by Jan McDonald
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR: THE GOD OF HIS ABANDONMENT
A deep pain had lodged in Beckett’s heart and his tears fell unchecked as he stumbled from the chapel with his precious burden. No one else moved, too shocked to comprehend their loss. He had no idea of where he was going; only that he had to take her from that place.
From out of nowhere Sister Maria was before him. She laid her hand gently on Lane’s brow. “Bring her to my room,” she said.
Beckett followed her, grateful for direction. He laid Lane on the small bed and she opened her eyes.
“So, Handsome, how did we do?”
He nodded through his tears. “We did okay. They have all gone. Darius and I settled with Santorini, and Jude, well Jude put the shit up me, let alone them. A few of them legged it and the last I saw of Vasile he was heading for cover. Don’t speak now, you need to rest and recover.”
He stroked her hair, matted with blood, some of it hers, some not. Her wounds were deep and lethal and continued to ooze the red stuff. He stared in desperation trying to stem the bleeding from one wound to the other. Her breathing was laboured and her eyes were once again closed although her hand was tightly clasped around Beckett’s.
He didn’t hear Mihai enter the room behind him. Or the quiet sobbing from Darius.
He was in the zone, focussed, in a comfortable place that he had shunned for years. In a place where there was peace and understanding. He was on his knees at the side of her, her hand clasped between his and he was praying. Praying as he never had before. Not pleading, not demanding; just seeking an understanding with the one who had made the plan. He offered and made no bargain, his prayers were for her soul and he could feel the brilliance of it, see it, even through closed eyes.
She coughed and red bubbles appeared at the corner of her mouth and he wiped them away with his fingertips.
“She needs to sleep,” said Mihai. “It’s her only chance, deep vampire sleep while her body heals.”
As if to concur, Lane opened her eyes again and smiled at Beckett. “I love you, Handsome.”
Beckett cleared his throat, “I think I’ve always loved you, Legs. But it wasn’t right, then.”
“And now?”
“Now you won’t have to watch me grow old. You won’t have to grieve for me because of old age. Now we are equals.”
She tried to nod but it made her cough red bubbles again. “I know. I couldn’t have born that pain. I need to sleep Beckett. And I don’t know for how long. I think it will be long.”
He stroked her head and kissed her blood stained lips as reverently as if he were drinking from a holy chalice. “As long as it takes. I’ll be here. Waiting for you.”
She smiled and her facial muscles relaxed as she slipped into the depths of vampire sleep.
He spoke to her, lovingly and softly but her ears couldn’t hear, she was out of his reach and he would have to wait. He didn’t care for how long.
Mihai put his hand on his shoulder and gripped tightly. Beckett didn’t move. He heard Darius still weeping and turned to him. “Don’t,” he said. “She isn’t gone. Just sleeping. We’ll take her home.”
Mihai gripped his shoulder even more tightly. “No, Beckett. She’s too weak. It would be the end to take her from here.”
“But ...”
“I will take care of her,” the small young voice, wracked with emotion, interrupted him. He looked up to see the young Sister Anna, her tear stained face betraying the loss of her innocence. She had seen too much for one so young.
“I promise you, Beckett. I will spend my days caring for her, until she is ready to wake. There will be no violence, no blood shed, and no blood lust. When she needs sustenance, I will feed her. Please allow me to do this.”
His eyes penetrated hers and he read her and he knew that this was the right thing to do. He nodded. “I will make sure you have all you need.”
“As will I,” said Mihai.
It was too much for Darius and he had left the room, still in shock and in search of Angel. He didn’t know how much more he could take.
Mihai nodded to Beckett and left.
In the minutes that followed Beckett understood. If he had expected an angel’s trumpet or divine bright light, he would have been sadly disappointed. As it was, the warmth began somewhere in the middle of his chest and slowly spread throughout his body. His soul was alight with prayer and he reached out to the God of his abandonment, communing on behalf of her soul and her healing.
And the God of his abandonment answered him.
Anna was behind him then, a small bowl of water in her hand.
“Please allow me.”
He nodded his acceptance and knew that in that acceptance came his own redemption and his salvation.
He stood to allow her close and Anna smiled at him. Gently she washed the congealing blood from Lane’s face and softly smoothed the dark chestnut hair from her face. She was whispering to her as a mother to a child although he could not hear the words and refrained from the intrusion of locking onto her voice. Lane was in good hands.
He bent forwards and laid his lips on hers. ”Sleep well, my love.” As he stood upright again, his eyes fell onto the pocket watch that Lane always wore on a chain around her neck. He gently lifted it over her head and put it in his pocket. I‘ll watch the time for both of us.”
Beckett turned to leave. Anna’s expression was questioning.
“There are things to do,” he said. “It isn’t over until … well, it isn’t over yet.”
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE: THE STORM BRINGER
The gathering in the chapel was a sombre group. Sabine had been released from the enforced unconsciousness imposed by Lane when she had slipped away from him, and now she was on her knees mopping pools of fast congealing blood from the chapel floor alongside Maria. Jude sat in the corner, gradually relinquishing the hold of the wolf, exhausted and shocked.
Mihai strode to meet Beckett, looking grim.
“I can’t tell you how sorry, I am, Beckett. But while she sleeps, there’s hope.”
Beckett’s cheek muscles twitched as he fought the tears. “I know, “ he said quietly.
“Stay here, my friend. I will take care of what has to be done now.”
Beckett understood. Dead they may be, but unless the vampires were dealt with in the old way, they would rise on the following day. The gristly task was not beyond him but Mihai was insistent.
“I will see to it.”
A soft lilting voice behind him made him spin around.
“I’ll help you.” Helena stood close to Mihai, her eyes reaching into his, comprehension and compassion evolved to a new level. “Please.”
Mihai smiled in gratitude and something else. Something that suddenly seemed too precious to be let go. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.”
She smiled a half smile and stepped back outside.
Beckett was suffused with an inner peace that he had not known for years. “I will do what is necessary when you’ve finished.”
Mihai beamed at him. “I knew you would. Thank you Beckett.”
“The Church is no longer a part of me, but I believe you. Once a priest always a priest.”
Mihai nodded. “You will be our priest, Father. And welcome. There is no need of a Church, and religion is dying. Connection to a higher power of whatever name is a personal thing. Will you wear the collar?”
“I don’t know, perhaps until she wakes.”
Mihai was ahead of him. ”There are no conditions here Beckett, and celibacy and loneliness would certainly not be one of them. She will be proud of you.”
Sister Maria was behind him then, her hand outstretched with her own wooden rosary.
“Take this, Father. Say your own prayers with it, whatever they may be; they will reach the same place.”
He smiled his thanks and hugged her. “Thank you Maria, but I would rather you kept it and prayed for us all.” Where he had just come from no icons or symbolic jewellery were necessar
y, no pomp, pageantry and long frocks. It had been one to one.
“Where’s Angel?” His question met with silence. “No. Oh no. Where is she?”
Mihai was grim, “She’s outside with Helena and Jo. I don’t know if she’s going to make it, Beckett.”
Beckett strode outside as lilac fingers were reaching across the dawn sky. Jo was sitting cross legged with Angel draped across him, cradled in his arms like a small child. His eyes were closed and he was chanting in Navajo. Helena had her fingers around Angel’s wrist looking grave.
She looked up as Beckett and Mihai approached.
“I took a chance,” she said. “It was all I could think of. She went down like a stone; I hope to God I haven’t killed her.”
Mihai put his hand on her shoulder. “She was already dead,” he said. “Turned by one of the Undead, she would have risen tomorrow night. And what would have been done to her then would be worse. You did the right thing, and thank God, you did. It may save her, it may not. But you gave it a shot. We must just watch and wait now. How is she doing?”
Helena shrugged. “Her pulse is deathly slow but it’s strong, her breathing is barely discernable.”
“Can you leave her? I could use your offer of help.”
Helena got to her feet and watched Jo and Angel for several moments and then moved close to Mihai.
“I believe I know what is expected of me. I’m a long way from being a surgeon, but I’ll do my best. With you to help me through it.”
Mihai smiled at her, a smile that reached his eyes and her heart. He put his arm around her and they walked slowly together into the gloomy chapel, Beckett followed several paces behind them.
One by one they carried the bodies of the dead vampires from the chapel into the tiny garden at the rear. Mihai struck the first blow, deftly removing the head of Mircea as Beckett intoned the ancient prayers that would seek to release the soul. Helena swallowed hard and closed her eyes. She opened them to see Mihai removing Mircea’s heart. In the distance thunder rolled. Fabulous she thought. Sound effects.
She watched as one of Vasile’s cousins was despatched the same way. “Okay,” she said, “I’m ready.”
Her hands were trembling imperceptibly as she bent over the body of one of the Vasilakis dead, blade in shaking hand. Thunder rolled again, nearer this time. “There’s a storm coming,” she whispered to no-one in particular.
Mihai’s face was devoid of expression as he concentrated with grim determination on the gristly job in hand. One by one the vampires were laid to rest. As Drakos’s body lay at Mihai’s feet, massive raindrops began to fall and bounce off the hardened ground, soaking them in seconds. The dawn sky had darkened to midnight and the distant thunder became not so distant. Mihai looked up at the sky as a terrible realisation began to slowly dawn.
“Get inside! Quickly. And tell the others to get inside and lock and bolt the doors and windows!”
Helena was about to protest that she wasn’t afraid of a storm and anyway she was already soaked to the skin, but one look at Mihai made her turn and run inside, calling the others as she ran.
Beckett stood firm, “Mihai?”
Mihai looked up at the blackened sky again, “Listen.” He raised Lane’s sword and cut clean through Drakos’s neck, severing the head from the body. Thunder rumbled loudly close by.
Beckett frowned.
Mihai bent over the torso of Drakos and began to cut out his heart.
Lightening crackled and forked to earth.
“Shit!” Mihai exploded. “Help me finish here, Beckett. We must burn the bodies while we can and give them a decent end to indecent lives.”
“The rain will put out any fire, Mihai. Can’t it wait until the storm is passed?”
“The storm isn’t going to pass. It’s coming here. Help me light the fire.”
Beckett had emptied the monastery generator of its petrol and in silence he poured the entire contents over the bodies. Mihai flicked a cigarette lighter into flame and tossed it onto the gruesome remains. With a whoosh the flames licked and flickered, growing in size and ferocity until Mihai and Beckett were driven backwards by the intense heat. Not a garden any more, but a crematorium.
Beckett stared wordlessly at Mihai, searching his face for explanation.
“Lilitu. Someone has woken The Ancient One.”
“I thought The Ancient One was myth.”
Mihai shook his head. “Lilitu is part demon, part vampire; she’s the oldest vampire alive. Though alive isn’t the best way to describe her, she sleeps for many centuries at a time. Only a handful of our kind knows where to find her and that doesn’t include me. She’s a fierce protector of the evil ones. She’s Sumerian and is still there, although it’s Iraq now. She’s known as the Storm Bringer. You probably know her better as Lilith.”
Thunder and lightening filled the electric air. Fork lightening ripped through the inky sky, reaching its electrically charged fingers to the ground, illuminating the entire valley with an electric blue and pink light show accompanied by breaking thunder akin to an explosion.
The petrol was doing its job as an accelerant and the funeral piers were defeating the rain.
Mihai grabbed Beckett and dragged him inside. He banged the door behind them and slammed the bolt home. They dragged a wooden cabinet against the door as Mihai shook his head.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this; doors are no barrier to her. Come on, we need to warn the others.”
Helena had ushered the others inside. Darius was still ashen and hadn’t left Angel’s side. There was no obvious change in her and she was as pale as death. Helena stood to meet them, “Her pulse is stronger and is slightly quicker,” she said. Her eyes met Mihai’s, “Tell me,” she said.
Jude and Sabine were sitting wrapped in each others arms, kissing and oblivious to everything except themselves, Sabine put her head on his shoulders and Beckett could see that his body had resumed its human form. Thunder crashed overhead and the rain had mutated into huge hailstones, slamming into the walls and windows. The lightening followed one crack after another, relentless and without mercy.
Sabine was shaking and pale despite Jude’s efforts to comfort her. Sister Maria was fingering the wooden beads as her lips moved silently through the prayers that were a part of her, as surely as if they had been her breath.
Angel lay on the floor with Jo kneeling by her side, holding her hand, and Helena was next to Darius, her arm around his shoulders.
Lightening forked again accompanied by the incessant bangs of raging thunder. There was a loud crash and the sound of falling masonry. The bell tower had gone and so had part of the roof.
In a shroud of lightening that lit up the chapel a figure landed in front of them and slowly, very slowly, with a roar of rage, stood upright.
Lilitu was among them.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX: LAST STAND
In a flurry of dust, rubble and flame she stood before them.
As they stood in shock Lilitu’s parchment skin and skeletal appearance began to change. She grew taller and her sagging breasts and skin filled out. Her wings were outstretched flapping her rage, and her feminine face gave way to the demon inside. She roared her fury at the killing of some of the highest nobles of the pure blood.
She pointed a bony claw at Mihai, hissing at him, her eyes ablaze.
“You! You are one of the Born, how dare you commit such an offence? You will pay.” Her voice echoed above the cacophony of the storm which continued to batter the tiny monastery.
She flew at him emitting a high pitched, strident cry like that of a demented screech owl. Even to the vampires she moved beyond sight and had laid open Mihai’s chest before they even saw it.
Beckett, Darius and Jude all reacted simultaneously.
Beckett had grabbed Lane’s sword and was lunging impotently as Lilitu moved so quickly she avoided every thrust. Darius pointed Beckett’s pistol at her but failed to track her movements. He daren’t fire in case he hit one
of the others but kept the butt pointed at her, waiting for the clear shot. He waited too long and found himself held in the bony claw, picked up like a rag doll and heading for the yellowed fangs.
Beckett took the opportunity to hit his target and the sword was buried deep in Lilitu’s abdomen. A foul stench filled the air making them gag and retch. He hit again and again, but as each hit caused damage, the other wounds were already healing. And Darius was still held in the vice like grip of the clawed hand, tossed about in her rabid rage.
Helena dragged Mihai away from the violence and bent over him, shaking from head to foot. Her trembling hands found the massive wound and although it was huge, it didn’t appear too deep. His vital organs looked in tact but he was losing too much blood. She pulled off her shirt and pressed it hard to the wound. “Mihai, you listen to me. I just found you and I’m not going to let you off the hook this easily.” Her shirt was already crimson soaked and her hands were fast becoming covered in his blood. “Mihai!”
As Beckett prepared to strike again, Sister Maria was in front of him and she threw her wooden rosary into the demon’s face. There was a fresh roar of fury and her bony hand was swiping through the air. Darius was dropped in a heap and Sister Maria had replaced him in the foul talons. With a sickening crunch, Maria’s neck was broken and she was cast aside as Lilitu took to the air, wildly flapping the leathery wings, eyes ablaze and homing in on Beckett who was slashing frantically at her. It was like trying to cut through mist, she moved so fast.
He leaped into the air, trying for a higher target, but she evaded him deftly. Landing on his feet, he instantly leaped again, swinging the sword as he did so. It failed to make contact.
From the far corner of the room, a deep growl was growing into a savage roar, as Jude once more called on the wolf inside him. His transformation was almost instant and suddenly he was flying at Lilitu, savage jaws and claws ripping and tearing as he landed on her back, vicious teeth ripping into yellowed flesh.
Beckett took his cue and struck her again, full on in the belly. For a split second, Lilitu was still and then with a flash of twisting movements she was trying to dislodge Jude from her neck. But his teeth held fast and Lilitu’s blood, black as ink, was spattering the floor. But still she raged as lightening streaked through the hole in the roof blasting the floor as it hit.
