Bloodlines Part 1

by Drew D'Amato

“Thank you.”

  “Vlad?”

  No response came from the other side of the booth.

  “Vlad,” Pacami continued.

  Never would he do this but this confession was one of a kind. Pacami got up from his seat and walked out of his personal booth. He grabbed the curtain of the next booth, paying no attention to what this might seem like to the other people in line, and swung it open. Nothing there. He looked at a middle-aged blonde woman, first in a line of three for their turn at confession.

  “Did you see where he went?” Pacami asked.

  Her face froze up, not sure of what she just heard.

  “The guy in the booth, the guy who just walked out?” Pacami continued to ask her.

  Her facial expression was stuck in a mixture between confusion and disappointment. She was not confident in the sanity of the clergy in her church right then. However, she answered her priest’s question.

  “Nobody came out of that booth.”

  NINE

  1

  The dining room of Vlad’s mansion had a smell of fish to it. Vlad enjoyed his Saturday night dinner of lobster and calamari, prepared by Michael. Michael and Jericho were at the table eating with him. Michael to Vlad’s left, Jericho to his right. Three of the exact same crystal glasses sat in front of each of them. Jericho’s favorite red wine filled all the glasses and it captured the light of the dimly lit room, a Shiraz from Australia. Jericho joked that since he was Irish, this wine came from his people.

  Vampires can eat regular meals. The food served no nutritional value, they just ate for the taste of it. They sat quietly all with the same thought on their mind: Was Radu still alive? All had been quiet for the past week, no one anywhere had seen any Raduson. Vlad cracked open one of his lobster’s claws with his hands. He dipped the meat in butter, and stuffed in down his throat with his hands. He was from medieval times and still liked to eat with his hands, no matter what the course.

  Vampires didn’t need just blood all the time. If they barely use their powers, they could go with just one victim every few days. If they used more of their powers—for instance, if there was a major battle—then they would need one victim just to replenish their blood supply. They could store their blood like the way a camel stores water. Vlad and his men had not hungered for blood too much lately—all has been quiet. And the calmness has been disturbing.

  “Still nothing?” Vlad asked the two of them.

  “Malachi’s men are returning from Europe tomorrow morning. They didn’t see anything,” Michael replied. “There is a good chance he is dead.”

  “Jericho, how do you feel about this?”

  “There’s a very good chance that he is dead, but he could also be planning something really big. I’m not comfortable yet. Maybe I will in time if nothing happens.”

  Vlad heard the two extremes. No sign of him anywhere, yet could he have really died that easily? Radu did not even make an attempt to get out of the limo. In the hundreds of years of fighting, this was how the war would end? Vlad could not believe it. He still sensed his presence somewhere out in the world.

  “Well, what should we do?” Vlad asked.

  “Nothing. Wait for something to happen, which I don’t think will,” Michael said, set in his belief that Radu was dead.

  “We have men looking everywhere. No one has found anything. I say we go to his mansion and find out once and for all if he is dead,” Jericho recommended.

  “Malachi’s men went to Radu’s house.”

  “But they just scoped it from the outside. If Radu is playing possum, it won’t matter much. I say we go there, and go inside his house. Either he won’t be there, or he is; and if he is, we’ll battle it out until it’s over.”

  “We will become human once we enter his house uninvited. Humans fighting vampires does not sound like good odds,” Michael countered.

  “Sleeping vampires, I remind you,” said Jericho. “We can do this during the day. We have toyed around with this idea before. I say we act on it. There is a good chance that he is dead too, so we have nothing to risk, but at least we can all then feel at peace.”

  “Our forces are seriously depleted. We could lose all that is left on an action like that.”

  “What do we have to worry about Michael, if Radu is in fact dead?”

  Michael found himself at a loss for words. Jericho continued.

  “If we get Malachi and all of his men too, we would have more than enough to pull this off.” Jericho turned from Michael and looked at Vlad.

  “Malachi is a good warrior and so are his men,” Vlad said. “This plan might work, but let’s not rush into it. Let’s give my brother a few more days to make his presence felt. He can’t stay quiet for too long. No need to risk everything just because we are a little impatient.”

  “What if he is really dead though, what are we going to do?” Michael said.

  Vlad and Jericho exchanged a look.

  “What do you mean what we are gong to do?” Vlad asked. “Are you expecting a change?”

  “Well yes, kind of. We have no one to fear now. We might as well do what we want to do in this world.”

  “Like what?”

  “Do you want to live in the shadows forever? I say we let the humans know about us.”

  Vlad’s fork dropped from his hand onto his dish. Crack, as the heavy platinum fork cracked the blue China plate. “What do you mean, let them know about us?”

  “We can become some form of police. Feast on the criminals like we do now but they’ll know about us. It might keep better order in the world if criminals also had to fear us. We could be some type of superheroes.”

  “It will also let the humans become aware of us and our weaknesses and then we will have another threat to deal with. Or they will try to become one of us. Vampires are like the mafia, people who have no idea about the true dark side of this life, think it is a cool thing to live like this. These humans are fools, hungry for power and to be ‘cool’. No, the world is better off not knowing about us. Things will stay the way they are.”

  Michael put his head down, upset over his master not liking his new idea but he did not say anything more. He continued to eat his meal.

  “What we do have to do is something about the Crusaders,” Jericho said trying to bridge the tension between the two. “We are not out of the woods, until they are stopped.”

  “Good point Jericho, but we have to wait to hear from the source. Until then I have another job for you guys.”

  “What, master?” Jericho asked.

  “Father Pacami, an old Italian Priest. He works at The Divine Saviour on Cypress Avenue in Los Angeles. I want you to pick him up and bring him to me tomorrow, after mass. There is only one mass in English at this church, and I am sure he will be presiding over it. It is the 10:00 mass tomorrow morning.”

  “A priest, why?” Michael asked.

  “I have something I have to talk to him about.”

  “About what?” Michael asked.

  “It doesn’t concern you, it’s something personal.”

  “When you’re talking about bringing a priest to our house, it does concern us. This is crazy,” Michael said.

  Jericho felt the same way Michael did. This idea was crazy. However, after three hundred years, he had learned to trust his master.

  “Won’t they miss him at church right after mass?” Jericho asked.

  “I am not concerned with that, just do me this favor, and tomorrow I will talk to Malachi.”

  “Master, do you think it is wise to bring a Catholic Priest to the home of a vampire?” Jericho asked. He trusted his master, but he was truly against this idea. Maybe Vlad did not look at this idea too clearly.

  “Men trust me, our secret is already safe with this man. It will not be a problem for him, we have already met. I saved his life. Besides, Michael wants us to now be known to the world. We might as well start with the church, right?”

  “Whatever you ask,” Michael said with no emotion.
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  TEN

  1

  Father Pacami had a good Sunday service. The parishioners seemed to enjoy his sermon on the loyalty of marriage. Sometimes the confessions he heard that one Saturday a month inspired his sermons for a few weeks as long as they loosely followed the excerpt read from the Gospel beforehand. Today’s Gospel reading was from Mark, chapter 10, which dealt with adultery and marriage. While Pacami spoke he scanned the crowd, but then realized he had no idea what that woman who had the affair looked like. There was only one person in the confessional yesterday who he would recognize. But he would not expect to see Vlad attending church, but then again he had no idea at all what to expect from Vlad. He wasn’t a character in his head, but then what else could he be?

  After the mass Pacami stood outside of his church wishing all of his followers a good day and waving to them as they left the church. It was a sunny, breezy, autumn day and amongst the din of the faithful leaving, birds could be heard off in the distance. The followers consisted of the ages of mostly the retired and young children. People just starting to learn about the religion, and those brushing up before their final exam.

  An elderly couple, the woman in a pink and white Sunday dress and the man wearing an old cheap suit approached the Father. They complimented him on his sermon against adultery and how happy their marriage was. He shook both their hands and they promised to see him again next week. He was their favorite priest. Pacami and his friend Father Horeb Montes, a Mexican, were in competition for the favorite priest of the church. They didn’t care who won, they loved their job. Montes was a Mexican, and the church itself was mostly a Spanish-speaking church. Only the 10:00 Sunday morning mass, and the 5:30 virgil mass on Saturday night, were the ones that were spoken in English, and Pacami almost always presided over them.

  A black stretch limo pulled down the street in front of the church. The crowd exiting the church noticed the limo and thought maybe some celebrity decided to actually thank God today. The black tinted back window of the limo rolled down. Jericho stuck his head out of the window, with blue tinted sunglasses on over his smooth face. He looked at the two priests on the steps.

  “Which one of you is Father Pacami?” Jericho asked from inside the limo, but by the darker complexion of the other priest, he was pretty sure which one Pacami was.

  Pacami’s smile turned into a small frown of confusion.

  “I am,” Pacami said as he moved toward the window. He didn’t get too close, some natural defense mechanism in him told him not to. But he got close enough so that Father Montes could not hear this conversation.

  “My name is Jericho. We have a mutual friend. I’m sure you know who I am talking about.”

  “Vlad?”

  “Yes, Vlad, my master. He has asked me to retrieve you this morning and bring you to our house.”

  Pacami knew he couldn’t be imagining this. The other people of the church saw this limo. These creatures were tangible. Fear started to build in him from the ankles up, like squeezing the end of a toothpaste tube from the end to the top.

  “But today is Sunday,” he said as a form of excuse.

  “I know. He wants to keep holy the Sabbath. He would like a personal service with you.”

  “I have people to see today. I cannot make it.”

  “Father, you have seen the power of us, please do not upset Vlad or me. Get in the car and take a ride. You will be back soon enough to do your praying.”

  “What is this about?”

  “Well you’re going to have to take the ride to find out. Now the smell of this place is making me nauseous, please get in here now.”

  Pacami took a breath. He thought about all the parishioners exiting the church. He was their shepherd, and they were his sheep. He had to protect them, and by protecting them he did not want to create a scene right here. Reluctantly, he started to move his arm to the door handle.

  “Hold on,” Pacami said.

  Pacami walked away from the limo and went to Father Montes.

  “Father Montes, one of my people needs me right now. He is sick in bed, and I have to go over to his house. That limo is here to pick me up.”

  “Well he looks kind of well off, see if you can get a donation,” Montes said with half a laugh. “Maybe that was inappropriate, but if you must, by all means go.”

  Montes was the head priest of the Church since a good portion of the parishioners didn’t even understand English, and Pacami had to answer to him. In Montes’ mind this fact also helped Montes not question why this bedridden believer asked for Pacami and not himself. He was probably Italian or Irish, or a mix of both.

  “My prayers are with him,” Montes said as Pacami started to turn away.

  “Thank you,” Pacami replied back over his shoulder. Your prayers should be with me. Pacami got into the limo.

  “I got nervous,” Jericho said. “I thought you were going to run away or start some trouble; good choice Father. Don’t do anything stupid and no harm will come to you.”

  Father Pacami rode away with them; prepared to not do anything stupid, and not feeling the least bit safe.

  2

  Pacami sat in the back seat and Jericho was in the middle one, with his back against the driver. Jericho stared at Pacami, thinking to himself. What the hell does Vlad want with this man? Jericho pressed the button for the window between the driver and the back seat. Michael sat behind the wheel driving.

  “Father this is Michael, a friend,” Jericho said with his hand directed at Michael.

  “Hi, Michael,” Pacami said trying to not sound scared.

  “So you came in the limo without force? I lost a bet,” Michael said.

  “Will you bring me back soon?” Pacami asked.

  “Whenever the master wants to,” Jericho said. “Now, you did come in here pretty easily. I can see why my master has faith in you. For what, I do not know.”

  “Why do you call him master?”

  “He’ll tell you everything,” Jericho said, smiling.

  “Aside from fear over what you might do to the people of my church, curiosity was another reason that brought me along with you.”

  “Well there are a few things you won’t have answered. Now can you put this over your eyes?”

  Jericho handed Pacami a black bandana. Pacami took it in his hand and started to get a little scared.

  “Don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to you. I will not tie up your hands or anything like that. You are not a prisoner. We just don’t want you to see how to get to our house. I think you will be able to put it on yourself.”

  Pacami slowly put the bandana over his eyes and tied it behind his head.

  “Good, another big leap of faith. We respect that, trust us and we won’t steer you wrong.”

  “I am a little scared though,” he said under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

  “That’s natural. Today you will find out the truth about one of the biggest secrets in the world.”

  “Which is?”

  “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  3

  Michael held Pacami’s hand since his eyes were still blindfolded as he was led through the house. Pacami knew he entered an elevator by feeling the floor move, but did not think he was in a residential home. He thought he was in some kind of commercial building. They walked into Vlad’s office and Pacami was led to his left. Michael put a hand on his shoulder and was told to sit.

  Vlad locked eyes with his men. “Leave us,” he said.

  Michael and Jericho left the office without saying a word.

  “You can take that blindfold off now,” Vlad told Pacami.

  Pacami removed it. His eyes slowly got accustomed to the light as he looked around the room filled with antiques. He stopped in fear when he locked onto Vlad, who stood behind the desk. He had on a red robe, like one worn by a Spanish inquisitor, without the hood. A black cape draped over his back.

  Vlad spoke, “I cannot begin to understand how much confus
ion you must have right now, as to who I am.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m more curious as to who you are or what you are,” Pacami said timidly.

  Vlad moved away from his desk, toward the window to his right. “Who I am, is Vlad Tepes the Third, or ‘Vlad the Impaler,’ Prince to the throne of Wallachia. I am better known as Dracula.”

  Pacami’s mouth opened a bit. Part of him kind of expected it, but it still wasn’t anything easy to swallow. He thought he might be a vampire, but the actual Dracula? He knew some of the background to the myth of Dracula.

  “Don’t worry, you have nothing to fear Father, I will not harm you. Today though, I do not want to spend too much time on who I am but what I am. A vampire.”

  “I thought sunlight killed vampires.”

  “No, not me. In sunlight I just cannot use my powers. Powers like mind control, flying, and transformation.”

  “Transformation?”

  Vlad pulled down the blinds to the windows in his office. Then he put his cape over his head. Bats flew out from the cape and the cape dropped to the floor. The bats flew around the office, and Pacami turned his head around not knowing which bat to look at. The bats formed in a group behind Pacami. Pacami witnessed the bats fuse together for a split second and the group changed back into Vlad.

  “Transformation,” Vlad said with a smile.

  “I noticed your clothes also reappeared when you transformed back,” Pacami said.

  “Yes, whatever we carry on our person—clothes, wallets, guns—transform into the animal with us, and then are present when we transform back to our human form. Don’t ask me how…these powers defy science.