Vampire Affliction (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen: The Barn

“Can we just rest here for a little bit?” Gertie asked, flat on her back on the pad of hay. “I’m tired and hungry and need to think.”

Hector, who had landed between the two vampires and was only just coming to after passing out, slowly sat up, like a drunken sailor, and asked, “What just happened?”

“Thanatos,” Jeno explained. “Anyone who’s not a god basically dies in his presence.”

“But
we’re
immortal, right?” Gertie asked of Jeno. “So why did I feel like I was dying, too?”

Jeno rolled over onto his side and propped his head up with his elbow. “The gods can be swallowed and digested and still emerge years later fully grown, but
we
can be destroyed.
We
can die.”

Gertie knew that all too well, especially after what had happened to Homer and the ninety-seven other vampires who had died recently. Especially after what had happened to Calandra.

“Right,” she said.

Hector lay back down on his back. “I vote for resting. I almost died back there. Wow.”

“I’m going to die if I don’t get a drink soon,” Gertie complained.

“Go for it,” Hector said, without opening his eyes. “Jeno, too. Just save a little for me, man.”

Gertie sat up and met Jeno’s eyes over Hector’s body lying between them.

“We could each take a single draw, to hold us over until tonight,” Jeno said.

“You go first,” Gertie said. “It’s been ages since you’ve fed.”

Hector began to snore.

“Let’s let him sleep first,” Jeno said. “He’s exhausted.”

As starving as she was, Gertie nodded. “Okay. You’re right.”

“Maybe we should all try to rest.” Jeno rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Gertie lay back down, too, but she couldn’t sleep because she was too hungry. She wondered if she could drink the blood of one of the animals in the barn.

“You
can
,” Jeno said, “but it’s disgusting.”

“It can’t be that bad.” She thought of Louis in
The Vampire Chronicles
and Edward in
Twilight
.

“Oh, trust me. It’s like the worst vegetable you’ve ever eaten combined with the stalest bread, the moldiest cheese, the most putrid fruit…”

“Okay, I get it.”

They lay there in silence for a while, listening to Hector’s snoring, until they both sensed a presence outside. Gertie sat up as the barn door creaked open and a slant of light shone down below. The little boy had returned. He went back to his stool and to the milking of the cow, but Gertie could read his thoughts, and he was listening for what he had heard earlier in the loft. He seemed to suspect a flock of birds had come to roost—at least that’s what his mother had told him had probably happened.

Gertie was surprised the mother hadn’t come to see for herself, but she supposed most mortals would take a story of something flying into the barn loft as either a child’s imagination or a flock of birds.

She wondered what the boy thought of Hector’s gentle snoring. Maybe he couldn’t hear it down there.

“Sorry, Zelda,” the boy said to the cow in Greek. “Is that better?”

The cow, of course, did not reply.

“Mamá doesn’t believe in ghosts, but you and I know the truth,” the boy said. “And if there are any ghosts in this barn, they should know not to mess with me, right, Zelda? And if there are any robbers or murderers or criminals, they shouldn’t mess with me, either. I’m like a ninja. I know karate and judo, and I am
strong
.”

Gertie covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. She glanced over at Jeno to see him smiling with his eyes closed.

After several more minutes of the boy’s chatter to his cow, the scent of blood spilled up toward the rafters and hung, palpable, in the loft with Gertie. He must have cut himself. A check to his mind confirmed he had cut his finger on the rusty lip of the bucket. The boy licked at his finger, but the aroma filled the barn, and Gertie’s mouth watered.

She turned to Jeno and told him telepathically,
I’m going to talk him into letting me feed from him. I’m starving. Please don’t try to stop me.

Five more hours until dusk. Can’t you wait? Go to sleep.

I’m too hungry to sleep. I’m going down.

Let’s wake Hector instead,
Jeno said.
Leave the boy alone.

I can’t. We might need Hector’s blood later tonight—I might need it. I want him strong for our quest.

Leave the poor boy alone
, Jeno said again.
He’s already frightened.

I’ll be nice.

As soon as Gertie climbed to her feet, the board beneath her creaked, and the boy below froze.

Jeno sat up and threw Gertie one more look of disapproval before she lifted off her feet and hovered in the air. Then, like a flash, she flew to the barn door, putting a few cows between her and the boy, who sat stiff and still on his stool and was no longer milking the cow.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Gertie said gently.

The boy didn’t move. After a beat, he said. “I knew I wasn’t imagining things.”

He was probably nine or ten years old—about Phoebe’s age. “You have nothing to fear.”

“That’s what all the bad guys say just before they kill you.” The boy kept his eyes on his cow.

Gertie laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“I watch TV. I know how this is going down. Why else would you be here? I don’t have any money, so you don’t want to rob me.”

“No. I don’t want to rob you.”

“You must be one of those serial killers who hunt down kids.”

“I’m not a serial killer.”

“Then a one-time killer. You just want to kill
me
.”

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“I’d rather be killed than raped.”

That caught Gertie off guard. Images of Alexander burned through her skull. “Oh, my God. I’m not going to do anything like that.”

“Then what?”

What the heck
am
I doing?
“Nothing. I was just tired and needed a safe place to rest.”

He finally looked at her. “What are you?”

“A teenager. I’m just a regular teenaged girl.” She locked onto his eyes and moved forward, mesmerizing him.

“But I saw something fly in. I heard you fall.”

“No you didn’t.” She moved past the cows.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“I’m just a regular kid, like you.” She stepped directly in front of him.

“Like me.”

“So thank you for letting me use your barn to get some rest.” She put her hand on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

“I want to thank you with a hug. Okay?”

He nodded.

Gertie’s mouth watered as she leaned in, put her arms around the little boy, and then sank her fangs into his soft, sweaty throat. Tears sprang to her eyes. She was as bad as the women in the city, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

The warm liquid burst into her mouth and quenched her thirst. She decided she might as well take a full pint, so she could afford to spare Hector later, but before she had swallowed down half that, she sensed a presence outside the barn door.

Gertie, get out of there!
Jeno cried.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Jeno looking down at her with a frown.

Unable to stop herself from taking a few more quick draws at the boy’s neck, Gertie was burned by the light when the barn door flung open, and a woman screamed.

Gertie panicked and also screamed, standing frozen like the boy in the shadow of a cow. While Gertie was paralyzed with shock, the stout woman grabbed a shovel and bashed the end of it against Gertie’s head. Jeno dropped down like a streak of lightning and bit the woman on her bulky arm, to paralyze her.

Hector peered down from the loft just as Gertie and Jeno descended on the woman, both drawing from a different arm as the boy beat against them with his fists.

The boy, infused with the strength from the vampire virus, was hurting Gertie, along with one ray of sunlight burning her leg. Just as Hector shouted from above, Gertie turned and hissed at the boy with a mouth full of fangs and blood.

The boy shrank back from her in fear and revulsion.

She looked up to see Hector do the same.

Then Hector leapt from the loft, believing he could still fly, and landed on Gertie, who tried her best to break his fall. Jeno had stupefied the woman and had now locked eyes with the boy, making him forget all that had happened. Telepathically, he commanded the mother and son to leave the barn, close the door, and return to their farmhouse to sleep.

Once they were gone, Hector recovered from his fall and took several steps away from the two of them, looking at them with the same fear and revulsion the boy had shown on his face. “How could you?”

Gertie stepped toward him. “Hector…”

He backed away from her, holding his palms up. To Jeno, he said, “Just when I thought we were friends. Just when I thought I could trust you.”

“Let me explain,” Gertie said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Man!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Jeno. “What have I gotten myself into? How did I end up on your side?”

“This wasn’t Jeno’s fault. He tried to stop me.”

“That’s not what I saw,” Hector said.

“He only went after the woman because she attacked me. You’ve got to believe me. Jeno is innocent.”

Jeno stepped forward and said. “Let me talk.”

“I’m listening,” Hector said.

“It’s true. I tried to stop Gertie, but I shouldn’t have.”

“What?” Gertie shook her head. “I was wrong, not you. I was starving, and I gave into temptation.”

“This is what we are,” Jeno said. “I’ve been fighting it for centuries. We all have—those of us who want to obey the laws. But this is who we are and what we do. We can’t keep denying that.”

Hector raked a hand through his hair. “So I’m supposed to accept that? I’m supposed to just stand by while you attack humans?”

“No,” Jeno said. “You’re meant to protect humans.”

“So now we’re back to being enemies? I thought you were my friend.”

“I
am
your friend,” Jeno said. “You’re a good man, and I’m honored that you would think of me that way. It means a lot to me.”

Hector shook his head again. “But…”

“Just let me talk,” Jeno insisted. “This is why we need change. Vampires need a new way of life. They need to be able to be true to themselves without threatening the human race.”

“How?” Gertie asked. “You mean what Charon said?”

“Hades said it, too,” Jeno pointed out. “We are the dead. We belong to the Underworld. We have been trying to survive up here where the sun hurts and destroys us, where people hate us, and where gods punish us for things that we can’t help.”

“Would your father agree?” Gertie asked. “Would he lead the other vampires to serve in the Underworld?”

“He’s been talking about freedom,” Jeno said. “I doubt I can convince him to choose servitude.”

“So what does this mean?” Hector asked. “What are you saying to me, Jeno?”

“I wish I knew, brother.” Jeno crossed the room to sit on a bale of hay. “Vampires are like Medusa. We were the victims of the Maenads, and yet we’re also the ones being punished.”

“But if the vampires embrace their true nature,” Hector said, “Well, we’re all screwed.”

“This isn’t about good versus evil,” Gertie said. “I know that.”

“And it’s not about right or wrong,” Jeno said. “Neither side has the higher moral ground. The vampires didn’t ask for this and shouldn’t be punished, and the gods need to protect human life.”

“So what’s it about?” Hector said. “If this uprising isn’t about good versus evil or right versus wrong, what’s it about?”

“Maybe together we can figure it out.” Jeno stood and extended his hand. It hung there for a few moments before Hector leaned in and took it. Gertie sighed with relief.

“Okay,” Hector said. “Let’s figure this out together.”

Gertie added her hand to the pair, and they all shook on it.

Chapter Seventeen: The Vigil

Since Gertie and Jeno would be stuck in the barn until dusk, Hector made the journey alone to his father’s temple to beg for help, stopping by his house first for food, new clothes, a candle, and his ukulele.

Gertie and Jeno lay side by side on the hay in the loft and closed their eyes. Jeno reached out and held her hand, so she took it, but she guarded her thoughts and kept a little distance because she was completely confused about her feelings for the two boys. It wasn’t fair to either of them for her to be in love with both. She had to choose, and she couldn’t. Since she was a vampire, the obvious choice was Jeno; but a strong desire to be with Hector wouldn’t let her make it.

Now that she was full, Gertie was sleepy, so she invited Hypnos, the god of sleep, to take her.

When she awoke, it was nighttime, and Jeno was already awake, waiting for her. Since they were both full from the boy’s mother, they flew straight to Hephaestus’s temple to find Hector.

On the way, Jeno said, “My father thinks we are foolish.”

“He knows our plan?”

“Only that we have to do a favor for Hades.”

“How. Did he speak to you telepathically?”

“Yeah, while you were sleeping. I told him we were caught and a deal was made, but not the details. I told him we weren’t allowed to say.”

“And he was okay with that?”

“He said we had one week to deliver the helm.”

“Do you think we’re being foolish?”

“No.”

“Have you been able to talk to Phoebe or Damien?” Gertie asked. She had tried without success.

“Phoebe must have quickly learned to block her mind,” Jeno said. “And Damien’s mind seems to be tied to my father’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like he doesn’t have many independent thoughts. He uses my father’s mind to interpret the world around him.”

“Like he did with Phoebe’s,” Gertie said, piecing it together. He must be too young to have developed a complete mind of his own before he was turned. “I hope they’re okay. I promised Mamá…”

“I know.”

They reached the acropolis and descended near the temple of Hephaestus. Inside, they found Hector sitting on the stone floor in front of a lighted pillar candle strumming his ukulele. Beside him were three empty fast-food bags.

“No sign of him yet?” Jeno asked.

“Nothing,” Hector said.

“What if he never answers?” Gertie sat beside him on the floor. “Vladimir’s given us a week.”

“My mom said that if you can keep a vigil at his temple for three days straight, he will come,” Hector said.

“Have you tried this before?” Jeno asked, getting comfortable on the floor beside them, so that they made a ring around the candle.

“Dozens of times when I was younger,” Hector answered. “But every time, I got hungry and gave up after the second day. And then, when I got older, well, I didn’t want to seem desperate. I was too proud.”

“Then how do we know it’ll work?” Gertie asked.

“My mom’s done it three times, and all three times, he came.”

Gertie wasn’t completely convinced, but since she had no better ideas, they sat together and waited. They killed time by telling stories, but they weren’t happy ones.

Hector told about the first time he met his father. At the age of seven, Hector had been staying with a neighbor while his mother had been on a three-day vigil. Usually good at keeping her feelings for Hephaestus to herself, she’d returned sobbing, quivering, and broken. Hector became so angry, that he took off running, barefoot and in his pajamas, from their neighborhood for the acropolis. Only his mother was fast enough to catch him, but she was too weak, both physically and emotionally, to do so.

“It was the dead of night,” Hector said. “Tramps—I’m sorry, vampires—were out. I could sense them. But I didn’t care. I just ran and ran until I reached my father’s temple. Then I climbed to the very top.” Hector pointed up. “I stood on the highest point and threatened to destroy his temple.”

“Oh my God,” Gertie said. She could imagine it so vividly: Hector a little boy in his pajamas on the top of this temple, throwing a tantrum to get the attention of his father. “So he showed up?”

“Only after I stomped so hard, I put a crack in this place,” Hector said.

Jeno and Gertie laughed.

“Then what happened?” Jeno asked.

“He picked me up with his golden claw and sat me on his back, right between his wings. I was scared to death.”

Gertie recalled the night the giant crane had carried her and Hector from the sea. “Did he say anything?”

“A sword and shield appeared in my hands, which scared me even more, because I couldn’t hold on with anything but my legs. I’d never flown through the sky like that. It was amazing and terrifying.”

Gertie remembered the first time she’d ever flown with Jeno. “I know what you mean.”

Jeno must have read her thoughts. He looked at her and smiled.

“So my father told me I had to be brave and help my mother,” Hector went on. “He said
he
had to help
all
people. It was his duty as a god. But
my
responsibility was my mother. Then he flew me home.”

“Did you ever find out what had made her so upset?” Gertie asked.

“Not until I was twelve. She sat me down one night and explained how my father had been tricked into being with her. She’d found out that night when I was seven. All those years, she’d assumed my father loved her but couldn’t be with her because he was a god and she was a mortal. But then, she missed him so much, she had just wanted to see him one more time.”

“Your father was tricked?” Jeno asked.

Hector nodded. “Artemis was mad at Apollo and thought she’d get her revenge by tricking Hephaestus into sleeping with one of Apollo’s daughters.”

“The gods can be so petty,” Jeno said.

“It’s true,” Hector agreed. “They can be really selfish.”

“That’s true of humans and vampires, too,” Gertie said. “It’s true of me.” She thought of the boy and his mother in the barn.

Jeno wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned back. “Good point, but there is no group more selfish than the Maenads.”

“They don’t seem to know any better,” Gertie said. “You don’t blame her, do you?” Gertie meant Jeno’s mom.

“No, but the first time I saw her, when she came to our house, drunk on the wine of Dionysus—I’ll never get that night out of my head. Calandra and I were at the table eating dinner with our father. My mother had been gone for a few weeks, visiting her sister in a city then known as Thebes. Before we’d finished our dinner, my mother came into the house. We were relieved to see her, but she looked different.”

“Did she say anything?” Gertie asked.

Jeno shook his head. “She screeched in a strange voice and charged my father. Calandra and I tried to stop her, but she had superhuman strength. I couldn’t believe my eyes. After she had finished tearing apart my father, she went to work on Calandra. I jumped on my mother’s back and wrapped my hands around her throat, trying to strangle her. But she tore my poor sister apart and then turned on me.”

Gertie shuddered. “How could Dionysus allow that to happen?”

Jeno shrugged. “The king of Thebes didn’t recognize Dionysus as a god and didn’t like the dancing near his city.”

“So Dionysus got revenge?” Gertie wanted her father to be better than that.

“Not at first,” Jeno said. “He sent Tiresias and even went himself to explain, but King Pentheus was blinded by his own rage, they say. So Dionysus allowed the Maenads to drift into the city from the woods.”

“That’s terrible,” Gertie said.

“All the women were converted, including my aunt and mother. The men and children were destroyed.”

“I’ve never really heard the story,” Hector said. “Not exactly.”

“Many cities in Greece were affected when the Maenads wandered. Dionysus was too drunk himself to recognize what he had allowed to take place.”

Tears fell from Gertie’s eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Jeno said. “It was a long time ago.”

“I think Dionysus is my father,” she blurted out.

Hector’s mouth fell open and he jumped to his feet, nearly putting out the candle. “What? Gertie, why would you think that?”

“We overheard her mother talking to Marta Angelis,” Jeno explained.

Hector started pacing. “My mother must know. That explains why she was working so hard to negotiate with the vampires for your return. I thought it was because she knew how I felt about you, but this makes more sense. She wanted to save a fellow demigod.”

Gertie sat back on her hands. “You never told me she was negotiating with the vampires.”

“Well, once we learned you’d been turned…” Hector’s voice trailed off.

“She just gave up?” Gertie asked.

“No,” Jeno answered for him. “But they could no longer negotiate for you.”

“Why not?” Gertie asked, trying to puzzle it all out.

“Because as soon as you turned, the mission changed,” Hector explained.

“The mission became killing my father,” Jeno said.

Gertie felt the blood leave her face. “Oh.”

She noticed Hector had turned white, too.

“So what makes you think it’s Dionysus?” Jeno asked, changing the subject.

Gertie leaned forward with her legs crossed and her boots tucked close to her body. “Think about it. Dionysus is known for losing himself in his wine. I do the same with my books. He’s addicted to wine like I’m addicted to reading. He’s also an outsider and unloved by his parents, like me.”

“Zeus loves him,” Hector said.

“But he doesn’t stand up for him very often, does he?” Gertie challenged.

“I guess not.” Hector rejoined them on the floor in their circle around the candle. “So you’re a vampire
and
a demigod. Wow.”

“And she’s the daughter of the lord of the vampires,” Jeno added. “Crazy.”

Gertie shifted back to lean on her hands. “Well, I don’t know for sure…”

“That’s why he saved us,” Jeno said. “That’s why he stopped the vampires from killing you and Hector. Were you praying to him when that happened?”

Gertie nodded.

“That’s a pretty solid sign,” Hector said.

“But he’s such a douche bag,” Gertie said. “He just gets drunk all the time and doesn’t seem to care about anything but himself. The vampires had to wait days and days for him to finally tell them what to do, and even then, it’s all been so cryptic.”

“He’s a champion of the underdog and a patron of the arts,” Hector said defensively.

“He’s a douche bag,” Gertie repeated. “Just like the father who raised me. And just like your father, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that,” Jeno said.

She climbed to her feet, needing to stretch her legs. “When he couldn’t handle being a vampire, he abandoned you and Calandra. And now that he’s back, look how he’s treating you.”

“I betrayed him.”

“Because he was wrong. And because you love me.”

There was an awkward silence as Gertie blushed again.

“Even Hephaestus could be a better father,” she said. “Let’s face it.”

“Don’t say that here,” Hector warned.

Tears sprang to her eyes again. “Babá—I mean Nico Angelis—has been the only real father I’ve ever known, and now he wants nothing to do with me.”

Hector reached for her hand and squeezed it. “That’s not true. He still loves you.”

She squeezed his hand back but then pulled it away to wipe her eyes. She didn’t want Jeno to feel uncomfortable.

“Have you figured out your hidden talents yet?” Jeno asked, changing the subject again.

“I don’t have any,” she said.

“Of course you do,” Hector said. “All demigods do.”

Maybe she was the exception.

“Listen,” Jeno climbed to his feet beside Gertie. “It’s almost dawn. We need to go.”

“Where?” Hector asked, climbing to his feet, too.

“The barn, I guess. It’s not too far and no one will bother us there.” Jeno offered his hand to Hector. “See you at dusk.”

Hector took his hand and shook it. “See you then.”

Gertie gave Hector a hug and said, “See you tonight.”

As she and Jeno were about to fly away, Hector called out, “Can you guys bring me some food tomorrow? Maybe a burger and fries? Make that two burgers and fries? And a Dr. Pepper? I’m not sure if my mom will be able to make it.”

He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out some money.

Gertie laughed at Hector’s craving for American fast-food and took the money. “I guess a guy’s gotta eat.”