SCROLLS OF THE DEAD-3 Complete Vampire Novels-A Trilogy

by Billie Sue Mosiman

  He kept his mental energy high to watch for enemies who might enter the village searching him out. They would know him, know his true spirit, despite the disguise of a new body. Vampire knew another vampire, that was certain.

  The day waned quickly, though not quickly enough to suit Upton. However, he was practiced in patience. He sat immobile, watchful, head down, making himself as invisible as possible.

  A little boy approached, a ragamuffin living on his own, or away from his parents for the day. Upton turned his head on his neck stiffly and glared at the youth. He hissed at him and rolled back his lips to show how he could cause long new fangs to slide down from his upper gums.

  The boy froze and caught his breath.

  Breathe not a word, little man. Upton whispered to the boy's mind. Take yourself away from me and hide if you have any wish to live beyond the setting of the sun.

  The child blanched, going pale through he was normally the color of toasted coconut. He turned on his heel and beat a path away and into the throng of villagers until Upton lost sight of him. Upton smiled, thinking what a tasty morsel the boy might have made.

  What a really tasty morsel, fine and tender enough to make a hungry man smack his lips in anticipation.

  ~*~

  When daylight left the sky and night descended, the village emptied of commerce and workers and shoppers. Only a few men strolled the dry dirt streets, going and coming from the two bars. One of the bars boasted the only neon in the village, a gaudy pink sign that Upton could not read, though he did recognize the liquor bottle outlined in purple neon that hissed like a perpetually alarmed snake.

  Unable to wait any longer, he moved toward the darker bar, the one without any electric sign to splash light around the entrance. There Upton lounged against the wall outside the door, waiting. He did not have long to wait. A smaller, older man, stumbling and mumbling from drink, came from the bar and turned down the lane. Upton stalked him until they were near a small opening between one-story buildings. He was upon him in an instant, taking him from behind, twisting his head to the side so he could get at his throat.

  He had sunk his fangs in and was taking the old man's blood in great draughts until his mind warned him of another vampire—a Predator—nearby. He brought his mouth from the drunkard's neck, holding the comatose body around the waist so he wouldn't fall. He listened with his preternatural hearing and heard the footsteps passing the bar and coming toward where Upton stood holding onto his burden.

  He dropped his victim immediately and sped away down the opening between buildings. When he reached the rear, he turned right and rushed on, heading for the edge of the village and the jungle beyond. He would change to jaguar again and disappear into the leafy camouflage.

  He didn't know who the Predator might be, afraid to probe him to find out, but he suspected it was one of the monks, sent to search the village.

  Having reached the road leading out of the village and the jungle that pushed against it on both sides, he changed into the big cat and padded on all fours into the deep emerald greenery. He hurried, beginning to leap and bound, jumping over low bushes and tall grasses and fallen limbs on the jungle floor.

  He sensed the Predator now on the road, but he hadn't yet left it to come into the jungle.

  I've lost him, Upton thought exultantly, moving even faster, his paws hardly touching ground. In a moment he would give up all his personal hold on the animal he had become and let the animal body and mind take over as it raced away from danger. No Predator would track him as a jaguar, if he cleared his mind.

  Even as he began to let go of his own thoughts, and as he outdistanced the vampire at his back, his hunger returned, never having been satisfied. He could still taste the liquor-polluted blood of the old man he'd had to let go. Don't think of that, he scolded himself. They can track you if you think of blood and feeding.

  Damn him, Upton thought, a snarl escaping his cat lips. Damn the monk who chases me, and may he fry in hell along with Joseph.

  ~*~

  Mentor paused on the road in the darkness, bending his head slightly in thought. He tried to pick up Charles Upton's intelligence again. Without warning, he'd lost it all of a sudden, like a lightbulb going dark.

  Mentor kept completely still, sure he could find the other vampire again if he tried hard enough. Surely Upton had not learned how to evade him. He'd learned many things—how to change into a cat, how to leave his body and become Joseph and then leave Joseph's dying body and finding another body to inhabit. But how had he discovered the trick of cloaking his mind so no one could detect him?

  Mentor could hardly believe it. He mentally searched the area again, feeling his way slowly and meticulously around the jungle on both sides of the road. Where Mentor stood had been the fast place Upton, in the form of a jaguar, had passed. He'd fled in some direction off the road, but which direction?

  This would not do. Mentor sent out a call to the monks wherever they were in their searches. Come to me, he commanded. He's where I am, but I've lost him. Come and help me.

  It wouldn't take the monks long to reach him outside the village, but every minute gave Upton a chance to move even farther away. Mentor tried to search out every large cat in the area, but knew that would take a while. He had to test each one, entering into each mind to find the alien presence of a vampire.

  Still, he was not too upset at Upton's disappearance. No matter where he went, he'd find him eventually. He'd track him until he found his lair, and there he'd bind him and haul him into a private place where he would set him on fire. This time they would not imprison him. They'd held off killing Upton over the years because of Mentor's reluctance, and his hope Upton might one day mature into a vampire with a conscience. Now he knew he had been wrong. He should have listened to Ross and the others. Upton grew in strength and cunning with each year that passed. He saw now it had only been a matter of time before Ross' protégé escaped.

  Several monks pressed around Mentor, touching him to find out what he knew. Wordlessly, they spread out into the jungle, going in opposite directions on each side of the road. They would cover as much area as possible, seeking contact with every animal in the vicinity in case Upton changed from jaguar to something else.

  Mentor chose to enter the jungle closest to where he stood, thinking he had at least a fifty-percent chance of finding Upton. He moved rapidly, focusing on every leaf and stem for evidence of recent passage. He picked up the scent of a large cat, possibly the jaguar, and followed it.

  He spent hours searching, losing, and retracing his steps, seeking to find the jaguar's path again. He received mental reports from the monks, who had no better luck than he did.

  Morning rose and many of the monks returned to the monastery to help the few guards they'd left behind. They must attend to the prisoners' feeding and take care that someone else didn't escape.

  Mentor doggedly trekked on, hope dwindling. He searched all through the day and into the next night without pause. At some point in the day he lost the jaguar scent altogether and thought Upton had changed again, either to man or another animal.

  He didn't want to admit it, but Upton had outsmarted them all. He feared he was gone, at least for now. He'd had too much of a head start and his incentive to be free was strong. While imprisoned, he'd been an annoyance, but set free, he was a formidable problem. He'd had nearly two decades to form a plan to take over the Predators. All their clans were loosely governed; their only true sin was to turn renegade. It was Upton's ambition to give all the Predators freedom to do what they wanted to in their dread hearts. Like him, they might start to believe they had a right to kill off the Cravens and a duty to release the Naturals from their reliance on blood banks.

  If that ever happened, Mentor shuddered to think of the upheaval it would create. For years the vampire nations had lived in a civilized way, keeping their secrets, doing as little harm to mankind as possible. Upton would change all that. He would lead vampires against man, proving to the
m the invincibility of a supernatural blood feeder.

  Mentor found himself entering another village, emerging from the jungle with a weary tread. He cast about, searching for Upton, but could not find him. He probably hadn't even been here, Mentor thought. He would have left a trace of his flight.

  Just as Mentor moved to leave for the jungle again where he could take flight and return home to the States, a child appeared from behind the wall of a small house near the jungle wall. He called Mentor's name.

  Mentor halted, turned, and waited until the child came near. He inspected the boy and saw nothing distinctive about him. He was barefoot and dressed in poorly fitting dirty clothes. His face was small, with a pointed chin and a firm set to his lips. He appeared to be about twelve.

  "It's me, Joseph," the child said in a low, sad tone of voice.

  "Oh, no. Joseph?"

  "I'm sorry, Mentor. I didn't know my old monk's body was on its last legs. I paid more attention to my prayers than to monitoring my health. I'd been in that old body so long . . . more than a hundred years. I just didn't notice. And now look at me. I've made one mistake too many." He spread his hands and looked down at his feet.

  "I'm sorry too, Joseph. Upton's disappeared. He hasn't been found, not yet." Mentor hesitated before saying, "The child's body you possess—he died?"

  Joseph nodded. "When I had to leave the monastery, I was disembodied for a while, panicking to find a new form. I was so afraid I wouldn't have time, I'd be lost and wandering forever, looking on while others lived out their lives. Only now do I know what ghosts suffer." He frowned and began to press his hands together as if from memory of prayer. "This child lay dying in that house you see behind me. I crept into the room and waited over in a corner, away from his parents. It didn't take long. The boy had been ill with malaria for months and the fever . . . took him. So far none of his relatives suspect I'm not him. They don't know he died."

  Mentor could imagine the scene, and it made him want to lie down in a shady spot, shut off his mind, and rest his head on his arm. He wanted to be far away from the newly made vampire boy who was trapped now in the tiny body, destined to keep it until in some distant future all the organs failed, once again setting Joseph free. To spend a normal mortal lifetime in the arrested physical body of a child was a torment.

  He was reminded of the child he had helped in Greece.

  Separated from life, wandering in death, always a boy. And Dell's brother, Eddie, who had fled to South America.

  "Don't feel bad for me," Joseph said, sensing his distress. "I'll soon ask my new parents to let me study with the monks. The pay they receive when I get to the monastery will compensate them enough I won't be missed at home. They have many children and not enough to feed them. I'll find . . . something . . . to do for the monks. I am, after all, still Joseph."

  Mentor put a hand on the child's shoulder before turning away. He heard Joseph say, "I'm really sorry about Upton. I know it's my fault. I've been the only one who ever made a mistake around him. And now I've made the worst one of all."

  Mentor shook his head slightly to let Joseph know he did not blame him. After all, he had kept the man prisoner for nineteen years. Glancing once more to Joseph, he plunged into the jungle, leaving the village and his old friend behind.

  He must go home. He was doing no good here. He'd be told when or if anyone found Upton. He'd turn up, Mentor was sure of it. Probably sooner rather than later.

  He sent word back to the monastery to his indispensable friend, Dolan. His frequent visits to Thailand were finally at an end.

  2

  Charles Upton moved through the night streets of Sydney, Australia, like a snake cautiously testing the air for scent of humans. It had taken him days to make his way out of Thailand. He could move swiftly along the ground, but he could not sail the skies as he knew other Predators were able to do. He had to rely on boats and the rails to get him away from the country. Once in Australia he migrated to the edge of the country and the bright lights of the metropolitan city. There he expected to find Predators who would listen to him, who would join his cause. He'd found only three in crowded Bangkok and was told that except for the monks, few vampire clans lived in Thailand.

  It took weeks to seek out Sydney's strongest vampires. At first he thought Australia might be another country the vampires regarded as hostile, but eventually he began to sense the lone Predator stalking the city streets, and it was the loners he wanted most of all.

  He stalked the first loner he found, following at his back in the shadows. Finally, sensing him, the Predator turned, scowling. "What do you want? Who are you to watch me this way?"

  Charles came from the shadows, showing himself. "I'm your friend," he said. "Perhaps we could talk?"

  They went to a wharf and perched on a piling side by side. Below them water slapped around the piling bottoms. Charles could smell the mingled scents of salt water, mussels, the slime of green growth on the slick pilings.

  "All right, Friend," the Predator said. "What do you want to talk about?"

  "Are you happy?" Charles asked. "Are you living the life of a god the way you rightfully should?"

  The Predator laughed. "Happy? Am I supposed to be happy? Are you happy?"

  "I will be," Charles said. "As soon as we rule the world. I can do that with your help and with the help of others like you. We're the same, you and I. We need more respect. We need power. Everything that belongs to us has been taken away. We need to take it back."

  The Predator stared at him, then a ghost of a smile came over his face.

  It took so little to charm the lost ones. He appealed to their buried feelings of discontent. He painted rosy futures where they would be rulers rather than skulking beasts.

  Each night he found more. He went to them individually, calling himself Charlie, never speaking of his imprisonment or his connection to Mentor and the distant continent of the United States. Some asked in reply, "How else would we live, if not hidden, shrouded by the night?"

  Charlie had a lot of suggestions for them. He spent long hours in deep philosophical discussions, carefully pointing out to his comrades how they hadn't tapped even a tenth of the possibilities an immortal existence offered. Why should they curb their natural Predator instincts just to keep order in the world? Whose order was it? The secret they shielded so determinedly was for the benefit of whom? Who cared, he asked, about mortals or how human civilizations prospered? Why should such majestic creatures hide from man's notice and conduct the boring and tedious business of blood banks and secret repositories when all they had to do was to let themselves prey, the way it was ordained by their nature? What leader in the dark past had ever decreed they must work in conjunction with mortals so that history never knew of the existence of the vampire?

  There were a few Predators who turned aside Charles' offer. These Charles dispatched without warning. He fell upon them, slitting their throats with a knife and then ripping their heads from their bodies. He wanted no one reporting back to a clan about his entreaty to join him.

  He knew some of his Predators were going to leak their thoughts enough that Mentor would pick up the change taking place in Australia. Charles didn't even care if Mentor knew it was him. He never told his followers where they were going. If Mentor came to Sydney to investigate, Charles would simply flee, taking anyone he could with him. Once away from Sydney, he'd have his Predators shield their minds from Mentor's probes. This was something the first recruit taught him. They had been together only days when the other said, "You're wide open, a vampire transmitter."

  "What do you mean?" Upton asked.

  "Your mind. A vampire can feel it coming from miles away. Don't you ever shut down?"

  It was explained to him what was meant. Charles discovered he could retreat with his thoughts deep into his mind and put up a block that kept others like himself from reading him. It made it wondrously easier to stalk enemies and it would help keep him safe from Mentor, too. It was the same trick ol
d Joseph had used when he hadn't wanted to be bothered by Upton's intrusions in the monastery.

  So much he hadn't known. So much. But he was free now, and the other Predators could teach him what he needed to know. Once he learned a trick, he was able to perfect it quickly.

  Charles worked each night rushing through the Sydney streets, building his army. He'd give Mentor no time to find him or stop him. With diligence and cunning, Charlie, the Thai man with the large feet and the artistically gesturing hands—the foreigner with the dark, brooding eyes and regal presence—convinced many of his kind to join him in some far-off place where a whole new world order could be planned. His charisma was palpable. His words struck a chord in both the Predators who walked the fine edge of civility and those who in their hearts had always longed to be outlaws. Their ingrained timidity fled and the frustration they'd harbored for years found an outlet in Charlie, their new leader. They awaited his command, grouping in clusters around the great city, supernatural ears tuned for the instruction that would lead them on an exodus.

  Once Charles made a mistake and approached a lone vampire on the streets who happened to be part of the hierarchy of the Predators in the city who supplied blood. When gently probed, the vampire seemed to be a loner, a renegade. Yet he had turned on Charles, speaking rapidly and with a hard tone. "I've heard someone was gathering the loners. What is it you're up to?"

  Charles carefully concealed his plans for the future, and also his plan to murder this vampire who dared question him. "I'm harmless," he said instead, assuming a submissive manner. "I'm doing nothing wrong."