LANCELOT

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I figured you wouldn’t want to help me build it.” Lancelot ripped off the rest of his shirt and windbreaker. He then motioned Serge into the room housing his coffin. “I hope they have some spare clothing lying around.”

  Serge flipped on the light in the back room, and winced at the bright fluorescent glare. Inside the room, three rows of ornate coffins gleamed under the lighting, with five coffins in each row. Five cots with bedding were in a fourth row, and some clothing had been discarded on top of each cot. Lancelot went down the row of cots, sifting through the clothing. He settled on a sweatshirt and jacket laid out on the second cot. They fit him tightly, but were wearable.

  “This one’s mine.” Serge walked over to a mahogany casket in the second row from the far wall – one with stainless steel trimming.

  “Friends of yours?” Lancelot gestured at the closed coffins.

  “I don’t know,” Serge shrugged. “Why do you think they were going to kill me?”

  “They knew you were lying,” Lancelot answered. “They might have believed it if Devon had returned.”

  “Someone at the top on this side may be able to sense whether you or your companions live or die,” Serge offered thoughtfully. “Should we check these other coffins?”

  “Yeah, we need to find out how many are out there. It looks as if we took care of all the were-beasts. You pull up the lids, and I’ll take care of business,” Lancelot directed, taking his silver knife in hand once again.

  Nodding, Serge walked over to the first coffin in line at the far wall, with Lancelot moving around to face him over the casket. “I’m pretty sure these are all empty. Otherwise, there would have been help out there for the ones we killed. Those cats screamed loud enough to wake the dead.”

  “Aren’t these caskets soundproof?”

  “Not for a vampire, Monte. Some may have been coerced in the same manner I was.”

  “Don’t you ghouls get together for reunions and trade suck-stories, Fang?” Lancelot retorted, as Serge flipped open the first coffin lid. It was empty.

  “We keep to ourselves.” Serge moved onto the next one, with Lancelot assuming the same posture across from him. “I had two working for me in the business I owned, and we supplied some others in the area around there. Mostly, though, we hunt, take what we need, and heal them up. If too many vamps get in the area, things get testy.”

  Serge opened up the casket, and quickly moved on after confirming that it was empty. He and Lancelot hurried through the rest, sensing that the vampires were out. Serge’s coffin took only moments to load into the Escalade rear compartment. While Lancelot acquired a van from the warehouse front, Serge drove the Escalade off to the side, and then helped Lancelot load the bodies and stray clothing into the van. Lancelot held up a gas can he had picked up from an equipment-shed at the front.

  “We’ll have to bungee-cord the back doors closed,” Serge said. “I saw a few in the room. You’ll have to drive carefully, Monte. I don’t want my casket ending up on the freeway.”

  “I’ll make a note, Fang. Nice of them to leave us with a lighter,” Lancelot observed.

  “The warehouse has a sprinkler system,” Serge pointed out, looking up at the rafters. “How far do you want to go with the bonfire?”

  “Just the van will do,” Lancelot replied. “If it explodes-”

  They heard a vehicle approach and halt at the front - then the sound of doors opening. The two companions hurried to the front, taking up positions on each side of the small entrance. Serge sniffed the air. He held up a hand, drawing Lancelot’s attention. Serge pointed at himself, and then held up two fingers. Lancelot nodded. Someone unlocked the door and opened it. The group of three walked through the door. Lancelot slammed it behind them.

  “Kara?” Serge sighed, his eyes lifted in surprise at a well-dressed woman, who had crouched at the ready near a human male and a male vampire. “What brings you here?”

  “Intrigue and power, Serge,” Kara straightened, gesturing at Lancelot’s shadowed form. “Who’s your friend?”

  “The target!” Kara’s human companion spat out angrily.

  “Oh, my,” Lancelot whispered in almost a reverent whisper, as he gestured warningly at the other male vampire. “Hello, sprout.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Modred

  “I’ll give you three anything! Kill him…kill him now!”

  The male vampire rushed at Lancelot. Serge grabbed Kara’s hand and pulled her over near him. Lancelot caught up the attacking vampire by the neck and slammed him into the warehouse wall. Light flashed off the blade of silver as Lancelot buried it in the vampire’s heart. As the vampire withered into dust, the man who had accompanied the vampires ran, only to be pinned face first to the warehouse floor in the next instant by a laughing Lancelot.

  “Where are you running off to, sprout?” Lancelot asked, pulling the man to his feet and dusting him off with his hand. “You just got here. Stick around, so we can catch up on old times.”

  The man held by the scruff of his neck looked at Kara pleadingly. “Anything…Kara…anything. The whole world… Kara…the whole world will be ours… Remember?”

  Pulling away from Serge, Kara watched Lancelot with interest.

  “You should not be here, except in chains,” Kara told Lancelot in a voice peculiarly seductive and menacing. “This is not how things should be.”

  “Tell me how things should be,” Lancelot replied, shaking the man he held. “Tell me why you would even know how things should be.”

  “This is all a celestial game,” Kara replied, gesturing with her right hand as she took a step toward Lancelot. “You’re meant to play this out, not murder the players.”

  “Don’t sport with this man, Kara,” Serge warned. “If his dusting your friend wasn’t enough to impress you, he’s already dusted Santo and Devon and killed four shape-shifters without breaking a sweat.”

  Kara stopped, her face betraying the shock she felt. “You killed Devon? Shit…how can this be, Modred? You told me that Lancelot would be in chains, that his friends would be at our mercy, and Arthur would be within our power. I should never have left it for you to do.”

  “Modred?” Serge repeated questioningly, moving nearer to the man Lancelot held by the scruff of his neck, peering at his face. “This is the creature you killed once at…ah-”

  “Camlann,” Lancelot finished for him, staring intently at Kara.

  “This is some intricate mock-up of Camelot from a thousand years ago?” Serge turned to Kara. “For what purpose, and what have you to do with it?”

  “Camelot inspired the imaginations of millions,” Kara replied, backing away from Lancelot. “It changed Western Civilization. The events this time will be different. Modred will triumph. The hordes will beat down the West, paving the way for chaos.”

  “How is it you know all this?” Lancelot asked.

  “I am part of it.”

  “Morgan Le Fay…” Lancelot’s voice trailed off as his mind tried to grasp this new ingredient. “Why are you a vampire, and the sprout here human?”

  “He will ascend to the Presidency instead of Arthur,” Kara replied, seeing anger seeping into Lancelot’s demeanor as his fist tightened on the clothing at Modred’s neck.

  “I heard differently.” Lancelot spoke softly through clenched teeth.

  “From whom?” Kara laughed. “From the water witch and that tired old joke, Merlin? Don’t you ever get tired of being used like a dancing bear?”

  Lancelot grinned menacingly while glancing at Modred. “I’m going to change things a little, this time, Kara.”

  Kara waved a hand with dismissive arrogance. “You can’t kill Modred, fool. He’s just like you: invulnerable. You may be able to hurt him, but he’ll survive.”

  “I don’t think so.” Lancelot held the terrified Modred at his side, keeping his eyes on Kara. “Serge.”

  “Nooooooooooooooooo…!” Kara screamed, as Serge tore Modred’s heart out of his chest. Lancelot met Kara’s
charge with the twitching corpse.

  She collapsed to her knees, holding Modred, who lay with his eyes wide and his mouth moving in silent recognition of death. Kara stared in disbelief as the light faded from Modred’s sightless eyes.

  “Welcome to my world, baby.” Lancelot nodded at Serge.

  “Hummm… hummm…good.” Serge repeated his familiar taunt as he threw Modred’s drained heart to the floor and licked his fingers. “Sorry to see you’re in on all this, Kara. We had us some good times, once.”

  Serge turned to Lancelot. Kara simply held Modred’s corpse without moving, her eyes unfocused. “I’m not dusting Kara, Monte. If you want her done, you’re going to have to do it.”

  “I’d like to bring her with me for Vivian to see, and eventually, Merlin. If you can keep her from trying to rip my throat out, I’ll take her along. If you can’t, I’m going to tear her head off, right now.”

  Serge smiled at Lancelot. In a blur of motion, he ripped Kara up into the air, burying his fangs in her neck as she thrashed around wildly, eyes blazing and fangs gaping at empty air. Lancelot, seeing what Serge had in mind, clamped the hapless Kara’s arms and feet down. Serge drained her to the point where Kara’s head lolled to the side, and her limbs hung limply when Lancelot released her.

  “You’re not going to need to feed for days, Fang,” Lancelot observed.

  “Man, I feel good…” His features flushed, Serge laughed. “Draining shape-shifters, vamps and immortals does a body good. Let’s get her over to the room. Kara can point out which casket belongs to her, and we’ll load it.”

  “With her inside,” Lancelot finished for him, clapping his friend on the back. “You’re good at this, Serge. Do you have to get back overseas soon?”

  “I’ll just call my workers, and turn it over to them for the time being.” Serge carried Kara’s inert form toward the back room. “I’m not missing this act for anything. I may have missed Camelot the first time around, but there’s no reason not to be on hand for the replay.”

  Having grabbed Modred’s body and heart, Lancelot followed Serge to the rear. “This game is getting a hell of a lot more complicated, my friend. “I’ll tell you one thing: I didn’t hang around for a thousand years just to see this turd lord it over the world.”

  “That particular turd is already in hell,” Serge added, walking inside the room with Kara while Lancelot added Modred’s body and heart to the pile of corpses in the van. “C’mon, Kara, my love, nod when we go by your casket.”

  When Serge passed a dark oaken casket with brass insets, Kara groaned. Serge opened up the coffin, and deposited Kara inside. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, stroking her face with his hand. “Night-night, baby.”

  Serge closed the coffin, and with Lancelot’s assistance carried it out to the Escalade, along with the bungee cords Serge had spotted earlier. Serge bungeed the two coffins together, and then the doors of the Escalade.

  “Wow, tight fit,” he observed, looking over his handiwork. “I’ll drive the Cad out and wait for you to finish up. “Don’t forget to throw some gas on all the blood, Monte. You can spread it thick in the van, and then douse a cloth hanging to the floor from the bodies. Trail the gas from there to all the blood. The fire will flame all the DNA before the sprinklers kick on, and you’ll be right by the door for an exit.”

  “Thanks, Fang,” Lancelot said. “Say, do you have any extra clothes? You smell like a charnel house.”

  Serge looked down at himself with disappointment. He sighed, and immediately stripped, handing his clothing to Lancelot. “I’ll wear what you left by the door – the clothes Kara’s friend vacated.”

  “Good, but make sure you shake him out of them first,” Lancelot directed, throwing Serge’s clothes in the van.

  * * *

  Vivian heard the safe-room door open. Lancelot walked over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

  “Viv, can you cast one of those spells to keep a vampire in one spot?”

  “Sure,” Vivian sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Where, when, and what for? I thought Serge was your friend.”

  “He is. We have another vampire visitor in a coffin down in my cellar. I’d like to save any complicated explanations until Serge and I get back from ditching the Cad we used to transport the coffins.”

  “Okay,” Vivian agreed, as Lancelot handed her a robe.

  “Wow, nice cellar,” Vivian said, looking around the huge below-ground room. It was fully decorated and had a locking entrance near the stair landing.

  “I told Monte you wouldn’t need a spell,” Serge said as Vivian waved at him from the doorway. “Kara’s my bitch now. My friend doesn’t believe me.”

  “Better safe than sorry, Fang.” Lancelot led Vivian to Kara’s coffin. “She’s in this one.”

  Vivian put both hands on the coffin and closed her eyes. It glowed momentarily, and then Vivian backed away. “Done. Better get back soon, Knight-Boy. We only have a few more hours before baseball camp.”

  “Thanks, Viv. See you in a half hour. It’s nice to see that you have your touch back.”

  Vivian nodded, and trudged back up the stairs.

  It was nearly five o’clock in the morning before Serge abandoned the cleaned Cadillac Escalade with keys in the ignition on the corner of International Boulevard and Thirty-Eighth Avenue. Lancelot picked Serge up in his Pontiac.

  “So, you really think Kara is under your power?” Lancelot asked.

  “Yep. When a vamp gets drained by another vamp to the point at which I drained Kara, they lose their will,” Serge explained.

  “Why didn’t Devon do you, then?”

  “Because, my friend, Devon knew he would have to find out which of us truly was the most dangerous. Luckily for me, he didn’t want to solve that riddle as yet. Devon knew the foreplay would have been extremely brutal.”

  Laughing, Lancelot nodded agreeably. “Okay then, we’ll try it out tomorrow. How long can she last in the state in which you left her?”

  “She’ll start losing her mind in a couple days. Until then, she’ll be fine. Are you sure Kara’s that dangerous bitch you once knew?”

  “She’s Morgan Le Fey. Identifying her required a closer look because she’s a vampire, but I’m certain. How do you know her?”

  “We had a little thing going for a while in Paris around 1900. It was one of the reasons I went on vacation to Paris, where I met up with my former buddies now decorating your carpet.”

  “Merlin will confirm it for me later.” Lancelot drove into his driveway and remotely opened the garage door. He then parked his car in the garage, closing up the door after parking. “Want to play some baseball later on this morning?”

  “I’ll take a rain-check on the offer,” Serge replied, exiting the car, and following Lancelot inside the house. “I look awful in daylight. Besides, I need my beauty rest.”

  “Okay then, I’ll see you later. Thanks for the help.”

  “De nada. Say, Monte, do you have any cash I could borrow? I’ll need some clothes, and a few other sundry items.”

  “Sure. I’ll take you out later and buy you a whole wardrobe,” Lancelot replied. “We’ll need to get Vivian and Morgan some stuff, too. I can’t wait to tell Arthur we have our own vamp. The little smartass will freak.”

  “Little?” Serge paused on the cellar steps.

  “Yeah. He’s only eight.”

  “Wonderful,” Serge sighed, continuing his downward journey.

  * * *

  “Wow, she’s bowlegged, Shrek,” Arthur called out from the limousine as Lancelot and Vivian walked out to the car. “You shoulda’ played the headache card, Vicky.”

  Lancelot stopped in his tracks, with Vivian, who was now inured to Arthur’s verbal insults, shaking her head next to him. Lancelot pointed at him.

  “Do you want to play baseball, boy, or go home right now with Merlin?”

  “Sorry, Shrek…I’m excited.” Arthur ducked back in the window.

 
; Taking a deep breath, Lancelot escorted Vivian to the limo. After they were inside, Merlin pointed at Lancelot’s front entrance.

  “I called a construction firm with whom I’ve done business. They’re sending a crew out today,” Merlin remarked as they drove away. “Any other news?”

  Lancelot looked at the partition between the driver and the passenger seats. “Can he hear us?”

  “No,” Merlin answered.

  “He has a spell on our compartment,” Vivian added. “I can feel it.”

  “What made you put a spell on your place?” Lancelot asked.

  “A hunch,” Merlin admitted. “Did you take care of the one you knew from before?”