Chapter 1: Steps to Ward (second half)
UPDATE: If you're new here, please find the story at its new home (also in the comments): https://www.wattpad.com/story/318690675. This is (loosely) the transcript for the podcast and does not reflect the current story.
✶✝ If anything feels inauthentic, feel free to let me know. Also, this isn't meant to be a religious story, any more than Dracula can be said to be a religious story, so please, don't take it too seriously in that regard.
Also also, I understand some people see random unsightly indentations in some of the chapters. If you'd like to lend me your iDevice so I can see and fix them, message me for my home address. ✶✝
A static of music came first. Jared moaned and reached for the alarm clock where it tittered under the bed, but it was lodged in the precise center of the springs supporting the mattress, as close to him as possible without being in reach of his fingertips. He pulled the pillow over his head, a wave of drowsiness sweeping him under.
One of the school gang's a wolf. Gotta make sure it's not Rose. Hurry. Hurry up. Before the guards come. Castle guards. Got orders to take me alive.
Now where was he...?
Rose was there, with that shining grin she reserved for the times he wasn't being an idiot, but now there was another noise—a beeping, so annoying—Lou had materialized and was beeping about newspaper orders. He was across the room, but Jared pushed the pillow harder over his ears and went back to Rose, who was floating over the bog. He really needed to explain how dangerous that was.
He had almost reached her when there was something irritating, like a car alarm, bleating, blaring, trying to distract him—where was he? Orderlies. Yes. Castle orderlies. It was hot now, and hard to breathe.
A ringing came next—tinny, insistent, difficult to blot out. His nose was full of bedsheet. But Rose was important. He groaned and kicked the blanket down. Mustn't be distracted. Rose had to know, before the fever came. He had to tell her—
A fifth distraction started, a proper clamor, a metal monstrosity with a tiny hammer whizzing between two golden bells. The one the neighbor complained about. Jared sat bolt upright, eyes closed, and launched the pillow at the alarm clock, but it was angled under the cabinet legs where it couldn't be stopped.
He collapsed forward into the blanket, searching for Rose. The metal monster could be ignored. Like that noise was going to work—!
Going to work.
Shit.
Jared sat up again, hair matted over his eyes as though it were put on backward.
What time is it?
He staggered off the bed, nearly turning his ankle in a pile of laundry, and stumbled across the room, rubbing his eyes open to squint at the tinny alarm on the windowsill.
Forty minutes behind. He could still make it if he left now, but if he was late again...
Lou is gonna flip shit.
He kicked the hammer alarm off, the other four having since given up, and shucked off the dress clothes he'd fallen asleep in, grabbing his jeans off the desk chair and searching for fresh socks.
Fuck.
They'd gone missing again.
As he went to throw on a clean shirt, his eye caught on the red cord around his wrist. Struck by a sudden idea, he fingered it, and took a moment to separate last night's reality from dream.
That...really happened.
Shaking himself, he made to finish dressing, Aunt Judy's favorite expression echoing in his head.
"One thing at a time."
With memories of his escape constantly rearing, he did his best to keep it moving. In the cheery light of day, the night's horror had taken on a shade of unreality. And yet, it had happened. His sore legs were testament to that.
Focus. Crazy shit later.
He popped a mint in lieu of brushing his teeth and dragged a comb through his hair, squinting at his unshaven reflection in the mirror.
Good enough.
It was at this point that he remembered that it was Saturday. His relief was short-lived, however.
Rose.
He was still going to be late. He threw on his shoes, foregoing socks, and hurried out the door, locking it and sprinting down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, jaywalking the intersection and jogging the next two blocks.
"Jer! Get your pasty ass over here!" Rose Beauregard, color-coordinated with her fluorescent pink gym bag, was standing on the opposite corner, arms akimbo.
Sweating in the heat, Jared hustled across the street.
"Y'know how long I've been waiting on you?"
"Five minutes...?"
"Fifteen minutes." She shook her head. "Son, how many times have I told you—cut out them late-night robberies? What's your auntie gonna do when she finds out?"
"...stick up for me?"
Rose groaned. "I dunno how you do it," she said, "but you gotta run outta puns someday. I'ma just hold out till then."
"If you hold up well, you can join me at the bank next Friday."
"Oh my god!"
After taking a moment to recover, Rose proceeded to tell him about her week. The latest coworker scandal, the radio station drama, the Yankees' prowess, how newly single life was treating her. The sun beat down on them as they walked, sending rivulets of sweat down Jared's back. At length the narrative slowed.
"So what's new with you? You're awful quiet. Lou giving you shit again?"
"No, he..." Jared was silent for a moment. "Um, hey, what would you do if—if you saw something you couldn't explain?"
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Jer, I ride the subway. I see shit I can't explain every damn day."
"Yeah but, I mean, something really crazy. Like—like physically impossible crazy."
Rose squinted at him. "You have ridden the subway, haven't ya?"
"Yeah I—um, never mind."
"Why? What'd you see?"
Jared thought about what he had seen, and how he could possibly explain this without sounding like a madman. His gaze fell on a large patch of grubby cardboard spread on the sidewalk up ahead. Big enough to hold a man, but currently vacant. His brow creased. "I...I think I saw a murder."
Rose stopped cold. "You what?"
"It—it looked like a mugging. But the guy was on the ground. There was blood."
"Shiiit. So you see the guy who did it? He see you?"
He swallowed. "I mean, I was pretty far away. And I ran off."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You. You...ran off? I mean don't get me wrong, I'm glad to hear that. Knowing you I'd've expected you charge your dumb ass in there and get yourself killed."
Jared rubbed the back of his neck. "Right..."
"Good to know you got some sorta sense. But you ran off to get the cops, I s'pose."
"I—not yet."
"Not 'yet?' What, as in you got some kinda plan to go and you ain't gone yet? What are you waiting for?"
Jared hesitated, staring at the vacant cardboard by the roadside. He couldn't very well tell the police what he'd seen. He could fudge the details...but then what? What could he tell them that would be of any use? He imagined a cop on the beat, patrolling the street where he'd gotten a tip. A dark form, hanging from the bricks above, and in another moment, another body. He shook his head.
"Jer?"
There shouldn't be vampires. But there were. A reality no cop in their right mind would credit. A reality that was costing lives. And yet a reality that hadn't been able to bite him.
Rose snapped her fingers at him.
"I—I'll take care of it. I mean, I'll go to the cops."
"You wanna talk to Nikki? She's off duty now, but she got you."
"No! It—it's fine." He tugged his shirt free of his damp skin. "I don't wanna bother her. I'll just go to a station near where—where I saw it."
"You wanna talk about it? I don't mind."
"No, I—no it was dumb not to go sooner. I'll take care of it now."
"Uh, what, right now right now?"
"This has gotta be taken care of."
She marked his resolution and nodded. "A'ight. But gimme a call if you wanna talk or something, got it?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Rose." Jared turned away, the makings of a mad plan forming in his mind. Stung by a sudden thought, he swung back around—there could easily be more than one vampire stalking the city. "Hey, uh, be careful out there after dark."
Rose blew out her cheeks in a laugh, but stopped at the expression on his face. "What's that about?"
He flushed. "There're...dangerous guys around."
Casting him a look of appreciative condescension, she patted her gym bag. "Son, you don't gotta worry about me. I'm armed and dangerous."
He laughed in spite of himself.
Yeah. Too bad I don't have time to learn one of those.
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The little bell over the door jangled as Jared stepped into The Treasure Box, assailed by the usual odors of stale air freshener and staler cigarette smoke. He strode past the racks of worn clothes, making for the display at the back where the costume jewelry hung in knots, and soon found what he was looking for. He carried a fistful of chains and beads to the counter and dumped them in front of the kid on duty. The girl looked at the pile, then up at him doubtfully.
"You found Jesus, mister?"
"Just feeling cross today."
The kid blinked at him.
"Never mind."
The checker shrugged and counted out his selections. "That'll be two bucks."
Jared paid her and headed out of the air conditioning back into the street, feeling sheepish at the bounce of his bag at his side. Crosses weren't something he'd ever pictured himself obtaining, but that was what one did in this situation, wasn't it?
Vampires. Crosses.
His shopping list was compounded from the reading of the night before, but all of the items were obvious, engraved in popular culture. The next stop was the abandoned lot catty corner from his father's bookstore. On the way he stepped into a small grocery and bought a bulb of garlic. At the lot, too, he quickly found what he was searching for, and added a few splintered pieces of paling to his satchel, keeping an eye on the bookstore, lest anyone appear in the window. For a hammer, he bagged a hefty rock as well.
What else?
Holy water. How could he possibly get holy water?
It's not like I can steal it from a church. I don't know any priests...
Maybe he could ask Rose to get some? He shook his head. He could imagine that conversation.
"The hell do you want holy water for?"
On impulse, he went back to the grocery and picked up a bottle of water. It could be a bluff, if nothing else.
Okay.
His fingers tugged at the cord around his left wrist. He had the supplies. Now all he needed was some answers.
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Aunt Judy answered her door, her short, graying hair a frizzled halo about her head. Like Jared, she wore a look of perpetual worry, which was, unlike Jared's, augmented by enormous spectacles.
"Yared! Come in, come in!"
Jared edged his way between the chests and piled boxes to the sagging armchair she motioned him into. Judy's apartment was akin to the backroom of a museum, and her brain was its card catalog. She bustled off to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a silver tray of braided loaves.
"Ah, no thanks. I had challah bread I could eat last night."
She made a tutting noise and set the tray on a low table. "Water? You need to stay hydrated."
"Yeah, thanks."
She brought him a cup, then sat and clasped her hands, peering anxiously at him. "Is everything alright? You never come on Saturdays."
"Uh, sorry. I just—I need to ask you something."
"Of course!"
"Do, uh, d'ya remember this wristband Bubbe gave me?" He pulled at it. "I think she said it was for protecting against evil...?"
"The red string," she nodded. "For repelling the evil eye. She gave me one as well. Don't get it mixed up with this irreverent celebrity fashion," she added, with a touch of acid. "This isn't an accessory. It's a powerful symbol, rooted in tradition."
"The evil eye—what does that mean, exactly?"
"Ah. It refers to a sort of psychic ill will that causes harm."
"Harm like...physical harm?"
"It could be."
"So it's a sort of...evil repellent?"
She frowned and shook her head. "It is a boundary between the sacred life and the profane. A binding that holds evil at bay, but also a proclamation, and a promise. It is said that a red mark in the hour of need has more than once spared our people from destruction." She gave him an appraising look. "But you're awfully curious today. I thought you didn't believe, Yared."
"I never said I didn't believe. I just never had a reason to believe."
"But now you do?"
"I think I've...found something I can believe in."
Judy's gaze pierced through the centers of her spectacles. "What did you see?"
"I saw...something bad. Something evil. And if there's evil...there must be good, too."
She gave him a soft smile. "There are many people who wouldn't think that way. Would you like to talk about it?"
"No, I—it's just, I think there's something I gotta do. To make it better."
Judy nodded. "We all have our part to play." She leaned forward and touched his hand. "You know I'm happy to support you any way I can."
"Thanks. Actually there is...something."
"Anything."
He fidgeted with the water cup. Judy's interest in the esoteric was largely academic. "Do you—d'ya have any other talismans?"
She pursed her lips. "What sort of talismans?"
"Against evil. Um, harm. That sorta thing."
Her eyes held him. "Are you in trouble, Yared?"
Jared shook his head. "No. I mean, y'know, the usual." He flushed, averting his eyes. "I just—I could use a little luck."
She frowned at this, but nodded. "Well, there's always the Mogen Dovid."
"The shield...?"
"Mm. Its historical use is limited, but of course it's been widely adopted. I have one from your grandmother."
"Oh, no, I couldn't—"
She waved her hand, already rising. "No, no, no. She would have wanted you to have it." She went to one of the wooden chests checkered with drawers and pulled a drawer from the bottom left, disentangling a thin band of silver from a collection of brooches and earrings. She brought it back and held it out for him, the little star glinting as it swiveled on its chain. Jared accepted it with gratitude.
"Now if you want something with a little more history behind it, I'll see what I can find you. Just wait there."
Jared obliged as she made for a corner. He examined the star. "Isn't this the one she always wore?"
"Yes," came Judy's voice from behind a stack of shifting boxes. "After she fled Germany she never took it off."
He hesitated, then put it on, fumbling for an age with the clasp, and slipped it under his shirt.
Judy came back with a sheaf of papers. "Here," she said, spreading them on the table. "Everything the Sterns have collected—the steps to ward the darkness off." She paged through them. "Protections against the evil eye. Here's one for safe childbirth. And for repelling demons. A few for luck in love. A charm against black magic. The Seal of Solomon—that's a rare one. A prayer for health, blessings for house and home..." She went on, stooping and laying out brittle pages and scrolls.
Jared pointed to a couple. "Can I use these?"
"Of course. But be careful not to damage the Seal. It bears the Name of God."
"Okay."
"And Yared..."
"Yeah?"
"When you are...up against the wicked in the world, all of this"—she shook her head—"it's only paper. Though the language on it is holy, all the light that will protect you, your connection to that..." She reached out and touched her fingers to his chest. "...it's inside."
Jared stared at her, and she smiled.
"You've always had the makings of faith, Yared. Reach into that, and you'll be surprised what you find."
He was silent for a moment. "Thanks," he murmured. "That—it's been a huge help, I—thanks!" He rose to go.
"Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"
"Yeah. Um, take care of yourself. Out after dark. Keep around people."
Her eyes twinkled. "I will."
"A gutten Shabbos."
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Back in the heat outside Judy's apartment, Jared rummaged through his bag, inspecting his new acquirements. Pulling out the Seal of Solomon, he rolled it up and tucked it into one of the deep pockets in his pants, so it wouldn't get crumpled in the jumble that was his satchel.
He'd gone back to his apartment between meeting Rose and the supply run to grab some food and fix himself a couple sandwiches for the road, and now he made his way a few blocks to sit on a bench in a paved-over park and eat, as pigeons milled around his crumbs. It was already midafternoon, but the days were long, and the darkness was hours away.
He polished off the sandwich and brushed down his fingers, dug in his bag for the book he had brought, and leaned back against the wooden slats to kill the remaining daylight completing the research of the night before.
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Jared stood and stretched with a groan. The dying sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees, dappling the path. He had finished the rest of the sandwiches, and the book with them, having skimmed the sections that didn't feature vampire hunting. He thumbed back through the dog-eared pages.
Sacramental wafers. Wild rose. A "sacred bullet?"
He didn't know how to get any of those things.
He hefted his bag, feeling the reassuring weight of all the things he did have. Was this enough? Was he really going through with this?
I am such a fucking idiot.
He headed on, away from Judy's apartment, retracing the steps he had taken the previous night. Past pizza joints and bodegas, endless scaffolding, blocks of apartment buildings. The nightclub with the neon sign that Mr. Starr had stood before prior to entering Miss Moon's parlor. What-ifs began to rear their ugly heads as he walked, tormenting him with doubts, and he fell into a recap, followed by a conclusion:
...she takes a step closer as her coworkers get comfortable using my limbs for furniture. I catch her eying my clavicle.
"It is over, Mr. Starr." Through the curls of smoke from her cigarette, Miss Moon smiles at me like a spider at a fly. "Tell me, before you bite the dust, whatever possessed you to come after me?"
"It's a risky job, but someone's gotta do it."
"How brave of you to step up to bat."
"Dear god, just kill me why doncha."
"All in good time. But really, out of all the suckers in this city, why you? Why do you need to risk your life fighting vampires?"
"This is my city. A city where good people work hard to get the best they can outta life. They got enough problems without monsters like you sucking 'em dry. Coming after you's not a choice. It's a moral imperative."
"Yes, but why you?" She leans over me, blowing a ring of smoke in my face. "You were chosen for a starring role?"
"Somebody's gotta do it, and I've made it this far. Seems like there's a reason for that."
"Hm. But what is going to save you now? Your morals?" She titters maniacally. "I think not. You have been a pain in my neck far too long. It is high time I was a pain in yours."
As if on cue, Terran busts in through the window, showering us with broken glass. The ones on top of me let up, squealing, as my partner starts knocking heads. One of 'em goes tottering past, blinded by the Venetian blinds over her face.
"About time!" I yell, rolling sideways and snatching up my gun.
With me clear he pulls his, and we let 'em have it, pumping out wood before they know what's hitting 'em. They stagger around looking like freshly punched juice boxes before going up in greasy puffs of smoke. Miss Moon is slinking into the background, making for the stairs.
"Don't let her get away!"
We break through the remaining ranks, dashing in pursuit. She's on the landing above us as we slam into the stairwell. I bound up the stairs, Terran lagging behind. Another flight and we crash out the access door onto the roof—just in time to see a particularly self-satisfied-looking bat flapping off into the distance.
The last of the horde trickles up the stairs and circles us, groping the air with their claws.
"You're too late," I inform 'em, as the crimson sun makes its appearance on the horizon. "Or hasn't that dawned on ya?"
So sue me. I've had a bad day.
They spurt into smoke on all sides, and we're left alone in the morning light.
"Maybe the sun got her too," Terran says, with his usual grating optimism. "Justice prevails!"
I resist decking him.
"Not a chance," I mutter instead. "You don't know that dame like I do. But for now...I'm going home. To sleep like the dead."
Jared let out his breath. It wasn't much farther. A public square, a lower density of buildings, the parking lot. Adrenaline pounded through him, harder the nearer he got. It was fully dark now.
There prolly won't be anyone there.
At last, the alley with the broken lamps halfway down, the gate still ajar.
And there, he froze. There was a figure, at the end of the alley, reclining against a brick wall. It straightened as he drew up. A hood was drawn down over its face, but Jared knew, instinctively.
It was the monster.
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