Nevermore, the Complete Series (5 page)

I thought over everything that I had read in vampire novels – noting the fact that he was out here, in the sunlight, not burning to a crisp. However, he was breathtakingly beautiful and he did have a pallid complexion, but he seemed harmless - aside from the bizarre episode about his ‘special abilities’ that he went on about. Crazy…but harmless.

Salem opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up to stop him as I remembered what Paul had said. “There’s more about you than you let on last night isn’t there? You’re not just some far off offspring of a witch, are you?”

He lowered his eyes. “You are correct, Alexis Waldron.”

Waldron.
“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I was afraid of how you would react.”

“But if you are what Paul says you are, and you try to avoid this place, why would you want to bring me here?”

Salem sighed. “I promised Janet I would.”

“How’s my mom…Janet…involved in any of this?”

“She knows my secret,” he spoke quietly, “all thanks to Mark.”

“Mark? As in her boyfriend?”

He nodded. “He is one of us as well.”

“What!? Oh my god, is she in danger!?” I asked, beyond alarmed. Regardless if she was my biological mom or not, I still loved her.

“Of course she isn’t,” he smiled reassuringly.

“This is all some sort of trick, right?” My voice was filled with panic as I stared at him with pleading eyes. “Tell me this isn't real. Tell me my mom is at home waiting for me, and that she's secretly planning a surprise party and is just using you guys to distract me.”

“I wish I could,” Salem replied.

“I don’t know what to think. This is all impossible,” I said, shaking my head, “Okay, I’ll play along Mr. Vampire, but I have one question.”

“Anything.”

“Why, if Paul is your enemy, are you willing to be around me at all? Aren’t you afraid hunting is in my blood or something? Or that, you know…HE might kill you?”

“I told you before. I find you intriguing; in more ways than I can even explain. And, you haven't been taught in the ways of hunting, therefore I have nothing to fear from you. As far as Paul goes, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?
Okay, whatever. I have another one for you, then. If you’re a vampire, how are you out here in the sun? Shouldn't you have shriveled up and died by now? Or burst into flame?”

He grimaced. “This is reality, Alexis, not a story. Everything you have read about vampires – most of it is inaccurate or downright false. We are not beautiful, we don't turn into bats, we don't shrivel up in the sunlight and we are most definitely not afraid of something as fickle as garlic.”

“That's not entirely true,” I whispered bashfully, turning to look out the window, hoping he somehow had not heard.

“What isn't?” He questioned.

“The beautiful part,” I said, turning back to look at him.

“You are too kind,” the sound of his laugh extinguished my embarrassment.

“So, then it is all true?” I paused for a moment, “are you going to kill me?” I really wished I didn’t always blurt out what I was thinking.

He put his finger on my chin and turned my face toward him. I flinched at his touch, trembling slightly. “I would never hurt you. In fact, I have no interest in hurting anyone else for that matter.”

“Paul said you’re a monster and that I shouldn't trust you.”

“Paul,” he said through gritted teeth, “is the monster. A lot of vampires haven't done anything wrong, not in a very long time. Some of us haven’t at all. The hunters…the ones that kill without feeling or discrimination…they are the monsters!”

“A long time? So you’re saying you used to be a monster?” I asked.

“Some of us, yes. Some still are, but I'm not amongst those. These hunters such as Paul do not understand that many of us are different. They only judge us by what we are, not who we are.”

I stared into his pale blue eyes, wondering if he was telling the truth. If he really was a vampire there was no telling over how many years he could have perfected the art of lying. “If your kind is nothing to be afraid of, why do hunters even exist?”

“I said a lot of us, not all of us. There are some vampires that are still a definite threat to society, and that is why the Waldron lineage exists. Your ancestors are natural born hunters of our kind. It would overwhelm you to know just how many vampires exist in the world, how many exist in just this little town. That is why hunters exist.”

I gulped at his words, trying to avoid wondering just how many vampires were roaming around in what I thought to be a peaceful little town. Sure, Willowshire wasn't perfect – we had criminals just as any town did, but thinking that there were undead monsters roaming through the city sounded far more sinister than your everyday crook. “Are your special abilities a part of being...what you are?”

“No,” he said quietly, “I have always assumed it was something to do with my father’s heritage.”

“Your last name is kind of contradictory, too,” I said, speaking my thoughts again. “That is, assuming all those vampire stories are true – and that you have been a vampire for a long time...” I was prepared to ramble, but he stopped me.

He smirked. “I suppose you are right. However, how did you know that I'm not as young as you are?”

“The way you talk and dress, your love for classical music and books, and maybe a little that you can’t drive a car,” I laughed.

“Those are all very valid reasons,” he replied, “of course, how ancient must you be to love classical music and books as well?”

“Ha! That has nothing to do with how old I am.”

We laughed for a couple of minutes, but I stopped abruptly and glanced at him. “Well, how old are you?”

“I was born in 1885,” he replied, bracing himself in assumption that I would freak out.

“You're 126?” I gaped at him, quickly doing the math in my head.

“More or less,” he shrugged, “it's hard to keep track after all of this time. After a couple dozen they start to blend together.”

I glanced up toward the auto shop window and saw Paul glaring out at us. I wondered if he could see Salem despite the glare on my windshield.

“We should probably get out of here...” I muttered and Salem followed my gaze.

“Let's go to your house,” he said quickly.

“Why would we go there?” I asked as I pulled out of the parking lot.

“Don't you want to?”

“I guess...” I sighed as I turned left onto the road. “Not like there’s anything there for me now, though.”

“All of your belongings are there.”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“It will make you feel better,” he assured me, but I was certain it would do the opposite. Nevertheless, I agreed to go home...at least temporarily.

The house was cold, vacant and depressing. I wanted to run to my room, collapse onto my bed and sleep until this nightmare was over. Salem followed me inside although uninvited, admiring his surroundings as we passed through the kitchen and into the living room. It was incredibly dull and shabby in contrast to his house. I groaned when I smelled the sour milk that had spilled across the dining room floor the prior morning. I quickly gathered the mop and cleaned it up, spraying the area with cleaner to eliminate the wretched smell.

“You never did explain to me how you afford to live in that mansion of yours,” I commented as I watched him look around my place.

“It is hardly a mansion, and technically, I did,” he said as he looked at the TV set, “I told you I can make things materialize at will.”

“So you’re telling me you created a whole house?” I said sarcastically.

He laughed lightly. “No, of course I didn’t. The house was abandoned when I arrived here, barely more than a rotting hull. The furniture and touch-ups, however…”

“How do you do it?” He was still fascinated by the TV. I grabbed the remote off of the boring, scratched up brown coffee table.

“Magic,” he grinned up at me.

I glared. “I’m serious, tell me how?”

“I think of something, and it appears. It is really simple.”

“Anything?”

“No. I can materialize a wide variety of objects. The smaller they are, the easier it is for me. I definitely could never manage anything as large as a house. And it's not something I am in constant control of.”

“What do you mean?”

“I only discovered the ability a few years ago and sometimes it works...other times, not so much,” he laughed somewhat to himself. “Initially, things sort of backfired. For example, if I were to imagine a lamp...it would come out disfigured and broken. I eventually figured it out, though.”

“And what happened when you first figured out you could do this…magic?”

“Well, I was...startled, as anyone would be,” he appeared to be deep in thought. “But considering who and what I am, it didn't affect me as much as it may would others, I suppose.”

I hit the power button on the TV remote and a news report spread across the 32' screen. Salem jumped back.

“Please tell me you’ve at least seen a TV before.”

“I'm 126 years old Alexis, of course I have seen a television,” he shook his head at me. “I just wasn't expecting it to come on.”

I wasn't paying attention at this point; I was watching the TV intently. The slick-haired man behind the screen was talking about an incident in Denver, Colorado. My heart was beating rapidly as I stared. I hardly noticed Salem walk up beside me.

“What is it?” he asked, watching the screen.

I tuned out his voice and heard only the rough voice of the news reporter.

“Earlier today at the Denver Zoo, a black bear escaped its holding pens while a zookeeper was placing food in its enclosure,” he spoke quickly, “the woman was found brutally attacked within the bear's exhibit. We are still unsure how the bear escaped.”

My heart sunk as a picture of a woman was pulled up on the screen. “No!” I screamed.

Salem's voice reached my ears again. “Alexis...” It was merely a gentle whisper, right behind my ear.

“No! Don't you dare speak to me or touch me!” I shouted, pushing him away. “Mark did this! I know it!”

He looked taken aback by my assumption. “You think Mark did this?” he frowned. “We aren't like that, Alexis. There is no evidence that he had any involvement. The reporter clearly said that it was a bear attack.”

“That doesn't make him innocent! It could all be some sort of cover up!”

“You are just upset because he took her from you.”

“That has nothing to do with it!” Or did it? It was more Paul's fault than Mark’s wasn't it? I fell back on the sofa. “Did it say...did it say if she was still alive?”

“I didn't hear anything about her dying,” he sat beside me on the faux leather couch. “I assure you, it has nothing to do with Mark.”

“I won't believe it until I hear it from mom – Janet, I mean.” Not calling her mom was going to take a while to get used to.

“Why don't you call her?” he suggested.

“Right,” I nodded, relaxing just a little as I stood up and got the cordless phone from the kitchen. So much for crude accusations the first time I called her after she left. I dialed her cell phone number. It rang once.
Twice. Three times.

“Hello?” a deep male's voice replied.

“Is Janet there?” I said.

“She can’t come to the phone right now. Who is this?”

“This is her daughter,” I said, ignoring the fact that I wasn't really her daughter anymore…or never was, I supposed. “Please, just put her on the phone.”

“She's a little out of it right now, but I'll see if she is able.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Silence followed, and then muffled voices in the background.

“Alexis?” her voice was different, scared, weak. “I was about to have Mark call you.”

“How are you?” I felt relieved to hear her voice, but something about the way she spoke made me uneasy.

“I have been better,” I heard her laugh, which was cut through with a hoarse cough and groan. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Thanks, mom...” I muttered. “Tell me what happened.”

I heard the muffled voice of Mark in the background but I couldn't decipher what he was saying. “I was feeding the brown bears, when one of them must have gotten loose-”

I broke her off suddenly. “The person on the news said black bears.”

“Right...” she trailed off, “black bears. My mind is a bit hazy right now.”

“Did Mark do something to you?” I blurted out anxiously.

“Of course not!” her voice sounded unconvincing, almost as anxious as my own, “he's right here with me in the hospital, making sure I'm taken care of.”

“How badly were you hurt, are you going to be okay?”

“It's not as bad as the TV might make it sound. It's just a few scratches really.”

“The news reporter said you were brutally injured.”

“The TV was over-exaggerating, like they always do. You know that.” I heard another bout of coughing then Janet's voice was replaced by the deep male again. “Janet needs her rest. I'll have her call you back when she is feeling better.”

He hung up. I crumbled onto the sofa, bawling my eyes out in frustration.

“What did she say?” Salem asked tenderly as he sat beside me.

I filled him in on the entire conversation, including the errors in her story. It must have been difficult to comprehend through my sobs.

“Perhaps she is just hazy like she said...” he said with the faintest hint of doubt in his voice.

“You don't believe it any more than I do, do you?” I said, sitting up and looking into his eyes.

He looked down, strands of black falling across his face. “I believe that Mark was in no way responsible for this.”

“I need to go to her,” I said suddenly, angrily. Was no one on my side today?

“No, you don't. Everything will be fine, trust me.”

“Trust you!? I don’t even know you!”

“Alexis, you need to calm down. Relax.”

“Calm down!? First my mom leaves me, then I find out all this unbelievable crap about Paul and vampires, and now my mom is laying in some hospital bed with some monster supposedly watching over her!”

“Even if it were true about Mark, you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“I could help her!”

“No, you couldn’t. And besides…you are too important to risk, regardless my insistence on Mark’s goodness.”

“Important? You barely even know me, Salem!”

“As far as you know,” he whispered.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I can't explain it right now,” he sighed. “Your friends are expecting you to be bright and cheerful.”

“What?”

“It's your birthday, remember?” he grinned. “They're coming over to celebrate.”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “That blonde haired girl might have mentioned it.”

“Of course she did...” I grumbled. “Is this the real reason you wanted me to come home so badly?”

“That might have played some part in it, yes.”