Sarah’s “public” residence was a New Age and Occult bookshop in Norfolk. Solomon explained how to get to it as well as a bit of history. “Like Nightstyles, Lazarus wanted to shut it down. Unlike that nightclub, he found this place harder to deal with. Sarah’s a Servant of Typhon, one of Michelle La Croix’s pagan allies. Be careful.”
Michael nodded, holstered his Beretta, and then went to the phone to call Mitch. He wanted Mitch to go along with him on this, since Mitch knew the Tidewater so well and because a little extra muscle wouldn’t hurt.
“Sorry, Michael,” came the reply. “Not tonight. I have a meeting regarding my quarry. I hope you understand.”
Michael understood, but was also disappointed. He then dialed Boar instead.
An hour later, Michael and Boar were driving into one of the rougher looking sections of Norfolk looking for the shop. Boar was navigating and Michael was driving, all the while both of them lamenting their unfamiliarity with the city. A moderate rain and some fog only made their trek even worse.
“Mitch should be here.” Grumbled Boar for the fourth or fifth time.
“It’s not like the old days,” answered Michael. “Back when you and he were thralls to Deborah. Now you serve new masters, and I only get to borrow you from time to time.”
“I serve no one.” Said Boar grimly. “Not anymore.”
“You’ve never been very open about what happened to you among the werewolves.”
“Stupidity. Thinking with my dick instead of with my head.”
“Is that why you’re so reluctant to hook up again? You used to be quite the ladies man.”
“Not anymore.”
“I may not know the details of your new found society, Mike.” Said Michael, dropping Boar’s nickname for a bit. “But I know about regret and guilt. Maybe you should think about putting yourself out there anyway. Find a way to forget in arms of someone new.”
“Is that what you are trying to do? With Leigh? Or are we taking past tense here, like when you hooked up with Deb to get over Rebecca? That sure ended wonderfully, didn’t it?”
Michael darkened and decided to drop the subject. He took a quick right turn down an alley and there he saw the shop.
It was closed; after hours. The apartment above was lit, so Michael figured there would be someone here who could direct them to Sarah.
“Here goes nothing.” Said Michael, stepping out and heading to the door. Just as he was about to knock, it opened.
A woman in her early 50s stood there, bearing a candlestick with a lit candle. “Come in. We’ve been expecting you.”
“Ok, this is weird…and a bit creepy.” Thought Michael. He followed.
They passed through the bookstore proper into a back room. It was finely furnished, it’s walls lined with bookshelves. A fireplace sat in the center of the back wall.
On the floor in front of the fireplace was a young girl, perhaps 13 or 14 years of age. She appeared to be reading and paid him and Boar no heed. In one of the two chairs sat another woman, this one perhaps 20 years old. All three had hair of dark brown, curly, and each had light brown eyes, like amber. It was very clear that they were related somehow.
Michael was about to speak, about to ask about where he could find Sarah, but he stopped himself. The two older women looked at him, as if expecting something. The girl continued to ignore him.
This was a test and he had already solved it.
He sat down on the floor next to the girl and said, “Sarah.”
The girl looked up from her book, closed it, and sat up. She smiled at him.
"Most vampires never get past the mortal habit of using only their eyes. You have learned better." Sarah paused, her eyes darting up to Boar. "Your werewolf friend knew before you did."
Michael was taken aback by that. "How did you know?"
"I know much about you, Michael Allens." She said, pulling out a deck of tarot cards from the folds of her dress and shuffling them. The elaborate images on the cards danced before Michael's eyes.
"Then you know why we are here."
"I do, but do you?" she asked cryptically, waving the cards in front of him, as if daring him to learn what they would say about him.
"Another game? Another test?" Michael replied impatiently.
"Does that bother you?" She laughed before he could answer. "Of course it does. You've been steeped too long in fundamentalist Christianity to be at ease with witchcraft and the occult."
"I did not dump one religious foolishness for another." retorted Michael, his patience growing thinner.
"Ah, but have you dumped anything at all?" Her smile grew and Michael knew he was being played with. "You are a master of self-deception, Michael. You may be angry with God and you may have let that anger trick you into thinking you no longer believe in him, but you are a long way from abandoning your faith entirely. And that's good."
Michael found that assessment odd. "And why would a witch see that as good?"
"Because it gives you an anchor to hold you fast within the storm. And now we come to it: Why you are here."
"I came for a friend."
"And if you had abandoned God as you claim, why would you come to aid one of his most devoted servants?" He was about to answer, but she again cut him off. "Because it is what you do. It's what you've been doing since you came here. It's your whole purpose for being." She finished shuffling and began to lay out the cards in front of him. "You seek absolution for your sins. Guilt drives you, drives many of your actions. It's what brought you here tonight."
"Nonsense."
"Is it?" She laid out the "Lovers" card. "You seek it in the arms of a mortal woman."
Judgement was laid out next. "In your quest to defeat Prince Mathias."
And then the Hierophant. "And of course, in your objective tonight for your dear Pastor friend. Each of these..." Justice was laid next. "...is an effort to avoid the price of your sins, the cost of all those you've killed, all the lives you've destroyed."
Michael found her insight unsettling. He had not thought about his life nor his recent actions in this way, and yet it all fit. How did she know these things? Had she read his mind in some unguarded moment? Could she, like Mitch, see through time? For all the pageantry, it was clear to him that something was at work here. Something that knew more about him than he did.
But he had come with a purpose and he would see it through. "Fine. But you haven't answered the most pressing question I have. What do you know about my friend and what's going on with him?"
"That knowledge comes with a price."
"Name it. I am not without influence or wealth. If you seek a boon from the primogen Maximilian, I can see what I can do."
"I care little for the politics of Primogen and Princes. And I am not interested in money. But there is something you can offer me, actually something we can offer each other."
"And that is?"
"You are alone, Michael Allens."
"What are you talking about now?"
"In Blacksburg, always two there were." She began to flip over more tarot cards, always "twos." "And then you made it three and everything fell apart. Here, there is only one and you are still out of balance."
"Two?" Michael wasn't following her. He heard Boar grunt behind him, as if he’d figured it out and was mocking Michael’s confusion.
"Kris and Debroah. Then you added Rebecca and it all went to hell. And now, there is only one: Leigh. And what is she? A slave? A mortal? Your self-deception continues if you think she truly loves you or would if she was not under the shackles of the thrall-bond. I could bring you into balance. I could be your Deborah in this place. If you would have me.”
Michael's face twisted in disgust. "You have the body of a child."
"And do you think that matters? Were I a mortal, I would only be a few years older than you. And while I may have been trapped in this form for over a decade now, I am as much your peer as anyone. Who else can you call to your bed as an equal but me?"
“No.” said Michael adamantly.
“How unfortunate. If you will not meet my price,” She replied, her face an inscrutable mask. If she was disappointed, it did not show. Nor did she seem angry. “Then I cannot help you with your friend.”
---
“The hunter becomes the hunted.” Muttered the Lich under his breath. He sneered as he watched the young mage from across the street. It was late, the rainy streets deserted. It was only he and his prey.
“Novices! Apprentices!” He let his further thoughts grow silent. “This is the best they can do! I do declare it’s almost insulting for a man of my stature! No matter. This one’s soul will soon be mine!” He stepped forward from his vantage point, ready to cross the street and confront his target.
“Mitch!” called a voice and the Lich stepped back. New arrivals.
“Michael.” Said the young mage. The Lich frowned. No more hunting tonight. Mortals and their unbelief would weaken his magick. But then…something about these two.
The Lich cast a brief incantation. No, these were not mortals, but something far more dangerous. A vampire and a werewolf. “So,” thought the Lich, “this little novice has friends and what an unusual selection.” Unbelief was no longer a problem, but to charge in against the undead and a skinchanger with their unpredictable powers would be even more dangerous.
And for the 150 years the Lich had walked the Earth, he had learned not to risk so much for so little gain. He would be patient and watch.
“How went your meeting?” asked the vampire, the one named Michael.
“We’ve learned little.” Said Mitch with disappointment. “But we’re pretty sure he’s here. Hiding perhaps among your people.”
“With the Prince dead, it would be easy.” Said Michael.
“It would seem my best bet from here on out is to start to get to know some vampires."
The Lich frowned again. This novice may not be experienced, but certainly had all the tools he needed to smoke him out. And he knew how.
“Max is probably your best bet. Not much happens here without his notice.”
“Then I’ll need to talk to Max.” said Mitch. “How went your adventure tonight?”
“Sarah is…different.”
Mitch found something amusing about that and chuckled. “I believe we were told that.”
“She has the body of a twelve year old.” Added Boar.
Mitch’s face twisted up as if in disgust. “Ugh. She was embraced as a child?”
“She’s not the first I’ve encountered like that. There was one in Roanoke. But this one…” Michael let the thought trail off, as if reluctant to complete it.
“…has an adult’s desires.” Added Boar.
The disgusted look on Mitch’s face grew more pronounced, but he said nothing.
“The price for her help…” continued Michael, his reluctance and hesitation also continuing. “…is that I….share her bed for a night.”
“So,” Mitch replied. “Ernie’s ‘advice’ proves a tainted gift as we expected. So now what? How are we going to help your friend?”
“I may take her up on her offer. I haven't decided yet.”
“Are you kidding me?” exclaimed Boar and Mitch at almost the exact same time.
“No. I’m serious.”
“I knew you were a horn dog, but I never thought you were that perverted, Michael.”
“She’s not that much younger looking than Deborah, and besides…there’s something else about her. The way she knows me, what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling. It’s…hard to explain.”
“She’s got you fooled with her parlor tricks; tarot cards and fortune telling.” Said Boar. “It’s all a scam.”
“It’s still my call and it’s probably the best bet that Pastor Ian has.”
The Lich scratched his chin as he watched the three walk away. “Interesting. A vampire, a werewolf, and a mage. Sounds like the beginnings of a bad joke. But the joke seems to be on me. This novice mage is far more formidable than I though to have such…friends. A new strategy seems to be in order.”
---
Michael looked about the salon with curiosity. The bookshelves laden with books on the occult, on witchcraft, on magic, on all sorts of esoteric topics. The middle aged woman he had seen here before swept into the room, with Sarah close behind. Neither said a word as Sarah took a seat upon a nearby chair. The woman took her leave with a nod to Sarah and departed.
Sarah watched Michael as he perused the trappings of the room, but said nothing.
“I have been a vampire for a little more than a year now.” He said aloud to no one in particular. “I have fought werewolves, met wizards, and have barely begun to scratch the surface of what the world truly is.” He paused and glared at Sarah. “Why is that?”
“Humanity doesn’t know, save for the tiny handful that our world has touched in some way. You haven’t been lied to. They are as ignorant as you once were, in most cases deliberately so.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It is a persistent delusion of the human species that they are the masters of the universe. They rule all. They control all. And even when evidence is undeniable that it is not so, they refuse to believe it. If you, as a mortal, had stumbled upon a vampire feeding in a dark alley, what would you have believed?”
“A murderer, a psychopath, some nut.”
“Of course. A mortal mind will rationalize away the supernatural, not only because it has been taught that such cannot exist, but also because of what the supernatural’s existence implies about life.” She paused, as if for dramatic effect. “That humans are prey. That they are food. That they are not in control. That they are not the masters they think they are. That they are mortal and destined to die. Humanity has sought to deny that truth for as long as the species has existed.”
Michael nodded. Sarah continued. “Your Christian Scriptures had the right of it. The wise always do. They know, even if they wish it were not so. Do you remember the story? The Apple? The Fall? Oh, the serpent knew well how to tempt Eve. Do you remember what he said to her to get her to eat?”
“Refresh my memory.” Michael knew the story, every good Sunday School boy did, but the detail that Sarah was teasing out eluded him.
“If you eat,” Sarah began to quote, “you will not die, you will be like God. And that is what humanity has thought ever since. That they are immortal. That they are gods.”
“And yet religion and belief in the divine has gone hand-in-hand with humanity since day one. If humanity is god, why believe in another?”
“True,” Sarah conceded, recognizing his point. “but consider the vast difference between what the wise have taught and what is believed by the masses. The wise rightly say that God is unfathomable, almighty, uncontrolled. The foolish sacrifice chickens, offer up pious prayers, and perform empty ritual all with the intent of guiding and controlling the divine to their favor. The wise say god is god. The foolish see god as a means to an end. As did you.”
Michael felt a chill go down his spine at those words. She was right and he knew it. She paused, as if assessing his reaction. that she'd gotten under his skin. She continued. “Your former morality was all an effort to gain your desired reward. And then, when it didn't happen, you foisted anger, blame, and hate upon God for not doing what you desired, for not giving you what you felt you deserved. And so here we are. But now you're doing it again. Your affections for a young girl whom life has dealt a bad hand. Your hunger to redeem your failings with your sire by liberating her. And now this quest to aid your addled friend. All good and virtuous deeds, but all designed to illicit grace and atonement from God for your failings.”
“So I should just abandon these efforts, since I'm clearly just trying to play games with God all over again?”
“No,” replied Sarah. “You should if you truly want to be the man you claim to be, hateful at God, angry, immoral, apathetic. But I don't believe that's really who you want to be. The great mystery that baffles you most is not the nature of the universe. It's the nature of yourself. Who are you, who do you want to be, and why?”
“And you will no doubt offer to guide me in discovering these mysteries.” retorted Michael sardonically. “In exchange for the sex that no one else will offer you.”
Sarah winced briefly at that, and Michael realized that he'd now gotten under her skin. A sly smile crossed his lips as he realized the initiative had shifted. “So,” he continued, “maybe I'm not the only one suffering from a bit of self-deception.”
He expected an angry retort, but was surprised when she shook her head. “You may be a mystery to yourself, but others generally are not. But this is not trickery. I've said nothing to you that is not true. About you...or about me.”
“So you really are just horny and want some?” Michael replied.
“Is that such a strange thing? You revel in your new situation, adoring every moment of the hedonism it offers you. As I said before, all appearances aside, I am barely older than you. I would be celebrating my 26th birthday this year were I not Kindred. Not so old as these other kindred who surround us, ones who have moved on to other desires like power and politics. I want what you want. Passion, pleasure, companionship,” she paused again for dramatic effect, “even love. I'll admit it. I envy you, Michael, and the life you live. Will you not share even a little piece of it with me? Am I truly that hideous to you?”
She was not, Michael admitted to himself. Had he been a young teen, he could see himself developing quite the crush on Sarah. She was cute, with those sharp amber eyes and dark hair. Not all that unlike an old crush he remembered from a time before he'd met Rebecca.
And then there was the issue of age. In reality, she was a scant five years older than him. By appearances, she was six years younger. Even among humans, he was well aware neither of those were insurmountable obstacles, save where the younger was a child. But Sarah did not speak like a child. She did not act like a child. She clearly did not think like a child. She only looked like one.
Michael shook his head. “You are not hideous. I am...” he paused to consider his words. “I guess I am just simply still too human to look at someone like you and find that attractive, even though I know and it is obvious you are older and far wiser than your appearance dictates. “ He felt those words more hurtful than he had intended, so after a short pause he added, “I'm sorry.”
“That's the most honest thing you've said about yourself since we met.” The words were kind, but the look on her face showed hurt and disappointment. She let out a clearly forced chuckle, as if trying to cheer herself. “I had hoped given what Leigh has taught you, that you might look beyond what had once appealed to you. I suppose I was wrong.”
That felt like daggers in his heart, and Michael realized that he genuinely felt sorry for Sarah. To be young and full of such hungers and desires and yet unable to act on them.
“It's only one night.” He said to himself. He walked over to where she was sitting. He took her in hand and brought her to her feet. The top of her head barely came up to his sternum. As petite as Deborah had been, she was still taller than Sarah. Michael could not figure out how to kiss her without bending over double.
Sarah's look of heartache disappeared, replaced with one of genuine mirth, not just because Michael had clearly changed his mind, but also at the awkwardness of the moment. She brought his hand to her mouth and gently kissed his fingers. “I think you'll find our difference in height not so difficult on my bed.”
---
Michael did not quite know what to expect as they came into Sarah's chambers together. Worst case, she used him for her pleasure as he so often did his prey. Pleasurable sex, but devoid of emotion or genuine desire. Yet her disappointment at his initial refusal seemed so keen, so profound, that he suspected she was truly seeking something far deeper and meaningful than a mere one-night stand.
She paused at the foot of the bed. “Can you?” she motioned towards the clasps on the back her dress. Michael undid them and she disrobed to reveal herself.
“I thought you said no tricks.” said Michael, taken aback. She was not quite so childlike as he'd thought now that he saw her in the nude. Her breasts were tiny, not even an A-cup, but they were more formed than he expected. But, in truth, that was the only thing truly child-like about her. Her hips were nicely curved and the patch of hair between her legs was thick and pronounced. This was not at all what he expected.
“My words were honest, if not necessarily my appearance.” she replied.
“Another test?”
“Not really.”
“Why hide the truth when you want so badly to be desired?”
“Because, with you, I wish to be desired for more than my body. I want you to want my mind and my heart. But there are others who I want very much so to see me as vulnerable, weak, child-like.”
“Your prey?”
“Did you sire teach you so little about our nature? Every bit of what we are can be used to lure in the precious blood we need. Our powers, our strength, our heightened senses. Even, in some cases, our weaknesses. Does not a Nosferatu become all the more dread a predator by the fear and revulsion their appearance generates? Would not a poor innocent child such as myself draw in the unwary?” She let that thought linger in his mind. “It's not just my prey. My enemies also have found me too little a threat to bother with. There's a reason I was the only one of the Servants who was on Prince Lazarus' good side.”
“Servants?”
“The Servants of Typhon. A coterie of Kindred who worship a variety of non-Christian religions. To put it mildly, the former Prince and his Lancea Sanctum goons in the Disciples coterie don't have a very high opinion of us.”
“Politics. I thought you said you cared nothing for them.”
“I don't. Hence why I make myself appear as innocent and harmless as a little child.” She spread her arms out to draw his eyes in. She allowed him a long look before she moved to undress him.
“Not so innocent.” quipped Michael.
“Oh, no. Not at all.” She then guided him to the bed.
---
Michael's continued to find Sarah surprising as they made love. She did not “use” him, but seemed as genuinely interested in his pleasure as her own. There was a great deal of tenderness and affection in everything she did, and as the night went on, Michael found himself more and more aroused by it. She took him time and again, taking the lead each time. Michael was not accustomed to being passive in sex, but he found he enjoyed it.
But even a vampire's stamina has its limits. After hours of passion, they found themselves simply cuddling under the covers, spent.
“It will soon be dawn.” he admitted.
“Stay the day with me.” she asked demurely.
“I will.” he replied without hesitation.
“Not so bad after all?” she teased. “And to think how you hesitated.”
Michael gave her a side-long look and she giggled. “You take great pleasure in throwing people's expectations off.”
“I told you earlier the advantages thereof.”
“No, what I'm talking about is something different. That was real...what we just shared. Your affections were real. Your emotions. All of it. I'm so used to being used as a tool by others, that to have someone be honest and sincere and genuine is strange to me. I thought all your talk about my innermost self was just some means to manipulate me.”
“And yet you came anyway.”
“Part of it is because I'm a sucker. You made me feel sorry for you with how hurt you seemed when I said no. But that was real too, wasn't it?”
She nodded quietly.
“There's one thing I don't get. Why me?” He asked her.
“There are those of us who seek out this sort of life; whether they become true monsters or not is in some ways irrelevant. Then there are those who have it thrust upon them.”
“I'm the former.”
“Are you? I don't believe it and I don't think you do either. Oh, you might think you wanted all this. Revenge for a broken-heart and all that. But now that the package has been delivered, you're coming to realize it's a lot more than you bargained for. If you were truly the monster you claim to be, you would have no regrets about those whose lives you've destroyed along the way. But regret it you do. You have a dark side, Michael. We all do. But, unlike some others, you still have light. And that is why I wanted to be with you.”
“And how did you know that? How did you know all those things about me?”
“My divinations, my read of you at Lazarus' party, the way you carried yourself, what I could glean from reading your thoughts. All that. Solomon I remember from his last visit to this region. And Ernie I know.” She let that dangle, as if there was more to tell that she was keeping to herself. “But you were unknown. I wanted to know if you were a threat, but what I discovered intrigued me. Dare I say attracted me. I bided my time, hoping for an opportunity to actually meet you. It seems Ernie gave me that.”
“How did you know he was the one that told me about you?”
“Because he would be the one to know I could help you with Pastor Ian. Although if your fears of him have merit, I suspect that tonight would not have been what he wanted to happen between us.”
Michael cast his mind back to what Ernie had said about Sarah. “Perhaps not, but I'm quite certain he knew it would.” Michael wondered silently at the mystery of Ernie's motivations. “You seem to know a lot about him.” He observed aloud.
“Well, he's a rather infamous character and infamous in many cities along the East Coast. But I know him better than most.” She paused, as if reluctant to say more. “I'm his childe.” She finally admitted.
Michael was astonished at that revelation. “Really?”
“Yes, he's the one who brought me into darkness. You see, I'm one of those who had all this thrust upon her. Ernie, like so many others when I was young, thought I was mad. So he made me his. But I wasn't insane after all, much to his disappointment.”
“There's a story there.” Michael interrupted.
“Yes, but it will wait. Dawn comes soon, but before it steals us away, I must ask something of you.”
“That is?”
“What you learned of me tonight. What you know of my body and development must remain a secret.”
Michael was curious as to why that would be so important. She noticed his hesitancy. “It's important that my 'cover,' as it were, not be blown.” She explained. “It would complicate things greatly for me. But I am also aware that keeping this secret will complicate things for you. Others will judge you harshly for our relationship. Mortal moral norms are not so easily discarded among our kind, particularly among the self-righteous of the Lancea Sanctum like the Disciples coterie. I know I'm asking a lot...”
“You took an immense risk in trusting me. It seems I owe you the same. I will keep your secret.”
Sarah smiled and gave him a quick kiss. With that, she and Michael both fell asleep.
---
Michael’s eyes popped open suddenly. Although he could not see outside, he knew instinctively that the sun had set once more and that night had fallen. He shuffled on the bed slowly, working the stiffness from his limbs. In doing so, he tapped his companion, but Sarah did not stir.
Michael looked over at her. She appeared to still be slumbering. Curiosity mingled with the stirring memories of the night before took over and he pulled back the sheets to gaze upon her nudity. He could not help but laugh at how well she'd fooled him and everyone else as well. His eyes traced down her body from face to foot and then back again. When they settled on her face, he saw that her eyes were open. She smiled.
“I think you like what you see.”
“You got what you wanted.” confessed Michael, “What I find most attractive about you is here…” He tapped her forehead. “…and here.” He poked her chest near her heart. “But I also have to admit I'm more fond of here than I thought I'd be.” He ran his finger across one of her nipples; her breasts were so small that they were practically all nipple. She smiled at that. "And especially here." He continued, bringing his hand down to the small triangle of hair between her legs and sliding a finger inside. She let out a small gasp. “You like that.” She nodded and he smiled.
He climbed on top of her and entered her and their lovemaking resumed. Unlike the night before, Michael took the initiative this time, taking her aggressively as he would any other lover and Sarah proved more than eager to the challenge.
After an hour or so, he made ready to take her again when she stopped him. “We are much alike, Michael Allens. We both find that being desired is intoxicating, enrapturing. But if we keep at this, we’ll go all night again and your friend still needs my help.”
Michael nodded. “Good point.”
Sarah stood up and headed over to a cedar chest sitting against the wall. She opened it and began to gather up a number of items: bottles, books, and other esoteric items that Michael couldn’t begin to understand their purpose.
“I’ve spent my unlife studying the occult and I think I know precisely what’s wrong with Pastor Ian. His body is here, but his soul is still lost in the Hedges.”
“Ernie said something to that effect.” Said Michael as he started to get dressed. “What do you mean by hedges?”
“I’ll explain on the way.” She said, gathering up her various items into a small duffel.
As she donned a simple cloak, Michael interjected, “Is that all you’re wearing?”
“Spirits and other denizens of the shadows respect candor and honesty. The rites and rituals that I have studied often leave little room for modesty.”
“Maybe so, but given what you asked of me last night, you're not making it easy.”
“I trust you will find a way. This is necessary.”
“Very well.” said Michael.
Sarah pulled the cloak around herself to conceal her nudity. “Come, we’re wasting time.”
---
As they drove back towards the Fox Club, Sarah continued her story.
“I know what is wrong with Pastor Ian because I have studied this extensively. And the reason I did that relates directly to reason I was embraced into darkness.” She began to explain.
“I’m a twin. My sister Lisa and I did everything together. But one day something changed. She became different, a stranger. She wasn’t herself any more. The change was subtle, almost undetectable, but I knew. I was her twin; we shared a womb together. That’s probably the only way I would have known.
“No one else believed me. The more I spoke of it, the crazier they thought I was. My parents took me to counselors, therapists, all trying to figure out what was wrong with me. But I was the normal one. But then it happened…” Her voice trailed off and she was silent for a few moments, as if trying muster her strength to tell the next part.
“Lisa and I were playing in the backyard.” She continued. “And then she came out of the woods. My sister. My real sister. There were two of them. One, her but not her, the other disheveled, feral even. They began to fight, but the first Lisa, the fake, was stronger. I watched her strangle my real sister to death. I picked up a rock and slammed it as hard as I could into the back of her head, the false sister. She hit the ground and she just came apart; dust, gears, bits of string.”
She looked into the bewildered face of Michael. “Madness, right? None of it made any sense to me either. When my parents found us, they found Lisa dead, my real sister who had not been there for years. They didn’t believe my story anymore than you do right now. They said I was insane. They put me in a hospital. But I knew the truth. Something had taken my sister from me, first by abducting her and then later by murdering her. No one believed me. They all thought me mad, incurably so since I refused to recant my crazy story.
“That was when Ernie found me. Locked up in that hospital, pumped full of drugs to keep me docile. After all, I was a murderer, so crazy I’d killed my own sister. He took me, embraced me, made me his childe, and broke me out of there. I was born to darkness. Now that I knew that monsters were real, I set out to find out what sort of monster had stolen and killed Lisa.”
“I take it you found out.”
“I did.” Her tone shifted. Less personal, more academic. “The spirit world is more complicated than most people know. Most everyone believes in a spirit world., sometimes without even realizing it. The place where angels live or ghosts or whatever. Most see it like a coin, on one side is the real world, the world we know, the physical world. The other is the realm of spirits. But that is not the case. No, reality is more like a pyramid. Its base, our world, the physical realm, is a triangle. One side is what we call Twilight, the realm of ghosts, the restless spirits of the dead. The next is called Shadow. Here dwell the fundamental spirits of all things, spirits of water and air, of emotion, the spirits of animals, the elements, and so forth. The third side is called Arcadia and it is the realm of the fae.”
“Fae? As in fairies?”
“Yes, but this is not Tinkerbell we're talking about here. They have godlike power and are unfathomable in their minds. When Lovecraft was conjuring up his Cthulhu mythos to the delight of his readers, he could easily have been speaking of the denizens of Arcadia.”
Michael tried to wrap his mind around that. Imagining the eldritch beasts of a horror writer's creativity as the truer form of what mortals called fairies was a bit of a stretch.
“So how did your sister get mixed up in these things?”
“Let me tell you first that each of these spiritual realms has their own rules, their own physics. Werewolves are fundamentally creatures of both this world and the Shadow, and some among their number can pass between them. Mages have unlocked the secrets of Twilight and of the Shadow. But none have penetrated Arcadia. It is forbidden, cut off. The only ones who go there are those who are taken there by the Fae themselves.”
“Abducted?” interjected Michael.
“Yes, and that is what happened to my sister. The fae, for reasons unknown, take a fancy to mortals from time to time. They will kidnap them, take them to Arcadia, and make slaves of them. For some, it becomes a life of unimaginable pleasure. For others, a nightmare from which there is no waking. And still for others, it is both at the same time. But some escape, make their way back into the real world. But Arcadia changes mortals, alters them into something not quite human anymore. We call them changelings and just as you have met vampires, werewolves, and magi, now it is your turn to meet those who call themselves the Lost. Your pastor friend is the first.”
“You think he's one of them?”
“I am certain of it. But the Hedge, the boundary between our world and Arcadia, is a terrible thing. Not everyone who gets through comes out whole, which is your friend's fate, I fear. But even once restored his life will never be the same. There is the fetch to consider.”
“Fetch?”
“One would think that if a person simply disappeared periodically, you’d hear about it. The media would report it. The police would investigate it.”
“And that does happen.”
“Yes. Sometimes, people disappear because they’ve fallen victim. A vampire made a snack of them. A criminal murders them. But sometimes a person disappears and no one knows it. This is the purpose of the fetch. It’s a copy. A duplicate of the person. Crafted by fae magic, they know all that you know and are near perfect mimics. They live your life for you and no one realizes that you are even gone.”
“Your sister. ..”
“Yes. It was her fetch that I murdered after the same had killed the real her. My sister made it back. She found a way across the Hedge and not knowing any better, she came home. And home is where she died.”
“Your story is…unbelievable.” Commented Michael. “But I’ve encountered enough weirdness since I was reborn a vampire to know all that you say is possible. Still, I wonder, who was it that I saw as my pastor all those years? All the ID we found on Pastor Ian was from years ago.”
“From when he was taken, no doubt.”
“So the man who mentored me. The guy who picked me up from the bus station when I went home on weekends. That wasn’t him. It was his fetch.”
“Yes, and you never knew. No one else did either.”
“What happens if you free him? Will this fetch come looking for him?”
“Probably not. The next move is Ian's. He could go back home, only to discover another living his life, loving his wife, raising his kids, working his job. He could confront his fetch, maybe even destroy it, but can he fit in again? He’s missed so much. The fetch knows, because he was there, but the real Pastor Ian wasn’t and he knows nothing of what’s happened since he was taken. No, that way is likely nothing but pain and misery. More like, he’ll seek out other changelings and start over. Leave his old life behind.”
“Are we really doing him a favor by setting him free?” Michael wondered aloud.
Sarah shrugged. “I think most of us would like the choice. He’d had so few of those over the years. Best to give him the option to carve his own destiny henceforth. It’s not right to stand in the way of that, no matter how horrible we think the circumstances of his life.”
Michael shook his head. “I’m still getting used to reconciling the difference between your appearance and your mind. And yet, even beyond that, you seem far wiser than a 26 year old human would be.”
“I was made a vampire at twelve years old and thrust into a dark and adult world far earlier than you were. That’s probably why. It’s how I’ve survived.” With that, she fell silent.
To Chapter Four
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