Secrets & Shadows

“W-what do you mean?” Siren chuckled nervously. “How did you know my name?” It seemed that me coming on like Ricky used to do to Lucy when he figured out her hijinks was much more than sobering for Siren.

“I think you know very well what and how,” I growled. “I’m at Prana Studios right now speaking with Mara Grace, the head of the Prana Tribe in this area.” Siren gave an audible gulp.

“She enlightened me on some information that you neglected to tell me,” I said.

“Oh, that,” Siren said, deflated. “I-I didn’t think that it-”

“You’re right, you didn’t think,” I scolded. “This was vital information that I could have used to research what was summoned from the ouija board.” I didn’t want Siren to panic as well in her anxious state by giving a name to what more than likely killed two of the people close to her.

“Furthermore,” I added. “ I could have used that information when figuring out how to get rid of the thing that has hurt you bandmates.” Though I couldn’t see her, obviously, I probably figured she was looking pretty embarrassed and hurt. I calmed my voice a bit.

“Look,” I said. “I’ll be over there in a little while. I’m really disappointed in you and I’m sorry for lashing out. But I’d like you to explain everything when I get there.”

“Yeah that won’t be a problem,” she said softly. I imagined Siren looking like a dejected teenager who just got caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing by her parents. Probably because I just sounded like one. I also felt like a total ass for going off the way I did.

We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. But, I wasn’t quite done yet. I picked the phone back up and dialed Detective Green’s desk. Hopefully he was still there.

“Kaw City Police. Detective Green speaking,” he said.

“Green, it’s Frost,” I said. “Quick question for you-,” Green cut me off.

“It better be quick I’m about to get off duty,” he said.

“I just wanted to ask if Eddy called to report his guitarist Thorn missing,” I said. I was really hoping Eddy took my advice. “It may be under the name Wendy McGovern.”

“Let me check,” he said with mild annoyance. I heard the clacking of his keyboard in the background as he looked through his database. “Yes, Wendy “Thorn” McGovern was reported missing just the other day. Was that all?”

“No, I also need to know if there have been any more bodies reported or brought in,” I inquired.

“Yeah we had a few more come in and they’re starting to become more brutal, but same MO.”

“Shit,” I said. “I guess we might have Leanan Sidhe to thank for helping with that.”

“That freaky half naked faery? How do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m not fully sure but I have a few theories. Remind me to tell you the details another time,” I didn’t wait for him to say anything further and hung up the phone.

I went back through the doors that led to the longer-than-it-should-be hallway, and began looking for Mara. After looking around I found she had moved into another one of the studios along the endless hallway and was speaking, I assume, with one of her producers as a scene was going on in front of them. Since it appeared this particular scene involved a Prana vampire, a male specifically, who looked like he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Puck ogled him as we entered the room, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Damn sexy vampires making my eccentric and weird sidekick silent and dumb with lust. On second thought, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

After I had spotted Mara and made a beeline for her. Sneaking up behind her I embraced her in a giant genuine hug. Why a hug you may ask? Well, I honestly and genuinely appreciated her help. And it was a lot of help! I would have zero leads and would be totally lost if it wasn’t for her.

Mara let out a noise that I would describe as a surprised mouse as soon as my arms were around her shoulders. I let go, maneuvered in front of her, placed my hands gently on her face, and gave her a short kiss on the lips. She gave another similar sound of a surprised mouse. I let go and grabbed her hands while giving them alternating kisses between words. “Thank you...thank you...so much.” Mara stood in place at a loss for words. Her mouth opening and closing, probably attempts to curse me or tell me off. I smiled as I let go of her hands. And she blushed. She probably wasn’t used to the loss of control or used to the attention she was getting from me while surrounded by her peers. But still, I freaking made a sex vampire blush! Cross that off the paranormal bucket list.

I grabbed Puck by his small ankle and pulled him out the door. “C’mon, Puck the game’s afoot!” I always wanted to say that.

Puck continued to stare at the performing vampire and flutter his wings, to keep him afloat in the air, and let out an affirmative “uh-huh” but definitely didn’t actually hear what I had said.

On my way out the front door I could have sworn I heard Mara curse my name with several variants on four letter words in a variety of languages I recognized, though I didn’t know the translation and a few that I just flat out did not know nor could I guess.

* * *

Puck and I arrived at the Gates Hotel a little while later. It had taken longer than normal as the car stalled a few times while in traffic. I’ll tell you, it’s a bit embarrassing being the cause of not one, but two traffic jams on the same road.

Despite the car trouble, I was feeling pretty up and confident after having made Mara blush like a nervous school girl. I also had to explain to Puck, for the third time, while attempting to both navigate traffic and undo a traffic jam, why this was nothing short of a major accomplishment and worthy of some sort of medal.

“Because, Puck,” I began to explain, again, slightly more annoyed than the last couple times while walking through the large parking lot to the front door of the hotel. “She doesn’t really know embarrassment or shame since all she does is use her…,” I tried to think of a better way than before to describe to Puck why Prana vampires don’t blush. “She uses her body, in a way that is psychologically weak to humans, mainly males, to get her way and to feed and gain sustenance. And since they don’t know embarrassment, because they will do any depraved act needed to feed, especially if they’re hungry enough, they don’t blush like humans would. And humans do it when they feel humiliated, ashamed or embarrassed.”

“Oh,” Puck drawled as the tiny gears in his head began to turn, “I think I get it,” he didn’t sound all that confident but I think he got the gist of it.

Puck and I strode into the hotel like we owned the place. The desk clerk from a few days ago, Erika, smiled and waved towards me. I’m sure she had forgotten all about that spell I had used to get information from her. I responded back with a similar smile and small wave. We continued forward and made our way in and up the elevator to the appropriate floor and room.

Eddy answered, as per usual. He looked sober for once and it seemed like he actually showered. What hair he had was slicked back again, his face cleanly shaved save for his bristly mustache. He looked just like the same frog-like person that walked into my office. Eddy was talking on a cell phone with someone, probably his boss for the first time since this all started.

“Hello? Are you there? Hello?” Eddy was attempting to talk over, what I assume, was static on his phone. I’m kind of surprised his cellphone worked at all with me being right in front of him. He didn’t seem at all shocked, or pleased, to see me but I think he knew I was probably there for a reason so he waved me in. While Eddy gestured to me to come in he moved to the window to get a better signal. As I crossed the threshold into the adjacent room where Siren and Grunt were waiting for me I could hear Eddy get reception back and was extremely grateful he didn’t drop the call.

I walked into Siren and Grunt’s room and carefully closed the door behind me. Once I turned around from closing the door, I was met with a wall of muscle. Grunt stood in front of me looking much bigger than he usually looked when he sat down. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen him standing at all since I met him. He towered over me, he easily had about half a foot on Detective Green and about a hundred more pounds of muscle.

“Boss?” Puck said, looking in awe on my shoulder.

“Yeah, Puck?” I whispered back, the same expression on my face.

“This one is really big, huh?”

“That’s a very astute observation, Puck,” I whispered in a deadpan voice. “He is indeed very big.”

Grunt bent down, “Got something to say, asshole?” he asked sternly. Before I could reply with my best smartass remark a small lyrical voice chimed in with a voice just as stern. Similar to a mother scolding her child.

“Grunt, back off!”

Both Grunt and I looked at where the sound had come from. Siren was walking out of the bathroom drying her hair in a towel while wearing an undersized bathrobe tied carefully around her so as to not be overly revealing and as modest as possible.

We all stopped and checked that out for a moment.

Grunt shook his head to collect his thoughts. “But, he was being more of an asshole than before!” he said.

“And I said back off!” Siren said slightly more sternly than before in a very musical voice. Grunt hung his head in defeat and sat down. “Now leave us alone and lock the door behind you.” He got up and immediately obeyed the command given to him without a word. He opened the door to the adjacent room, where Eddy could still be heard on the phone, then closed and locked it.

‘Damn, that is some power,’ I thought to myself. ‘Mara wasn’t kidding that it was just like the pied piper.’

Siren sat down at the desk chair as I grabbed an extra chair and sat opposite of her. She continued to dry her hair absentmindedly with her towel. “So that thing from the Ouija board was just some small game poltergeist of sorts?” Siren said sheepishly.

“Sure was,” I said. “Just a harmless little thing that liked to play dirty tricks it thought was funny. But, they get bored easily and just go away.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Siren said. “We haven’t had anything odd happen lately. Save for…,” Siren’s voice trailed off remembering her lost lovers and comrades.

I quickly tried to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell me who you really are,” I said sitting in my chair across from her, crossing my legs comfortably, getting ready for a lot of information.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “It seems you already know who I am.”

“There’s a difference in knowing what a computer tells you, and how a bard tells you,” I said. Siren let out a small giggle.

“Tell me your story,” I said.

She sighed, realizing she wasn’t getting out of an explanation. She wrapped her hair up in the towel to free her hands. “Sure,” she said. She gestured with her hands as if confused. “Where do I even start?”

“The beginning is usually a great spot,” I replied.

Siren sat up in her chair and cleared her throat getting ready to start her tale.

“Oh, by the way,” I said. “None of that voice magic when telling your story. If I feel the slightest influence from you I will not hesitate to turn you in to your own kind. I can’t imagine what things they may do to you for being in hiding for so long.”

Yes, I lied to her as to what I would do if she tried to pull a fast one. But hey, sometimes you have to draw a line in the sand, even if it is a bluff.

Siren pouted, damn she looked good doing it too. “You’re no fun,” she said disappointed. Siren sighed, clearing her head and began her story and the story of her order.

Our order had come up from nothing. We began as a scattered peasant class within the Prana Tribe in the middle ages. Most were just serfs but some were lucky enough to act as village story tellers, minstrels, dancers, entertainers and court jesters.

Back then the lowest class of the Prana Tribe, who were called something to the effect of ‘undesirable’, would naturally be hungry and starving since they couldn’t eat actual food and were too inept at the time to properly feed. So when they were able to get a hold of a human, several would gang up to satisfy their hunger and it was almost always fatal.

Stories among the humans spread of creatures that would drain the life out of you. Different variants sprung up and caught on like wildfire. People started sleeping with daggers, or small blades and barring their doors at night, making it nearly impossible for our kind in the lower caste to feed. We eventually found out that we could use our vocal talents to draw crowds to us and feed without killing any humans. This was obviously found to be preferable than to gang up on people. Thus, after a number of years, the whole of the Bard Order was eventually established.

We showed the Kings Order, the governing body of the Tribe, over the decades and century or two how we could be of use to them. We used our voices and commanded armies for them. Helped start wars and finish them as well. We eventually became so confident and powerful with our ability that we decided to stop following the orders given to us. We took our armies and established our own homes and monarchies. It kind of corrupted us.

That’s where I come in and my own story begins:

I was born in the city of Versailles in France. Specifically born into the height of the aristocracy of the early 1700s. In actuality, the whole of the monarchy and aristocracy of that time was the entirety of the Bard Order that resided within France. We had used our influences, bodies and voices to eventually condense ourselves into one monarchy. We had anything we wanted, when we wanted it, and how we wanted it without question.

It was a wonderful time to be alive at that point, at least from our perspective, of course.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, the other Orders within the Prana Tribe were plotting against us. They thought that we, the Tribe as a whole, should live more discreetly and hide in plain sight, rather than indulge in life as much as possible and be so open with ourselves. I lived in different castles and chateaus throughout my youth, enjoying the lifestyle. Unaware of anything negative around me. I lived only for myself.

When I came into my early twenties, that is when the Kings Order made its move to take us out. They had orchestrated a revolt, a revolution. The working class humans were, apparently, angry with us for one reason or another, but we were keeping them under boot.

The Kings Order had given all the other Orders a mission to help the humans. They had given the working class humans knowledge, manpower, weapons, some money and most of all, opportunity. The workers were given their chance and after a few days of riots and fighting in the streets, the Bastille fell.

During the fighting, most of us had escaped in one way or another. Marie Antoinette was one of the few that fell behind and were captured. I had used tunnels to get into the sewers and navigated to safety to the edge of town. There I met my carriage driver who took me to a rendezvous location, a chateau in the countryside. It was somewhat of a safe house with beds and clothing. Once we finally caught our breath and laid low for a few days without incident we knew we were probably safe. We were able to stop and think and comprehend what had happened and the few of us that were at the safe house grieved.

We had lost our family and friends. I suppose it was a bit harder on some of the others as they were much older than I was at the time.

We all parted ways and split up so we weren’t able to be followed as easily. I eventually found my way to Spain, where I stayed for about a century. Moving from city to city about once a decade, I came back to the major cities like Madrid and Barcelona about every twenty years. I worked as a dancer and entertainer just so I didn’t have to live on the streets and could feed when I felt like it. I couldn’t afford to ask the help of strangers as I could not tell who might have been a spy. I realize now that it was pretty foolish of me to think that, when the rest of the Tribe thought I was dead anyway.

After a while, there were more revolts and battles there too. By this time it was the middle of the 1800s. I had heard that the civil war had ended here in the States and, at that time, thought it would be a good time to go there for all the new opportunities everyone was talking about.

I continued my career as an entertainer in New York and Chicago. I was able to eventually move further west until I came to California near the turn of the century. I went back and forth between San Francisco and Las Angeles, still singing in bars to make ends meet.

When the roaring twenties came about I decided to throw a bit of caution into the wind and gathered up all the money I was saving, since I wasn’t using much of it aside from clothes and rent, and bought fancier dresses and outfits. I started singing at burlesque clubs and became a bit of a local celebrity.

People, mostly men of course, would buy me clothes, and jewelry. I even had the mayor of LA even buy me a house. I still own it too. I just tell anyone visiting that it was inherited from my grandmother.

After a while, and gaining much popularity, I was performing for a small and very crowded room at a speakeasy during prohibition when I looked out into a crowd. I recognized markings on the arm of a couple of men who were near the stage who were clearly from the Tribe. I quickly finished my set, went backstage to get paid. The owner even had the balls to short me on my pay.

But I didn’t care, I just wanted out of there. For all I knew the two men I saw in the crowd had tracked me down and wanted to kill me, just like they did the others a couple centuries before. I had thought I was safe and didn’t know they were still hunting us.

I ran out the back door, cash in hand, and ran down a couple blocks and flagged a taxi. I told him to take me home and gave him my earnings for the day, which was much more than the fare and probably the biggest tip he’d receive in his life. Once I was home, I ran inside and didn’t go back outside for the rest of the day. I canceled all my shows for the whole month and stayed inside.

I didn’t want to take the chance that I was discovered after nearly two centuries of running and hiding. I couldn’t help thinking what could have drawn them to me. Was it my over ambitiousness of wanting to have more than just a bed to sleep on? Was the fame getting to me and I was getting careless? I was in a panic, so I became a homebody for years.

I came out of the house every so often, incognito, just to make sure that I didn’t starve. I’d brush against someone just to get a bit of energy. I was only getting enough energy just to survive.

I lived like that for decades. Half starved. A shell of what I was. My skin cracked, my hair was dry and brittle, my face sunken. This went on until a few years ago when I was out for my “feeding”, for lack of a better term, and happened across a flier on a pole. It was a start up band with no name looking for a singer. Something sparked inside of me then, I didn’t know what it was but the muses of music moved me and told me to go and audition for them. I took a tab off of the flier, went home and called them right away.

An audition was set up for later in the week. I made sure that I was able to actually feed to look my best. Then I auditioned and the rest is history up until now.

* * *

Siren sat there solemnly, looking grave. She had taken her hair out of the towel during her story. Her hair had dried and sat around her shoulders. She kept herself barely wrapped up in the robe, and sat very still and almost emotionless. I couldn’t get a read on what she was feeling. I looked over at the digital clock sitting on the nightstand. I saw it was getting towards evening at 4PM. I guess she really did have a natural talent of storytelling to keep people enthralled. I thought and made sure I chose my next words very carefully.

“So, how does a Prana vampire barely survive for sustenance? Shouldn’t just getting a little bit of energy from a crowd, one person at a time, be enough?” I asked.

“Let me put it in perspective for you,” Siren said with all the love and warmth of a torture master. “Imagine you’re running through the desert dying of thirst, you find an oasis, only to have that oasis nearly dry up as you approach it and you’re only able to lap up the last few drops of water to keep you alive.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. “Wow,” is all I could manage to say. I decided to change the subject quickly. “So, after you joined the band, you started getting gigs and started feeding on the crowd’s collective energies again like the old days, right?”

“That’s the short version of the recent events, yes,” Siren said. Her face was still as stone. What was this girl thinking? I examined quickly, but as closely as I could. It didn’t seem like her hair or skin was going white, and her eyes were definitely still their normal stormy gray color.

“So out of curiosity,” I began. “When did your mark and your thrall’s marks come in?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said, perking up. “The marks are given to vampires when their body has fully grown and stopped aging. This is usually around age eighteen to twenty. So I had just gotten mine before my life was turned upside down.

“The thrall marks that were added to my lovers were all done via tattoo parlors.”

“Just any tattoo shop?” I asked, astonished.

“Oh no,” she replied. “There are special shops that will do it. Normally they ask for proof in the form of a tribe brand. But for fear that they may use it against me, I used my voice to weasel my way around that.”

“Well, I suppose that wasn’t such a bad idea,” I said. Though it did seem awfully convenient. “Can other Prana vampires succumb to your voice?” I had to make sure.

“To an extent. Not like humans who will just do what I want,” she said. “It’s more of a strong suggestion when it hits other Prana vampires.”

“Thank you for telling me your story,” I said. “Now you’re sure that there isn’t anything else that you might be forgetting to tell me?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ll call if I remember anything.”

“Thanks again for coming clean with everything.”

Puck fluttered up between Siren and I pointing a scolding finger at her. “Yeah, how dare you deceive us you-you,” Puck seemed as if he was struggling to find the words. “You beautiful, dark, lovely, creature!”

Siren raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if that was meant as a compliment or a pleasant insult but, thank you?”

“You’re welcome!” Puck said sternly as he silently flew back to me.

“Sorry about him. He’s a bit…,” I said trying to find the right euphemism. “Special.”

“Oh, it’s alright,” she said. “Taken with a grain of salt as they say.”

I got up to leave when I felt a tug on my arm.

“Mr. Frost, please help end whatever hurt Thorn and Ghost. They’re more than just lovers and bandmates, they’re my family. I miss them.”

“I’m trying,” I said. “I’m not sure if any of the information you gave me will help, but I’ll see how it could tie in.”

“You’re welcome. Also, it’s ok to call me Nina.”

“Alright, Nina,” I said smiling. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”

Puck and I left through her door, rather than going back to Eddy’s door so as to not anger Grunt any further. He already seemed pretty upset and he was too big to mess with right now.

We left the hotel and got back to the car and headed out to see Cassandra once more.

“Why are we going to Cassandra’s place again, sir?” Puck asked.

“Well I have an idea I want to float past her and I think she will like it,” I said with a smirk. At least I hope she will like it.

* * *

“You want to do WHAT!?” Cassandra ejaculated. She was very animated while she spoke. She only ever did this when she was really upset. She was pacing the length of the bar back and forth, her hair getting tossed everywhere with every about-face turn. “What the fuck were you thinking? Do you know how many of my Coven’s bylaws you would be breaking with your harebrained scheme?” It had seemed that Cassandra did not like my idea after all, to say the least.

“That’s definitely not the reaction I was hoping for,” I said stunned. “Especially for something as harmless as an idea.” We had arrived at Cassandra’s Tavern just a few minutes before. As we were walking in Cassandra had just finished pouring a thimble of mead for Puck and a beer for me as per usual. The bar was empty save for the three of us, and a lot darker than normal too. All the lights were on, but everything just seemed dark and ominous. Like a shadow was overlooking and surrounding the room.

“That’s not just a ‘harmless idea’, Lance! It has serious consequences! How, exactly, did you think I would react?” Cassandra said, still visibly upset, slamming her hands on the bar top while her black wavy mane fell into her face, a bright green light flashed in her eyes.

“Honestly, I thought you’d be elated at the thought of possibly being able to leave your prison cell,” I said calmly sipping my beer. Puck had laid down on the bartop drowning in euphoria, his stomach bulging, full of Cassandra’s special Faery Mead.

“I never said that I hated the idea, Lance,” Cassandra sighed, smoothing out her hair, putting every last lock back in its proper place and collecting herself. She once more looked like the beautiful, sultry, busty bartender I knew. “But you’re definitely asking for a lot of trouble and who knows what would happen once the Coven finds out what you had planned?” She wrapped her arms around herself, under her bust, and shuttered. “I don’t even want to think about what they might do.”

“Look,” I said leaning in closer to her. “I know the idea scares you, it worries me too, but I have a feeling I’m going to need your help. And you’re the only other magic user in this town, that I know of, that I can trust with my life.”

Cassandra paced slowly behind the bar, again, thinking and still holding onto herself and being careful to not mess her hair again. Finally she looked towards me, placed her hands behind her and leaned against the back of the bar, “Fine, I’ll help you if you need it. But, I get to blame you for anything bad that happens. Got it?”

“Deal,” I told her. I finished my beer and Cassandra took my glass and Puck’s thimble. “Alright, Puck, let’s go home. We have research to do and a certain winter faery to question.”