By the Way, You're a Vampire
The soft ring of Judith's Palm woke her out of a deep sleep. Thinking it was her alarm at first, she tapped the nightstand to snooze it. But then she realized that the ring was different and it didn't stop with the tap. She cracked one eye open to look at the screen.
Claire Renato was calling her. Judith opened both eyes blearily and looked at the time. 2:47am. Beside her, Angel stirred.
Judith pressed the answer button, not realizing that the call was coming in through video instead of just audio, and Claire's frantic expression immediately came on screen. Judith blinked in the brightness.
"Judith, thank god! Please tell me Angel is with you!"
"Claire?" Judith rubbed at her eyes to wipe the sleep out. "What's wrong?"
"It's Mari," Claire said urgently. "Look." She centered the camera on something else and it took Judith a moment to get her bearings. It looked like Marietta's flat, by the sage green couch that took up most of the screen. On the couch was Marietta. She was writhing.
Suddenly more awake, Judith propped herself up on one elbow and brought the screen closer. Marietta was mumbling a stream of nonsense words that sounded like pure anguish.
Judith felt Angel shift behind her as he sat up to look over her shoulder. It seemed to take him a moment to wake up, too, but then suddenly, his arm was reaching around her to angle the screen to a better position for him to see it.
Claire reappeared in that moment, and her expression became slightly relieved. "Oh good, Angel," Judith shifted uncomfortably and made sure the blankets appropriately covered her, but Claire didn't seem to notice. "Tell me you can help her," she said desperately.
"What happened?" Angel asked.
"Well we went to that bookstore," Claire began rapidly, "and you're a vampire."
Judith's mouth dropped open slightly and she wondered how on earth going into a bookstore made Angel a vampire. Angel seemed unperturbed, though.
"What did she touch?" he asked.
"Nothing weird, I promise," Claire held up her hand in solemn oath.
Angel sighed sharply. Taking the Palm from Judith, he sat up all the way. "She touched something, or else she's been taking lessons in Kaurish-an ancient, evil demonic language-for fun lately." Judith's stomach felt icy cold. "What did she touch?"
"Er…" Claire bit her lip. "Books. A candle… She showed me some pretty stones…"
"How pretty?" Angel asked in a low voice.
"Uhh…" Claire faltered under the intensity of his gaze.
"Was there a ruby?" Angel asked.
"Might have been, yeah."
"On the top shelf?"
Claire nodded. "Definitely was, yeah."
"Shit," Angel spat bitterly.
"Why?" Judith asked, sitting up, thoroughly alarmed.
Angel glanced back at her, but didn't answer. "No, it's okay," he muttered, "it's probably just an echo. It's not like she would have bled on it."
Claire gave him a wide-eyed look. "Uhhhhhh…"
"You're kidding," Angel told her.
"Well…" Claire winced. "One of the books gave her a kind of nasty papercut. It might have been before she touched the ruby."
"Might have been?" Angel repeated. "You've got to be sure."
"Well, I'm not," Claire said. "What if she did?"
Angel threw the covers off himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "She'll die," he told her bluntly. Fear gripped Judith's stomach. "We'll be there soon," he told her, and hung up, tossing the Palm back to Judith.
"How certainly?" Judith asked as she grabbed at whatever clothes she could find first.
"If she bled on it?" Angel took a second to calculate as he pulled his pants over his hips. "Almost definitely."
"How can we find out?"
"We're going to pay Ferguson a visit."
Angel pounded on the locked door and called for Ferguson to come out, once in English and then again in Korean. Nothing stirred inside. Angel pounded again, shouted something else in Korean, and suddenly a light flicked on above the shop.
A few seconds later, an aging Korean man in thin slippers and what looked like a child-sized robe appeared and, grumbling, unlocked the door. "What do you w-"
But Angel pushed his way inside and made a beeline for the back of the shop; Judith followed.
"Now see here, Angel," the shopkeeper hobbled after them. "You can't just—"
"Two women came in here earlier," Angel interrupted, scanning the crowded shelves for something. "A redhead and a Mediterranean. Do you remember them?"
"I don't have to divulge anything about my customers to you," Ferguson crossed his arms defiantly.
Angel shot him a glare so intimidating that Judith herself stepped back.
"But of course, people who don't buy anything aren't customers," Ferguson said quickly. "What do you want to know?"
"Did you tell them I'm a vampire?" He craned his neck, scanning the top shelves intently as he passed.
The man suddenly paled. "I- N-no, of course not. Why would I- I know, you told me, you don't like being talked about, so I didn't. No sir, Angel, I did not talk about you at all."
"But you showed them books that have me in it?"
"Well, er…" The shopkeeper said nervously.
Angel suddenly found what he was looking for: a small, highly polished ruby. He tugged the sleeve of his jumper out from under his jacket and used the cloth as a protective barrier to pick up the ruby and sniff it. Then Angel swore so foully that Judith actually flinched.
He pocketed the ruby and made for the exit, Judith following closely.
"Hey!" Ferguson called, shuffling behind them as fast as he could. "You have to pay for that!"
"I'll bring it back," Angel snarled. "Be grateful I'm not keeping it for collateral damage."
They left before Ferguson could decide if he was more angry or terrified, his sputters following them into the night.
The walk to Angel and Marietta's building seemed to take forever and the cold dread in Judith's stomach seemed to weigh her down. They actually took the lift when they got to the building because it was much faster than the stairs.
"She's never invited you in," Judith said softly as the lift rose up to the fourth floor.
"No," Angel agreed.
They didn't say anything else.
"Oh thank god!" Claire cried when she threw open the door. "Hurry!"
Judith stepped over the threshold, but Angel pressed his hand against it and shook his head.
"Is she at all coherent?" he asked Claire, who was looking at the invisible barrier with amazement.
"I- No, not really," she replied.
Judith, who was now at the couch, knelt next to the writhing, murmuring Marietta and shook her shoulder gently, trying to get a response. She looked terrifying to Judith: a familiar person acting so...unfamiliarly. Possessed.
That was what it was, she knew. Angel hadn't said so, but she could put two and two together. She turned back to him, caught his eye, and shook her head.
"Okay…" Angel said softly, thinking. "Okay. Can you two get her to the door?"
"We're bringing her downstairs?" Judith asked.
Angel nodded. "All my stuff's there anyway."
Claire hurried over and together, they managed to get Marietta into a sitting position on couch. The next part turned out to be much harder. With Marietta thrashing, she managed to pull herself out of their grasp more than once, falling back against the couch. Angel shouted urgent instructions from the door on how to hold someone in a proper grip, but they had a hard enough catching a grip, much less keeping it.
Finally, they stood up with Marietta between them, her arms held tightly over their shoulders, and began half walking, half dragging her toward the door. The path seemed endless, with Marietta's weight thrown unpredictably around and Judith's palms sweaty with exertion.
"You've gotta hurry," Angel said impatiently from the door. "The longer we take-"
"We're trying, Angel," Judith said, pausing to adjust her grip again. "She's getting worse."
It was true. With each step closer, Marietta seemed to thrash with new vigor, like she didn't want to get near Angel. Just a few meters away, she actually began to dig her heels in against them.
"Damn it," Angel bit out. "Drag her by the wrists if you have to."
Judith shot him a glare, though she knew he was right. She took another step forward and yanked at Marietta's arm, jerking her forward. Then Marietta's arm wrapped around her neck and pressed against her windpipe.
Judith gagged, and she heard Angel and Claire shouting her name. Claire helped her pull at the arm, but either Marietta was weirdly strong or the thing inside her was getting stronger. Judith was going to go with the latter, although the decision really didn't help her at all.
She stumbled, gasping for air, heart pounding in her chest. She began to feel dizzy. Marietta's arm suddenly jerked at her and they stumbled forward a step. Judith looked up.
Claire was pulling them toward the doorway, straining so hard that sweat was trickling down the side of her face. Judith couldn't breathe and she was starting to see stars, but it occurred to her that if she was conscious, she could walk.
Marietta's arm was already fast against her neck, so what was a little more pressure? Judith helped pull Marietta forward, despite the now-sharp pain against her throat. It was just a few more steps to the door. Judith focused on each one, realizing that, this time, her life actually did depend on it.
Three more steps. Claire pulled harder, closing in on the doorway first to Angel, watching in helpless terror. Judith saw what Claire was trying to do, even though her vision was starting to blacken: if Claire could even get a wrist over the threshold, Angel would have Marietta.
Judith fell a step behind and then, because weight was the greatest force she had, threw herself against Marietta, pushing her forward that extra step as Claire pulled her other arm over the threshold.
Later, Judith wasn't sure if she'd actually fallen unconscious or if her brain had temporarily lost the ability to make new memories, but she woke on the floor of the entryway to Marietta's flat, her head in Claire's lap, and her throat aching.
Claire breathed a sigh of relief when Judith opened her eyes, and she realized that Claire was stroking her hair. Claire said something that Judith couldn't quite make out, and she groaned, looking around. The place was empty, and Angel was nowhere in sight.
"...help Mari," Claire's voice faded into Judith's awareness. She sat up slowly with Claire's help. "He didn't want to leave, but he didn't have much choice, did he?"
Judith looked at her, and her consciousness began to flood in, including memories of the last- However long since the phone call. "Help me up," she said, and Claire helped her to her feet.
"Are you alright?" Claire asked.
"I'll be fine," Judith said raspily, though she certainly wasn't yet. "Let's go."
Claire dipped under Judith's arm and supported her toward the door.
When they pushed open the door to Angel's flat, he looked up from where he'd been kneeling on the floor, apparently drawing a chalk circle around Marietta, who seemed more subdued now that the battle to stay out of Angel's grasp had been lost.
"Are you okay?" Angel asked, dipping his fingers into a bowl of crushed herbs on the floor near his knee. Behind him on the apothecary table, his mortar and pestle were out, as were a few bags of herbs and several open books.
"Fine," Judith assured him, though her throat still croaked a little. "Marietta?"
Claire closed the door behind them and they approached the circle cautiously. Angel sprinkled the herbs in his fingers along part of the perimeter of the circle and answered, his voice also a little croaky, "Contained." He didn't say any more.
"How can I help?" Judith asked, drawing up beside him. Angel looked up at her thoughtfully, calculating in his mind what needed to be done and how fast and what of it he could delegate. After a second, he gave a small, decisive nod and stood up.
"Claire," he turned to her and she straightened attentively. Angel pointed to the bowl of herbs on the floor. "Finish lining the circle with that, but do not break the chalk line. Not even if she starts begging you to. Until this is over, there is absolutely no reason that anyone but me should be breaking that circle. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," Claire nodded, and Judith actually had to give her a little credit for not adding a salute. Angel glared at her, but turned to Judith and jerked his head toward the kitchen. She followed.
On the counter were already several ingredients, most of them in bottles, and there was a pot on the stove, though the burner wasn't lit. Another book lay open next to the bottles.
"I need you to make this for me," Angel said, pointing to the instructions in the book. "Everything you need is here. Follow the instructions exactly. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Where are you going?" Judith asked in alarm.
"I need to get something," Angel replied. "Shouldn't take long."
Judith swallowed and nodded.
Angel touched her shoulder gently. "You sure you're okay?" he asked again.
"Yes," she insisted. "Go. Get whatever it is you need."
Angel nodded, turned, and left. Judith stepped up to the book on the counter, found the instructions, and let out a cry of despair.
"What?" Claire suddenly appeared at the kitchen doorway. "Should I call Angel back?"
"No," Judith said morosely. "No, it's fine…" She sucked in a deep breath and bit her lower lip.
"What's wrong?" Claire asked, approaching her with concern.
Judith nodded toward the book. "It's in Latin." She sighed. "I'll manage. It's just been a while." Judith studied Latin in college and in her post-graduate work because of her history concentration-her focus was in Native American studies, but she'd wanted to learn Latin anyway. Angel had lent her a few books in Latin over the years, which kept it fresh enough, but now was not the time for a test.
Claire asked if Judith needed help, but she shook her head. She just needed to concentrate, which of course would be easy in the middle of the night with one of her best friends in mortal danger and her neck still sore from an attempt on her own life…
Well, Angel had set out all the ingredients she'd need. She counted them just to make sure, and they matched the number listed. So it was essentially a logic puzzle. A life and death logic puzzle.
Claire touched Judith's back gently before she left to watch over Marietta. Judith let out a shaky breath and set to work.
A bit of sage…that was easy. So was the drop of mercury. Angel had clearly marked each jar of liquid, so she figured out the "broth" without too much difficulty. Judith had to deduce a few other ingredients out through process of elimination, but she was mostly sure she got them right in the end.
The mixture was just beginning to steam when Angel returned. He swept into the kitchen and peered into the saucepan. "Looks good," he said. "Any trouble?"
"I don't think so… Did you get what you needed?"
Angel nodded curtly. "Do you still need the book?"
"No, I'm done."
Angel took it and left, and she could hear him rummaging about in the living room. The potion on the stove started to shimmer with pre-boiling bubbles, and Judith used her Palm to time seven minutes exactly, as the instructions had said. When it was done, she turned off the flames and returned to the living room.
Angel was on the floor near the circle again, this time lighting candles and adjusting stones around the perimeter. He glanced up briefly when she entered.
"It's ready, Angel," Judith said.
"Good." He nodded toward a clay bowl on one of his many bookshelves. "Strain it into that and bring it back. I think we're ready…"
Judith did as he said. When she returned, Angel was standing, taking mental stock of his work, and refused the bowl when she tried to give it to him.
"That's for you," he said.
"For me?"
"Well," Angel quickly corrected, "it's for her, but you're going to give it to her."
Judith gave it a brief moment's surprised thought. "And what will you do?"
"Hold her. She won't like it. Well, Rankos won't like it."
"Rankos?" Judith asked.
"The demon that's possessing her."
"I see," Judith said weakly.
Claire approached from behind Judith and stopped on her other side. "So you're going to exorcise it?"
"Kind of," Angel replied. "Rankos is older than traditional exorcism rituals, so I'm changing it a bit. But same idea." He glanced at Judith. "I've got to be honest: it's probably too late."
Judith's stomach clenched. "So what are we waiting for?"
Angel grimaced slightly, as if she'd shouted at him. Judith frowned worriedly. Slowly, Angel reached into his pocket and drew out a glass vial as wide as her thumb and twice as long. It was filled with blood.
"Angel…" Judith said slowly. "Is that what you went out to get?"
"It's crucial," Angel explained. "The girl will be fine."
"You have blood in your fridge," she said coolly.
Angel hesitated again. "It had to be fresh. And virgin."
Judith breathed in deeply to calm herself. Now was not the time. Marietta needed them. "I don't want to know," she said, and held up the bowl of greenish potion. Angel uncorked the vial and poured the blood in. The mixture turned an unnaturally bright shade of red and began to steam as if they'd put it back on the heat.
Angel closed the vial and stuffed it quickly back in his pocket. "We'll have to work fast. I'll break the circle and go in first. Make sure she drinks the entire bowl, no matter what. When she screams, it's the demon, not her."
Judith bit her lip and nodded.
"As soon as it's gone, get out of the circle through the opening only." He paused. "Questions?"
"No," Judith said shakily, her heart hammering.
"Yes," Claire interrupted. "What can I do?"
Angel glanced down at Marietta's form, curled fetal and sweating. He shook his head. "Nothing, for now." He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Ready?" he asked Judith, and she nodded. Claire moved to a place where she could better see what was happening, arms crossed and biting her lip in apprehension. Angel stretched out a foot and broke the line.
Almost too quickly for her eyes to catch-and with a surprised cry from Marietta that told Judith that she wasn't expecting such speed, either-Angel was kneeling behind Marietta, and in a furious flurry of movement, had maneuvered her into a position where she was sitting upright against him, her legs folded under her and locked between his knees, her arms twisted behind her back and held with one arm while he used his other hand to hold Marietta's head to his shoulder. Marietta tried to wrench free, but Angel held tight and told Judith to hurry.
Judith rushed into the circle, bent, and pressed the rim of the bowl to her friend's lips, but they were closed tightly shut.
"I'm so sorry, darling," Judith murmured as she took Marietta's jaw in one hand and tried to pry it open. Marietta glared at her, catching her eye and Judith jumped a little in shock: Marietta's eyes were blood-red. Not bloodshot: where her irises used to be a kind, soothing shade of dark chocolate, now they glowed, ruby-like and sinister. Growls rumbled deep inside Marietta and Judith bit her lip. It helped a little bit, terrifying as it was to hear coming from the friend that was known among their group for gentility. It sounded so alien, all Judith wanted to do was get it out.
Judith adjusted her stance and dug her fingers at Marietta's cheek where her teeth met, trying to pry them apart, but it was no good. She let out a short cry of frustration. Angel shifted a bit, either adjusting for Marietta's escape attempts or trying to figure out how to help get her jaw open. An idea struck Judith and she looked at Angel.
"It still needs her to breathe, right?"
It took a second for Angel to realize what she was getting at, but then his eyes lit up. "Yes. Good thinking."
And so Judith clutched Marietta's nose in her hand, pressing the soft parts together hard, and waited for the air in her lungs to run out.
It took longer than she expected; or maybe that was just her warped perception of time, when the little amount they had meant so much. Marietta's struggles and growls became more vehement at first, but then died away into something more feeble, but no less panicked. Judith apologized softly again. Finally, Marietta relented, and her mouth opened enough to let some air in. Judith seized the moment and dug her fingers into Marietta's cheek and between her teeth, propping her jaw open, and she tipped the contents of the bowl into her mouth.
Marietta convulsed and screamed. She tried to back away from the bowl, but her head was held tight against Angel's shoulder. She bit down hard on Judith's fingers, trying to get her to let go. Judith whimpered a bit at the pain, but it hurts more to bite down on one's own cheek, so she ignored it until Marietta gave up, tilting the bowl further still, funneling it down her throat through choking yells. She did not stop until the entire contents of the bowl, down to the gritty dregs, had been forced into Marietta's mouth.
"That's good," Angel said as Judith pulled the bowl away and extracted her fingers. "Go. Through the opening."
She left quickly and turned to watch Angel position himself so that when he let go, he could get out as fast as possible. He noted where he left the chalk on the floor and then, just as quickly as he went in, let go of Marietta, backed out of the circle, and completed it again. A bright light flashed around the circle and a shimmering wave like desert heat rose from the line up to the ceiling, and then faded away. Marietta whirled around angrily, coughing, with a trickle of the bright red potion dripping down her chin.
Judith watched through a daze as Angel seized the book and recited the lines written in it. She'd been asleep not too long ago, and now she was watching an intense magic ritual which would determine the life or death of one of her dearest friends. She had just brewed her very first, very poisonous potion to force down said friend's throat (which, if she'd failed in making it, could mean the failure of the entire process). Claire stepped up next to her and wrapped an arm around her. Judith leaned into her gratefully.
Angel was pacing around the edge of the circle as he said the lines from his book. Marietta said something raspy and unintelligible. Angel hesitated, but didn't respond.
Rankos' voice spoke through Marietta again, sounding like a grater dragging through flesh. It made Judith's skin crawl, and Claire shivered against her.
Angel ignored whatever it was Rankos had said.
The third time Rankos tried to speak, Angel finally yelled, "Will you shut up?" Bright yellow sparks spat out from the circle's line, stinging Marietta's arms. She cowered, but still snarled at him.
Angel continued the incantation with a raised pitch, and Judith stiffened, watching him. She trusted Angel more than she probably should. She did not doubt what he was doing. But it felt like they were coming to the end of the trial and the verdict would soon be coming in. Would Angel's efforts be good enough? Would hers?
Angel said his last words and closed the book with a snap. He and Marietta caught each other's eyes and waited. Judith had almost forgotten to breathe and every single muscle fiber in her body was tense with apprehension.
And then Marietta gasped and screamed one last time. A dark red cloud poured out of her gaping mouth and swirled around the inside of the circle. The cloud grew thicker and larger; soon, Marietta completely disappeared inside it.
The cloud swirled faster, gathering speed like a storm and then it began to condense and take form: a towering, muscular, quite ugly figure. There were even horns. The cloud solidified completely and became bone, flesh, and dark red skin that looked severely burnt. Rankos extended his clawed hands to examine them and Claire let one arm go of Judith to clap a hand over her silently-screaming mouth. They backed away several steps.
Judith had seen demons at the Dragon's Crown, and once or twice in more dire situations. She'd come to expect that depictions of demons with red skin and horns were like pictures of witches with green skin and warts: popular fantasy of the human mind. Apparently, they were actually based in ancient fact. Rankos, overwhelmingly huge with sharp yellow teeth and eyes that seemed to be made of fire itself, could have come out of a book that gives children their first introduction to the idea of Hell.
Rankos looked down at Marietta, who was unconscious at his feet, and then turned to face Angel.
"Thank you," he said in a voice that sounded like hardening lava. "I have not had the use of my own body in a very long time…"
"It won't last," Angel said.
"No," Rankos agreed. "Physical form never does. But it will suffice for a while." Rankos tilted his head curiously at Angel and said, "I must have been mistaken," he said slowly. "A fallen hero, then? That is a lovely plot twist. But if you were hoping to conquer the world with me, I am afraid I must disappoint you."
Angel stared at Rankos a moment, then turned away and strode toward the wooden chest where Judith knew he kept his weapons.
"It's not that I'm not grateful that you freed me, of course," Rankos continued. "I am merely old and set in my ways. I hope you won't hold it against me as I kill you. Tell me, though—"
But Angel whirled around with a gleaming sword in hand and Rankos stopped in surprise. Then he smiled and chuckled amiably.
"Young man, I am a child of the gods of old. Mere mortal weaponry cannot harm me."
Angel's expression was still blank as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a second vial of blood. Rankos eyed it warily and watched as Angel thumbed off the cork, which fell to the floor in several dull thuds and rolled away. Angel lifted the vial up to the point of the sword and slowly poured the blood over the steel. Several drops fell to the floor, but most of it ran down the blade, coating it all the way to the hilt.
Finally, Angel spoke. "I hope you liked that I added some of this to your potion," he said, slipping the vial back into his pocket, now twisting the sword slowly, watching the blood coat more of the steel.
Rankos smiled at Angel coldly, but his eyes watched the blade in growing apprehension. "I enjoyed the taste as much as you did, I'm sure. She had a bit of licorice, don't you think?"
Seemingly satisfied with the blood-covered sword, Angel straightened, squaring his shoulders. "I really couldn't have made this work, otherwise," Angel said as if he hadn't heard Rankos' reply. "Because you're right: Mortal weapons can't hurt you."
"Ah," Rankos said suddenly, tensing. "But blood magic can."
"Bingo," Angel said as he strode up to the circle, the sword high behind his shoulder and dripping blood as he walked. Rankos didn't have time to do more than lift a heavy arm, because without hesitation, Angel smeared the line with his shoe, his sword already swinging through the air even before the flash of a shimmer around Rankos fell away. Flinging droplets of blood as it arched toward Rankos' thick neck, the sword sliced clean through it. The demon's body collapsed across Marietta's legs, the head rolling away toward the bookshelves.
"See?" Angel said mostly to himself. "Sometimes it can be nice and easy… No big fight, no broken furniture…"
There was brief moment of deadly silence where Angel stood, towering over Marietta, a dripping, bloody sword in hand. He was clearly exhausted, his imposing posture slipping as the realization that the imminent danger had passed sank in. They'd won the battle against Rankos, but Marietta…
Judith extracted herself from Claire's arms and hurried across the room, Claire close behind. Angel dropped to his knee, setting the sword aside, and placed two fingers against her carotid artery as they drew level. Right away, Judith knew that it was a bad sign-Angel didn't usually need to feel to detect a pulse. His fingers dug further into her neck, searching. He leaned in to listen more closely. Judith and Claire held their breaths, waiting…
Angel started. "There," he said, straightening up suddenly. "She's alive."
"Oh god," Claire breathed in relief, and Judith reached over and squeezed her hand.
Angel hauled Rankos' body off of Marietta and picked her up. "Get the door."