Bloodlines

by Drew D'Amato

  “Oh shit.” Old Dog, for the first time, saw the enemy following after him. He gripped the trigger for the claymores.

  Pacami ran past the line for the claymores and nothing happened, but he was too close and the platoon could not set them off without killing Pacami and Potato. He had about twenty more yards to go. Then a bullet ripped through Potato’s left thigh. It hit no major arteries. Potato would spend months recuperating, and would always have a limp in his left leg, but he would go on to have a long, fulfilling life thanks to Pacami. If Pacami had been selfish and never picked Potato up that bullet would not have hit Potato. It would have gone through Pacami’s neck. Saving Potato had saved Pacami’s life.

  He knew Potato was hit, but he had too much adrenaline in him to stop running. If he didn’t see his men there, he might have just dropped to his knees and ended it all. Now he knew there was some hope so he pushed on. He got about ten yards close to the rest of the group and the NVA started to get close to the wire. By now some of the men of the platoon had turned around and faced Pacami. Pacami was five yards from the platoon.

  “Now Old Dog!” Ambrosia yelled.

  Old Dog hit the claymore button. The wire exploded out of the ground and about six of the NVA that were just at the wire got killed, surprised to death. The platoon shot down the three other Vietnamese. That threat was over. The explosion had thrown Pacami and Potato into the ditch with the rest of the group. When he landed everything went black.

  4

  The light shined bright into Pacami’s eyes making him squint. He sat in his uncomfortable seat in the middle of the bus taking him home. He had finished his tour. The seat did not bother him, nor did the ride. He was on his way home. He had gotten out of that hell called Vietnam. The day he lost his friend stood out as the worst memory of his Vietnam experience.

  He looked down at his Purple Heart as he sat on the bus. Rubbing his hand over it, he thought about that night. He got that medal for saving Potato’s life, and breaking his left arm as he fell into the ditch. He was now a hero like his father. He knew that wasn’t true though. He was just lucky, like his father was.

  He was going home to a world where no one fired bullets at you. Where everyone you met did not try to kill you. A world where he could feel safe for the first time in a year. It was then that he remembered the deal he made. The Lord had kept up his end of the bargain, now he had to keep up his. There had to be some sort of divine intervention. How else did he not die as he ran through that jungle with Potato over his back? There were nine of them, how could none of them have hit him? How could he run that fast with a wounded man over his shoulders? The Lord even tested him. He was alive because he tried to save a man. He would have been dead if he didn’t. He proved himself worthy to the Lord. He knew God had something planned for him. He had no physical scars after the war, just the mental ones. He felt he was destined to be part of something bigger.

  Pacami got off the bus that day, spent some time with his family and when he was settled in after a few days, he started to work toward his new life. This was the start of Father Anthony Pacami, a man who would always keep up his end of the bargain.

  BOOK II:

  THE COURTING OF

  JASMINE O’REILLY

  ONE

  1

  Pacami stood behind the altar singing along with the opening hymn. Two young altar boys stood to the right of him trying to sing along with the words. Young Father Rios stood to the left of him singing the hymn perfectly in tune. None of them could tell that something ate away in the back of Pacami’s mind.

  “And now the first reading from the Book of Exodus,” Father Rios said from the podium. His voice boomed through the PA system of the church, and then he returned to his chair.

  A man named Peter got up from the first pew on the left of the church and walked to the podium. He opened up the big Bible on the podium and started to read aloud through the microphone. At Divine Saviour, like many Catholic churches, the priests do not read the first or second readings. Extraordinary ministers—devoted followers who went to church regularly, but were still just lay people—did that and also helped pass out communion.

  Peter started to speak. Pacami and the rest of the church sat down during the reading. Pacami zoned out and thought to himself. He had already heard this excerpt countless times before, and his attention was lost. Nothing in the mass seemed to take Pacami’s attention off the vampires. Then a figure dressed in black came through the front door of the church.

  2

  Vlad had not attended mass in centuries. He was curious as to the how Catholic Mass in this new millennium operated. The crucifixes and holy water gave him a slight headache but he could survive with just a little nausea.

  He came in late and sat at the back of the church. Sweat started to form under his hair. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and the sweat was visible from his brow. His gloved hand produced a red handkerchief from inside his black suit jacket pocket—the colors of the Order—and he dabbed his forehead. Jericho tried to talk him out of this plan, but he wanted to show Pacami his good side. He didn’t come here to intimidate, he came to show he cared. He also wanted to see Pacami work.

  Pacami raised his head from his seat and looked at Vlad. Vlad smiled back at him. Pacami now started to sweat himself. He was nervous for those in the church. What did this creature have in mind?

  The first reading was finished. A hymn was sung next, people rose for it, and then sat down to wait for the second reading. Vlad remembered the practice of kneeling, standing, and sitting. It was implemented far back to prevent anyone from falling asleep. A young woman got up to give the second reading. There was something about her that got Vlad’s attention.

  Vlad could not keep his eyes off of her as she walked to the podium.

  “A second reading from St. Paul to the Romans,” she said. “BESEECH you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto God, your reasonable service.”

  The reading was about followers of God choosing good over evil, and through choosing good they would be transformed. The promise of heaven that kept people interested in the church. But Vlad was not interested in what she was saying, it was her voice. It sounded familiar to Vlad. Could it be her? he thought. No, that’s not possible. Stranger things were possible in this world. Her eyes had a dark jade color to them. She would quicken Vlad’s heartbeat if he still had one. Her black, straight, fine hair, Vlad could remember the smell of it. Her sharp nose and soft big lips, this brought back an old world to Vlad, one that he had not lived in for quite sometime, and her voice. Vlad could never hear enough of her.

  This was not just a regular kind of attraction. In fact in all the years Vlad had existed, he never went crazy for any female—except his first wife, Elizabetta.

  “Be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil by good,” she said, and then stepped down.

  When she sat down, Vlad kept his eyes on her. Here he was in his first day back in church and he was already thinking impure thoughts. What kind of a road back to salvation was he taking? She was beautiful and he was probably not the only man in here thinking something naughty about her, but he was the only one in here who was a vampire and that made him feel a little more guilty.

  3

  The rest of the mass continued the way a mass normally did—more sitting and standing and kneeling and singing. Vlad paid attention during Pacami’s sermon. The gospel reading was from Luke, the story of the prodigal son. The story was of two sons, where one of the sons left his family, and his home to go out into the world. The son had wasted all of his money and was starving in the world. He had to return home to live, but worried what his father would think of him. He returned home expecting his father not to take him in, only to be surprised by his father’s reaction. The father had a great party for him. But the other son got jealous and did not know why his father was so happy to see this son who walked out on the family. This brother of you
rs was dead and is alive again, he was lost and is found.

  It was a story of repentance, forgiveness, and being welcomed back. Pacami’s sermon reflected the gospel’s reading. He told his parishioners that Christians must forgive, and they have to accept people back into their lives if they are apologetic and humble. He practiced what he preached. He did accept Vlad. But seeing Vlad now in his church, and with this being the choice of the Gospel for the week, it was too much of a coincidence for him. He stumbled over his words as he spoke.

  “People will want a second chance. They will come to you and ask for it, and you must…ah…ah, um…allow them this chance.”

  It was getting the best of his nerves. Vlad was not the only one in the church who noticed this. Father Rios looked over at Pacami from his seat at the altar. Pacami decided to wrap it up.

  “Even if before they were lost, it does not mean that now they are not found.”

  Pacami went back to his seat and avoided eye contact with Rios or even the altar boys. He couldn’t explain his aloofness.

  The clergy started the Eucharistic rite next. After Pacami spoke the ritual and the priests and altar boys had their communion, the time came to share it with the rest of the church. The priests went down to the front left pew and gave out the communion to the two people who gave the readings. Peter and her. The two of them each took a dish full of communion wafers, and stood in front of the church. There were now four lines forming at the front of the church. Pacami, Rios, Peter, and her, each stood in front of their own line passing out communion.

  Vlad had to get closer.

  The people got into line working their way down the pews and finally it was time for the last pew, Vlad’s. The people to the left of him stood and waited for him to make a move. He took a pause to decide and then got up. He walked at a slow pace behind the man in front of him. After a few people, he came into the sight of Pacami. Pacami looked at Vlad and took a brief stop in his actions, amazed at what he saw. Taking communion couldn’t be a good thing for a vampire, Pacami knew that much. Yet there he stood with about three people in front of him in line.

  Vlad stopped looking at Pacami and turned his attention to her. She gave out the communion with a smile. It came to Vlad’s turn. He stood at a point where he could go right to Pacami or left to her. He did not take this risk to see Pacami. He walked to the left line.

  She held up the circular communion. Vlad fixed on her eyes, but she had no more of a thought of him and smiled. “Body of Christ,” she said.

  Vlad opened his mouth, braced himself, but still not taking his eyes off her. She put the Eucharist in his mouth. He closed his mouth and stared at her. She looked back at him and continued to smile. That made him happy. He walked down the outside aisle chewing the communion. He started to feel hot and sweat came out of his temples in little beads. His head felt queasy. He got to his row and put his hand on the armrest but decided not to sit. Instead he walked to the back and out the front door.

  Outside, the sun felt like it was infecting his head. He started to get dizzy. He spit the communion out of his mouth. Vlad walked to his limo where Jericho was waiting. Halfway there, he passed out on the front lawn of the church.

  TWO

  1

  Vlad opened his eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was—on his couch in his first floor parlor. The parlor sat in the back of the house, after the kitchen. Jericho, Michael, and Pacami had stood over him waiting for him to wake up. Vlad looked at a clock hanging on the wall. The time was one in the afternoon. He sat up on the couch.

  “Let me be the first to say that that was the dumbest fucking thing you have ever done,” Jericho started.

  “Why would you do something like that?” Pacami asked. “Didn’t you know Eucharists are blessed and they will hurt you?”

  “It didn’t kill me, did it?”

  “It didn’t make you stronger either,” Jericho replied. “Why did you do that?”

  “I had to see her closer up.”

  “Who?” Jericho asked.

  “Pacami, what the hell is he talking about?” Michael asked him.

  “I think he’s referring to Jasmine, the girl that gave him the communion,” Pacami answered.

  “A girl?” Michael asked. “You took a risk like that because of a fucking chick. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “That’s her name, Jasmine, who is she?” Vlad asked as he stood up from the couch and now at eye level with them, focused on Pacami.

  “Jasmine O’Reilly, her family is a very proud church going Irish family. They are rich too, her father owns those Irish pubs, Sarah’s. They’re all over LA and Burbank.”

  “I heard of those, I think I was in one once. It’s a pretty nice bar if you like Guinness,” Jericho said.

  “Yes, well her family is pretty wealthy, Sarah is the name of her older sister.”

  Vlad sat back down on the couch. The other three of them followed suit, taking a seat. Jericho and Michael sat on the loveseat to the left and Pacami to the recliner on the right, leaving Vlad alone on the three-cushion couch in the middle. Vlad held his chin in his hands.

  “Jasmine O’Reilly,” he said in a quiet tone to himself.

  “What the hell do you care?” Jericho asked.

  “She reminded me of Elizabetta.”

  “Who was Elizabetta?” Pacami asked.

  “She was my first wife. I loved her with all my heart, one of the few people in my human life that I ever truly did love. She was the one who threw herself out of the tower into the Agnes River in fear of Radu.”

  “And Jasmine looks like her?” Pacami asked.

  “I have never forgotten what she looked like. That was her, her eyes, they still look the same.”

  “Vlad, I think you need to watch some porn,” Michael said.

  “Really master, she’s not your love. Your love is dead,” Jericho said.

  “No, that was her, reborn it had to be, and I have to find out more about her.”

  “Vlad, people are not reborn,” Pacami said. “Meeting you and learning about your existence and the life of Judas, proves the divinity of Christ, and reincarnation is not a tenet of Christianity.”

  “Father, your knowledge of Judas should be a hint to you that the New Testament is not the word of Christ but the word of Rome. Constantine in 325 AD deleted elements of the New Testament that referenced reincarnation, because he felt if his citizens thought they had another chance to live they would be less obedient. He wanted them to believe in just one life and one judgment. But he failed in deleting all signs of it. Even in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus insinuates that John the Baptist was the reincarnation of the prophet Elijah: And if you are willing to accept it, John himself is Elijah who was to come. It was her, Father. That I am sure.”

  “So what are we going to do? You want to make her a vampire?” Jericho asked. He was upset over the whole topic. At first he thought his master took the communion as a leap of faith, but now he realized his master was smitten with a woman who looked like his dead wife. Was this for real? Was he losing all perception? They had other things to worry about—like Radu.

  “No, I would never give her the curse. Father, what do you know about her?”

  “Vlad, I don’t think she should be your main concern right now,” Pacami said.

  The words of the priest brought him back to reality. Vlad dropped his head back and thought to himself.

  “You’re right. I’m blowing this out of proportion. It’s just that for a small moment I felt human again. Something to live for.”

  “Okay, you back to fucking normal now?” Michael asked.

  “Yes.”

  The front door opened. They turned their heads to see who entered. It was Malachi.

  “Malachi, we are in the parlor,” Vlad said.

  Malachi walked through the kitchen into the room with his sunglasses and black leather jacket on as Vlad introduced him.

  “Malachi this is Father Pacami, Father this is
Malachi, one of my strongest warriors.”

  “A priest? You brought a priest here. Is he a Crusader, is he the source?”

  “A Crusader?” Pacami asked.

  “Father Pacami is not one of them,” Vlad said.

  “So you brought your average, everyday priest to your house? Are you losing it?”

  “You should have heard what happened before,” Michael said.

  “What happened before?” Malachi asked.

  “Enough with that,” Vlad ordered.

  Jericho got up from his seat and walked toward the bar in the corner behind the couches. He grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and said, “I need a drink, anyone else?”

  “I’ll take a Johnnie Blue,” Michael said.

  “I’ll take a Maker’s Mark,” Malachi said.

  Jericho walked over with their drinks, all of them straight and on the rocks. Malachi took his drink and then a seat on the couch to the left of Vlad. “So, why is he here?”

  “We have talked about becoming human again, if we got hold of the coffer and Radu was dead. For that procedure though, we will need a priest.”

  “Okay, well, we have not reached that point yet. What do you want to do about Radu?”

  “Still kill him at his house. But this time we have to give him a good reason to go back there. I think my possible surrender will work.”

  “You’re going to let him think you’re giving up?” Pacami asked.