A midflight vampires tal.., p.25
A Midflight Vampire's Tale, page 25
He blew out a breath. “I can’t stop you either, but I’m hoping you’ll stay anyway.”
“Ben…Mel is nuts.”
He sighed. “You’re putting me in a tight spot. I’m no match for you. Or him.”
“You’re right. That’s why I’m going to do this.” I strode forward, lifted my leg and kicked him in the stomach. Then, I punched up, cracking his jaw against my fist.
He fell to the ground with a pained groan. It felt good to punish him, though my heart twinged with a little guilt. No matter what, I didn’t want to hurt him too badly. Clay and Parker hung back, mouths agape in shock.
“There,” I said loudly for effect. “You didn’t let me walk out. I punched my way out. Be thankful I didn’t shove you out into the sunlight and let you roast like a piece of meat.”
I yanked his head by his hair, as if to shake him up a bit. In reality, I leaned in, not wanting anyone else to hear what I had to say next, “Look after Pei Ling for me, you understand?” I murmured in Mandarin.
He grimaced. “I will. Go. We will be fine. The one in danger is you.”
I stood and got into the SUV.
Henry sped off, leaving Ben still lying on the ground behind us, his companions helping him to his feet.
The freeway was clear of traffic, given that it was the weekend. Soon, we were driving toward the airport. We made a stop at my apartment to collect my passport and a small bag of essentials. I changed too, sticking to my all-black attire and combat boots, discarding my damaged clothes. It was a smooth trip. There was an underground garage and an enclosed elevator. No sunlight exposure at all.
By then I had fully healed, and my body had warmed up significantly. But I was thirsty. I needed blood to replenish myself.
As Henry drove off again, I spoke to Shastari, “Neither of you have any luggage, I’ve noticed.”
“Nothing more than our passports and the clothes on our backs,” Henry answered for her. “My original suit got a little bloodied.”
Shastari nodded.
“What happened?”
Her lips parted, but Henry cut her off, “Tell us your name first. Please.”
His eyes darted to mine through the rearview mirror.
“Surely you know my name,” I answered.
“I’m just being polite.”
“Mariko.”
“Nice name. Japanese, isn't it?”
“It’s just a name. I don’t know what it means.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, not missing the way my voice had cracked.
I wanted to throttle him.
No, I am not “okay”. I’ve had a very bad night spent in sub-zero temperatures with two broken limbs, and now I have to run for my life like some fugitive when I have done absolutely nothing wrong except tell off some ancient psycho to his face, and then you show up like the ghost of Christmas past when I least expect it.
Do you think I’m ‘okay’?
I said nothing of what I thought, knowing that the pitiful wasteland that was in my mind would surely throw me into an emotional fit if I tried to talk.
“Let it go, Henry,” Shastari murmured, her face full of concern.
“This is your fault,” he grunted.
“Don’t you start. If I hadn’t—”
“I never wanted to do things like this—”
“Quiet, both of you,” I interrupted, pinching the bridge of my nose in annoyance. “Just…drive, Henry. We’re all a little on edge. We’re all famished, I’m sure. We can talk more when things are peaceful.”
“Sure, Mariko,” he replied, calming down.
I wanted to cry. On his lips, the moniker I’d been using sounded wrong, as if I were trying to hide, when in fact, there was nothing I could hide. Not from him.
“You know what. Forget Mariko. Call me Cheng.”
He did not reply for a few moments. But when he did, he sounded grateful. “Thank you, Cheng.”
“For what?”
“For telling me your real name.”
“It’s my chosen name.”
“I can appreciate that. It’s the name you’re most comfortable with. The name that you feel is you. Very fitting, Cheng.”
Cheng. Hearing him say my name was odd and…refreshing.
My maker, Li Han, had detested the name I chose for myself. He never used it.
Again, it was a painful reminder that Henry was not the same person.
The tumult within me felt like a see-saw, swinging back and forth.
Shastari sensed it, for she touched a hand on my arm. “You are right. It has been trying for us, and for you. Let’s get to the airport, feed, and get ourselves out of Singapore. Then…it will be easier.”
I looked at Henry, driving in the front once more. Even from the back, his profile reminded me of him.
How was this going to be easy?
***
I don’t know how I endured the drive to the airport. I pretended to sleep at one point, and then I actually dozed off. Shastari woke me up, looking more refreshed as the sedative wore off her system.
We bought first class tickets quickly. She paid for all three. I wanted to pay for my own ticket, but Henry stopped me.
“Let her,” he said, glaring at Shastari, who rolled her eyes before forking out thousands and thousands of dollars without so much as a bat of her long lashes.
Glorified librarian, Tim had said of her father.
Filthy rich librarian, I added mentally.
Archivists. Missing. Her father was dead. Yet she was here now. Alive and well. Why was she looking for me?
How on earth had she found Henry? And why was Henry so upset at her?
We split up, not wanting to be anywhere near each other as we wandered the packed airport for victims to hunt. That was soon accomplished, and I found myself waiting in an exclusive-access airport lounge for our midnight flight.
Shastari found me first. She sat, and we spoke while waiting for Henry.
“I have been on the run for the past seven days,” she began in her French accent. “My father, Raksha, is dead. I already knew this, and when those Hybrids captured me…they taunted me with the things they did to him.”
Her face twisted with sorrow.
“I’m sorry. I’d heard of your father’s death.” I spoke gently, explaining what Tim had shared.
She nodded. “My father disappeared first. I received one phone call from him, telling me to run. And I did. They never found me. But I didn’t dare return home thereafter. I knew that the death of Gregory Bennetto meant that my father’s identity, and mine, had been tortured out of him. I know what it is that Melas and his Hybrids want.”
“Names. Every True Blood in existence. Which you have.”
“Yes. Now that my father is dead, only I have access to our Archives in Switzerland.”
“Which is why you’re on the run. But…who is Henry? He seems almost…angry that he’s followed you here. And why were you looking for me?”
“Your second question is easier to answer,” Shastari said. “I had to find you because I knew that in this coming battle against Melas, the True Bloods need you on their side.”
My lip curled up. “I’m hoping it won’t be a battle.”
“You’ve met Melas. Do you truly think it won’t come to that?”
I huffed. “One can always hope.”
“I wasn’t sure if you would agree, to be honest. I gambled on your involvement with SynGen. That you have enough compassion toward us to side with us. And when I was brought into that freezer, when I saw you going up against Melas, I knew I had gambled correctly.”
“It was still a risky gamble, nonetheless. Your trip here could have been wasted, and you’d be dead.”
“I know. I am not one to take risks. But the stakes are high.”
“What about Henry then?”
Her jaw twitched as she considered how to answer me. “He has…vital information…that I need. That all True Bloods need. The time has come for him to share it, despite him holding it all to himself for his entire life.”
“Really? What information is that?”
She eyed me. “The truth. He alone knows exactly what happened to Melas four thousand years ago.”
“You mean to say that you, as the Archivist of your people, don’t?”
“No, I don’t. And it is a thing I dearly regret .”
“But why would he have such information?”
Again, that uncertain, hesitant glance from her. “I will let him explain it to you eventually. Suffice to say that he is a most reluctant companion. He has lived the past few decades wanting to be left alone, wanting to have nothing to do with his people. I know it wasn’t always this way. There are those who remember him…” She shook her head. “Perhaps it is because of the heavy burden he carries, this knowledge that he alone possesses. When I found him in America, getting him to come here was like trying to coax a lion through a hoop of fire.”
“And yet he said he’d been waiting all his life to meet me,” I muttered.
“I have,” Henry interrupted. “...though I wish the circumstances had been more ideal. That’s what I’m upset about. Among other things.”
I looked over my shoulder. Henry approached, dressed in a grey jacket that he had obviously purchased from one of the luxury duty-free shops. He was polished and cleaned up, with his hair secured in a tight knot behind his head. He sat in the empty seat between us.
“Shastari interrupted me one evening in my office, and I had to cancel my schedule for the next couple of weeks on this quest of hers,” he said with no small amount of irritation. “I was completely unprepared for any of that, including flying here to find you, Cheng. That, and a dozen Hybrids had followed her, coming into my place of work, with all the humans who are under my care. You can see why I am annoyed at her.”
She stared down at her sneakers, abashed. “I had no choice.”
His face softened. “Then again, what’s done is done. I apologize, Shastari, for my behavior. Indeed, I have been difficult for the past two days.”
She seemed surprised. “Apology accepted.”
He studied us both. “I appear to have come in at the right moment. Shastari appeared on the cusp of revealing things about me that aren’t meant for her to share.” He eyed her knowingly.
She flushed, averting her gaze.
“Perhaps it is my right to know,” I said. “After all, both of you seem to think I can be of some help in this affair with Melas.”
“There is a lot I know that you should not be privy to, Cheng,” Henry replied tersely.
Tension descended among us yet again. So many questions lingered in my mind. I wanted to know about him. What he knew about me.
Did he know…? Had he ever met…?
What secrets did he keep close to his heart?
One question that embarrassed me a little was this—What does your blood taste like?
I knew I could not think of him in such a manner. He was a descendent of his forebear, the one who had Changed me. He was not the one I knew. But so alike in appearance was he that I could not help but wonder what would happen if I forced myself upon him, and took from him what he surely would not give.
It seemed he may have guessed what was going through my mind. Or perhaps he was thinking the same of me. He fixed his large dark eyes on me with a questioning look, before his heated gaze wandered to my throat.
A hostess came by at that moment, informing us that our flight was boarding.
I stood quickly, relieved for the interruption.
飞机
Icould not relax. Even when the plane took off, I felt only a minuscule sense of relief that we were on our way to Rome. To the stronghold of Nicola Post.
Nicola Post was one of two dozen or so True Blood strongholds around the world. The majority, with their close familial connections and links, maintained associations with one Post or more. Posts functioned like safehouses. A place of safety and shelter. A place of friendship and education.
Younglings like Julian and Eve would grow up in a Post under the care of adults who were often not their own parents. Then, they would venture out into the world to mingle and live among humans. If a True Blood needed a place to rest, a place to just be with others of their kind, then a Post was that place.
A Post also served as a grapevine, a place to disseminate information quickly. Which was why we needed to get to one.
I’d learned of these things over the years. I just never thought I’d have to apply any of that knowledge in reality.
The first-class cabin was devoid of passengers except the three of us. Which was a bad thing. It meant that despite my efforts to act like a prickly hedgehog, Henry sauntered over as soon as the plane took off.
“Would you stop avoiding me?” he asked, planting himself on the empty seat nearby. Being in first-class meant we were separated by a meter of plastic ornamentation and aircraft leather, but he was still too close for comfort. I could hear him. I could see him. I could smell him despite the jet fuel and sharp fragrance of air freshener around us.
“I’m not,” I said, refusing to look his way. “I’ve done as you and Shastari requested. I’ve followed you this far. Just leave me be.”
“It’s a long flight, Cheng.”
Again, hearing my name uttered by him sent a shiver down my spine. That shiver was both cold and thrilling at the same time.
“I’ll manage.”
“Look, we didn’t get off to a good start.” He shifted, making himself comfortable. “Now that we’re here, together, I’d like to get to know you better.”
I peered at him over my shoulder. He’d taken his jacket off and now lounged casually beside me. A flight attendant walked by, asking if he needed anything. A blanket? A face towel? Henry murmured a reply. His tone was teasing and light as he declined. She blushed and left us.
It was hard to square this True Blood before me with the one I remembered.
Just put him in a red cloak and…
I curled back toward the window again. “Shouldn’t you keep an eye on Shastari?”
“She’s fine. We uh…we don’t get along. A bit of a family grudge.”
“You knew each other before?”
“Not exactly…I don’t want to talk about it.”
I eyed him skeptically.
“You’ve been a mystery to me since I was a child,” he continued, changing the subject. “And now that you’re right here before me, well, I’m awestruck, really.”
“I’m no one special.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You think you know me?” I sat up, facing him.
He leaned away, backing off. “That’s not what I meant…”
“May I offer you two champagne?” a cheery voice interrupted on my side of the aisle.
“Absolutely. Thank you,” Henry said in a soothing and pleasant tone. His eyes darted to mine. “I’ll have one, thanks. And one for you…Mariko?”
I gritted my teeth, both at his insinuating manner and his use of the fake name on my passport and plane ticket. “Fine.”
Champagne dispensed, the flight attendant sauntered off with her empty silver tray.
The fruity liquid was still in my mouth when Henry murmured to me, “For the record, Cheng, I think you would look devastating in one of those outfits.”
Now, at this point, I might have reached out and punched him in the nose. Or strangled him until he apologized.
Who does he think he is?
But I was too drained to do either.
“I prefer my qipaos,” I muttered.
We talked then. Or rather, I talked. He listened.
I spoke of what happened two years ago. How I discovered Julian’s existence and rescued him from SynGen. Our chance encounter with Sarah, a Sensor. The scuffle that involved Seekers and Tony.
It didn’t pour out, no. I was careful with what I shared. I was composed through it all.
But always, always in the back of my mind, I knew what Henry wanted of me.
He’d said so, after all, just before I managed to coax him to return to his own seat to catch forty winks.
I’ve saved your life twice by now. You owe me your story.
So you want to play that game, do you? Fine. I’ll play.
Henry didn’t sleep very long. I could hear it in the way he breathed. A mere two hours later, he was back by my side, looking refreshed.
That’s the thing about us vampires. It didn’t matter if you were a Hybrid or True Blood. The older you got, the less sleep you needed.
I broke the silence between us first. “I’m still wary of you. It’s difficult to put aside my emotions.”
“I understand.”
“Tell me more about yourself. You’ve told me you’re six hundred years old.”
“Give or take. You lose count after a while.”
My lips curved to one side. “Agreed. So that makes you on the older end of the scale.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a recluse, as Shastari has said.”
“I am.”
I waited a moment, then two, then I glared at him. “That’s more than twice now you’ve refused to talk about certain things. About yourself. I know you think I’m a hoarder of secrets. Don’t deny it, you are the same.”
“I have every right to keep my own secrets to myself,” he returned.
“Secretive. Arrogant. And temperamental. I’m sure you must be well-admired in the human world in which you hide.” I couldn’t contain the sarcastic bite in my voice.
“Would it surprise you to know that I am admired and well-known in my little circle? I run a business. A successful one. And I do it well. It’s just that when it comes to my own people, I’d rather remain anonymous. And I’ll point out that I’m not the only True Blood who does this.”
“You’re not the only True Blood who runs a publishing firm and forces stories out of other vampires?” I asked.
A smile ghosted his lips. “Some of us own pharmaceutical companies. Some of us are in construction. Automobiles. Tech. Politics, even. Me, I’m different. I like hearing stories. I collect them. You might say it runs in my blood.”
His eyes slid to mine and my breath caught in my throat. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
