The Beckett Vampire Trilogy: Midnight Wine, Lycan and Sanctuary

by Jan McDonald

  “This is the grave of the monk. Move back,” he said gruffly to Lucy. His vampire strength enabled him to lift the granite top with ease and he pushed it away as if it had been fashioned from air.

  The skeletal remains of the monk grinned up at him and he made an impatient grab at the bony fingers that, in death, clutched the other half of Lucy’s pendant. The dragon appeared to be smiling and Vasile took it as an omen. Several sharp cracks announced the finger bones breaking as he wrenched the pendant free with a cry of triumph. Without warning he snatched its other half roughly from around Lucy’s neck.

  Putting the two halves together, he peered at the back through the falling gloom. He was angry: could it be that simple? All the years that he had searched for the chalice, had it really never moved from its original home?

  His senses were on full alert and he spun around as the assailant prepared to strike. His arm flew up to deflect the blow and he threw himself towards the vampire that was bearing down on him again. He recognised him as one of his cousins – he was betrayed. He allowed himself a glance at Lucy, but the shout of warning died on his lips as he saw her vulpine smile of satisfaction.

  It was only a split-second but it was enough – his assailant brought the massive stake down hard into his chest and shoved him backwards into the monk’s tomb, where he landed on top of the skeletal remains, blood bubbling around his mouth. His eyes were fixed on Lucy, asking the question – why?

  She knelt at the side of the tomb and snatched both halves of the pendant from his weakening grasp and smiled at him.

  “Why? You of all of us should know the answer to that. Because: why would I settle for you, when I can be the one to resurrect Vlad and be his consort, when he will once again be head of the most powerful vampire House? Once Vlad is back, you will be nothing again.” She glanced at the pendant in her hands. “Thank you for retrieving it for me, I’ll be going now. Die quietly Vasile, this is a holy place.”

  The blood stopped bubbling around his lips and his eyes closed. She waited for several minutes, watching him carefully, reaching out with her vampire senses, and, finally satisfied, she stood up and cast a last glance into the tomb.

  “There’s a good boy,” she said, then allowed herself a harsh laugh. The assailant nodded to her and followed her from the chapel towards the boat. Only when they were safely on the shore did she acknowledge him.

  “You did well, Dumitri, you can be sure that Vlad will reward you. Be good enough to drive me to where this leads. I will need some time with it. Perhaps, while you are waiting you could find me some food. I’m hungry.”

  She let her tongue travel across the pointed canine teeth, ensuring the Dumitri Tepes knew exactly what she meant by ‘food’. He nodded to her and guided her back to Vasile’s car, speaking into his phone as he walked.

  “I have a room for you at the Snagov Club Hotel. There will be a plentiful supply of nourishment there – providing you don’t stay too long.”

  His meaning was clear – leave before the alarm is raised. She smiled, anticipation heightening her hunger; and if there was one thing she had taken from Vasile it was the lust for the kill. The back of the pendant puzzled her, but she was determined to work it out – the less people that saw it the better. Betrayal was easy and almost a way of life in the House of Tepes.

  The room looked out onto the lake and it didn’t take long for Dumitri to knock discreetly at the door with a young man slumped against him. Once inside, Dumitri allowed him to fall to the floor and looked away as Lucy fell on him, a feeding frenzy about to be satisfied. He began to wonder if he had chosen wisely. She was, after all, very young in vampire terms, and young vampires were unpredictable. But she had been very persuasive and the thought of being of service to Vlad had convinced him.

  When she had drained the body of its life-blood she rose, her lower face covered in gore, and she staggered a little, intoxicated by the feasting. His blood was rich and she felt the power surge through her.

  Dumitri was glad to see that there was no blood on the carpet – she hadn’t wasted a drop – and he left in search of a laundry cart. When he returned, pushing his prize, he found Lucy sitting on the bed staring at the pendant. He didn’t speak, he simply lifted the corpse into the cart and left.

  Lucy concentrated hard on the image engraved on the reverse of her pendant in its fullness. It settled in her mind as the image of an ancient fountain. Now she scoured the ether in an effort to place it.

  Tirgoviste – the legend of the bloody chalice being placed on the town fountain with the dire warning that to remove it meant death. Vasile had told her of the legend, now she knew it was true. And she knew the hiding place of the chalice.

  In the darkness of the tomb inside the chapel on Snagov Island, Vasile Tepes opened his eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: TOO LATE

  The vampire network was working on top form and the car was waiting on the tarmac as their plane taxied to a halt. Mihai was first down the steps and into the car, giving instructions to take them as swiftly as possible to Tirgoviste and checking that the equipment he had requested was present and correct. He knew they would have to wait for darkness to cloak their activities – after all, they could hardly break open the foundations of an ancient fountain in broad daylight and get away with it. He prayed that Vasile Tepes would have the same reservations.

  The journey to Tirgoviste took just under 2 hours and for the most part they passed it with small talk. Darius was especially quiet as he took in the countryside of his ancestors. It brought back poisonous memories of his brother Andrei, and how he had killed their parents in a savage attack as a newly-turned, vicious vampire. He remembered how he had vowed to kill him in revenge for those deaths and how in the end it had been Beckett who had done the deed. He swallowed the bitterness that was welling up in his throat and leaned back in the seat with closed eyes. He had seen all he wanted to.

  Lafayette, although from the eighteenth century, had never left New Orleans once he had arrived there from Santa Domingo and he was hungry for the experience. It also served to ward off any misgivings about betraying the First One, or what they may be about to face.

  Lane and Beckett hardly spoke; deep in preparation for the coming fight that they were sure was to come and knowing it was going to be bloody. Mihai too had his eyes closed but only because he was scanning the ether for signs of Jean-Baptiste but coming up empty. The First One had always been able to cloak himself and it seemed as though that was the case.

  Light was fading as they approached Tirgoviste and Mihai gave instructions to the driver to drop them just outside the centre of the city, to wait for them and to come for them at speed if they called. A single nod of understanding was all the response that was required.

  They split into two groups, not wishing to stand out as they made their way to the fountain. Mihai was striding ahead and as Lane and Beckett rounded the corner behind him they were stunned at the sight ahead of them.

  The fountain was surrounded by police and the base lay broken open and scattered on the ground.

  They were too late.

  *

  Lucy clutched the bag containing the Bloody Chalice to her as she stepped inside Vasile’s home opposite Poenari. Nicolae had returned – where else would he go? And there was nothing to connect him to Davina’s escape, even if Vasile knew that she was still alive. This was his home too, where he had lived and served Vasile for many years.

  “Miss Lucy – you are alone. Where is my master?”

  “He will be here presently,” she replied. “He can only be a short while behind me. He sent me home ahead of him to prepare for a special dinner tonight. He bade me tell you to prepare his favourite.” She laughed, “I hope you know what that is, because he didn’t share it with me. He wanted it to be a surprise, I think.”

  Nicolae nodded to her. “I do indeed, miss. I will begin the preparations immediately. Is there anything that I can get for you in the meanwhile?”

  Luc
y shook her head. “No, thank you. I believe I will rest before I get ready, I believe Vasile wants this to be a special evening.” She tossed her luxuriant hair and laughed again, as she began to climb the stairs. Once on the landing, she was satisfied that Nicolae had taken himself off to the kitchen and she slipped back down the stairs and down the second staircase to the basement.

  Vasile kept the crypt locked and the key on him at all times, but she had taken it from his pocket as he lay in the tomb on Snagov. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door and closed it quietly behind her. She turned a switch which lit the gas torches in their sconces on the wall, creating the atmosphere that Vlad would have been familiar with.

  The stone coffin stood in the centre of the room on an ornately carved plinth and she felt a moment’s hesitation and anxiety as she approached it. He laid there, not much more than a skeleton with a fine covering of skin and grizzled hair, appearing as one long dead – but she knew how far away from the truth that was.

  Suddenly emboldened, she stepped towards the coffin and held out the Bloody Chalice.

  “I have what you need Vlad. I have brought it to you and offer myself to you, to stand beside you.”

  A blinding pain in her head made her gasp as she heard the ’voice’ from the desiccated remains inside her head.

  “You have done well, and you shall have your reward. Come closer.”

  She hesitated, suddenly overcome with anxiety, but this was no time to back away, she had come this far and her future as consort to the most feared vampire was assured. All she had to do was to open a vein and allow her blood to pool in the chalice and put it to Vlad’s lips. A surge of energy washed through her and she raised her wrist to her lips, feeling her canine fangs sharp against her lower lip as she ripped open her wrist and allowed her blood to pour into the bottom of the chalice.

  A hiss came from the dried lips in the coffin and she felt the thrill of triumph as her blood mingled with the centuries-old stain within the chalice itself. She didn’t know what she had expected – some miraculous alchemy producing a red, foaming, magical elixir? What actually happened was nothing. The hiss from inside the coffin carried with it an insistence, an urgency that brought a response from somewhere deep within her chest. She leaned over the coffin, half-expecting Vlad’s eyes to be open, but not a muscle had moved. And yet she could ‘hear’ him, urging her to put the chalice to his long-dead mouth. She imagined that she could see his eyes, imploring her to get on with it.

  She lowered the chalice into the coffin, positioning it over the dried-out lips, tilting it ever so slightly, watching the blood edging closer to the lip of the chalice, close enough to allow the first drop to fall – apparently in slow-motion – onto the mouth of Vlad Dracula. She allowed herself a nervous laugh – she had seen the movies, especially the old ones, where the blood dripped onto Christopher Lee’s mouth and his eyes snapped open and …

  The hand that hit her hard on the side of her face reached out and grabbed the chalice before it fell to the ground and spilled its content onto the stone floor. Such a waste was not to be tolerated.

  He raised the chalice to his lips and drank deeply from it, then turned his attention to the unconscious Lucy. Another waste. Such a shame.

  He bent low over her inert body and opened her throat in one smooth movement, gorging himself on her blood before even a drop fell to the floor. He felt his energy returning, his strength beginning to surge through him again. He closed his eyes to enjoy the pleasure of the sensations, sighing in satisfaction.

  He pushed Lucy’s dead body aside with a contemptuous kick, betrayal still bitter in Vasile Tepes’ throat.

  “Now, old man, you will feed on Tepes blood and the ritual to restore you will be as written.”

  He closed his eyed in order to appreciate the moment. A bony hand reached up from the stone coffin and grasped his wrist. “Not here! You know where.”

  Images of the ruins at Poenari flooded his mind and his eyes snapped open. Vlad had not moved a muscle, but his communication had been imperative.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: THE FIRST ONE

  Mihai cursed, long and loud, and shrugged Lane’s consoling hand away from his shoulder.

  “I need to think! We can’t afford to be this far behind him. If he manages to wake Vlad – well, let’s just say it won’t be good.”

  Mike was beginning to regret accompanying them, feeling more and more like a spare wheel, not really understanding their conversations but catching up rapidly – he was a fast learner. And what he was learning made him uneasy.

  Darius was looking tired and claiming most of Beckett’s attention, so Mike was relying on Lafayette for conversation and company. He had warmed to the Louisiana vampire and was fascinated by talk of his human life as a slave on the plantations of Santa Domingo and then New Orleans before his life was forever changed when he crossed paths with a thirsty vampire.

  Lafayette’s tone was light-hearted, “You haven’t asked me what most people do – those that don’t know I’m a vampire, that is.”

  “And that would be?” Mike replied.

  “Voodoo! Is it real? Is it practiced widely in New Orleans?”

  Mike laughed. He was no stranger to the Dark Arts and the shadow world of demons. “I’ve had the odd brush or two with the occult world and its inhabitants, so I’m guessing Voodoo is just as prolific as the European Black Magic. I can’t say I’m familiar with its structure or rituals though. Maybe I should visit when this is over. You up to playing host to a demon hunter, Lafayette? Or would that ruin your street cred?”

  Lafayette grinned, flashing his white teeth. “OK, then, I deserved that. So, if I may be so bold, what the hell are you doing here?”

  Mike became serious again, “Beckett is a friend – a good friend. He’s in trouble, I’m here. He’s done the same for me. I’m ready for whatever and I’m not averse to removing heads from deserving candidates, if you follow me. I’m not quite up to speed on vampires in general and this one in particular, but I catch on real quick. I won’t get in your way.”

  Lafayette seemed reassured and gave Mike a friendly pat on the shoulder. Mike nodded his understanding. Lafayette had needed to know that Mike had his back as much as he had his, and that, when the chips were down, he wouldn’t be a liability.

  Mike wandered over to Beckett. “How’s he doing?” he asked, nodding at Darius.

  “He’s OK. He’d be better in the Sanctuary, but that can’t happen, so he’s better with us than not. He’s come through the worst, but there’s a darkness inside him spawned by his creator – another fucking Tepes! It makes him unpredictable.”

  “Tell me what I can do, whatever it is.”

  Beckett nodded his appreciation and gave Mike a smile he didn’t really feel. “It’s not looking good here, Mike. If Vasile has the chalice and performs the Waking Ritual …”

  Mike interrupted him. “The Waking Ritual?”

  Beckett sighed – the thought of waking Vlad filled him with dread and it seemed as if merely talking about it would bring down calamity. Still, Mike had to know what was coming.

  “You know about the Long Sleep, when vampires voluntarily hibernate when weary of centuries of living, or when they are seriously wounded and need lengthy healing, well, sometimes they sleep for too long or are too seriously wounded to bring themselves out of it. It doesn’t happen often but, when it does, there is a ritual feeding – you could relate it to a blood transfusion – that will wake them up. There is a legend about this Bloody Chalice among those that believe Vlad was never killed outright; that performing the Waking Ritual with the Bloody Chalice, so steeped in blood that its very fabric is infused with it, will bring Vlad back. If that happens, all of the rebel Houses will align behind him and the Council will be wiped out. Blood-lust will rule our kind and once the Created are gone there will be nothing to control them.”

  Mike raised an eyebrow. “I knew about the chalice from what you were saying before, but Vlad? Really? You’re ta
lking Dracula, right? I mean …”

  “Mike you know better than anyone that folk-tales, legends and myths all start with a grain of truth. Vlad the Impaler, AKA Vlad Dracula, was the most powerful vampire to walk this earth, more powerful even than the First One. If the legends are true and his body still lies waiting for the Waking Ritual and the chalice is found – which is pretty much a foregone conclusion now – he will lead the Born into another bloody war which will only end when all the Created are destroyed.” He looked around. “Where is Mihai?”

  Lane came over to him. “He said he needed to reach out to any of the Council that could hear him, we need as much help as we can get. I believe he is also trying to reach Jean-Baptiste Vincent. He is bitter that he missed him in New Orleans, that his maker is ignoring his pleas for help against everything that he taught him – that the maker has to teach his infant, watch over him as he finds his way in our world, counsel him and come to his assistance when asked – just like a human parent.” Her face was paler than usual.

  “How are you holding up?” Beckett asked her quietly.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be OK. I’m up to it, if that’s what you mean. I know I look like shit, and not yet back to full capacity, but I won’t let you down, Handsome.”

  Despite their situation, Beckett smiled at her; a warm smile that said everything. “You never look like shit, Legs. Not to me.”

  There was a tense moment when nothing else mattered to Beckett except her feelings. Had they changed since the Long Sleep? Before that everything had seemed possible between them, now ….

  The moment seemed to last a life-time – a vampire life-time – as she read him, and then without another word she pulled him to her and kissed him full on the mouth. “Does that answer your question?”

  He grinned. “I guess so.”

  “Good, make it last until this crap is over.”

  He sobered at the thought of the upcoming battle for their lives and the lives of all the Created. It would all hang on what took place in the coming hours – a short, intense fight with Vasile and his followers, or, if they lost, a long and bloody war amongst the entire vampire world. But then the knowledge of her feelings for him buoyed him up and he was ready to take on Vlad himself.