Dead Girls Don't Cry (15 page)

Jonathan’s voice rang in my head,
make them show proper respect
. He was a firm believer in following propriety. He allowed exceptions to his rules in private. “Nina, how do address me now?”

Nina bared her neck, “My blood is your blood.” Filth ringed her throat like a red necklace. Like I would drink from that. “Sorry, Sire.”

I tapped my foot.

“We received a message from the ship last night.” Nina, our resident nurse, had volunteered to learn about the ship’s communications systems since there wasn’t much call for medical attention among the undead.

My ears perked up. “From Jay?”

“No, Sire. A name I didn’t recognize – Kasia. She said to tell you, find the caves. And snap to it.”

“Have you told anyone else this message?”

“No, Sire.”

“I order you not to discuss this with anyone. If you receive any more messages from Kasia, come and find me immediately.”

When I arrived in the main dome, which was surprisingly undamaged, Ian and Prior were huddled over a large blueprint, scribbling formulas. Louis stood nearby, attention absorbed in paperwork.

“Prior, why is this dome okay?” I asked standing behind Ian. Enticing memories of our earlier intimacy flooded my mind, tightening my nipples. Dampness pooled between my thighs. I pressed my fingernails into my palm.

Ian’s back straightened. His thoughts seeped into my brain.
He wanted to pin me to the floor, tear off the red jumper and
….

How the hell—

“Ms. Cordial? Are you listening to me?” Prior’s irritated voice shifted my attention back.

“Mr. Prior, I would appreciate it, if you did not scold me like a headmaster,” which I suspected was his former occupation, “please continue your report. I
am
listening to you.”

Ian let out a soft snort, but otherwise remained silent.

Prior cleared his throat. “As I was saying, the main dome was constructed with new material designed to withstand Martian windstorms. Last night was the first time it was put to the test and I’m happy to say, it passed with flying colors.”

I stared at the dome’s gray interior. “This is from the ship.” Did we vampires have any technology that didn’t come from Kasia, the Wonder Ship?

“Why, yes,” Prior didn’t even bother to hide his surprise. “How did you know?”

“I’m not as stupid as my profession would lead you to believe. I was an educated, aristocratic lady at one time Mr. Prior.” One whose family wouldn’t have given a person of Prior’s social status the time of day.

And herein lay the crux of the problem. Old, human hang-ups didn’t vanish overnight, if ever. Prior clearly disliked me because of something. I had thought it was because I was a stripper. Now, I suspected my rich family upbringing may have been part of the problem. He seemed the J. Edgar Hoover type – a dossier on friends and enemies. See, he
was
a total creep.

“Total wanker,” Ian muttered under his breath. I shot him a dark look. Damn what he had said about mind reading. Or emotional sensing. Whatever. I wasn’t sure I liked this kind of familiarity. It was too much like the sire bond I had worked so hard to control.

“Please accept my apologies, Ms. Cordial,” said Prior with a tilt of the head, hinting more of FU than sorry.

I took a deep cleansing breath, which was silly since I didn’t need to breathe, but it calmed me anyway. “Do we have enough of this material to use for the rest of the colony?”

“Possibly. If we consider reinforcing the structures with cement, then we can make our limited supply of this material go further. We’ve discovered we can mix the alien matter with other things like sand or metal to create stronger buildings.”

I held up a finger. “Wait. You need water to make cement.”

“Correct, Ms. Cordial.” Prior beamed with an expression that said I had graduated to being smarter than a fence post. “We have teams out right now preparing to extract Martian permafrost. Again, thanks to newly discovered technology, we can replicate the water molecules and increase our supply.”

More ship tech, pawned off as Prior’s genius. “Why don’t you use the ship’s technology to duplicate the building material?”

“We haven’t progressed enough to understand every aspect of the science. So far, we’ve successfully replicated simple molecular structures. To date…”

My skin itched. Either from Prior’s non-stop blathering or from the dirt coating my skin. I cut in, “Louis, are my quarters still standing?”

Prior switched his attention to Ian and continued to discuss the merits of vampire technology. Poor Ian. I had to get clean before I hurt Prior. We needed the obnoxious jabber-jaw.

Louis appeared behind me. “You’re quarters are fine. I took the liberty of clearing out the shower room so you could clean off.” Past the point of caring if I was rude, I did an about face and walked away. Louis followed close on my heels.

A sour odor permeated the air as Louis and I entered what was left of the access tube leading to my quarters. Several zombies were engaged in repairs.

Louis wrinkled his nose. “Which one of you is molting?”

Molting? Sounded gross and I really didn’t care to know the details. I left Louis behind to deal with the guilty party.

After peeling off my dirty clothes and grabbing fresh ones, I tossed on a robe and tip-toed down to the shower room. The name is a bit of a misnomer. It implies running water, soap and luxurious cleanliness. None of those things happened in this space.

Instead, the “shower” was a type of torture chamber. Once inside the booth, a sonic cleaning device vibrated removing dirt from skin and hair. A series of concentric rings of energy passed vertically up, then down your body. In order for it to work effectively, I extended my arms over my head, gripping two straps for stability.

Why?

Because it tickled like hell, worse than any kind of tickle torture your demented Uncle Frank could ever inflict.

I howled with the laughter of the insane until crimson tears leaked out of my eyes, causing the machine to initiate another round of cleaning. Before I found myself standing there all day, I ended the session with a sharp verbal command. The final step, a spray of scented air, left me clean and smelling vaguely of flowers. Better than filthy and reeking of dirt.

I stood in front of a long mirror and brushed my hair until it gleamed. I twisted it up and off my neck with pins, making me appear more officious.

I made another mental note to self – find out from Kasia, if there were other clothes on the ship. Red hair, red uniforms and red earth. More red than a whore house. Which reminded me – I needed to locate a map and start searching for the caves. I tapped the stupid cuff bracelet, eerily quiet since we landed. “Do you have any other purpose than to drag me into portals?”

“Ms. Cordial? Are you ready to come out yet?” Louis’ muffled voice said through the door.

See, a girl can never get a moment to think. Not even on Mars.

~ * * * ~

About halfway through the day, I grew to believe repair work, while hard and dirty, would be preferable to sitting behind a desk besieged by numerous requests, sign-offs and disputes. We’d barely arrived and already I had paperwork? What on Earth or Mars for? I half expected an auditor to come through the door and request a look at my files.

Louis was no help. He dutifully recited the timeworn mantra of bureaucrats throughout the ages –
that’s the way it’s always been done
. I tossed the papers on his desk and stormed back into the cubby designated as my office. At least it had a door I could slam, in a wimpy metal barracks kind of way.

One by one, members of my family found time to visit me in the cubby. They offered their necks, which I politely declined, then each one presented a series of either complaints or requests. Some didn’t have a real purpose for visiting, only wanting reassurance from their sire.

The woes, mostly grievances about the primitive living conditions, I resolved by a creating The Improvement Committee or what I called them privately: the Complainers. The Complainer’s mission: come up with enhancement opportunities both short term and long range. My mother always believed, idleness was the Devil’s playground. This would give the whiners something to do.

The non-complainers, or Clingers, were placed in the newly minted, Morale Committee. Their job: brainstorm ways to make life more tolerable and to create a support group for likeminded individuals.

What’s the difference between the two groups? Not a whole heck of lot except their attitudes. In any case, it got them out of my office and made them responsible for owning their happiness. A nice mix of old world wisdom mixed with modern sensibilities. At least I liked to this think so.

If only my life were that simple.

The revenants and zombies also made their way into my office. Their concerns were nearly identical. I sorted them the appropriate committee. Quite easily done. The sooner everyone learned to get along the better.

One final petitioner remained at day’s end. Beckham provided me with a firsthand education on zombie molting. He stank of decay on a hot summer day. Large patches of skin and hair had flaked off. Newer, gray flesh lay underneath.

“So, how can I help you, Beckham?” I assessed the zombie, trying to place him with either the Complainers or Clingers. He stubbornly defied classification. It probably had something to do with a tray of seedlings he held on his lap. The plants were about four inches high, quite impressive growth. They must have been started on Earth and nurtured on the ship.

“I’m a Botanist,” he fidgeted, “but, I bet you guessed that.”

“Those are very impressive plants. How long did it take for you to grow them?”

He cleared his throat. “That’s why I’m here. I sowed the seeds last night.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

We stared at the tomato plants. Prior actually seemed a little scared since being confronted with a phenomena he couldn’t explain. Ian and Louis talked quietly between themselves. Harmony appeared not to give a rat’s ass and read the reports in her folder.

When Beckham first displayed his plants, Prior reacted as if he had been presented with a six foot tall, vampire eating Venus Flytrap. “Not possible,” he muttered over and over, until Ian poked him in the ribs.

I wished Jay was there. He’d be delighted. No doubt full of theories. The satellite receiver had been badly damaged in the storm, so until I found Kasia’s Cave of Wonder, we had no alternate way to communicate with the ship. I imagined Jay would be worried and attempting to find a way down. Hell, he might decide to fling himself out in a bubble.

“Beckham, tell us about the seeds,” Ian suggested.

While the hapless zombie outlined his planting procedures, lust washed over me. Psychic fingertips teased the skin along my exposed neck, trailing down my collarbone. Heat seared my breasts, then settled on my nipples. Warm wetness pooled between my thighs.

My head jerked up. Ian mouthed the words, “Later.”

I gripped the edge of the table to steady my quivering knees. Thank goodness vampires weren’t capable of blushing.

“Cherry, I suggest pairing Beckham with Marron. Isn’t he a scientist?” Ian asked, innocence on his face.

No fair. I would make him pay next time we were alone. “Yup. Great idea,” I squeaked. The psychic fingers skimmed the top of my panties, sending another spasm into my hot core. Anticipation heightened my need. Slow exquisite pressure crept closer to my clit. Then he touched me
there
. Sweet mother of—

“Are you feeling well, Ms. Cordial?” said Prior, his attention still fixed on the mutant tomato plants.

“Fine,” I gritted through my teeth. “Louis!” I shouted, startling my assistant. “What’s on the schedule for me today?”

Ian smiled broadly. My clitoris throbbed. I clenched my thighs together to ease the ache further inflaming the sensation.

Louis listed a series of appointments and one activity – attend the Moon Clan’s dedication ceremony. “We’ll attend. Right now!”

On the way out I heard Prior say, “She’s very dedicated to her job.”

Ian responded, “You have no idea, mate.”

Bastard.

~ * * * ~

Once out of the dome, the psychic love connection severed.

Louis studied me, a half smile on his face.

“What?” I snapped.

He shook his head, “Maybe it’s the light, but your face is flushed.”

I reached for my face and confirmed the heat on my cheeks. “Vampires don’t blush.” Denial was a beautiful thing. “Which way is this temple? And if materials are so scarce why did Prior authorize it?”

“He didn’t. They’re building a stone foundation. And they have carte blanche from the benefactor to use whatever materials they find on Mars.”

I bet that drove Prior’s need for order crazy.

The Moon Clan’s temple was already under construction. Ringed in stone, the ankle high foundation was partially submerged in the dusty Martian terrain. Revenants clad in orange robes worked in units of four, fetching, passing, and stacking the stone.

Harmony, as head priestess, stood in the center of the circle, hands raised in worship. Her eyes tracked our approach, yet she continued with her prayer.

While waiting I studied the Martian sky. A misshapen moon pockmarked with a large crater hung shockingly close to the horizon. It reminded me of a dough ball with a thumb print.

“Phobos,” Harmony informed me. “It circles Mars three times a day. Its brother Deimos appears less frequently. Thank you for coming.” I grudgingly admired Harmony’s cleanliness. Not a grain of dirt clung to her pearlescent skin. Grime already coated my neck, wrists and ankles.

“We appreciate the invitation.” I didn’t want to miss a chance to see a ritual unknown to vampire society. “What do you need us to do?”

Harmony draped a wreath of braided grass, intertwined with tiny stones and bits of either shell or bone around our necks. “We shall stand in a triangle. Each point dedicated to blood, flesh, and spirit.” A triangle had been etched in dirt and filled with smooth white stones, which must have originated on Earth. So far I hadn’t seen anything on Mars that clean or white.

After we were arranged in the appropriate fashion, a pair of priestesses approached. The taller of the two, with elfin features and dark hair, held earthen jars in each hand. The second, more buxom, female held clear glass orbs. Harmony held out two crimson stones, motioning for me to take them. The dark haired priestess handed Louis the jars, while Harmony palmed the orbs.

An unspoken command rippled through the worker priests. They stopped work and formed a second circle around our triangle. The priests chanted low and mournful. The two priestesses sang high and clear.

“The song of life and death,” Harmony said, “sung since the time of our births. Each object represents our bond to the Gods. Clay of earth for our zombie brethren, stone of blood for our vampire kin. And the breath of spirit for revenants. These are our offerings to the ancients.”

“Join me in honoring them.” Harmony closed her eyes, raised the offerings, then knelt on her designated triangle point. Louis and I followed suit. Electric jolts raced across my arms, through my torso and down to the ground.

Louis gasped and started to speak.

“Don’t talk or open your eyes,” Harmony’s voice was laced with power, similar to vampire compulsion, except different. The need to obey wasn’t present in the words. Instead a tranquil peace filled my heart and relaxed my body.

Heat scorched my wrist. The cuff had awakened. Harmony switched languages. The same weird language I heard in my dreams. The assembled throng sang with joy. The bracelet radiated energy.

“Open your eyes!” Harmony boomed, “Behold the glory of the Gods.”

A dome of light had formed over our heads, anchored by the stone perimeter wall. A million colors danced on the surface, swirling gracefully. Patterns formed and dissolved before I could recognize them. Moon glow filled the revenants' eyes and illuminated their bodies. Eerie, undead gods of light.

The song stopped on a high note. A single rune, larger than life, appeared on the dome’s zenith. It hardened into place, solidifying the roof into a beautiful glass-like bubble.

“Go with the Gods, my friends. Much thanks for your help.” Harmony lifted the red stones from my palms. With their weight gone, the lightness left my soul and my leaden body refused to move. Two priests caught me under the arms. Louis received similar treatment as his gifts were retrieved.

“Rest now. Tomorrow, if you wish, I will answer your questions,” Harmony said from a great distance. The moon glow remained in their eyes. Words failed. The curtain of sleep fell over me.

~ * * * ~

The lake glittered under the rising sun. Birds sang sweetly, glad to see the dawn. I floated naked in the cool waters, my hair fanned out in a red blanket. Drifting on my back, the blue sky seemed limitless and infinite.

Lazily, lake currents pulled me away from the shore. In the distance, the windows of my cottage glowed soft and yellow. Happy lights of hearth and home.

I could stay like this for hours. Joy permeated my entire being. If there was a heaven, this was it for me. For what seemed like hours, I drank in the vast sky, savoring the clouds and the occasional bird in flight.

With a contented sigh I looked back at my house. It was gone.

Replaced by rolling hills of red dirt, jagged rock and weak blue sky. Gritty sand blew into my face, stinging my eyes. Brackish black water surrounded me, forming a goopy clay. I thrashed my arms and legs. The dirty water sucked me down. Quick sand closed over me, clogging my throat and coating my eyes and nose.

Suffocating darkness pressed in on all sides.
Trapped
.

I screamed. At first, my body refused to move. Wild with fear, I thrashed on the bed.

“Cherry!” The thin metal door to my quarters screeched, then tore like paper. Ian clutched my shoulders and sat me upright.

Tremors shook my limbs. My lungs filled and expanded, thirsty for air I didn’t need. Between gasps, I tried to speak. “Trapped. Black mud…”

“Shhh . . . nothing will hurt you now,” Ian stroked my face and caressed my back until I regained control. “You’re safe.”

“I
hate
this place, Ian,” I whispered against his bare chest. Tribal tattoos in blue and black ink decorated his pecs and abs. Banded Celtic designs encircled each of his biceps. I didn’t recall seeing them before. Too distraught to care, I hugged him tightly until the cold fear washed away.

“I heard Harmony invited you to the Moon Ceremony. If she did this to you…” he growled.

“No. I was having weird dreams before this started.” I wiped my tears off Ian’s chest. “Something about the ceremony made them worse.” I forced a slight grin, swallowing the bitter ache lodged in my throat.

Ian smoothed back my hair, “Ah, I know the feeling. I used to miss my home, my family so much, my bones hurt.”

“Does it ever get better?” Losing the cottage and its contents severed the last tie with my former humanity. The few possessions I had, my sister Grace’s hand crocheted lace doilies, Edwin’s favorite tins soldier, my mother’s family bible that dated before the American Revolution, my Pa’s pipe, and dozens of books and photographs. Gone. Either destroyed in the fire or left behind in our mad dash to escape.

“Time eases the ache to a dull pain. You learn to move on. The past can’t hurt you as much.”

“The present sure can pack a punch.” It always came back to Thalia. The power grubbing wench.

“Indeed.” Ian eased back, tilting my head towards his. Soft lips brushed mine in a feather kiss. “Regretfully, we are needed in the common room.”

I blinked, confused.

“The committees you formed would like to make their report.” Ian’s eyes sparkled. “Lovely idea by the way. Highly creative. I would have told them to piss off and been done with it.”

“I thought it would keep them busy for a while,” I grumbled, mind filled with uncharitable thoughts. Like giving them dusting duty with toothbrushes. “At least longer than a day or two.”

Ian moved off the cot and extended a hand, which I gratefully took.

Calm thoughts filled my mind. I shot Ian a dark glare. “How long will the blood connection last?”

Ian shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

“Well, wipe the shit eating grin off your face.” He didn’t have to enjoy it so much, did he?

~ * * * ~

The Improvement Committee’s suggestions bordered on ridiculous. Things like install hot water showers and carpeting – not gonna happen anytime soon. I had a plenty of WWJD (what would Jonathan do) moments. In the end, I praised them, even though their suggestions were idiotic and asked them to create detailed plans to make their ideas a reality. Cripes, I hoped it kept them busy for at least a week.

Next up, the Clingers on the Morale Committee, had more practical ideas, like storytelling nights, sing a-longs and card games. Turns out someone had thoughtfully packed books, sheet music, board games and cards in one of the cargo containers. Those suggestions were implemented immediately.

At the end of the meeting, I pulled aside Van, one of Fang Bang’s former bouncers. He had been an army chaplain and counselor in his human life. He agreed to set up a weekly support group. Other colonists had to be suffering from homesickness too.

Duty discharged, I escaped out into the Martian night. The stars glistened, sharp and clear. An incredible sight. Frigid breezes blew fine dust over the tops of my feet, but I didn’t care. Five minutes of peace and quiet were priceless. Thanks to Ian, the emotional overload of the family’s thoughts was reined in, but the general sense of unease in everyone concerned me. The colony wouldn’t survive long term if everyone went stir-crazy, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sooner or later, Thalia would find us.

A dark shape dropped from the sky and landed in front of me.

I jumped back, ready to fight, then relaxed at the sight of my favorite rogue. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

“Fancy a flight, luv?” Ian scooped me up before I could refuse. The ground rushed away with blinding speed. A large backpack hung between Ian’s shoulder blades.

I clung to him like Velcro. “Ian don’t fly so high. I don’t like it.”

He dipped down. I yelped. “Not so fast either.”

“Sorry. It’s the change in gravity. Still don’t have the hang of it yet.”

“Why didn’t we fly before?”

“Are you crazy? Do I look like Superman? Was I supposed to carry the cargo box with one hand and you with the other.” Ian laughed, the sound carried away by the rushing wind.

“Could you teach me to fly?” What was I saying? I hated heights. Yet, a small part of me relished the idea.