The Chronicles of the Immortal Council: The complete 10-book collection

by D C Young

  “As you wish, Mister Telfair,” Gladys responded.

  I was aware that Miss Moon was a vampiress and wouldn’t be able to consume tea any more than I could, though her reason was a matter of life and death and mine was a matter of choice. I set my mind upon a bottle of pinot grigio in a modest amount for my guest who would arrive at any moment. I went ahead and poured my mixture of bourbon and Coke.

  My family had been drinking the distilled spirit of Kentucky since the 18th century, in fact, even before it was referred to as bourbon. My great granddaddy and granddaddy even made a sizable portion of the money that bought the land and built the stately home on Seagull Point from making certain that thirsty folks in Georgia had plenty to drink during Prohibition. There is even a long running joke in my family that the psychic powers that were passed down from my mama to me were brought on by the consumption of bourbon, though mama never touched the stuff.

  “Devil in a bottle,” she’d called it, though, from what I could tell, she didn’t hold any particular grudge against the devil. She had one against Yankees though and she took up my granddaddy’s side of things whenever there was a discussion about how those damned Yankees got off telling people what they could and couldn’t do; a sentiment that might have been more appropriate in the 1920s than in the latter 20th century.

  “Mister Telfair,” Gladys called out, interrupting my thoughts about my mama. “Miss Samantha Moon has arrived.”

  “Miss Moon,” I beamed, clapping my hands together as I rose to meet her. “Welcome. Welcome. Will you join me for some afternoon tea?”

  As I greeted her, avoiding touching her for obvious reasons, I extended the glass of wine toward her and saw her smile. She knew that I was knowledgeable about her dietary requirements and was making accommodations for them. I think that it was in that instant that there was a connection made between the two of us. A connection based upon mutual respect and admiration; well admiration on my part anyway, I can’t speak for Miss Moon. In that same moment, I also made up my mind about how much information I was going to give her during that first visit; none.

  She really didn’t waste any time at getting down to business, though I had to correct her when she insisted on calling me, Mister Telfair. My daddy and granddaddy were referred to as, Mister Telfair, I’m just Rennie, especially to my friends. I was certain that Samantha Moon and I were going to be friends. Judging by her reaction to the fact that I was withholding the critical information which I had for a later time, I also learned that she was the patient sort.

  Wanting her to know plenty about me and hoping to, someday, have the same opportunity to know her better, I told her of the history of my family in South East Georgia, of our philanthropic activities and the numerous projects that had been funded and bore the names of particular Telfair family members, though I left out the part about how much of that money had been gained through illegal activity. It was better to save that sort of thing for when you knew someone better. And I did want to get to know her better. So, I invited her and her family to join me for a weekend at Seagull Point. To my great delight, she accepted.

  Chapter Six

  Tammy

  I see dead people… everywhere!

  As soon as we stepped off the plane in Savannah, I was seeing ghosts. I could tell my mom was too. She always did a slight double take when she spotted them. It was a little tic, almost. I don’t know if anyone else ever noticed but because I usually saw exactly what she was seeing, it was easier for me to discern.

  There was a woman standing by the door of the finger dock looking expectant as if she were waiting for someone she knew to disembark the plane. When the door closed behind the last passenger leaving the aircraft, she hung her head sadly and moved down the concourse to the next arrival gate.

  We walked down the concourse pulling our carry-on luggage behind us. There weren’t many passengers making their way towards baggage claim; we’d traveled on a fairly small aircraft from Atlanta. After a short walk, the concourse opened up into a wide atrium which served as a food court and meeting area. There was little to no security; but I guess that’s how smaller domestic airports were. Funny, they would classify Savannah- Hilton Head as an international airport.

  The atrium was filled with potted plants. It was so green, like a greenhouse almost. The outdoors coming in was refreshingly different from the modern white and stainless steel décor of the concourse and it was obvious mortals weren’t the only ones that found it attractive.

  Everywhere I looked, there were spirits wandering around. An old man sat in one of the colorful rocking chairs that lined the center aisle through the atrium. He was reading a newspaper; holding it open with both hands. No one else saw him, but the chair mysteriously kept rocking back and forth slowly on its own. No one tried to sit in that rocking chair. I stopped for a second and smiled at him and he winked back at me with a mischievous smirk on his face. Suddenly, I felt mom hold my hand and give me a tug.

  Time to move on…

  The old man nodded at me and went back to reading his newspaper.

  We followed the other passenger who seemed to know where they were going. That took us onto an escalator that went down into the baggage claim and exit area.

  At the information desk, I saw a man dressed as a taxi driver leaning up against the desk doing his best to get the attention of the clerk who was sitting behind it. Of course, she didn’t see him.

  “I need a map, Ma’am. They’ve changed everything downtown and I just can’t get around down there anymore. A whole bunch a’ one ways and ‘No Parking’ signs. It’s a helluva mess,” he said. But she didn’t acknowledge him.

  My cousins took off towards the information booth when they caught sight of the thousands of colorful brochures and other printed paraphernalia.

  You know how kids can get.

  While mom and Mary Lou divvied up the responsibilities, I offered to order us an Uber and then went to help Uncle Rick round up the young ones. When he was wrangling his three unruly youngsters away from the captivating mountain of printed paper, I snuck a map down and handed it to the ghostly taxi driver. Honestly, I was surprised that he could take it from my hands. But he did and a wide smile spread across his face.

  “Just don’t go getting into any accidents, okay,” I said to him softly. I mean, I didn’t want to look like the crazy teenager who talks to thin air. “It’s dangerous on the roads these days. Buckle up and stay safe.”

  He nodded at me, then turned and vanished as he walked through the exit doors.

  I sighed and looked down at my phone, opened the Uber app and ordered the XL car my mom had asked for.

  Soon we were on the way to Tybee. Our driver, Dani, was a really awesome person. I could tell she was a rebel or rockabilly type, even under all the professional business attire. Her waist was cinched in and her ample bust enhanced by what must have been a steel boned corset under her jacket. Her ears were pierced twice with one of them stretched out to maybe a ‘0’ gauge. She had both sides of her nose pierced and what I thought was a septum piercing with the jewelry turned up into her nose so the average client couldn’t see it.

  But I’m not your average client, Miss Dani, I am Lady TamTam! Detective and paranormal liaison extraordinaire!

  The ride through downtown Savannah was surreal. After a while, I noticed my mom stopped looking out the window and focused her attention on chatting with my Aunt Mary. I decided to follow suit. Everywhere spirits roamed the streets of downtown Savannah, later that week we would find that fact also extended to the historic district and further afield as well.

  There’ll be plenty of time to ghost watch.

  When we got to the villa, I was relieved to find there were no transparent residents in sight.

  Personally, I’d rather have only humans hanging around the place where I sleep, thank you very much!

  As soon as I had chosen my room and unpacked, I picked up my Journal, found the next blank page and started to write down the new
est adventure of Lady TamTam.

  I had a feeling this vacation would provide more than enough material to write my best story yet!

  Chapter Seven

  Lady TamTam

  Lady TamTam rested her right hand on the hilt of her katana as she stared downhill into a copse of trees. At her feet was the detritus of her latest victim. A minor vampire that she’d wanted to talk to, but he’d pissed her off so he was now dust.

  Young men and women gathered in the small forest. If she rolled her eyes any harder at them, she’d see her brain. Each pale face had red lips drawn on them and fake fangs in their mouths. She sighed. Vampire wanna-be’s.

  Then someone new entered the circle of followers, making Lady TamTam stand straighter and put a tighter grip on her weapon. A tall, lean vampire held the rapt attention of those in the trees; a real vampire, one that Lady TamTam had never seen in the area before.

  The last thing she needed was another vampire stirring up trouble. Based on the young girl kneeling at his feet while tilting her head to offer him her neck, this was more trouble than usual.

  The thing she needed was more damn vampires in her territory. Especially young ones. At least the old ones knew the rules. She would kill them if they didn’t find another place to live and tell her who made them. The young ones had no sense of decorum. She didn’t want to waste her strength on them, but they asked to be killed.

  Currently on the search for new nests, Lady TamTam now realized with chagrin that one had developed without her knowing it.

  “Dang nabbit!”

  She needed to get down there before the man made the girl another vampire. Lady TamTam could whoosh down there, but she had a feeling his followers would take her out. Hmm. Let them disassemble while making a new creature of the night or risk getting killed and take out this vermin now?

  She didn’t like her odds, but then again she’d walked into worse situations. With a whoosh, she appeared in the woods.

  The followers were initially stunned as she swung her sword at their leader. It was silver tipped and as long as that part struck him, he’d be dead.

  But he’d moved. Faster than she’d ever seen a vampire move. His followers were beginning to come out of their stupor. A deep, evil laugh reached her on the wind.

  “You are no match for me, Lady TamTam.”

  “How the hell do you know my name?”

  She spun in his direction, leading with her katana. No such luck. He’d jumped out of the way.

  His minions were beginning to grab at her. She didn’t want to kill innocents, but if they pissed her off she would. Shrugging them off, she advanced on the vampire.

  “At least let me know your name before I kill you,” she said.

  He threw back his head, laughing. “Why I’m the King of the Vampires.”

  She didn’t see the humor in and she saw humor in most things. How did one get to be King of the Vampires? She didn’t even know they had a king.

  Didn’t matter. His reign would be short. She slashed at him, but once again he managed to get out of range. Was she losing her touch? Or was it the fact that he was an old vampire with a lot of power.

  “Tell your vampire hunting friends that my people will not take it anymore,” he said.

  “Take what? Being turned into dust? Tough.”

  He laughed again and she took that moment to run at him. He sidestepped her. She glanced back at his followers. They gathered at one end of the forest. Good. She wouldn’t have to kill any of them. Those bodies were much harder to dispose of.

  They began to chant. It sounded like they were in church. She rolled her eyes, and then concentrated on her target. She had no idea who he was or why he’d come into her territory, but he was going out as dust in the wind.

  She never failed so it didn’t matter how many times he laughed. She would take him down. Wiping her mouth, she faced him with renewed vigor.

  “Prepare to die.”

  “Au contraire, Lady TamTam. I’m going to be very much alive. We will meet again, but today is not the day of my death.”

  This time she could detect a hint of a French accent. Great. Now vampires were illegal aliens. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate. Vampires were coming here from other countries.

  She didn’t care what his country of origin was; he was still going to be dead. Dust. A former vampire.

  “Pretty words, but they don’t mean a damn thing to me,” she said.

  She advanced on him. He stepped back. She stepped forward. He stepped back. Into a tree. She smiled. She couldn’t help it. He was toast. Or dust. Hers, no matter what.

  She lunged at him, but her katana only caught the tree. Something flapped past her.

  “Shit.”

  She yanked her sword out of the tree, but the vampire was long gone. “Damn.”

  Now she had the followers to deal with. She swung the katana in an arc then whooshed herself out of the copse. No one followed.

  When she reached the top of the hill, she paused pulling out her phone. Someone higher up needed to know about this.

  Chapter Eight

  Mary Lou

  Surviving River Street.

  Damn, it’s hot today! I thought to myself as I sipped on a strawberry daiquiri from Saddlebags bar.

  The sun was shining down on River Street that afternoon and I was ever so thankful for Savannah’s open container law… as long as it was in a plastic cup, we could walk on the street with it no matter what it was. As selfish as it might sound, seeing as Sam’s ability to imbibe was limited by her ‘condition’, we always had a designated driver. But Rick and I had both planned on taking full advantage that day, so we’d called our airport Uber driver, Dani, to help us out for the trip downtown.

  The trees planted along the street were also casting generous amounts of shade which was greatly appreciated as well. The weather had been pretty mild up until a day ago when the sun started shining as if it had nowhere else to shine but on Savannah. The kids had loved that of course; they spent most of the day at the villa on the beach getting as brown as five little beans. Even Tammy hadn’t been able to resist the call of the waves.

  The cousins had found a turtle nest, seagull roost and countless other wonders of nature along the beach and most evenings they would take to the shore and walk for miles. I’d observed them from the balcony doing things I remembered doing with Sam and our other siblings as kids; skipping stones, hunting for sticks, picking berries and eating them straight from the bushes in the garden.

  I don’t think I’ve seen those kids so happy and at peace in a really long time…

  Innocent, that was the word I think I was looking for. In any case, whatever it was, I was glad they had found it on this trip.

  I looked around for them as I sat for a minute on a wrought iron bench facing the river. Tammy and Anthony were reading the names on the bricks around the World War II memorial. It was a huge monument featuring two halves of a cracked Earth; a world divided in two. All over it and around it in concentric circles are the names of the fallen and the missing who served in the war from the Greater Savannah area.

  My three were on their hands and knees making paper and charcoal rubbings of any famous last names they could find to take back to their teachers at school in the Fall. They all looked very happy.

  Sam stood near the river bank in the full sun, taking photographs. She loved the warmth of the sun on her otherwise cool skin. She reminded me of a turtle laying out on a rock in the pond to bask in the sun and warm up. We’d both referred to this new condition as her cold-bloodedness; it wasn’t disparaging, just a fact.

  I was glad to see her back at her photography. It was something she’d enjoyed before becoming a vampire; something she’d ceased to get enjoyment from. But now, she was taking it up again and it made her happy.

  Everyone’s happy, Mary Lou. Happy, happy, happy! What makes you happy though?

  Seeing my family like this… that’s what makes me happy. We’ve had so many
close calls and losses the past ten or so years; weathered so many storms and had so many triumphs. It was just great to see everyone relaxed, rested, enjoying a moment in time without the memories or influences of the past bogging them down.

  We were having new experiences, doing new things and even meeting new people.

  Speaking of meeting new people…

  I looked at my watch. It was about that time. We had to get going to the other side of the Hyatt hotel. Some friends of Sam’s, Vaughan Sisters, were supposed to be meeting us by the Savannah Belles Ferry to take us on a tour of the East end of River Street.

  Personally, I just wanted to have lunch, let a bartender pour another strawberry daiquiri in my cup and get my hands on some of those famous pralines I’d heard so much about!

  Chocolate covered, please!

  Within the next fifteen minutes, I’d managed to accomplish the first two things on my short list. The pralines came later but they were definitely worth the wait. I wouldn’t leave until I had two one-pound boxes filled with four different varieties of their pralines.

  After that, we shopped for souvenirs and cute little antiques at the end of the street. The walk back up to the street level wasn’t too strenuous but when we realized how far we were from where we’d agreed to wait for Dani, Rick stepped out to the edge of Bay Street and hailed a taxi for us.

  By the time, Dani had the car pointed down US 80, there were kids nodding off to sleep and tipsy adults who couldn’t wait to get back to the villa and order pizza for dinner.

  Chapter Nine

  Tammy

  I saw a vampire today…

  Yeah, you read that right… I saw a vampire today, and it wasn’t my Mom.

  We were in the Bonaventure Cemetery when it happened; strolling down the walkways and looking at the cool old graves. There was a small group of people who looked like they were visiting one of the family plots. It was a beautifully arranged one; one of the more elaborate sites. A statue of an angel the size of an adult woman sat on top of the crypt, wings folded and with her head rested on one hand as if she were deep in thought… or grieving.