CHAPTER TWO: DEATH IS OPTIONAL

“Vampires are real.” The woman, Constance Reed, stared into Quinn Mallory’s eyes as she said this. Her own eyes were huge, red-rimmed and filled with tears. “So why did my son have to die?”

Her words pierced him to his core. But all he could answer to this rhetorical question was, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Reed.”

While Quinn had been a funeral director at his grandparents' funeral home for half a decade and spent most of his childhood witnessing the business of death, this was beyond him. He helped the bereaved plan funeral details, prepare obituaries, obtain death certificates, and arrange for clergy attendance, among many other parts of the ritual of death. There were many kinds of mourners in his experience. Many wanted to talk, to tell stories about their loved ones, and even laugh. That laughter often ended in tears, but it was cleansing. Even those who had complicated relationships with the deceased needed the closure that a funeral could bring.  

At least, that’s how it had been before the Vampires revealed themselves to the world just six months previously. 

Now death was optional. Instead of being the price that everyone had to pay for living, now only some people had to. And the pain of those who lost people–now unnecessarily, in their eyes at least–was so much greater.

Mrs. Reed crumpled a tissue in her right hand while her left clutched her purse. “Why couldn’t they save him? Why wouldn’t they save him?” 

“The doctors?” Quinn asked uncertainly.

“No! No, the doctors couldn’t help him.” She shook her head almost violently. Her ash blonde hair fell out of the already messy bun she had tied it back in. “The Vampires!”

“Oh, yes, well…” 

He didn’t have any words of comfort for this.  His grandparents had helped the grieving for over fifty years. They’d seen it all. They’d experienced it all. And while they treated each person as an individual and each death as a tragedy, they did know the right things to say in most situations, and they had imparted those words to him. But with Vampires nothing worked any longer.

“I filled out the application for the Ever Dark Academy on his behalf!” she told him.

“The Vampire school–”

“It’s not a school. It’s how they determine who gets to be turned and who doesn’t. The students learn about Vampires.  Their Bloodlines. Their powers. Their history. And then, the Vampires turn them. Make them immortal.  Do you know that they made an 80-year-old man a Vampire?!” The outrage quivered in her voice. “Eiji Goda! That’s his name. He already had a whole life. A whole life!  While my Stephan was only twenty-three when cancer ate him away!”

She brought the hand clutching the tissue up to her face. It was shaking. Tears spilled down her face and ran unheeded to her chin. They dropped off onto the dark wood table they sat at. Some of them pattered onto the laminated binder with the pictures of caskets inside.  Few people were choosing cremation any longer because of the hope that one of the Kaly Vampires–who could bring the dead to life–might choose their loved one to use that particular gift on.

“He didn’t get the chance to have a life at all! No career. No marriage. No children. But they give eternal life to a–a grandfather.” Disgust caused her lips to writhe back from her teeth.  “And there’s even rumors he’s a–a mobster!”

Quinn had seen the interviews on television with Eiji Goda, the 82-year-old Japanese businessman who had been chosen to go to Ever Dark Academy and the first of the students to be turned.  He’d also read the stories that hinted Eiji was, in fact, a Yakuza boss and not a legitimate businessman at all. 

While Mrs. Reed was outraged by this fact, Quinn thought it made sense for the Vampires to turn someone like that. Someone with a lot of knowledge and power already who could use his criminal enterprise to advance their interests. Not to mention, Eiji would likely have the ruthlessness to feed upon humans.  Those things alone would make turning Eiji make considerably more sense than turning a young man who–even if he was as wonderful as could be–didn’t have a lot to offer.  Though some of the choices of students had surprised him. He’d expected the billionaires, the leaders, the politically connected to be in the first waves of those turned. But that hadn’t actually happened.  Much to the consternation of those groups…

Mrs. Reed thumped her fingers on the table to emphasize her next words. “I put in his application that Stephen had Stage IV Lung Cancer. So they knew. They knew he was dying. But they didn’t accept him anyways.  They let him die!”

He could have told her that the Vampires only accepted 100 students in the entire world every year to be turned into the immortal, blood-drinking beings per the Blood Pact between Vampires and humanity.  How many people were on the verge of death every moment of every day? How many brilliant, beloved individuals would vanish in the next minute, hour, day, month, year?   So the chance that her son–no matter how ill or how worthy–would have been chosen was probably lower than winning the lottery. 

But those 100 slots stoke people’s hopes. Before death was non-negotiable. The thing we all had to pay from kings to peasants, but now? Now a lucky few will never have to pay that toll. Internally, he shook himself. But death is not the end. There’s something after. Something amazing.

“My Stephan was… was…”

“Was all you had in the world since your husband passed when he was a baby?” Quinn said before he could help himself.

Her eyes widened a fraction as if she wondered how he could possibly know. “Yes, and–”

“He loved playing Frisbee at the park with your dog Yuna.”

She blinked rapidly. “Y-yes, how do you–”

“His favorite memory was when you let him stay off sick just before the summer of his Senior year of highschool. You took off work as well from your nursing job. You grabbed a picnic lunch and went to the park with Yuna,” Quinn said.  “The two of you played with Yuna all day long.”

Yes, yes! And remind her how sunburnt we were!  Quinn’s eyes flickered to the young man’s blue-white figure in the corner of the room who said those words to him. 

“Both of you were terribly sunburned. Like snakes shedding your skin…” he whispered the next words Stephen said.

“How… how do you know this?” Mrs. Reed whispered back.

Quinn could see the dark wood paneling and the oil painting of a beautiful field through him. For the young man was a ghost and only he could see him and only he could hear him.  This was the ghost of this woman’s son. This was Stephan. Stephan reached towards his mother, intending to touch her shoulder, embrace her.

“Don’t touch her!” Quinn shouted, half rising from his seat.

Mrs. Reed gasped and drew back from him, shocked at this seemingly random statement. Stephen froze and looked at him with wide, beseeching eyes.

Why not? Stephen asked. Can’t you see how much pain she’s in? If she could just feel that I’m here–

“No, you could drain her life force. She’s already grieving. You could… you mustn’t touch her,” Quinn told him.

I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I won’t! Stephen cried, throwing his hands up and looking at them as if they were deadly weapons, which to the living they could be.

“Who–who are you talking to?” Mrs. Reed asked even as she was rubbing her hands vigorously over her arms due to the cold. Then she saw her breath frost in the air. “What–what is happening?”

“And you should step back,” Quinn said to Stephen, gesturing for him to move back into the far corner. 

The ghost retreated. Stephen’s hands twisted in front of him with the desire to touch his mother, but he obeyed Quinn’s commands. Finally, Quinn turned back to Mrs. Reed. He was standing now. His six-foot frame hawking over her. He blinked and focused on her.

“I’m sorry,” he said and ran an uncertain hand through his hair. “Normally, I don’t…” talk to the dead in front of people who don’t know I can? That’s one way of putting it. “I don’t do that without… without warning people.”

“Do… do what?” she whispered.

In the past, before Vampires with their many gifts were known to exist when he told people he could see and talk to the dead, at best, they wouldn’t believe him and, at worse, they thought he was trying to con them. But since Vampires had made their appearance… Well, people were more open minded in some ways.

But then they made assumptions…

He forced himself to sit back down and take a breath. Stephen stared at him pathetically, desperate for him to relay to his grieving mother that he was still there. But would that comfort her? Or would it make it much, much worse?

How hypocritical if I said nothing! I take great comfort in having my parents still with me, seeing them, speaking to them, knowing they are there even though they died so long ago.

He brought his hands together in front of him on the dark, mahogany table. His grandmother had polished it to a mirror shine and he could see his face’s reflection in it. Blonde hair swept back from a sensitive forehead, dark blue eyes, and a patrician nose. His grandmother said he had an aristocratic look, something from a far ancestor of theirs. He thought he just looked distant and faintly delicate. 

Tell her I’m here! Tell her I’m all right! Stephen cried.

“I can… I can…” Why was this not easy despite the fact that he had said it before? He could easily prove it to her. She would likely believe it now. “I can see and speak to the… to the dead.”

She stared at him.

That might be good.

That might be bad.

Sometimes he really wished he could read minds.

“And your son…” he swallowed deeply.

“Stephen?” His name was like a prayer on her lips.

He inclined his head. “Yes. He is…”

“Here?” Her lower lip quivered. She firmed it.

“Yes.”

She covered her face with her hands for a moment and her shoulders shook. “He’s here?”

“Yes,” he repeated. “And he wants you to know he’s all right.”

And I won’t leave her! Stephen insisted on adding.

“No, don’t say that. Don’t promise that,” he said to the ghost.

“What?” Mrs. Reed uncovered her face, red and wet with tears. “You’re–you’re talking to him, aren’t you? R-right now?”

He nodded.

“What did he say? What did you tell him not to promise?”

He pressed his hands together more tightly. “He…”

Tell her! This is my choice! Not yours! Stephen shook.

“You might change your mind. You should change your mind,” Quinn said.

Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite, he said internally to himself.

“What is he saying? You must tell me!” Her hands shot across the table and covered his.

He nearly retreated from her needy touch, but he forced himself to breathe through it. It wasn’t always easy for him to be touched. It was hard to explain, but he could almost… feel people’s energy. He could take it or give it. Often he gave it to the grieving even though it exhausted him. 

It was already 10 pm, far later than he had ever had to work in the past and he still had considerable work to do. Another result of Vampires being real? Suicides were up. Because more than Quinn knew now that there was something after death and some people–a whole lot of people–had decided that was better than here. Had to be better.  It was the opposite side of the coin to what Mrs. Reed was feeling.

“Please tell me what my Stephen is saying,” Mrs. Reed begged.

Stephen took a step closer. Quinn sent him a sharp look, which had him retreating. But what would happen when Mrs. Reed left this place? Went home and Stephen followed? How long would he keep away from her? Some of the dead were hungry. They couldn’t help themselves. When relatives died soon after there had been the death of a young person in their family, it was often because of these hungry ghosts. 

“He wants you to know that he’ll be with you… as long as you wish,” Quinn added in the last part.

You are truly a hypocrite, he told himself. You ask her to release him while you? What do you do?  You encourage your parents to stay. To wait for you.

She blinked. Her eyelashes were dark and wet with tears. “He’s with me? Always–”

Yes, always! I won’t leave her, Stephen promised.

“But, Mrs. Reed,” he said carefully, “do you really want him to stay?”

She blinked. “I…”

Of course, she does! And I want to! Stephen insisted.

He moved his hands underneath hers so that he had one hand below and one hand above them. “You know that the soul exists. That Stephen still exists.”

More blinking.

“And you know that there is something after–”

“But we don’t know what that is! The Kaly Vampire won’t say! They never say anything.” Again, her expression grew rage-filled before smoothing out. “If what was beyond this life was so good… wouldn’t they want to go?”

He swallowed. 

She had a point.

The Kaly Vampires were the masters of life and death. They could converse and control souls and so much more. They would know what was after. But they chose to remain here. On this plane. Not moving on. 

“I believe what’s next is wonderful, Mrs. Reed. I don’t believe it would be less than this,” he said to her gently.

“But you don’t know. You just believe it. The Vampires must know,” Mrs. Reed said simply.

“I–”

She gave the room a watery smile. “Stephen, love, you stay with me. You don’t go anywhere. “

I won’t, Mom, Stephen said.

Quinn’s shoulders slumped. 

Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite, he thought. How could you ask her to do what you won’t? Don’t act as if you’ve failed. Don’t expect more of her than yourself.

“Are you…” She wetted her lips as she looked at him very carefully. “Are you one of them?”

A Vampire.

“No, Mrs. Reed. You met me in daylight, remember?  And I have blue eyes. Not silver,” he reminded her.

But she stared at him in a way that told him she wasn’t quite sure if he was telling the truth. “Oh, but you have the same ability as the Kaly Vampires–”

“No, no, I don’t. What I can do is… much less than they can. But it’s something some humans have been able to do since forever,” he said.

Again, she didn’t look like she believed him. “Well… I see.”

“Mrs. Reed, we need to talk about what arrangements you would like for Stephen’s… body,” he added the last as the ghost gazed hungrily at his mother. 

She blinked, having completely forgotten what she was here for. “Oh… whatever will preserve his body longest. Whatever it takes. What do the Vampires recommend?”

“They don’t… don’t recommend anything,” he got out, feeling just how out of control this conversation had gotten.

“But they must! You must talk to them!” she insisted.

“I don’t know any–”

“Don’t you?” She stared at him so beseechingly. “Don’t you know any Vampires, Mr. Mallory? Are you certain you don’t? With your gift…”

“I don’t.” He pulled his hands away from hers.

 He closed the carved double doors to the funeral home after Mrs. Reed’s retreating form. He turned the locks and rested his forehead against the wood. His shoulders ached. He had an incipient headache coming on. He was so tired that he considered simply laying down on the burgundy leather couch in the seating area to his right and going to sleep until morning when he’d have to start this all over again.

Hard day, his mother said. She didn’t make it a question. She knew. 

“A little bit,” he said as he turned to look at her.

Her shimmery blue-white form appeared about five feet from him. She was dressed in the same skirt and top she’d been in when she’d died. At least, that’s what he guessed. He’d only been a baby when she and his father’s car had tumbled off that cliff. 

Just like the Vampire Prince’s parents. Gone in an instant.

In the end, the boy was telling the truth. It is his choice to stay, his mother assured him, sadness softening her features. 

“But if she told him to go. If she told him that she would be all right without him. Then they both could move on,” Quinn pointed out. “It’s not like…”

You and us? No, it’s not. She can’t hear her Stephen. Well, not like you can though a mother can feel many things, she said with a fond smile. 

“By telling her that he was there, I may have kept her in grief the rest of her life,” he said. “And trapped him here for longer than he needed to be.”

Human lives are short, his mother said with a shrug. He will just wait for her to join him and then they’ll move on together. Like we will when that time comes.

What he didn’t say was whether that would be possible. If the dead stayed here too long, could they still leave? He didn’t know. His parents didn’t know. The Kaly Vampires might know. But they weren’t telling.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I guess.”

It’s all right, Quinn. The only thing you can ever do is your best, she told him.

He didn’t believe that was true. He could always do better. 

His father suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs that led to the basement of the funeral home where his grandparents still worked on embalming the dead. There were so many these days that they were all working nearly around the clock. 

Go tell your grandfathr to go home, Quinn, his handsome father said gently. Dad still thinks he’s immortal.

Quinn smiled and nodded. His parents were careful not to get too close to him or his grandparents so they weren’t drained by their presence, but they kept watch on them all the time. 

“Will do,” Quinn said with a weary smile. 

He pushed off the doors and headed to the stairs. His father quickly glided away so that he didn’t touch Quinn. They had touched. But it really was dangerous. And he was much too exhausted now to do so. But he showed his love with his expressions. His parents did the same. Quinn took the stairs down. He could hear the television on. 

While the upstairs of the Mallory Funeral Home was all dark woods, jewel-colored oriental carpets, oil paintings of still lives, forests and fields, the basement was far more utilitarian. Tile floors that were easy to clean. Walls painted a light gray. Ductwork exposed. 

The stairwell led down to a long hallway that went to the right and left. He went to the left where the bright, fluorescent lights of the embalming room. The right led to the furnace. The embalming room was as bright as day with white tiled floors and walls. There were several stainless steel tables in the room that had two inch raised sides and drains in the corners that led to ones in the floor. 

His grandfather was dressed in blue scrubs and had on a plastic facemask and was double-gloved. Every table had a body. Blood was being drained before formaldehyde and other chemicals were inserted to slow the decomposition process. His grandfather was looking between the television that was hanging in the corner and the body he was working on. He smiled broadly, his eyes nearly disappearing into the crinkly folds of his skin, when he saw Quinn and gestured to the television with a gloved hand.

“Your favorite person is on,” his grandfather said as he checked the lines into the body he was working on.

“Favorite person?” Quinn asked, but then he realized who his grandfather meant as the camera pulled back on the newsroom to show five people. 

The two women he didn’t recognize at first, but the other two–the Vampires–he did.

The reporter–a chirpy blonde woman whose hair never moved when her head did–was introducing her guests. “My name is Katie Stewart. And this evening on our panel we have Dr. Amara Biswas and independent reporter Mairead Byrne. These two women were picked as part of the original 100 students asked to come to the Ever Dark Academy, the school for people who may be turned into Vampires. The only legal way for Vampires to turn humans into their kind. But neither of these women made it to the end of the year and were not chosen to be turned.”

Mairead Byrne, who had a personality to match her red hair, said in her Irish brogue, “You’re assuming we would have accepted them in the end. But we wouldn’t have, Katie.”

Katie–the reporter–smiled and nodded, not annoyed at being corrected. “And our other two guests are quite familiar to our watchers. They are Lord Balthazar Ravenscroft, or as he is also known, the Immortal Eyros, leader of the Eyros Bloodline. And the man beside him is… Lord Caemorn Losus, the Immortal Kaly, leader of the Kaly Bloodline.”

Quinn froze when he saw Caemorn. The Kaly Vampire sat beside Balthazar, stiff and chilly. His expression did not change at her introduction. He stared ahead as if looking into some far distance that no one else could see. He wasn’t smiling. Quinn didn’t think he’d ever seen Caemorn smile. Quinn thought the Vampire might be incapable of smiling. 

The Kaly Vampire was handsome with his pale hair and sharp, patrician features,  but the word that most would likely describe him was forbidding.  Quinn certainly thought so. Caemorn wore all black. Black leather boots. Black pants. Black, silk shirt with black velvet waistcoat and form-fitting coat with silver deathheads on his collar and cuffs in silver stitching. This was the symbol of his Bloodline. It was marked on every bit of clothing Quinn had seen him in. 

“They always ask Lord Losus on, but he hardly speaks,” his grandfather tutted. “But they keep trying.”

Quinn took another step into the room. “It’s because they’re desperate to know what comes after death.”

“He’ll never tell them,” his grandfather sighed.

“But he should!” Quinn began.

“But he won’t,” his grandfather said quietly. “Some things are not for us mortals to know and he’s right to keep that knowledge from us.”

Katie continued, “And today’s topic is–”

“How Vampire blood could cure all human disease, but the Vampires won’t share it with us,” Amara jumped in, her beautiful face contorted with anger at the injustice of it all. “My brother died of something that the Vampires could cure just by simply donating blood.  But they won’t let us investigate their blood’s properties.”

Katie laughed uneasily as clearly the interview was already going out of control.  “Well, I see we’re getting right to it!”

“We’re not asking them to be experimented upon,” Mairead added. “It’s just their blood! Totally painless! I’ve donated blood my whole life. And I’m just a weak mortal. What’s their excuse?”

Katie pivoted to Balthazar, who looked ridiculously handsome, urbane and relaxed despite the pointed statements by the two former students. He almost looked like he relished it. 

“Lord Ravenscroft,” Katie began

“Balthazar, please, Katie. I may call you Katie, mightn’t I?” Balthazar flashed a smile, which revealed very white teeth, but no fangs. Not this time.

Katie blinked slowly and Quinn remembered thinking that he’d used some of that mind control on her or maybe the usual Vampire seduction. Every Vampire seemed to have that. But Balthazar was also a very good looking and charming individual.

“B-Balthazar, well, yes…” Katie tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “You’ve heard what Dr. Biswas and Ms. Byrne have to say. What is your response to that? Why not just donate blood?”

“Ah, if only it was so simple,” Balthazar said as he lightly crossed one leg over the other. “They speak of alleged cures that could be made from Vampire blood, but–as both Dr. Biswas and Ms. Byrne–have to admit, they don’t actually know if that’s true. Because no Vampire blood has been given to them–willingly or legally–to test it.”

Dr. Biswas leaned across the table. “The blood is the life. It’s what gives you all of your powers. All of your gifts.”

Balthazar continued to smile at her. There was no sense that her statements or intensity affected him in the least. “Well, I think that’s debatable. Caemorn, would you say it is our blood or our spirits?  Something indefinable?”

Quinn went very still. So did his grandfather. Both of them watched the screen. 

The camera centered on him: Lord Caemorn Losus, also known as the Immortal Kaly, leader of the Kaly Vampire Bloodline, which could control and raise the dead, even bring the dead back to life.

Katie eagerly looked at Caemorn. “Lord Losus…” She paused, clearly waiting for him to tell her to call him by his first name–Caemorn–but the Kaly Vampire did not say anything. In fact, he didn’t even move. “L-Lord Losus, as the Lord of the Dead–as you are affectionately called–people have so many questions about–about the things you know so intimately. Death. Souls. What comes after. If something does. There is something. You’ve indicated that, but… but you’ve not–”

“The spirit world is not the subject of this interview,” Caemorn cut her off in his clipped, cold voice.

“Damnit.” Quinn’s hands fisted at his sides. He thought of Mrs. Reed’s wretched expression. And she was one of a long line of people who had come to him more anguished than he had ever seen them.

“I told you,” his grandfather said softly. “He knows–”

“You have faith, Grandfather. But most people don’t! And now with people who could tell them all they need to know–”

“Do you know everything, Quinn?” His grandfather’s handsome white-haired head turned towards him. Even in his late sixties, his grandfather had a thick head of hair. “You’ve talked to your parents since you were a baby.”

“But they haven’t crossed over, Grandfather,” Quinn reminded him and that stab of guilt went through him. 

Katie was speaking again, saying, “But your colleague–”

“Lord Ravenscroft likes to… stir the pot,” Caemorn said. He never did look directly at his interviewer. 

Balthazar’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile.  Quinn wondered if Balthazar thought Caemorn should say more, too.

Katie gestured to Amara and Mairead as she said, “Yes, but these women–”

“Believe that the power to eradicate all human suffering is in Vampire blood,” Caemorn said and then looked directly into the camera as he added, “Unless, what they really want are souls. Would you be willing to give up your soul to them for… experimentation?”

Quinn’s breath came out in a sharp gasp. Since he had learned of what the Kaly Vampires could do–imprison souls–he’d been terrified of one of them finding his parents…

“But don’t the Kaly experiment with souls?” Amara asked sharply.

“What the Kaly do is far beyond your ability to comprehend, Dr. Biswas,” Caemorn said without looking at her.

She wasn’t done with him. “But isn’t the truth–”

“Truth?” Here Balthazar let out a bitter laugh. He leaned forward towards her. “What would you know of the truth, Dr. Biswas?  You who lied on your application and in your very many interviews about why you wanted to become a Vampire.  You took one precious slot from a person who actually wished to be one of us. All for your experiments!”

Amara was shaking. “I did want to become a Vampire–”

“Being a Vampire means pledging your loyalty to King Daemon,” Caemorn broke in. “And he has decreed that we will not be a part of human experiments. But you intended to go against that if you were turned.”

“Because of the great benefits to humankind!” Amara cried. 

“You don’t know that,” Balthazar said quietly. “You just assume.”

“Science is about testing and–”

“King Daemon has lived for countless millennia. Do you put your judgment above his, Dr. Biswas?” Caemorn asked.

“He’s never been human.” One of Amara’s hands trembled near her throat. “He doesn’t understand our suffering and he never will.”

“His decision is for the Vampires and humans’ greater good,” Caemorn said as if this meant the matter was settled.

“You expect us to just accept what he says–what you say!” Mairead shook her head. “But you give no explanations! You know what comes after death, but you won’t say a word about it.”

Quinn leaned forward, trying to will the Kaly Vampire to say something. Just a few words from him would help people accept that death and dying were nothing to fear. He had tried to get that across with his own gift, but had failed time and time again.

But Caemorn was not to be willed or compelled to answer. He repeated, “That is not the subject of tonight’s program. And I will say nothing more about it.”

Quinn’s shoulders slumped. 

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” his grandfather’s kind voice swept over him. “I know you believe that if he spoke about–”

But he didn’t get farther than that. Because all of the lights in the funeral home suddenly went out. 

His father’s voice was suddenly in his ear, Quinn, Vampires are breaking into the building!