by Trisha Baker
"No," Simon replied and Meghann felt her anxiety lessen at this evidence Mikal wasn't completely invincible. "During the day, his strength is hardly more than that of a fit mortal boy his age."
"What about his occult powers?"
"He has few to begin with," Simon said and explained further at Meghann's surprised look. "Mikal is in some ways like Elizabeth ... a puzzling mix of vampire and mortal characteristics. But whereas Elizabeth is mortal dominant with some vampiric features, Mikal is the opposite. He has a vampire's superior physical strength; his telekinetic talent is quite impressive. And certainly Mikal can mold mortals to his will. His best advantage over other immortals is that he can conceal his own thoughts completely, just as Elizabeth does. But other than that, Mikal has no vampiric abilities. He cannot summon, nor perform the simplest sorcery ... he cannot even travel the astral plane."
"Even in his soul?" Meghann asked disbelievingly for Ellie was able to meditate and then separate her soul from her body to wander the astral plane. Meghann had taught Ellie that trick when her daughter began to menstruate and could not tolerate the severe cramping. With her soul free of the chains of her pain-wracked body, Ellie felt no pain and stayed out of her body for hours at a time.
"Sometimes I wonder if our son has a soul," Simon said cryptically. "I told you the boy ran away a year ago?" At Meghann's nod, she saw Simon's jaw clench and pain darken his golden eyes before he continued. "It is because Mikal fears for his life should I catch up with him. He ran, like the coward he is under all his bullying and pathetic posturing, after I discovered Adelaide's corpse."
"Adelaide!" Meghann felt quick tears sting her eyelids, not from her own grief but at the thought of what Simon must have gone through when he discovered the woman who'd been like a mother to him for nearly five centuries had been murdered by his own son.
Knowing no words of hers would mitigate Simon's grief, Meghann embraced him, bringing her lips to his in a slow, careful caress. This was how she and Simon communicated best; it was her touch that might bring him some peace.
Simon's response was immediate: grasping her tightly and kissing her with a sweeping thoroughness that left her dizzy and breathless. It seemed Simon wanted to lake everything within her, take over her
soul completely, and Meghann willingly gave herself
to him, thinking Alcuin was right—Simon did need her. By letting Simon take her with fast, driving hunger, drink the blood he'd infused her with so long ago, Meghann was telling him she'd shoulder some of this unspeakable burden they faced—destroying their son to keep everyone else they loved safe.
For a long while, they held each other silently, the only sounds in the cabin coming from the bedroom where Lee moaned and thrashed in his delirium. Then Simon's grip eased and he tilted Meghann's chin up. 'There isn't much time left, little one. I need to tell you all you must know of our son before we land."
One Year Earlier
His ryes tightly shut, Simon used his mind to see the intruder in his room, the cold, steel glint of the would-be killer's sword glittering with obscene In brightness in the darkened bedchamber.
For the first time, Simon appreciated the quarters he'd chosen in this dank pile of stone. The castle had been constructed during the early Middle Ages, when such monuments were meant for defense first and beauty second, if at all. There were no windows in the
grim, stone chamber Simon appropriated for his day-
time rest—that meant his assassin could not simply throw open draperies or shutters to destroy the vampire he mistakenly thought was sleeping.
Simon gave no indication he was awake, keeping still as he heard the whispery sound of the silken curtains surrounding his bed being pushed back. It was only when his sword came whooshing down to separate Simon's head from his torso that Simon's hand lashed up and he grabbed the sword, easily disarming his stunned son.
"Shall I say good morning or good afternoon, Mikal?" Simon inquired casually of the young boy who stared at him with an uneasy mix of simmering resentment and cautious apprehension. This confrontation was a long time in coming, Simon knew. He'd felt Mikal's resentment of him, of his power building daily but Simon had held back, not striking Mikal until the boy came after him. "I know you are not foolish enough to try and slay me in the evening hours, are you?"
"I do not worry, Father," the thing that dared to call itself his blood replied with equal calmness. 'The sun is at its zenith . . . soon you shall tire and then I will dispose of you."
In response, Simon smashed the sword hilt against Mikal's nose. Screaming from the pain, for Mikal's body had no restorative powers during the day, the boy clutched his bleeding nose, hissing and screaming when his father grabbed him and forced him facedown into the bed.
"If my blood teeth functioned during the day, I could feed now and end your sorry existence," Simon whispered, fighting the weariness that attempted to overtake him. Mikal was right—Simon had but a few moments to disable him. "But I shall have to content myself with merely breaking the snake's back."
Simon took the sword and drove it through the small of Mikal's back, slicing neatly through the boy's left kidney. He would not decapitate Mikal for that would mean giving up forever on his chance to experience daylight.
Flopping down next to the squirming, agonized boy. Simon managed to whisper in Mikal's ear, "By the time you get that sword out and your body recovers, it will be sunset and I shall finally correct the mistake of your birth, young fool."
In a way. Simon was thankful for the vampiric slumber that descended upon him. There would be no restless tossing and turning, no tense apprehension as he waited for dusk. Instead, Simon fell into a deep, unclouded rest, waking up refreshed and ready to do battle.
As he described it later to Meghann, the battle was every bit as ferocious and vicious as Simon expected it to be. He awoke and Mikal recovered at very nearly the same moment and they attacked each other, each grasping for possession of the sword that would decapitate the other vampire.
Simon spoke honestly and without bias of Mikal's awe inspiring physical strength. The boy had, beneath his deceivingly fragile appearance of a gaunt body and underdeveloped muscles, the power of ten vampires and a psychotic rage empowering him as he pummeled and kicked, determined to best his father.
Not that Simon was any weakling, easily he sidestepped every killing blow with an agility borne from centuries of practice but he could not seem to strike any offensive thrusts to force Mikal off him and grab the sword. Soon Simon realized that he was expending himself on a futile cause. Physical might would not aid him, so Simon turned to his most formidable weapon—the daemons he'd spent centuries paying homage to so they might assist in just such a predicament as this.
"Ahriman, "Simon thundered and felt Mikal's grip on his neck tighten, making a pathetic attempt to try and strangle his father before he finished the incantation that would destroy Mikal.
°Dies mies yes-chet bene done fet Donmina Metemauz, 1 Simon whispered and thought he finally saw terror in his son's inhuman silver eyes. "I order all ye that are bound to do my bidding to appear hither and without delay. Come forth, all ye that abide in Darkness and hold in your unnatural thrall this wretched boy that attempts to do evil against his sire. Come to me at once and do as I command!"
The screaming wind that yanked Mikal off him to throw him against the hard stone wall and mad keening of a thousand unholy souls was even more than Simon could have hoped for. Momentarily bewildered, he watched his son scream helplessly at the invisible presence that pinned him to the wall and could not be moved no matter how Mikal howled and thrashed.
Simon took his time rising from the bed, choosing to shower and dress for the evening before he attended to Mikal. The daemons would not lose control of their prisoner, nor would they dare disobey Simon and attempt to take possession of Mikal for Simon had not given them permission to do that. They were only allowed to hold Mikal. After the boy was dead, Simon would give his infernal aides a few of his mo
rtal prisoners as tribute. The daemons could possess their already lost souls, luxuriate in the feel of a human body until the frail human form collapsed under its evil burden and died.
As Simon wrapped himself in a black silk wrapper (there was no purpose to donning a suit that might be soiled by Mikal's blood), he wondered why Adelaide had not interrupted the fight she must have heard. Even assuming she'd accept Simon's decision to put Mikal down, this silence was uncharacteristic of her.
In fact, as Simon allowed his senses to travel over the castle, the only presences he could detect were his own, Mikal's, and the mortals he'd stored downstairs. Where was Adelaide?
Worried now, Simon rushed to his former nurse's chambers and felt an unfamiliar lump form in his throat as he beheld the corpse on the bed. Mikal showed no mercy or compassion, even for one who'd
reared him so tenderly. Judging by her splayed open
legs, Mikal raped Adelaide after he staked her. Swallowing his distaste, Simon gently turned her around and scowled at the small deposit of semen dripping from her anus. It was not enough Mikal practiced this unnatural perversion on men; he had to debauch a woman who'd done her best to mother him?
With great reverence, Simon removed the wooden stake from Adelaide's heart, ignoring Mikal's insane screams reverberating through the castle. Then he cleaned her body and prepared it to lie in state, dressing Adelaide in her best red silk gown and brushing her hair so it spread across her chest as a raven and white veil. Finally, Simon placed her decapitated head as it lay at a proper angle with her body.
"Rest in peace, my good nurse," Simon whispered and tenderly kissed her cold lips. "Know that I shall avenge your death immediately."
Later, Simon would carry Adelaide's body to the solar and leave the windows open so the sun might cremate her and then he would gather up her ashes, preserving them forever. But now wasn't the time to dwell on the sadness he felt at Adelaide's untimely death—he must deal with Mikal.
Grabbing the sword from his bed, Simon advanced on his prey, the only way he would allow himself to think of Mikal now. This screeching boy was no son to him, never had been. He was only one of Simon's few failures, an abominable creature that should never have been born.
But before Simon sent Mikal into the abyss he so richly deserved, he would finally drink of the Philosophers' Stone. Grabbing a thick chunk of Mikal's lank black hair, Simon forced his head back and buried his blood teeth in the exposed vein of Mikal's forcibly arched neck.
At the first swallow of his son's blood, Simon fell back, choking and sputtering before his body forced the unwanted presence out and Simon began to vomit in great, rasping heaves.
At the sickness, Simon's concentration wavered and the daemons lost their hold over Mikal. Wasting no time, Mikal hurried at his father but Simon managed to snarl, "Attack!"in Latin and the monsters rushed at Mikal.
Simon heard his son scream "No!" and he raised himself to his knees just in time to watch Mikal take a running leap through the stone wall of the castle and fall screaming the three stories to the jagged, rocky ground below. Soon enough Mikal's body healed and he pulled himself off the ground, staring up at his father with the same cool detachment in Simon's amber gaze.
"Soon, Father," Mikal finally shouted and Simon knew Mikal acknowledged the standoff between the master vampire and his preternatural offspring. Weakened by the poison blood, Simon could not attack Mikal again and Mikal was too frightened of his father's sorcery to chance another confrontation.
"Soon indeed," Simon said, not bothering to shout, as he knew Mikal could hear his quiet but emphatic utterance.
"I was too merciful tonight," Mikal yelled with all the fury of rebellious, subdued youth as he climbed aboard a speedboat he'd beached on the isle's shore, not taking his eyes off his father for one second as he made his escape. "Next time it won't be some useless old bitch I slaughter. Before I take your life, Father, it shall be Meghann and that bitch daughter of yours I tend to"
"And that was the last time I saw Mikal," Simon concluded while Meghann dressed. "Though I have followed his foolish, bloody trail around the world."
Why did he kill the Ballnamore vampires?" Meghann asked. "Why not make allies of them to help destroy you?"
"My guess is that Mikal may have approached them only to be rebuffed. After all, Mikal stands for everything those pious fools averred—complete domination of prey, indulgence of the blood lust in any manner one desires. So Mikal did as he does with every annoyance-obliterate it."
"Why does he want to kill you?" Meghann asked,
n
wondering if Mikal's antipathy for his father stemmed from something more than unresolved childhood hostility. "Does he consider you an annoyance?
" Of the worst sort," Simon said with a brief, ironic
grin."His chief reason for desiring my death, Meghann, is that he believes I am all that stands between him and complete, unquestioned rule over the entire world."
"What?" Meghann would have laughed at such idiocy if not for the dead earnestness on Simon's face.
"Lunacy, isn't it? Only the youngest and least intelligent of us entertain such mad fantasies. I told you Mikal's aims are ill conceived. He does not consider that., one, he has limited power in the day so an assassination attempt by any mortal means would kill him
and two, there is not a government in this world dial would hesitate to destroy a vampire that attempts to rule the world."
"So Mikal thinks he'll kill you and set up some sort of coup d'etat to topple every government and reign as a vampire tyrant?"
"Precisely," Simon and Meghann saw the corners of his mouth lift in derisive amusement. "Like I said, the goal is preposterous and he has laid no real ground work to make it come true. All he does is reveal himself to some mortal misfits..."
"Has he made them vampires?" Meghann cried out, terrified of an entire army of sun-resistant vampires like Mikal.
"Did you not hear what I said about Mikal's blood sickening me?" Simon said in response. "Mikal's blood is toxic, Meghann."
"But you drank it when he was a boy—you told me you drained him when you found him with that..."
"Mikal's powers hadn't fully evolved then. Drinking his blood gave me no extra power because Mikal had no resistance to sunlight then. It was only when he was full-grown that his blood became a repellant."
"So Mikal's blood is useless to us? We can't drink it?"
"I have pondered that often and this is my conclusion: Mikal is a new species of vampire, no? I confess, I feel rather foolish not to have thought of this before but apparently to receive Mikal's gifts we would have to retransform, in a sense. Vampire blood is toxic to the system unless the recipient is first drained of all their blood. Obviously, since Mikal is not a vampire the way we are, anyone that wishes to drink of him would have to first be drained and then drink his blood . . . transformation all over again. However, given Mikal's unusual strength, I would hardly recommendapproaching him in a blood-starved state. The only way we can obtain his blood is to kill him, save his blood, and then one of us shall drain the other before we dink his blood."
"You haven't answered my original question, Simon. What's to stop Mikal from draining his 'mortal misfits' and suffusing them with his blood?
" Do you become ill when you drink from me or any
other vampire, Meghann? Of course not . . . that Mikal's bood is strong enough to poison us is proof positive it would kill a mortal outright.
" Besides." Simon continued with a wolfish grin, "I happen to know he attempted transformation with miserable results—I saw the corpses and drew a small
portion of their blood to prove conclusively Mikal's blood was the toxin in their veins that killed them. But you interrupted me ... Mikal does not attempt to recruit only mortals; he has also scouted out some of my own spawn."
"Vampires you transformed? Did they accept?"
"Why would they?" Simon said with a lift of his eyebrows. "Would you prefer the iron fist of
a mad despot over my relatively lax rule?"
Meghann considered that and decided Simon had a valid point. By and large, Simon Baldevar did deal fairly with his fledglings. His requirements for transformation were simple and non-negotiable ... he demanded one hundred percent of their mortal wealth and any attempt to cheat him was dealt with in harshest manner. In exchange, Simon offered his incomparable skill at transformation and a brief training period before sending the new immortals out into the world—Meghann was the only vampire Simon chose to keep by his side.
245
"So all your fledglings rejected Mikal's offer? Did he kill them out of spite?"
'Those he could find," Simon shrugged. "Most of them have lived for centuries and were able to avoid Mikal. Of course, one or two were mad enough to join my son but I shall attend to them once this sordid business with Mikal is finished."
Meghann nodded, resisting the urge to shudder when she thought of how Simon would "attend" to those vampires that betrayed him to join Mikal. "Why didn't you come to me earlier „. . when Mikal first killed Adelaide? Maybe we could have saved Charles."
"I hoped to deal with Mikal myself and spare you," Simon said simply and Meghann nodded, knowing Simon had tried to protect her from what their son was. It was pointless to point her finger and blame- Simon for Mikal's flaws. She knew pragmatic Simon Baldevar would never have instilled Mikal with this fevered mania to take over the world. That was the usual grandiose, idiotic aim of a psychopath—complete control over their environment, sublimating everyone around them to their whims.
"Did you tell Mikal anything about us?"
"Very little," Simon replied. "I imagine he learned of your whereabouts when he went to Ballnamore. No doubt he tortured the information from one of those fools and then made his first victim Charles Tarleton to taunt me twice—once to say he could slay those I've given my protection to and once to attack on the periphery of my heart, his victims gradually becoming those closest to me."
