The Anti-Vampire

“If it’s that easy, then why haven’t you already found Ambrosia and ended this?”

“It’s not over. I’ll find her.”

“Then do it without Ruby—do it without me, and you won’t have me in your way anymore.”

“Asking me to find a treasure without the map—can’t do it.”

“Trying to tell me that you’re too powerless to find one girl who’s fled your city—trying to tell me you know no one who can find her? Certainly you’ve grown weak. With all your power, one blue-haired girl is out of your reach?”

“Carvelli and Quint,” he calls, and two shadows loom at the end of the alleyway.

Glance down at the door—no handle on this side. Wall behind me. Rooftop too high to leap to. Three angry vampires between me and the only way out. Great. Simply spectacular.

I fling my hands in front of me, fingernails sticking out, fangs showing.

Roderick holds up his hand at them, “Just wait there, boys. May not need you, but be ready.”

Speaking to me again, he continues, “I know you, Simon, and you can tell me where the blue-haired mystery is hiding.”

“I don’t know where she is, Roderick. I was still here waiting for you to come out the fire while they were running away. Remember?”

“Look me in the eyes,” he hisses.

I stare at him, trying to hold my vision steady. It bounces between focus and blur—God, I hope he doesn’t see it. His hand grabs my chin and holds my eyes aimed slightly down into his.

His hand smells of blood and alcohol.

“Now,” he says, “Tell me.”

Fierce are his eyes as they study me.

He continues, “Tell me you don’t know where she is, and for the sake of your beloved mistress, be sure you speak the truth. The time for games is through.”

“I don’t know where she is. Just that she’s gone away. I’m the one who told her to leave town and not come back.”

His face looks like an attacking wolf as my last words settle in. The truth of it stings in him. My vision goes blurry. He knows she’d be easy to find if not for me. Knows he’d have what he’s risked so much to find if not for my words. Knows he’d have what he wants so dearly if not for my defiance. He’s now just a smear to my eyes, but I can hear the fury swirling in him as his breathing becomes erratic.

“Why, Simon?”

Can’t answer, his voice echoes in my head, thoughts turning black.

He slaps my face.

“Wake, Simon—no time for sweet dreams—this nightmare’s not over yet.”

Move my mouth, no sound comes out. Slaps me again.

“Come back, Simon. Come back, or I’ll find Ruby. Maybe she’ll tell me what she wouldn’t tell you.”

My hand flings up and finds his throat, squeezing with all the strength I have. My eyes only give me a blurry glimpse of what’s going on.

Hands grab me and slam me into the bricks. Sight bounces with the collision. Wind knocked out of me. Hand at my throat pressing my head against the wall.

Carvelli and Quint both have hands pinning me to the wall. Hand at my throat is Roderick’s. Two bits of wood dig into my back, under my shirt in my pants. God, don’t let them find them. Not now.

“Back now, Simon?” asks Roderick.

Nod my head as much as I can with his hand squeezing my throat. He releases my neck.

“Carvelli and Quint, wait outside the alley again.”

“But, Roderick, he—”

Roderick slaps him across his face, and says, “Don’t question me, Quint. Do what I say or take his place when I’m done with him.”

They obey, leaving just the one monster within my arm’s reach.

“Simon, Simon, Simon. I asked you a simple question, and you nearly went to pieces. What am I to think about you? I think you’re done. Nothing left to offer me. That’s a dangerous place to be, young boy.”

“For the girl. It was for Ruby, not Ambrosia. Helped her escape because of Ruby.”

“All this—for her?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Roderick? All this for Ambrosia?”

“Don’t you worry about Miss Ambrosia. I don’t plan on hurting her at all. Just need something she has. The two of you have made this a much bigger deal than it is.”

“If you just need something she has—why not go to her apartment and take it?”

“It’s a dorm room, and if it were still there, do you think I’d be wasting my time talking to you and sending half the vampires in New Orleans out looking for you and Ruby?”

“She took it with her?”

“Of course.”

“Stupid girl.”

Smiles, “Now, you’re starting to get it, my boy. Help me find Ambrosia, and I could care less about you and your little girlfriend. I have better things to do than chase after you anyway.”

“Why don’t you let me get what you need from Ambrosia, then? No need for you to have her if you just want something she has.”

Growing impatience builds in his tone, “Doesn’t know she even has it. I’ll have to take it from her—she won’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“What if I take it from her?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Right now, I’d do a lot to end this.”

Roderick punches the bricks to the side of my left ear. The collision makes my sight shake again.

He grumbles in my ear, “Less you know about this, the better—you remember that. Now tell me where she is.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not, Simon? Don’t you know what I’ll do when I find her—especially now, after your defiance? I’ll bring a new meaning to the word torture, and you’ll never be free of me after this. Ever. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You’d endure all that for her?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve heard the stories about my anger—things I’ve done to those who disobey me?”

I nod.

“The thing about those tales is that no one who was there has ever lived. The stories were told by those who only heard the screams from a distance—heard the wretched cries from those who knew first-hand what I can do. Nothing you’ve heard equals what I can bring. And you still defy me?”

“Yes.”

“For a girl?”

“What else?”

“They are vile, miserable meatbags, who in a single turn of our lives crumble to dust. What in any of them can make you be so foolish?”

“You live in your own dark world; you don’t see them in the day. You don’t know what they do—what they’re capable of. You judge them all based on the actions of the wildest of the bunch that you find down here—and you only see the wildest at their worst—their craziest. That’s why people come down here—for the raunchiest time of their lives. You judge people you don’t even know.”

His voice intensifies, growing like an approaching storm, “You don’t think I know what goes on inside of a human? What about the 17 years I spent chained to a brick wall in Spain? Huh? What about that little bit, Simon?”

Pause. No answer.

His voice like stones dragged across rocks continues, “My only relief from the pressing of the brick’s grooves