Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Crystal ❯ Chapter 11

Crystal, Chapter 11:

 

 

Things quieted down after that. Paul avoided me, and although Kenny still went for talks with Michael, he didn't learn anything new. Uncle Robert walked a fine line between reconnecting with his estranged sons and protecting Johnny's secret. Uncle Robert had pledged himself to Johnny, and that loyalty came above all else. I could see how it ate at him, though, that he could not share the secret of Johnny's existence with his own sons. We couldn't trust them, however. They were hunters whose sole reason for being was the annihilation of the vampire taint in our veins. Well, except for themselves, which I personally found quite hypocritical.

 

My troubles were all typical teenage troubles.

 

“You know, Crystal,” my mother began, as she was cutting up apple slices for the boys' snack. I sat at the table eating a very late breakfast of toast and tea. “You've been spending a lot of time with Johnny lately.”

 

My brothers looked up with interest at the mention of Johnny's name.

 

“You're only sixteen,” she said, putting two plates in front of Kevin and Ian, and another in front of me. “Don't rush into things.”

 

“We're not,” I mumbled. Johnny and I were destined to be together. My mother was fully aware that he intended to bring me to his life as a vampire, although she still had hopes that I would change my mind. But she believed that it would happen in some indeterminate future, not here, not now. But that's not what she meant.

 

She gave me a long look, then turned to wash up her cutting board and knife. “You shouldn't rush into things just because you broke up with Paul,” she said with her back to me.

 

“I didn't break up with Paul,” I told her. “I was never going out with him in the first place. It was always Johnny—it's always been Johnny, you know that.”

 

“I know.” Her voice came out as barely a whisper. She dried her hands on a dishtowel and turned to face me. “I know that. But you're too young to have boys in your room.”

 

So she had noticed Johnny stayed over in my room the other night. I swallowed my suddenly dry toast. “Mom,” I sighed. I couldn't believe my own mother was okay with me becoming a vampire, but not with me having—sex.

 

“So I've been thinking,” she said brightly, as if she hadn't just been on the verge of tears, “you have all summer ahead of you and no job, and I have two very lively little boys and no time to myself. How would you like to officially babysit your brothers, a few days a week? I'll pay you—Johnny can get some much needed rest—and you can still see him, within reason, in the evenings.”

 

Johnny did need to sleep. Between my growing cravings for blood, and my boy troubles—Scott and Paul—Johnny had been spending more time with me than was healthy for him. He was staying awake far longer into the daylight hours because of me. I guess I could resign myself to seeing Johnny only at night. Oh, but he wasn't going to like it.

 

A part of me thought maybe this would be the catalyst that would finally push him into bringing me under the water to complete my change. “All right,” I said, “but on Tuesdays and Thursdays I have Driver's Ed starting next week.”

 

“That's fine. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 9 to 5 should work perfectly. Can you start tomorrow?”

 

It's funny how ordinary life never remains ordinary for very long.

 

Johnny hardly raised an eyebrow at my new `job,' and he went without protest under the water during the day. But at night, he came for me. He didn't care if my mother knew what we were doing or not. Of course, I did. We snuck off to the cottage when we could, but during the summer my relatives often stayed there, so it wasn't always an option. During the day, I ignored my occasional cravings for blood—I didn't need it, after all, I only wanted it. But I made up for it at night, when Johnny would take me out and we would hunt. Ordinary. For us.

 

I only ran into Paul once. I had the kids at the little library, which was within walking distance from our house, and he was inside, reading a reference book. His brother Michael was with him, and he glared at me from under furrowed brows. I murmured a quick hello, and brushed past them to the children's section. While I read stories to my brothers, I could feel Paul's eyes on me, but whenever I looked up, he glanced quickly away. They left before we did, and Paul stopped briefly to talk to us.

 

My brothers were glad to see him. Kevin excitedly told him all about his new school which he would be starting in September, then of course Ian had to go on and on about how he was going to big boy's school too. I shook my head in amusement, and Paul caught my eye and smiled. “You're good with them,” he said.

 

I enjoyed looking after my little brothers. It wasn't bad getting paid for it, either. I would have done it anyway. My Mom finally had time to take an art class at the Town Hall. Of course, I hated being stuck at home, or at the library, or if I didn't mind a long walk, at the lake. After I finished Driver's Ed, I could finally go for my license. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the Driver Ed teacher picked me up at the end of our driveway, and I had an hour of driving practice, which turned into about three hours, because we had to pick up two other student drivers during the course of our lessons. At the end, we each got dropped off back at our houses where we started.

 

“See you next week!” I waved and started up the driveway, already anticipating the lunch my mother would have ready for me. I loved driving lessons, but they started way too early in the morning in my opinion. My feet stuttered to a halt as I saw Paul's car in our driveway. What was he doing here? I walked past, noticing the open trunk with several suitcases and carry-on bags inside. Were the Scottish brothers finally leaving? Good! I was relieved, until I glanced in the side window and saw a child's car seat.

 

I began running towards the front door. “Mom!” I yelled in panic. The house was too quiet.

 

I found her in the kitchen, sitting stiffly in my chair facing Michael Brown. Neither of my brothers was in sight. “Mom, what's going on?” I asked, dreading the answer. “Where are Kevin and Ian?”

 

Michael scowled at me and started to get out of his chair.

 

“Crystal, go—get—Johnny!” my mother said, just as Michael reached for me. I turned and ran back the way I had come. I nearly bumped into Paul who was coming down the stairs with another suitcase in his hands.

 

“Crystal, wait!” he called, setting down the suitcase and starting after me. I ran faster. Paul chased me, but I had a good head start. My worst fears were being realized—my vision was about to come true!

 

I ran through the little woods in our front yard, across the road and towards the cemetery. In back of me, I could hear a car starting, and knew it wouldn't be long before Paul caught up to me. I cut through the cemetery. Paul wouldn't be able to get his car through the rusted gate, and by the time he followed me on foot, I would be long gone. I clambered over the low stone wall and down an embankment to somebody's backyard on the other side, then across to the dirt road which looped around the lake. I had to get to the water!

 

I took a chance and ran down a steep gravel driveway towards an A-Frame cottage which had no cars parked up top. The cottage had a small beach with a dock that jutted out into the water. I didn't see any people around, and I was running out of time. I ran to the end of the dock and dropped to my knees. After my fiasco with Scott, I had decided never to be without a means of breaking the skin should my need ever overwhelm my good sense again. I had a small jackknife in my pants pocket, which I opened with my teeth. I plunged the tip of the blade into my palm and squeezed several drops of my blood into the black water. “Johnny, you told me if I ever needed you, I could go to the lake and you would hear my call. Well, I need you now, Johnny. Please wake up!”

 

My hand healed over almost instantly, and I pierced it again, letting a few more drops hit the surface of the water before the wound disappeared. “Johnny, please. . . .” I whispered.

 

I waited a full five minutes, not quite sure how this was supposed to work, but Johnny didn't appear. I couldn't wait any longer—I had no idea what was happening at my house. I had to try to stop it if I could. I scrambled up and started back up the driveway towards the dirt road. My timing was rotten. Paul's car screeched to a halt and Paul jumped out, grabbing my arm.

 

“What are you doing, Crystal?” he shouted. “Get in the car.”

 

Since he and I were probably going to the same place, I complied.

 

“Why did you run, Crystal?” Paul asked, putting the car in gear and reversing on the narrow dirt road. “You didn't even give me a chance to explain.”

 

“Explain what?” I answered sullenly. “Why there's a car seat in the back seat? Why you were carrying a suitcase out of my house? Where are my brothers, Paul?”

 

“You don't understand,” he said. “I tried to tell you. Your brothers are special. They need to learn what they are. It would have been different if you and I had hit it off right away. We could have waited until we had children of our own, or better yet, your parents might have consented to let your brothers live with us once we explained why it's important they grow up in a family who understands their full potential.”

 

“What are you talking about? What are you going to do?”

 

“You can still change your mind. It's not too late. Your brothers will feel more comfortable if you come with them. I saw how you are with them—in time, they would come to think of you as their mother, and me as their father. We could raise them together, Crystal. I do like you. I know in time you will come to care for me. We can still make this work! There is so much I have to tell you.”

 

“Paul, you can't just take them! That's kidnapping!”

 

Paul pulled into our driveway and laid one hand on my arm. I had been about to open the door and bolt for the house. “Wait,” he said. “Our family is not like any other. Normal rules don't apply to us. If I thought we could get you back on an aeroplane without you putting up a fuss, I would do it. This is that important to our future as a family.” He let go of my arm and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I wish you would reconsider and come with us of your own free will.”

 

I glared at him, and wrenched open my car door. I ran for the house, with Paul following more slowly behind. He must be very sure of himself. Oh, Johnny, where are you?

 

“Mom!” I yelled again, running for the kitchen. It was empty.

 

I ran into the living room where Michael was attempting to persuade a teary-eyed Kevin to put on his shoes. Paul came in behind me. “It's all right, Kevin,” he said soothingly, kneeling down to wipe the little boy's face with his sleeve. “See? Crystal's here now.”

 

Michael glanced sharply at his brother, then more speculatively at me.

 

“I want Mommy!” Kevin said, starting to cry as soon as he saw me. I saw Michael's lips tighten.

 

Paul took a step towards the stairs. “I'll go get Ian,” he said. “Crystal's not coming. You'd better put her with Lisa.”

 

“Where is my mother?” I asked. “Where's Ian?”

 

Paul didn't answer, but he headed upstairs. I started to follow him, when Michael stepped in front of me. “You're going in with your mother,” he said gruffly, and Kevin started to cry again. “It won't be for long—just until we're far enough away for it not to matter.” He eyed me warily. “I suppose Paul told you all about our plans?”

 

“You're kidnapping my little brothers,” I answered hotly. “How do you possibly think you'll get away with it? We know where you live!”

 

Michael smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. “Nine years ago there was a murder in Lockwood—a young man was killed. And we have evidence that your stepfather was the murderer.”

 

A murder? Kenny didn't murder---the color drained from my face as I realized what Michael meant. Johnny. All those talks about the vampire and how Kenny had killed him. I suppose on tape, if you didn't know the circumstances of the conversation, it would sound like a murder confession. But Johnny wasn't dead!

 

Michael took me by the arm and marched me back towards the pantry off our kitchen. I could hear muffled banging from behind the locked door.

 

“Mommy!” wailed Kevin, running for the door while Michael was busy with me. Michael immediately let go of me and rushed after Kevin, and the pieces all fell into place exactly as they had in my vision. Michael grabbed Kevin, holding one hand loosely over his mouth to stifle his piercing cries, just as the living room window crashed inward and Johnny landed, in soaking wet jeans and nothing else, to crouch on the floor amid shards of broken glass, eyes burning black, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

 

“Johnny!” Kevin and I both cried at once.

 

From upstairs I heard a clatter of footsteps, then silence as Paul stood in the doorway, holding a sleepy-eyed Ian in his arms. “Donnie!” my little brother said when he spotted Johnny crouched menacingly in the center of the room. The look on Paul's face was priceless.

 

Neither of my brothers was afraid of Johnny, no matter what he looked like. They had grown up with him; he was their big brother and they loved him unconditionally. What absolutely floored me was Michael's reaction. Michael—the scary Scottish cousin! Very carefully, he let go of Kevin, who ran to stand next to me by the hallway door. With a look of awe on his face, he sank to his knees and raised his cupped hands. “We didn't know,” he whispered hoarsely, overcome by some emotion. “We didn't know. Please forgive us. Blood of my blood.” He said the last phrase in the old language.

 

Johnny's eyes never moved from Michael's face; his stance never changed, but he said quietly to Kevin, “Go get your mother.”

 

Kevin obediently ran back down the hallway to unlock the pantry door.

 

My mother came back, carrying Kevin in her arms. She had been crying, too. “Oh, Johnny, thank God,” she murmured when she saw him. She hurried through the glass-strewn room and reached for Ian, too. Paul let her take him, and she staggered a little under the weight of both children. Paul slowly walked over to stand by his brother Michael, looking stunned. He made no move to kneel as his brother had.

 

“Lisa, leave and take the boys with you,” Johnny said in a low voice, his concentration all on the Scottish brothers. “Shut the door after you.”

 

My mother spared one worried glance for me, before she slipped through the door, closing it firmly behind her. We waited until her footsteps receded on the stairs.

 

Paul closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he seemed resigned. “You must think I'm a fool,” he said softly to me. “I'm so sorry. I never would have—“

 

Johnny let out a low growl and Paul dropped to his knees, offering up his cupped palms like his brother had done. “Blood of my blood,” he said. “Although I understand if you refuse us. You have the right to kill us for this.”

 

Johnny laughed harshly. “Kill? You touched what is mine! You threatened what is mine! I will enjoy killing you. Blood of my enemies.” Johnny finished the ritual phrase that gave him the right to kill.

 

I laid a hand on his arm. “Think a minute, Johnny. Aren't they offering their blood to you?”

 

“And I'm going to take it,” Johnny said implacably.

 

“No, I mean, if you accept their offering, they won't go against you. They won't take Kevin and Ian and they will have to tell you all the things they have been hiding from us.”

 

Michael and Paul both turned to me, but it was Michael who spoke. “If we had known what he is, we would never have attempted to take your brothers.” He eyed me, as I stood with one hand resting casually on Johnny's arm. “If we had realized you belonged to him, we never would have tried to take you, either.”

 

Johnny rose from his crouch and pulled me closer. “You understand nothing,” he spat derisively. “Very well, I accept your offering. You first.” He pointed at Michael.

 

Michael nodded, and repeated the words, `blood of my blood.' He lifted his hands above his heart, but Johnny ignored them. In a lightning move, he went for Michael's throat and tore it savagely. Michael didn't even have time to scream. Paul looked on in horror at what he was sure was his brother's death, but I knew better. Johnny fed, then he motioned me over, and I drank. Their blood was heavenly; it was family.

 

We left Michael where he lay sprawled among the glass shards. He was breathing shallowly, and his neck was a bloody mess. Johnny hadn't chosen to heal the wounds. Michael would have a scar to remind him all his days not to cross a vampire.

 

“You next.” Johnny motioned for Paul, whose eyes were so wide I could see the whites all the way around. Johnny had purposely left Paul for last.

 

“Blood of my blood,” Paul said bravely, and he looked at both of us when he said it. He finally got it.

 

Johnny ripped his throat, and let me drink first, which is probably why Paul didn't pass out right away. I had wanted to taste Paul's blood from the first time I'd met him. When I had taken as much as I felt necessary, I smiled in satisfaction. I locked eyes with Paul. “Mine,” I said softly in our secret language. I think hearing me speak it freaked Paul out even more than my drinking his blood. His eyes rolled back in his head, as I moved back to let Johnny drink.

 

Johnny took more than was strictly necessary, but by that time, Paul was beyond caring. We left him on the living room floor, lying next to his brother, and went to call Uncle Robert and Kenny.