Adduné - the Vampire's Game (77 page)

“
You didn’t know about him, did you? All you had to do is follow the clues! I left them for you to follow, but you didn’t! Couldn’t even manage to figure them out and solve the puzzle? You fools!” she spat derisively, “You stupid, stupid fools! He’s been on my side all along, and you didn’t know! Not so smart now, are we?”

She ran towards Stroker who held up a silver container. He shook it in Rachel’s direction. The clear liquid hit its target splashing over her. She brought up her hands to cover her face, but to no avail. Smoke rose from her hideous flesh. She began to wail mournfully.

“
Holy water?” Miranda whispered to Stroker.

He nodded.

Rachel was on the floor, writhing in pain. Peter brought up the end of his cape – covering his head for protection. He ran for the window. He turned before jumping – eyes blazing with fire.

“
This is not the end, Miranda! Not by a long shot!”

He jumped out the open portal. His human body transformed before Miranda’s eyes into a bat. The bat hovered in place, hissing its displeasure. Stroker ran forward with the holy water. Before he could use it, the winged creature flew away into the night.

“
Coward,” she screeched after him.

Stroker turned to Rachel who huddled on the floor, screaming in pain. She struggled to get up – making it to her knees and then onto her feet. He sprung into action, dropping the small piece of leather luggage he carried. He bent over it, extracting a large silver cross. Running – he rammed into her. His force easily knocked her to the ground. Before she could move, he placed the cross on her forehead. It seemed to paralyze her and hold her in place. She tried to fight – moving her shoulders, but couldn’t. He ran back into his old leather bag retrieving two items – a long, wooden stake and iron hammer.

“
Miranda, you’d better leave. Trust me – you don’t want to see this.”

Miranda was transfixed. She knew he was right, but she needed to ask questions first.

“
Is she paralyzed?”

‘
Yes,” Stroker replied.

“
From the cross?”

“
Yes, from the cross. It was blessed. If you can place it on them, they are immobilized and powerless, but if I take it off, believe me, she is gone!”

Miranda walked nearer to Rachel. She looked down into the face of the creature that killed her best friend and Jake. Peter had said he gave orders to an underling. It must have been Rachel. And she had been in that club. There was no Myrtha.

“
Do whatever you want. I do not care.”

Stroker placed the stake over Rachel’s heart letting the point of it sink into her. It pierced her colorless, white flesh in the middle of her décolleté.

Miranda turned and left. She shut the door so she wouldn’t be tempted to watch. She dashed into the living room. Now that she was safe, thoughts of Chase surfaced. She had to find out about him. She retrieved her purse from the rubble. Her phone had fallen out. By feeling around, she located it. She listened to the message left by the Chicago police over Rachel’s shrieks and pleas for mercy. Chase was dead. They found him on the sidewalk in front of his high-rise. He’d jumped and died on impact.

As horrendous and chilling as Rachel’s cries were, they weren’t enough to bring about a sense of justice or retribution for what had happened. Chase had been like a little boy. He was naïve and gullible about life and love. There was no honor or skill used to set him up for the killing. And Tiffany….

Tiffany!

Miranda felt her heart sinking. She couldn’t get the horrible scene out of her mind. She ambled to the bedroom for one last look.

Death did not become her friend although her beauty fought the foulness of the bestial attack. Her face held its beauty intact – an artpiece to be placed on a pedestal and admired. Although the human impulse was to reattach the pieces, it could never be. Otherwise, she would turn into one of them.

She closed the door behind her, granting her privacy and the right to be alone. She hadn’t been given this courtesy in the last few minutes of her young life, but she would accord her that right now. It would last until her peace was once again interrupted. She needed to be moved to a final resting place, but would she ever find peace?

Miranda had no answer to the grand question. She surveyed the once magnificent condo seeing the enormous devastation. She stumbled out onto the terrace – how she made it, she didn’t know. She was sick with grief and craved a solace that would never be found. It was her fault. All her fault.

Stroker came out of the bedroom. He peered into the dark recesses of the apartment, but saw no signs of Miranda.

“
Mademoiselle,” he called out softly not wanting to disturb the dead.

He wandered into the living room. It was in shambles. The carpet was flooded with water from the broken water fountain above the fireplace’s mantle. Everything about the dead girl and her life had been destroyed. He was pinned by that thought. The ceasing of movement allowed him to hear the soft sobbing.

The crunch of the broken glass under his thickly-creped soles accompanied his march to the empty metal rims of the glass patio doors. The outline traced the dark void where the panes should be. They were now smashed and underfoot.

He saw her small silhouette, hunched on her knees looking up at the moon. She resembled a dog that was chained in the backyard, gazing up at the light and wondering what had happened to its freedom. He had dealt with the emotional devastation of victims before and approached her with trepidation. Survivors of such tragedies were unpredictable. After all, their hearts were ripped open and bleeding on the floor much like the trampled glass.

“
Mademoiselle,” he called out quietly to the despondent figure on the terra cotta terrace. He was not surprised that she didn’t even notice. He slowly lowered himself using his hands to brace her against the tides of tragedy that had risen up to overwhelm her.

Miranda’s eyes glistened from tears that fell silently on her cheeks and down her naked lips. The cheerful color they had been painted was a distant memory as was Tiffany – her ever faithful friend. How could she have let her down so catastrophically? How?

“
I watched him. I watched him escape to the moon. He flew up in the air – his wings beating, lifting his body up and up and up, but I saw him …” Miranda murmured in a hushed tone that bespoke her misery. She raised a finger shaking in anguish that comes from having your life torn away. She pointed it at the moon as if that were the culprit that had committed the crime, “ … he disappeared into that sky.”

Stroker let her speak – not interrupting. He would give her time, but not too much. There was work to be done.

“
Mademoiselle, you are in shock. It is understandable, but I need you to have your wits about you. Please Mademoiselle, we must hurry.”

Miranda turned her head towards him – blinking – her face blank. She had no thoughts other than the pity that was engulfing her. It was obliterating her will – sucking her down into an abyss from which there would be no escape.

“
Mademoiselle, do not allow yourself the luxury of self-pity. It is not for me that I’m asking you to do this, it is for your friend. She needs justice and we can give that to her. There is retribution waiting. She needs this to have her sleep be peaceful.”

“
There’s more … my brother,” Miranda gasped, trying to get the rest of the sentence out. Stroker needed to know what they’d done. Everyone needed to know. They needed to pay for it and the only way to make them pay was to let everyone know.

“…
he’s dead.”

She’d done it. She’d gotten it out, but at what price to her sanity? She felt the person she was dissolve and drift away. She grabbed a hold of Stroker’s shirt, pulling him to her. She buried her face into its folds – staining the light blue cotton with her tears.

“
He’s dead! My brother is dead!” she uttered in guttural, breathy cries.

Stroker reacted to the information. He tenderly wrapped her in his arms and let her cry. They’d been too late.

“
I’m so sorry for not believing you!”

He patted her back letting her cry. His rough hands were comforting and seemed capable of protecting her from the world’s evils. She wondered if they could just stay like this – push everything away and just kneel together in the darkness of the moment and the night.

“
Mademoiselle, I am so sorry to hear that. I know you are blaming yourself, but it’s not your fault. It was a lot to believe and I had no proof. It is even more reason for you to pull yourself together. I need you, Mademoiselle.
They
need you.”

Her hands grabbed her arms as his words sank into her like a sword. What he said was true. It was that monster Peter. He was responsible. He was the mastermind of this well-crafted misery. She would see him dead.

That single thought was the genesis of the new Miranda – the one that rose from the ashes of her shattered life. This Miranda had been tempered with fire and the blood of people she loved. Miranda allowed herself one more moment of sorrow. She then sniffled and drew herself back from Stroker using the back of her hand to wipe away the last of her tears. She would no longer cry. She would vanquish the town of its monster so that he never unleashed his evil again.

“
Fine. What do we do?”

“
You’re back?” Stroker said with a meek smile. He had guessed she was a fighter, but her resilience was surprising.

“
Of course, I’m back. What did you think? That I would allow him to destroy my life and everything my father built without so much as a whimper?”

“
Then I can count on you?”

“
Count on me? You can do much more than that, Monsieur, for I want him dead.”

Stroker’s eyes gleamed with intensity. The gray held secrets as deep as the eternal sea. She ran her hand down the side of his cheek. He was a man you could trust. It was a pity she hadn’t come to that realization before it came to this.

“
Good. As for your question, you should go home.”

“
What? But don’t you need me here to talk to the police?”

“
Police? Those are the last people I would be calling. I need to dispose of those bodies.”

“
But Tiffany ….”

“
She is dead. There is no bringing her back. And that creature in the other room? I killed her by driving a stake through her heart. Do you know what happens when you do that? They resume a human appearance. To the police it will look like I drove a wooden stake through the heart of a woman. I would have much to explain as to why I would do that – as would you for not calling them before you called me. I would undoubtedly be arrested for murder and you might be detained … or charged. That would mean we would lose time and that is something we cannot afford to waste.”

“
You’re right,” she answered. There would be no sane way to explain what happened. And it wouldn’t bring Tiffany back.

“
Also if they were called, they would control what happened to the bodies. The stake would be pulled out. It would mean that they would unwittingly resuscitate her. She would resume her activities as a vampire. You can see how they amuse themselves. It is always at the expense of someone very human and most often loved. No, I need custody of her body, for the stake is not enough. If her body were ever found, then, well, you know how people are about interfering. I cannot take that chance. To be sure, I need to separate her head from her body – as they did with …” he let his voice trail off not willing to finish.” It’s the only way to be certain. Do you think the police would permit me to do that?”

“
No,” Miranda responded. She knew full well what he said was true. The only way she knew any of this was true was because she’d witnessed it. The police would never believe her. They wouldn’t care who she was. They’d believe their own eyes in much the same way she had done. Vampires would be only a fantasy created by the woman that murdered her best friend and the man that assisted her. The blame would be placed onto them instead of the filthy Peter Adduné. He would get away scot-free.

“
And then there’s your friend. Her head … there is no easy way to say this, but it needs to remain separated from her body. Do you think her family would allow that?”

“
No,” she answered quietly.

“
Then let me do my job.”