Lilith/Cain

Arthur held a large paper bag with both hands as he made his way up the street. There was construction going on at the end of Angie's block and the noise was deafening. He only crossed over to that side after he was already directly across from the apartment building.

The sound was only slightly diminished after the front door was shut behind him, but he was grateful for any small relief.

He decided to take a chance with the ancient elevator. Carrying this many gallons of liquid up ten flights was probably the more dangerous option at his age.

Vivian was at the window, glaring at the end of the block through a thin slit in the curtain when he entered the dark apartment.

Callie rented a small studio directly underneath Angie. The kitchenette was separated from the bedroom by a counter. He placed his bag on that counter with a small sigh of relief. "Sorry that took so long, the lot out back is full and it took forever to find a space."

Sibyl was on the other side of the counter so quickly it was like she appeared out of thin air. He reached into the bag and pulled out a small white bottle. She snatched it from him before he could hold it out to her. She put it in the microwave and jabbed at the buttons. She tapped her nails on the counter impatiently while it hummed.

Arthur kept an eye on her as he unpacked at least a dozen bottles, plus two half gallon jugs. "Butcher told me to say hi."

If Sibyl heard him she didn't give any indication of it. The microwave still had thirty seconds on it but she pulled open the door and retrieved the bottle. She opened it and downed it in three gulps. She was so hasty that a bead of pig's blood leaked out of the corner of her mouth.

Next she grabbed one of the jugs, but didn’t bother with the microwave. She tore off the top and began chugging it with a speed that reeked of desperation.

All Arthur could do was stare. “Thirsty?” he asked her frankly.

Once the jug was empty she pulled her mouth away. “A little…” Her bright red eyes darted around nervously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She lifted up her hood in an attempt to cover her face. “Excuse me. I didn’t want to leave Callie all alone, so I haven’t seen Butcher in a few days.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. We all have our low moments.”

Vivian turned away from the window. “You’re with friends now, so it’s okay to be how you are.” She spoke reassuringly, a kind smile tugging her lips.

Sibyl’s shoulders jerked. “Friends?” She sounded lost, as if Vivian’s words were light at the end of a dark tunnel. “Angie’s my friend, and I guess Gabriel is okay.” She turned to face the bed where Callie lay. “And I love Callie so much…” Her voice broke.

Vivian was at her side the next second, a hand on her shoulder. “We’re here for you. You’re Angie’s precious friend and that makes you important to us. We’re going to do our best for Callie. She’s been there for Angie through hard times and we’re not going to let her slip away.”

Sibyl glanced at the medical tape on Vivian’s exposed forearm, then looked away quickly. “You’ve already given so much.”

“It was an emergency, right? I’m the last person to be afraid of a little needle. I haven’t lost a patient in over ten years and I’m not going to start today.”

Sibyl looked over at Callie, who was lying as still as death itself. A feeding tube was taped to her cheek and connected to an IV bag hanging by the bed. “I just wish I knew what was going on. Why won’t she eat?”

“She’s definitely not well, but that’s due to malnutrition. Tell us more about what led up to this.” Vivian led Sibyl over to the edge of the bed and the two women sat down together.

While they talked Arthur busied himself with cleaning up. It seemed that neither vampire was exactly a neat freak. He put the remainder of the blood in the nearly empty fridge and made a mental note to head back to Butcher’s place soon. He gathered up empty bottles from the counter, floor, and corners, then deposited them in the recycled-trash bin. After that he tackled the pile of laundry in the corner by the bed, bagging it up and placing it next to the door. He would put it in the machine downstairs before he left.

“Do you know who Papa is?” Vivian asked gently.

Sybil shook her head sadly. “Her biological father is dead, so is her mother. She made it seem that he was the cause of her condition. That he was punishing her.”

“Has anyone strange been hanging around?”

“No one. Only half the apartments here have tenants and the last ones to move in were Gabriel and Angie. We’re the only ones on this floor so no one even comes up here.”

“Some of the other tenants are also vampires, right?” Arthur asked suddenly.

Sybil’s head snapped up. The expression under her hood was worried. “Two. One on the second floor and one on the fourth.” Her voice started to rise in panic. “They’re both customers of Butcher’s though, so I don’t think they-”

Arthur cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I’m not asking in a professional capacity. I left my beheading days behind me.” His expression was frank, but she was still troubled by the dark look in his eyes. “That’s why you have a half full apartment in the middle of Manhattan. Influence tends to keep humans away.”

“What about Angie?”

“She’s used to influence. Regular humans don’t understand what it is, but they can still feel it. Like a chill in the air, or bad vibes. A friend of mine studied it in depth a while back, said that a vampire’s voice resonates on different frequencies humans can’t hear, but we can still feel the vibrations. I bet this place has a reputation for being haunted.”

“It does. Someone posted a bad review on a few rental websites. The Landlord was pissed.”

“Plus that elevator is more of a deathtrap than the one at Viv’s place. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few vengeful spirits floating around.”

Suddenly the sound of jackhammering cut through the room, causing Vivian to throw her hands in the air in exasperation. “Just how big do they plan on making that building?!” She marched over to the window and glared out to the end of the block.

“You’re not angry at construction work, are you?” Arthur asked. “It’s annoying, but this city is growing every day and we’ve run out of anywhere to go but up.”

Her tense shoulders deflated. “Actually I’m just bitter that Adamson is getting an even tighter chokehold on this city. That ugly tower isn’t enough for him? What is the Mayor thinking?”

Arthur chuckled. He had fully learned by now Vivian’s hatred of Capitalism. “You just dislike businessmen that find legal ways to cheat, unlike your father.”

She whirled around. “Papi was an honest gangster!” she cried indignantly. “Tax fraud,” she sneered in derision. “His books were cleaner than a newborn baby’s bottom.” She returned her glare to the window as she folded her arms across her chest. “Nowadays the big corporations don’t break the laws, they just write new ones.”

Her eyes shifted to the distance, further uptown. A tall black spire grew out of the cityscape, towering over the other buildings. It reflected no light during the day, but gleamed under moonlight. “It’s an ugly thorn sticking up out of the ground,” she muttered to herself.

Movement on the bed behind her caused her to turn around sharply. Callie shifted weakly under the covers. She hurried to the vampire’s side in an instant, Sybil joining her on the other side. “Callie?”

Callie’s eyes were closed and she moved like she was having a bad dream. She reached up and pulled weakly at the feeding tube. Vivian undid the tape and gently pulled out the tube. “Mama, don’t let them take you,” Callie murmured once she could speak. “Black coats, silver eyes… Such dead eyes...”

Vivian took Callie’s hand in both of hers and squeezed tightly. “Callie, open your eyes for us. It’s okay. You’re with friends.”

She clenched her eyes tightly, as if to prevent them from opening. “No, he’ll see. Papa will know where you are.”

“Who’s Papa, Callie? Who’s doing this to you?”

Her lips pursed as if she was trying to speak, but the words didn’t come. “Pen.”

Vivian patted her pockets, searching for something to write with. Sybil pulled out a ballpoint pen from her hoodie and held it out to her. Vivian took the pen and put it into Callie’s hand.

Callie’s other hand shot out quickly, gripping Vivian’s wrist like a vice. She pulled her closer and pressed the tip of the pen to the back of her hand. Vivian’s eyes widened as she began to draw on her skin, all while her eyes were tightly closed.

She dug the tip of the pen into her skin hard enough to hurt at some points, causing Vivian to gasp. Arthur started to move forward, but Vivian waved him away. He hung back, but watched the proceedings carefully.

Once Callie was done she released Vivian and immediately went limp. Sybil reached for her, and discovered she was unconscious again.

Vivian stared at the black mark on the back of her hand, tinged with pink around it where Callie had pressed the pen too hard. “It’s the same,” she said hollowly.

Arthur was by her side the next instant. She held up the back of her hand to show him. “It’s exactly the same.”

Drawn on the back of her hand was a thin black sword. The point of the blade was downward, piercing a mass of black briar. The thorny vines grew upwards, as if reaching for the sword.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “The person who did this to Callie is the same one that’s after you.”

xxxXXXxxx

Dexter Barnes studied the letter in his hand, his mouth twisting in concentration. This was definitely where they were supposed to meet…

LaGuardia airport bustled all around him as he stood there, carry-on over his shoulder and suitcase at his side. He looked up at the signboard. His flight had even been late. Surely that meant someone would have been waiting for him by now.

The letter in his hand was written on fine stationery, with a letterhead on top. The symbol next to the letterhead was a simply one. The silhouette of a thin black sword, pointing downwards. The rest of the letter was handwritten, instructing him where to wait after he got off the plane.

He folded the letter up and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He was wearing his heavy brown winter coat as the temperature when he’d left France was hovering just above ten degrees. Unseasonably cold for the time of the year, yes, but he blamed global climate change.

“Where are you…” he muttered to himself as his eyes scanned the throngs of people. They widened suddenly as they spotted a familiar figure, slightly taller than the rest. “Simon!”

Simon Merrick grinned as he threaded through the crowds over to him. “Sorry I’m late, got caught up in work.”

Simon was half a foot taller than Dexter, but not as wide. Born from a Welsh father and an Indian mother, his features were delightfully exotic. The bones of his face were delicate and his skin was kissed with a cinnamon glow. His eyes were black glass.

Dexter held his hand out for a shake but Simon pulled him in for a hug. “It’s been too long!” he declared.

“I had to wait till winter break. I couldn’t leave my students.”

Simon pulled away. “I keep telling you that you don’t need to be there anymore. We got what we wanted. Hell, more than that!”

A shadow passed over Dexter’s eyes. “I didn’t want to leave them right after what happened. Kieran’s still learning his role as Headmaster and I couldn’t just abandon those girls.”

“Right, yes, the girls.” Simon turned to stand next to Dexter, lifting his suitcase up easily and swinging it as they walked. His other arm rested around Dexter’s shoulders. “You’ve been spending your time with a sea of cute French teens and leaving me to carry on by myself.”

Dexter raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you jealous of me or the girls?”

“Both,” he answered seriously.

They made their way outside, and found a black limo waiting for them. Simon grinned while Dexter gaped in disbelief. “This is a bit posh, don’t you think?” he asked his old friend.

“Oh, this is only the beginning,” Simon assured him as he clapped him on the back.

The driver stepped out of the car. She was tall and wore a long black coat. Her hair was long and pale blond, though it was shaved close to the skin on her right side. Her eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.

Another woman, similarly dressed, but with short auburn hair stepped up as well. Simon handed the suitcase to her and she carried it over to the trunk.

“You’re Dexter Barnes?” the blond woman asked him. Her tone was business-like.

“The one and only,” Simon answered for him, pride in his voice. “And that’s ‘Professor’ now.”

“Get in the car.” The woman turned and went back to the Driver’s door. The other one was already in the passenger’s seat.

Simon held the door open for Dexter. “Don’t mind her, she’s always had a glass stick up her ass. She’ll break it if she’s not too careful.” He grinned towards the driver’s seat.

Dexter adjusted his glasses as he settled into his seat. “It’s lovely meeting the both of you, err…”

“Smith,” both women answered at once.

“Miss Smith.” He nodded to the driver. “Miss Smith.” He nodded to the attendant. “So, where are we heading?” He wanted to go right to the hotel for a shave and a rest, but it didn’t look like that would be their destination.

“First thing’s first,” Simon said to him. “Gotta meet the boss.”