Vampire Addiction (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Phoebe

The youngest member of the Angelis family lay on her cot in Mamá and Babá’s bedroom watching a video on Babá’s phone.

Before making herself visible, Gertie asked Jeno to remember to give her an illusion of clothes.

No worries,
he said.

She stifled a laugh. Here she was, sneaking into her host family’s apartment, naked, invisible, and using vampire powers to read the mind of its most fragile member, and Jeno was telling her no worries.

You don’t have to do this,
he repeated.

Gertie stepped back into the hallway, checked to make sure neither Mamá nor Babá were in sight, and then released her energy from its turtle shell. She was astonished to see herself in the same dress she had just given to Jeno.

You’re good,
she said to him.

I’ve had a little practice.

Phoebe noticed her as soon as Gertie re-entered the room.

“Hi, Phoebe,” Gertie said, as casually as she could. “Mamá and Babá don’t know I’m here. I wanted to ask you something.”

Gertie had never spoken directly to her, so she was surprised when a look of panic crossed the girl’s face. Phoebe dropped the phone on the cot and moved to the corner of the room, with her back against the wall.

“Don’t be scared,” Gertie said. “I just want to talk.”

Phoebe did not seem comforted. She continued to glare back in horror at Gertie.

At least she’s looking into my eyes.

Look deeply
, Jeno said.
Make her look deeply into your eyes, too.

“Look deeply into my eyes,” Gertie commanded, gently.

Phoebe’s eyes locked onto hers. The little girl flattened against the wall, her heart pounding out of control, and her mouth strained open, as though she were silently screaming.

Gertie was wracked by guilt for putting her little friend through such terror. “No need to be afraid, Phoebe.”

Gertie looked beyond her friend’s eyes, deep into her brain, and was shocked by the vision that began to unfold before her.

Gertie was lying in a bed in a room filled with smoke. Across from her, a toddler stood in a crib, gripping the rails.

Damien.

He had thin, dark curls on his round little head, and his dark eyes were blinking against the smoke. The pacifier he’d been sucking on fell out of his mouth and onto the hardwood floor.

Gertie found it difficult to breathe. She looked near the closed door to the source of the smoke. A fan was making a grinding sound and sparks and flames shot from its motor. One spark shot out and leapt onto the curtain just above Damien’s crib. The entire window was soon in flames.

Gertie wanted to scream, but no sound came from her throat. She lay there, paralyzed with fear.

Damien fell down on his bottom in the crib. He choked out a cry, and then he disappeared behind a veil of smoke and flames. Gertie tried once more to scream.

The door to the room swung open. Babá met her eyes with a look of horror and shouted at her to get out, but Gertie couldn’t move. Then he began a horrid dance with flaming blankets and pillows as he struggled to rescue Damien. The baby’s body was limp in Babá’s trembling arms as he headed for the door.

“Elate mazy mou!” Babá shouted, which Gertie now recognized as, “Come with me!”

Babá ran through the door, but Gertie was still paralyzed and now barely able to breathe. Seconds later, Mamá ran to the bed and swept Gertie into her arms. She rushed from the apartment and out onto the street, where Babá stood with Damien, who was badly burned and no longer moving. She hoped with all her heart that he was sleeping.

Mamá sat Gertie up on her feet and rushed to Damien. Her ear-splitting shriek made Gertie lose her balance and fall onto the curb.

Gertie looked for Nikita and Klaus and saw them screaming near the building for everyone to get out. Others ran down the steps and into the streets, coughing up smoke.

“Na me voi̱thí̱sei!” Mamá shouted into the dark night. Gertie understood it to mean, “Help me!”

Then Gertie had a shock. Mamá added, “Jeno, na me voi̱thí̱sei! Sas iketév̱o̱!”

Jeno?

Yes, koureetsi mou. Marta called to me, and I came. Let’s go now. You know what happened.

Gertie wasn’t ready to go. She continued to gaze into Phoebe’s eyes and relive that awful night.

Jeno appeared beside Mamá.

“Save my baby! Please, Jeno!”

“I cannot
save
him,” Jeno said gently. “I can only turn him.”

“Do it!” Mamá cried.

“No!” Babá shouted, looking at the others with them in the street. In a lower voice, he asked, “Marta, are you crazy?”

“Is everyone out?” a neighbor cried in Greek.

“That’s everyone,” someone else confirmed.

Klaus and Nikita came and sat on the curb beside Gertie—one on each side of her. They huddled together. She could feel them trembling, could see them sobbing. Other people also sat on the curb, and others stood in the streets. No cars went by this late. It was the middle of the night.

Gertie thought she heard sirens in the distance. Someone must have called for help.

“Is Damien…” Nikita started to ask, and then didn’t.

Mamá held Damien protectively and stepped away from Babá. “Would you rather let him die? I can’t. I’m not ready to let my baby go!”

“This isn’t the way,” Babá said gently.

“Please, Nico! I beg of you! Just for a little while! Just long enough for me to hold him and speak to him and sing to him. Please, oh, God, please!”

Gertie was sobbing now, too. She couldn’t stand to see Mamá in such pain. She wanted to say, “Please, Babá!” but once again, she could not speak.

“It’s against the laws,” Jeno said to Mamá.

“If you ever loved me,” Mamá said fiercely, “do this for me!”

Babá rushed to the curb where Gertie sat between Klaus and Nikita. “Not in front of the children.”

“There’s no more time,” Jeno said. “Damien will soon be cold.”

“Do it now!” Mamá begged. “Stupefy these others, as I’ve seen you do before. Please, Jeno!” She handed the limp form of Damien over to Jeno, whose eyes flickered with hunger.

Jeno took the baby into his arms. Gertie saw his fangs protract just as he bent over Damien. The sight made her shudder. Babá tried to shield them from what was happening, but all three children watched with unbelieving and horrified faces as the vampire drained little Damien of blood.

Within a matter of seconds, Damien, whose cheek and neck were burned on one side, opened his eyes and sat up in Jeno’s arms. “Mamá?” He looked around the crowd for his mother.

His tiny voice brought joy to Gertie. She smiled and jumped to her feet. Tears streamed from her eyes as she ran toward the little boy, still in Jeno’s arms.

“Damien!” she cried.

Damien turned his sweet little face toward her and smiled. But then his mouth snapped open, revealing sharp fangs. Before Gertie could react, Damien flew at her and knocked her down onto the street. Sharp pains stabbed at her, all over her body. Damien was mauling her! He bit her face, her neck, her chest, and her wrist. He finally settled on her wrist, sucking up her blood. Gertie was surrounded by a frenzy of screams and people tugging her and Damien every which way. Finally Jeno took Damien with brute force.

The sound of sirens, the smell of smoke, and the blurry sight of colorful lights and bright red flames overwhelmed Gertie. She blinked against the spinning air. She felt dizzy and terrified.

Are you okay, koureetsi mou?

Who is talking?

It’s me, Jeno. Come away, now.

But what happened to Damien?

Gertie looked deeply into Phoebe’s eyes, deep into her brain. The scene changed.

She stood between Klaus and Nikita in the basement of the Angelis’s current apartment building. On the floor in front of them were two coffins. The larger one was closed and heavily chained. The smaller one was opened.

Gertie took a step and leaned over the lip of the coffin. It was Damien.

“Say goodbye, koureetsti mou,” Mamá said through tears.

“Is he dead?” Nikita asked.

Mamá exchanged a troubled look with Babá, who said, “No. Just sleeping.”

Suddenly, Gertie was the one lying in the coffin. Her eyes were closed, but she could sense everyone in the room. She could also sense it when the coffin lid was closed on her. She heard the chains being secured and the click of the lock as it was fastened.

Then she sensed a small hand touch the coffin lid, and that spark of humanity made her open her eyes and beat on the lid in a state of panic and terror. Screams echoed throughout the room.

“Don’t touch it!” Mamá cried.

Once the hand left the wood, the spark left her body. She realized as she lay there, no longer able to move, that the hand had been Phoebe’s. She could sense everything Phoebe did and said, and she could tell that Phoebe could sense Gertie, too.

But that one comfort was not enough to quell the terrifying fact that she was trapped in a coffin with no hope of escape. As she sensed the Angelis family leaving her there all alone—not alone, there was another presence with her—the gripping realization that they would never let her out made her want to scream.

She strained, but she could not open her mouth. She could not move a muscle. She could only lie there, buried in the coffin, alive.

A loud shriek brought Gertie from the vision. Phoebe stood across the room, still flattened against the wall in the corner, but she had broken eye contact and was screaming frantically as tears poured down her face.

As soon as Gertie realized that Mamá and Babá were coming, she pulled all her energy inward, attempting to make herself invisible. But the trauma of the vision had drained her of strength, and she fumbled with it. She saw herself shimmering, like a hologram in a science fiction flick.

Mamá crossed the room to Phoebe and took her daughter in her arms. “What is this?”

Babá glared at Gertie. “What have you done?”

“Tramp stamp!” Mamá cried, pointing at Gertie’s neck and clinging to Phoebe. “She’s possessed!”

“How could you?” Babá demanded. “We welcomed you into our home, made you a part of our family. How could you betray us this way?”

“I wanted to help!” Gertie insisted. “Mamá, Babá, please listen. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t you know that Phoebe has already been through enough?” Mamá accused. “Confronting her in this way, this is not help!”

Phoebe buried her face in her mother’s embrace and sobbed.

“Get out of my home!” Babá shouted to Gertie. “And don’t come back until you’re yourself again. I can’t stand to see you this way!”

“But…”

“Go!” Mamá cried. “Just go! And when you come back, you can pack your things. We’re sending you back to America!”

Gertie’s stomach twisted into a knot. “What? No, please! I was only trying to help!”

Come away, koureetsi mou,
Jeno called to her.
Let them recover from their shock.

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Story of the Other Coffin

Gertie ran from the room and flew out of the window, to where Jeno was waiting for her. He took her in his arms and helped her back to the rock beneath the Parthenon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she shouted at Jeno.

“I tried to,” he said. “But you seemed determined to do this. And I didn’t know the full story. I wasn’t even sure if that’s why the girl won’t speak.”

She couldn’t believe how things had turned out. She’d only been trying to help, and now she’d ruined everything. The only family that had ever loved her now hated her. They were shipping her back to her parents, who’d never wanted her in the first place.

“The Angelis family doesn’t hate you,” Jeno said, as he helped her into her clothes and shoes.

“You didn’t see their faces.”

“They’re in shock.”

She flapped her hands in the air like a bird. “They’re sending me back. What am I going to do?”

“Give them time to recover.” He took her hands and kissed them.

“I’ll run away before they send me back. I don’t want to leave you.” She didn’t want to leave Nikita or Klaus or Hector, either.

“Take a deep breath and calm down.”

She paced around the rock. “I’m too worked up. I can’t shake the feeling of being in that coffin. Poor Damien. He’s trapped in there!”

“He’s in a coma.”

“No.” Gertie shook her head. “I saw inside his head.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Phoebe has some kind of psychic connection to him. She can hear his thoughts and sense his feelings, and he can sense hers.”

“What?”

“I’m telling you, Jeno. It was like I was inside Damien’s body, even though I was really inside Phoebe’s head. That’s why she can’t speak. She’s continually traumatized by Damien’s entrapment. He may not be able to move or to speak, but he’s aware. He’s not in a coma.”

“Thee moy,” Jeno said, sinking onto the rock. He sat on the edge, allowing his legs to hang over the side. “I can’t believe it.”

“What’s even worse is the other vampire in the coffin beside him. Damien is terrified of him.”

“But he shouldn’t be. Damien has no reason to fear my father.”

Gertie’s mouth dropped open. “Your father?”

Jeno patted the rock beside him. “Come sit with me.”

Although Gertie still felt spastic, she did as he had asked. She swung her legs over the edge, back and forth, as though she were kicking her demons away.

“Why is your father in the Angelis’s apartment basement?”

Jeno opened his mind to her and started to show her his memories.

“No more flashbacks. Please,” she said. “I’ve had enough for one night.”

“Remember how I told you my mother killed my sister and father and me?”

Gertie nodded.

“And then Dionysus was ordered by Zeus to repair our bodies?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I told you my father refused to drink human blood, which was how he went into a coma?”

“Yes?”

“Though now, if what you’re saying is true of
all
vampires, he’s not really been in a coma.” Jeno winced. “My poor father. And poor little Damien.”

“Go on, Jeno.”

“Well, just like every vampire, my father went crazy for human blood when he was first made. He could not control his blood lust—just like Damien couldn’t the night he attacked his sister.”

“I’m so sorry.” Gertie couldn’t imagine the feeling of being so out of control, as to hurt the ones you love without meaning to.

“My father and sister and I, along with the families of the original Maenads, are the first generation of vampires, but when we were formed, we created a second generation. Literally hundreds of new vampires were created during our blood lust.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Well, in every century, there is usually a group of humans that wants to destroy my kind, and they eventually learn that by killing
my
generation—me and my father and sister and so on—they will destroy all vampires.”

“What? Is that really true?”

“Yes. In fact, the newest vampires can even be restored to their original form, as long as they were heathy when they were turned.”

“You mean they can be human again?”

“That’s right.”
Though, that wouldn’t have worked for Damien.

Because he was already dying.

Exactly. And it wouldn’t work for vampires who have lived beyond their human lifespan. Their bodies degenerate immediately.

Gertie cocked her head to the side. “You know this from experience?”

“I’ve seen it happen many times. Whenever a vampire breaks the law and is destroyed by a demigod, all that vampire’s most recent victims are restored. The older ones die away. And any vampires
they
created also either die or are restored.”

“So what does this have to do with your father being in the Angelis’s apartment basement?”

Jeno squeezed Gertie’s hand. “When I turned Damien, I broke the law.”

“That’s right. So it wasn’t reported?”

“No, it was. Two of the firemen who put out the fire that night were demigods, and I couldn’t stupefy them. They saw what I’d done, and they couldn’t be made to forget.”

Gertie covered her mouth. “Oh, no. So what did you do?”

“Marta came to my defense and admitted her part in it all. The firemen were sympathetic, and one of them even agreed that I should be spared, but they wanted Damien destroyed.”

“Why?”

“They had seen his attack on his sister. They knew that vampire babies are the most deadly. They have incredible strength and no self-control. Usually their victims don’t even see them coming.”

“It would have been better for Damien if they
had
destroyed him. He’s been trapped and terrified all these years.”

“You mustn’t tell Marta,” Jeno said. “You will break her heart.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me,” he said urgently.

“I promise.” Then she asked, “But what about Damien?”

Jeno put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. “Thee moy, yes. We must think of something. And for my father, too.”

“So, anyway, how were you and Damien spared?”

“The two demigods, Marta, and I, with Damien in my custody since he was a danger to everyone else, appeared before the court on Mount Olympus.”

“You what? Are you kidding me?”

“I speak the truth. I swear.”

“You saw the gods? You saw Zeus and Athena and Aphrodite?”

“Not in their true form,” he replied. “They took the shape of their animals. Zeus was a mighty eagle.”

“And he spoke to you?”

“Oh, yes. He yelled at me.”

“But you were only trying to help.”

“He said I should have known better. And I should have.”

“What else did he say?”

“He said that Damien would have to be either destroyed or deprived of blood until he went into a vampire coma, and then he must be bound into a tomb without the possibility of escape.”

“So that’s why he’s there. What about your father?”

“Lord Zeus also said that the vampires would have to give up my father’s body to be placed in the custody of humans. This would ensure that the humans would have leverage against any attempt by the vampires to break the laws. One stake through my father’s heart would kill all but the first generation of vampires.”

“What’s to stop anybody from doing that now? Aren’t you worried someone will sneak into the basement and destroy your father?”

“That’s where Hector comes in.”

“Hector?”

“The gods assigned him to be a protector and enforcer of their ruling. He makes sure Damien remains entombed, and he also protects my father.”

Nikita had said he was their protector. She had meant her family, not the vampires. “And does he also protect the Angelis family?”

“Yes. And the other mortals living in that apartment.”

“From what?”

“From vampires wanting to return my father to the caves below us.”

“And they would want to do that to ensure their own safety, right?”

“Right.”
And to ensure the success of an uprising.

“Uprising?”

“You heard my lord, Dionysus, the other night. He speaks of one every so often.”

“Do you think he was serious this time?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard talk among the caves. And if he was, the first thing the vampires would do is…”

“Rescue your father’s body.”

“And to do that, they would have to…”

“Get past Hector.”

“They would probably kill him,” Jeno said.

Gertie laid her head on Jeno’s shoulder. “You can’t let that happen.”

“I’ll do what I can, but I’m only one vampire.”

“You’d be sure to warn Hector and the Angelis family, though, right? If you ever heard news of such a thing?”

“Of course.” He stroked her hair. “But let’s not worry about that right now.”

“No, you’re right. We have enough already, like what I will do about Mamá and Babá. They can’t make me leave, Jeno.” Tears spilled from her eyes.