My Vampire Assistant - Chapter 66

I woke up with a nightmare slowly dissolving in my head again and wished I could afford to keep my store closed for another day, but I had profits to make. I arranged for Panda to man the counter and braved the outside to get groceries and make a cursory walk through several of the nearest flea markets. It helped that the day was sunny and warm. No matter how false, I got some comfort from it.

Yesterday’s simmering anger abated in my chest, leaving a stubborn denial behind as I walked through the streets. It was especially stubborn since everything kept throwing reminders at me.

JJ’s invisible presence in the store. Even outside of it I couldn’t help but think about his current state of health, but was too afraid to ask and too stubborn to talk with him about it. Not to mention that I still had nightmares about his face. And his hair. I was pretty sure it won’t ever grow back. He didn’t have any facial hair, yet I didn’t see any razors except mine in the shower. Unless he used them for his face, he was permanently stubble-free.

Rita’s another invitation for a dinner. I accepted that one, but only after roping Panda into getting with us. In her presence, Rita wouldn’t talk about vampires. This way I would avoid talking about vampires AND chat with my friends. Though I was pretty sure that Rita would talk about JJ, anyway.

Christina, who sent me another message. This time I blocked the sender without reading it despite my morbid curiosity. It was better for my hard-found calmness. She sent me several more messages after that, but at sixth or seventh one appeared to give up. I hoped she won’t send me paper mail next. Would she send me a bomb in a package? That sounded way like what she could do for my liking.

I returned to the store with a backpack of knickknacks, some of which looked like they could be pretty valuable after restoring. I knew, though, that my grandma won’t be able to help me with all of them. She was great with paintings and clothes, but these required some metalworking for which she didn’t even have equipment. That meant I had to look for someone else to do the job and hope it won’t be too costly.

As I descended to the basement to shelve my findings, the metal coffin lying next to the wall caught my eye. JJ had covered it in a large sheet of fabric, but its rectangular shape was unmistakable. Despite all the time that passed since I last saw it uncovered, I could clearly imagine its metal walls covered in strange lines of the magic seal.

It made me suddenly curious. Nothing Alexandra taught me about magic told me that chanting spells or drawing pentagrams did witches any good. I realised suddenly that I had never thought to look at the coffin with my aura vision, and I wondered what I could find if I could learn to copy the design (to use on Christina later).

I hurried to put my new antiquities into boxes for safekeeping and stood next to the coffin. Without taking off the covering, I closed my eyes and opened my well to look.

In front of me, the coffin’s aura glowed with power. Not as bright as that of vampires, not even close, but brighter than that of the surrounding space. I inspected it with care, unravelling layer by layer like an onion.

The seal had a shape. The strange drawings on the coffin weren’t random—when I looked through my well I saw they were what gave the seal a part of its meaning. It was a net, in a sense. It held their victims tight no matter how they struggled, but was easy to open from the outside.

It was more complicated than just that, but a lot of it was smudged like watercolours with a wet sponge. My work, probably. I ventured deeper, inside of the coffin itself. Some bright, intense aspects called for my attention there.

I regretted looking almost immediately. They were all emotions. I noticed that phenomena before—items and places would sometimes hold emotional aspects to them, like a mental trace of people’s feelings. The cursed sketch I’ve bought a few weeks ago on a flea market had the most intense emotional aspects I’ve seen before—until now.

Fury akin to fire and sorrow akin to tar. Growing hunger. A hint of hope, shining but so tiny compared to other traces that I’ve almost missed it, engulfed in despair so crushing that I fell to my knees. Deep, dark fear. Resignation. And on top of it, much fresher than the rest, without frayed edges to it, more hunger.

I closed my well and took a shaking breath. This was an entire story. Did JJ really felt things that intensely, or were his emotional traces amplified by the power of his aura? It didn’t matter, I supposed. It was a lot of emotion either way.

After seeing this, it didn’t feel right to keep avoiding JJ. Even worse, forcing him to avoid me. I could be irked with him all I wanted, but it was hard to muster any serious anger now. It was easy to see why he avoided even mentioning Christina’s name before.

I stood up with renewed determination and shook dust from my knees. No matter how personal it was for JJ, it was just as personal for me now (thanks to him!). My time to ask for answers had come.

I stomped into the kitchen, the neutral zone of the house, and poured myself a cup of water to calm my nerves. When I regained my composure enough to be reasonably sure that I won’t start crying from either anger, fear or sympathy, I raised my head.

The temptation to raise my voice in order to not feel as awkward was great, but I forced myself to speak in a normal tone. He would hear me anyway. Unless he wasn’t outside of the house, in which case I would feel like a total moron, but there won’t be anyone to see it.

“JJ, come here! We have to talk.”