The Disciple and Other Stories of the Paranormal (16 page)

I was saved, but Violet wasn’t so lucky. The
vampire’s bite had infected her remaining blood. We watched, back
at the safe house, as she began to change.

She lay on a wooden table, bound at the
waist. She remained pale, dead-looking. She was still breathing,
but it was shallow. Her eyes opened and they weren’t human eyes any
more. The pupils were too large and the look in them was too
bestial.

“
Can’t she fight it? Can’t
we stop it somehow?” I was begging and again I knew it was
fruitless.

Armand, the Head of The Order, shook his
head sadly. “I’ve only heard of a few over the ages who could fight
the infection. It’s too late.” He was a big, muscular man, with
chocolate skin, wild curly hair, and a full beard. I saw sorrow in
his kind, brown eyes and knew he was telling the truth. With that
confirmation came the knowledge of what had to be done, what I had
to do.

Violet looked at me and smiled. “Come give
baby girl a hug.” Her voice was wrong – too deep, too
seductive.

I picked up a golden stake and went to her.
But not too close. “I’m here.”

Violet smiled wider. Her eyeteeth elongated.
“Come give baby girl a hug,” she said more strongly.

“
I love you,” I said
quietly.

She lunged towards me, mouth opened, fangs
gleaming. I’d been expecting it. I slammed the stake into her
heart, with so much strength it forced her back and pinned her to
the table, like an obscene butterfly I’d collected.

I knew without asking that I hadn’t had to
be the one who did this. One of the others would have exterminated
the threat without issue. One of the others would have taken the
last of my little sister’s life. But my sister was already gone,
and the only way to save her was to kill her.

“
Goodbye, Violet.” I
refused to cry, though I wanted to.

Her eyes changed, just before death. “Bye,
Sissy,” she said in her own voice. She smiled, then her face froze
in the way the faces of the dead do. I try not to see that image
every time I close my eyes. I never succeed.

I carried her body into the sunlight. Armand
poured holy water over her. I held Violet’s body as it burned away
and turned to ash, until there was nothing left of my little
sister, my family, but dust.

Armand put his hand onto my shoulder.
“You’ll meet her again. In Heaven, if nowhere else.”

“
Not in Hell?”

“
No. You’ve already known
her in Hell, because Hell is here.”

I looked up at him. “I want to destroy them.
I want to make this world like it was, not like it is.”

Armand nodded, and led me back inside.

I was a member of The Order before they
asked me to join.

I was indoctrinated in The Order, taught and
trained. I had a new family and we were joined by a different kind
of blood – not blood shared but blood spilled.

For two years I learned, studied, worked,
and sweated. I wasn’t allowed on raids in the first year, but was
able to assist in the second. By the end of my apprenticeship, I
was ready to join the elite squads.

Killing vampires wasn’t what it had been in
the old days. Through the years they’d learned how to counter most
of the things that had held them in check in the past – sunlight,
silver-edged weapons, wooden stakes through the heart. But the
Order had done significant research and discovered the keys to
confidently eliminating them.

’
Pires were indeed
affected by religious symbols, but the Star of David was more
effective than the Cross of Christ. Combined they were powerful
enough to stun and hold any ’Pire near them, whether the vampire
could see them or not. Holy water still worked, and could be
blessed by any member of any clergy, as long as that person truly
believed in their religion. Holy water made a wonderful defensive
weapon and worked like acid, at least until the ’Pire
regenerated.

What killed them, though, was a combination
of metals and woods – iron, silver, ash, and oak – covered in gold.
Vampires, it turned out, coveted gold. Any race that lives forever
would be drawn to something that never loses its value over time,
and through the centuries, this love of gold had become their
weakness.

All The Order’s weapons were made of this
gold-covered mixture. It made the weapons expensive, but the cure
for any plague is costly.

The true genius, however, was the invention
of the Nightstick.

“
You’ve progressed faster
than any other,” Armand told me. He was pleased and that meant I
was pleased. “Time for you to learn to wield a
Nightstick.”

I hadn’t been allowed a Nightstick yet, and
I had to work to contain my excitement. “Thank you.”

Armand grinned as he handed me the best
weapon The Order had ever produced. “You’ve earned it.”

The Nightstick looked like a large
combination wrench and was used in a similar way. One end was
rounded, with a hexagonal opening. A Star of David was formed
inside the hexagon by thin bars of iron which were covered with
silver.

My hand sat between this rounded end and the
perpendicular bar forming the Cross of Christ with the main shaft.
The other end had U-shaped pinchers.

Armand showed me how the pinchers could open
or close as needed, their mechanism housed in the cross-bar.

Like all Nightsticks, mine was made of the
woods and metals combination, covered in gold. “It’s been blessed
by everyone here,” Armand said. “Ensure any clergy you meet bless
it as well.”

“
Why?” I asked while I
practiced making the pinchers work.

“
The more blessings
received, the stronger the Nightstick becomes.” Armand smiled
sadly. “This is our best weapon. It means we have a hope of winning
this war.”

I knew he was lying to me. The invention of
this weapon made fighting against ’Pires seem possible, but there
were so many, legions by the time the Nightstick was perfected, and
humanity was thinning quickly.

I smiled back. “I know we can stop them.” I
lied, but it was a lie I wanted to make a reality.