Mercy's Debt (Montgomery's Vampires Series Book One) (12 page)

My heart sank.
“Really? Have we already been together for five hours?”

“I am
afraid so,” he said sullenly. “Actually, we have been talking a lot longer than that.”

“Well,
I
don’t
need
to go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You will not
get into some kind of trouble from working overtime?”

I frowned.
Great; yet another awkward conversation about our time together.

“
I didn’t mean that I wanted to
bill
you
for my time or anything. I would just like to hear the rest of your story,” I said quickly. “Off the clock.”

“
I see. Well, I would like to carry on our evening together as well,” he said.

“Good.”

He settled back again, continuing with his narrative. “What happened next in the story is difficult for me to discuss, as I am unable to distinguish between what was hallucination and what was reality.

“
I am certain that I had been asleep in the stable for hours before Leopold found me. I know this to be fact because the sky had turned black during my restless slumber.

“Leopold
was frantic, slapping me hard across the face, shrieking for me to wake up. I opened my eyes, and he hysterically asked me if I wanted to live. I cackled madly in response, amused that he had thought to ask such a senseless question when I was so close to the brink of death.

“It was
the sting that brought me back to consciousness. It was an entirely new pain from what I was used to. It centered on my jugular, but at the same time it numbed the aching in my lungs. It was like nothing I had ever felt, like a bee string, injection, sunburn, animal bite, and a sexual release occurring in the same spot simultaneously.

“I realized, then, that Leopold was draining my blood. When he pulled away from my neck, he bit his own wrist and made me dri
nk from the wound. I resisted, but the strength of a human is no match for that of a vampire.

“
I woke up in my bed two days later as a creature of the night.” He said this easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “My tuberculosis was cured, but I did have a newly acquired aversion to the sun.” He raised his eyebrows cheekily.

My brain flooded with questions. I had to check myself before I bombarded him with
all ten thousand of them.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “W
here was Leopold when you woke up?”

“He was ri
ght next to my bed. He had quite a bit of convincing to do before I fully believed him about what I had become.”

“Where is he now?”

“He still resides in England. I see him every few years.”

“When did you leave him?”

“I remained with Leopold for a little over forty years. As we grew closer, he increased my job duties, eventually giving me my own factory in London, and then my own division of the company in America.

“
Since we spent so much time together, and because we were both so pale, we began to tell the humans who inquired about our association that we were brothers. As such, I went by the surname Sorin for a time.

“
You will find, Mercy, that most vampires have had several surnames throughout the years, depending on their age. We must constantly reinvent ourselves in order to avoid persecution and to keep any suspecting humans off our scent. Remember, there was a time when we did not have blood banks,” he said tellingly.

I shivered
, wondering how many ‘suspecting humans’ he’d sampled.

“
Leopold and I claimed that we both suffered from a rare skin pigment deficiency that made us extremely susceptible to sunburn. All the same, the humans grew leery of us because we never aged.

“
Leopold and I decided that it would be best if we separated. My first move away from my maker was back into London. My next was to America in 1912.”

“You said your last name was
Sorin.
How did you become
Bramson
?”

He looked out the window. “I am
afraid that this story will have to be my last.” His grip on my hand tightened. “I would stay with you all night and all day if I could, but the evil sun would not allow such a thing.”

“Gotcha,” I said, cringing at the thought of this beautiful man bu
rsting into flames. “Is sunlight the only thing that can kill you?” I asked quickly.

“Yes and no. We
can be killed just like a mortal man if we do not drink blood within a few hours after being fatally injured. This is why Leopold would have died in the factory had I not given him the thief’s blood to drink. As vampires, we can have stakes pushed through our hearts, be burned- by fire only, the sun will
always
kill us- and be beheaded, but we will not be permanently harmed if we consume human blood.”

“So you’re not so tough after all,” I said sarcastically. “Okay, so tell me how you became Robert Bramson,” I commanded.

“
This piece of personal history dates back to around 1895. It revolves around a run-in I had with a human Irish writer fellow named Abraham.

“Abraham,
like Leopold, was a thriving member of London’s high society. I never grew to know him very well, though, for reasons that will soon become clear.

“
One evening during a function, Abraham and I got to chatting about the book he was working on at the time. His latest novel, he told me, was on the subject of a supernatural nobleman from Transylvania, a dark immortal who drank blood from human victims.

“
In order to create this monster- and those were his words,
monster
- he had spent the last few years researching Eastern European folklore. The evil deeds he described this creature carrying out were very similar to what Leopold and I did on a nightly basis.

“I was inwardly horrified as I
listened to Abraham speak, and for a moment, I contemplated luring the man away from the function and murdering him. He was, however, the first human that I had ever encountered who had come so close to uncovering my secret. This fascinated me, and so I decided to wait on killing him.

“
When Abraham finished outlining his tale, I slapped him on the back, commending him for having a wild and wicked imagination. I departed his company shortly thereafter, and avoided him for the rest of his years in London.

“
Had it not been for Leopold’s mindreading talents, I would have believed that Abraham knew of vampires, and that he was merely toying with me. But he did not, Leopold assured me. Amazingly, he had invented the story all on his own.

“Abraham’s
words dismayed me on such a level that I never forgot his name. When I moved to America, I decided to create a moniker based on my brief acquaintanceship with the author, my indirect way of paying homage to his sinister mind. On the ship to Long Island, I came up with the name Bramson,
as in
son of Bram.

“
I figured it was only fair, considering that poor Abraham never had the pleasure of realizing just how close he was to an
actual
vampire.”

My mouth fell open.
“Oh my… Wow. That is even better than seeing Elvis in concert.”

He
threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Oh, Mercy. Whatever will I do after we part company?”

TWELVE

I endeavored
to sleep in on Sunday.

I’d b
een trapped in a foggy mental haze since my Friday night encounter with Robert. As if it wasn’t pitiful enough that the vampire had haunted my thoughts all through Saturday, he’d also become prominent fixture in my dreams during the rare moments that I managed to catch a fleeting wink of sleep.

Sunday morning
offered no reprieve. I’d been stewing over Robert throughout the night and well into sunrise, tossing and turning wretchedly as the light outside changed from black to purple, and then faded to an orangey yellow. Bright rays of sunshine glowed through the curtains, sending orbs of light dancing into my eyes as if to shed light on the futility of losing sleep over a vampire like Robert. I mean, realistically, what did I
really
have to offer the man that he didn’t already have?

Just I’
d finally managed to fall marginally asleep, Liz barged in to my bedroom. She jumped on the edge of the bed, scaring me half to death.

She was nattering in such a riled manner that I thou
ght the apartment was on fire. I lurched out of bed and threw my robe on over my pajamas like a maniac.

Liz didn’t move.

“What the hell is happening?” I yelled.

And then I saw the newspaper.

Liz had the Sunday edition of the
San Francisco Society Times
clutched in her hand. I could only make out the first half of the front-page headline: Business Tycoon Robert Bramson…

I
snapped the paper away from Liz and let out a gasp as I read the full article title:
Business Tycoon Robert Bramson Slums it in Diner
.

That wasn’t even the worst of it. In the center of the page was a
large color photo of the two of us on our date, HOLDING HANDS! Under the photo was a snide caption:
At least he dressed up for the occasion! Robert Bramson and mystery woman get romantic in evening attire over hash browns and pie.

I quickly scanned the article, cringing each time an incriminating phrase jumped o
ff the page at me.

“
The couple talked through the night…”

“They gazed at each other lovingly…”

“He wiped a tear from under her eye…”

“They left together just before dawn…”

I flopped back down on the bed. “Oh,
fuck
,” I cussed.

Liz snatched the paper back from me, letting out an excited squeal. “So, this
really
is
you, then? I can’t believe it!”

I
buried my hands in my face. “I can’t believe this,” I mumbled through my fingers.

“I don’t understand. Why are you upset over this? Is this why you’ve been so secretive lately?
Because you’re dating some big
muckety-muck
businessman? And here I thought you were up to no good!”

I can’t say that I didn’t feel a little smug.
I’d been vindicated, which felt good even though what she believed wasn’t entirely true.

“Whoa! W
hoa! Breathe!” I ordered, attempting to buy some time as I figured out how I was going to explain things to Liz without lying
or
without telling the truth. “And I
know
what you thought,” I added icily.

“
So, who is this guy? He is
gorgeous
, by the way. I mean, Christ almighty, this guy is
way
hotter than any actor or male model that I’ve ever seen.”

“He’
s just somebody I met,” I said dismissively.
Truth.

“Well,
how
did you two meet? And whose dress is that? Have you been holding out on me in the wardrobe department, you wench?” she joked.

“We met
through a mutual acquaintance.”
Truth.
“And the dress… was a loaner from a friend.”
Truth and lie.
The gown
was
technically loaned to me, yes, but Marlena was no friend of mine.

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t know.”
Truth.
“We actually didn’t discuss any future plans because the date ended kind of abruptly.”
Truth
. Because if he didn’t leave the diner immediately, he was going to burst into flames.

“Why don’t you want anyone to
know about the date you two had?”

“It’s complicated.”
Truth.

“
I bet it’s on account of him being a zillionaire and all,” she said knowingly. “He probably has to protect his business because of some ridiculous PR policy.”

I smiled, saying nothing
.
Lie by omission.

“I still don’t understand why the two of
you were in- where is that- Whistle Stop?”

“I, uh…” I stammered.

My phone rang shrilly on my nightstand. Saved by the bell. I looked at the caller id: Dignitary. My face must have revealed something unpleasant, because Liz backed out of the room immediately.

“I’ll let you get that,” she said, and then shut the door as she left.

I braced myself as I
answered the phone. “Hello?” I said sweetly.

“Hello, Mercy.” Marlena snapped. “I have Michael
here on the line with me, too.”

“Mi
chael! Marlena! It’s only ten in the morning!” I babbled nervously. “I thought you two would be sleeping by now.”

“
No,” she said.

“Pardon?”

“I said
no
,” she repeated. “No, we will
not
engage in any sort of idle small talk this morning.”

“Okay
...”

“
Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” she said coldly. “This is not a social call.”

Shit.

The jig was up.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay.”

“We saw the paper,” Michael said blandly.
He sounded embarrassed on behalf of Marlena’s rudeness.

“Right,
” I said cautiously.

“I did make myself clear, did I not?” Marlena asked condescendingly. “So,
what I don’t understand is why I just saw a photo of you holding hands with a
client
in some tacky diner. Several hours after your shift was over, no less.”

“I am so, so sorry,” I said. “Really, it
looks worse than it is. I can explain everything. You see, there was this photographer hiding outside and-”

“Just save it, Mercy!”
Marlena snapped. “I’m centuries old. Don’t you think I know when a
human
is trying to con me?”

“Come on, Marlena!” Michael chimed in. “Go easy.”

Marlena let out a long, irritated sigh. “Look, you’re lucky that I’m tired. It’s late, the sun is up, and I want to go to bed,” she stated crossly. “Since you’re new, Mercy, I am going to cut you slack. Just this one time.”

“Thank you Marlena. I’m so sorry-”

“I’m not finished,” she barked. “I may be cutting you slack, but you need to realize that if I catch you even
thinking
about batting your eyes at another client, I will fire you. Understand?”

“Yes. I got it.”

“Oh, and you better
believe
that you aren’t going to see Robert again. You are to stay far away from him.”

My heart caught in my throat.

“Okay,” I choked out.

“Actually
,” she nagged, “you should be thanking me. I’m doing you a huge favor. Did you know that Robert’s fiancé was one of the girls who disappeared? He
claims
that he has no idea what happened to her, but I have my suspicions.”

Shocked,
my mouth opened and closed like guppy lips. Was there no limit to this woman’s heinousness? “Look, Marlena, I don’t think-”

“I’m bored with thi
s. We’ll talk later,” she said, hanging up on me.

I stared at the phone for a
long time, listening to the incessant beeping of the dial tone. I switched the phone to vibrate, setting it back down on the nightstand. Crawling back into bed, I pulled the covers up high over my face.

F
or the first time since Grams’ death, I cried myself to sleep.

My dreams w
ere plagued with horrible imagery of an unidentifiable villain. Down within the blurred and heavy depths of my slumber, I was certain that the creature wanted to put an end to my life… I tried to run away from my ominous fate, to flee from the murderous
thing
chasing me. But the mushy ground beneath my feet softened, and suddenly I was struggling up to my knees in quicksand. I tried to scream, but no sounds escaped me. Only coughs thick with blood rattled up in my throat, choking me, burning my lungs…. A voice in the distance whispered my name.

“
Mercy…
”

There was a
galloping in the distance, ireful clops that grew louder and louder and then deafening as a man on a stallion drew near. Flames shrouded the red horizon behind him, illuminating the wrench in his grasp as he raised his arm towards the sky.

“
Mercy
…”

I
t was only as I reached out to my princely savior that I saw the rotting flesh dangling from the face of the horse, the maggots spilling from its putrefied eye socket. The man on the beast was no man at all, but a grotesque demon with a rubbery white face, fangs, and translucent bat wings marred with black, pulsating veins. The savage ripped at my shoulders with his skeletal fingers, reached out to steal my soul…

“Mercy!”

My eyes flew open
and I discovered Liz standing over me. I screamed in her face, still delirious from my dream.

She
released my arms and peered down at me curiously.

“
Good. You’re awake,” she said casually. “Have you been taking peyote or something?” she snorted.

“What? What are you talking about?” I
slurred, peering wildly around the room.

“You were just yelling all
sorts of craziness about vampires and horses.”

“I was?” I asked dazedly
, scratching my head. “What time is it?”

“It’s
almost six.”

“At
night
?” I screeched. “Jesus! I slept all day.”

“If anyone is a vampire around here,
Mercy, it’s you,” she teased. She picked up my phone and handed it to me. “Oh, and your cell has been vibrating off the hook all day. I can’t believe that it didn’t wake you up! I could hear it clear in the next room.”

“
I guess I was
really
tired,” I said. I frowned at the phone: eight missed calls.

“Well, I have to get read
y for my date night with David. I just figured I’d do you a solid and wake you up before you clawed your eyes out.”

“Where are you guys going?”

“The movies. I’m dragging him to see that new chick flick about the attorney who falls for the criminal she’s representing. I’m sure that he’ll wind up being innocent in the end,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“David’s going to just
love
that film,” I said sarcastically.

“Yah, right.
I told him that I’ll throw him an extra blowjob sometime, sort of like a ‘get out of
my girlfriend is on the rag
free’ card.”

“Too much information, Liz,” I
snickered.

“I do my best,” she smiled.
She kissed me quickly on the forehead, all the uncomfortable tension between us now gone, and patted my knee. “Okay, gotta go! I’ll see you later,” she called as she left the room.

I pic
ked up my phone and checked my voicemail. The first call was from Michael, asking me to call him back later on a number that was different from the main line at Dignitary. I wrote the number down and listened to the next few calls…

Which
were from Mathew!

I nearly dropped the phone when I heard, “Hi, Mercy. It’s
Matty. Long time, no hear, eh? So, um, I was just wondering how you’ve been. Give me a call, okay?” He then left his number and hung up.

That was the
first
message, which I actually had to listen to three times before I could believe my ears.

Then there was the
second
message: “Hi, Mercy. It’s me again. Listen, I saw you in the paper and it made me think of you. Anyway, call me.”