Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Crystal ❯ Chapter 12

Crystal, Chapter 12:

 

 

Kenny surveyed the wrecked living room where his two shaky cousins sat side by side on the couch, looking sick and holding cold compresses to their necks.

 

He whistled appreciatively. “You guys had it easy,” he commented, coming closer to inspect their wounds. He glanced over his shoulder at Johnny, who slouched in the hallway entrance, hands in the pockets of fresh jeans. “Johnny, you're slipping.”

 

Johnny shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “Blame Crystal,” he said.

 

Uncle Robert, in the meantime, knelt by his sons' feet with a bucket of water. Every few minutes, he wrung out a cloth and passed it to one of his sons and exchanged it for the one Michael or Paul had been holding. The water in the bucket was pink.

 

The bleeding had stopped quite a while ago, but the wounds on their throats still looked impressive.

 

“They're lucky to be alive,” my mother said fiercely. She made no attempt to help Uncle Robert take care of his sons. Kevin was finally calmed down, and he and Ian were upstairs watching TV on her bed. She included Johnny in her fierce glare. If it had been up to my mother, the Scottish cousins would both be dead.

 

Paul looked up wearily. “What do you mean?” he questioned Kenny.

 

For answer, Kenny pulled his shirt up, baring his arms and chest. Scars criss-crossed his body. “It gets worse on my legs,” he said, glancing at Johnny, who smiled, letting his fangs show. “Like I said, you two got off easy.”

 

Michael and Paul stared with horrified eyes at Johnny, who stared evenly back at them from his vantage point in the hallway, away from the worst of the sun. The blood he had taken from the Scottish brothers had worked wonders on his burnt skin, and even the faint light which still managed to reach him didn't seem to bother him. Their blood was that powerful.

 

I sat curled up in the armchair, clean and showered and calm. Now that my vision had come to pass, I could relax. Nobody was dead, and everything was finally out in the open--I stole a quick glance at my vampire lover in the shadows—figuratively speaking. I had called Kenny at work, and he called Uncle Robert, who had made it here from Boston in record time. We used the time in between to get changed and reassure my mother, although Johnny wouldn't let her go back into the living room until after Kenny arrived. We left Paul and Michael lying amid the shattered glass from the broken window until they woke up, groggy and sore, and very, very frightened.

 

Kenny tskd some more and brushed past Johnny in the hallway to get the broom and dustpan out of the kitchen. I unfolded my legs and followed him. If my mother wasn't going to offer the Scottish boys some orange juice, then I supposed I ought to do it. I poured two tall glasses and brought them out. The boys looked at them as if they were poisoned.

 

“Go on, drink,” I urged them. “What do you drink in Scotland to replenish your blood? Here, we use orange juice.”

 

I might have been speaking Martian considering the way they goggled at me.

 

In the meantime, Kenny swept up all the glass into one pile, then went out to the shed and got a piece of plywood to board up the window. Uncle Robert gave him a hand, as Johnny still wasn't moving from his spot in the windowless hallway.

 

Finally, when the window was sufficiently boarded, and the drapes were tightly drawn against whatever light might still seep through, Johnny stepped back into the living room and took his usual seat in the armchair I had recently vacated. I sat by his feet and rested my head against his knees.

 

“Better?” Johnny asked lightly, although his eyes remained hard.

 

Michael struggled to stand, shrugging off his father's hand when Uncle Robert went to help him. He went from unsteady feet to his knees, as he had before Johnny accepted his offering earlier. This time, Paul joined him. Both Scottish brothers knelt in front of Johnny and lifted their cupped hands again. Uncle Robert knew better. He stood quietly next to Kenny and my Mom.

 

Johnny frowned. “Sit down before you fall down,” he said curtly. “You offered, and I already accepted. We're done.”

 

“What are you?” Paul whispered. He sat back on the couch, followed after a moment by his brother.

 

“You know,” Johnny replied.

 

Michael shook his head. “I'm not sure we do,” he said slowly. “You are not what we expected.” He glanced at me. “She's not, either. What is she? She can't be a vampire, and yet she drank our blood.” He shuddered, and my mother gave me a sharp look.

 

Johnny smiled maliciously. “She is mine.”

 

I kissed him, causing both Scottish brothers to blanch. What? Nobody kissed vampires in Scotland? How sad.

 

Uncle Robert came to sit next to Paul. “He's not what your great-grandfather taught me to expect, either,” he said quietly. “Johnny is—an enigma.” He glanced at Johnny when he spoke. Johnny's eyes were burning black into him. “He doesn't abide by the old rituals. If he says he has accepted your offering, then he has. You can count on it. Don't insult him by offering your blood again.” It was a warning, disguised as fatherly advice.

 

“No,” Johnny said softly. “I remember how it used to be. I never liked it, back then. Why would I like it now? People fawning all over me, like I was something—“ His voice cut off abruptly, and he looked away. “Maybe I should have just killed you. You wouldn't be the first with family blood that I've killed. I really don't want any more of you . . . . but it's done. You belong to me now, and to Crystal. Let's just leave it at that, all right?”

 

“But according to the ancient agreement, you cannot harm any of the family, whether or not they have made the blood offering to you.” Michael sounded mystified by Johnny's seemingly callous admission. He didn't know Johnny's history.

 

Johnny fixed him with a cold glare. “There is no pact; it was destroyed when the family rose up against us. The only obligations I have are the ones I choose to accept.” His eyes roved around the room. “New rules. My rules.”

 

Kenny started pacing. It helped him think things through. “You mean in the old days the vampire that was associated with your village couldn't touch you—any of you?”

 

The two brothers exchanged glances. “Those of us with family blood, yes,” Michael affirmed. “In return, we protected his secret and gave him a safe place to rest.”

 

Johnny snorted derisively.

 

“And offered blood when we could.”

 

“Not your own blood, though,” Kenny said.

 

“Not ours—blood of our enemies.” The words flowed musically from Michael's lips. Even my mother knew what they meant by now.

 

“Until there were no more enemies,” Johnny said. “Then you got rid of us.”

 

“Not all,” Michael said softly, and Johnny's head shot up. He was across the room before any of us could take a breath.

 

“Tell me,” Johnny whispered. “What happened to the rest?”

 

For the space of perhaps ten heartbeats it was silent. Then Michael sighed. “There are stories,” he admitted. “Passed down from generation to generation.”

 

More than stories, I thought. I felt the sudden urge to draw, so I silently slipped out of the room and went upstairs, peeking in on Kevin and Ian as long as I was up there. Kevin was fast asleep, sprawled on Mom and Kenny's bed with the TV blaring cartoons a few feet away. Ian sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, his eyes glued to the bright moving shapes. He blinked when I popped my head in the door.

 

“Donnie?” he asked, looking past me.

 

“He'll be up to see you later,” I promised, shutting the door gently.

 

I pulled out my sketchpad from the little drawer next to my bed and hurried back downstairs. Johnny still hovered over Michael, so I took back the armchair and curled my feet up underneath me. It was going to be a long night.

 

Kenny had his hands on Johnny's shoulders, trying to pull him back a little bit. Paul had that same, slightly horrified expression on his face from earlier. I wasn't sure if it was because Johnny was threatening his brother yet again, or because Kenny had presumed to put his hands on the vampire.

 

“Stop! Please stop!” Paul spoke at last. “You don't understand! We didn't know about you.” His eyes flicked to my face and quickly away. “None of you. But we can't tell you things that are not ours to tell. We have promises that are older than the ones we made tonight. You may no longer be bound by the old ways, but we still are.”

 

Johnny stepped back. “Just answer this one question: are there others like me in Scotland?”

 

Michael shook his head. “We cannot say.”

 

Kenny moved in front of Johnny before Johnny did something rash. We protected our own, and Johnny belonged to us. I guess it was the same for the Scottish brothers. I scribbled, quick, short lines, on my sketchpad.

 

“Give the kid a break,” Kenny said gruffly, earning him another shocked stare from Paul. “He's trying to find out about his past.”

 

“Kenny.” Johnny spoke quietly, but there was a warning behind it. Kenny turned around. “Don't.”

 

Johnny didn't want the Scottish brothers to know he had lost many of his memories of his past life in Scotland. He still hadn't granted them his trust. Kenny nodded, and moved to the side. It didn't look like Johnny was about to kill anyone just yet.

 

Paul frowned, darting glances back and forth between Kenny and Johnny. “Who are you?” he asked Johnny. “Really.”

 

He meant before Johnny was Jonathan Price. I knew; I don't think even Kenny or my Mom knew Johnny was once known as Eoin, in the far-away village where he had been born. It was more than coincidence that Johnny ended up on the same ship as Kenny's ancestors. I watched the realization dawn on Paul's face.

 

Uncle Robert chuckled softly. “You see the resemblance, don't you? I guessed it right away when I first saw him. All I had to do—all you have to do—is look in a mirror.” The old bitterness crept back into his voice, the bitterness he had felt from being shut out of his wife's family secrets because he didn't belong. “He is our vampire.”

 

“And he is theirs.” I held up my sketchpad. “Isn't that right, Paul? Michael?”

 

I had drawn a slim young man standing next to an old-fashioned looking car, but a car nevertheless. His intense dark eyes reminded me of Johnny, but it was not Johnny.”

 

Paul caught his breath, and Michael's eyes widened. “How?” He asked, stunned.

 

“Do you know him?” I pressed.

 

Both Scottish brothers shook their heads. Liars.

 

Johnny took the sketchpad from my hands. He studied the picture I had drawn with a faint frown, before turning to address the two Scottish brothers. “I don't care what prior loyalties you may have,” he said. “You are not to say anything to anyone about what happened here today—not unless I tell you so. Not to your family in Scotland, not to him.” He waved away their protest that they had no idea who the man in my picture was. “If you do, I will kill you, blood offering or no blood offering.”

 

It was a good place to end our conversation. Uncle Robert helped his sons to their feet. “I'll take them home so they can sleep,” he said. “Do you want me to send them back to Scotland?”

 

“Yes,” Johnny said, surprising me. Wouldn't they just tell their family and their resident vampire, whom they still insisted did not exist, the minute they got home? Even Paul and Michael were surprised. They turned at the front door and regarded Johnny apprehensively. Johnny smiled and it wasn't a friendly smile. “Get me one of those travel documents like you had made for Kevin and Ian, and then we can all go to Scotland together.”

 

Michael considered the problem, then replied, “It will take some time, a few weeks. Can you travel that far?”

 

“I don't know. We'll find out, won't we?” Johnny said in dismissal.

 

I caught Johnny's arm as he walked by. “What about me?” I asked. As much as I wanted Johnny to find closure with his distant past, I couldn't bear the thought of his leaving me behind.

 

“What about you? You already have a passport, don't you?” He grinned at me and pulled me down the hallway with him. He was right. Before Kevin was born, we had planned to take a trip to Scotland on our own, and my parents had gotten me a passport. But then Ian came along, and we never did end up going. My first passport had expired last year, and Mom had renewed it for another five years, so I knew it was active. I don't know what Johnny had planned to use back then, but he had his sources.

 

Mom met us in the living room. “Johnny, thank you,” she said softly, coming to give him a big hug. Her eyes sparkled with tears.

 

Before she had a chance to say anything else, Kenny came back. “Glad that's over,” he said, noting the somber mood. “I'm starving. What's for supper?”

 

“I'm not hungry,” I said immediately, and Johnny laughed. I slapped his arm. That blood must have been really powerful, because Johnny still looked rosy-cheeked and content. I probably did, too. “Come on, Johnny, I told Ian you'd be up to see him.”

 

“All right.” Johnny followed me upstairs while Kenny followed my mother into the kitchen.

 

Later, we sat on the front porch in the dark. The house around us had grown quiet. My brothers were finally both asleep, and I could hear the downstairs TV droning in the background. “Are you going to sleep under the water tonight?” I asked, leaning against Johnny's shoulder.

 

He shook his head. “Not tonight.”

 

He still didn't trust the Scottish cousins. I didn't blame him. “Stay with me,” I said, and he nodded. “Johnny?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You recognized the person in my drawing, didn't you?”

 

“Yes.” Johnny closed his eyes. “That's one reason I need to go to Scotland. I need to find him.”

 

“What's the other reason?”

 

“You. He'll know what I need to do.” Johnny pulled me close. “I won't lose you, Crystal.”

 

We paused at the entrance to the living room on our way upstairs to say good-night to my parents. My mother watched as Johnny took my hand and walked with me to my bedroom. She didn't say a word.