Chapter Text
That evening, when Sammie opened and then immediately slammed the storeroom door, he’d almost left very well alone, content to forget what he’d just seen. But there was a soft, muffled scream, buried under the music and thumping of feet, a scream that didn’t sound right. Didn't sound like pleasure.
So he opened the door again, heat already rising to his face with the shame of potentially catching his cousin getting some. What he saw made him flash cold all over instead.
Stack was struggling under Mary, trying to fight her off. At first, Sammie didn’t really know what he was looking at and unwisely stepped closer. Then Mary turned her head and he saw eyes like mirrors and animal teeth.
She leapt off Stack and lunged for Sammie, herding him away from the door and making to corner him. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby chair and held it, legs up, to shield himself.
She screamed like a mountain lion, so loud it seemed to echo in the hills outside the juke. She wrenched herself off the chair and tried, in a mix of panic and adrenaline, to flee. She only got a few steps before she’d returned to the floor, wheezing and gasping and slowing down until she was stone still.
Everything was quiet for a long moment. Mary’s soft pink dress slowly stained red as the blood pooled underneath her body. She looked shrunken and twisted there, like a puppet with the strings cut.
“No-!” Stack cried. He was gathering up her body in an instant, hand on the wound to stem the bleeding and ear to her chest in search of a pulse. Tears ran down his cheeks and mixed with the blood of her heart when he found nothing.
“M’ sorry,” Sammie choked out, and he was crying too. “M’ so sorry! I-I ain’t mean to- I didn’-”
Smoke barreled through the door, and then paused when he took the scene in. He was quiet, breathing heavily through his nose, eyes flicking around the room. He caught sight of his brother in the throes of grief and despair and sat down next to him.
“What happened?” he asked softly.
“I on’ know,” Stack answered. His voice was hoarse and thick- throat tight. Smoke glanced up at Sammie, who sat trembling against the wall.
“It was my fault,” Sammie said. “I killed her.”
“Why?” Smoke asked calmly. Sammie shook his head, struggling to get the words out. Annie came through the door, eyes widening in terror and shock when she saw Mary’s body. Her jaw had dropped, eyes roving.
“What happened?” she asked. Stack was somewhere far away from them all. Sammie’s jaw worked, but he could not summon the courage to say.
Annie sunk down to her knees, eyes going over Mary’s slack face. Her open eyes and mouth.
“...Somethin’ ain’t right,” said Annie. Smoke took in what she was looking at. His brows creased, mouth flattening.
“What the fuck,” he said, eyes catching on the gleaming fangs.
“Elias,” Annie turned to Stack. “What happened?”
“She- She tried t’ bite me,” he croaked.
“Did she bite you?” asked Annie.
Stack shook his head.
“She tried, but then Sammie came in.”
“I- I was just tryna’ keep her offa me,” Sammie said. Annie’s eyes flicked to the bloody chair legs that Mary had impaled herself on.
“You did what you was s'posed to. Ain’t none a’ this your fault.”
Annie turned back to inspecting the body when Slim came in.
“Hey, listen. I settled folks down out there, but- Jee-zus! The hell happen’d in here, y’all?”
“Slim, I need you to keep everybody inside,” said Annie. “Keep the party going. Don’t let nobody leave. If they try- offer up free drink.”
When he tried to question her, he was stopped by Smoke’s hard glare.
“You fuckin’ heard her, didn't you?” he said. Slim ducked his head and nodded, going back out to the party. When he was gone, Smoke turned to Annie.
“Why can’t nobody leave?” Smoke asked quietly. Annie looked to him, and then turned soft eyes to Stack, who was still staring at Mary’s body, weeping silently in his brother’s arms.
“She tried to kill you after she came back inside, s’that right?”
Stack barely seemed to register the words, but after a moment, he tilted his tear-streaked face back up to Annie. He nodded.
Annie scrutinized a patch on the pink fabric of Mary’s dress, bleeding through well above the wounds the chair had wrought. She pulled it down off Mary’s shoulder and all eyes traveled to the large bite mark underneath.
“You sayin’ it’s- what, hydrophobia?” Smoke asked.
Annie shook her head.
“Wouldn’t set in so quick.”
“I let her go,” Stack said. “I let ‘er go out there. It wasn't her fault.”
“You right,” said Annie. “Ain’t your fault, neither.”
She stooped down to Mary’s body, turning her over. Stack sobbed when he saw the way her limbs flopped unnaturally, like a ragdoll, breaking any lingering illusion of life. Annie pulled back Mary’s upper lip, taking a closer look at those sharp, dog-like fangs. Eyes the color of a full moon when they hit the light just wrong.
“I knew there was somethin’ wrong with those white folks,” said Annie.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Smoke breathed.
“From the symptoms, looks like vampires,” said Annie.
“Vampires?” he hissed.
“Yes. And there’s three more of ‘em outside that need to be dealt with.”
Sammie sat by the open door, strumming softly. Smoke sipped his beer carefully, while Stack, unusually quiet for a man who loved to talk, stared at his full tumbler of whiskey.
“I don’ know ‘bout this, Anne,” Smoke said quietly. They all had their backs to Sammie, pretending to listen to the music. They were sat at a table, hidden out of the visible range from the door.
“It was his idea,” said Annie.
“Don’t make it a good one.”
“We don’t got no other choice,” said Annie. “The longer we wait, the more of ‘em there’s gon’ be.”
“Well, I just don’t wanna see Sammie turn into whatever-”
He stopped himself. Glanced at his brother, who’s eyes were still fixed on the glass below him, the liquid within it lit up sunrise-orange by the bright lights.
“I don’t want to see my lil’ cousin killed.”
“You won’t. I know what I’m doing. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Course I do. But-”
“Then we do it my way.”
“Well, sure, fine. But why’s it got to be him?” Smoke insisted.
“It’s his music drew them here,” said Annie. “He’s got a power. They want it. They crave it. And they’ll do whatever they can to steal it for themselves.”
“I still don’t like it,” replied Smoke. “He’s jus’ a boy.”
“I won’t let them touch him, Elijah. You know that.”
Smoke said nothing but reached across the table to take a hold of her hand.
Their plan didn't take long to work. Within half an hour, out came the monster from the dark. He’d stood alone in the yellow light, but they could see two more pairs of glows out in the shadows.
“My that sure is a beautiful sound you make,” said Remmick. He leaned on the outside of the door frame, as casual as could be, but his eyes were dark. Sammie held his ground, just inches away from the end of the threshold.
“Well, thank you,” he said. “I been practicin’ this one for a while.”
“I can surely see that. But why you sittin’ all by yourself over here? Shouldn’t you be on stage? Drawin’ the crowd?”
“Don’t much feel like havin’ all those eyes on me right now,” said Sammie. Smoke was impressed by the levelness in his voice. It was all an act, but it was a damn good one.
“I’m awfully sorry to hear that,” said Remmick, voice dripping with sympathy. “You mind if I ask you why?”
“Somethin’ strange happened a bit ago,” replied Sammie. “One of the girls here- she attacked my cousin. She wasn’t herself, came after me too. I hurt her- ain’t meant to.”
There were real tears in Sammie’s voice. Smoke carefully avoided looking at his brother. Instead, he looked across the way at Cornbread, who was hiding in the storage closet. In his hands was the necklace with Smoke’s silver coin laced through it. He prayed to wherever his mother was that they’d actually armed the poor man with something decent.
“Don’t much feel like celebratin’ anymore,” Sammie finished.
Remmick was silent for several moments. A heavy kind of silent, the kind that filled the air and darkened the edge of one’s vision. Smoke felt a deep, weighty dread sink down over his back like sludge. His fingers itched for his gun, but he held still and quiet.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Remmick finally said. “Sounds terrifyin’.”
“It was.”
“Any idea why she- uh. Went off on the poor feller?”
“I heard ‘em fightin’ earlier. Must’ve had somethin’ to do with that, somehow.”
“Aye, it must have.”
There was a strange flicker of a foreign accent on the man’s tongue, definitely not southern. Smoke found he couldn’t quite pin it. It came in and out in his words.
“It’s still a shame to see such a young lad as yourself so down. If you’d be so kind as to invite me in, I could show you a few new chords on that guitar of yours. Might help lift your spirits. At the very least, take your mind off it for a while. How ‘bout it?”
Sammie feigned interest.
“I’d like that,” he said. Smoke’s hand tightened around his gun. “Come on in.”
“Jesus. You got ‘im?” Slim asked.
“I got him,” Cornbread replied, though his voice was strained even from where he sat atop the beast’s hips, pinning its arms behind it and holding the silver coin necklace around its neck. Remmick roared and tried to bite back at Cornbread’s hands, even as wisps of steam rose from the metal.
“Here,” Annie said, handing him one of the iron mill chains. He took it gratefully, binding the creature’s wrists. The chains weren’t huge, about as thick as a thumb, but they were sturdy enough to hold.
“Lock those tight, now,” said Annie. She looked woefully at the now empty jar of pickled garlic in her hands and then to the door, where the other two vampires were yowling and screeching to be let in. It had drawn a few eyes, but thankfully, most seemed to think it was just an altercation at the door.
The caterwauling cut off abruptly- as Smoke and Stack had slipped quietly outside through all the commotion and come at them from behind, perfectly in unison. Armed with the legs of the same chair that had slain Mary, they ran through the hearts of Remmick’s fledglings. He screamed in pain when they went down, grinding his forehead into the floor.
It felt a little easier than it should have been, but they’d been preparing. Coordinating. Working together seamlessly just as they always had. They dragged the bodies out behind the juke to await the coming sun, hopefully out of sight where any patrons could see them.
When they came back inside, Remmick was in the midst of a rage.
“Let go a’ me right feckin’ now!” Remmick howled. The accent was much thicker now, almost drowning out the drawl. The twins immediately recognized it.
“You think you in any position to threaten, boy?” Smoke asked.
“Téigh trasna ort féin!” Remmick howled at him.
“We cursed, ain’t we?” Slim asked nervously. “He puttin’ some fucked up vampire curses on us.”
“Just the regular curses,” said Annie.
Cornbread finished wrapping the chain around Remmick’s wrists and ankles, hogtying him and locking them into place. They dragged him into the cellar, away from the eyes of the partygoers so they could finish the job.
Smoke knelt on the cold floor beside him and grabbed him by the back of the neck, holding him still. He continued to struggle, but when he realized it was over, he dissolved into pleas for mercy and cries for help through garlic burned lips and a strangled throat.
“Wait, wait, wait! You don’t understand! I-I didn’t want to hurt ya’ll! I wanted to help!”
“Oh, you was just tryin’ to help,” said Stack, handing his brother the stake. “That’s on us. We got confused, y’see.”
“I was trying to save you! Get y’all ready for when they come! Y-You don’t gotta kill me! Just let me go- please, please! You’ll never see me again, I swear it! Oh, please don’t kill me!”
Smoke ignored it all and raised the stake high, preparing to make the final blow. Before he could bring it down, however, his brother’s hand stopped him.
“Wait.”
“What?” Smoke asked.
Stack held up a hand and leaned down closer to Remmick’s level.
“What exactly did you mean by- by saving us? Who 'they'?”
Remmick swallowed around the chord wrapped tight around his throat. He looked at Stack. He smiled, in a way that might have been meant to look hapless and innocent. The effect was ruined by the blood and drool falling from his lips as he spoke.
“We came to give everybody new life. To make it so nobody could ever hurt none a y’all ever again. Especially come morning.”
“What happens in the morning?” Smoke asked.
Remmick told them.
He told them about Hogwood, his ties to the clan, and the plans they had for when the sun rose that morning. He told them where and how he’d gotten the information, how the transmission of blood and knowledge worked.
The brothers were suspicious of the tale, but it wasn’t too far-fetched from what they had already gathered. The room filled with an immediate and intense dread, even with the sounds of the party outside.
Remmick looked at Stack. The false innocence began to bleed out, his true hunger shining through. His voice got lower, quieter, and he spoke in a cadence that sent chills of horror down Stack’s spine.
“I’ve got Mary’s memories in here too, now. And boy, can I say she loved you, Elias. More n’ anything in this world.”
Stack’s eyes filled with tears, while Smoke bashed Remmick against the temple with the dull end of the stake.
“I want you to keep that damn filthy mouth a’ yours shut or I will teach you the meanin’ of regret. You understand that, boy?”
“Sure do, sir,” Remmick chuckled. It earned him another hit to the head. He grunted with pain, but didn't break.
“Just kill him, Elijah,” said Annie. “Not a single word out his mouth is worth a grain a shit.”
“Hold up, hold up now,” Stack interjected. He put an arm around his brother’s shoulders, getting close and quiet. “What if he’s telling the truth? What if they are coming this mornin’?”
“Well, we gon’ get ready for ‘em.”
“And then- say they come. We kill every last one of them. Then what?”
“What would it goddamn matter?”
Stack looked down at the creature beneath them.
“If he can really do that- get the low down from anyone he bites- wouldn’t that be useful to keep around?”
Remmick grinned, the innocent act failing him, but it seemed he didn’t quite care. He watched the brothers argue over his fate, eyes twinkling with glee.
“So fuckin’ what?”
“You think the klan is the end all be all of our troubles, brother?”
“We don’t even know if he’s telling the truth.”
“What if he is?”
Smoke was silent. Stack smiled brightly at him, but Annie shook her head, coming in to aid Smoke.
“Elias, you need to understand what we dealin’ with. This is a monster. Nothin’ more, nothing less. It can’t be trusted.”
“I’m not askin’ y’all to trust him, I’m askin’ y’all to trust me.”
Smoke inhaled heavily through his nose.
“Alright. But if he’s lyin’, he’s dead.”
“Deader ‘n dead,” Stack agreed.
Underneath them, Remmick burst into cruel laughter. Smoke shut him up by stabbing him in the shoulder.
They kept him tied down in the cellar while they regrouped and tried to hash out a strategy for the morning. They had to hide the seriousness of the situation from the patrons; it was their opening night and anything that went wrong now could sabotage their new business’ success when it was most crucial.
Although Annie didn’t agree with keeping the beast alive, she would do what she could to at least contain its destruction. It would be difficult, more so because of how old he was. Many of the standard rules didn’t quite apply to him, but Annie resolved to bind him, prevent him from harming anybody they cared about. She sent the brothers on the search for anything in or around the warehouse made of iron or silver. Iron was weaker- didn’t burn his skin like silver, but it did seem to sap him of his strength.
Stack found an old collar with an iron buckle, a lost possession of a large dog that may have once guarded the property. Annie accepted it graciously and got to work.
Stack had been dubious about the whole thing, Smoke nearly as much. The idea of that creature being ‘harmless’ was inane, but they both knew better than to disregard Annie, especially now. Especially when Remmick’s smug smile had twisted into an enraged snarl as soon as he lay eyes on the leather in Annie’s grasp. He writhed in his bonds, began hollering and threatening her, but it didn’t get him anywhere. The twins held him down, and as soon as the collar was clicked into place, Annie demanded his silence.
He shut up immediately, though he looked far from happy about it. He was puffing air through his nose, glaring at her as if he was trying to break her apart with his eyes, but there was an underlying cloudiness of fear in his gaze too. Confusion, helplessness. Like trapped prey. Stack watched in real time as he came to terms with his new situation, sitting with the realization that he'd be stuck where he was for a long while.
They left him down there in the dark for the rest of the night. Once out of the cellar, Annie stopped the twins and gave them a weighted look.
“I want to make sure I can trust you two not to let this get outta hand,” she said.
Smoke didn’t say a word, just silently nodded in agreement. Stack gave Annie a charming smile, but it was not returned.
“Ain’t never gotta worry ‘bout us, Annie.”
“I always gotta worry about you.”