legend of the vampire (chapter 12: i'm not a hero)

8/4/2019 Legend Of The Vampire (Chapter 12: I'm not a Hero)

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1- Brian Donovan if you dont remember was the WOOHP agent in the first districtfight, the one that Ian let to live.

2- Sam Savage was the leading werewolf who led the attack on the first district library,he was believed to have died in that battlebut as you can see he didnt XD

3- I changed the name of the founder of WOOHP, his name from now on is Caleb Adam.4- Shamisen is a three string Japanese musical instrument

CHAPTER 12: I'm not a Hero

"Open your eyes."

The whisper echoed in a far distant plane that, for most days, Sam Savage(1) would haveoverlooked. He was the temple wolf, one of the most gallant pack members, who neverappreciated subtlety. Forceful and concise statement was the way to exhibit dignity, and hehad lived by the creed for four decades.

"Now, listen to me. Open your eyes."

Except that the stranger's voice now held a remarkable persuasion that Sam couldn't helpbut obey.

Slowly, Sam opened his eyes and squinted at the white glow from the downlights mountedon the steel ceiling. The air was rather chilly in this confined room, and so was the cold,hard bed he was lying upon. An unfamiliar scent of perfume struck him, telling him of apresence of another. The voice in his dream was real after all.

With difficulty, Sam turned his head a bit and saw a young woman in her white garb. Thewoman had short, brown hair and a pair of round, hazel eyes. Occupying a chair about two

meters away from the bed, she adjusted her crimson-brimmed glasses and cleared herthroat. She crossed her legs and looked away, seemingly uncomfortable in her posture. Ablack laptop was put on the steel table next to her. Her look came across as a harmlessindividual, only Sam knew better.

The woman's awfully pale skin was the first sign to ring Sam's alarm bell. The look of harshlines of veins on her cheeks and neck was the second evidence. And the fact that Sam foundhis wrists and ankles restrained by iron handcuffs fastened to the bed told him that he wasin the least friendly confinement he could possibly think of.

"Vampire!" Sam spat.

"Sofia Fletcher. I do have a name," the stranger said, turning her face away and discreetly

letting out a small sigh. She then turned to her laptop and read a profile page with Sam'spicture on the top left corner. "Sam Savage. You have got quite a record over the past twodecades. You are also on the top ten wanted list"

"Where am I! What these handcuffs are for! You areso busted, vampire! I demand you tolet me go at once!" Sam tried to sit up, but the handcuffs wouldn't budge. His inability totransform hit him hard, and he knew something must have happened while he wasunconscious.


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"Welcome to WOOHP' Midgard Headquarters. It is going to be a rough day" Sofia said,and then looked up at the ceiling, "for me."

The vampire stood up and collected her laptop. Before she could turn away, Sam yelled,"You! Do not walk away from me! How did I end up here! What do you wand from me!"

From what Sam remembered, he was fighting the weird, winged vampire in the FirstDistrict, and then Ian and Alex barged in. What happened after that was a dark blur in hismemory. He had no idea how long he had been out.

"What's the commotion, darling?" A voice interrupted, snickering.

Out of breath, Sam turned to the source of voice.

Another young-looking vampire walked in with a sly smile on her face. She was in a tight,leather bodysuit, WOOHP emblem on the left sleeve. Her shoulder-length bob was dyed indefiant green, and her eyes were of the lighter shade of gray. With a gold-plated handgunin her belt holster and a dagger in her ankle holster, her looks was more of a combatanttype than Sofia's bureaucratic one.

"It is nothing, Jessica. It is exactly what I have been briefed only worse," Sofia said.

The green-haired vampire walked to the side of the bed and stared down her nose at Sam."They were right. This dog isn't going to be easy to tame," she said.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. He tried to break the handcuffs, butto no avail.

Sofia pushed her glasses up with her index finger. "Why did they assign him to me in thefirst place? Have I misbehaved lately?"

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Jessica chortled. "Because you're the only one who can be in the same room with him forfive minutes without killing him."

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Sofia tightened the laptop to her chest and turned towards the door. "We should go. I needa painkiller."

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

"A martini will do." Jessica laughed merrily as she followed her friend out of the room.

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Arms across her chest, Julia stood by the window of her newly assigned quarter, watchingthe sun slowly rise above the far horizontal line over the vast sea. Within seconds, she hadto retreat and pressed a button on the black remote control on the desk nearby. A steelplane automatically slid down and sealed the room from sunlight.


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The steel-walled quarter offered a hard bed in the middle, a sizable closet to its right. Shewas given several of the same leather uniform along with a few pairs of knee-high boots.With a cell phone, she could order glasses of blood at anytime she desired. They even gaveher a black laptop and allowed internet access.

With all these privileges, she wasn't quite sure what Kazuya had in mind for his agents. Asfar as she knew, WOOHP' field agents were always humans, a practice that had kept

vampire's relation with the organization hidden for long years. Could it be that Kazuyafeared Uriah so much so that he had to hide behind his human puppets?

Coward

Kazuya was then no different from Hideaki Kruger, the father of werewolf, who rarely setfoot out of his pathetic lair for fear of his own life. Julia found their fear ridiculous. Whatimmortality could give when one dared not to live?

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

The shriek slipped through the door to her room, and Julia frowned at the source of voice.

It didn't sound like a tortured cry, but a plain, crazy scream.

Pressing the red button next to the light switch, the steel door slid open and she walked outinto the hallway. She was alone in the brightly lit corridor for a moment before several

doors slid open as well, vampires sticking their heads out and glancing at one another. Theylooked to be equally baffled as she was.

A woman in a white garb and a pair of glasses turned around the corner, hugging a laptopto her chest. Beside her was a green-haired, young woman in the same black uniform Juliawas wearing.

"I cannot believe that he can be this loud," the woman in white said.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Go back to your room! It's only a dog. Go back to your room!" the vampire in blackmischievously waved at her peers along the corridor, appearing to enjoy the screams.

Julia glanced at the residents in the rooms closest to her. A few nodded to greet her, butmost just ignored a newcomer like her and slipped back into their rooms. Shrugging at thecold gesture, Julia turned and was about to close her door. However, a fast hand slidthrough and the censor bounced the door open again.

Instinctively growling in defense, Julia spun around to face the intruder, her hand ready atthe gun in her belt holster.

"Whoa! She's a fierce one, Sofia!" Leaning against the doorframe, the green-hairedvampire scanned Julia from head to toe. With her nails painted black, she had heavymakeup around her eyes and wore a dark shade of lipstick, a sharp contrast to her pale skinand colorful hair.

"Hello, Ms. Spider, Mr. Krow has briefed me a little about you. I am sorry I have not beenable to come see you sooner. I am Sofia Fletcher, and this is my friend, Jessica Fang ," Sofiasaid, smiling. "How do you find your room?"


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"Is it comparable to your room on that god-forsaken island? Don't they still go by torchesand such?" Jessica laughed at her own joke.

Arms across her chest, Julia put up a smirk. "I thought WOOHP would be more well-informed to know that I don't live in Uriah. I haven't for centuries."

Sofia chortled and said, "We are about to go to the lounge. Would you care to join us?"

"I think she's underage," Jessica sneered.

It took Julia a few moments before the invitation could sink in. She glowered at thegrinning, uncouth vampire. Throwing a wild guess, Jessica was at best half her age.

Although Julia was a rebel herself, she was Mai's most discreet apprentices. She knew theorders of the immortal world and, in some ways, had always walked the fine line but nevercrossed it. It was perhaps why she had withstood disgrace and continued to serve at theFirst District amidst her maker's downfall. It was the reason she had endured all the pain,waiting for an opportune moment to avenge Reito.

"Jessica is Jessica. You should not be bothered by her," Sofia said, with an unwaveringsmile, "What do you say?"

And Julia knew better that an immortal must fit in. "Sure."

"Well, well, well. I'm sure you'll have a blast," Jessica hissed in Jessica's ear. She hadswung her slender arm around Julia's shoulder, and literally dragged the older vampire outof the room.

They took the elevator down to the lobby area and headed towards the lounge, where a fewdozens of vampires had already occupied the gray couches and several glass tables, havingtheir good time with a drink in their hand.

Near the blood bar, a black, grand piano stood in the left corner of the lounge next to thegigantic window, which was now sealed by a thick, steel plane. A large TV was mounted onthe wall on the right, the volume tuned low as not to disrupt the chatter among partygoers.

Looking around, Julia grimaced at how different WOOHP was from Uriah.

Back at the island, life was as ordinarily dark and dull as it was in the ancient time. Uriahvampires still preferred their drink served in a chalice and usually slept in a coffin. They stilllooked for stars in the always cloudy sky and penned poems instead of surfing the internetand watching cable TV. WOOHP and Uriah were the ultimate cultural crash between Bladeand Dracula.

Among a few modern creations Uriah was willing to tolerate was the invention of deadly

arms, UV and silver-nitrate bullets. After all, vampires were once humans, and they couldn'tseem to shake off the thirst for power.

"Please, wait. Jessica is getting us a drink." Sofia led Julia towards an empty table near thepiano, putting the laptop down.

With a devious smile on her face, Jessica moved from the counter and joined them with

three glasses of blood and a bottle of whiskey. She laughed when she saw Julia's eyeswidened in intimidation, knowing what must have run through the redhead's mind.


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"Let's have some fun, shall we?" Jessica mixed some whiskey into each glass and handedthem to her friends.

Julia gawked at the drink in front of her. She didn't have to look, but she could feeleveryone's stare upon her now. Not many vampires could consume anything beside blood,and it was obviously Jessica's test of strength.

Without second thought, Julia snatched the glass and took one big gulp. Squeezing her eyesshut, she mentally forced herself to swallow it down. She would never let this punk vampirehumiliate her in public.

"Urgh!" Julia couldn't help it. Her body forced it all out, and she ended up spitting the drinkonto the table. Panting, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand, blood pumping madlythrough her veins in severe rejection. She glowered up at the laughing Jessica, blushing asthe whole room now snickered at her.

Sofia let out a sigh, hugging her laptop. She had retrieved the item from the table in time asif she had expected it. "Please, Jessica. You should not have done that."

Jessica had also lifted her glass early enough to avoid Julia's spit. She turned to wave at thebartender and said, "A glass of O, please!"

The bartender quickly wiped the smile off his face and looked down to avoid Julia's glare."Right away, sir!"

Jessica turned back to the table. "Type O works best for hangover."

"I don't have a hangover, punk!" Julia barked.

"It was just a harmless prank. Loosen up, junior." Rolling her eyes, Jessica took a sip fromher own glass.

Julia paused. Normally, she would have lash out in anger, but the fact that Jessica couldactually consume the alcohol stunned her.

Out of frustration, Julia kicked the leg of the table, meaning to topple it over the green-haired vampire. But Jessica rammed her heel against the steel pipe, thrusting it back. Stillseated, both tried to push the table at the other, their face reddened and their leg shaken.

"Oh, Lord," Sofia mumbled. Her laptop on her lap, she was now holding the bottle ofwhiskey in one hand and two glasses in another.

"Umm sir?" The human waiter had approached the trio with a glass of type O, but hecould only stand there, unsure whether to put the drink on the shaky table.

"Goddamn it!" Jessica slid off her chair and down to one knee, shoving the table down withher.

With the round, glass plane between them now, Julia swooped down on her knee and herstrong punch met with Jessica's fist, shattering the glass into pieces. The force sent Jessicabackwards, sprawled on her back.

The onlookers burst into laughter, and some even clapped in amusement.


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"I win! I win, punk!" Julia jumped around, squealing.

Shaking her head, Sofia handed the liquor bottle and the glasses to the waiter. She thenhelped Jessica to stand up. "You should not have done that. You would only embarrassyourself."

Trembling in anger, Jessica spun around and stormed out of the lounge.

"Jessica is Jessica. Please, do not mind her," Sofia said.

Grinning, Julia just shrugged. "No, I don't. I actually had fun."

Sofia watched the back of her friend disappearing behind the corner of the hallway and let

out a sigh. "She has been around for three hundred years, but still has not learned muchafter all."

It was as predicted: Jessica was not a newbie, but her age would never allow her carelessconsumption.

"I'm curious. How on earth could she drink that thing?" Julia asked, frowning.

Bending to retrieve her laptop, Sofia adjusted her glasses a little and said, "She came fromthe Serpent Coven, where it harbored quite a few elders then. Her maker must have been

one of them, thus Jessica has earned the ability to consume more freely than her real agewould allow. Sadly, her power has not developed as much as she has hoped."

Julia stopped at the bit of information. "Serpent Coven?"

Sofia nodded and continued, "She rarely talks about her maker even to me, but we believe

that she is the last survivor of the clan. The others were hunted down and murderedthroughout the past centuries. You see, we were all rogues before Mr. Adam took us in. Wehave heard about your situation, and we feel that you can understand us, too. We have the

same goal, Ms. Spider. We will bring down Uriah. They are villains."

Looking down, Julia remained silent. Something struck her as odd as she recalled herencounter at the First District with a rogue vampire, who also claimed to have come fromKyoto. Spencer Lee clearly was the only one who still dared to use the infamous surnametoday. Considering Spencer's impressive strength, Julia was amazed that nobody seemed toknow of her existence, or the fact that the reclusive vampire had refused to join other clanafterwards.

Alas, things were never what it seemed in the immortal world.

"Uriah is the villain?" Julia chuckled, and then looked up at Sofia, "I think we all are."

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There wasn't much entertainment in a day for a young man of dark, well-built looks likeBrian Donovan (2). It had been about a month since his leg injury on duty. Surviving themission, he received a medal for the fall of the First District, Uriah's deepest humiliation incenturies. He was promoted to the rank of Captain, an honor he felt undeserved. Like his


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family members, who were killed by Uriah vampires, many of his friends perished in thecrypt. The rank ultimately meant nothing to him.

Brian still considered himself lucky. If he had stayed comatose in the hospital, they wouldhave given him to the lab, and he would be experimented to turn into a Lycan. Chance wasthat he probably would not survive the operation, or, if he did survive, he would beenslaved by one of WOOHP vampires right away.

But he was still human. He was still the master of his own body and mind.

In his white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Brian pounded his chest a few times and studied hisboyish looks in the mirror. Today was the first day he was allowed to leave theHeadquarters, having recovered from his injury.

Putting on his navy, baseball jacket, he left his room, greeting a few human fellows alongthe corridor as he made his way down to the first floor. Passing the lounge, he peered inand had to stop at the sight of a red-haired vampire in the black uniform.

She must be new.

Brian noted her pleasant facial features and admired her from the distance. Even though henever had any intention to get intimate with the immortals, he was still a man after all.

However, as soon as the redhead went down into a fight of strength against Jessica, Brianstraightened himself up and retreated from the doorway. The immortal's ridiculouslybloated ego always turned him off.

Striding through the lobby, he nodded to the beautiful receptionista humanand walkedout the building. There was no flirtation. There was no second thought.

After his family was murdered many years ago, he was taken in by John Smith. He had thenset a rule for himself: never court a colleague, or an immortal. Any emotional attachment

was considered suicidal to him. But practically growing up in WOOHP Headquarters greatlylimited the success of his love life, and at times the loneliness was indescribable.

He marched towards his black Thunderbird, where it was parked in the big parking space

next to the building. It was a lovely, sunny winter day. The wind was cold, but soft. The airwas fresh and light. He took in a deep breath and glanced up at the twin, black, twelve-story buildings behind him.

Each building was designated to immortals and humans separately, with only the first floor,where the lounge and the lobby were, that they did join. WOOHP' Headquarters in Midgardwas the only site that harbored vampires, and it was much more immortal-friendly than itsAmerican counterpart, where the agents hunted vampires and werewolves for sport. Attimes, he wondered who would make a better villain between mortals and immortals.

Although WOOHP operated largely by human troops, it was known that Caleb Adam (3) wasthe founder. But the vampire elder rarely made his presence public, and Smith was the truecommander of the human forces. The unlikely collaboration had most human agentshesitated in the beginning, but they learned to accept the vampires, or they simply ignoredtheir existence altogether.

To Brian, WOOHP was not so different from the Kyoto Coven, an organization with itsmembers at odds with one another. There were times when he feared that they wouldeventually suffer the same fate.


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"Nonsense." Brian chuckled to himself. It was a bright day, and he meant to keep the darkthought from his mind.

He got into the car and drove off the parking lot. At a T-junction, he turned right into anarrow road. Further down the hilly path, he admired the view of the sea down the cliffbefore driving into the tunnel, where it led 35 miles underwater to the larger island ofMidgard. He had to make a short stop at the exit of the tunnel; WOOHP had their humantroops guard the secret outlet in the woods at all times.

"Good morning, sir!" A guard saluted him.

Smiling, Brian saluted back and drove away.

Midgard was lively as always. He had a few places in mind where he usually went to unwindafter a mission. He also had a plan to catch up on a movie as he hadn't gone to a theater inmonths. Watching DVDs in his room, while being confined to bed, hardly entertained him.

"Okay," Brian mumbled to himself, grinning as he spotted a twenty-four-hour diner, wherehe often picked up some breakfast or a cup of coffee on the go.

Quickly, he parked his car in front of the diner and entered.

"Hello Oh?" Brian stopped by the doorway, looking left and right. There were a fewcustomers there already, but he didn't see a single waitress around. Sally, the diner'sowner, was nowhere to be seen either.

Shrugging, he walked further in and was about to seat himself on the crimson, leathercouch. However, his body instinctively halted at a strong smell hitting his nostrils. Helooked up from the seat and glanced over at the slightly open door to the kitchen in theback of the restaurant.

Blood.

Ordinary humans might have failed to detect the odor from where he stood, but Brian was atrained agent; he'd be damned if he had missed it.

Lots of blood, and it's not human's.

His mind took note of the crucial fact as he cautiously edged towards the door, one hand onthe gun in his shoulder holster. As softly as he could, he pushed the door open a little moreand peeked in. He could see Sally crouching on the floor, madly fumbling for a few towelsfrom the counter.

"We have to get him out of here as soon as possible. My dad has an old house not too farfrom here." A female spoke, whose identity was blocked behind the corner of the row of

stoves.

"I've stopped the bleeding. Let's go! Come on, help me!" Sally said.

From where Brian was, he could only see the pair of bare legs of the injured person on thefloor, bathed in blood. At this time of day, the suspect was very unlikely to be a vampire,but a werewolf.


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Frowning, he debated his next move. How unfortunate his day was? His first day onvacation started with another dying immortal in his way. Before he knew, Sally and herredhead friend lifted a raven-haired man in a leather coat off the floor. They quickly exitedthe backdoor. From the narrow gap between the door and the doorframe, he couldn't catchthe face of the wounded.

Brian then turned and ran out the restaurant through the front door. Sally had driven off in

her white Toyota, swerving fast around the corner. Soon, the car disappeared from themain street.

Clenching his fists, he gradually let out a sigh. He would never suspect in a million yearsthat an ordinary human like Sally could associate with an immortal. But it was a small worldafter all, and he knew that things were never quite simple.

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Through the centuries, Spencer could tally the times in her life with the count of her fingers

when she was put in a helpless situationincarcerated with no real assurance of beingdischarge as she was right now. She despised it. She felt threatened by improbability. Shehad grown to detest the unpredictability and its usually perilous outcome.

Nonetheless, she was continually pulled back into the chaotic path of the immortals eversince she met Ian.

In the dark, Spencer tried to breathe as deeply and slowly as she could. Curling up into aball, she stared at the tool box in front of her with one good eye, one weak hand extendedto keep the container from sliding into her face from the bumpy ride. In the trunk of thecar, she was lying on her side, screaming inwardly as she counted the seconds to be freed.If she had developed a claustrophobia right then, she wouldn't be surprised.

"Ah" Spencer winced. The stinging pain all over her body struck her like an endlesslyrepeating whip from a fire belt. Her skin still sizzled from the contact with morningsunlight.

Judging from the horror in the diner's owner's eyes when she first entered the backdoor ofthe restaurant, Spencer was sure that half the skin on her face had burnt and peeled off,her left eye had lost its sight, and chunks of her hair had fallen out.

She found the address of the diner from the stuffed napkin in Ian's coat pocket, andimmediately flew the werewolf out of the forest. In the soft sun, it was still an agonizinglylong flight for her, but she still couldn't decide which was worse between burning insunlight and being locked in the trunk.

Sally seemed to instantly realize who she was and offered her a hiding place. But there was

no assurance that the human would discharge her, or feed her, for the matter. Over thecenturies, distrust had become her best friend.

To her own amazement, there were things she would normally avoid, but simply could notignore when it involved Ian. She could have left the werewolf there and fled to her ownsafety, but she found it startling that she didn't even waste a second to take the man withher. Ian could have been attacked again if the mad Lycans came back, or he would surelydie if he were to wait for his peers to come and rescue him.


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Spencer disliked uncertainty; she wasn't going to risk it.

Then she started counting from one to ten thousand. She hummed all the songs she couldrecall, but didn't exactly finish any. She waited for long hours in silence for a sign to bereleased. Any sign. In the dark, enclosed space, she listened to her own ragged breathing,and her mind ran through a dozen different plans to disappear from the surface of theearth, or to terminate all those who had seen her.

It's back again I should have stayed in that warehouse. I shouldn't have left It's nevergoing to end.

Her body was weak, and her mind was hazy to the point that she failed to realize that thecar had stopped. It had stopped for a long time, and she only noticed a change insurrounding when the cover of the trunk was popped open, exposing her to a soft, coolwind from outside.

Spencer frantically raised her arms over her face, praying that the end would be as fast as

possible. She only opened her eyes again when her skin didn't react to the expected harshsunlight. The sun had just set, and the sky was rendered in various shades of pink.

Looking around, she found that the car was parked idly along a narrow, graveled path.Thick forest surrounded the area. Near where the car was, a set of high, stony flight ofsteps led up to an old house over the hill.

"Here, II figured you might need it," the diner's owner said. She was in her white coatand a pair of pants. She was holding a hand over her eyes, afraid to look at the batteredvampire, while extended her other hand with a few bags of donated blood.

Almost toppling herself out of the trunk, Spencer hastily grabbed the bags and fed herselfuntil the very last drop. When she finished, she looked up at the trembling woman and said,"Thank you."

Only then that the woman turned, reluctantly glancing her way. Her eyes then widened, hergaze fixed upon the vampire. "You you're healed"

The vampire didn't need a mirror to know that her skin had regenerated, her hair grownlong again. She could see clearly with both eyes now.

"Is Ian all right?" Spencer stared at the woman in the eye to detect any hint ofunusualness. She had no reason to count on this woman, yet it was the only way to get Ianto safety.

"He's safe now. I got silver-nitrate out of his system. But he couldn't heal as fast as youdid. He's still very weak," the woman replied.

Suppressing her sigh of relief, Spencer just nodded. In the least, this woman knew a betterway to deal with the situation than forcing Ian to take her blood. She couldn't believe howirrational she was at the moment, considering the outcome. She wanted no attachment. Shecouldn't.

"With silver-nitrate wounds, he temporarily loses the healing power. He'll need to rest for aweek, or so," Spencer explained. Oddly, the feeling of vulnerability and powerlessness onlyprevented her from going to Ian right away.


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"Don't worry about it. I'll take good care of him. I'm sorry I didn't come to get you soonerWell, honestly, I didn't know how to transport you out of the trunk. I had to wait untilsunset." The woman then studied Spencer with great curiosity, but she did so in a harmless,mild-mannered stare. "You must be Vampire Spencer. Ian often talked about you."

The notion stopped the vampire. She couldn't think of what importance to make Ianmention her to a friend. Judging from the smile in Sally's eyes, she hoped that Ian's take onher wasn't all vile and repulsive.

"I'm Sally. Sally Thompson. I'm a nurse. I've been friends with Ian for thirty years," Sallysaid, winking. Now, her inquisitive gaze had turned into a look of admiration. "He used totell me about how you saved him from the First District, and how you once knew hismother. You must be some kind of a hero to him."

Climbing out of the trunk, Spencer chose to ignore the last statement. She was manythings. She had had many personas. But Sally was greatly mistaken; she was anything but ahero. And Ian understood it. Ian knew it better than anyone else never to trust her.

Glancing around the area, Spencer took note of the thick forest and the seemingly isolatedenvironment. "Where am I?"

Sally moved towards the car and slammed the cover of the trunk close. "The house belongsto my friend's father. Midori. You remember the girl you met this morning? We're roughlytwenty-seven miles north of downtown. Not too far, eh? I could come in and take care ofIan when I'm off the shift at the hospital."

A slight nod was Spencer's only response. If their friendship had lasted for three decades,surely the werewolves would know about the diner, and they could track Sally down to thisplace. Very soon.

Not nearly far enough

Spencer bit her bottom lip, troubled by her worry over every step to guard Ian. It wasn'ther responsibility. It never was from the start. Now that Ian had learned about his motherfrom Annie, there was nothing more to tell. There was no obligation to stay. Spencer herselfhad no reason to seek Sally's assistance any further. Perhaps, she should leave now whenshe still had the time to seek a hiding place to start a new life without Anniewith no one.

Stuffing her car key into her pocket, Sally walked up the stony stairs.

"This place has been abandoned for many years, so I must apologize for the dust and theuntidiness around the house. Come, I'll quickly show you around. I think you might want abath. It couldn't be comfortable sleeping the trunk all day! Well, I'm actually late for myshift already. Can I trust you to take care of Ian tonight? I'll be back by morning. Midori isbusy, having to cover for me right now. By the way, do you have any preferred blood type?"She chuckled. "I'll sneak out some more for you. I was thinking I Hmm?"

The nurse's words trailed off when she had already reached the top of the staircase, butturned around to find herself alone. She then looked down the stairs and saw Spencer stillstanding at the bottom step. The mild puzzlement in her eyes eventually turned into aserious concern.

After a long moment, Sally took the first step down. She was cautious as if she feared thevampire would fly away at her reckless pace.


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Spencer watched every slow step the woman made. To her secret nuisance, she couldn'tunderstand why it was impossible to just walk away like she used tolike she had alwaysdone.

Sally came to stop two steps above hers, and a guilty smile curved up her thin lips. "Fromwhat he told me, I could guess that you're pretty much a loner. You aren't exactly Ian'scompanion. Well, not in thethe companion-companion way that I'd understand But Ithink that he needs you."

The vampire cast her gaze down at the last words. "Nobody does, and they better not. I gothim into trouble last night, so it's best that we part now. Please send him my regards," shesaid, turning away.

But Sally quickly followed and grabbed her arm, prompting Spencer to halt in her track. Ittook the vampire every ounce of strength not to react to the harmless touch. But the sternlook in her eyes did stop Sally. The woman's hand instantly slipped off her.

"You" Sally started, and then regained her composure to speak again. "You didn't walk inthe sun to bring him to me, and then just disappear on him like this."

"I've done many things you'd never understand." Spencer's gaze was as cold as her words.

"II heard how his pack had treated you, and I think I know where your anger comes

from," Sally said, looking down, "But I beg you. I'm only human. I can't possibly protecthim even if I try. Please stay until he recovers Please"

Sally then let out a shaky, deep sigh of desperation, her gaze filled with grief. "Ian savedme from a train wreck when I was a child. I lost my parents from the accident, and he hasbeen my friend ever since. He's very important to me I can't lose him"

Spencer remained motionless, her legs chained to the spot. She had not the strength toadmit that she would hate to leave, yet hate to stay.

"I always find type AB most refreshing if you please," the vampire finally said.

Her implied promise earned a big smile, almost a squeal in delight, from the nurse.

In a quick tour around the house, Sally showed her the two bedrooms, one with Ian restinginside, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom with a wooden bathtub. The house wasdecorated in traditional Japanese style, and it exuded the peaceful and solitary air allaround. However, the appearance of serenity did very little to calm Spencer's psyche as itreminded her very much of the Kyoto days she had tried to leave behind. She evenhallucinated the clattering sound of slippers along the graveled path whenever she wasn'tcareful.

Those smiles, and my shamisen (4)

Her eyes narrowed at the reminiscence. Spencer lied back in the wooden bathtub, trying torelax in the warm water.

After Sally left for her work, the vampire took a hot shower before deciding to delay hervisit to Ian's room with a bath. It was uncommon for her to feel unnerved by a visit. It waseven more unsound for her to have acted against her rule of survival; her stay would onlybroaden her unwanted exposure. She had had a lot to worry about ever since Hideaki hadcaught her lie about the Kyoto Coven, now Ian as well. Sometimes she cursed her luck for


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having chased a Kyoto vampire into the alley, running into Ann that night. This family didn'tseem to want to leave her be, and it meant threat to her.

Hugging herself, Spencer curled up and slipped under the water. She closed her eyes andprayed that she wouldn't see it anymorethe people she had killed to save herself, theblissful days she sacrificed only to be alone in the end. She wanted to forget, but it wouldn'tlet her. The melody from the old days still haunted her from last night, and she knew sheshould leave Ian now for that very reason.

God, make me disappear

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

His insufficient, often disruptive sleep was interrupted again by sporadic voices from theoutside, and Ian only relaxed when he realized that it was Sally's voice. It seemed that hisfriend was having a conversation with someone, and he was relieved that there wasn't anycommotion out there to require his presence. Even if his friend might be in danger, he was

in no condition to intervene.

Sally? How did I gethere? SpeSpencer!

At the last thought, Ian tried to push himself up, but managed to lift his shoulders onlybriefly before falling back down. The slight movement shot pain through his body; he tookin a deep breath in an attempt to ease the lingering sensation.

His eyes sore, he glanced around and found himself lying on a bed in a small, room. Thesliding door to his left lent a faint pool of moonlight through the blocks of white paper.Aside from his friend's voice that had grown further and further into the distance, he couldhear only crickets chirping, accompanied by the sound of breeze.

His breathing slowed down now, Ian struggled to ignore the pain gorging through his chestwound. It was difficult just to raise an arm, but he forced himself to lift the blanket. He wasin a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt, the belt loosened around his waist to alleviate thepressure on his stomach.

Peeking under his garment, it appeared that Sally had neatly bandaged each dressing overhis chest and abdomen wounds. Without silver-nitrate in his bloodstream, he could feel hisblood flow freely now. But her healing power had been diminished by the substance.Ironically, he felt most human when he was in his frailest state.

Giving in to fatigue, Ian closed his eyes again. But the nagging curiosity over the vampire'swhereabouts wouldn't let him rest. He grimaced as he recalled the look in Spencer's eyes athis lupine form last night. While he reminded himself that there was no reason to care, hecouldn't quite grasp why he had felt starkly naked and painfully vulnerable in reaction to

Spencer's fear.

Throughout his life, Ian rarely transformed unless it was absolutely necessary. He dislikedthe power and cruelty it brought him, its influence over his body and mind stealing him ofevery human sense. And he believed that Spencer had felt it, too.

Before his mind could plunge deeper into last night's event, Ian tensed up at the set ofshadow emerging on the sliding door. He had no idea where he was, and he felt unready toreceive a visitor, friendly or dangerous. But the shadow made no move to get any closer to


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the door, and it simply knelt on the hardwood-floored passage outside his room and satdown.

Studying the shadow, Ian gradually made out the visitor's long hair and slender frame. Herelaxed at the now familiar form, realizing that it was, indeed, Spencer. To his surprise, thevampire just sat on her heels, hands on her lap, remaining absolutely still. Judging from thesilhouette, Ian wasn't even sure if the vampire breathed at all. In the cold wind outside,Spencer appeared to have no intention to enter, or to leave.

Involuntarily, Ian's eyelids fluttered close again. With the vampire right outside his door,he strangely felt safer than he would ever admit.

Then he dreamt a slow, placid dream for the first time in many years. Under a darkening,pinkish sky, he saw himself walking on the surface of deep, dark water, the sight of a vastsea before and around him. He was alone, but he wasn't afraid as he should. An angelichymn ringing distantly in his ears, he kept walking ahead with a heart full of determination.He knew he would get theresomewhere.

When Ian opened his eyes again from what seemed to be hours of deep sleep, he found thesame set of shadow on his door, unmoving from the last time he recalled. He blinked a few

times, inwardly grunting at the vampire's persistence. For a werewolf, being in the cold airfor a long period of time was still a threatening idea. He would expect the same effect onvampires, even if they could perhaps endure it longer. All arguments aside, Spencer wasnot doing herself a favor by sitting there like a rock.

"Spencer" Ian finally called out.

No response.

"Spencer." Ian repeated louder, earning a slight turn of the head.

The shadow then moved closer, and the door slowly slid open. The widening gap betweenthe two white planes revealed the vampire's pale face and the huge moon behind, and for atime, Ian couldn't decide which was more arresting to behold.

Spencer was staring down at him, her gaze subtle in its usual intensity. Her serene exteriormatched the calm sea of crimson, and the moon hang high in the dark sky as a witness tothis rare harmony.

In a pair of tight black jeans and a long sleeved white vest , Spencer's long hair pooledaround her shoulders, unkempt from the wind. She turned to retrieve the black tray besideher and moved into the room.

On the tray were a large, black, ceramic bowl and a clean towel beside it. Spencerproceeded to take some hot water from the white, electric kettle, which Sally had organizedin the corner of the room, and mixed it with half of the water she had prepared from the

kitchen. The mixture of water should now be warm enough.

"What are you doing?" Ian asked, frowning.

Spencer moved beside Ian, knelt down and sat on her heels. The vampire looked very fittingin the pair of clothes she was wearing, but the fleeting discomfort in her eyes Ian hadcaught earlier suggested otherwise; Spencer didn't particularly enjoy wearing the outfit.


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When Spencer dampened the towel in the warm water and tried to wipe Ian's face, Ianquickly snatched the cloth from her. Spencer let him and quietly watched him wince in painat the rash movement of his arm.

"Shit" Ian grumbled. The effort proved to be too painful for him. He looked away from thesmile curving up on Spencer's lips, and sloppily spread the towel over his own face,shunning the vampire out of his sight.

"What's this place? How did I get here?" Ian stared up into the white cloth until he wascross-eyed. For some reason, he felt more lucid without Spencer's bold stare.

"It belongs to Sally's friend. I believe her name was Midori. They brought you here."

Ian could hear the rustling of Spencer's clothes and the soft mumbling that followed.Spencer even smelled of Jasmine.

Her hand is cold

"Wait. Why are you still here?" Ian blurted out in an attempt to clear his mind from noticing

a little too much about the vampire. But he regretted the question as soon as it came out ofhis mouth because Spencer's reply came a bit too fast for his liking.

"I'm here only because Sally pleaded me to. I'll be gone as soon as you recover." Spencer'sinert tone suggested the insignificance of her intention in staying.

But Ian stiffened when he felt a hand softly glide over his face, the wet cloth between theirtouch. The hand gently wiped his face, his ears, and down to his neck; it took very littledetour over his features and all the time to freshen every inch of his skin with moisture.When the towel was pulled off his face, Ian stared up at the vampire.

"I"

Spencer raised her brows and waited for him to continue.

"I didn't drink your blood, did I?" Ian frowned.

The questioning look on the vampire's face was then replaced by a blank one. "No, youdidn't, fortunately. I really can't afford the burden now," she said.

Ian's face grew cold at the choice of word. "Fortunately, I wouldn't want to be anybody'sburden either."

"So we're on the same page," Spencer said, her voice light with sincere relief. She wettedthe towel once more and turned to pull the blanket off Ian.

"Howhow did you find Sally?" Ian at once glanced down to see if his clothes were stillintact, unsure how to react to Spencer's nonchalant, almost robotic undertaking.

"The napkin you left in your coat's pocket got the restaurant's address on it." The vampiredrew up Ian's long sleeve, and began to rub his weak arm with the towel.

Eventually, Spencer noted Ian's rigid limb and glanced up from the task at hand. "Your

friends are still alive, if that's what you're worried about Although I supposed their bloodmay besweet."


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Inwardly pouting, Ian looked away from Spencer's wink at the last sentence. He wouldhave been worried by the statement if he didn't hear Sally's distant chatter a few hoursearlier. Before he could stop himself, he lightly pulled at Spencers vest, causing thevampire to stop from reaching out for his left leg.

"How did you get here? Your wounds?" Ian remembered that it was dawning before hepassed out in the woods, and he didn't think that Toby's blood alone could heal those nastyinjuries the Lycans left on the vampire last night.

"Sally had supplied me with some donated blood this evening. How very thoughtful of her,"Spencer said, smiling. But when Ian kept silent, she seemed to reckon the more importantquestion of the two. "I can fly really fast. You'd be surprised."

Certainly, Spencer appeared to be fine and healthy now. Her rare, playful tone also relievedIan to some extent.

Spencer moved a little further down the bed, losing Ian's grasp on her vest. She slightly

lifted Ian's leg and wiped the feverish skin with the towel. Ian had felt the dull ache all overhis shuddering body, and he was secretly thankful for the physical refreshment.

"Why didn't you just leave me there?" Ian couldn't help it. He couldn't imagine howSpencer could fly so fast in such a state.

But what struck Ian now was the quick absence of calmness in the crimson eyes. Spencercompressed her lips, glancing away almost in annoyance that she wouldn't drop thesubject.

"I could have handled Toby just fine. We're from different worlds, Spencer. I don't feelcomfortable having a vampire to help me around. You should have left me in the woods,and I'd be fine"

Ian stopped when his leg was slipped off Spencer's intentionally careless grip, and fell backdown on the bed. The mild movement sent a ball of fire through his abdomen, and hegroaned aloud at the pain.

"D-damn it!"

"You prove to be much more stubborn than your mother ever was," Spencer said, shakingher head. She edged towards the bowl and dampened the towel again.

"You don't have to do this because of my mother. She was never kind to you," Ian said.Although she disliked having to talk about his mother in such a way, he was only stating thetruth.

I never was

Spencer lightly sighed as she squeezed the towel to rid the water off it. "She used me, and Iused her. I supposed we were even in some ways."

At Spencer's confession of loneliness, Ian had to look away. He suddenly found it hard tosee even the subtlest hint of sorrow in Spencer's eyes. The vampire held such a strangepower over him for having known his mother, while Ian himself never had the chance to.

"I I think she never loved me or my father. I really think so Sometimes I even thinkthat she was a villain" Ian gazed up at the white ceiling. His blue jacket hang loosely off


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his shoulders and his legs were virtually bare on the bed, but he made no move to coverhimself.

For the first time tonight, he wasn't embarrassed by Spencer's stare upon him.

"It doesn't matter what she had done. She loved you more than you'd ever know, Ian. But

she had her demons. She was on a self-destructive path, so to speak. No one could havesaved her but herself."

Spencer put the folded towel over the tray and moved closer to Ian. She slipped one armunder Ian's back to draw him up into a sitting position. The act would have earned protestfrom the aching man, but Spencer held him very tightly. The pressure on his back acted as afirm and efficient support, while the lift was gentle and swift.

Now sitting on the bed, Ian didn't undergo much ache from the movement. Only when thecold hand left him that he started to feel the pain of gravity.

Her breath is cold

Ian's cheeks abruptly grew hot at his own inquisitive thought. He turned slightly to try tokeep his jacket from completely revealing his chest. Spencer didn't seem to mind, or evennotice his half-naked form; the vampire proceeded to pull the jacket down his back andrubbed the towel down his bare skin.

"Hold on. I'm almost done," Spencer mumbled as she continued fast, not wanting toprolong Ian in the uncomfortable position. "All right. Here we go," she said, tossing thetowel aside. She wrapped one arm around Ian's back again, pressed herself in very closely,and stiffly bent down to let Ian fall with her.

Ian was laid back down as painless and fast as he was brought upright. "All right Yeah"he breathed. He briefly glanced up at the pale face less than an inch above his. If heweren't mulling too much into it, the vampire seemed to linger a second too long beforeretreating away.

Her breath is warm now What the hell?

Wide-eyed, Ian watched Spencer quickly move away to refill some hot water from thekettle. He put his hands on his chest and asked, "I've noticed something, Spencer. Yourtemperature seems to rise and fall so fast like a thermometer. Is that generally how it iswith vampires? So strange."

Spencer looked up from the kettle for a moment, but then flinched as a hot drop spilledonto the back of her hand. "My I'm not sure what you're talking about," she muttered,moving back to Ian with the hot bowl. Head down, she continued to clean Ian's bare frontand legs, severely lacking the leisure speed and the vigilant tenderness she had carriedearlier.

"I mean I caught your err, your" Ian stammered. His words lingered at the tip of histongue and eventually trailed off when Spencer seemed uninterested in the subject.

When Spencer finished the task, she nodded to herself and turned away to retrieve the tray.

"Thathanks" Ian dazedly pulled his jacket up to cover himself. He then tried to reach forthe hem of the blanket. The air was getting colder as the night grew darker.


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"Ah, I'm sorry," Spencer said, having realized then that she had forgotten to cover Ian up.She hurried to pull the blanket over the horizontal form, all the while averting her gazeelsewhere.

"Ms. Thompson will be back by morning. You should get some sleep now," the vampire said,taking the tray and getting up to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Ian quickly asked before Spencer could slip out the door.

Stopping mid-step, Spencer turned around with a quizzical look in her eyes. "I'm going toinspect the area. I won't be too far."

Ian slightly clutched the blanket. "Where are you going to sleep?"

However, Spencer hesitated at the simple question, glancing the other way.

"You don't have to tell me. I can walk around in the morning and find you anyway," Iansaid, rolling his eyes.

"Ms. Anderson showed me the basement. Might I remind you that you're still in nocondition to walk around tomorrow? Get some rest, Ian." With that, Spencer walked out ofthe room and slid the door shut.

"Happy walking.Alone!." Ian spoke loudly, hoping for the vampire to catch it. But there wasno response. The set of shadow on his door had vanished as quietly as it came. "I hopeshe's got a bed in the basement and a blanket of cobweb. Yeah, that" he continued tomumble to himself.

Then Ian yawned and rubbed his eyes a bit. The uncomfortable warmth, which had nastilycrawled along his skin before, had now disappeared. He was truly grateful for it even if itwas only temporary. Although he wanted to act a little more with courtesy, Spencer'sabnormal paranoia just annoyed him. He had hoped that the vampire could have loosened

up a little around him.

But she's still here

The fact that Spencer had stayed, risking being around strangers, who could easily put himin harm's way, was something totally unexpected. Ian wouldn't bet it was only for hismother's sake, but to ponder of Spencer's action would leave him no more hours to sleep.Feeding himself with a pang of relief to know that the vampire would still be aroundtomorrow, he gradually lured himself into slumber again.

legend of the vampire (chapter 12: i'm not a hero)

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