Eternity and a Year (8 page)

Carrie froze. She had not expected to meet anyone there, let alone a woman who was dressed as if she had a sun allergy. Her skin was porcelain and extremely pale…

“You!” Carrie snarled. The vampiress was an undead beauty, a creature built of soft, ample curves yet somehow delicate in appearance at the same time. Carrie hated her even more for it. “You!” She dared to take a step towards the vampiress, seething with sudden rage. “You filthy bitch,” she said, Brendan’s description from the night before springing to her lips.

The vampiress actually took a step backwards as Carrie advanced on her.

Carrie clenched her fist tight around the handle of the stun gun she held in her pocket. Would it work on a vampire? If it did, the vampiress would fall and be exposed to the sun, weakened…would the effect be strong enough for Carrie to cut out her heart? She didn’t know how, exactly, she’d do that, but at the moment, she didn’t really care. She could see herself ripping it out with her bare hands. Her vision darkened, and her blood pounded in her ears as she stared at the creature who’d stolen Brendan’s humanity, who’d forced her to send out wedding cancellation notices as she’d grieved for her lost fiancé…

“I think you’re mistaken,” the vampiress said in a surprisingly mild voice. “I can’t be anyone you know.”

“Oh, I know who you are, and I know
what
you are,” Carrie said, taking another step forward, gripping the stun gun in her fist. “You’re a vampire.” She felt a faint sense of ridiculousness at making such a declaration out loud, but it was quickly overpowered by her anger and forgotten.

The vampiress’s eyebrows climbed above the rims of her sunglasses. “How did you know? You’re human—I can smell your blood.”

“You’re not the first vampire I’ve met,” Carrie said.

“Then…” the vampiress eyed Carrie as if debating how much she should reveal to her. “My name is Sophia.” She extended a hand towards Carrie.

Carrie glared down at it with disdain, keeping the stun gun levelled at her. A sharp pang of agony had pierced her heart when the vampiress had announced her name. Before, the vampiress in Carrie’s horrified imaginings had been a nameless, faceless she-devil. Now, she was real.

Sophia eyed the stun gun with interest. “Those won’t work on us. I’ve no idea why, but they don’t. You wouldn’t be the first to try.”

“And I should believe you?” Carrie demanded.

“Go ahead and shoot me with it if you like. I’ve heard it doesn’t even hurt.” Sophia spread her arms in invitation.

Carrie hesitated only a moment before firing.

Sophia looked down at herself. “Actually, it tickles. And now that is settled”—she turned her gaze on Carrie again—“maybe you can help me. I’m looking for another vampire. I have reason to believe he might stay here at times. Do you know if that’s true?”

Carrie’s rage burnt white hot as her suspicions were confirmed—Sophia was looking for Brendan. “Burn in hell,” she snarled. “I’m not going to help you.”

Sophia regarded her calmly. “Who do you think I am?”

Carrie’s face blazed with heat. Her blood pounded more loudly in her ears, and when she spoke, it was as if her voice were far away and not her own. “The monster that turned my fiancé into a vampire.”

“I’m not,” Sophia said evenly. “You’re mistaken.”

“Oh, well, that clears that up,” Carrie said sarcastically. “I guess I’ll lead you straight to him now, just like you asked.” Burning nausea boiled in the pit of her stomach, and she clenched her fists tight as she listened to Sophia lie, reminding her she still held her useless weapon. She thrust it into her pocket.
Damn, why couldn’t that gun have worked on this monster?

“I’m not her,” Sophia repeated. “But I do know who you’re talking about.”

Carrie glared at her.

“Your fiancé,” Sophia continued, “he was turned into a vampire by a ‘filthy bitch’ of a vampiress? Did it happen about a year ago?”

Carrie nodded.

“And does he have scars from his transformation”—she moved her white-gloved hand to rest at her groin—“here?”

Carried nodded again, swallowing a large lump in her throat.

“It was her, then,” the vampiress said with a nod. “Isadora.”

Carrie blinked back tears and licked her lips, which had gone suddenly dry in stark contrast to her eyes. “How do you know?”

Sophia’s pale face darkened, as if it had fallen under a sudden shadow. “That filthy bitch…” she said, “I’m hunting her.”

Carrie shoved a hand deep into her other pocket, grasping the object she found there and withdrawing it. The screen of her cell phone glared dully in the daylight as she dialled Brendan’s new number. “I need to know something,” she said when he picked up.

“What is it?” Brendan asked.

“Promise!” she urged. “Promise you’ll answer me!”

There was a pause from the other end of the line. “All right,” he finally said. “What do you want to know?”

“The vampire who…who changed you,” she said. “What did she look like?”

Brendan exhaled sharply. “Carrie…”

“What did she look like?” she repeated, her voice taut with urgency.

“Pale,” Brendan replied. “She was pale, with long dark hair down to her waist. She was tall—almost as tall as I am.” He paused for another moment. “Why, Carrie? Why do you want to know?”

Carrie abruptly snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into her pocket, surveying Sophia critically. She was certainly pale, and although her hair was blonde, that didn’t mean anything—she could easily have changed its colour. Her height, though…the vampiress who stood before Carrie was petite, a mere five foot four, at most, and that was including whatever shoes she wore beneath her long dress. Brendan was an even six feet tall. Was it possible the vampiress hadn’t been lying?

Carrie’s cell phone rang loudly in her pocket, once, twice, then a third time. She ignored its desperate fourth ring.

“Why are you hunting her?” Carrie asked.

“For the same reason you would be, if you were me,” Sophia replied. “She killed my husband.”

Carrie blanched. “Killed?”

Sophia nodded. “You don’t know? Oh, of course you don’t.” She frowned.

“Know what?” Carrie asked, beginning to feel frantic.

“That’s what she does,” Sophia replied, “to all of the men she changes. She leaves them and comes back a year later to use them and kill them afterwards.”

Carrie’s jaw dropped, and her mouth widened in horror. “That’s why she’s here?” A hollow pit opened in her stomach—even the nausea had been better than this sudden, painful emptiness, she thought.

Sophia nodded.

“Can’t—can’t he…fight her?” Carrie stammered.

“He could,” Sophia said, “but it wouldn’t do much good.”

“Why?” Carrie asked. “Why not?”

“Vampires strengthen as they age,” Sophia explained. “And she’s quite old. I’m not sure exactly how old, but I know she’s been around for at least two hundred years. A vampire of one year is no match for any vampire that age.”

Carrie’s knees wobbled beneath her at Sophia’s revelation. “How old are you?” she asked.

“I became a vampire twenty-three years ago,” she replied.

“That’s it?” Carrie asked miserably. “I thought you said you were hunting her.”

“I am.” Sophia’s voice was sharp and determined.

“But how—” Carrie began.

“I said that vampires gain strength as they age,” Sophia interrupted. “I didn’t say aging is the
only
way for a vampire to become stronger.”

A small surge of hope sprang to life in Carrie. “What other ways are there?”

“There’s only one,” Sophia said, “and that’s to absorb the strength of other vampires.”

“How do you do that?” Carrie was curious but had a distinct feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.

“You and your fiancé, have you been…intimate since he was changed?” Sophia eyed Carrie askance as she spoke, as if doubting Carrie’s flimsy human body could have held up to the carnal attentions of a vampire.

Carrie nodded.

“Then you know that vampires are just as sexual as—if not more so than—humans,” Sophia continued. “But when two vampires have sex, it’s different. They leave a little bit of themselves behind with their partner…a permanent imprint on their soul.”

“So…” Carrie frowned as she mulled over Sophia’s ambiguous claim. What did it mean?

“A vampire’s sexual partner, or partners, become a part of them, forever,” Sophia explained. “And if a vampire dies, their strength is transferred to the vampire or vampires they made love to, called by the mark they left on the soul of the one they loved, or at least made love to. Some say it’s a way of ensuring the survival of our species, since we can’t reproduce.”

 
“So this Isadora, she seduces other vampires then kills them afterwards so she can have their strength?” Carrie’s knees quivered, threatening to give way.

Sophia nodded. “That’s why she changes men and returns a year later. It gives them just enough time to gain a little strength, but not enough to resist her. She knows they probably won’t have mated with another vampire during that time, either, so all their strength will be transferred to her instead of divided among other partners.”

Carrie gasped. “And that’s what you’ve done, too, so you could become strong enough to get revenge on her?” She eyed Sophia in abhorrence.

“Not quite,” Sophia said. “I’ve never changed a human, and I’ve never taken a vampire against his will. But I’ve spent the last twenty-three years seducing as many vampires as I could, killing the weaker ones and hoping the ones too strong for me to kill would die.”

“That’s…that’s horrible,” Carrie said.

Sophia’s expression sobered and she nodded. “It is,” she said. “I am. I’ll do almost anything to get revenge.” She paused, frowning. “But in a way…it
is
a mercy for me to kill them. The life of a vampire…well, it would be better to be dead.”

Carrie barely heard Sophia’s last statement, for a horrible realisation had struck her. Her stomach plummeted to her toes, and nausea threatened to overcome her. “That’s why you came here…for Brendan. You were going to do that to him.” She stared at Sophia with renewed hatred.

Sophia nodded curtly. “I was, but I will not. There is one sin I will not commit, even in the name of revenge. I will not take anyone else’s mate. I never have, and I never will. If I did, I wouldn’t be any better than her, and…what would be the point?”

A small wave of relief washed over Carrie. The last thing she needed was another vampiress pursuing Brendan. “So, then,” she said, “are you finally strong enough to defeat her? Is that why you’re here?” Carrie wouldn’t have a hard time forgiving her if that were the case.

Sophia gazed down at her body as if considering its curves. She stretched one white-gloved hand before her eyes. “I think I am,” she said, suddenly balling it into a fist. “If I don’t fry myself out here in the sun,” she added, casting a longing glance towards Brendan’s dilapidated warehouse. She pushed the door open with one delicate hand and stepped into the dark shelter the building afforded.

Carrie stepped over the threshold and joined her in the building’s dank interior. “Please,” she said, “please succeed. Don’t let her hurt him.” Her eyes watered as she thought of Brendan, and the cell phone in her pocket rang, as if he’d heard her thoughts.

“Brendan,” she said as she answered it. After the storm her emotions had just weathered, the sound of his voice was a welcome reprieve. She couldn’t wait to feel his arms around her.

“Carrie. Where are you? What’s going on? Why were you asking me about—about…?” Brendan sounded suspicious and worried.

“I met another vampire,” Carrie said, steeling herself for Brendan’s reaction.

Brendan’s cursing exploded in her ear, uncharacteristically vehement.

“It’s not her,” she said, knowing he would know she meant Isadora. “I asked you what she looked like so I could be sure this vampire wasn’t her.”

He cursed again.

“She’s much too short,” Carrie added as an afterthought.

“Who, then?” Brendan asked, bewildered. “Who did you meet?”

“We just stepped inside. You can meet her now if you come down to the ground floor,” Carrie said. “See you in a minute.”

“Wait!” Brendan protested before Carrie could shut the cell phone. “What do you mean you ‘just stepped inside’?”

“We’re here on the ground floor of your building,” Carrie explained.

Silence rang across the connection. “I told you,” Brendan finally said, “I’m not there.”

Carrie’s stomach contracted into a tight ball. “I thought you might just have said that to keep me away. I didn’t think it was true. Where are you?”

“I’m still in Charlotte,” he replied. “I’m just in another part of the city. I can’t come to you in the daylight.”

“I’ll come—” Carrie began, but was silenced as something struck her hard across the face, sending her cell phone flying. She reeled and stumbled, seeing silver fireworks blossom in the darkness to which her eyes had yet to grow accustomed. A white blur glowed for a moment in the faint light admitted by the partially open door. Skin, she realised. Her attacker seemed at first to be little more than white flesh, wrapped in a dark dress but still mostly exposed. Then, as Carrie’s vision adjusted to the dim light, she made out the outline of her assailant’s hair, voluminous and as dark as night, reaching all the way to its owner’s trim waist. Two dull red eyes stared down at her from a face that might have once been lovely but had long since acquired the distinct lines of cruelty that could not coexist with beauty. Her attacker lunged forward in a white flash and closed her cold, strong hand around Carrie’s throat.

Carrie sputtered and choked beneath Isadora’s iron grasp. Through bulging eyes she spotted Sophia, poised to attack.

“Touch me, and I’ll snap her neck,” Isadora hissed in a slight, unplaceable accent that suggested foreign origin, or perhaps just the intonations and cadences of an era long past.

The steely noose of Isadora’s grip tightened around Carrie’s neck in demonstration, and blackness began to invade her vision.

Sophia hesitated, and Isadora barked a cruel laugh. “It’s funny,” she said, “to see a vampire hesitate out of concern for a human life, after taking so many.” She laughed again, and her breasts pressed against the back of Carrie’s throbbing head as they rose in cruel amusement.