by Jan McDonald
Lane stopped abruptly and Beckett’s face was paler than death itself.
“The one in the mask?” Lane asked. Her eyes were black holes in her intense features.
Darius nodded. “Yeah, he’s new around here, but I’ve seen him several times recently. I noticed him take an interest in this guy Nik. Left straight after he did. I got the impression he was following him.”
“Oh God,” whispered Kat. “Nik.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Santo had taken great delight in Nik’s awed expression at his home. Set back in dense pine forest at the foot of the Brecon Beacons and separated from the road by a quarter of a mile drive, the vast new house had surprised Nik. From within the luxury of an exquisite drawing room, Santo had laughed at his assumptions.
“What? You expected a crumbling old mansion? An ancient stately home, perhaps? Far too draughty and uncomfortable for my taste, Nik. You have been watching too many tasteless films. I see I will need to educate you. Come, I will show you to the guest suite. You need to rest and refresh yourself.”
“I ... er ... I didn’t know what to expect really.” He felt foolish and that angered him.
“There are many things that you need to understand, Nik. However, tonight is not the time to begin your education.”
Nik resented Santo’s attitude and arrogance; the way he assumed Nik’s ignorance and lack of intelligence. Circumstances had robbed him of many things but intellect had not been among them, and one thing that was apparent was that Santo needed him as some kind of passport to the presence of a vampire much higher on the food chain than he was. His father. The thought emboldened him. His father would welcome him and he would no longer need for anything. He would play along with Santo for the time being, using him for his vampire education and well-being, until he knew who and where his father was. Then he wouldn’t need him; he wouldn’t need anybody.
“Do you ever take off that mask?”
Santo laughed again, a musical sound on the edge of seduction. “Of course. Perhaps you believe me to be somehow disfigured? I assure you that is not so. I wear the mask for amusement only. I like to be amused Nik.”
“Show me, then. Show me your face.”
“You challenge me? How very charming. Very well.”
With a deft movement of his hand the mask fell away from his face. His features were refined; ice-blue eyes with finely defined eyebrows sat above an aquiline nose. His cruel mouth seemed harsher now that it was in context with the rest of his face. He had a haughty demeanour that irritated Nik, making him feel inferior and clumsy. Well, that would change.
“You see. I do not hide an ugly scar, or putrid skin. It is as I said; for amusement only.”
“And me? Do I amuse you? What will you do with me when you tire of me?”
Santo’s eyes narrowed momentarily. His voice was cold when he said, “I don’t believe that will happen, Nik. I told you, I intend to educate you and present you to your father as an accomplished vampire, a son of whom he can be proud, and a son worthy of him. And for that I expect to be rewarded. In the meantime, yes, you amuse me.” He paused, appraising Nik’s expression. “And I believe that I have awakened something in you that you do not understand.”
Nik’s eyes darkened. “I’m tired,” he said.
“But of course. Where are my manners? Come with me.”
Nik followed him. Whilst he was of value to Santo, he felt safe.
The house would not have been out of place in Beverly Hills, with it’s marble-floored hallway and sweeping staircase that led to another two floors. Santo strode ahead of him on the first floor, to a set of double doors of heavily carved oak. He flung them open with a dramatic gesture.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Nik stepped into the room. An enormous four poster bed with silk drapes took centre stage. The furniture was elegant and extravagant and – even to an untrained eye – must have cost a fortune. A door stood ajar, and beyond it he could see a bathroom and what was obviously a dressing room. He looked down at his ragged jeans.
“You will find all you need in the wardrobes, Nik. I think you’ll find everything will fit. Help yourself.”
Something that had been nagging at Nik gelled within his mind. He turned to Santo.
“How do you know of my father? I mean, how do you know that the man you speak of is my father?”
“Because, Nik, I have been looking for you for a very long time. He sent me to find you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. How does he know of me? That slut who is my mother can mean nothing to him.”
“Too many questions for tonight; get some rest and we will talk further when you wake up.” He read Nik’s thoughts and laughed aloud. “Yes, you will sleep through the day, and not in a grimy coffin. You will sleep during the day and wake and feed at night. Not because you’ll turn to ashes in the sunlight, but simply because you will be tired. You will be nocturnal because that is your nature and when you are most comfortable. That is when you will play and stalk your prey. We live by night because the darkness triggers our hunger. Some of us have learned to live just as well by day too.”
“You didn’t answer my question. How does he know of me?”
“Because he senses you.”
“He senses me? “
“I told you, Nik, you owe your great potential to being the son of one of the most powerful vampires of all time. You were conceived of the Born, albeit a Latent and an Undead, one of the most awesome combinations of vampire genetics. Enough for now, Nik. Good night.”
It was nothing short of a dismissal and Santo was gone before Nik could utter another word, but there was no sleep in him; he was wired, high on the events of the night and the flattery of his mentor. He had gorged himself on the blood of his prey and discovered new abilities that he had only previously wondered at. Now, instead of being homeless, living on the floor of a filthy warehouse, he found himself befriended by one of his own kind who was refined and sophisticated, obviously wealthy, and proficient in all the vampire arts. His mind explored the possibilities and above all else, he thought about his father.
He had always known he was different, special somehow. Now he knew why: he was the son of someone great. He wondered how much of his father he had inherited. A glance in the mirror reflected his mother’s dazzling amethyst eyes at him. He scowled. He wanted no part of her and there was nothing he could do about this, her gift to him. His mouth had hardened into a cruel line, a copy of which he had yet to see for himself.
In Greece.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Outside Danse Macabre, Beckett swore colourfully and kicked out at the door.
“Frustration has never been easy for you to handle, Handsome. There’s nothing we can do here now,” Lane soothed. She turned to Darius, “And as for you, I suggest you think about making yourself scarce. You’ve had your share of excitement for tonight and I should also think about walking away from all this. If you want to stay alive for some considerable time that is. You’ve seen what our kind is capable of, and believe me they won’t hesitate in using you as a light snack. Understand?”
“No way. I’m not leaving.”
Beckett moved towards him. “Perhaps I can persuade you?”
“What? You’re going to beat me up? Is that it? Go ahead. I’ll just be back another night. I told you, I’m not quitting.”
Lane put a restraining hand on Beckett’s arm. “Down boy. He’s not worth the effort and I think you’ve had enough agro for one night. If he wants to be Andrei’s breakfast, that’s up to him. Let him go.”
“Did you forget what he just did to you? Or is that okay all of a sudden? Because from where I was standing you were a delicate part of a gnat’s anatomy away from checking out.”
Lane sighed and looked suddenly weary. “All right Beckett. You win. Beat the crap out of him if that’s what is going to make you feel better. Then what?”
Beckett looked sheepish. He took a step
back and pulled his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel so damned helpless. Darius, I’m sorry, and I owe you for earlier. But she’s right, you know. You need to get the hell out of here, and do yourself a favour and stay out. You don’t have any idea what you’re dealing with. Trust me.”
Darius paled visibly, even under the white make-up. His entire demeanour changed as if a mask had dropped. “You think so? I’m sorry to disappoint you, because in fact, I know more than you can imagine and I believe that you can imagine a great deal. My name isn’t Darius Luca, it’s Darius Marinescu.” He gave a short harsh laugh at the surprise in Beckett’s expression. “Yes, that’s right. Andrei is my brother. And I am going to kill him.”
They stood in stunned silence for a moment until he spoke again. His voice had lost the affected foppishness and had acquired a cultured European accent.
“I should attend to her if I were you. She looks unwell.” He pointed an elegant finger at Kat, who in the previous minutes had begun to feel woozy. She leaned against the wall of the club and as Beckett moved towards her, she slid quietly to the floor.
Lane was at her side instantly, her fingers at her neck feeling for her pulse. “She’s okay,” she said quickly. “It’s just a faint; she’ll be all right. She’s had a rough night.” She pulled Kat up into a sitting position as she had begun to stir and mumble.
“Tell me about it,” Beckett muttered. He turned his attention to Kat. “Hey, sweetheart, wake up. C’mon Kat, wake up honey. We need to get you out of here.”
Kat appeared confused momentarily, and then the confusion gave way to a look of horror, as the events of the night replayed in fast forward on her memory screen. She tried to get to her feet; she needed to run. Run away, as far as she could, from the madness that was centred on the three figures that swam before her unfocussed eyes.
Lane read her, and pre-empted the flight. She gripped her arm as Kat tried to shake her off. “Let go of me. Leave me alone, all of you.”
Lane’s grip tightened. “Get my car, Beckett. I’m going to take her to the Sanctuary; she’s having a bad reaction to the turning and her old immune system is putting up a fight. It happens sometimes but it will pass, I just need to get her somewhere safe until it does. The keys are in the ignition.”
Kat was trembling and weeping when Beckett pulled up in Lane’s MG. “What the hell’s happening to her?” he demanded.
“It’s an allergic reaction. It’s temporary, but while it goes on it could get nasty. Her new immune system is rejecting her normal tissue as her vampire DNA takes hold on her body. I have what I need for her at the Sanctuary. I’ll call you later.”
She bundled Kat into the passenger seat of the car and locked it from the outside, before driving away with the screech that left half of the rubber from her tyres on the road.
Darius had remained still and silent whilst they attended to Kat. Beckett turned his attention back to the boy.
“So what’s the story? Andrei’s your brother? I have to tell you, that doesn’t endear you to me. So, tell me about it, and I’d better be impressed.”
“Oh, I think you’ll be impressed. I’ll tell you what you want to know, but not because you scare me, but because I think we can help each other. And if he stays true to form, Andrei won’t be back here tonight.”
“You seem confident about that. Where will he go?”
“Anywhere he wants. You forget what he is.”
“I assure you, I forget nothing. But you’re right about one thing; it’s a waste of time staying round here. I’m going to ask you nicely to come back with me and tell me a story.”
Darius smiled. “You have no need to threaten me Beckett, however you dress it up. I’ll go with you – but on the understanding that you tell me your story in return. It’s only fair.”
“Maybe. My Jeep is around the corner. Do you drink, Darius Marinescu? I hope so, because I’m going to get stinking drunk and I would rather do it with company.”
CHAPTER TWENTY- FOUR
Kat had continued to shake and weep quietly as Lane drove, too fast, through the empty streets of Newport towards the Sanctuary. Behind, above and below the façade of an Indian restaurant, the Sanctuary was a warren of rooms and corridors where vampires who obeyed the code could go to feed from donors in safety, and those who were in any kind of trouble could find help. The Council had set up such establishments in most major cities, concealed behind innocent eating or drinking establishments where the comings and goings at late hours of the night would not attract too much attention from locals or the police; their fronts were always respectable businesses which operated legitimately. The Sanctuary was a lifeline to many.
Lane stopped the car outside the Taj Restaurant, ignoring the double yellow lines at the kerbside; there was no time for the niceties of legal parking, she’d send someone out to move the car as soon as she had Kat safe inside.
She was prepared for Kat to try and run but, as she opened the car door. Lane could see that she was in no state to be running anywhere. She gently put her arm around Kat’s back and helped her out of the car. “It’s okay, Kat. You’re going to be fine; you’re safe and you’re going to stay safe. This will pass. I promise you. You have to trust me again. Can you do that?”
Kat nodded feebly. Lane’s voice held a quality that made it hard to resist her. Besides, she really had no choice; she couldn’t even stand unaided, let alone run.
Inside the front door there was an entrance to the left into the restaurant and another directly ahead which led through to the rear and upstairs, into the Sanctuary. Lane pushed the door open with her shoulder as she held on to Kat and guided her into a lobby that would have not been out of place in any up-market hotel. A reception desk at the rear of the lobby was manned by a pretty young girl. She stood up immediately as Lane and Kat entered and took a key from the board behind the desk.
“Hi Doc. You’ll need a room I guess. Your usual one next to the clinic is free. I’ll come with you; it looks like you have your hands full.”
Lane smiled warmly at her. “Hello Jane, this is Kat and we’ll need the room for the rest of the night and maybe part of tomorrow. OK?”
“Always glad to help. Know the blood group?”
“Not yet, but it’s all right, she’s fed. It’s a reaction to the turning, she needs some Anti-HVV and a long sleep and she’ll be fine. If Paul Beckett calls, put him through will you, and I’ll need to make a call to the Council later. We have a problem. Anyone else check in tonight?”
“No, it’s been quiet. Thank God. There’s just me and a couple of donors.”
Lane frowned. She knew the vampire community in Wales had grown and a quiet night at the Sanctuary meant only one thing: death. Either a vampire or an innocent victim was no more.
Jane opened the door for them and flicked the lights into life. They were subdued in deference to vampires’ photophobia; the painful reaction to bright light. She walked ahead and pulled the long drapes closed, even the lights of the city could hurt the delicate retinas. She tossed the key onto a small table on her way out.
“Just ring down if you need anything. I’m on duty all night; I’ll get your call when you’re ready.”
“Can you be an angel and get my car moved around the back? I’m not in the mood for the clampers.”
“Sure. I’ll keep your keys behind the desk. G’night.”
Lane sat Kat down onto the comfortable bed and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in her own.
“I’m sorry, Kat. It’s been tough and I’m afraid it’s going to get a hell of a lot worse at some point. I’m going to give you a shot. It’s called Anti-HVV, and it will help your immune system to accept your new DNA.
Kat seemed bewildered but offered no resistance as Lane bared her arm yet again. She didn’t flinch at the sting of the needle and allowed Lane to lay her down and cover her with the warm quilt. In minutes the shaking subsided and she gave herself up to the sleep that she needed so b
adly.
Lane didn’t relax though; she knew that Kat’s dreams would be lurid and frightening as her mind tried to assimilate the horrors of her new life. She paced the room and smoked her favourite French cigarettes continuously, clicking her thumb and fingernail together as she prowled the room trying to put some order to her erratic thoughts. It was obvious that the situation locally was escalating and that there were some hard-core vicious vampires operating in her territory.
It also meant that she was close to her quarry and the thought made her quicken with anticipation. Her hunt over the past centuries, constantly changing her identity and location, losing loved ones in a steady stream of grief and death, could soon be over. She knew that she should notify the Council, but there was a dark nugget of doubt somewhere deep within.
Recently she had begun to fear that there was corruption at the very heart of the Council, and she didn’t know yet who she could trust. She knew though that she would be bound by any decision they made and that wasn’t acceptable. She had waited too long to let go of the satisfaction of seeing her maker perish and now thanks to sharing Kat’s long-buried memories, she knew where to find him. With the instinct of ages she knew that she would find Santorini and Nik there too, so maybe she would be able to help Kat in the process – by bringing back her son. She would ignore her allegiances to the Council and see this through on her own.
She looked at Kat sleeping soundly and pulled the drapes aside to see the sky streaked with the mauves and lilacs of the coming day. Kat would sleep for the next few hours at least.
Lane made a sudden decision and snatched up the telephone. Jane answered quickly.
“Jane, I need a babysitter.”
“No problem, Doc. I’ll get one of the donors to take the desk and come up myself. Be right there.”
Lane put down the phone and slipped on her shoes. “Sleep tight honey,” she said to Kat.
Not waiting for Jane to arrive, Lane left the door ajar and met her in the corridor. “She should sleep for hours,” she said. “When she wakes, tell her to call Paul Beckett. She knows the number.”
