Previously: Deidre is taken to a villa in Cabo San Lucas. Tomas tells him that Thankful is not alive and carrying the soul of his mother who was La Dama Falsa.
"Really?" he smirks. "Because I need your blood," he pulls out a needle from his back pocket. "very interesting."
My brain is telling me to get away. That's exactly what I do. I huddle against the nearest wall. "You're a vampire, right?"
"Mixed..." I don't know if my father was a vamp or not. I don't know who Ranaan was. She is my mother but that's all I got. Aleigha isn't here, I'm trapped.
"I need your blood...," he steps closer. "Just a prick. You're a vampire, you should be used to it."
Vampires bite people. People don't bite vampires. That makes as much sense as a person that's poisoned by a King Cobra to bite the king. "Vampire blood sells high, especially in Virginia. Teaspoons sell by the penny. It's worthless. A tablespoon, that's in dimes. 1 cup of vampire blood, they'll give you about 20 per cup. 40 by the pint, and a thousand for a liter."
"The fuck you talking about!" The black market is known for selling whatever can make money. In desperate times, a family might go to the market for a kidney. "You can't sell a vampire on the black market. That's nonsense." I hate how my voice starts to stammer.
"The blood market is different. Everybody gotta make money somehow. Now, it's time to take your medicine." He presses down on the syringe; a clear liquid shoots out. Tomas plunges after me, I roll along the wall and kick him in the ribs. He falters, I rush to the door, get it open, and hurry downstairs. At the bottom is a beautiful sight, Thankful is by the door looking bewildered.
Please don't stop me.
"Quickly!" she wrung her hand rushing me. I drop down the middle of the stairs, Thankful yanks the door open. My feet are flying to the exit with my heart ready to escape me. I hear the door shut, Thankful bolts in front of me. "You can't fly?"
Fly? "No!" Vampires can fly? I mean, it begs the question, did Dracula have wings? I never read the book. "Half ass autobiography," she screams. "Fanya." Thankful's back sprouts a pair of misshaped black wings. She glides to the car and the passenger door flies open. I'm tumbling down the slope and pick up a crackling hiss.
"Don't look over your shoulder." She's beating the seat in a panic. My feet finally touch down on the concrete, I slide in damn near breaking my foot getting in the truck. "Et na" The door swings shut. Thankful takes the back of my head and pushes it down. She does the same as a shot hit the window breaking it. "Kama biwa."
A wave disordering my vision passes. She doesn't have her hands on the wheel. "Get back here!" Tomas shouts. The car pulls off, aiming for the gate.
Don't be closed. Burning rubber, the vehicle jerks forward followed by clanking. I rise and look back; the gate is damaged. Thankful isn't driving, she's dripping sweat. "Thank you," I breathe. I glimpse at the speedometer; it's tilting between 80-90 miles per hour.
Thankful is sleep. I would pull the car over and take charge or let her stretch out in the back. At least we don't have a zombie controlling the vehicle. OH MY GOD—SEAMUS, what the fuck happened—where is Seamus!
What would he do in a time like this? Nothing. He can't survive like this!
Looking out the glass, it's barren land from here.
My mind rethinks the event. He wanted my blood. Yet Again, I'm recapping everything. I have a vampire brother, who likes eating other vampires. He's trying to carry out our mother's will. I'm a runaway child.
He ate me, bit chunks out of me. It clicks in my head; I have a new phone. I lift a bit to feel under my pants, I check the glove compartment. It's right in plain sight. "Signal," I turn on the phone and immediately it hits me with a passcode. "What!"
What kind of bullshit—Sprint has never sold a pre-locked phone. Then again, Aleigha stole this bitch.
The small message in the center reads: Why?
"I don't fucking know!" I press 0000, the message changes. Prove to me, I'm grimacing, prove what? It changes again, can you fight? For your right? Deidre?
Is there a spirit in the phone? "Yes...?" the phone beeps. "Conas atá tú" it echos. What kind of language is that? "Not sure how but I'm here. Thanks for leaving me on the street, dick!"
"What the fuck!"
"It's me! Seamus!"
I'm about to faint, my body flushes my head leaning against the headrest. "Seamus? From Sprint?" my breathing is jagged. "Yep! Dude, my fucking life is so fucked up right now..."
"You're irish?"
"Mum's American, I moved here in 2001 or something. Death is wild! I had no idea what the hell happened back at the store. You guys came in afterhours, I'm about to leave. Did you rob us?"
Please don't tell me, this nigga talks... every... goddamn second. "Uh..."
His accent is a bit weak, brittle. It could because he's talking through a phone. "How did you get in the phone?"
"I guess I got reincarnated?" if the world allowed such a thing to happen, we wouldn't spend money on psychics. "I guess."
"Dude, I saw everything. It-It was like a bubble television. I called you... maybe you didn't hear me?"
My phone called me? "By the way, you asked me some really strange ass questions. Do you talk to yourself a lot? That's not healthy."
"Huh," I haven't gotten a word in, I'm sitting here with my mouth open. "Seamus, slow down. Where are you?"
"I'm dead!"
"But how?" I've heard of soul-sucking but this is insane. "You was that black guy with the pink eyes?"
"My brother..."
"He's a dick! So, anyway, I'm dead. My name is Seamus ó Néill."
"I'm Deidre." We really making introductions. "Nice to meet you. Fucking thief."
Imma ignore that. "What happened to you? At the store. I heard my brother cast a spell."
"oh... yeah. I was doing my business and we were closing but you two assholes came in and sucked the life out of me. If you're asking about the experience, it's pretty fuckin' shitty."
I bite the corner of my lip holding back a laugh. "Anything else."
"I think I'm in purgatory. Maybe hell."
"Why hell specifically?"
"I don't know how to stop masturbating? I'm a chronic jackoffateer."
"Understandable."
"Back to the story, it felt like my soul was pushed. I could see me, standing behind myself and I saw you looking kinda like a bitch."
My brow arches. I'm going to put him back in the glovebox and be done. He continues, "It was only for a few minutes. Then a hole opened and this guy comes through it. A light golden brown skinned man. Real tall too. How tall are you?"
"6'4"
"Something about not having ankles."
I don't have ankles. "Go on."
"Yeah, you don't have ankles and the bushy haired guy said, huh, you're really 6'6?"
"I guess."
"Ankles are so fucking important. AS WELL AS FUCKING BODIES. WHY THE FUCK AM I A PHONE?"