Crimson Kiss

by Trisha Baker

  Charles stared at her. "Meghann, this goes no further than the two of us—you know that. Now, don't tell me what you should feel—tell me what you do feel."

  "I wish to God I knew. At first, I thought I could help him. He'd had his life destroyed, his son slain by a vampire. So I thought, I'll make him want to live again. He'll learn from me how to defend himself. And after enough time passes, he'll heal. He'll want a normal life again… maybe remarry. But I didn't count on how close we'd become. Now I don't want him to leave me… but what can I do? Do you know he asked me to transform him?"

  "What?"

  "That was my reaction. How can this man, who saw what vampires are capable of, possibly want that life? How can he watch me arise night after night, never seeing the sun, and think it's a good thing? To which he replied, that makes no difference—we're in love. So what happens if Jimmy and I end up like you and Paul? Will he still want to be stuck with immortality if we break up? Tell me, Charles. Did you ever regret being a vampire when you knew you and Paul would not stay together?"

  It was Charles's turn to sigh. "I was frightened by the thought of being alone for the rest of my life. I know what you're saying—Jimmy wants to be a vampire because he wants to be with you. Would he still want it if you two separated? Would he be able to handle the constant temptation on his own? And then there's the other matter."

  Meghann nodded. She and Charles had discussed this before. "Should I transform anyone knowing I'll pass Simon Baldevar's blood to them? How much of my tendencies are inherited from him, like a disease?" She told Charles briefly about what had happened earlier that evening at the hospital.

  "That isn't like you, Meghann. That's what intrigues me about the bloodline. Simon, yes, he would enjoy something like that greatly. But that is foreign to your personality and inclinations. Would you fight the same demons if Alcuin or I had transformed you? Perhaps it is an inherited trait. If Alcuin could inherit his master's deformities, why couldn't Simon's depraved tendencies be passed along to you?"

  "And then passed along to Jimmy," Meghann said thoughtfully. "So even if I thought Jimmy should become a vampire, which I don't, I'd want someone else to give him blood." She eyed Charles meaningfully before turning onto the Belt Parkway, where traffic was moving at a quicker pace.

  He shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. "I would have to have a long talk with Jimmy before I would even consider—Jesus Christ!" A Jaguar abruptly cut in front of them. Meghann had to slam down on the brake, and if there had been any cars right behind her, they would have crashed.

  "What an asshole," she gasped, nearly going through the window. "You OK?" Charles nodded.

  The Jaguar was a few cars ahead in the left lane. Meghann checked to see if any cars were blocking the right lane, then she cut in and maneuvered around the cars in front of her in the center lane.

  "Meghann, what are you doing?"

  "What do you think? I'm gonna ask that creep if he got his license out of the Cracker Jack box." The Caddie easily caught up with the Jaguar, and Meghann screeched, "You fucking dimwit! You could have killed us…"

  The words choked off when she found herself staring into a pair of amber eyes that had haunted her dreams for fifty years. Simon Baldevar—sitting in the passenger seat, staring right at her—nearly able to reach out and touch her. Dimly Meghann had an impression of a woman driving the car, but her entire attention was taken by his evil eyes radiating fury and cold hate.

  Then she became aware that the road was far too quiet. She took her eyes off Simon long enough to register that every car on either side of the road was still, all passengers sitting in utter silence. My God, he's stopped the fucking traffic on the Belt Parkway!

  A minor parlor trick, the invasive voice that she'd never forgotten told her. Her attention was drawn back to Simon. He stretched his hand out and ran one finger over her jaw. There's such terror in your gaze, little one. It makes me want to throw you to the ground and ravish you. Who knows ? Perhaps I shall—before I make you beg for death. She felt something land in her lap.

  A honking horn brought her back to her senses. Meghann looked around—the spell was broken; traffic was up and moving again. The whole encounter could not have lasted more than ten seconds. Dimly she heard humans in all the surrounding cars muttering angrily about the sudden traffic jam. Why was there such a slowdown when there was no accident?

  She looked around for the Jaguar—it was long gone. While she waited for the traffic to thin, she repeated to herself, like a mantra, I will drive this car and not think about anything until I get home; I will drive this car and not think about anything until I get home…

  She and Charles drove to Rockaway in silence, both shaken by the encounter. When she reached the house, she cut the engine, and started shaking. Her teeth were even clattering. A glance at Charles told her he was no better—she had never seen him that white.

  When she could speak again, she said, "He wanted to scare us."

  "Yes."

  "Let us know we can't go anywhere or do anything without him watching."

  Charles nodded and got out of the car.

  Meghann was about to get out when she noticed a flat jeweler's box—it must have been the thing she felt land in the car. She shuddered, and picked it up. Then she got out of the car and handed it to Charles. "Please open it—I can't."

  Charles didn't want to open it either, but he did. He gave out a high-pitched cry.

  Meghann flew to his side and picked up the box he'd flung to the ground. In the center was a severed index finger with a plain gold ring.

  She looked down at Charles, weeping like she'd never seen him cry before. She put her arms around him and he clung to her in a bone-crushing grip. His keening had attracted Alcuin and Jimmy, who came running out the front door. Meghann held up her hand to ask them to stay back.

  "Mark!" Charles finally sobbed out.

  Meghann understood. "Charles, I'm so sorry." Mark was a mortal Charles had dated off and on for almost ten years.

  Jimmy misunderstood the ring. "You guys were married or something?"

  Even through his tears, Charles looked embarrassed. "He was married… to a woman. We had an understanding."

  Charles slammed his fist into the cement sidewalk, making a sizable hole. "I'm so stupid! How could it not occur to me that Simon would kill him?"

  Alcuin came over. "This is not your fault."

  "It is!" Charles yelled. "I could have warned him… protected him. But I never thought… It never occurred to me that he knew about Mark. I thought he would just focus on Meghann's life."

  Alcuin sighed and pulled his apprentice up from the sidewalk. "You have only known Simon is alive for two nights." He touched the finger. "Your lover has been dead for at least two weeks."

  Charles looked up. "He was going to a conference in Jerusalem. A sudden invitation came a few weeks ago… Damn him! Damn! How long has he been planning his revenge?"

  "Since Meghann left him on that rooftop."

  "I want that bastard to die!" Charles screamed. "Why don't we just find out where he rests and kill him?"

  "Do you think it will be that easy to seek him out? Jimmy has been diligently searching for him for hours… We've found nothing."

  "I can find him," Meghann spoke up.

  The two vampires turned to look at her and she said, "Let me look in the scrying dish. I can use the link of him being my master to find him."

  Alcuin eyed Meghann. "Do you think you can handle the duties of seer tonight?"

  She nodded, and headed into the house, the other three following her. For Jimmy's benefit, Charles told Alcuin out loud about their encounter with Simon.

  "Meghann was correct—it was a scare tactic, nothing more." At the front door, Charles found himself unable to enter, and nodded. "At least we're safe here."

  Alcuin stepped over the threshold, and then extended his hand to Charles.

  They found Meghann sitting on the ottoman, eating a plate of cold bac
on.

  "Hungry?" Jimmy asked her in bewilderment.

  "The Druids believed that one could acquire visions by consuming pig flesh, or the flesh of dogs and cats. Of course, they took that to mean you should grab some live animal and start munching. But times have changed…" She indicated her bacon. Max came sniffing around, and she gave him a few pieces.

  "So you're eating that for visions?"

  "Meghann is my seer," Alcuin explained. "She possesses Himbas Forosmai."

  "Huh?"

  "The gift of prophecy," Meghann explained while she ate.

  "A gift that must be used with extreme caution," Alcuin told her. "Meghann, you do remember what I taught you about the astral plane?"

  Meghann nodded, and explained for Jimmy's benefit. "The astral plane is divided into two realms. The Higher Astral—where beings you would think of as angels exist—and the Lower Astral—where one encounters demons. When we fly, we choose one of those two paths to guide our travels, or to seek out beings to help us. Needless to say, Simon spends most of his time on the Lower Astral. Certainly, when he flies, that's the path he travels."

  "So any attempt to see into his future could lead you there," Alcuin warned.

  Meghann paled. "But Charles is here… and so are you. One of you should be able to bring me back if I run into any… trouble."

  Alcuin turned to Charles. "Are you capable of putting your grief aside and serving as Meghann's priest? If you feel at all unsure, tell us now—don't risk her safety."

  "I would never put Meghann in a precarious situation. I'll meditate quietly, and find my equilibrium." He went out the back door. He needed to be on the beach for a while.

  "Why did Alcuin make you seer?" Jimmy asked Meghann curiously.

  "Fifteen years ago, I looked in his scrying bowl and I saw a vampire he trusted attempt to kill him. It turned out this man, his name was Ignatius, had been one of Simon's spawn. The boy took it upon himself to strike Alcuin in the name of his dead master." Meghann looked up thoughtfully. "Alcuin, how many vampires have known Simon Baldevar was alive all this time?"

  "My guess is very few—even within his circle. He wanted the world to believe he was dead so he could develop his strength in total isolation. Meghann, do you remember how I told you Simon fled Europe after our first encounter?"

  "Of course—and I asked you why you didn't track him down and slay him." Meghann stopped and looked up at her mentor, "And you didn't tell me the whole truth. That was the first time he vanished and then reappeared with more power decades later… right?"

  Alcuin nodded. He hadn't wanted Meghann to think Simon could be alive when he met her. He'd wanted her to develop her ability without looking over her shoulder.

  Meghann finished her pork, then dug into an exquisitely carved ivory box on the mantelpiece. She fished out the pendant Simon had given her. He had handled it recently so it would have some psychic residue from him.

  She turned to Alcuin. "I'm going downstairs to meditate. I'll be ready to start in one hour."

  Meghann stripped off her clothing and donned a plain white shift. She let her hair down and removed all her jewelry—except the signet ring. Simon had not been joking when he said she'd have to break her finger to get it off. And it simply wasn't worth it to crush her finger every time she wanted to take the ring off.

  She stretched out on the cold cement floor of the cellar and tried to center her thoughts. She found herself thinking about magic—all she'd learned from Alcuin.

  Alcuin helped her find her true potential as a vampire. When she thought of all those years with Simon, all that ability going to waste… She laughed at herself. Why would Simon teach her, mold her? The more she learned, the stronger she would become—well, that would have increased her independence, and thus the chance she might walk out on him.

  So Alcuin developed her ability. She discovered her amazing knack for clairvoyance, and what Charles had noticed when they prayed for her father—the ability to summon. That was why Alcuin allowed her, a not even century-old vampire, to lead the High Holidays as priestess. She could draw power into her and bring it to the ceremonies.

  Of course, she wasn't omnipotent. She still had little ability to travel the astral plane. Any vampire could learn to use the astral plane to fly short distances. But when you wanted to use the plane for magical purposes, you had to leave your body behind and travel with only your soul. Alcuin had taught her how, but it was not something she did easily—and she could not fly at all if she was unwell or blood starved.

  Alcuin and Charles came downstairs. There were no lights—none of the three had any need of them. Alcuin had never been here before, but Charles had worked in tins room with her previously.

  Alcuin took a stone bottle from his cloak. He poured water into a bronze bowl with fine sand on the bottom. The water came from Llyn Cerrig Bach—a lake in Britain that had been a Druidic sanctuary.

  Meghann and Charles (her priest and guide when she looked into the future) clasped hands over the bowl.

  "Fedelma," Meghann intoned, invoking a Celtic goddess of war and prophecy, "allow me to see he who gave me this." She let the pendant break the surface of the water, and then she leaned down to look into the clear surface.

  "What do you see?" Charles whispered.

  Meghann did not answer at first. Charles had to ask again—something that rarely happened. Usually he maintained a bond with her throughout.

  "The circle has been broken…" she finally whispered.

  Where was she? The bowl and the room were gone. Damn—she'd lost touch with the physical world. Now her soul was wandering aimlessly. Why wasn't Charles pulling her back?

  Calm down, she told herself. She was surrounded by total darkness. Images swirled abruptly and then disappeared into the pitch blackness. She saw a sharp-nosed woman call out, "Master." Meghann reached out and forced the image to remain with her.

  There he was—Simon Baldevar. Who was the woman? Did he sense Meghann's presence? They were bent over some crumbling, ancient parchment with arcane script on it.

  "The Language of the Birds," Meghann whispered. Suddenly, the Sight descended on her and she found herself screaming, "Don't! Don't!"

  Charles slashed his wrist—they needed to make a sacrifice to bring Meghann back. He allowed a few drops of blood to fall in the water. "Don't what, Meghann?"

  She thought she heard a whisper in the darkness, but then it was gone. Now she felt icy hands grab her. Dear God, she was trapped in the dark, terrible world of the Lower Astral. When she flew the plane with Simon, she always felt the clutching hands of daemons—now she was in their realm as an unwelcome visitor.

  Why was she here? Meghann felt the Shadow-beings. They put their dank, icy presence on her soul—invading it, desperate to possess her. She closed her eyes. I don't want to see them; I'll go crazy if I do. "Help me!" she shouted, and it only came out a hoarse whisper.

  "Come to me, child—I can guarantee safe passage from this world."

  "Simon, what have you done?" she screamed, caught in some confusing mix of the Otherworld and the future. "The circle is broken—make them go away, make them go away!" Then the evil entered her, and she was fighting for her soul.

  Charles grabbed her away from the scrying dish, and the cursed visions it was giving her. "Listen to me, Meghann! I am your priest—come back!"

  She did not hear him—she was fighting with the force of someone in the grip of a terrifying menace. "It's Azazeal, it's Azazeal—get it out of me!" Unseeing, unhearing, she broke Charles's hold and he was flung across the room.

  Alcuin came forward. He needed all his strength to pin Meghann to the ground. Yanking the simple wooden cross from his neck, he pressed it to her forehead. He had worn it since he was mortal—it was the only thing in the room with enough power to banish the evil inside his apprentice. She thrashed and screamed, trying desperately to leave the hell she was trapped in.

  Alcuin looked up from his struggles with Meghann. "You are her priest
—bring her back," he ordered Charles.

  Charles placed his hands over his master's and pressed the cross down on her forehead, making a harsh imprint on her pallid skin. "Listen to me, Meghann. You can fight this awful thing. Listen to my voice, and feel the cross. Let it help you come back." He felt Meghann start to relax slightly, and he started praying over her, along with Alcuin.

  It was nearly dawn when Meghann finally returned to them. She glanced around the room in shock. With the last touch of Sight, she told Alcuin tiredly, "He'll set them free to keep me."

  "Who will he set free?"

  The spell was broken—Meghann could hardly remember anything of that strange, evil place except the utter terror when the icy, grasping fingers touched her. "I don't know." She tried to stand, but her legs were weak.

  "We were fortunate to bring you back," Alcuin told her. "I was worried you might only respond to Simon."

  Instantly she was on her feet—disbelief and hurt plain on her face. "How dare you say that to me! Have those others poisoned your mind—made you think I am his whore? I'll never respond to him."

  "No, Meghann—I did not want to hurt you with this knowledge, but now you must know. What do you remember of your transformation?"

  "The pain."

  Alcuin held her eyes, hypnotizing her slightly. "I am here, banrion. The pain cannot touch you."

  "No," she responded in a haze. "You cannot hold back the pain—only my master can." The trance broke when she said those words, and she looked at Alcuin in complete anguish. "No, I can't still think of him as my master—no!"

  "Meghann, my first lesson to you was that you must always be honest. Simon transformed you—and he used your suffering to create an unbreakable bond between you. His is the voice you will always hear—be aware of that. What took us hours tonight would have taken him minutes to do. There will always be a link between you."

  "What does that mean—that I'm powerless to resist his commands? That I'm his zombie?"

  Alcuin was uncomfortable. He took her hands in his. "Meghann, for forty years you have been my pride and joy—the daughter I never had, a woman with dazzling gifts. But you are, for a vampire, very young. And Simon… No novice vampire, especially one with a blood link to him, can hope to handle him. I do not believe he could turn you into a zombie, but I do think you would have a very difficult time resisting him. I don't want to see you in a position where you have to resist him."