by Phil Maxey
She nodded. Just thirty minutes later we were heading upstate, sitting in luxury leather seats and in front of a purring engine, which I insisted on driving.
“Did it really have to be mustard yellow?” I said.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I like yellow!”
“I thought you liked black and purple?”
“Those, young Sebastian, are my work clothes.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah I keep forgetting you’re like forty years older than me or— Oww.” I rubbed the spot on my shoulder where she just punched. “Do you want us both to die before we even get to probably both die!” The last part was meant to be a joke, but it was a little bit too honest and silence returned to the car.
Trunks and branches lost to an intense darkness flashed by. I was returning home for the second time. We had no idea what to expect, but we had a plan, one that we spent a good hour going over before we left earlier in the day. A quote leaped into my mind ‘No plan survives contact with the enemy.’ As long as ‘we’ survived, that’s what mattered.
I rolled to a stop near the grand entrance to my family’s home. Two guards, which I swore I had seen before, stood in front of the gates. One of them approached and I slid the window down.
“I’m—”
“We know who you are, sir.”
“What—”
The man backed away and held his ear as if taking instructions. The gate started opening. Another car pulled up behind us. “Please drive all the way up to the main house. Valets will take care of your vehicle once there.”
“Okay…”
We drove past the columns with the statues. I noticed they were both now complete, the broken one having been repaired. I glanced across to my passenger. “We stick to the plan and everything will be fine.”
She remained silent.
“Just promise me you won’t go psycho vamp, unless there’s no other choice.”
She frowned. “I’m here to get Fortacan out. That’s all I’m concerned about.”
I steered the car left and right, past the ancient wall of trees and the gothic Hell-Lock manor reared up in front of us, light and sound emanating from the ground floor. I parked to the side of the fountain which water was gushing from, and we both got out. I held out my arm which Alyssa held on to. She wore a long silver dress, with a long slit on one side, and a large piece missing from her chest region. Her long rich dark hair was slung to one side, and her scent was the same as the first time I saw her, apple blossom.
Another tall guard, walked forward. I tensed slightly.
“Key’s sir?”
“Ah, yes.” I passed them to him.
As other cars parked behind ours, we walked forward up the wide steps and through the already open door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
We stood in the doorway looking at a sea of people in the hallway. A cacophony of voices, scents and fumes wafted across me, some of which were definitely of the non-human variety, but in the melee it was hard to tell who was paranormal and who wasn’t.
One by one the party-goers turned to face me, and the din hushed until there was only silence.
“Well, this is awkward,” said Alyssa quietly.
A man, almost as big as the door behind me, held out a bag. “Cell phone,” he grumbled.
There goes plan A.
I wanted to frown, but instead I smiled, and with Alyssa we put our phones into his bag.
“Son!”
Michael Hell-Locks voice boomed out, and I resisted shuddering like a seven-year-old version of myself. He was standing on the first landing of the staircase, surrounded by a gaggle of sycophants. I couldn’t believe I didn’t realize it before, but his resemblance to his father was striking, he even had the beginnings of a beard, something he struggled to grow when I knew him…
Was my grandfather a demon like me?
It was an idea I hadn’t even contemplated before, but standing there, with two-hundred people waiting for me to respond to Michael Hell-Locks greeting it seemed obvious. A stream of memories came to me from my early childhood, as my demon father waved for me to join him. My grandfather was fit and strong way into his seventies. I always put it down to good genes. In a way it was. Demon genes.
I put on my best frozen smile and walked forward, and the horde returned to their cocktails and inane chatter.
A waiter with a platter of tall glasses full of golden sparkling liquid, interrupted our journey to the bottom of the stairs. Alyssa took one before I did, and I realized I was standing directly beneath the chandelier. I was glad to move on.
Michael Hell-Lock arrived at the bottom of the wide stairs as we did, and he took a step forward and threw his arms around me before I had a chance to react. Thankfully the embrace didn’t last long. He pulled me to the side, and I turned to face the same direction he was, at a brace of photographers who were snapping photos for tomorrows gossip and society columns.
Have your moment in the sun, father.
I turned away before the news hounds had finished. Alyssa wasn’t where I left her.
Shit.
I went to move off, when his hand landed on my shoulder.
“You don’t know how happy it has made me that you have returned, son.”
There’s that word again. Son.
“How did you reclaim your identity?”
I subtly scanned the crowd to find the vamp in the killer dress, but couldn’t see her.
Not the plan Alyssa.
“If you really are who you say you are, then we need to talk. I have questions.”
“Yes, of course. You are due an explanation for my absence for all these years, and… an apology.” He almost sounded sincere, and that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I smiled and continued scouring the bodies, my frustration building at not seeing where she had gotten to.
Again he put his hand on my shoulder, which I was growing wary of. “There is so much we are going to accomplish! But first I want to formally introduce you to someone.”
We moved through the crowd, all parting even before we were near them. The back of a blonde wearing a stunning backless dress was standing alone near a table of drinks. She turned around, her face taking on a smile almost as fake as my own.
“Olivia! Come and meet my son!”
I think we both sighed at the same time, but hid it equally well.
She held a surprisingly delicate hand out. “Olivia Octavian, nice to meet you.”
I briefly shook it. A large gold bracelet was covering her tattoo, or was it a brand?
“My pleasure.”
“You have a lot to learn from her Sebastian. Keep her close!” He looked to the entrance. “I have to get ready for the guest of honor!” He swiftly walked away.
Myself and the other Exiled knight descendent turned to watch the bustling crowd. “Why did you come… You should have ran when you had the chance…” She kept her voice low, while hiding her mouth behind her glass.
“Unfinished business.”
Her eyes flicked in my direction. “You can’t seriously be thinking of starting trouble? Do you know who is here already? Who will soon be here?”
“Really don’t care.” I sensed her heart rate increase.
“Leave, now before it’s too—”
The crowd hushed, quicker even than when Alyssa and I arrived. Everyone was looking at the entrance, where Michael was standing. I didn’t care who was about to show up, I just wanted to know where Alyssa was. I tried to reach out with my senses, a scent, a signature heartbeat, anything to tell me where she was, but there were too many people and other things, all of which were false positives. A grinned stretched across Michael’s face. Whoever was approaching the entrance made him happier than even his own son arriving.
A tall man with an angelic face, maybe late twenties in a pristine white suit appeared in the doorway.
Michael seemed overwhelmed. I thought he was going to drop to his knees. Then he did, as well as everyone else.
Olivia tugged at my sleeve, which I brushed off. She then gripped a bit too tight and the material start to give way, so with the others I kneeled. “Who the hell is that?” Maybe Octavian had invited some overseas royalty, or a religious figure I was never aware of.
“My father…”
“What?”
“Shhh.”
The young man opened his arms, and brought them together as if he was about to pray. “Hallows eve is almost here, when another of our family we be with us!”
Are they chanting?
Murmurs in unison were rippling around the crowd. This party had turned real weird real quick. Or maybe this was the norm for demon parties.
Where’s she got to!
While the worshipers were doing their worshipping thing, I started to shuffle backwards. Just a few feet would be enough for me to be around the base of the stairs, and out of sight of most. The young guy was talking to Michael. Just a few more inches…
“Sebastian! Come meet Mr. Octavian!”
Shit.
A path opened up across the hallway, as everyone looked at me as if I was about to meet the new messiah, or maybe an A-lister. For a moment I wondered if they expected me to shimmy all the way to the front on my knees, then quickly dropped that idea and stood, proudly walking forward.
I thought perhaps the light and the almost twenty feet had made the senior Octavian look younger than he was, but standing close just confirmed what he appeared to be. Which was an impossibility if he truly was Olivia’s father.
“Tray, this is my son, Sebastian.”
Octavian grinned, displaying a perfect set of gleaming white teeth. He was a demon, of that I was sure, but I had never encountered one that radiated such obvious power. It rose from him effortlessly and I couldn’t quite pin down its source. Mystical or magical, or maybe both, contained within one so young. It was a puzzle, which I had no time or patience to solve. I was on borrowed time. Sooner or later, probably sooner, alarms would be tripped, and all eyes would be on me for bringing the vamp who was attempting to escape with the elderly professor. There was also the small matter of finding the seal.
“I saw you were standing close to Olivia, how are the two of you getting along?”
“Fine.”
He nodded while holding the same smile. “Good. Perhaps later, together with your father we can discuss your role in proceedings on the thirty-first?”
My role?
I noticed my father looked uneasy, but it didn’t matter. I passed my glass to the great and almighty Tray Octavian, who looked shocked to receive it. “Be right back. Need to take a leak.” My father went to speak, but it was my turn to put my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I still remember where the restroom is.”
I turned and hastily made my way through the kneelers and up the grand stairs. As I arrived on the first floor, memories of ghouls and other undead things came back. All of the doors in the long corridor were closed. Downstairs a rumble of conversation had returned. I wondered if they were standing again.
Where are you…
I tried the closest door, which was a bedroom with white sheets covering the furniture, and dust and cobwebs covering them. As quietly as I could, I tried all of the doors, each one almost a replica of the first. I had to go up. I returned to the stairs. Oddly there was now no sound from below. I leaned over the bannister but I couldn’t glimpse the hallway from there. They probably had moved into the large living room, which was as big as the entrance hall. I ran up the stairs, listening for any sound, and arrived on the second floor of the six-story building then walked to another corridor, with a junction, which I ran to. Picking randomly I moved right, placing my ear to each of the numerous doors, when a creak rang from the last, which was swinging open.
I shivered, which was odd because there was no draft. I looked behind me to make sure I was still alone, and walked to the door. The space within was closet sized but the back of it was a staircase.
“Alyssa!” I shouted into the gloom.
Shaking my head I walked inside then closed the door and slowly descended. There was hardly any light but that was fine and I increased my speed down the stone steps. I quickly reached the bottom and stood in surprise at the mausoleum I had stumbled into. I walked over well-worn slabs, reading the dates on the stone sarcophagi.
‘John Hell-Lock 1845 - 1917… Walter Hell-Lock 1789-1851… Christina Hell-Lock 1712 - 1792’
There were others with even older inscriptions, some of which were scratched and weathered. I never knew there was a family vault beneath the house. I had reached a wooden door. I pressed my ear to it, but it was too solid to allow any waves to penetrate, so I turned the iron handle and pulled it open to chanting.
A rhythmic vocal drumming came from beyond the large arched door at the end of the corridor, which was bordered by statues and reliefs carved into stone blocks. The very foundations the house above me was built on. My unease was now reaching a ten, and the hair on my arms and pretty much everywhere else was alert to the sound which was vibrating the walls around me. A new kind of party was happening behind the door, which I was now an inch away from. I gripped the handle and a bolt of recognition ripped through my mind.
Been here before…
But I couldn’t remember that. I just knew I had. I guess this is what you call Deja vu. I readied myself. Whoever was on the other side probably was going to object to my presence. It was finally time to punch some demons.
I turned the handle and pushed the door open. I and the chanting stopped. The cavernous space I was looking at was difficult to comprehend. Statues standing at least twenty feet high soared to a shadow ridden ceiling, lost within a form of cave, but I was more concerned with the cloaked and masked individuals that were looking directly at me.
“Sebastian!” The words came from the tallest of those that had hidden their identities with a mask depicting a medieval demon’s face. I was about to react, when Alyssa cried out. She was somewhere towards the back of the area.
That was all the signal I needed and I surged forward, crashing through the costumed mob some of which tried to slow me down, but I was too fast and I deftly avoided their efforts, until I spilled out to the other side, and skidded to a stop. Alyssa was chained to a wall, but instead of being glad of my arrival, she merely shook her head. What had I done wrong? Her make-up had already drained across her cheeks.
I went to dislodge her manacles from the stone wall behind her, when laughing came from the crowd.
“Seb… stop. You have to stop…” said Alyssa.
I looked into her bloodshot eyes. “Uh?”
“No, please do continue ‘Seb.’” I recognized the voice of the golden one, Tray Octavian. The mass of demons and who knows what else parted, and he walked forward, his mask in hand. Behind him came another whose face remained hidden, but he kept looking at the taller person in front of him.
I stood tall, in front of Alyssa, and facing Octavian. “Let me tell you what’s going to happen. I’m going to take my girlfriend here—” I hoped that wasn’t too much of a presumption. “— you’re going to give me the professor and then we’re going to leave. And if anyone puts even the slightest mark on my car we’re going to have a problem.”
Everyone burst out laughing. Not the reaction I was going for.
Octavian walked forward until he was no more than a few long strides away. Easily close enough for me to lunge, break his neck, and be back to helping Alyssa escape before anyone took their next breath.
“Your father thinks you will play an important role for us, that is why you are not already dead.” I realized the figure behind him was Micheal.
“You keep talking about my role? I already have my identity back. The whole world now knows I’m back. Be strange if something was to happen to me for the second time. And with the voting rights—” Jacob had explained over a long and boring hour how much power I had within the corporation. “— I have, all I need to do is convince maybe one or two others and this
whole takeover thing, goes bye-bye.”
“Stupid boy. We do not care about your company, only this house, and more importantly what is behind you…”
I tried to remember what was behind me, but I only had eyes for rescuing Alyssa. I raised one finger, in a gesture that everyone should wait, and I looked over my shoulder. “A bigger, grander door to the one I came in through. Big deal. Anyway—” In a blur of movement I snapped the two chains holding Alyssa to the wall, but instead of taking up a fighting stance, she merely slumped back. “Alyssa, come on!” I whispered out of the side of my mouth.
“She know’s you cannot escape Sebastian.”
“Look, you’re really beginning to piss me off, you know—”
Why’s his eyes glowing?
In-fact it wasn’t just his eyes, but all of his skin, glowed, or shined as if it was made of pearl. The others in the room stepped back, further and further, and from the sound of their heartbeats it wasn’t out of awe, but of fear.
Is he actually getting taller?
The burning torches all blew out in unison, so only the light from him illuminated the whole room.
Alyssa said something from behind me, but I was too lost to what I was about to do. My muscles tensed, I clenched my fist and I flew forward in one continuous motion. I guessed whatever he was, he would be strong and fast, so as I neared him, I ducked expecting him to swing at me, except he didn’t. As my blow connected with his stomach, which was roughly where my chest was, he just stood, looking down at me with a smile.
I slammed my fist into him again, and again, a torrent of blows, each one appearing to be no more affective than if he was being irritated by a fly. I stopped out of breath.
“Stop!” Alyssa screamed. “He’s the first horsemen!”
I looked up into a face which had transformed into a hideous monster. I thought he had placed the mask back on, but when his face contorted I knew that was his true appearance.
