Chapter 31: Lost Highway

  Amelia showed up in a light metallic blue two-door convertible. It was practical in that you could load the trunk with at least four corpses and still have room for weapons. The car was fairly old with a long hood to fit an LCM fueled engine Mabel called a Rocket 455. It had four headlights and a chrome bumper tucked fairly close to its wide grille.

  With Mabel having the highest driving skill by far, she was elected to drive while Amelia and I cuddled on the rear bench seat. It was actually pretty comfortable all things considered. Like sitting on a nice velvet chair with large cushions I could sleep on. A fresh and crisp midnight air flowed in through the partially open side windows.

  We were only slightly worried about being spotted by the cops. They'd be looking for three women travelling together on foot, not in a car. Honestly, I don't know if they even knew what Amelia looked like, but her hair wasn't hard to hide.

  The dryad’s leaf-filled hair engulfed my fingers as I stared in confusion at her. It was odd. She had a full head of regular hair, but the strands were thicker than usual and oak leaves grew as if they were thin branches, not hair. And the leaves were so vivid I wondered, “Why didn't you buy a green car?”

  “Because the blue is just as pretty as the sky.” She giggled softly as she leaned in and pecked a light kiss against my lips. The two of us cuddled as close as we could get. One arm wrapped around each other and holding our hands. I leaned against the passenger arm rest and allowed Amelia to rest on me.

  She might not need sleep, but she could use the cuddles. I could use them, and never let Amelia go. Mabel could drive to the end of the Earth and I'd still be holding onto my beautiful rose.

  I listened to the big block’s hum as we floated down the highway at just over the speed limit. Mabel didn't want to attract too much attention, but Amelia’s new purchase was quite the head turner. From the rumbling dual exhaust to the sharp lines and immaculate paint, she found a gem of a car.

  Even Mabel liked the car, as she commented, “It drives nice. Do you mind me asking where you found a Legendary Cutlass Supreme in this condition?”

  “Hm?” Amelia turned to look at the half-elf and cocked her head a bit. “I saw an ad in the newspaper about a hard to find barn-kept car at a reasonable price.”

  My eyes fluttered as I listened to the conversation, because since when did Amelia know what was reasonable for a car’s price? I don’t even know what a reasonable price for a car is!

  Mabel glanced over her shoulder at Amelia, eyebrows raised. “Melia, you know this car is from the Other World, right?! Like, it’s hella expensive! How much did you pay?”

  “Not much, why?”

  “The last Cutlass I saw sold for two million credits at auction. And that was like six years ago. There hasn't been one on the market since!”

  “Is seventy thousand gold a lot?”

  “Melia…” Mabel whined as her gaze softened, sounding defeated. “Melia… Do you know how much gold that is? You could’ve bought an armored space yacht for that!” The half-elf looked ahead again, then down at the speedometer. Everything about the car was mechanical; from the analog gauges to the AM radio, to the split seats up front and the lack of any electronic nagging devices.

  “It costs as much as an airship…?” Amelia twirled her finger through her hair for just a moment.

  Mabel shook her head from side to side. “It’s in the past. Does it run off LCM or gasoline?”

  “Well, they said there had to be some modifications done to the engine and fuel tank to allow it to run off LCM, but it works. I filled it up earlier with Frosted Lightning while I was driving around town, as that’s what the previous owner said to use.”

  “Frosted Lightning costs so much… That's racing fuel!” Mabel groaned, slowly moving her hand down to rest on the automatic shifter between the two front seats. “We shouldn't even be driving this car, Melia. Like, it's for someone’s collection, not people like us!”

  With me forgotten for the moment, Amelia leaned ahead and rested one arm on each of the front seats, eyes locked right on Mabel. “What kind of racing? Is it like horse racing where they run from one point to another?”

  “There's oval, drag, street drag, rally, road course, endurance, everything.”

  “What’s street drag?”

  “Two cars line up on a road, a guy casts a light spell and you race to the finish.”

  “And how much money is there to be made?”

  “Uh… the last winner of a big event took home five thousand gold. But they probably spent three times that much to win.”

  Oh no… I looked up from staring at the floor, blinking a few times. “Please don't get into automobile racing, Melia. I don't want you gambling your gold away.”

  Amelia grinned in the way only she could. A devious grin that said her mind was already made up on the matter and all I could do was follow along. Which, of course I’d do anything for her.

  I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “Fine… you can bet on the races.”

  *** ***

  The uneventful drive through the woods passed by fairly quickly thanks to me introducing Amelia to The Tortuga Chronicles starting from episode one. But, by the time we were halfway through the first episode, she waved a hand across the phone and spoke.

  “Is there anything else? Perhaps a movie following animals?”

  “Just tell me before you guys click on anything about rabbits,” Mabel muttered as the Cutlass roared down the highway. The suspension was nice and comfy, as was the seat, but even I could feel how stiff the old car was. It handled, and looked, like a boat riding on the river as we wound our way through the hills.

  “Why?” I blinked a few times at that.

  Mabel shivered visibly. She was taking the long way, because a pair of headlights had crept up behind us and hung a quarter mile back. At least according to her. I had no reason to doubt the half-elf’s vision, because Eva’s skillset told me that something didn't feel quite right.

  Neither Amelia nor I could tell you what car they belonged to. They were a pair of dots and we didn't know them that well. So if Mabel said they were following us then they belonged to a car following us. I pulled the revolver from my shoulder holster and checked the cylinder to be sure it was still fully loaded.

  Someone had loaded it so the hammer rested on an empty chamber. This made me tilt my head at my beautiful rose, because I loaded all five rounds into it, not four.

  She smiled at me and reached out to pat my cheek. “Yes?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “How did the fight go?”

  “It was like trying to nail snow to the wall. She wouldn't stay put and kept flinging fireballs at me, thinking I’d run, but…” Amelia waggled her finger with a smirk. Then pulled a ring from her pocket and showed it to me. “She should have known better.”

  My eyes widened upon seeing the bone wedding band. I know she mentioned taking the Dark Sorceress’s arm off, but seeing the proof in the flesh was something else. Slowly, I took it from Amelia and held it up to the light. “You actually did it…”

  Amelia’s smirk turned into a full on grin. “Her scream was beautiful when I took the ring. She called me a two-bit whore fit for the plague piles. As if that bothers me when I’ve spent the last two centuries as a ghost! Forgive me, my lovely night blossom, but your sire is an open door to the powder hold.”

  The ancient ring had been worn smooth from centuries of daily wear. Isabella loved that ring and never went anywhere without it. Much like my rosaries. Hopefully, my new rosaries will bring us good luck, but I doubt it. I never had good luck, because my luck was always quite poor.

  Now I had Isabella’s wedding ring from when she was mortal during the Black Death in the 1300s. She never really spoke of her mortal life. I doubted she remembered any of it now. There were bits and pieces shared when she bit into an opium laced mortal and became quite chatty. Such as her hiding herself as a man in the Marseilles city guard. That was well before my time and I dare not ask her about it when she was sober.

  I don't want anything to do with the woman anymore. Hell, it didn't make sense to stay any longer. So we ran rather than fall under the Dark Sorceress’s thumb again. Amelia could come if she was correct in saying that she just needed bits of her grove with her. If that was correct.

  “Right?” I asked Amelia, then added, “Isabella doesn't know you are bound to a tree?”

  Amelia shook her head. “She believes I am reincarnated. Just as she believes you to be the reincarnation of her husband.”

  “A reincarnation of her husband? Preposterous!” I lifted an eyebrow as the Cutlass went around an easy left hand turn and pushed me into Amelia’s side.

  “What do you mean, preposterous? I came back as a tree! Anything is possible.” Amelia took her seat to my left and folded her arms across her chest. She didn't wear a seatbelt when driving or riding as a passenger. I was accustomed to it when it was explained what would happen should I not. But, Amelia is Amelia. She’ll learn on her own.

  Amelia added, “You know how she is about those things.”

  “She is absurd.”

  The dryad smiled at me for a short moment. Then her eyes went to my revolver and the smile faded. It likely dawned on her just what we were doing and what was at stake, because it had been two hundred years for Amelia and less than a month for me. And now I have my sire’s wedding ring in my hand. An item she cherished for nearly a thousand years. Something she’d want back. Something that would always remind me of her. I felt like mailing it back to her so she'd have closure, but at the same time. The window was right there.

  But I had to give the ring back to Isabella. She'd want it back. I had to be a good little fledgling and give her what was rightfully hers. There was no questioning it. Amelia shouldn't have taken the ring. I shouldn't have tried to fight. I should have let her take me back to the station, because Isabella knew better.

  Right?

  I slapped myself and shook my head. No, she did not know better. She was an angry, manipulative bitch who would keep me under her thumb, but I had to listen to her. I could feel it deep within me that I had to find her. I had to listen to what she said.

  I unbuckled the seatbelt and leaned toward the passenger seat, hand outstretched as I tried to grab the window winder. My hand froze as it gripped it.

  What if Isabella wanted the ring back? I'd have to give it to her. It was a sacred momento from ages past. Something stopped me from moving my hand. I don't know what it was, because it wasn't my two partners. They were watching me. I just know that I couldn't move my hand as a headache burned across my forehead.

  Return the ring, I heard her say.

  No.

  Do it, fledgling. That is not yours to keep. I don't know how you took it from my hand, but give. It. Back.

  It's just a ring?

  And those are pretty glasses on your nose. What if I took them? You wouldn't like that, would you? This is not a game, fledgling. You are my servant and you will listen to me or I will throw you to the wolves. Do you want them to tear you apart?

  I frowned, because of course I wouldn't like that. I needed my glasses to see properly. I'd be practically blind without them. What, with seeing triple for words and fuzziness around different shapes. But my sire wasn't here, she wasn't in my head, except in my memories. Yet, something willed me to hold on to the ring.

  Call it… a part of me that yearned for the days she and I were friends, but were we ever truly friends when I was guzzling her addictive blood? Or just master and slave?

  I grit my teeth as I cranked the window down, the voice screaming in my head, pleading for me to stop. I had to listen to her. I had to hear her words, follow her commands, but no more! I will not listen to her, I will not bend a knee, and I most certainly won't drink her blood.

  As a cold wind pushed through the open window and blew my hair around, I threw the ring into the ditch. There was no going back. Not now, not ever. Whatever fate befell Caleb and Lyra is their own doing, not mine. For I needed to forge my own path and to do that I had to leave my sire’s city.

  I slumped back in my seat and looked at my trembling hands. How my long dead heart raced with fear of what she would do to me when she realized just what I’d done to the ring.

  All I could do was cover my face with my hands and breathe like a fucking mortal. Amelia gently rubbed my shoulders and whispered something I didn't hear.

  *** ***

  We stopped at a fuel station to refill the car somewhere somewhere out in the big valley beyond the hills. And boy, did Amelia’s Cutlass attract attention from the attendant, someone else fueling up, and the car that had been following us.

  The valley was all flatlands with practically nothing to see until the Sierra Nevadas less than a day’s drive away. We were on a road somewhere with a small cutout for a single shack and two sets of pumps; both selling the same grade of LCM, which was basic Lightning. Though, someone had paved the parking lot fairly recently, as the ground was as dark as a moonless night.

  Mabel handled the fueling and kept an eye on the pump as a car pulled off the road with a small single axle trailer behind it. It was older, more rounded, painted a bright orange. I cocked my head at the odd bubbly shape. It was like a stretched out and taller version of Mabel’s car. Upbeat country music flowed from open windows and danced in my soul, willing me to follow along.

  There was one person inside and they looked… tired. A man, I think. It wasn’t Carlisle, as they were far, far too pale for that. Wasn't that one retainer I encountered some weeks back either.

  The other car rumbled up to the fuel pump, small trailer squeaking and clattering with the bumps. It went past us just slightly and came to a stop with the trunk in line with the pump. Thin front tires looked quite odd to me, as did the large cutout for bigger rear tires that weren't there. It was even lifted off the ground, but not enough to match Caleb’s pickup for height. Just enough that I noticed it, because those massive wheel wells dwarfed the current tires, which looked weird.

  I looked back the way we’d come from when the driver opened the door. Biting my lip, I allowed my fangs show, as I was thirsty like always and Mabel was near enough that I wanted to bite her neck.

  Amelia approached me as she twirled her hands and said, “Do you know what I got you?”

  I shook my head from side to side.

  “Ta-dah!” Amelia grinned, sliding a 24oz blood can from the aether between her hands. “Behold! I present you the most delicious of meals. This…” She turned the can around to read the label, mouthing it as confusion crossed her face. “SymCo pineapple flavored imitation blood. The finest drink this side of… a mortal…? By the Moon, I can drink this?!”

  Her eyes fluttered in clear confusion, then went back and forth as she read the can again, and again, her heartbeat rapidly increasing.

  “I can drink blood…?”

  “Did you buy lite blood? Mortals can drink that.” I reached for the can.

  Amelia recoiled, clutching the can like a baby as her eyes widened. “Lite…? Wait, wait, wait! Are you being serious?! I can actually drink this stuff? Does it taste like blood?!”

  “No.”

  “Pineapples?”

  I shrugged.

  Mabel giggled. “It tastes worse than cough syrup.”

  “Hello!” a voice called out from the other car. I looked over at the man with long hair and grimy overalls. He waved a bit and added, “Nice Cutlass. How’s she run?”

  Mabel half-shrugged, still holding onto the fuel nozzle, because the Cutlass wasn't like modern cars. It had a hinged license plate to hide the fuel filler cap from prying eyes. A devious location if I ever saw one. I wouldn't have been able to figure it out and then had a person make a fool of me.

  “It runs nice,” Mabel said quietly. “How’s your car run?”

  The driver shrugged. “Not bad. Y’all know the race got shut down, right?”

  Mabel shook her head. “What race?”

  “You mean you don't got a tablet in that car?” The driver pointed toward Amelia’s car.

  Amelia handed me the blood can and walked toward the man, asking, “What do you mean by a tablet? Please, explain it as if I don't know what you are talking about.”

  The can cracked open with a crisp warm hiss, indicating that she had grabbed one from the shelf rather than the fridge. Hell, Amelia might not even know that fridges exist. I only know of them because I debated on buying one and decided that no, I don't need one, but then my apartment came with one and it was useful as a storage unit.

  “You got a cell phone, right?”

  Amelia blinked for a moment, then took her phone out. “Yes.”

  “Tablets are bigger cell phones.”

  “Is there a ‘website’ for these races?”

  The man nodded. “Kinda, yeah. I thought you all knew where the race was.” He shrugged. Then walked around to the rear of his car and pulled the pins holding his trunk down. He pulled the lid off, set it aside and revealed a pair of treadless tires, a jack, and other tools along with a fuel tank.

  Mabel shook her head. “Nah. We’re heading north to meet someone.”

  Amelia walked over to the man’s car and inspected it closely, humming softly to herself as she held her hands behind her back. She peered in through the passenger window, cocking her head. “Only two seats?”

  “Any more is too much weight,” the man replied.

  I glanced over at Mabel, who merely shrugged. If there was one thing you didn't interrupt Amelia during, it was when she was being curious. Because her keen eye would spot things most normal people don't spot. Such as, ‘Yes, you are as pale as a noble, and dress like one, but you do not breathe or blink. Nor do your fingers twitch. Ergo you are a vampire. Now, may I inquire as to your services? I would like to look pale.’.

  She could read me like an open book. Just as I suspect she could read that other car like an open book if she knew what she was looking at.

  The man chuckled to himself. “Well, you all wanna race?”

  Amelia’s head snapped in the man’s direction, eyes wide. “What kind?!”

  “We’re good,” Mabel replied. “Like, we need to get to Gastown quickly.”

  “Mind if I tag along? Ain't been up that way before.”

  I checked my phone for messages and didn't see any from Lyra beyond a thumbs up to the message I sent her about how I was leaving Encinar. Putting the phone away, I shrugged and gestured toward Mabel. “What do you think?”

  Mabel shrugged. “Doesn't matter to me.”

  Amelia spun around as she gasped. “What are the stakes?”

  The man finally stuffed the fuel nozzle in his tank and smiled. “Last car there buys a tank of fuel and dinner for the winner.”

  “But it's just you,” Mabel pointed out. “Like, are you gonna be fine on a drive like that?”

  The man half-shrugged. “I’ll be fine with help from a toothpick. It's just two days along the expressway. Unless we’re planning to take back roads?”

  “I have a map!” Amelia rushed over to her car, flung open the passenger door until it hit the stops and opened the glove box. “Let us plan the route and see what's needed. We can arrange another driver if needed.”

  “What about the cops?” I asked.

  “Don't tell them we’re racing,” Mabel said as she tapped the fuel nozzle on the filler neck, letting the last bit of blue glowing liquid dribble into the tank. “They’ll impound the cars if they know and we don't want that.”

  Amelia spread her map out across the trunk and we began to plot our next adventure. But not one that involves vampires or sire's forcing their will on their fledglings, but one I chose to be a part of. One that I wanted to do because it was something new. Something unique compared to the old days. A race from Encinar to Gastown. Nearly 1,200 miles across the back roads, over a ferry from one island to the next, and then down the mountain into a new life.

  It was enough to make me shake in terror at not having a lifeline to call on if things became hectic, but I had Mabel, I had Amelia. We didn't need the bitch anymore.

  We are our own vampire and we're going to prove it.

  End Transmission.