Rain City Gothic: The Sanguine Lullabies, #1

By Peter D. Baker

She's trained with him. She's hunted with him. She's killed with him.

Now he's missing.

After the loss of her mother years ago, he is all she has left, and she will do whatever she can to find him.

They had made a pact, a rule never to be broken: If we don't hear anything after three days, we investigate.

Three days passed.

Now Bethany must take all her years of training, all the skills she developed, and leave the place she's called home her whole life.

What begins as a simple search and rescue soon turns into a violent meandering through the darkest recesses of the Pacific Northwest underworld as Bethany pieces together cryptic clues from her father's journal. Far from everything and everyone she knows and loves, Bethany must navigate this realm of secrets and peril—and for the first time, she must do it alone. Every step brings her closer to the truth but closer to danger. This is the way of things when infernal cults and hellish fiends are involved. Vampires are not forgiving.
Rain City Gothic is a story of devotion, betrayal, and redemption. It is a story of the human spirit and the lengths we will go to save the ones we love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter D. Baker
• Release date: Nov 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985661934

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Carl’s body ached where it met the cold asphalt of the alley, his muscles pulsing from the beating he’d just taken. Had he not decided to take a shortcut to the other side of the street, perhaps he could have escaped it. Sure, he would’ve gotten home two minutes later than he’d intended, but he also wouldn’t be lying broken in an alley at the hands of two opportunistic criminals. Opportunistic, and now? He thought he was hallucinating when he saw his two assailants mysteriously collapse on the ground. If he’d been able to make quick work of them, he wouldn’t be bleeding on the asphalt. Despite having had several fights in his amateur MMA tenure, he wasn’t immune to sneak attacks and a subsequent pummeling, which is exactly what had happened to him.

So, who took his assailants out?

An hour before his unexpected nap on the asphalt, he’d sat in a hidden, hole-in-the-wall bar with a colleague in an attempt to celebrate what many would think to be a crowning professional achievement.

You ever feel like just shutting it down and quitting? Jeff asked, looking at his beer mug.

Carl sighed, peering through the sparse remnants of foam in his own mug. All the time. Military tech pays well but working with the government, and knowing how they are, really drains the life out of you. But, he shrugged, I can’t afford to give up the life I have. I mean, I like providing for my mom and stuff because she can’t do it on her own.

You’re a good guy to look after her, Carl. I respect that. Jeff took a large swallow of beer as Carl leaned in for a deeper, heartfelt talk.

What good is all of this if we can’t help the people we’re close to, right? Carl said before he drained his glass. Well, I think it’s about time to head back home.

Yeah, I’m with you. We had a big day. Although, we could do another round. You up for it? Jeff looked at Carl, eyebrows raised in silent persuasion.

Carl looked at his watch and paused. Yeah, why the hell not?

Jeff let out a boisterous laugh. My man!

They signaled to the bartender for their refills and talked some more while they watched a baseball game play out over the TV, and when they finished, Jeff placed three twenties on the bar beneath the beer glasses. They walked out the wooden door as the sun finally started to set.

I love the summertime. It’s a quarter to ten, and it’s just now getting dark.

You think it’s worth it for the winters we get, though? Carl asked.

Life’s about the give and take. See you in a few days.

Later.

If Carl hadn’t drunk those beers beforehand and dulled his senses, he might have heard the door open behind him as they left, and maybe he wouldn’t have ignored the footfalls behind him. But then again, lots of people live in the city, and most of them walk. Hearing multiple extra footsteps wasn’t out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until the footsteps behind him picked up their pace that Carl knew something was amiss. He didn’t look back to see what was happening, but he quickened his stride.

The steps closed in. Finally, Carl gave in and turned around. He remembered little after the first hit. The heavy lead pipe disoriented his intestines and knocked the wind out of him. He expected to die there on that cold concrete, or at least drift into unconsciousness until somebody came across his sorry, beaten body. But then his attackers mysteriously fell to the ground.

Carl’s joints protested as he made a pointed effort to stand. As he rose to his feet, a mist floated through the alley, slicing at the moonlight to create silver, shimmering slivers of dim light all around him. The mist moved on its own, sentient and free-thinking. It stopped right next to him as he struggled to stay on his feet and he promptly fell back to the bricks of the alley. The mist stirred and swirled, finally coalescing into an anthropomorphic shape before it fully materialized into something apparently human.

Carl looked on, slack-jawed. A gaunt form towered above him, with taut pale skin, long black hair, sunken cheekbones, and eye sockets to match. Perhaps even more unnerving was the fact that this entity didn’t blink, nor did he breathe. He simply stood there, a tarnished, unnatural presence invading Carl’s mind, seeping in and filtering everything Carl was and would ever be. The figure pulled out an old jeweled dagger with an eight-inch blade and rolled up his left sleeve. Carl watched as the enigmatic figure pierced his own wrist with the dagger, seemingly in slow motion, allowing blood to flow.

Carl screamed at this abomination, but no echo of sound rang out. In fact, he couldn’t even open his mouth. He’d lost control of his mind as well as his physical capacities. The figure kneeled beside Carl and placed his wrist to Carl’s mouth. Carl tried to fight what was happening, but for some reason, he stayed lying on the ground, locked into place, unmoving and bereft of free will. The two locked eyes and even his terrified thoughts stopped.

This is blood for a new covenant, the figure said, making Carl drink.

Carl couldn’t resist now, even if he wanted to. He began to drink with fervor, slaking a thirst he didn’t know he had. As he drank the blood of life, he felt the burning relief of his internal wounds healing, as if unseen architects repaired his bodily cracks and tears. By all accounts, what should’ve taken days, if not weeks, to heal happened in seconds and it filled him with a euphoria the beers he’d drunk could ever match. Soon, Carl was back to his feet, and even his cracked pride reformed. Quickly, thoughts of opposing this being subsided. Not only that, he wanted more of his blood along with the desire to avenge anyone who’d ever wronged him.

What are you? Carl asked the figure as he stood tall, filled with fascination and terror, both of which stopped short of making him tremble.

I am eternal, he answered, and if you want, you can be, too. The figure pierced Carl’s gaze before he went on. What do you want, Carl? You can have everlasting life if you so choose.

What the hell? Are you some kind of vampire or something?

Carl was awestruck. The fact that he had been critically injured moments ago and now he stood there healed readied him to accept any answer the figure might offer.

That’s exactly what I am, the figure said. And now you are on your way to becoming one as well. If you so choose.

The figure never took his eyes off Carl, and still never blinked.

Before he was conscious of his actions, Carl walked forward. He followed this strange man, despite the absurdity of what had transpired in this alley.

The midsummer days are still long, but that period of time is dwindling now. Carl, you’re going to help me.

Carl stood on the precipice of fear. He watched as the figure before him shrank down, his limbs dissolving as he reverted back to the mist as he appeared initially. He stretched his form long and thin, presenting a trail to guide Carl on a new path. The mist stretched to the corner of the building at the end of the alley, and Carl felt beckoned to follow. The mist never broke as Carl followed, rather it built upon itself as a continual uninterrupted guide extended onward and leaving nothing behind. Now fully healed, Carl found himself mesmerized in every sense of the word. His vision allowed him to see the minutiae of the earth, as well as pierce the veil of city lights so he could gaze skyward. Yet, he couldn’t act of his own volition, even if he wanted to. Beyond the obvious superhumanity of the mist, Carl knew the figure was someone important to know. He had chosen Carl, and now Carl could sense tantalizing opportunities opening up for himself. He wasn’t sure he would even walk away at this point, even if he physically could do so.

Carl tailed the being for about a mile until they arrived at a nearby hospital.

The next thing Carl knew, he and the mist were in a parking garage on the top floor. The mist collected next to Carl reverting slowly back to its previous humanoid form. The vampire looked ahead intently, somehow grabbing the attention of a tall woman with long, blonde, wavy hair who was walking towards the exit door. She stopped and turned around, walking towards the vampire and Carl. Now fully realized, he stood next to the pair of humans almost as if he were one of them.

This is Ava, the figure said, extending a hand to the woman. She will explain everything.

He vanished into his mist form and let the wind carry him away, leaving Ava and Carl alone in the parking garage. The two looked at each other before either of them spoke. Despite the figure’s physical absence, Carl wanted him around. Carl didn’t ordinarily trust strangers, but he knew immediately that this figure would benefit him in some way, and after being around him for a small amount of time, any lingering distrust had dissolved. At the same time, he didn’t feel the same way about Ava. The sense of trust for her wasn’t there. At least not like it was for the vampire. Carl decided he wanted him back, but listening to Ava might help make that happen.

So, he found you? Ava asked. This will all seem very sudden and very new to you. It might not make sense now, or even in a few months, but trust me, you’re better off. I’m betting you’ve never felt these new sensations before, and you’d likely never have felt them if it weren’t for Anton.

"I take it that was Anton?" Carl asked, pacing methodically back and forth.

Did Ava mean to imply the encounter was more than a coincidence?

It was. Ava walked away from him and looked over the short wall of the garage and stared at the ground below her. He saved you, just like he saved me. All we have to do is help him, and we get blood in return. Among other things.

What other things? Carl imagined himself as a modern-day vassal overseeing a fiefdom under loyalty to Anton.

The usual. Money and power: literal, physical, and mental power. Didn’t you notice how good you felt after your first taste?

Yeah. And I’d just gotten the shit kicked out of me, too.

I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you anymore, Ava smirked. So, here’s the deal. We get his blood and we spread it out to select people to form a team. We’ll get the first crack at it, and we give it to the people he designates. Public officials, some police officers, people like that. It’s like drug dealing, but with blood and more sophistication.

And how do you not get caught?

We have ways to avoid that. Come back to my car for a second. You’re lucky that I drove today.

They walked back to Ava’s Honda Civic, where she reached into the trunk and pulled out a messenger bag. In the zipper pocket, there were two bags of blood.

These should get you through the next few days. She handed the bags to him.

What then?

We get the blood from him to the hospital, and I get it to where it’s needed.

Sounds simple.

It is. We can get a foothold in big cities and influence commerce and everything else our hearts desire. As an example, I might have redirected the tithing funds from the Archdiocese of Seattle into the blood bank here to keep the supplies flowing steadily. It was also a nice ‘fuck you’ to the Catholic church. Ava sat on the rear bumper of her car and looked up at Carl. We’ll keep in touch. Carl stood taller than he had in a long time as he took in a new level of knowledge. The sound and pulse of his blood had changed along with his psyche.

They exchanged numbers, and he walked out of the garage, eventually making his way back to his house. Carl walked in through his basement and up into the kitchen. The house was quiet at dark, but Carl felt like celebrating again. He celebrated what might be a new beginning for himself, basking in his newfound sense of godliness.

Long days dwindled into even longer, oppressive, rainy nights in Seattle as fall turned to winter. But right now, Carl had more power than he’d ever known and a bloodlust to go with it.

CHAPTER ONE

D o you want me to show you how to actually land that, or do you just wanna keep hoping for the best? Bethany readjusted her loose hair and cinched her hair tie around it as the sweat dripped from her nose to the floor.

Don’t be a smart ass. I taught you everything you know, Daniel said. My hair tie broke. Do you have a spare?

Bethany rolled her eyes. Do you have a spare? She lowered her voice a few octaves to properly mimic her father and pulled an extra hair tie from her wrist. The din of the other students slapping the mat and tapping out to arm bars and kimuras quieted before Bethany spoke again. It’ll be tough for me to sweep you that way since you’re about a foot taller than I am. But I’m gonna do it, anyway.

When they got to the mat, they bumped fists before they circled each other, anticipating the other’s opening move. Bethany kept a reasonable distance because of her father’s long reach and crushing grip. She knew if he clamped his hand around her wrist, they’d have to take it to the mat, or worse, she’d wind up locked in a submission. She also knew he seldom went for any other limb besides the wrist because it could easily knock someone off balance. So she feigned trepidation as she stepped forward, reaching for him.

True to form, his arm shot towards her as she stepped forward, and Bethany pulled her arm back and lunged forward for a takedown. Before she could grab his legs, he sprawled on top of her with his full weight, and as she predicted, he went for a guillotine choke. Bethany immediately protected her neck. In his attempt to land a submission, she broke free from him and scooted back, resetting herself with her feet pulled close as she leaned forward.

Daniel stood up in a low crouch, ready to pass her guard. Bethany knew she had him now, and it played out exactly as she envisioned: her father stepped forward and pushed her shoulder, knocking her on her back, she hooked the top of her right foot into the bend of his knee, grabbed his right ankle with her left hand, and shoved her left heel into his right hip crease. With a simultaneous push and pull, Bethany knocked her father flat on his ass. Despite having performed this sequence dozens of times in practice, the hundred-pound advantage her father had along with his height taxed her strength more than she anticipated.

You give yourself away every time you go for the wrist, she said.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Wanna try some boxing before we go?

You know, I would, but I think I exerted myself too much taking you down. We can take a rain check, though, Bethany said as she exaggerated her breathing to appear more exhausted than she was. She smiled when her dad side-eyed her, knowing she was full of it.

When they left the Gracie Jiu-Jitsu gym, Bethany started shivering immediately as the stiff wind mingled with the sweat soaked into her rash guard. She picked up her pace as she and her father made their way to her Saturn and promptly turned the heater on when they sat down.

Don’t forget, we have to stop and get flowers for your mother.

LeRoy’s? Bethany asked. Every December they bought a flower arrangement for her, and even though it was a solemn affair, it always served as a poignant bookend of a year gone by that she got to spend with her dad.

Yeah. You wanna add any flowers along with the usual?

No, your arrangements are always good.

They went to LeRoy’s and left with an arrangement of rhododendrons and star lilies wrapped together in a green ribbon before heading to see Bethany’s mother. They spent half an hour driving and came upon the opened iron gate fixed to the brick pillars and weaved their way deeper into the pines. The smell of cloves from the flowers mixed with the pine scent creeping into the car was Bethany’s reminder that winter had arrived.

You remember where? Daniel asked.

Yeah. I’m curious though. Why rhododendrons and lilies?

"Well, there’s a few reasons. Did you ever read Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier?" he asked.

No. And before you give me any shit, I know you have it. I just never got around to it.

Daniel laughed before he continued. Well, the title character is nothing like your mom. Completely opposite. In the book, Rebecca planted rhododendrons all around their mansion, and when she dies, they’re still there. It’s a way to show the reader that Rebecca’s presence is still there, influencing what happens at Manderley, the mansion. So it’s like a ghost story but stops short of being a ghost. In some ways, I feel like she’s always around. Lilies were her favorite flower. So that’s the short of it.

That’s really sweet, dad. Bethany took a slow breath as she watched a tear fall from her father’s eye and land on a petal of one of the lilies he held. She didn’t have the breadth nor the depth of memories of her mother that her father had but she held onto them stronger than the ribbon holding the flowers together.

If you weren’t a shorty, it’d be hard to tell you apart, you know. He sniffled as he wiped more tears away and smiled through his grief. You have my eyes, though.

Every year since 1994, Bethany accompanied her father to Pinewood Memorial Park to pay respects to her late mother. Every trip made her wonder what else she inherited from her mother beyond her looks. Her father sometimes said the strength of her convictions was as strong as her mother’s along with the voice that vocalized them, in contrast to Daniel’s reserved strength. Bethany’s memories were sparse, but Daniel spent eight years before that with his first and ultimate love. Twenty-five years passed since that day, and somewhere during that time—Bethany couldn’t recall exactly when, but it was some Christmas Eve in her mid-twenties—her father became something else. Instead of her dad, an often stereotyped one-dimensional man, she saw him as he was. He became Daniel, the man, and that man also was her father. It was this December day that she watched her father mourn, as he placed the flowers on the grave of his late wife, and she mourned for her mother and the part of her father that died with her.

Bethany watched her father stare at the headstone. It read:

Rebecca Belascoe

Born February 22, 1959

Died December 2, 1994

The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.

-Ida B. Wells

In a small glass covering beneath the inscription, a picture looked back at them. Bethany’s mother, in a chair, her hair unruly with a coffee mug in her hand.

What made you pick that picture? Bethany looked at her father, breaking his pensive gaze for the moment.

Daniel smiled, and Bethany could see him ruminating. She was beautiful in the morning. Wild hair, drool crust on her face, and everything that came with it. When we were young, we felt like we could change the world. Maybe we did, on some small level. Your mother was an exceptional woman, and this picture reminds me of it.

Bethany shed a tear at her father’s words as she looked at the headstone a while longer. She hadn’t heard him express himself to this degree in a long time despite being able to see it written all over his face. She watched him kneel before the headstone and kiss the encased picture before standing up and wiping off the front of his pants with his hands.

They left the grave and headed back to the Saturn. As they rode, Daniel spoke again. In the next day or two, get ready to head to Pierre with me, if you want.

Of course I do. What’s happening over there, anyway?

I suspect a vampire. I have more details written down at home, but I’ll fill you in when the time comes.

I think Aimee and I have plans the day after tomorrow, though, so that’s the only thing, Bethany said.

Well, I can do some more digging tonight and maybe we can make it out there tomorrow. How is Aimee, anyway?

Bethany let out a lingering sigh. Aimee is…Aimee. She’s fine. Between her family and job stuff, she seems stressed. I think that, and South Dakota itself, gets to her, she said.

Daniel chuckled in his seat. I don’t mean to laugh, because it’s not funny, but after all you and I have been through, one of the most uncomfortable moments I’ve ever had in my life was that Thanksgiving two years ago.

Oh god, Bethany groaned. After that, I wouldn’t have been upset if I didn’t talk to them ever again.

I can’t tell if it was worse or better than when I met your grandparents. Although, they cut me and your mom out.

Bethany looked over at her dad and asked, What were they like? She’d always been curious, having never met them before. It wasn’t like her dad to exaggerate much, but she wondered where her mom deviated from her own upbringing.

Intensely focused on the things that made us different, despite our similarities, he reflected. They were elitists, and their baby was too good for me. I was twenty-two when we met, and she was getting her doctorate. I was a cop, born in the South. If I had an accent, it might have been even worse. Daniel smiled as he recalled the memory. I think I really got to know your mom that day, and I knew I wanted to be there for her. She could’ve given in to her parents’ bullshit, but she looked out for me when she didn’t have to. She had this… he spent a moment searching for the right word, as he looked ahead, innate and intense sense of justice for people.

Bethany wondered if she and her partner would ever reconcile their own familial bonds in a meaningful way the way her parents did. Yeah, despite her parents, Aimee’s pretty wonderful, all things considered. Bethany pulled into the driveway of her childhood home and dropped her father off.

Before he closed the door, he leaned back in. I’ll let you know more about Pierre. But plan for tomorrow.

Will do. Later, dad.

CHAPTER TWO

The next day, the wind blew hard and rhythmically enough to affect a branch outside the kitchen window of Bethany’s apartment. The bare, desolate tree limbs reached out like a venous network, foreshadowing winter’s imminent arrival, but Bethany only focused on one. She couldn’t help it, thanks to the constant tap-tap-tap on the windowpane. Bethany sat on her couch with Aimee’s head resting in her lap, framed by a thick head of blonde hair coming from all directions. Bethany couldn’t focus on the TV, though, only the incessant noise of the barren branch tapping on the windowpane.

Have we talked about Christmas plans yet? Aimee asked, interrupting the percussive music of the wind and flora. You and your dad are welcome to have dinner with my cousins and me.

Bethany watched whatever flashed across the screen, suddenly aware of it after Aimee broke her trance, but didn’t look at Aimee when she answered.

Bethany sighed. Sucks that your parents still haven’t gotten over us yet.

Fuck no they haven’t. But that’s what happens when you never leave Rapid City, South Dakota.

Bethany hesitated before speaking again. I’m not sure what we have planned. Dad might be out of town. I know for sure we’re going to Pierre later on tonight.

Aimee groaned. More work? Are you still not going to tell me what you’re doing out there?

Really? Bethany asked. We’ve been over this. It’s about confidentiality and protecting privacy.

"What about our relationship and the trust we have?" Aimee asked.

I don’t see what my job has to do with that. If I were a doctor, I wouldn’t tell you about patients either. That’s also unethical and illegal.

"But you don’t tell me anything!"

There’s not much to tell. We snoop on people, Bethany said. Besides, our jobs are the least interesting things about me and my dad.

Aimee shifted and leaned back on the arm of the couch, looking right at Bethany. Yeah, but I dump a lot of my job woes on you every day.

You also teach kids, which I imagine can be fun and exhausting at the same time. If I play my cards right, I don’t have to talk to a single human at all besides my dad, Bethany said.

Sometimes I get—

Bethany’s phone rang, cutting Aimee off mid-sentence.

Fuck, Bethany cursed. One second, Aimee. Then, into the phone, she said, Hello?

I’m heading over, her father said before hanging up.

He’s on his way to pick me up, she relayed to Aimee.

Yeah, I heard.

Bethany could feel her subtle irritation.

I should go and do some grading anyway, Aimee continued. See you tomorrow.