Elsa (Vampire Morsels) Page 2
Room 622, around the back. That was where he’d been, but no one answered her knock. She pounded again and again, until someone in the next room shouted at her to be quiet. She couldn’t give up, so she hurried through the rain and into the shabby motel office. The walls were stained with tobacco and smoke hung thick in the air. The bell was broken, so she banged on the counter impatiently.
A voice came from behind the tatty blanket that served as a door between the office and the back rooms. “Yeah, yeah, hang on.”
She didn’t have time. Each second might be taking him farther away from her.
The blanket was thrown aside and a short fat man dressed in
a horrible Hawaiian shirt waddled out. He took a puff from his cigar and eyed her critically. “Yeah, what can I help you with?”
“I’m looking for someone. Tristan Shelby. He was in room 622.”
The attendant shrugged. “Room 622 checked out earlier. Sorry, sister.” He looked her up and down. “Just as well. I’d let that one go, if I was you.”
“I can’t!” she cried passionately. “Do you know where he went?” Tears trembled at the edges of her eyes, ready to drop.
The attendant scratched his stomach thoughtfully. Indecision flickered over his face. Finally, her tears swayed him. “I don’t know where he went for sure, but he was runnin’ with a local crowd. They hang out at the old fair grounds most nights, so he might be down there. But-” he lowered his cigar and met her eyes. “I wouldn’t go lookin’ for any of them, if I was you. They’re not what you think they are.”
Hope blossomed inside her. The old fairgrounds were a popular hangout for teenagers and, having grown up there, she knew them well. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“Remember, I warned you!”
His words were lost as she dashed out the door into the rain. If she could only catch Tristan and say all those things she should have said earlier, then maybe she could stop this. Maybe she could convince him that they belonged together. Maybe she could hang onto him just a little longer.
The drive was short. The fairgrounds were on the edge of town, and had been abandoned since the late 70’s. She parked in the overgrown lot and got out. The tall, wet grass wrapped around her legs like grasping hands. She shook it off and forced her way towards the peeling gates. A wooden sunshine hung above them. Its toothy grin was faded and chipped. The colors were bleached almost gray. “Have a Happy Day” was just visible on the reverse side in faded rainbow letters.
The ticket booth was dark and silent. The windows were a spider web of cracks that told stories of bb guns and rocks. Scattered beer bottles glittered in the flashing lightning and weeds grew through the cracked pavement. The rusted Ferris wheel hulked to her left. Vines covered it and hung down in long, thick tendrils, like something from a nightmare scape.
She could feel eyes in the darkness again; feel the night watching her. She forced the silly superstition away and told herself to grow up. There was nothing to be afraid of. She’d been there before.
But never alone.
Am I alone now?
“Hello?”
No one answered her except the rain. She pulled up her courage and walked deeper into the fairgrounds. The carousel loomed ahead of her. The dirty mirrors still tried to glitter on the canopy, and the silent horses waited for riders that would never return.
She stopped next to the carousel and waited as a bolt of lightning sliced through the sky. In the instant of light, she looked around madly, but didn’t see anyone. Her heart sank as she realized that she’d missed him. It was too late. Tristan was gone.
Her body sagged and she used the nearest carousel horse to hoist herself onto the large, disc-like base. She felt too morose to do more than sit on the edge and stare at her dangling feet. What was the point? Maybe she’d get lucky and the carousel would get struck by lightning.
She glanced up to her silent, painted companion. Dark streaks ran down the horse’s face, like old tears. Oddly, that made her smile. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? With no reason to go on anymore?”
Thunder snapped and she sighed. She should go home and have a cup of coffee. She should change into her pajamas and go to bed. In the morning she should get up, and put on her make up, and go to work. Again and again, the same routine. Meanwhile, he would be doing what? Or who?
She heard something. Her head snapped up and she looked around. There was only rain and dark and rusted rides. It was probably just a rat, anyway. Yeah. A rat.
A rat with fangs.
A man stood in front of her. To her terrified mind, he was only a black shape with snarling lips and long, pointed teeth. A vampire, like Tristan. But, it wasn’t Tristan. It was someone else. Someone she needed to get away from.
She gasped and tried to throw herself backwards. The vampire was too fast and she was suddenly pinned down on the old carousel. He held her by her wrists and growled into her face. His eyes were strange, not human but more like a wild dog; a wild starving dog.
He didn’t ask who she was, or what she was doing. He only stared into her eyes for an agonizing moment and then tore into her neck. She screamed. The sound was drown out by the rolling thunder. Lightning sliced across the sky and in the brightness she could see the rain drops, suspended in midair, and the sad weather stained face of the carousel horse, watching with chipped eyes. The darkness crashed back, but the image stayed in her head, like a still frame. Perhaps the last thing she’d ever see.
With her last breaths she screamed for Tristan.
There was a blur of motion and suddenly she was free of her attacker. Though she tried to move, she was too weak to do more than roll her head to one side. The carousel horse and its neighbors were broken and strewn in the mud. The vampire lay nearby, hanging half off the carousel, his face covered in blood. From the shadows a second man stepped forward. He had bright red hair, like a punk rocker. Though he was soaked, he brushed at the mud on his long coat as he approached.
“Sorry, Lennon. But I think I need her alive.” The new vampire hopped lithely onto the carousel platform, stepped over the bloody and angry Lennon and came to a stop next to her. He peered down at her like a vulture, his brow puckered. “You are alive, aren’t you?”
Her answer was a gurgle. Terror engulfed her. She tried to raise her hands to her gaping neck, but her arms wouldn’t work. All she could do was plead with silent eyes.
Lennon stood and wiped the blood from his chin. “What do you need her for?”
The red head arched a single brow. “Unless I’m mistaken, she was shouting for our friend Tristan who, if you’ll recall, I am trying to locate. If she knows him, she may know where he is.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Or maybe not.” He shrugged as if it was suddenly of no consequence. “It appears she’s useless to me, after all, so you can do what you want with her. Either kill her or turn her.”
“Turn her?” Lennon stared at him as if he’d gone crazy. “Why would I do that?”
The world shifted into shades of gray and Elsa choked. She tried to concentrate, but the conversation slipped through her fingers like tears. Tristan. Where is he? Why isn’t he here?
“Why not?” the red head asked cheerfully. “She already seems to know all about us. That’s hard to come by in a fledgling, and it’s not like you have any, yet-”
Tristan.
“- Besides, it might be fun-“
Where are you?
“-Of course, it’s up to you. I don’t care one way or the other-“
Tristan.
“-better decide before it’s too late-“
Goodbye babes, it’s been fun.
The thunder cracked, but the sound was muted behind a wall of black. There was something in her mouth. The taste was bitter and sharp, like sucking a knife blade. She swallowed. It burned like fire. She swallowed again. And again.
It was an hour or more before she could move. The first thing she did was sit up and touch her neck. The wound was gone. Even the blood had been washed away by the steady drum of rain.
Lennon sat nearby, his knees up and his eyes on her. “I’m Lennon,” he said pointlessly. Then he half-lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey.”
Her eyes skipped around. “Where’s-”
“That red haired guy?” She nodded and Lennon shrugged. “Went back to work, I guess. He’s hunting them. Tristan and his partner.”
“Hunting them? He’s not going to – I mean he won’t…”
“Kill him?”
The words were too horrible to contemplate, but there they were, just the same. Lennon didn’t explain further, so she forced the question out, “Will he?”
Lennon’s expression softened. “Were you guys, you know?” The answer was in her eyes, and he looked away. “I don’t know. It depends, I guess. If he just goes quietly, then probably not.”
Despite his attempt at reassurance, it was impossible to combat her panic. “Why is he after Tristan?”
“I don’t know. They’re wanted for something. Hard to tell.” Lennon fished a soggy pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He tried to slide one out, but it crumbled in his hand. With a mournful sigh he tossed it away. “Maybe because the guy’s telling humans about us. You are - were - human, and he told you.”
Elsa couldn’t argue with that, though the word “were” disturbed her.
Lennon threw the ruined cigarettes away and stood. “We better go. I’ve got to find my brother, then we need to get back to the