Bloodliner

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  "What?" He said it without turning to look at her, hoping she might go away. "What do you want?"

  "I want you to tell me what your problem is." Stanza kept her voice low. The car was dark, and most everyone was asleep.

  Jonah turned to look her in the eye. "No problem at all." It made him feel good to hold something back, since she'd been keeping so many secrets from him. At the same time, it made him feel awful. Underneath the hurt, he still cared about her.

  "I know you're upset about something," said Stanza. "Let's get it out in the open."

  "I told you, I'm fine." Jonah folded his arms over his chest and hunkered down to go back to sleep. "There's nothing to talk about."

  Stanza leaned closer. "We're going up against some dangerous people. Some real monsters. If we don't trust each other, we won't survive."

  "Trust." Jonah snorted. "That's a good one."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" said Stanza.

  Jonah sighed. "Why should I trust you if you don't trust me?" He smirked and shook his head at her. "You only ever tell me the bare minimum to get by."

  "That's not true, Jonah," said Stanza.

  "Bullshit!" Jonah suddenly sat up straighter. "I know nothing about you, other than that you're over a thousand years old! I know nothing about what my parents had to do with all this or why they really hired you! And I know less than nothing about what you're really after in all this!"

  Just then, a man in the seat in front of Jonah turned and said something angry in German. Jonah guessed he'd been talking too loud and lowered his voice. "Tell you what, Stanza. If you tell me a few things, I'll tell you what my problem is. Only guess what?"

  Stanza raised her eyebrows.

  "Then it wouldn't be a problem anymore," said Jonah.

  "I see." For a long moment, Stanza sat and returned his stare, if not his hostility.

  For his part, as Jonah gazed into her beautiful, mismatched eyes—one sparkling hazel, the other amber flecked with ruby red—he had a hard time staying hostile himself. She was so close, leaning toward him in the darkened train car; all he had to do was lean a few inches closer, and they would be nose to nose.

  Mouth to mouth.

  It was something, he realized, that he wanted more than anything. More even than the truth, perhaps. The problem was, it didn't look like he'd be getting either one anytime soon.

  "The more you know, the more danger you're in," said Stanza. It was the same thing she'd said on the street in Berlin. "I'm sorry."

  "What are we really looking for, Stanza?" Jonah pushed aside his anger and focused on her with desperate, pleading intensity. "How do the vampires plan to get into Heaven?"

  Stanza opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. The look on her face was one of deep regret. "It's better if you don't know yet. Trust me."

  Jonah slumped back in his seat. "Then when will you tell me?"

  "Soon." Stanza looked away, then back. "I'll tell you this much for now, though. You and Mavis are the keys."

  "Keys to what?" said Jonah.

  "Tomorrow," said Stanza. "The future."

  "The future?" Jonah frowned.

  "Which is why I have to protect you," said Stanza. "At all costs."

  "I thought you just did that because you got a cash bonus every time you saved my life," said Jonah.

  "Not all bonuses are monetary." Stanza reached over and patted Jonah's arm. "Now are we okay?"

  Jonah shrugged. "You tell me."

  Stanza narrowed her eyes and stared at him. "Not quite," she said, "but I think there's hope."

  "Think what you like," said Jonah, and then he rolled over to face the window again. "I don't care."

  But the truth was, as he watched her reflection watching him in the window glass, he did care, and he did think there was hope. After all, she'd finally told him a secret. What he thought seemed to matter to her.

  And his arm still seemed to glow with the lingering warmth of her touch.

  *****

  Chapter 46

  The first thing Jonah noticed when Arthur broke open the door to Nicolo's apartment in Rome was the sweet smell of flowers. The fragrance only grew stronger as he followed Arthur and Stanza inside.

  It wasn't what Jonah had expected. How much of a high priority could cleanliness and air freshening be among people who were all about blood-sucking and parasitic feratus and erotic rites with human-shaped blood puddles?

  Then again, Jonah realized, maybe there was no one on Earth who needed strategic scent control more than vampires.

  "Welcome to Castle Borgia." Stanza flipped on a light. "Looks like it's all clear," she said, but she didn't put down her gun.

  "No surprise there, given the lead he has over us," said Arthur. "The question is, can we catch up to him?"

  "That depends on where he went," said Stanza. "And how much of a trail he left behind."

  As Stanza and Arthur fanned out across the apartment, Jonah and Mavis drifted in their wake, looking around. Jonah was surprised at what he saw, and he soon realized Mavis shared his impression of the place.

  "It's too neat." Mavis dragged a fingertip along the edge of a bookshelf. "And clean." She held up her finger, and Jonah saw there wasn't a smudge of dirt on it. "I didn't know vampires dusted."

  "Some of us can be pretty reclusive," said Arthur. "Stuck at home with nothing to do. It's easier to clean than make friends."

  Jonah shook his head and whistled softly. The apartment was immaculate to the point of overkill, from the sweeper tracks still visible in the beige shag carpeting to the clear plastic zip-up covers encasing the sofa and chairs.

  And the place was bright, too. Though no sunlight leaked in through the blackout curtains on the windows, the décor was bizarrely airy and cheerful all around. Paintings of butterflies and hummingbirds hung on the lemon yellow walls; baskets of fake daisies and daffodils and lilies occupied the glass-topped coffee table and end tables. Throw pillows shaped like the faces of kittens and puppies were carefully arranged on the plastic-covered sofa with its pattern of white, pink, and yellow carnations.

  Not to mention the lace doilies and curio cabinet filled with Hummel figurines.

  Mavis let out a laugh. "Does a vampire live here? Or somebody's sweet old granny?"

  "Are you sure this guy's a descendant of Lucretia Borgia?" said Jonah.

  "According to Conrad," said Arthur.

  "And the mail." Stanza was in the kitchen, pushing around envelopes on the counter. "'Nicolo Borgia.' He's still using his birth name after all these centuries."

  "Wouldn't that make it easier for people to figure out he's a vampire?" said Mavis.

  "Makes it easier for his old vampire pals to find him, too," said Arthur. "Being an immortal can get kind of lonely sometimes, you know."

  Stanza smacked the kitchen counter. "What I want to know is, where does he keep his day planner?"

  Jonah looked around for some kind of clue, but he didn't see any obvious hiding places in the bright and orderly living room. There were no stacks of magazines or papers, no scratch pads or notebooks, no clutter of any kind. He saw nothing stuffed between the throw pillows and sofa cushions, and he found nothing when he got down on his knees and looked under the sofa, either.

  Meanwhile, Stanza rifled through drawers and cupboards in the kitchen, and Mavis rummaged in a closet. Arthur pushed open the bedroom door and crept through the dark doorway with sword drawn.

  Seconds later, Arthur called out from the bedroom. "I found it."

  "What?" said Stanza.

  "His...planner, you called it?" said Arthur. "His plans."

  Jonah shot to his feet and hurried to the bedroom. Just as he crossed the threshold, Arthur switched on the ceiling light, revealing everything.

  Which amounted to absolutely nothing.

  Jonah scowled and planted his fists on his hips. "Is this a joke?" The room around him was completely empty, nothing but bare walls, bare hardwood floor, and bare ceiling (except for a single
domed light fixture).

  "No joke, my friend." Arthur frowned and shook his head. "It's all here."

  Mavis pushed in behind Jonah. "So where is it? Behind a secret panel? Under a loose floorboard?"

  Arthur walked to a wall and tapped it with his fingertip. "It's right in plain sight. Right here."

  "On the wall?" said Jonah.

  Arthur turned and spread his arms to encompass the room. "On all the walls. Can't you see it?"

  "What are you talking about?" said Mavis.

  "We can't see it, Arthur." Stanza spoke from the doorway. "Only you, my lord."

  "Ah." Arthur nodded. "It's written in lingua nox, then."

  "So it seems," said Stanza.

  "Lingua what?" said Jonah.

  "Lingua nox." Stanza paced the room's perimeter. "Latin for 'language of the night.' A special kind of writing visible only to those who can see in the dark."

  "Vampires, in other words," said Arthur.

  Lightly, Stanza brushed her hand over a spot on the wall. "Scientifically speaking, it has an enhanced thermal signature. It gives off trace amounts of heat, which is visible in the infrared spectrum. Non-vampires can't see it without thermal imaging equipment."

  "Which we don't have," said Arthur, "do we?"

  "You'll have to be our eyes," said Stanza. "So tell us, what do you see?"

  Arthur rubbed his bearded chin and squinted up at the blank white wall before him. "The mark of Cruentus Estus, for one thing. A tidal wave in a sea of blood."

  "Cruentus Estus?" said Mavis.

  "It means 'Bloody tide,'" said Stanza. "It's a secret vampire religion. An ancient, worldwide church that worships a vampire God."

  "Sounds scary," said Mavis.

  "Only the fundamentalist sects," said Stanza. "They believe that a coming apocalypse will give vampires dominion over all living things. That the world is destined to become a vampire paradise."

  Jonah thought back to the night when he'd first met Stanza and Mavis in Arizona. "Is that who came after us in Tucson? In Mavis's church?"

  "Yes," said Stanza. "Nicolo must also be working for them."

  "So they're looking for the same thing we are?" said Jonah. "Paradise? Empyrea?"

  "Apparently." Stanza pointed up at the wall in front of Arthur as if she could read it. "What else do you see?"

  "Lots of scribbled notes." Arthur spoke slowly as he scanned the hidden text. "He was studying something."

  "What?" said Stanza.

  "His ancestors." Arthur dragged a finger along the wall, tracing something Jonah couldn't see. "He has drawn a family tree here—a massive one." Arthur reached the corner and walked around it, still dragging his finger. "He follows his family line back through the medieval kingdoms of Italy, then other nations...but he seems especially interested in ancient Rome. A series of Roman ancestors on his mother's side, going back further and further, and...by the Grail!"

  Stanza touched his arm. "What is it?"

  "This is incredible." Arthur stepped up to the wall for a closer look. "Impossible. According to this, Nicolo Borgia is descended from a myth. A man out of myth."

  "Like King Arthur?" said Jonah.

  Arthur cleared his throat. "Did I say impossible?"

  "Who is it?" said Stanza.

  "Hercules," said Arthur.

  "The Hercules?" said Mavis.

  Arthur nodded. "The Roman demigod and hero." His finger traced an invisible line on the wall, then stopped and tapped what looked like just another bare spot. "His father's right here: Jupiter, king of the pagan Roman gods."

  "Wait a minute," said Mavis. "Does that mean Jonah and I are also descendants of Jupiter? Since Nicolo is our ancestor?"

  "If Nicolo got it right," said Stanza.

  "Wow." Mavis grinned and shook her head. "Maybe this explains my attraction to religion."

  "What else is up there, Arthur?" said Stanza.

  Arthur moved to a fresh wall and gazed at it thoughtfully. "More about Hercules. Lots more. I see notes about his famous Twelve Labors, and...this is interesting." Arthur squinted and rubbed his chin. "Something about a thirteenth labor. The lost labor of Hercules."

  "What about it?" said Stanza.

  Arthur read for a moment. "Nicolo seems to think it's connected to Empyrea. That it involved the secret of Empyrea. He found a reference in an ancient text...but he couldn't find the full story of the thirteenth labor. It's been lost to history."

  Stanza sighed. "So this is a dead end."

  "Maybe not." Arthur read a new section of wall. "Nicolo wrote that there's one man who knows the story of Hercules' thirteenth labor. He set out to find him."

  "Who is it?" said Mavis. "Who knows the story?"

  "Hercules," said Arthur. "The original."

  "So how did Nicolo plan to find him?" said Jonah. "Scale Mount Olympus?"

  Arthur didn't answer at first. Stepping closer to the wall, he traced something invisible with his fingertip...then shook his head and grunted. "That can't be right."

  "What?" said Mavis.

  Arthur backtracked with his finger, then followed the same unseen line on the wall. "He's going to Herculaneum—the Roman city built in honor of Hercules. But Herculaneum no longer exists, does it? It was destroyed in ancient times in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius."

  "Well, they've dug it up since then," said Stanza, "but it's only ruins. A tourist attraction, not a city."

  "Nicolo seemed certain he'd find Hercules there on a particular day." Arthur tapped the wall with his finger. "Do the people of Herculaneum still celebrate the Feast of Hercules on June 29?"

  "Not since the Fifth Century, they haven't." Stanza folded her arms across her chest and tipped her head thoughtfully to one side. "What else does it say?"

  "Something about a doorway in the temple of Hercules," said Arthur. "Some kind of altar. And 'nectar.'" Arthur snorted. "He underlined that part three times. Nectar."

  "Sounds important," said Jonah.

  "Anything else?" said Stanza. "Are there any more notes about Hercules or Herculaneum or the thirteenth labor?"

  "No." Arthur turned from the wall. "That's all I see."

  "All right then." Stanza snapped her fingers. "I think we have what we came for."

  "We do?" Jonah frowned. "Like what?"

  "Everything." Stanza spun and marched out of the bedroom. "Now let's get going."

  Jonah followed her out. "Going where exactly? Herculaneum?"

  "But Hercules won't be there, will he?" said Mavis. "No one but tourists."

  "We'll fit right in." Stanza flung open the door of the apartment. "We're going on a tour, too."

  "Of the ruins of Herculaneum?" said Mavis.

  Stanza shot a smirk back over her shoulder. "Who said anything about ruins?"

  *****

  Chapter 47

  Tourists poured through the ancient ruins like pigeons swarming handfuls of bread. The bright midday sun made their water bottles sparkle and their white t-shirts and tennis shoes flare.

  Jonah swung his sunglasses down from his forehead as he stepped off the Italian tour bus. "Which way to the dimensional portal?" he said. "Or the trap door to the underground realm?"

  "Neither," said Stanza as she stepped off the bus behind him. "Herculaneum is a different animal."

  "So how will we know if we've found a clue to Empyrea?" said Jonah. "You won't even tell us exactly what Empyrea is."

  As expected, Stanza offered no comment. Instead, she helped Arthur off the bus. "Careful, your majesty."

  "Thank you, milady." Arthur wobbled down the steps, holding on tight to Stanza's hand. The huge, wraparound sun-goggles he had to wear left him half blind.

  "Let me help." Mavis moved in to take Arthur's free arm. "Watch your step now."

  Stanza and Mavis guided Arthur up a paved walkway into the ruins, and Jonah followed. The paved surface gave way to polished gray cobblestones leading between rows of stalls and small buildings.

  Jonah got a chill as he crossed the
threshold and looked around at the ancient structures. He knew a little about the place from reading a brochure on the bus from Rome.

  Over two thousand years ago, everything around him had been buried under mud by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Everyone living there had died, and the mud had preserved the town from deterioration by the elements. Like nearby Pompeii, also buried by the same eruption, the excavated ruins provided a window on the past.

  "This way." Stanza turned down an alley leading off the main cobblestone street. The alley was mostly dirt and grass, with a few scattered cobblestones...and no tourists.

  Jonah ran his fingers over the walls of ancient buildings as he passed. They were nothing special to look at, just the backs of stalls and sheds, some waist-high, some eye-level or higher.

  They were built before Jesus Christ was born.

  At the end of the alley, Stanza turned left, guiding the group down another cobblestone street. She walked through a gap in a low boundary wall that marked off a block of property with a big, boxy building in the center.

  Stanza and Mavis helped Arthur through a doorway into the building, and Jonah followed. Inside, sunlight streamed through windows and the open ceiling into a huge space. Jonah thought it might once have been divided by walls and floors into multiple levels and rooms, but he wasn't sure.

  I'd like to see this place the way it was before the eruption.

  Stanza, Mavis, and Arthur gathered around what looked like a stone altar in the middle of the floor...or maybe it was just a table. As Jonah drew up to the group, Stanza scrubbed her fingers on the underside of the slab atop the altar. They came away caked with black grime flecked with tiny white specks.

  Stanza thrust the dirty fingertips into her mouth. They were clean when she pulled them back out.

  "Help yourselves, everyone." Stanza patted the altar. "Get a nice big taste."

  Mavis grimaced. "Do we have to?"

  Stanza grabbed Mavis' hand and rubbed it under the altar, then held up the dirty fingertips for Mavis to see. "You don't want to be left behind, do you?"