Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) (95 page)

“Oh, she won't want to murder you.” Yugo corrected Zack.

“Then what?” Zack couldn't see any other course of action for her.

Yugo hesitated. “I'm not sure you'll want to know, Zack.”

“I think I can take it.” Zack replied.

“She wants to reverse the ritual that made the demons more than six thousand years ago.” Yugo had laid it down on Zack.

“I don't get it.” Zack tilted his head. He was drawing a blank. “How can you reverse something that happened that long ago?”

“She can't.” Salas said in protest to the idea. “The best she can hope for is to-” Salas stopped his own line of thought.

“What? All she can do is what?” Zack said out loud to Salas.

“So the demon has an understanding of what she's really attempting to do? Tell me, what does the great Salas have planned to escape this destiny?” Yugo was asking for a direct answer from Zack's demon.

“Nothing. He stopped talking to me. I think what you said upset him.” Zack explained.

“Aw, the demon has feelings.” Yugo laughed.

“Shut up you half eaten prick. I don't want to hear shit from your rotting ass, Crescial.” Salas was angry at Yugo. He let a name slip, something he had never said before.

“Who's Crescial?” Zack asked Yugo.

Zack felt the pressure of a hand on his right shoulder. The scent was of several types of blood at once. A flurry of smells that wafted to his nose. It was familiar, but this was the first time Zack had sensed it before. His vampeal nose was lighting up new areas in his memory.

“I think this is a good time for Zack to retire.” Marin's voice was sharp and commanding. He was cutting Zack's question short, on purpose.

Zack nodded slowly. Sensing that he better not contest Marin's suggestion. Yugo waved goodbye as Zack turned back and left with Marin towards the limo. Ellen was patiently waiting for them, opening the door with a smile. Marin got in first, then Zack.

Before Ellen closed the door, he spoke to Zack quickly. “I see you made it out alive. And with some information. Good to see you're following in his footsteps, Zack. You'll need to be crafty for what's coming.”

Ellen walked around to the front, started the engine, and they were all off to Zack's apartment.

* * * *

Three days passed as Zack spent most of his hours with Salas. Zack's room was deteriorating. Worn, unwashed clothes were scattered across the floor. There was a growing smell that was unpleasant, radiating from his laundry bin. John hadn't been able to come by the apartment, between his work and Diane. Zack was alone, completely forsaken in his moment of doubt.

In the dream world, Zack's legs were propped on a sand mound, overlooking the beach. He was shirtless, and in black board shorts. Taking in the artificial sun he was creating. He was playing with the weather, causing it to rain sporadically.

“It's like a faucet.” Zack laughed, smiling wide.

Salas' long coat flapped in the wind, blocking Zack's view on purpose.

“Hey, what's that for.” Zack objected.

“I'm making a point. Sitting here, in this world is killing you. It's killing me.” Salas was serious. He was taking a dark tone with Zack.

Zack put his legs down. He leaned forward with a sigh. “Then what do you think I should do now? I know I'm nothing like you, Salas. I know that's what you're thinking about. That's why you're angry at me, isn't it?” Zack was using his gift even in the dream world, against his own demon at that.

“You really are too damn good at this you know.” Salas said to Zack with a fed up tone.

“I thought that was a good thing. You say it like you regret what I've been able to do with what you've given me.” Zack didn't know why Salas was acting the way he was.

“You have been doing well, I'll be the first to admit that. But there is a down side you will soon find.” Salas knelt down to Zack's level. “You'll begin hearing them all one day.” Salas put his index and middle finger to the side of his right forehead. “With each use, the gift becomes stronger, reinforced. Like a channel, it has to be dug. There will come a time when it reaches a climax.”

“Is that what happened with you?” Zack was worried what this might mean for him.

“No. That's never happened to me. Remember, I am the source of this gift. I can wield it without penalty or limit. The mind is my playground as it is for you here.” Salas stood back up, extending his hand to Zack.

“I need to show you what I mean.” Salas pulled Zack up.

Zack took the invitation.

“Are you ready?” Salas asked.

Zack gulped, clearing his throat. “Yeah.”

Salas smiled. “Then let's walk into my past for a change.”

The beach melted away in a sudden flash of fire and rain hailing down from a black sky. The scene had been ripped, torn from Salas' memories. In the middle of a bustling town, there was a bright red haired woman with a buxom figure, strolling though the street. The entire memory was dulled, almost colorless, fading into shades of gray and brown. The exception was this stunning redhead in the middle of the road. Her eyes a lush deep, detailed blue. Her face light and youthful. She was a stark contrast to the world around her.

“Her name is Moira.” Salas said with a longing in his voice.

“Moira, I've heard that name before. Wasn't she one of your hosts?” Zack recalled what he could.

“Just watch.” Salas instructed.

Three men at the end of the street, at a corner, began to scheme. Their thoughts were loud and blatant to the young woman. Zack and Salas could hear them clearly as well. They intended to harm and murder her in the nearest alley. The woman turned, saving herself from their makeshift plan.

The memory changed. Salas stood still, waiting for the memory to form. The woman was sitting now. In a large pub, by herself she was eating and drinking quietly, not disturbing a soul. The room was filled with the townspeople. More than fifty were present.

“What is this? What's going on?” Zack looked around.

“It will explain itself. Listen and watch carefully.” Salas told Zack to shut up politely.

The inner voices of the people around Moira grew loud. She shouted, “Stop it! You're all talking at once! Stop it!” Her outburst silenced the room. “No, please, you're still too loud! Everyone, please!” Moira was talking to herself, practically screaming it.

A shadowy figure appeared over her left shoulder. A cloak of black thorns gave way to a memory of Salas himself. He spoke to Moira. “It's the gift Moira. I've told you that before. The more you use it, the greater it will open their minds to you.” Salas whispered into her other ear with a quick movement. “Especially if you don't want it to. It will force its way into who you are. With each act, it will become intuitive, instinctual for you to use.”

“But I can't help it.” Moira said out loud to Salas.

“Careful, always answer me without words. Otherwise they will become suspicious. You need to drink more, Moira. This is happening because you haven't fed. You are a vampire now Moira. You need to drink blood.” Salas was informing Moira of the destination of her current actions.

Moira concentrated, replying to Salas in her head. “I'm not going to do that, I told you already. If I drink blood, you'll change me, I won't be myself anymore. I don't want that.”

“Than this is the alternative. Madness by population.” Salas laid the grim truth on Moira.

The building around them, the whole of the memory dispersed and reformed once more. Moira was now walking down the same street. The same band of men were waiting at the end of the street, ready to pounce on her. Moira had made it nearly there and was about to turn when she heard their thoughts. They were planning to drag her in from where she was. Moira screamed out, the men were a good distance from her, seemingly doing nothing wrong.

“They're going to mug and kill me! Help! Help!” Moira ran away, back up the street.

The men weren't stupid, they had expected her reaction. They called out “Witch! Witch! She's been seeing the future!” More slanderous comments soon followed.

The memory collapsed, returning to the serene beach in a haze of mist and smoke.

“So that's my fate, eh? To be set on fire by a mob.” Zack joked. He didn't see the point of Salas' fable.

“No, Zack. You won't burn.
We
will never burn. If that were to happen to you, they would notice how the flames wouldn't touch you. Then they would begin to use more extreme methods of executing you. Things that
would
work.” Salas told Zack.

“Was Moira actually set on fire that night, Salas?” Zack feared the answer.

“No.” Salas continued. “It was two nights later when the mob tracked her down. She had sought shelter in a supposedly abandoned building when she came across a family.”

“You mean she-” Zack was worried.

“Yes, they tried to run to alert the mob and she accidentally killed them. Not realizing that there was a young baby in the other room.” Salas explained.

Zack's heart sank. He knew where this was going.

“It took twenty seven hours for Moira to give in to her needs. Eventually, she was hungry enough to forgo her morality.” Salas smiled. “When she came out of the building crying over what she had done, she was instantly drug out to the mob. She almost didn't resist. Moira was tied and bound to a large tree trunk shortly after.”

“And that's when they burned her?” Zack asked.

“They didn't get the chance. Orhn saved her life.” Salas sighed. “You do understand, right? The need for blood. The less of it you have, the more this form of the gift will affect you. It will eat you, far sooner than I.”

“Then I'm dead either way?” Zack wanted to give up again. A feeling of hopelessness hit him.

“No, I've told you before. You can live a long life through me.” Salas knew that his temptation would not work on Zack, not now. Not the way he was pursuing it. He clenched his right fist. He had decided that withholding certain events he had been through, wouldn't be the best way to keep both of them alive. “There is another way.”

Zack had his head bowed down, mulling over his options. “What?” He said while holding his own face in his hands.

“It's about what Crescial said. About the letter.” Salas admitted there was far more to it than he wanted to acknowledge. “The other demons all have their own separate agendas, but many years ago, I was approached by one that offered to teach me a new way of existing.”

Zack lit up. “Who? Was it the girl in the letter?”

Salas laughed with hesitation in his voice. He wasn't sure if he should tell Zack. He remembered the feeling of standing in the girl's presence. It was a physical pressure that he was able to feel in his flesh. This women, this awakened demon vampire had reached a level that he desperately wanted. Salas had always yearned for the power she had found and held onto. The memory sent him back to the moment when he first saw her.

Salas had just taken over Love's body. He was with Rebekkah in a nameless village somewhere in eastern Asia. Rebekkah had gone to sleep for the day. Salas was sitting guard near the opening of the small hut they had constructed. The boulder Salas had pulled into place to block the entrance was more than sufficient to protect them from anything that came along.

It meant nothing against
her
. The stone barrier shifted in front of Salas' eyes. There was no mental chatter to speak of. Whoever it was, they were calm and collected enough not to second guess themselves before attacking him, or so Salas thought. The rock seemed to melt away as Salas watched a young woman walk through the cut opening in the granite. Her medium blond hair was the same hue as Love's. Her thin frame mirrored a likeness to Love's as well. She smiled at the recognition of their similarities. The smile was not reciprocated in Salas, the moment he saw her cold, solid black eyes. Salas knew what she was, awakened.

Salas flinched back.

“Don't worry, Salas. I haven't come to kill you or stop you.” The woman calmly said in a soft, confidant voice. She had come there with a purpose she was about to share. “My name is Sophialla Ashmore. I am an-”

“I know exactly what you are by the shaking of my hands as I unconsciously brace myself against the rocks behind me. You are the very abomination that I have prayed to become for the last four and a half thousand years. You are a fully awakened demon vampire. The epitome of my dreams, incarnate.” Salas' arms were still shaking as he backed into the hut.

“You are completely right, Salas. But you have no real comprehension of the void that divides our current power. Your body understands it because its physical vessel hasn't been altered by you enough. You are not in sync with her. She is only a puppet to you. Love abandoned her flesh to you, nothing more. You are wasting your existence in her.” Sophialla told Salas.

“Then you have come here to end my path?” Salas was ready for whatever Sophialla may do, but his body wasn't. He remained shaking, uncontrollably.

“I said I have no intention of killing you Salas. I've come to tell you there is another way to kill Fear.” Sophialla's words were gold to Salas. She could tell he wanted to hear more. “Taking Love after what Fear did to her was inevitable. I saw that coming, and I'm not even a psychic.”