like that.

“I’m a... I’m... I think I’m...”

I watched him tap his foot. When did this happen?

“I think I might be a... well, a...”

“I’ve never met a well a before,” he said, being all
annoying and good-looking.

“A witch,” I said.

“I know,” he said.

He was superiorly smug. “I’ve known for ages. I even saw you
float.”

“I what?”

“You know? Up in the air? It was a dead giveaway, by the
way. People are usually uncomfortable when they find out they are dating the
undead, but not you.”

“That’s only because, well, I knew what you were, before you
told me,” I said.

“That makes two of us,” said Lennox. He had that smug smirk
on his face. I either wanted to punch it off or cover it in kisses. But why was
he being so nonchalant?

“So you don’t mind? That I’m a... witch?” I said.

“Believe me, you are. And not at all. In fact, I think I
love you.”

It was the first time he had used the L-word. I blushed for
a third time. Suddenly he was coming toward me and I was surrounded by his skin
scent. “But we have to go back to your Powers,” I said. I had seen his strength
and invulnerability––and, of course, he could devastate me with a
single look, but if these Agonies were anything like what they sounded like,
not every Immortal could claim that superpower. I didn’t mind if I died. But I
wouldn’t let Lennox. I needed him too much.

“There’s
thrall
,
which is a major one,” he said. “It’s a power of convincing. But there’s also
other ones, and they range from the mundane to the supercomplex. And they’re
developed to such an extent that some vampires are more powerful than other
ones. And age is important.”

“When you say you’re worried about Marek
talking––”

“The Lenoir have mind readers, very powerful vampires who
can tear confessions out of even the most tight-lipped vampires out there.”

“What about humans?” I asked. I noticed my faux pas
immediately. Lennox did not.

I was glad, because I wanted him to know that I thought of
him as a person: even if he drank blood, it didn’t mean that he had lost his
soul. Besides, Lennox didn’t do that sort of thing. He didn’t kill human
beings. If I was looking for proof of his humanity, I didn’t have to look any
further. But he could slip. With me, for instance. When he got that look.

But we had not been intimate. Not yet. Not in that way.

“They don’t need any upgrades, vampires. They can do
anything they want to you people.”

Warning me again. I flinched involuntarily

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he said.

But something had occurred to me. “It’s like discovering you
have gifts. Like... puberty, almost, isn’t it? Like your voice is changing, and
stuff. You’re growing in your wisdom teeth. Lennox,” I said, “you’re coming
into your Powers!”

“Only if I survive the Agonies,” he said. “Then, yes, I
suppose I will have new Powers.”

I suddenly had a million questions I wanted to have
answered. Particularly about his family. For hadn’t all of the Venice vampires
passed the Agonies.

“There are only two of them,” said Lennox. “Dallace and
Camille.”

That didn’t answer my question.

“I suppose Dallace would be
perceptive
. Camille is, well, you’ll see what I mean.”

So we
were
going
to meet them? “And soon,” said Lennox. “But I still want you here to myself. At
least for one day more.”

Nervousness and excitement battled within my breast.
Nervousness that the two vampires Lennox was closest to might not like me.
Excited because it meant we were taking our relationship to the next level.

“What is it?” he said.

I shook my head.

“It’s just––I’ll never get to take you home to
meet
my
family,” I said.

He nodded, sad for a moment, and then his face brightened.

“So, Halsey Rookmaaker. Tell me everything,” he said.

We talked all day. One of the things I liked about Lennox
was that in his immortal wanderings he had learned how to listen. This also
meant that I could be assured he heard everything I said, which helped when he
tried to evade
my
questions.

We got talking about vampires again. I got the sense he had
led me down this avenue––as if he was my supernatural guide.

The fact of the matter was, I told him, vampires couldn’t
exist. It was a matter of numbers, I said. One vampire makes more
vampires––pretty soon the world is overrun with bloodsuckers. I
didn’t say it just like that.

It was mathematically impossible for vampires to be real.

“Unless...” said Lennox, “...
we
die.”

I didn’t want to hear any more.

“The thought of someone hurting you...” I said.

I suddenly wanted to know everything. What kills vampires?
What can they do? What can’t they do? Because that way I would be more
prepared––if the day ever came––if I ever needed to
defend him...

“Have you ever considered who is protecting whom?” he said.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

It was pointless; I couldn’t get any more out of him. That
night I confided in my diary, scribbling furiously, trying to figure things
out. When I fell asleep, I had a terrible dream.

Ballard was chasing me. I had had these moments of
precognition before. Somehow I knew... that it was real; or almost real... It
was definitely going to come to pass. He wasn’t on his motorcycle; that had
been destroyed; and he wasn’t chasing after me on foot.

He was chasing after me on
feet
.

I heard Ballard pounding after me––which was
unusual, because in his transformation, I imagined Ballard prowling and
impossible to detect. Something else was thrashing after me.

Ballard was trying to save me. But no matter how fast I
went, I couldn’t escape it.

I could feel the wind on my body as I ran, my hair,
half-wild, trailing along my back, whipped up, like the flames of a fire, and I
so fast; but I couldn’t get away.

I heard it tread upon my path––deliberate with
an incalculable cunning. I whipped through the trees, my feet like comets,
faster, until I broke into a clearing. The stars wheeled overhead. There; a
bright orb. Suddenly, we were not alone.

I came out of it, but I remembered a pair of dark eyes; the light
swam in them. A million pinpricks of light, like diamonds buried in a sea of
night. And the voices caught up, and I howled. I leapt out of bed.

I was standing, half-naked, with my toes pressing into the
hardwood floors––the small window thrown open, with the moonlight
dancing across my frail body. A wisp of wind came in, tossing my hair.

Somewhere a foghorn sounded, low and mournful, like the
baying of a wolf.

I had lost Ballard temporarily; I couldn’t imagine how that
could be. Quickly, I moved to go to him, but then I remembered where I was.
Lennox was in the room across the way. I couldn’t disturb him with this.

Something had been after me. Something supernatural.
Something I had seen, night upon night, every night for the last three weeks;
the thing which was stalking me in my dreams, I couldn’t defend myself against.

I remembered Lennox, and how he had accepted me, absolutely,
for who I was. There had been no censure in his eyes––only a kind
of desperateness. He knew who I was! And... he loved me.

I went to him; I threw something on, something silken, and
moved quietly through the small dark shack. “Lennox,” I said, “Lennox.” His
door was wide open. Instead I went out through the small kitchen. I had to duck
to go out the door, it was so tiny. I found him, standing there, on a large
stone that fingered out into the docile lagoon water. He was holding an old
kerosene lamp. It burned like a beacon. He was staring off into the distance,
an outline in the preternatural fog. And I came to him.

I could see the lamp turning. It bobbed to me, along the
finger of rock. I started to run, and he put it down. “Oh, Lennox,” I said.

“Listen to me,” he said, sometime later. He had insisted we
go inside; I think he carried me. The rocks were sharp. “From what Dallace has
told me, each Power has its opposite, a natural twofold force. The light and
the dark, equal yet opposite. Thrall and anti-thrall; attack and defense.”

I told him about my dreams. “And it was chasing me,” I said.
“I think it’s after me. This isn’t the first night...”

“It’s happened before?” he said.

Mutely, I nodded. It was utterly dark. His eyes swam in and
out of focus. My remembrances took me back.

“Was there anything else?” he said. “You can remember.”

“I can’t... I can’t...” I said.

“You must try.”

“A voice! A voice! I can’t remember the words,” I said.

I felt him shift; everything was more real. We weren’t in
trouble, were we? Why was he looking around us? What had he been up to, out on
that finger of rock, alone, late at night?

“She will meet a vampire...
His strength will protect her from death... They will have a Power... of
Sight...” Could this be? Was I her? I repeated Infester’s words. “...And he
showed me these symbols,” I told Lennox. “I think I’m her, this witch, whoever
she is. It’s like there’s somebody else here. Like there’s two of me: who I am,
whoever that is, and this new person, and she... or I... is super
powerful––or could be. I don’t know. Promise you won’t leave me. I
must stay strong. Whoever is looking for me, they’re going to try and take me.
Lennox... When Marek gashed me, my wound healed overnight. Yet this magic, if
that is what it is, is immature. I think I may be, strange as this may sound,
connected
, somehow, to others... like
me––but they’re different. I feel them calling to me.”

“What do they say?” said Lennox.

“‘Come... Find us...’
But what us?” I said. “In my diary... it’s all in... my diary.”

“Diary? What diary?” said Lennox.

Chapter 2
– Venice

The water was gentle. I could hear the oars working. The
wooden hull creaked beneath my body, through which I could feel the current; it
tore secretly beneath us, guiding he and I.

The two of us...
together.

When I opened my eyes, Lennox was rowing: the muscles of his
upper chest flexed; the veins stood out on his arms––

Like wires, like blood-filled ropes.

We were leaving Rat Rock. The stars reflected in the water.
His eyes were like two Northern Lights: mysterious and elusive and
ever-changing. I realized it was the lagoon algae glowing on the surface of the
water, and not any fickleness in my love. His gaze penetrated to where I lay,
and then he looked off, to Venice––We were drawing nearer.

It was past Midnight, a word, somehow, that should always be
capitalized. Venice’s green-tinged silhouette lay before us like a collection
of huge jagged rocks, thrust from nowhere. Its ancient edifices rose from the
lagoon like bewitched stone. I could see towers and tunnels, and secret, hidden
places, where no one should go; which was precisely where we were headed. To
the vampires who made it their home.

Nervousness had been replaced by uncertainty; both for
myself and for the world I had imagined and our place within it. Suddenly
everything was being jeopardized. I didn’t like it. It pissed me off. As for Lennox,
I could see him steel himself; there was something going on with him more than
just our Fate.

I had never before seen him so contemplative and like a
statue. Like the mysteries of the world somehow came down and sat upon his
brow. He was encumbered with more thoughts than I could count. Plus there was
the Agonies.

Our little boat battled along. We avoided the main artery,
the Grand Canal, that snaked through the impossibly-constructed city.

Beautiful, delicate ribbonworks of orange glass stood out
from false balconies, as we navigated the minute chambers of water. Footpaths
ran alongside the canals we were in, and storybook bridges shot above us like
rainbows. There were strange openings, many of which were concealed behind
rusted iron bars, in the sides of the buildings; they leaned this way and that.
There were small gardens in the air. They threw out leafy vines, that crawled
along the rosy bricks and crumbling plaster. Towering campaniles with lighted
rooftops, festooned with gargoyles and other Renaissance architectural
flourishes, soared above us.

The moon disappeared and reappeared. We were traveling
deeper into the heart of Venice. It was quiet out. Lennox and I could hear
crowds of people, but they were far away, in some other, more populace, part of
Venice.

Empty gondolas and other boats were lashed to wooden piles
that broke from the murky depths of the canal we were in; they bobbed in the
current, making small bumps and scraping noises as they hit one another and the
sides of the buildings.

The canal would open up, and then it was like we were in a
fishing village, with a myriad multicolor lights dancing on the surface of the
water, and then it would close in, and the fog would obscure us.

I had seen supertankers on the outskirts of the city; we
were comparatively insignificant.

That was exactly how I liked it.

Lennox worked, taking us deeper into Venice.

Everywhere I looked were the most interesting sculptures:
cherubs, and angels fallen from grace, and lions, men on horseback, battling
hydras; flowers marked some sculptures like they were graves; there was even a
giant alligator. It was Lennox himself who was the most impressive.

Time would not age him. I saw him sitting there, a beautiful
angel, not cracked and crumbling like the other sculptures around him, but
eternal, crafted by the hand of an artist, and I so ephemeral; he would outlive
me by lifetimes; by lifetimes of lifetimes, so far into the future that
countless new lives would replace the memory of the one he and I had shared
together.

“What are you looking at?” he said.

“You.”

I saw my diary, then, sitting at his feet. We had taken
nothing else. He sat in the bow, looking at it. I grabbed it in my panic.
“You’re not reading that, are you?” I said.

“No,” he said.

I relaxed. “I feel different, somehow. Like I’m changing,” I
said. I flipped through my diary. There was a drawing in there. Of a monster,
the one that was hunting me.

I had executed it with a thick charcoal pencil, extracting
the form from the negative space: a pair of watchful dark eyes.

“We take very little to Rat Rock,” said Lennox. “And take
nothing when we leave.”

I assumed he meant Dallace and Camille and himself.

“Do they know we’re coming?” I asked.

“Camille can sense it,” said Lennox.

“That’s something that might be called a power,” I said.
“You know, what you’re so reticent about describing to me.”

He laughed. “The last thing I want is for you to get too
comfortable with vampires,” he said.

“Never!”
I said as
dramatically as possible.

We were there. The stones were slick from the mist and fog.
An expensive-looking motor boat with wooden panels sat docked at the bulwark. A
tarpaulin covered it. I could just make out the name.
Bellezza Immortale.

Immortal Beauty.

A set of steps crawled from the water. Dark angles cut the
grid of canals––leaving this place suspended in a world unto
itself, between time. Anything well-aged and useful merited my respect; which
translated to a love of Italian doors. They were so solid and beautiful, and
they often contained little hints as to what lay inside.

This one had a quatrefoil carved into the black and aged
wood, a simple series of four rings, I took to be symbolical, and a knocker, in
the shape of a lion’s head.

The building itself was imposing. Two towers rose behind a
large stone wall, through which a set of rusty iron gates sat, either inviting
or imperious, I couldn’t be sure, on their half-closed hinges. It was a kind of
throughway to the bright lights that shone from the large panes of arched glass.
Stone columns led from a kind of inner garden. Over everything a leafy green
glow manifested itself. Even in the middle of the night.

It felt alive, yet sacred; the fusing of two fundamentally
distinct concepts: the eternal and the now; the old and the new.

“We’re here.”

I didn’t know if it was my heart knocking, or else Lennox
hitting the side of the bulwark, with our little boat. He lashed it to the
bollard.

“Are you nervous?” he said. “Don’t be.”

I gulped in response.

You’re okay, you can
do this
, I told myself. I watched Lennox, lost inside himself; then he came
out of it. Two vampires were standing at the iron gates.

My first impression was that they were identical, almost
brother and sister––the same, yet different––so
completely did they complement the other.

It was only when I got over the awe of their sudden arrival,
that I noticed the differences.

They were both predatory––that was evident
immediately; but their stillness suggested they were on their very best
behavior. The man––if you could call him that––was
almost identical to the classic male models in any glamor magazine. He had a
perfect shaped jaw, and high chiseled cheeks. His eyes were comely and aloof,
belying an intense speculative interest. And of course he was perfectly featured
throughout.

The woman was extravagant. She exuded a kind of dangerous
sensuality; if he was manicured, she was jagged. Her flaws a counterpoint to
his own self-perfection.

Her first words to me were an excitement of thrills, like
poisoned petals, opening to ensnare, I was to realize were the pursuit of her
endless existence. Which is to say that she thrilled me.

There are people that you meet whom you
know
will give you beautiful experiences. Such associations are
never fated to last. But that was exactly what she was offering. The
opportunity to come be with her. With them. I only had to choose.

The rusty iron gates opened inwardly. Something I thought
was important. Like an invitation almost, I would be fool to refuse. I saw my
past, and everything in it, vanish.

Lennox introduced us. He seemed to put no significance on
greeting Dallace and Camille, himself. I thought I saw a sparkle of something
in Dallace’s eye; but then he turned to look at me.

Where Lennox’s eyes were lavender, Dallace’s were like
emerald planets. I could see the clouds roll in and thunder. His mind opened up
and delivered a truly astonishing message:
you
truly have nothing to fear
.

I grasped at it hungrily.

“You must be Halsey,” he said. I felt myself being sucked
into his eyes. “This is my wife, Camille,” said Dallace. He helped me from the
landing; Lennox looked on, with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Halsey Rookmaaker––you have an exciting name,”
said Camille. “It’s so full of odd things.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. “It’s just what they gave
me,” I said.

“Oh, they gave you more than that.”

She looked me over, if somewhat boldly. She and Lennox
exchanged no pleasantries. But Dallace hugged him like a brother. “Welcome
home,” he said.

Lennox took my hand. “We need to talk,” he said to Dallace.
Somewhere in the mix, Dallace had his arm around Lennox, and they were
whispering ahead.

Dallace’s garments were simple; on him, exceedingly daring.
I could not get over his age, and that he looked like he had seen so much. I
reminded myself that he probably had. Just how old was he, anyway?

It was Camille I was with, and she was like fire. I heard
the gates snap shut behind us. The outside sounds all went away; only a
pleasant gurgling, I figured was thanks to the Eden they had constructed for
themselves behind closed walls.

Luxuriant large leaves, and the fingers of supple trees,
blocked the sky. There were footpaths in the garden, large round stones with
grass growing wildly between them. Lennox and Dallace walked ahead. They would
turn, and by a trick of the path, disappear, leaving Camille and I to become
acquainted. I was suddenly a jumble of awkward feelings.

“It’s late, and you are in a garden full of vampires,” she
said.

Tell me about it. I could feel my heart beat.

“I know,” I said. “Believe me.”

Her long hair was straight and sleek, like a curtain of
Midnight, and just a swirl, or band, of red, accentuating it. Two round moist
eyes led to a mind that was almost child-like. “I will show you to your room,”
she said. “For sleep is a boon. Come along.”

I followed; the last thing I heard was Lennox’s voice raised
in agitation. “Forget them,” said Camille. Her voice was wicked and singsong
and had little bells in it. “Come along with
me
.”

What else could I do? It was exceedingly late. Everything
had a quasi-lucid glow. I felt myself moving, without really knowing how I got
there. First up one set of stairs, then another, her voice telling me to follow
her. “Your room,” she said.

I fell into an enchanted slumber. All night long I heard the
whispering moths’ voices. They were in the garden; I was not. When I awoke, it
was morning. It broke into my lighted room, from a balcony. I had a serious
case of déjà vu. For a second, I thought I was back in the Eternal City. The
house was quiet. It was high up. I could see out over Venice from my bed
covers.

It was a moment before I realized that I had not had any
dreams. No snuffling, or dark eyes. Nothing. Only peaceful, unperturbed sleep.

My diary was on a small nightstand, watching over me. So far
as I knew it had not been touched. If I was going to be so paranoid about it, I
should just stop keeping the diary.
Secrets
are better left un-blabbed.

My guard had been up. Some of it fell away. But then I heard
them.

“I won’t let anyone hurt her. That includes all of
you
. I’m serious.” Lennox’s voice.

“What do you take us for? Monsters?”

There was some general laughter.

“She is not one of us. It’s dangerous,” said Camille.

“He needs a lady in his life, even one so fragile,” said
Dallace. I took the opportunity to mentally memorize both of their voices. The
unreality of last night was, by now, gone. I was in a house full of vampires,
and they were arguing, about me. Why?

“But that’s the thing,
is
she?” said Camille. “In case you missed it, Lennoxlove, this gathering is
taking place. It’s time you came to certain inexorable truths. Among them that
you cannot protect her forever and always. At some point, she will be
indoctrinated into the larger world.”

“He knows that, Camille. And I want you two to stop
arguing.”

“Why?”

“Because Halsey Rookmaaker is awake. And she is listening to
every word we say.”

I felt the fluids in my heart gurgle through my veins. They
had heard me. How? I didn’t even move. Lennox explained. I came down sometime
after, and entered the garden. Dallace and Camille had gone for a stroll.

“They like to walk in the garden,” said Lennox. “It’s bigger
than it looks.”

That still didn’t explain how they had known I was awake.

“For someone magical, you sure find it difficult to accept
the supernatural,” he said.

I gave him that. “I never said I was perfect,” I said.

“Just the one,” he said, getting that far-off look again.
Was he in pain? Did it have something to do with the Agonies?

“Don’t you see that I crave knowledge, and, well, everything?”
I said, trying to get him to see reason, and open up to me.

“I fear,” said Lennox, “that I will know nothing about you,
and you will know everything there is to know about me.”

“What is there to tell?” I said. I would let him decide if I
meant him or me, by that. Something sparkled. I saw a tray of lemonade. There
was only one glass. It was like crystal. There were also sandwiches; bits of
cucumber poked from them.