by Jan McDonald
Beckett was silent, assimilating the information.
“Well, I didn’t expect a fanfare but you could say something,” she said.
“Have you told Lane?” he asked quietly.
Helena shook her head. “Her phone’s off. I didn’t want to leave her a message. It’s too important.”
“Do me a favour. Don’t tell her yet. She’s kinda hooked up at the moment. I’ll tell her later and get her to call you. So you think you may have this thing nailed?”
Helena shook her head, “As I said, it’s in it’s infancy but I believe that it may be the answer. There is a whole lot more to do yet. And it may not work. But I believe it to be the only possible solution.”
Beckett nodded his head and ran his fingers through his prematurely grey hair. “Okay, then for the moment, let’s keep this possibility between us. Okay?”
“Beckett, it’s Lane that brought me here and Lane that pays my salary.”
“Actually it’s the Vampire High Council that pays your salary and funded this lab. All I’m asking you is until you are sure, let’s not raise hopes unduly, eh?”
His eyes penetrated hers and it was she that looked away. “Can I ask you why?”
“Because … because she believes there is a cure for me. If that isn’t so then I want to be the one to tell her. Please.”
“Some would say that you are fortunate in many ways. You have super strength and speed and your senses are so accentuated that …”
“Stop,” interrupted Beckett. “Stop there. I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful for my present state. But the fact is I am having problems with other aspects of it. “
Helena was quiet for a moment and then she said, “You have great spirit, Beckett. You will find a way to be all you are become.”
He went pale and stared at her. “What did you say?”
“I said you will find a way to be all you are become.”
“I need to go, I’m sorry. Please think about what I have asked you.”
“You are my prime patient Beckett, despite whoever pays my salary. But once I know that this is the right way to go, I will talk to Lane.”
Beckett nodded. “Gotta go,” he muttered as he went through the door.
Outside he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. So that was it. He was a vampire for keeps. Well for eternity it would seem. He tried to find some advantages and decided it would keep; after all he had all the time in the world.
The reception area of the Sanctuary was deserted but he detected someone in the adjacent kitchen and from the chemical odour that assailed his nostrils it seemed that instant noodles were on the menu.
He pushed open the kitchen door and startled the young volunteer. He had only seen her there once before but Lane had brought her on board over a year ago.
“Hi, Norma isn’t it?”
“Naomi,” she replied. “Hi Beckett.” She was about twenty he thought and had an intelligent expression. He remembered then, she was a classical music student and music was her life and in her soul and as he reached out to her the music flooded his mind. He smiled at her, more relaxed than he had felt for days.
“Sorry. Naomi. Have you seen Angel? Or Darius?”
“They were here but they both left. Darius seemed in a hurry and after he had gone Angel was worried about him and went after him. Haven’t a clue where they went.” She poured boiling water into a plastic pot and the chemicals gave off their acrid aroma making him feel nauseous and reminding him of his present hunger.
“When? When did they leave?” he demanded.
“Just after you guys.”
Beckett looked at his watch. They’d been gone for hours.
“They both left you messages though,” she said almost as an afterthought. “Behind the desk.”
Beckett strode back into the reception area and began rummaging through the various papers on the desk. He recognised Angel’s handwriting as his hunger peaked and he felt his incisors beginning their descent. He had to feed and soon whilst he was still in control.
Angel’s note was wordy and wandering but the gist of it was that she had left him blood in a collecting bag in Lane’s room. She was sorry not to wait for him but she was extremely worried about Darius … at which point Beckett knew the intensity of the blood lust and tossed the note back onto the desk as he headed for Lane’s room, slamming the door behind him.
His eyes were clouded in the now familiar red haze and he snatched at the plastic bag that was inside a thermal pouch that kept it at body temperature scowling at the thought of the anticoagulant in it. But his hunger was above that and he seized it, ripped the seal open and drank. His hunger was rabid and he gave no thought to the savage way he sucked from the bag.
He didn’t stop until he had drained the plastic pouch and he felt his heart rate stabilise to its new deathly rhythm then he crossed to the sink and rinsed his mouth and face.
Back in reception feeling a whole lot better he strolled over to Naomi who was deep in concentration on her noodles.
“How can you eat that crap?” he asked, smiling at her.
“I could say the same,” she replied in good humour, “but I won’t.”
“You just did.”
She beamed at him. “Better?”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
The note from Angel lay where he had tossed it and he read it again slowly this time.
Sorry, Beckett. I just couldn’t wait for you. Darius took a phone call from Michael Rabb, I think he said he was the Patriarch, is that right? He was very upset after it and wouldn’t tell me about it. I’ve never seen him in the state he was in. Oh by the way, I left what you need in Lane’s room. The battery is dead on my phone so I couldn’t call you. I expect you have been trying to get hold of me. Naomi is holding the fort.
He scanned through the note, blah blah blah blah, until he came to the relevant part. The kid really needed a lesson in concise communication.
I waited as long as I could then I went after Darius. I hope I’m in time. Don’t be angry with me please, he was in a terrible state. He left you a note too. It’s in the envelope on the desk. I’m afraid I read it. I had to know where he’s gone.
Beckett shook his head, what the hell was going on?
He ripped open the envelope from Darius without ceremony and went pale. “Oh shit,” he said to no one in particular.
“I’ll be with Lane at the Cedars if Angel comes back. Get her to call me straight away,” he shouted to Naomi as he headed for the door.
She nodded at him and returned to her noodles.
Speed limits went out of the window as he headed down the Brecon road oblivious to speed cameras and he was relieved that all traffic lights were on his side.
Ten minutes later he hurled himself out of his Jeep slamming the door so hard it rebounded and hung open. He was inside in vampire speed and only Lane saw him approach.
She turned her worried face to him as he entered the room.
“Beckett?”
“We need to speak with Mihai,” he said. “I don’t know what the hell is happening. Darius took a call from him and left in a hurry and in a state. I didn’t call him from the Sanctuary; I thought we should speak to him together. Here,” he said thrusting Darius’s note at her.
She took it and looked up at him, worry creasing her ancient but still beautiful face.
The note was brief and to the point. It simply said, Gone to Greece.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: GOING TO GREECE
“What the hell does he think he’s playing at? Thinks he’s bleeding Shirley Valentine or something!” Beckett fumed.
“Mihai, it’s Lane,” she said into the phone.
“Ah, Lane, my dear, I called you earlier and spoke with our young friend. I must say he ended the conversation very abruptly. Is he all right?”
“I don’t know,” she replied tersely, “maybe you can enlighten me. What did you say to him? He’s gone flying off to Greece! Quite literally, I presume.”
Michael Rabb was quiet for a moment. “That is very unfortunate and very irresponsible of him. I called you but he answered. I asked him to get you to call me back because as I said to you earlier, we do have a problem over there. I told you it wasn’t over. The job wasn’t finished cleanly, Lane and one of them is still alive. It appears as though the nuns have been caring for him.”
“What??” she demanded. “How could that happen?”
“That is what we have to find out. And deal with it.”
Lane’s face was stone, “Which one? Which one is alive and how?”
“The one that wears the mask.”
“Did you tell Darius that?”
Mihai was silent as he replayed his earlier conversation. “I don’t think he gave me chance. I may have said it was the younger one. Why?”
“Because I believe he thinks it’s his brother Andrei that has survived. And if that is the case, he’s gone to finish it. It is all that drove him for years after Andrei slaughtered their parents and when he missed the chance to finish it, he felt empty. This will drive him again until it is over. He won’t care that it isn’t Andrei; he will transfer his rage and his pain onto Greg Randall just as if Andrei was the one to survive. But he won’t be strong enough. Randall will eat him alive.”
“When can you leave?”
Lane tossed her chestnut mane. “As soon as I can. Beckett and I are in the middle of something here but we must leave it. I’ll make the arrangements.”
“No, I’ll call our contact at the airport,” Mihai replied thoughtfully. “This needs to be done carefully, Lane. We can’t afford a mess. Get yourselves to Cardiff as soon as you can and there will be a charter plane waiting for you. I doubt Darius has had that advantage. You may be able to catch up with him if we act quickly. This has to be settled. The consequences of his survival may hasten the inevitable between the Born and the Created. He has to be dealt with. I’ll meet you there. Go to Parthavos and take the road to Lourdas about two miles along that road there is the small monastery of Agios Petros. It’s where Sister Maria and the other nuns went after the fire. Greg Randall, or Santorini as he prefers to call himself, is with them.”
“I understand, Patriarch,” she answered formally.
She replaced the receiver slowly and looked over at Beckett.
“I get it,” he said to her unspoken words, having both sides of the conversation.
“What about Jude? I’ll have to speak with Jo and see if it can still be done with just Sabine and himself. It’s a big responsibility for her.”
“She’s up to it.”
Lane entered the Hogan with a tray of food and bottled water for Jo and Sabine.
He lifted his weathered face at her entry and nodded slowly. “There are things in this world that sometimes will not wait. You are torn, my dear friend, but you must go. I will see to this man and with the help of this one with a pure heart we will bring him through.” He looked down at Jude who appeared to be sleeping, though Lane knew better, but here was a hint of peace about his face that Lane had not previously seen.
Sabine still sat huddled in the blanket given to her by Jo earlier in the ceremony. She looked sad and weary as her memories of Abram layered themselves over the present.
“Where are you going?”
Lane put her hand on the girl’s cheek, “We have to go. I know you don’t understand but we have to.” She turned to Jo again. “Is he going to be all right?”
“I truly don’t know. The evil is from him but Wolf remains. Only he will be able to defeat him. The struggle is his now. The Holy Ones are watching over him and the Ancient Ones are giving guidance. When he returns from their world, then I will know.”
“What about the Blessing Way?”
“Blessing Way will give him peace and strength to continue in whatever form he retains, he will visit with The Holy Ones again and be guided once more by the Ancient Ones. He will make the choice.”
“I really have to go, Jo.”
“I know.”
“Will you wait for me?”
“If the Ancient Ones will it. If not, you know where to find me.”
Lane bent and kissed the old man on his leathery cheek. “Thank you Joseph Timberwolf.”
“The Holy People go with you, Lane. Wherever it is that you are headed.”
Beckett entered the Hogan hand outstretched to Jo. The old man ignored it and stood to embrace him closely. “Remember what I said to you. You carry the light my friend, and sometimes when the light is so bright it blinds you. But the light will always conquer darkness. When darkness is at its deepest the light is still there waiting to shine.”
Beckett was about to respond when a low groan from Jude brought them all to his side.
Jo stooped to bathe his face as Jude opened his eyes. He looked directly at Jo and whispered hoarsely “They said I must go with them. They will need my help.”
Jo shook his head. “The Enemy Way should take three days and nights. You are not ready, my friend. Wolf is still strong in you. If we do not complete Enemy Way correctly he may walk with you always.”
Jude closed his eyes. “I know. It was my choice. If it wasn’t for Lane and Beckett I would have no life. I was ready to end it back at the farm. I owe them.”
Beckett interrupted him. “You owe us nothing. Stay here and be healed. Jo has travelled from Arizona to help you get rid of the wolf in you. You owe him that much.”
“Everyone is talking of owing,” said Jo quietly. “It is not our way. The Holy People have consented to Jude’s return for a reason I do not yet know. But they will make it clear to me when the time is right. Blessing Way must be performed and I will ask them for guidance. But if it is to be that he accompanies you then I too will go with you.”
“And so will I,” said Sabine in a tone that brooked no argument.
Beckett ran his fingers through his hair, “Now hang on a minute. No-one is going with us. What do you think? It’s some kind of group vacation? Lane and I have to go and finish a job that we left undone, albeit unknowingly. We have to find one of the most dangerous of our kind and kill him. In such a way as I won’t even begin to describe to you. That won’t sit well with you, Jo. And you, Jude, you look like shit. You’re going nowhere. We can’t afford for you to slow us down. And I won’t be responsible for any of you. Tell them, Lane.”
Before Lane could speak Jude propped himself up on his elbow. “I don’t recall asking you to be responsible for me. And I can match you speed for speed and I think you know what I am capable of. I saw my grandfather, Beckett. He told me on behalf of all my ancestors that I have to go with you. He said it was my destiny. Fate has crossed our paths and that is all there is to it. I won’t slow you down and you know it.”
Lane raised an eyebrow then made a sudden decision. “Then I suggest we get going. Darius already has four hours on us. He’ll probably have to fly to Thessaloniki and travel from there to Larissa and on to Parthavos. We will land in Kozani as before and maybe gain back two hours. If we go now.”
Sabine looked confused. Jo picked up her hand and said softly, “It seems we are going to Greece.”
CHAPTER TWENTY: AGIOS PETROS
Sister Maria knelt in front of the heavily carved altar. Her long black habit draped itself over her heels and her black veil mimicked her once long auburn hair as it fell over her shoulders and down her back. Since the fire at the old monastery of Agios Georgios the remaining nuns of her order had accompanied her to Agios Petros, an abandoned Cistercian monastery whose last remaining monk had died two years previously.
Her prayers ended, she lifted her head to the huge ornate silver crucifix that she had salvaged from the flames at great personal cost. The events of that night lived in her memory as if they had occurred yesterday and she knew they would never leave her until the day she left this world. Inevitably the sight of the crucifix sent her back to that night.
Framed in the glow of the flames that were engulfing the monastery she had raised
her hand in farewell and blessing to Lane and Beckett along with their companions Mihai and Darius. She had stood there for a while watching them drive into the distance. Her heart was heavy. Heavy with guilt at what she had been an unwitting party to for many years, deceived by the Mother Superior, Sister Angelique, and the old nun, Sister Agnes. She had believed she was tending the body of their Saint, Agios Georgios when in fact she had been helping to sustain an ancient and most ruthless vampire. And heavy with sadness that her life as she had known it from the age of fifteen had ended.
There were several casualties in the carnage of that night, Sister Angelique being one of them. Maria had evacuated all of the nun’s prior to the fire, taking them to the safety of the olive grove on the overlooking hillside. Sister Agnes had passed away naturally the night before and with Maria’s new knowledge of the true nature of the convent, she was lost.
Local farmers and residents from the nearby village had seen the flames and wanting to protect their Saint had turned up en masse to put out the flames. She felt her heart would break as she saw their devotion to a lie. But they had quenched the flames in the main part of the monastery and the thickness of the door to the chapel surrounded in stone had done much to prevent it from completely succumbing to the inferno. Beckett had done his job almost too well.
A group of farmers and their sons, it had taken twelve of them, had taken it upon themselves to move the huge ornate silver shrine from the chapel, believing it to be the resting place of their beloved Saint. She knew she could never tell them the truth. Perhaps it was better to leave it to the flames but the villagers would have none of it, transferring it to the monastery of Agios Petros on the back of a dilapidated truck, the usual purpose of which was to transport olives to market. The weight of the shrine threatened to break through the old timbers on the bed of the truck but the owner would have gladly sacrificed his truck bed for the rescue of their beloved Georgios.
