Samantha Moon Phantasm, page 39
part #9 of Vampire for Hire Series
I looked at her now, and scanned her thoughts again. Or tried to. “Seems that talking is all we have, since your mind is closed off. Let me guess: Millicent’s idea?”
We were parked outside the AMC Theaters in Fullerton, about halfway down a row, with a mostly clear shot of the theater entrance. That was, if my daughter decided to use the front entrance. The theater also had side entrances. The side entrance part concerned me.
“Sam, her reasons are valid. And so were yours. You wanted to shut down that aspect, as well, to keep the demon bitch within you weak. So don’t blame this all on Millicent.”
“My reasons are very different than her reasons.”
“Sam, we are essentially at war with the entity within you.”
“You do know that you are a psychic phone operator in L.A., and a part-time fitness instructor.”
“And a full-time witch, who’s part of a powerful triad of witches. Sam, more and more we are facing—and battling—demons and monsters. And the thing within you is one of the most powerful of all. I am only just beginning to understand the depth of the darkness within you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Not you, Sam. Her, the thing within.” She paused, gathered herself. “Sam, Millicent is certain that Elizabeth is in communication with others like her.”
“Other dark masters?”
“Yes.”
This was news to me. “How?”
“When you sleep, Sam. It gives her the escape she seeks. It is why sleep is so powerful, so necessary. It’s not necessary for you. It’s necessary for her. It is only then that she is given reprieve from the prison of your mind.”
Okay, that made some sense. I said, “And where does she go?”
“I do not know, Sam. Perhaps from where she came.”
The Librarian, Archibald Maximus, had suggested that it was another dimension, or perhaps a parallel world overlapping our own. Talos had suggested something similar, too, regarding his own world.
“So you’re suggesting she always knows my secrets, and is, you know, spilling the beans to her cohorts?”
“Millicent thinks so.”
I thought about this as I watched moviegoers pouring in and out of the theater. One thing Allison could provide was a big shield around both of us, which she had done using her witchy powers. A much stronger shield than I could conjure. True, my shield was strong enough for most people, but apparently my daughter saw through it with ease.
“So you can see why Millicent wants me to be careful around you, Sam.”
I nearly snorted. “Geez, you make it seem like all we do is talk about demons and dark masters.”
“Often enough, Sam.”
“So this shield of yours is permanent now?”
“I think so.”
Sneaky bitch, I thought to Elizabeth. Who knew you were sneaking out at night and boogying with your demon friends.
“Fine,” I said. “That still doesn’t explain why you are here. Or why you’re talking with me now. I thought I was a bad influence and all that.”
“Millicent agrees that you are an invaluable ally—and understands that you are my best friend.”
Hearing that caused a ripple of satisfaction—a ripple that I desperately needed. “What about your triad of girlfriends?”
“One is a ghost, and the other’s a pampered Hollywood star. Neither are exactly best friend material.”
“And I am?”
“Yes, Sam. And I’m so sorry if I made you feel bad about yourself.”
I shrugged. “I’ve felt worse.”
“I’m still sorting through all of this, Sam. So much of it is new to me, too.”
I added I got that and soon we found ourselves hugging and there might even have been some tears.
Allison finally pulled away and said, “I’ve never been part of such a tightknit group of women before. We are doing big things, Sam. And soon, we will be going after the worst of the worst.”
“But without me.”
“For now, Sam.”
“Fine,” I said. “Just be careful.”
“Say that to the bad guys.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You ladies are that powerful?”
“And growing more powerful all the time.”
I nodded, impressed. “I’d like to meet Millicent someday. And Ivy Tanner, too.”
“You will, Sam. Someday. Now, tell me about this dream.”
I did, and it was so damn nice opening up to my friend again—a friend who sometimes frustrated me to no end, but my best friend none the less. When I was done explaining, Allison said, “This is terrible, Sam.”
I nodded. I could only agree.
“And I only added to your problems,” said Allison.
“You did,” I said. “And you should feel bad.” I winked.
She reached over and gave me another big hug, pressing her closed-off head against mine. She smelled of incense and other witchy kitchen ingredients that I couldn’t quite place. “Nothing’s going to happen to her, Sam. Not with us on the watch.”
“Thank you.”
“We good?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Unless you ditch me with the bill again.”
She pulled away, nodded. “I owe you lunch.”
“You do.”
She reached out and took my hand, then looked forward through the windshield at the theater before us. “Does this place have side exits?”
“It does.”
“Can you reach them with your mind?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll head out on foot and keep an eye on them. We’ll text as soon as one of us sees her.”
Now, that was an idea I could get behind.
She slipped away into the night, and I turned my attention to the brightly lit front doors.
Chapter Twenty-six
Thirty minutes later, she appeared.
I watched her laughing and hanging on to the arm of a boy who looked like nothing but trouble. He also looked like no one in the car, either, and so I breathed a sigh of relief. I sent a text to Allison: The eagle has landed.
Of course, my daughter would know I was here watching her. She might not know now, but she would know later as she picked it up somewhere in my thoughts. I was thinking about that, as Allison appeared at the driver’s side door, ducking and trying to look inconspicuous, but she really was too cute to be inconspicuous, ever. Still, it gave me a small chuckle.
“Who is she with?” asked Allison, a little out of breath.
“I don’t recognize him.”
“So he’s not from the dream?”
“No.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Maybe. He’s too old for her. And I don’t like his skinny jeans. Or skinny jeans, period.”
“I wear skinny jeans.”
“Okay, his skinny jeans. Or him.”
Allison laughed a little, and patted my hand.
“And I also don’t like hiding from my own daughter. She should know that I care. She should know that I am watching her. She should know that I am doing what I can to keep her safe.”
“What are you saying?”
“Allison, lower your shields,” I said. “And, yes, I heard Captain Kirk’s voice, too.”
“Are you sure, Sam?”
“About Captain Kirk?”
“The shield, silly.”
“I am.”
Allison closed her eyes and dropped her head a little. A second later, she raised it again. “Done.”
The Skinny Jean Punk Ass leaned down and gave my daughter a small kiss. She veritably melted. His friend hugged my daughter’s friend. Skinny Jeans gave Tammy’s hand a squeeze, which was kind of cute actually, and then left with his friend. When they were out of sight, the two girls turned to each other and giggled, holding hands, and I remembered the feeling of a first kiss. Although I suspected this wasn’t my daughter’s very first kiss. Still, the first kiss from anyone was, well, pretty damn special.
And here I was watching her like a peeping Tom.
No, I thought, watching her like a concerned mother.
Shortly, while the girls continued holding hands and talking into each other’s ears, followed by what I assumed were high-pitched squeals, another minivan appeared, pulling up in front of the theater. Her friend’s mother’s van. The girls each checked their texts. Tammy showed her friend her texts, covered her mouth in what might have been a hypersonic squeal, and they both started running toward the van.
At that moment, as Tammy was coming around to the driver’s side cargo door, she looked up from her phone, much like a dog catching a trace of something on the wind. She paused, frowned, scanned the parking lot, and then settled on us, parked a hundred feet away, tucked under a scraggly tree. By all rights, she shouldn’t be able to see us, or make us out. But she did.
She paused and stared, and no doubt scanned the entirety of my mind. I had nothing to hide.
Tammy shook her head, then slipped into the cargo van and slammed the door shut.
Chapter Twenty-seven
With my daughter safe under the watchful—and witchy—eye of Allison, I soared over Orange County, high enough to not be seen but just below the low-hanging cumulus clouds.
As I flew steadily along the 91 Freeway, looking down into the many vehicles cruising even at this late hour, I was horrified to see that, precisely, half of the drivers were texting or looking down at their phones. Yes, Talos’s vision is that good. Hell, if I squinted, I could maybe, maybe just make out a text or two. How we weren’t getting into even more accidents, I don’t know.
Actually, I kind of did.
After all, I knew firsthand that guardian angels were real, and, I’m sure, cell phones and driving were keeping them busy as hell. Which made me wonder, as I sped swiftly over the freeway, sometimes flapping, sometimes gliding, just what the hell Ishmael, my own guardian angel—ex-guardian angel—was doing these days. He claimed to be watching over my son, who himself had lost his own guardian angel, thanks to his brief trip down vampire lane. Whether or not Ishmael was keeping his word, I didn’t know, but if he was keeping an eye out for my son, well, that was kind of sweet of him.
I considered: did angels live on yet another plane? Another dimension? A higher dimension perhaps? Did the banished dark masters live in a lower dimension?
I wondered if Elizabeth could just up and leave me. I doubted it. I suspected very, very dark magicks were at work here, and such magicks didn’t let go of their hold very easily. But if she did, if she was ever to relinquish her hold on me, what would happen to me? Would I die? Was she, in fact, the one thing keeping my immortal body alive? I suspected I would very much go back to being normal. Or perhaps I would age rapidly, sort of catch up to where I should be. Of course, that would be a problem a few hundred years from now, wouldn’t it? Or not. Maybe I would just revert to the age I was when she first possessed me. Twenty-eight.
Of course, there was always the diamond medallion, created by the Librarian, a relic that promised to remove the entity from me, and to revert vampirism altogether. Except, of course, I knew it wasn’t as easy as that. I knew there was a likelihood that some of her dark powers would remain. None of this was an exact science. A lot of this, I suspected, was new even to those who were immortal.
Everyone’s learning as we go, I thought.
I also knew that, should Elizabeth be released from me, there was a very strong likelihood she would next go after my sister or my daughter. Which was why the diamond medallion presently resided safely with the Librarian, Archibald Maximus, unused.
Keep your enemies close, as the saying goes.
Well, Elizabeth couldn’t get any closer. Actually, I was wrong. She could get closer. She could take me over completely, and I would be the one looking out from the shadows of my own mind.
I banked away from the freeway and aimed for the hulking dark mass to the south, the Santa Ana Mountains.
Elizabeth, I knew, wasn’t going anywhere. I knew that, and she knew that. We were in this together, forever. And like the saying goes: forever is a very long time for a vampire.
Chapter Twenty-eight
I have a question, Talos, I thought as we circled high over Lake Elsinore. The moon was in its waxing state, about a quarter full. The stars, much brighter and numerous up here, twinkled and flashed and generally gave one a sense of infinite space.
Let’s hope I have the answer you seek.
Do you not know my questions before I ask them? I suddenly asked, switching gears.
Is that your question?
No, that was an addendum.
Then to answer your addendum... I prefer to not pry too deeply.
But you could if you wanted to?
I choose not to. I have, as you might guess, perfectly good thoughts of my own.
Very well, I thought. We were banking steadily, circling widely. The wind was cool, with the occasional updraft of thermal blasts. All of which were absorbed easily by Talos’s massive wings. Nothing threw him off course. How do you protect yourself from me taking over your body completely? After all, what if I never choose to go back to my own body again? What if I never summon the single flame again and remain, well, you?
I am always in control, Sam, whether you know it or not. You might think you are in control and that’s because, for the most part, I give you that impression. How do you think you learned to fly so quickly?
Um, at the time, I didn’t know... but now I’m thinking you had a lot to do with it.
Everything to do with it, Sam. No one can take permanent control of your body, no matter how much they may want to do so, or how much they think they can do so, or how much they were trained to do so. Your body is yours and yours alone.
Say that to the bitch inside me.
She’s not inside us, Sam. Not in this changeling form. This is your safe place. Remember that. Just as it is for the human called Dracula. It is a place where you can be free of her, and free to explore decisions of your own, without her input or knowledge.
Good to know, I thought.
Yes, came Talos’s words. I imagine it is.
But won’t she know any of my plans once I transform back?
The mind is a mysterious thing, Samantha Moon, capable of shielding and boxing and fragmenting.
Fragmenting? Are you suggesting multiple personalities?
It is an idea, Sam. You can safely keep her in one area of your mind, and you can live your life in another area, free of her input, free of her snooping. Free of her completely. She could be, in effect, locked up for all eternity.
This is quite a concept.
Indeed.
And scary as hell.
It doesn’t have to be.
I am afraid of her, Talos.
Only your own fear can keep you from reclaiming your body, and your mind, Sam. Dracula is evidence of it. He is afraid of the entity known as Cornelius. And thus, Cornelius has control over him.
I nodded. I had seen it. Heard it.
And you will help me, Talos?
I am here to help and to serve.
Let’s talk about this later, I thought. It’s hurting my head.
My head, too, came the deep reply, followed by an internal wink.
We flew in a slow counterclockwise circle, and I searched the landscape for a boy-shaped bright light—or for a monster-shaped bright light swimming in the deeper waters. So far, nothing. Not even the big female catfish. Maybe she’d been caught. Or maybe she was hidden, or had burrowed into the silt. Then again, this was a big lake. I couldn’t see everything at all times, try as I might. And I did try. For the next half hour or so. Circling, circling...
Later, along the north side of the lake, moving through what I knew to be tall grass and low scrubby trees, were four figures. Human figures. Adult human figures. Who they were, I didn’t know. What they were up to at this time of night, I didn’t know that either. I figured it was time to get some more answers.
I touched down not too far from them. I shifted, and donned my crime-fighting outfit: jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt.
Ready for business...
Chapter Twenty-nine
They were drunk. As skunks.
They had with them a bevy of weapons: two rifles, a shotgun, a high-powered BB gun, and a hunter’s bow. Four guys, four weapons, and lots of bullets and booze. And all piling into a shaky rowboat at best.
This isn’t going to end well, I thought. I didn’t need a prophetic dream to know that.
As I stepped out of the reeds and into a small clearing, one of them saw me. “Whoa. You here to find the monster, too?” he asked.
As soon as he did so, the other three turned and saw me, then raised their weapons high and gave a sort of drunken, hillbilly cheer. It combined whistles and catcalls and something that could have been a yodel. One guy, I was certain, was making a bovine mooing sound. All of it involved inebriated, uninhibited exuberance. And wild optimism, too. To the man, they believed they were going to find the lake monster, and put an end to it and its reign of terror.
Yes, just today the word had gotten out about the attack in the lake, an attack that had left one boy dead with missing limbs. The city was on high alert, and, I suspected, the rest of the country was perking up, too. I had even seen one or two news vans parked around the lake during my flyover.
“Yes,” I said, as I approached them. “I am.”
That got another rousing round of high-pitched war cries. Weapons were pumped into the air. One of them accidentally went off. The high-powered BB gun, with a muffled poof, and the others laughed and chided the guy for bringing his BB gun. The boat rocked and wobbled.
“Well, make room for the missus,” said the loudest of them all, the guy waving the shotgun. The guy who clearly meant business. The biggest gun and all that...
