Reunion

by Sean Stone

  Henry considered the question. He had no intention of harming any vampires and unless they got involved in his affairs they shouldn’t come to any harm. “No,” he replied evenly.

  “Well then. Give me the location of the Redmanes and Jacob here will retrieve the trunk personally,” Richie promised. Jacob blinked at the mention of his name and his brow furrowed just a fraction.

  “I’ll need something belonging to one of the Redmanes,” Henry replied.

  An hour later Richie had the location thanks to a simple spell and Henry was once again waiting outside Montford Manor. This time he was successful. Jacob almost fell from the house and dumped the trunk at Henry’s feet. He bent over, panting heavily. His hair was a mess and all the veins beneath his skin were protruding.

  “Did you encounter some trouble?” Henry asked conversationally.

  Jacob looked up and his eyes were alive with fiery anger. “You know I did!” he spat. “Those spirits almost ripped me apart.”

  Henry nodded. “They are troublesome,” he said.

  Jacob continued to glare at him. “I know who you really are, Henry Montford,” Jacob said slowly.

  Henry readied himself to attack. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

  “Don’t be an idiot. I don’t care who you are. I’m just giving you a warning. Do whatever you want with that coven but do not cross the clan.”

  “Which one?” Henry asked cheekily. “Richie’s or Victor’s?”

  “By the end of tonight there will only be one clan,” Jacob said and then sped off into the night.

  Henry looked back at his old house and smiled smugly. He really hoped the spirits could see him from within. He hoped that could see that he had beaten them again. He gave them a vigorous wave and then grabbed the end of the trunk and dragged it away down the street.

  Once home Henry smashed through the magic sealing the trunk. It took a great deal of effort and he was magically drained afterwards. Those sorcerers had done a good job. He opened the lid and looked down at his remains. It was just a pile of rotten bones and some filthy rags. It was upsetting to see that that was all that was left of him. He’d been forced into the trunk rather unceremoniously as well and as a result his bones were positioned at odd angles.

  He had converted the spare bedroom into a laboratory of sorts. Rather than a bed it now held two long wooden tables - old decorating tables he’d found in the shed. He removed his bones from the trunk and laid them out in their correct places on one of the tables. He’d fixed straps to the other table because that was where his descendant would be whilst he drained his life to restore his own body. Once Adam had been taken from the hospital he would be put in the chair in the corner until his time came to die. Tonight was the night that he gathered all the things he needed. He was so close now he was almost shaking with excitement. Best not to get too hopeful, though, something could still go wrong.

  He grabbed his coat and called a taxi to take him to the hospital. He knew that Toni would not disturb him this time because Eleanor had called a coven meeting. Apparently the pack had killed one of the sorcerers and something needed to be done. Henry didn’t care. It wasn’t his problem. His — or rather Elizabeth’s — absence would be noticed but they’d just think she was shying out. By the time they suspected something was wrong it would be too late.

  When he got to the hospital he didn’t bother bribing the receptionist. He put her to sleep and then got to work sabotaging the security tapes. He couldn’t risk getting caught on camera. It had to look like Adam had left of his own accord. He hid the receptionist in a nearby cupboard and locked it with a little magic. Then he headed to Adam’s room.

  Henry was happy to see that he was still in his coma. Not that he’d expected him to wake up. He was lying peacefully on the bed, eyes closed. Tubes and wires ran from his body and the machinery to his left beeped away. Henry shut and locked the door and then closed all the blinds. He rooted around in the drawers until he found Adam’s clothes. The same outfight Henry had chosen on the day he’d been forced from Adam’s body. All darks. Henry preferred the darker colours.

  “Hello again, Adam,” he said as he went over to the bed. “It’s me, Henry. I’m taking you back to my house now. Well, Elizabeth’s house. I’m borrowing it.” The machine beeped more frequently at the sound of his voice. Henry smiled and got to work. He pulled back the sheets, removed Adam’s hospital gown and began dressing him in his own clothes. That way it would be more believable that he had woken up rather than been kidnapped. “You see, I need a new body again. This one can’t hold me.” Henry held up Elizabeth’s hand to show Adam that the little finger had now been completely taken by gangrene. Not that Adam could see with his eyes closed. “Her body just doesn’t fit me like yours did. Don’t worry. I’m not going to take your body again. I’m building a new one. Well, an old one really. And to do that I need all that power that’s trapped inside you. My power really, I took it. You’re just holding it for me.”

  Henry finished dressing Adam, popped him in a wheelchair and wheeled him right out of the hospital. Kidnapping him was a lot easier than he’d expected. Cedarstone Hospital really needed to improve its security.

  Once home he sat Adam in the chair in the corner and left him to sleep. Or whatever he was doing in his coma. Henry wasn’t sure what the hospital machines had been doing but Adam didn’t actually need any of them. The magic inside him would keep him alive well into old age.

  Henry left Adam with his bones and went out in search of his descendant: Frederik Montford. Kidnapping Frederik posed no trouble either. He took him right out of his bedroom. Using a bit of magic he didn’t even wake him up. Once home again, Henry carried Frederik to the bedroom and laid him out on the spare table. He strapped him down and gagged him. Couldn’t have him making any noise when he did eventually wake up. Frederik had a very close resemblance to Henry. Longer hair and a slightly less angular face but otherwise almost the same. It was tempting just to take his body. But he might not be able to hold on to it any more than he could Elizabeth’s. No, he needed his own body.

  Henry could not begin the ritual yet, his magic had fully regenerated since breaking open the trunk. He was also very tired. He needed to be well rested for the spell. Even once he had the power currently held by Adam he would need a great deal of concentration. One misstep and the entire ritual would be ruined and he’d never be able to try again. He only had one set of remains.

  Henry switched off the light and closed the door on his way out of the room. He’d taken one step down the hallway when he realised that something was wrong. He’d noticed something back in the room but only now did it register in his tired mind. He threw the door open again and switched the light back on. His heart almost exploded when his suspicion was confirmed. The chair in the corner of the room was empty. Adam was gone.

  11

  Richie had Victor and Isabella’s location. He’d briefed the clan and they were getting ready to attack. Victor had chosen a small house by the river. There was nothing connecting him to the house so Richie would never have found him without magical assistance. Richie’s offer of a pardon for any of the defectors who returned had been ignored by all but three. For that reason he’d given the instruction to kill anyone found guarding the Redmanes. The Redmanes were to be captured. Nobody would kill them apart from Richie. Hopefully he could find a way to sort things with Victor as he didn’t want to have to kill his friend. Victor had done nothing wrong. He was trying to protect his daughter. Richie would do the exact same thing in his position. Unfortunately, the situation was different.

  Richie was just about to leave his chambers and join the others when Charles came scurrying in. Richie had never much liked Charles and only granted him a seat on the council in exchange for his services as a spy. Thinking about it, Richie could not name a single person he knew who did like Charles.

  “Not joining us, Charles?” Richie said mockingly. Charles was a coward plain and simple. His only skill
was sneaking around.

  “There’s an intruder. They set the alarm off. In the crypt,” Charles said ignoring the question.

  So Victor had come back already. But why would he be in the crypt? Was he going to take Lydia’s body as some kind of bargaining chip? That was too crude for Victor. If he had come back it would be to talk, not to steal remains. Isabella on the other hand…

  “Have you checked it out?” Richie asked. He knew what the answer would be.

  “No.”

  “Imbecile,” Richie muttered and then sped down there. If Isabella was foolish enough to return then she would die right now. No hunt required. Of course, the rest of the clan who had sided with her would still be killed but it didn’t have to happen over night. Victor could still be forgiving. After Richie killed Isabella there would be no hope for reconciliation, though.

  The door to the crypt was open when Richie arrived and he could hear the low, slow heartbeat of someone inside. Only one person. Richie opened the door fully and stepped in but he did not see Isabella. Standing over Lydia’s body was her brother Michael Aramaya. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed. He had left town but Lydia’s death must have brought him back. She had told Richie that her family shared a connection and they could feel one another no matter where they were in the world. Michael must have felt his sister’s death. His eyes opened when he heard Richie enter.

  “What happened?” he asked in a quiet but clear voice. He gave no indication as to what he was feeling, be it anger or pain.

  “She was murdered,” Richie replied. He closed the door to the crypt giving them some privacy. Not that anybody was outside.

  “By?”

  “Isabella,” he said it in a barely audible voice but Michael had no trouble hearing him.

  Michael looked up. “Your friend? Why would she do this?”

  “She was jealous. She wanted me for herself,” Richie told him. He felt oddly guilty as if Isabella’s actions were somehow his fault.

  Michael looked back down at his sister. “I warned her not to stay here. I told her that being with you would do her no good. But she has always had a mind of her own and one that would not be swayed.” He ran a hand through his sister’s hair. “How did so young a vampire manage to best my sister in combat?”

  “There was no combat. She sneaked up on her.” It felt like he was telling tales on Isabella and it made him feel awkward. It shouldn’t, though, he owed Isabella no loyalty.

  “Isabella is dead now, I presume?”

  “Not yet.”

  Michael’s head snapped up and his dark red eyes bore into Richie’s. “Why?” The word came out like a hiss.

  “She escaped with half my people. I have a location and I’m going to get her now.”

  “Not alone.”

  “No. My people will be joining me.”

  “That isn’t what I meant.” Michael said. “I will be accompanying you. With my own people.”

  “The Cult?” Richie asked.

  “You did not think I had come back here alone?” Michael said. With Osiris, Cain and Ramsay now gone, Michael was the leader of the Cult of Osiris and they followed him wherever he went. Richie was not pleased with the idea of Michael and his minions joining him tonight. They would most likely take over and rob Richie of the justice he sought. But he was not likely to be given the choice. He’d rather not have the Cult in Cedarstone at all, but that was another matter he had no sway over.

  “I would prefer it if you left this matter in my hands,” he said as respectfully as he could. If it were anybody else Richie would have told them to back off but Michael could tear off Richie’s head off before he could even blink, so more respect was needed.

  “That is irrelevant to me. We will join you,” he said firmly.

  “Can I have your word that you will not kill the Redmanes?” Richie asked.

  “I will not allow Isabella to leave this world before answering my questions. I can make no promises about anybody else.”

  That was about as good as it was going to get. Richie would just have to make sure he got to Victor first. “Alright then. Ready when you are.”

  Victor and the others were preparing to leave. He had finally convinced Isabella that leaving town was the only option. For the last week, Isabella had insisted that she could convince Richie to forgive her. Victor didn’t know what had happened to change her mind but she no longer thought she could. Just twenty minutes ago she’d agreed to leave town. Victor couldn’t move fast enough. It was a shame to say farewell to Cedarstone but as he’d told Isabella, they no longer had a life here. It was time to start up somewhere else. The farther from Cedarstone they could get the better which probably meant leaving the country. Victor suspected that Richie would travel far for his revenge.

  “Everyone’s ready when you are,” Mason said to Victor and Isabella. When they were settled in a new place they’d begin their own clan and Mason would be an elder. If Victor even bothered with such superfluous titles. He did not have the same eccentricity as Richie. With a new clan, he could run it however he wanted. He would be the high elder, or whichever title he chose for himself. Leader would be fine. In the old days clan leaders were known as masters but Victor would never insist on such a ridiculous title.

  “Let’s—” Victor began but a sound outside caught his attention. Feet on concrete. Someone was approaching the house. Several someones.

  “Is everything okay?” Mason asked.

  “No,” Isabella replied. She heard it too.

  “They’ve found us,” Victor whispered. He had no idea how. He had absolutely no connection with the house, or even the area. He’s been careful to choose a place Richie would never think to look. “Mason, go with Isabella. Now. Get a head start.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Father,” Isabella argued.

  “I’m not planning on sacrificing myself, Izzy. I just want you to get a head start in case I get caught. Richie won’t kill me. Now go.”

  Mason and Isabella sped from the room heading for the back door. With any luck they could get away before any of Richie’s guys got to the back. No doubt Richie would be surrounding the house. Victor knew his tactics; they’d taken out many rivals together. He’d surround the house and then send several waves of attacks until the job was done. Victor approached the window and peered out. Several vampires were making their way through the garden, they were in no hurry. As Victor had expected they were getting in position. Maybe Victor could talk to Richie. Or maybe he was being as delusional as Isabella to even think that.

  “What’s the plan?” Someone asked over Victor’s shoulder. The vampires who had followed him were all gathered around him now.

  “We have to fight and run. We won’t win in a fight. Richie alone could take out most of us. Fighting will just slow them down which is what Isabella needs. If anyone wishes to try and run now you’re welcome to. I would imagine that the house is already surrounded however.” Nobody moved. Victor was about to speak again when the window shattered inwards and the first attacker arrived. Victor ripped his heart out without thinking and the vampire fell down dead. Then the rest came. Vampires leaped through the window and burst through the door. The two rival sides of the clan merged into one and Victor got lost amongst the fighting. Vampires were falling down around him like flies but he couldn’t see Richie anywhere. He was definitely here, though. There was no way he would sit out of this.

  Victor began making his way to the back of the house to follow Isabella, killing as he went. He was the oldest member of the clan, barring Richie, and few had the strength to overpower him. Then someone did. A man appeared at Victor’s side and hit him square in the chest. Victor flew through the dry wall and crashed to the floor. He was up as quickly as he landed but his attacker was already on him. The vampire grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet. Victor looked him right in the face and honestly had no idea who he was. He knew every member of the clan but he was sure that he’d never seen this one before. Vi
ctor resorted to one of Richie’s moves and head-butted the guy in the face. It had no effect. The vampire returned the gesture and sent Victor back to the floor. The room was spinning around him but as he stumbled about his hand landed on something hard and wooden. He swung upward and smashed his attacker in the face with whatever it was. Blood splattered across the walls and the vampire fell. Victor didn’t waste any time. He jumped up and thrust the weapon through the vampire’s chest, pinning him to the ground and killing him. Victor took a step back as the vampire turned grey. He was still disorientated but his balance was returning. He ripped the broken piece of wood out of the dead vampire and as he did he saw a sigil that made his already dead blood run colder. On the vampire’s shirt was a golden crook and flail. The symbol for the Cult of Osiris. They were back. Come to avenge Lydia. Fighting really was futile. Victor didn’t think twice. He ran.

  He shot straight out of the back door, weapon still in hand, and charged through the garden. He ripped the gate right off its hinges but as he passed into the alley behind the house he stopped. It was totally black. No streetlights, no moonlight, nothing. He could not see a thing. He listened intently but could hear nothing, not even muffled fighting from the house behind him. Something odd was happening to his senses. He reached out with his free hand and found the fence. Somehow he had suddenly turned blind and deaf. It was Michael. The Aramaya family had abilities. They could get inside a vampire’s head and make him think whatever they wanted him to think. Ramsay and done it to Victor before. He’d made it seem like he had magical powers but Lydia had explained that they did not. It was mind trickery, nothing more.

  “Michael?” Victor called out. He raised his weapon.

  “Yes?” came the reply. Then Michael was on him. He had him by the shoulders, pinning up against the wall of the alley and forcing the weapon from his hands. In an instant his hearing and sight were back. They were alone in the alley. Michael’s face was inches from his own, his red eyes furiously penetrating him. Victor tried to stop his heart from going into overdrive but it was futile. “I will give you one opportunity to leave here alive. Where is Isabella?”