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Geoffry knew he was dreaming, but that piece of knowledge faded into unimportance when faced by the power of his dreams.
The girl from the projects was back, dressed in dated clothes and smiling at him. No, that is the first girl, the one that I thought I was saving.
Geoffry tried to reach out to her, tried to go to her, but something was restraining him. The smile took on a teasing air that seemed to momentarily warm the room, but Geoffry's heart was beating so erratically in his chest that he somehow knew something terrible was about to happen.
A tall, dark figure materialized out of thin air and loom over the girl's shoulder. Unaware of the menacing presence behind her the girl continued on with some trivial task, while every mote in Geoffry's body cried out, begging her to run.
A black curtain suddenly rippled across the scene, leaving Geoffry alone. Not just alone, forsaken. Somehow Geoffry knew the girl was dead. The sense of complete loss that entailed seemed to rip something vibrant and living from his being, leaving him numb and hollow inside.
I should have died with her?
The dream abruptly continued, and Geoffry found himself staring at the girl he'd saved the night before. The smile which was bestowed on Geoffry was different than that of the first girl. There was too much of pain and sorrow in it for anyone to fancy it would light up a room, but it tugged at Geoffry's heart in ways that he hadn't anticipated.
How can someone who's seen so little good still be able to smile? How does she continue on day after day?
As Geoffry completed the thought, blood appeared out of nowhere to cover the girl's face, causing her to look down momentarily until she finally realized that it wasn't her own. The look of horror as the girl looked back up at Geoffry and then turned and ran away filled him with such a profound sense of loss that he tried to follow, only to look down and find that his bloody hands were shackled to the floor.
“Wake up, love, the night's a wasting.”
Slightly disoriented, Geoffry opened his eyes, half expecting to see the girl but instead finding Venice poised inches above his face so that her platinum hair walled them both off from the outside world.
Rusty reflexes that Geoffry didn't remember ever training kicked in, and his palm shot up towards Venice's throat only to be deftly blocked by her forearm as she dropped her slight weight down so that she was resting on him.
“Nice try sweetie, but you're still too slow to pull off something like that.”
Geoffry pushed Venice off and rolled out of bed. “How do you keep getting in here?”
“Still not using that brain huh?,” Venice rolled her eyes while fidgeting with her outfit, as if to remove some imaginary flaw introduced by being flung to the side. “If you stopped to think about it, there are any number of ways that I could get into your flat, but the truth of the matter is that you gave me a key before your unfortunate descent into amnesia.”
She's lying.
“That is a nice story, but that's all it is, how did you really get in?”
Venice narrowed her eyes slightly, and then flashed a dazzling smile as she stretched out on the bed in a way that allowed her brown halter top to show off her tight stomach.
“Now you're guessing. I've played enough games, card and otherwise, with you over the years to know when you're bluffing.”
Geoffry shook his head again. “You're the one that's bluffing. You don't really believe that. In fact, you...fear something related to my knowing how you got in.”
Venice smiled once again and then shrugged. “You're of course free to believe whatever you want, but we're wasting time. Why don't you join me back down here?”
Geoffry suddenly felt rage wash through him as he realized once again just how easily he was being manipulated.
Without thinking, the angered young man scooped up his katana from where it was resting on the floor. Before Venice could move, he whipped it out of it's sheath and down towards her where it came to a stop with the point resting against her ribs.
“I'm through with your stupid games, you can tell me what you're hiding, or you can die.”
Venice looked back at Geoffry unconcernedly from beneath dark lashes. “Why love, I do believe that I've finally managed to make you angry.”
Geoffry felt his hands start to tremble slightly as Venice laughed slightly. “But do you really have it in you to just kill me in cold blood? You keep telling me you're not really a killer, that you've somehow magically changed to a kinder, gentler Geoffry. Is this really how you want things to go down?”
Geoffry responded by putting slightly more weight on his weapon, pushing it ever so slightly into Venice's skin, only to find it suddenly stop as if it had run up against a steel plate.
Venice smiled once again as confusion flashed across Geoffry's face. “Nice trick huh?”
Geoffry pushed harder still, but the weapon remained motionless.
“Imastious is going to be so unhappy that you learned my little secret, but I can hardly be blamed for what happened. Even he expected you to go on whining about how you didn't want to kill anyone for another few weeks. Violence like this is quite unexpected.”
Geoffry tried to pull his katana back, but it moved only slightly before a frown of concentration appeared on Venice's face. Once again the weapon felt like it had been encased in concrete.
Venice's countenance once again returned to it's familiar relaxed state as she looked at Geoffry again. “I suppose I really should reward you for your progress, unexpected as it may be.”
Something tore the weapon from Geoffry's grasp, and then laid it carefully on a chair across the room. “You see, we all have our little powers. Mine happens to be a form of telekinesis.”
In response to Geoffry's blank look, Venice gently laughed. “Your noggin shut down again, love? I can move things with my mind.”
As Venice rubbed at the small spot of blood Geoffry's blade had left on her, Geoffry had a sudden epiphany. “Imastious can read minds, and...”
Venice smiled once again. “There you have it love, but you didn't learn that from me. Of course Imastious has some telekinetic and pyromancer abilities as well, but he is primarily a mentalist.”
Geoffry almost didn't hear what Venice had just said due to the maelstrom of thoughts flying around his mind.
I'm a mentalist too. It's the only thing that explains everything that's happened recently.
Geoffry looked up to see Venice watching him. “Oh I do love to see the gears turning away in that beautiful head of yours. In fact I can almost feel the rebelliousness radiating off of you. You're next thought will no doubt be how you could possibly use this information to break Imastious' hold over you.”
Rising from the bed, Venice walked over and ran her hands down Geoffry's arms. “Since I'm feeling so generous today, I'll give you some freebies. Imastious can read your mind. You'll eventually figure out that you're a mentalist, but he is at least several hundred years older than you. As a result, his powers are much greater than yours. So, even though you're a tough nut to crack, he'll do it on any occasion where he feels there's a need to do so.”
Geoffry shifted slightly, trying to maintain his distance from Venice as she edged ever closer. “Why are you helping me?”
“I told you, I'm feeling generous. That and I want us to be together like we used to be. I'm doing what's required to show you I'm trustworthy.”
Not entirely true, she's mostly just telling me things that I would have eventually figured out on my own. She isn't telling the whole truth either. In the church, I did more than just sense that those two were sad. I somehow cushioned them from their sorrow, just like the priest hinted.
“As strong as Imastious is, he can't just read your surface thoughts-at least not as you become more disciplined. That is part of the reason he tortured you the other night-it brought your mental defenses down to a point where he could penetrate them relatively easily.”
Venice once again stepped closer, and this time there wasn't any room left for Geoffry to back away. “This matters because as much effort as is involved in cracking into your mind, Imastious is only going to do so as long as he has reason not to trust you.”
Geoffry tried to ignore the warm breath that was caressing his neck. “Make the kill, toe the line, and you'll be able for the most part to keep your secrets.”
The thought of killing again disturbed Geoffry, more than he'd thought it would after having done so already more than once.
This would be cold blooded. No excuses, no hunger, no imperiled teenager.
With a mental effort that was so strong it almost pained him, Geoffry turned away from Venice and pointed to the door. “If what you are telling me is true, I need some time to think.”
Venice pouted as she stepped closer to Geoffry. The pout turned to a frown as he pushed her away. “You have my thanks, now continue to earn my trust by respecting my wishes and letting me be for now.”
Venice stood motionless for several seconds, and then shrugged and flashed him a smile that came very close to changing Geoffry's mind. “That's the most reasonable you've been in ages, love. I'll comply with your desires for now.”
**
Geoffry had been fortunate. Imastious hadn't chosen to visit him in the two days since he'd talked to Venice, but more and more he worried that he'd return home and find the old vampire there waiting for him.
If I haven't killed the mark by then, he'll invade my mind again, and learn about the girl. It is only a matter of time after that happens until Imastious kills her.
Geoffry had nearly come to peace with the idea, until he realized that Imastious wouldn't offer the girl a quick, clean death. No, he'll torture her. He'll leave her broken and bleeding. She'll beg for death for hours, maybe even days before he finally allows her to die.
Somehow even the thought of the dark path he'd find himself walking down after making his first kill for Imastious couldn't drown out the profound sense of loss Geoffry felt when he thought of the girl suffering as he'd suffered for so many hours.
I've seen her, seen the daily struggle she must wage to get by. Can one really argue that all lives are equally important? Can a life like hers really be said to be of no more value than that of a drug dealer?
Geoffry knew his logic was darkly seductive. A part of him knew his whirling, almost feverish mind wasn't thinking clearly, that the old priest would poke holes in his reasoning, but most of him didn't care.
I've already decided her life was more important than those three rapists that I cut down to save her. Even he couldn't argue that I chose wrongly there. If that's true, why wouldn't her life be more important than that of my target?
His mind still clouded with conflicting thoughts, Geoffry turned down a side street and tried to avoid looking anyone in the eyes.
I must not always have been the monster Venice describes. Why did I take that first step that led to becoming a remorseless assassin? Did I once walk down a crowded street just before sundown as I'm doing now, my mind full of the same justifications?
Is it possible to do what will be necessary to save her, and yet still not loose whatever guttering pieces of my soul still remain?
Am I really doing this to save her, or am I just trying to save myself from being tortured again?
Geoffry's feet, free from the interference of his conscious mind, had once again deposited him before the priest's church.
Why even bother going in? I already know he would disapprove of what I want to do. His counsel may make me feel somewhat better, but quickly the guilt will return. Then I'll realize that his advise offers nothing but pain in the short term and the slimmest glimmer of hope in the long term. Is it really worth it? If I'm destined to go through eternity suffering, at the very least I should be able to pick the pain on my own terms.
Still unsure why he was bothering, Geoffry tugged on the door handle only to find that it shifted only slightly. Why would it be locked now? He's been here even later than this both of the other times we spoke.
The tiny sign to the right of the door still declared that the church would be open for another hour, but Geoffry's knocks on the battered wood failed to bring the sound of footsteps he'd been hoping for.
After a few minutes of waiting, Geoffry realized that some of the people lounging in the fire escapes and doorways across the street were starting to watch him. Suddenly feeling as though his guilt was emblazoned on his forehead, the vampire turned and strode up the street at a faster pace than he used normally.
It wasn't until Geoffry had been walking for another half hour that he realized he was in the area where Imastious' target lived. I'm here, should I watch him again? Will knowing him better than I already do make things easier or harder?
Geoffry's heart rate went up as he tried to make the decision, but as he rounded a corner the decision was made for him.
That's him, I should have known he'd be standing on the corner.
A host of possible actions went through Geoffry's mind, paralyzing him as he once again felt that everyone looking at him could read his mind, that they knew what he was considering. Someone across the street exited a small store and it was like a spell was broken. The gentle click as the door swung closed freed Geoffry to walk over and enter the store.
From here I can watch him. As long as I look like I'm shopping he won't realize anything unusual is happening.
Slowly picking up a variety of fruit, Geoffry pretended to be squeezing the individual pieces to test for ripeness, all the while watching his target through the window.
Before Geoffry had picked up and discarded his fourth honeydew, a busty sixteen year old Armenian girl walked over to the target and handed him several bills. Geoffry couldn't see what the girl received in return, but the expert way that the hand off was performed left very little doubt in his mind but that he'd just witnessed his first drug sale.
The girl turned to leave, only to spin around and try to slap the drug dealer when he grabbed her. Geoffry's target ducked the blow and then laughed as the girl stalked off.
For a moment the vampire's rational side tried to assert itself, tried to stop his mind from replaying the assault again and again, but the scene refused to leave. By the third replay the Armenian girl had been replaced by the girl from his dreams. The fourth replay featured the girl Geoffry had saved, and a cold fury awoke inside the vampire with an intensity that would have scared him had he been entirely in control of himself.
The mounting pressure inside Geoffry's head suddenly found a release as his thoughts pushed free of the physical shell they normally resided in and reached out towards the drug dealer.
As the first tendrils made contact, they seemed to stab into the other man's thoughts of their own accord. The torrent of memories and thoughts that raged down the connection and assailed Geoffry's mind were no less vile for the fact that they were fragmented and brittle.
Teenagers he'd given their first dose for free living in a burnt-out shell of a building. Girls he'd taken everything from until they had only their bodies to offer in trade. Rivals gunned down from the shadows.
It was all that the vampire could do to maintain his sense of self against the depravity that tried to wash away his identity, he was somehow able to stay level-headed enough to push back, and even force a simple thought back through the link. Home. I need to go home.
The anger flooding through Geoffry was only barely leashed. The metal table holding the fruit he'd just dropped groaned in distress, and he absentmindedly let go of the tabletop, releasing it before the sheet metal bent completely away from the frame.
Geoffry's target flinch slightly as the vampire cut the connection. It was a piece of evidence his efforts might have worked, but the information barely registered against his efforts to steady his trembling legs. The fight to keep the fury raging through him from taking complete control took everything he had.
A few seconds later the target exchanged words with a couple of the other dealers and then turned and headed into his apartment building.
Geoffry took a deep breath, and walked out of the store, his anger pushing him to follow as soon as the drug dealer disappeared around the corner of the building.
Entering the building, with a casualness that felt forced, Geoffry quickly found the stairs and headed up them trying to remember which floor he'd been on when he'd observed his target from the fire escape. The fifth floor, it was the fifth floor.
Once the vampire hit the fourth floor he slowed down and stopped taking the stairs three at a time. He has to die. I'm serving justice, no more, no less.
Geoffry reached the fifth floor and turned towards the footsteps he heard coming from the left. Nice and easy, just like Venice taught me. A quick strike to the neck, and it will all be over.
The vampire slipped the retaining strap off of his katana, but held it with his left hand to ensure that it didn't fall to the floor. Just around the corner, it sounds like he's reached his door.
Keys jingled just ahead, and then Geoffry turned the corner to see his target opening the door, only to suddenly find himself looking down the barrel of a handgun from just ten feet away. “Besides being stupid, what are you cracker? Some kind of goth detective? People don't come here unless they live here, want drugs, or belong to five-o.”
Unlike the encounter when he'd saved the girl, Geoffry's mind was completely blank. He felt himself teetering on the verge of hysteria as his rage evaporated, giving way to terror. I'm going to die. How stupid could I have been?
Unsatisfied by Geoffry's lack of response, the drug dealer walked a couple steps closer and yelled. “Answer me before I bust you mother effer.”
Geoffry tried to answer. It was as if time had slowed down, but his oxygen needs hadn't altered. He couldn't get enough air, couldn't get the words out. If I'm going to die I may as well do so fighting instead of waiting for him to execute me.
Still seeming to move at half speed, the vampire drew his sword with his left hand, and then dropped to his knees as the weapon slowly arced up towards the hand holding the nine millimeter semiautomatic. A pressure wave tugged at Geoffry's hair, and then his right hand joined his left on the long hilt of his sword, and it jerked slightly in his hands as it swept through the dealer's arm.
As the Glock fell to the ground, time seemed to speed back up to normal, and acting out of reflexes that went far beyond anything Venice had yet shown him, Geoffry stepped forward and swept his weapon back around in a lethal strike to the man's neck.
Looking at the pieces that had seconds before been a living person, the vampire's felt himself start shaking as the cushion of fear no longer shielded him from what he'd done. This wasn't self defense, I deliberately set out to kill him, I'm just as much a murderer as he is.
The realization that his ear hurt, that the fluids trickling down his neck had to be blood, nearly drove Geoffry over the edge to panic.
An inch to the side, and that bullet would have blown out the back of my head. What have I done?
With a mental effort that he hadn't believed himself capable of, Geoffry pulled himself together.
I have to get out of here. People will have heard the gunshot. They'll have called the police.
Geoffry looked around and then spying the open door to the drug dealer's apartment, quickly slipped inside, pushing the door shut with his foot as he went past.