Destined for a Vampire (Blood Like Poison 2)

“You remember me telling you what can happen when a vampire drinks from a human, don’t you?”

“Yeah, they become sort of like zombies or something, right?”

“Well, that’s quite a theatrical exaggeration, but I think you get the gist of it, yes.”

“What about them?”

“We’ve got to find and kill them, lass, before they become a real problem.”

“Kill them? You have to kill them?”

“There’s no other choice. Once so much life is gone from them, they cease to be the person that they were. I thought I explained that they become vicious and mindless, hungry beyond control.”

“You did, but I didn’t realize that- that—”

I didn’t realize that there was no hope for them, that death was the only recourse.

I thought of how many times Bo had fed from me, and I wondered how long I had until I became…something else.

“So then what do we do?”

“Well, we first have to find them. For a while, they can blend into the general population fairly well. It’s as the madness progresses that they become easier to spot.”

“And what do you have to do when you find them? I mean, how do you,” I paused to swallow, nearly choking on the words. “Kill them?”

“It’s not as easy as one might think. The loss of life makes them harder, physically and emotionally. Their conscience recedes as their tissues degenerate.

Physically, they become hardened, almost petrified, like a fossil. Makes them very difficult to destroy.”

He didn’t really answer my question. “How do you kill them then?” I asked, hating to repeat myself.

“They must be decapitated and their heads obliterated.”

That was what he was trying to keep from me: the awful reality of how brutally their lives must end.

“So, what, use an ax or a knife to cut- cut—”

My stomach sloshed with the thought of taking someone’s head off using a knife, of sawing through their skin and sinew as they bled and struggled. Saliva rushed to my mouth.

“That would never work. Only older, more powerful vampires can do it, as their heads must be torn off. No blade would work, no weapon.”

Bile gurgled in my throat. Torn off? And I thought the knife thing was bad!

“Alright, can we please change the subject?”

“You asked. I was merely obliging—”

“I know I asked, but I- I didn’t know…”

We sat in silence for a few minutes while I struggled to rid my mind of the gruesome images of decapitation that I couldn’t seem to stop picturing.

When finally I spoke, I decided to go with a subject change.

“Lucius, are the legends and stories of vampires and the boy who can’t be killed recorded anywhere? Or are they just sort of handed down, generation to generation, like ghost stories?”

Lucius cocked his head to one side in thought.

“If I’m not mistaken, there is a book that supposedly details many of the myths surrounding the origin of the vampire. However, I wouldn’t know where to even begin a search for such a book.”

“Do you remember what it was called?”

He rubbed his chin as he thought.

“No. It is said to be written in an old language, one few alive would know how to read. If one is to believe in such a book, though, then one must believe in the letter of Iofiel as well.”

“What’s that?”

“Supposedly, after Iofiel was captured and returned to God, she overheard God’s plan to take her lover’s life and she wrote a letter to him, detailing the only way that he might take his son’s life, thereby sparing his own. Legend says that it took Iofiel hundreds of years to find out where her love was and get the letter delivered to him.”

“You’re saying that there is a way that Bo can be killed? I mean, assuming that Bo is the boy who can’t be killed.”

“So the story says.”

“Doesn’t that sort of—”

“I know it makes no sense, but I would imagine that, as with most things in life, where there’s a will there’s a way. Some sort of loophole maybe.”

“And where is this letter now?”

“I would assume that the fallen angel is in possession of it.”

“Has anyone ever found out what it says?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard. It’s my understanding that the letter wasn’t delivered so very long ago, only a few decades.”

“If that’s the case, then why haven’t they killed Bo?”

Lucius shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

I stood and walked to the fireplace, looking into the yellow-orange flames for answers, but finding none. I was more frustrated than I could ever remember being.

The book that was at Sebastian’s house could very well be the book that Lucius was referring to. But without the letter from Iofiel, it was no help to me whatsoever. It only told me their history, not what information I needed to secure our future. Of course, if I was the girl destined to help Bo, I might know a little something more about that, something divinely inspired.

“If Bo is that boy, will he ever be able to remember the things that he’s supposed to know about killing his father?”

“It’s hard to say. If his father has been feeding him blood to control his mind, alter his remembrance, all this time, it may have permanently affected his memory.”

“Then how—”

“The girl,” Lucius said simply.

I turned to look at him. His face was blank, an inscrutable mask. For a moment, I hated him for bringing her up, but, then again, I’d asked.

“So, in a way, she’s the key to it all.”

Lucius nodded curtly.

I was angry—inordinately and irrationally angry—giving me the sudden urge to put Lucius and his disturbing tales behind me, at least for the time being. There was no escaping them forever if I thought to help Bo and keep him in my life for a little while longer, but there was nothing I could do today. So I was walking away.

“Thanks for your help,” I said sharply, turning a tight smile on Lucius and heading for the door.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear,” Lucius began, but I cut him off.

“No, but I guess it’s what I need to hear, right?” I laughed bitterly and opened the door. “See you, Lucius.”

I stomped the entire way back to my car, giving myself a bone deep ache in my lower back by the time I was sitting behind the wheel.