Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Vampire Summer ❯ Johnny Returns ( Chapter 21 )

 

 

Johnny's eyes bored into me and he dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. He looked awful, thin, dressed in the remnants of the clothes he had been wearing when we threw his body into the lake.

 

“Johnny!” I cried again, torn between relief that he was alive, and horror that he had just attacked Kenny. Relief won out, and my lips curved upwards of their own accord.

 

“You're next,” he spoke ominously, his voice rough with disuse. I opened my mouth to protest. Didn't he know how I had mourned for him? I never got the chance to tell him.

 

“Johnny.” The voice came from the kitchen. Johnny whirled around, as quick as I remembered. Crystal stood there, backlit by the bathroom light. Her voice was steady, warm.

 

“Crystal.” A little of the natural brown seeped back into Johnny's eyes, and he forgot I was there, having eyes only for my daughter. I stood, forgotten, next to Kenny's still form.

 

Quickly I knelt down beside him and felt for a pulse.

 

“He's not dead,” Johnny said, not even bothering to turn around to see what I was doing. “But that can be fixed. Leave him be. Come here.”

 

I knew that tone, and I knew there was no arguing with it. Johnny sat with Crystal in the middle of the kitchen floor. She ran her hands gently over his face, as if to see for herself that he really was there. I sank down next to them. “You look like hell,” I said, ignoring Crystal's `ooh' because I said a bad word. He did look like hell. “I can't believe you're alive,” I added when he didn't say anything.

 

“You saved me,” he said grudgingly. “Crystal saved me. If you hadn't put me in the water, I would have died.”

 

And here I thought we had sealed his fate by dumping him in the lake.

 

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

 

“Crystal—“ I began, when he interrupted me.

 

“I know why she did it,” Johnny said impatiently. “Why did you do it?”

 

Finally all my pent-up fears and sorrows bubbled up from inside of me. “I thought you were dead!” I screamed at Johnny, as tears ran down my face. “I didn't know,” I continued. “I didn't want you to be gone.” There, I'd said it.

 

Johnny looked surprised at my vehemence, or maybe it was my admission, in not so many words, that I cared. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “You got something for me to wear?” he asked, casting an appraising glance back towards the living room where Kenny lay unmoving on the floor. “I didn't have time to go clothes hunting.”

 

“What happened to you?” I asked instead. “How are you still alive? Were you under the water all this time?”

 

“Later,” was all he said, with that dangerous glint in his eyes. He helped Crystal stand up. “Go back to bed. I'll be here when you wake up.” He tucked her in and stayed with her until she fell asleep again with a contented smile on her face.

 

I trailed after Johnny as he walked towards Kenny's still form. “Don't kill him,” I pleaded, and Johnny's eyes hardened. He had walked in on us kissing, more than kissing, so he knew Kenny meant something special to me. “You can make him forget, can't you?” I asked, thinking of my father.

 

“Oh, I can make him forget—permanently,” Johnny replied darkly. “You have no idea, do you? He did this to me!” Johnny swept his hands over his bared torso, which I just now noticed was still covered with black-looking welts, the remnants of knife-wounds which had healed shut but not disappeared completely. He was so covered in dirt from the muddy lake bottom that I hadn't noticed until now.

 

I sat down abruptly on the floor next to Kenny, the breath knocked out of me. Kenny had tried to kill Johnny? Not Betty? He didn't even know Johnny! “How can that be?” I murmured, putting my hands to my head to stop the massive headache that threatened to erupt at any minute.

 

“You want to know?” Johnny roughly pulled me up by my arm until I was nose to nose with him. His eyes were very dark, and his face was pale, much paler than usual. I couldn't help thinking that at least his time in the water had taken care of his severe sunburn. “He's one of them! And I never knew they still existed.” Johnny dropped my arm and stepped back. “I'm tired,” he said more quietly. “If you don't want me to kill him, or you, I have to go. I'll be back before daylight. Get rid of him.”

 

“How?” I asked. I knew from experience that when Johnny drained someone of blood, they were down for the count.

 

“Your problem,” Johnny said shortly. “If you want to keep him alive, get him out of here before I get back, or I'll kill him. And Lisa,” Johnny eyed me distrustfully, “he can't know I survived or you will follow him in death.” I didn't doubt Johnny meant every word.

 

I filled a pan with cold water and soaked a washcloth in it. First I scrubbed the faint remnants of blood off Kenny's neck. There wasn't much. It just looked like he had gotten a rash there. But I knew Johnny had taken a lot of blood; I had seen the evidence on Johnny's mouth and hand. I applied colorless calamine lotion and hoped the rash would fade by the time Kenny woke up.

 

How was I going to convince him to go home after I had invited him to stay the night with me? I would have to pretend to be offended at his behavior and kick him out. It really wasn't that much of a stretch. I had really liked Kenny, and now to find out that he had been responsible for attacking Johnny made me see him in an entirely different light. Had he known about me the whole time? About Crystal and the blood? Did he ever even like me at all? It wouldn't be so hard to pretend.

 

I sprinkled wine over his clothes and splashed a little on his face. I took a quick swig myself. I needed it, and it was a shame to waste the whole bottle. I poured some into two wine glasses and swirled it around then very carefully poured a little into Kenny's slack mouth. I held up his head gently so he wouldn't choke, and he reflexively swallowed. When he woke up, he would be so woozy and disoriented, he would automatically assume he was drunk. I knew the feeling very well. I got rid of the rest of the wine in the bottle by pouring it down the kitchen sink.

 

Then I dragged Kenny's unresisting body to the first bedroom and somehow managed to get Kenny undressed and under the covers. I stepped back to look. Damn. Things could have been so different. Time to get this finished.

 

“Kenny! Kenny!” I shook him and slapped his cheeks until he blearily opened his eyes and groaned. “I think you should go home,” I said.

 

“What?” He tried to sit up, fell back on the pillows and noticed that he was naked—and I was not. “What happened? Why?”

 

“You tried to—tried to—“ I couldn't help the tears that filled my eyes. A few hours ago I had been hoping he would try to do what I was accusing him of, and now . . . now everything had changed. I didn't know Kenny at all. “I just want you to go home. Please leave.”

 

“Lisa.” Kenny got off the bed, wrapped in a sheet, still wobbling a little. He must have smelled the liquor on himself, because his eyes widened in understanding. “I'm sorry if I did anything inappropriate. I never meant to hurt you.”

 

Didn't he? I wanted to believe him, even now. I steeled my voice. “I thought you really cared about me, Kenny. How could you do this?” He thought I was talking about tonight, but I meant all of it—his attempt to kill Johnny, his coming into my life for who knows what purpose, and the future which he'd dangled in front of me which was now snatched away.

 

He tried to give me a hug, but I twisted away from him, grabbing his pants and throwing them at him as I did so. “Please, go,” I repeated.

 

“I didn't--?” He asked hesitantly, as he shrugged into his clothes while I turned my back to give him privacy.

 

I drove the nail in. “You mean you don't remember?” I said viciously. “Get out. Just go.”

 

He went, looking hurt and confused. “I'll call you later. We'll talk,” he promised. “I'm really sorry, Lisa.” I slammed the door after him for effect, then leaned against it, my heart aching. I hoped he got home safely. He hadn't been too steady on his feet, and although I knew he really wasn't drunk, I could tell his reaction time was way off.

 

I went back to the couch and huddled there with my knees drawn up to my chest. I was glad Crystal had been able to fall back asleep. I knew I wouldn't sleep anymore tonight. Crystal hadn't been surprised to see Johnny. In retrospect, I remembered her telling me not to worry, that it would be all right, after we had thrown Johnny's body into the lake. I just thought she was trying to make me feel better, but she must have known the water would help him to recover. I still didn't know how that was possible, but I couldn't deny the connection between Crystal and Johnny.

 

The phone rang once about a half-hour after Kenny had left. I didn't answer it. No one else would be calling me so late at night. It meant he had made it home. Good. I missed him already—not him, but the Kenny I thought he had been, the one I could have fallen in love with.

 

Johnny came back some time towards morning. It was still dark out when he suddenly appeared beside me on the couch in his usual spot. I jumped. I must have fallen asleep for a minute with my head on my knees. He was dressed in clean clothes, the usual teenage uniform—jeans, t-shirt, sneakers. I wondered where he had gotten them, and what he had done with the bodies. `Hunting for clothes,' he had said earlier. Now I got it.

 

He also looked—better. Less hungry. “Did you kill the kid who used to own those clothes?” I asked.

 

Johnny grinned. “No, I took them out of his drawer,” he answered, “and left him sleeping like a baby. Him and his whole family.” He grinned wider, showing the tips of his long teeth.

 

I was glad, really glad, that Johnny was alive, seemingly unscathed, and that he hadn't killed that poor family. I stretched out my legs and leaned back on the couch. “Kenny's gone,” I said. “I sent him home. Now will you tell me what happened to you?”

 

“Your boyfriend tried to kill me,” Johnny said. “He thought he did kill me, or I wouldn't be here talking to you right now. I should kill him, and you, and disappear, if I want to protect myself—but I can't leave now.”

 

Crystal, I thought to myself. He couldn't leave because of Crystal. He had no compunction about killing me to keep his secret safe, but in that case, why had he spared Kenny? “I don't understand about Kenny,” I said. “Does he have the blood too? How did he even know about you?”

 

Johnny laughed unpleasantly. “He has the blood. His line is steeped in it. I didn't know his line still existed, until I saw the picture. They have been my scourge ever since I came here.”

 

The pictures! I remembered the envelope I had stolen from Betty's attic. “Wait here!” I said, scrambling to my feet. I dug through my purse and pulled out the white envelope. “Were these the pictures you were looking at that night?” I asked.

 

Johnny took them and glanced at them briefly. “Where did you get these?” he asked, not answering my last question.

 

“Betty's house,” I said. “Are they the same ones?”

 

“Did she give you those?” Johnny asked sharply.

 

“No! I stole them out of her attic,” I told him. “I didn't know where she lived until after you disappeared, and when I saw how close her house was to where we found you, I put two and two together. I took a chance and went snooping around.”

 

Johnny looked at me incredulously. “You did that?” he asked, and I nodded.

 

“I thought Betty had done this to you,” I said. “I had no idea Kenny was involved.”

 

“They all were,” he said bitterly. “He dragged them into it, the ones with the blood. If he hadn't shown up, the others would never have suspected what I truly was. He did it, and now they all know about me.”

 

“But you said they think you're dead,” I said. “So you're safe, right?”

 

“I'm never safe,” Johnny replied. “But now I'm on my guard. I won't be caught again.”

 

“Do they know about me and Crystal?” I asked. Did Kenny know we had harbored a vampire? I didn't want to believe it, didn't want to think that was why he had gotten close to me.

 

“They know I targeted you,” Johnny said. “He told them what it meant, and the others made the decision to get rid of the threat.”

 

“What it meant?” I asked.

 

“That I was looking to make another one like me,” Johnny explained impatiently. “Only they didn't know it was Crystal—they thought it was you.”

 

Me? My face flushed in embarrassment.

 

“Lisa, they can't know I'm alive—none of them, the blood here or the hunter. I will kill them to protect myself.”

 

Why was Johnny telling me this? He could have just killed them all, and me too, and been done with it. “Hunter?”

 

“Your boyfriend,” Johnny said drily. He flipped one of the photos up so I could see it. It was the one of Amelia, Elizabeth and George, Kenny's grandfather. “One of the Rhode Island Smythe's.”