Gates of Eden: Starter Library

by Theophilus Monroe

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “In time, child. In time, you will see.”

  8

  “SO, HOW DID your little book party go?” I asked. “You know, while I was being eviscerated by Moll and my father.”

  “Mercy,” Nico said, “I didn’t know this was her plan.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “Pain like that, tearing at your flesh… even if you are a vampire, you don’t forget it. It changes you.”

  “I can imagine,” Nico said. “If you only knew how I became a vampire… the first vampire…”

  “I suppose it would be rude of me not to ask. And, I do have to say, I am more than a little curious. Did that baron guy have something to do with it?”

  “Baron Samedi… yes… the Loa of Death.”

  “He made you what you are?”

  Nico nodded. “But it isn’t so simple as that. My human life. You probably presume I was some kind of cave man, some sort of primitive person.”

  “Well, weren’t you?”

  “Not at all. I was from another time, but not the past. In truth, I haven’t even been born yet. I won’t be for another century.”

  I scrunched my brow. “You really expect me to believe that you, the ancient of ancients, is from the future?”

  “Originally, yes.”

  “So your predictions of the future—those aren’t on account of your vampire abilities?”

  “It’s on account of my knowledge of history, Mercy.”

  “So how did you end up… in the past?”

  Nico smiled slightly. “You are a witch and also a vampire. Well, technically I’m a hougan and a vampire.”

  “What’s a hougan?”

  “It’s what they call priests in Voodoo. Though I must say, aside from dabbling a bit while having a brief affair with a mambo—a Voodoo priestess—about thirty years ago, I haven’t practiced much since I became a vampire.”

  “Well, why not?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe I just lost interest. Maybe it’s because it’s painful to remember that part of my life… before this.”

  “And you did some kind of Voodoo magic that got you turned into a vampire and sent back in time?”

  “Not exactly. Baron Samedi—the one you’ve met—someone brought him to Earth.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “I’m getting to that…”

  “Then by all means, continue.”

  “There are two sides to the baron. There’s a good side, flowing with green magic. The magic of life. But inside him there’s a more insidious nature, something almost demonic. Death magic. When he was brought to Earth—to ironically help banish another Loa, something more like a demon—he was in his better nature. But something changed. I took a part in banishing him to the Otherworld, but when I did, I got trapped there with him.”

  “The Otherworld?”

  “In Voodoo we called it Guinee,” Nico said. “You’ve read the Bible. You’ve heard of the Garden of Eden? It’s like a parallel world—a part of what our world was once supposed to be. But at some point it was severed from the rest, removed from both space and time. To make a long story short, I battled the baron in the Otherworld for years. Perhaps centuries. I don’t know. The sun never sets there, and I had no idea how much time had passed. But eventually, when we’d both grown tired of pursuing one another, he made me a deal. A bargain, if you will. He’d return me to Earth… if I was willing to bear something of his essence when I returned.”

  “And you agreed?”

  “I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I mean, in Voodoo we welcomed possession by the Loa. It was a part of our practice. But he meant something more than that… something that would transform me.”

  “He made you a vampire,” I said.

  “The first. And to uphold his end of the deal, he sent me back to Earth. Only, I assumed it would be in my own time. Instead, it was thousands of years earlier. Before Columbus even came to America.”

  “So what happens when the time comes… when you’re going to be born? When your lives overlap?”

  “I’m going to need someone by my side. Someone I can trust. Someone who can stake me until the time I disappear, during my eighteenth year of life.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said. “I mean, presuming I’m still alive a century from now.”

  “And after you bring me back… I want your help. I want my revenge on the people who left me in the Otherworld. Who abandoned me to the baron.”

  I smirked. “It would be my pleasure.”

  “Anyway, you asked about the man who’s writing the book…”

  “I did.”

  “The book he writes will become a classic. I know it because I read it when I was a human. His depiction of the vampires was so vivid, so real, that you’d think he actually met one. Well, come to find out, the one he met was me.”

  “You sought him out to write a book you already knew he’d write?”

  “Not at all,” Nico said. “I’d been in Dublin for a time. I required a feed. So I met a refined young man, an actor of sorts, and we began chatting. You know, like we typically do on the hunt. But during our conversation I realized who he was…”

  “The author of the book you knew?”

  Nico shook his head. “Well, when I knew that, I couldn’t just feed from him and let him be. I made him an offer—I’d tell him a story about what I really was. He could publish it, he could keep the profits, I didn’t care. And of course, since he was captivated by my allure, he readily agreed.”

  “So you told him your story?”

  Nico smirked. “Not at all. I told him the very story I’d read. He only thought I was telling him the story of my own life. You see, it occurred to me that we needed to control our image. I presented an image that would evoke wonder and curiosity, but also terror. He’s still working on the book, and when he arrived in country he begged me to see what he’d completed. I should say, it is as fantastic as I remembered.”

  “I still don’t get why this is so important,” I said.

  “Because after his book is published, everything will change for us. When people think of us, they’ll think of him… the vampire in Stoker’s book.”

  “I still don’t understand why it’s so important we create an image of ourselves,” I said.

  “Because in the future, a world is coming where it will be impossible for us to hide. But it will also be a world where people no longer believe in the supernatural, in witchcraft, or even in vampires.”

  “So, you’re basically turning us into legend.”

  “In a matter of speaking,” Nico said. “I’m making us into fiction. That way in the future, when someone says, ‘I think was attacked by a vampire,’ they’ll simply think the person crazy.”

  “Which means no one will ever want to admit if they were truly attacked by a vampire…”

  “Precisely. I have a number of plans to allure writers and producers of films…”

  “Films?” I asked.

  “Pictures that move,” Nico said. “Edison’s invention, already in the papers, kicks off something that becomes bigger than you’d ever believe. Eventually, they’ll have sound, and color, too. Imagine being able to go to a the theater but people all around the world could see the same performance all at once. And you won’t believe the hold they’ll have on people’s imaginations in the future. But I’m going to make sure our story keeps getting told. And I’m going to influence our image until the whole idea of what we are becomes something romantic. Something people desire and crave… to the point that maybe someday we’ll be able to live out in the open. We won’t have to live as a secret anymore.”

  “And you saw this work, in the future?”

  “Not exactly,” Nico said. “But I saw how in the future it might be possible.”

  “Sounds like a dream.”

  “Indeed, it is. But you don’t survive for thousands of years without a few dreams to keep you going.”

  �
��Or blood,” I said. “I am starving as hell.”

  “What kind of menu are you up for tonight?” Nico asked. “Perhaps you have a taste for something refined and sophisticated?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I want something spicy… something exotic… something that burns in my mouth…”

  “I know just the thing,” Nico said. “How about we find ourselves some politicians?”

  “But I said I’m not in the mood for refined and sophisticated…”

  “Trust me,” Nico said, “there’s no soul less refined and sophisticated than a politician’s.”

  9

  IT WAS NICE not to sleep in a coffin. The whole notion that vampires sleep in coffins on the regular was patently absurd—blame Nico for that myth. He’d apparently pulled all the strings when it came to the mythos surrounding vampires. Not that it was an inconvenient myth to propagate—if humans thought we only slept in coffins, they were less likely to seek us out elsewhere.

  The big thing was making sure we didn’t get zapped by an unexpected ray of sunlight. Better idea than sleeping in a coffin? A bedroom without windows. Even a basement or a cellar worked, too—provided it was equipped with a comfortable bed. Moll’s place was ideal—an old home, over-sized for an old woman living alone.

  Apparently she’d had quite a few kids when she was younger and she never moved, not even after her husband died young. The only problem was that all the bedrooms had windows, so Nico and I locked ourselves in the basement. It was dark, which meant if anyone came our way we’d be able to defend ourselves during the day, even if we had to stay in the basement to do it. After all, we could see in the dark.

  Plus, we expected the Order of the Morning Dawn to attack at any moment. When would they attack? At the morning dawn. In the basement, Nico and I could stay awake and alert for an extra couple hours, just in case.

  “I don’t think they’re coming today,” I said. “Dawn has come and gone by now.”

  Nico nodded. “I think that’s correct. Keep in mind, they believe it is only a witch they’ll be trifling with. They won’t dare confront her without ensuring that they’ve taken necessary precautions. In truth, not suspecting that she harbors vampires, they might not come at the morning dawn at all. They could come at any time.”

  “Maybe at night?”

  “Possibly. That would certainly be to our advantage.”

  A loud knock echoed from the first floor.

  “Do you think that’s the Order?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Unlikely,” Nico said. “Knocking isn’t exactly their style. They prefer to utilize the element of surprise. Do you hear the heartbeat of the visitor?”

  I tuned my ears in the direction of Moll’s front door, and I did hear it… tha-thump… tha-thump…

  “It’s just one person,” I said. “Must not be the Order.”

  “It could be a scout,” Nico said. “Someone posing as a salesman, or perhaps a policeman hoping to survey the premises in preparation for an attack.”

  I heard Moll’s footsteps as she shuffled toward the door. Her lock clicked and the door swung open.

  “You said the ashes would heal him!” my father’s voice echoed from the room above.

  “The ritual was not a success?” Moll asked, feigning surprise at the development.

  “Don’t pretend this is news to you, witch. You knew it wouldn’t work…”

  “Sir, it offered the best chance we had at saving him. But it was never going to make him completely well. It would only heal whatever damage the vampire’s bite caused. It would never cure him if he suffered another ailment.”

  “I only agreed because you said it would heal him!”

  “Tell me, sir, what symptoms did the boy show? Were they consistent with consumption?”

  “Yes,” my father said. “But when Mercy attacked him, I was sure it was her bite that had mirrored the symptoms. His condition was not grave until… she attacked him.”

  “Your preacher told you it was a demon, not your daughter. Perhaps that can give you some solace?”

  “I know my daughter,” my father said. “The girl who cried out… that was her. I’m sure of it.”

  “Demons can be quite persuasive,” Moll said.

  “Possessions are real. I believe it. But so are vampires—and there is a distinct difference.”

  “You speak as though you have experience in such matters. No matter who it was, what is done is done. There is no surer way to vanquish a vampire than to burn its heart.”

  “I am far from letting this matter go,” my father said. “If my daughter was made a vampire, then she alone is not to blame. There must be another who is responsible. Vampires do not appear out of thin air.”

  “You speak of the vampire who turned her?” Moll asked.

  There was a brief silence.

  “Where is he?” my father asked.

  “How should I know?” Moll asked.

  “I do not know your methods, witch. But after Edwin was attacked, I had yet to tell anyone of the matter, not even the preacher. Yet you approached me and mysteriously knew what had occurred.”

  “Vampires are supernatural creatures,” Moll said. “And their bites release an energy… a transmigration of souls. I am sensitive to such things.”

  “Then likewise, you must’ve sensed when Mercy was turned.”

  “Your daughter was in the sanatorium when it occurred. It’s a place of so much death that it is almost impossible to discern any specific energies in a place where so many souls are migrating to the beyond.”

  “Perhaps that’s true,” my father said. “But I still have one question…”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “I never told you that Mercy was at the sanatorium. I only told you she had risen from her grave. How did you know that was where she was when she was turned?”

  Moll hesitated a moment. “Well, she died of consumption, did she not? The sanatorium is the standard treatment. It was simply my assumption.”

  There was another drawn-out silence.

  “Very well,” my father said. “If you sense any other… activity… from the vampire who was responsible, I trust you’ll inform me accordingly?”

  “Of course, Mr. Brown.”

  “Thank you for your time.”

  I heard a strange rumble I concentrated harder. My father had been trying to secure one of those newfangled steam-powered buggies. Had he gotten one, even while supposedly mourning my death?

  “He suspects something,” Nico said.

  I nodded. “He wants you dead.”

  Nico shrugged. “Many have tried and failed.”

  “He’s grieving and angry,” I said. “He’s lost three children and his wife over short period of time. He’s looking for someone to blame. Maybe he just needs time…”

  “Maybe,” Nico said. “I don’t know your father. But few things are as dangerous as a man who wants vengeance, and more, a man with nothing left to lose.”

  “Then it sounds like my father needs to die.”

  “Mercy,” Nico said, “it’s your own father you’re talking about. He’s the last of your family…”

  I shrugged. “He’s never been much of one. And you heard him—he didn’t really think I was a demon. He heard my cries and stood there while Moll cut open my chest.”

  “Moll did that to save you, Mercy.”

  “But my father didn’t know that. He knew I was in pain—he knew I was his daughter—but he clearly had more hatred for what I’d become than he loved me for who I was.”

  “Be that as it may,” Nico said, “you can’t kill him.”

  “Why in hell can’t I?”

  “Because he wasn’t alone. Someone else was driving the buggy. And more than that, killing your own family… that will stick with you. I’ve seen vampires go mad for centuries after slaughtering their kin. And you already have the burden of your brother’s damnation to bear. Killing your father, too… you have no idea what that would do to you.” />
  “So these other vampires you say went mad… what happened to them?”

  Nico sighed. “Eventually, I had no choice but to stake them.”

  I smirked. “Can’t do that to me, now can you?”

  Nico looked at me intently. “All the more reason why it is essential to preserve your sanity… If the madness overtakes you, there’s no telling how many lives might be lost to your rage. And the more you kill, the more the madness will grip you.”

  I shrugged. “Fine. You kill him, then.”

  “No one is killing anyone,” Nico said. “Besides, if a vampire killing is already in the air—and you’d better believe it if your father knows, and someone else knows, whoever drove him here—it’s just a matter of time before the Order takes an interest in more than Moll. They know there’s a vampire in town.”

  “But we still have an advantage,” I said. “They think there’s a vampire that remains. They have no clue I’m still here, and more than that, they don’t know their stakes can’t harm me.”

  10

  THREATS WERE AFOOT—but I still had to feed. While the Order couldn’t stake me, according to Nico they had other methods at their disposal. Magic—ways of casting me into another realm, sending me to hell, that I’d still be powerless to resist. Unless, of course, I could fight their magic with some of my own. Still, I wasn’t as invulnerable as you’d think. And once anyone from the Order saw me and realized my heart had already been burned, any advantage my heartlessness gave me would be nullified. They’d come after me another way.

  So, we couldn’t risk anyone recognizing me. That meant we couldn’t hunt the way we had before. I couldn’t draw in someone by my allure, I couldn’t go to a public place. I had to approach this, in Nico’s words, the “old school” way. I’d have to lurk in the shadows, wait until someone was isolated, snatch them, but not in a violent way.

  Use my allure to convince them to take a drink, then bite. We figured, why not take out a step and wait outside a pub, snag someone who’d already been drinking? Nico would watch from afar, whistle when someone was turning my way, and I’d make short work of my victim. I had an extra flask in pocket, though, just in case the person hadn’t actually been drinking. I needed to be prepared for all contingencies.