Well, he never was as wasted as my mother. I figured it might be worth the shot. I pushed away from the hood and walked around the coupe, opened up the passenger door. “I’ll call him soon as we get back and arrange a lunch date,” I decided. I gave Lydia an arch look as I slid into the bucket seat. “Do I even need to ask whether you want to come along?”
She cackled and gunned the engine. Dust spewed from under the tires. “Just be sure to make those lunch reservations someplace that serves a good vodka Collins,” she told me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It’s not just every day that a daughter goes to her father to ask him about her vampire ancestors, but this was exactly the question I took to my father three days after Lydia and I visited my mother. Before that, however, an odd little package arrived for me at my office, delivered there by a courier who had no return address for it. Just a PO box in upstate California.
I unwrapped the package and removed a single item: a small, silver, rectangular pendant attached to a silver chain. Carved into the pendant were strange symbols and words that made no sense to me. I turned it this way and that, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Then, unable to make sense of it, I laid the pendant down on my desk. I took out the note that accompanied it and unfolded that.
My eyebrows hurtled up my forehead. I’d thought I was done with shocks and surprises for a little while at least. But no. The note—and I assumed then the gift too—was from Samson. Voshki’s traitorous driver, vanquished to who knew where and what fate.
The note began:
Dear Dante, I know you probably don’t much like me right now, and part of that is because you don’t know everything.
Well, he could say that again without fear of contradiction. I was already pretty sure I didn’t know even half of everything. Curiosity made me continue to read Samson’s note.
Please believe me, Dante, when I say I’m real sorry for what happened. It wasn’t meant to be like that. I mean, I didn’t want it to happen that way. There were reasons for it…but I can’t tell you those yet. I hope someday I will be able to explain my actions to you.
Another vampire who couldn’t or wouldn’t explain themselves. Gee. There was a shocker. My patience was thinning with Samson, but I figured since I’d started I may as well finish reading.
For now, just know that I’m sorry. Voshki is our leader and I am loyal to her. I want you to know that anything I did, I did it for Voshki. You also should know that I’ll always be here if you need me. Just ask Ollie to contact me, he knows where to find me. In the meantime, I’d like for you to accept the enclosed gift. It’s made from pure silver and has been blessed by the Shamans of Light. It will protect you against the Children of Judas’s glamouring and mind reading abilities, and maybe it’ll do some other stuff too. It works differently with different people. Sorry, but I don’t know the specifics of what it can do for you. Once again, I’m sorry for what I did, Dante, and I hope you can forgive me. Yours, Samson.
I put the note down on my desk alongside the pendant and breathed in and out deeply a few times. I didn’t quite know what to think. Ollie knew where to find Samson? I had imagined Samson was dead. I hadn’t wanted to think about his fate, nor allowed myself to think about it, but in my heart I’d imagined he was dead. Why would Voshki allow a traitor to live?
Except Samson’s words didn’t sound like those of a traitor. My gut lurched with the impact of this thought. I stared at the note and the pendant, my eyes flicking rapidly between the two. What in hell did it all mean?
I folded the note, tucked the strange gift back into its box and stuffed both in a drawer of my desk. Right now, I couldn’t think clearly about this. Ellis’s gifts of silver rings and pendants hadn’t worked very well against Robin Shepherd, so I had no tangible reason to think anything Samson could come up with might fare better. The whole “Shamans of Light” matter I filed for consideration at a later time. I had more pressing concerns today. Meeting my father and asking him about our vampire lineage being top of that list.
Lydia and I met with my father at midday, at a small, out of the way, family-run restaurant in West Hollywood where he liked to lunch. My father rarely had joined in the Hollywood lifestyle with anything but reluctance.
“Hey,” he said when I arrived. He stood up from the table to give me an awkward hug and then air-kissed a couple times with Lydia. “How are you gals?”
“I’m good, Dad,” I told him. I felt as awkward as he looked. My family is not close.
My father waited until we were seated and then resumed his own seat. Two empty beer bottles sat in front of him. He must’ve been really nervous, I thought. My father rarely drinks alcohol. “So, uh, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.
Despite their differences, my parents had few secrets from one another during their marriage. Maybe it was this lack of secrecy that led to their ultimate parting of the ways, who knows? A little mystery might’ve gone a long way. There was a decent possibility my father would have heard and recalled things about her Great-great grandma Alice forgotten by my mother.
I smiled. “What? I can’t just want to have lunch with my old Dad?”
He eyed me as he sipped a fresh beer. “When was the last time we had lunch and I didn’t need to spend three weeks having my people call your people in an attempt just to set it up?”
Okay, he had a point. I’m not exactly Daughter of The Year either. I waited until we had ordered lunch before bringing up my reason for being here. I ordered club sandwiches and my father asked for the same. Lydia politely declined to partake in food since she was only here for the vodka Collinses.
“What do you know about Mom’s vampire ancestor?” I asked.
My father frowned. “Robert Shepherd,” he said.
I blinked. I hadn’t expected him to be so direct. I looked at Lydia. She gave me a quick eyebrow shrug. “Shepherd?” I echoed and Dad nodded. He seemed oblivious to the fact I was staring and breathing hard. Shepherd. It had to be a coincidence.
“Yeah, that was definitely his name. I know he didn’t just use your Great-great-grandma Alice, he actually had quite a thing for her. She refused his offer of, um, anything permanent.”
I raised an eyebrow. Dad nodded. “Way I heard it, he would’ve kept her with him as his, um, human, except Alice wanted no part of that. Vampires are possessive and Alice was a bit of a free spirit.”
I knew all about that. “Mom says he was a redhead,” I said hesitantly.
My father bobbed his head once more, and in that single gesture he shattered forever any illusions I might have succeeded in clinging to that I wasn’t related to Robin Shepherd. I gripped my fork in one hand as I listened to him describe what he knew about Robert Shepherd.
Robert Shepherd was a businessman, as many vampires tend to be. They like power, and power is easiest got with money, so they gravitate towards fields in which they can make a lot of money. My ancestor also was very fond of humans, too fond some said. That he had relations with, and children with, a human woman was no surprise to anyone who knew him.
A Child of Judas who was fond of humans? That was different.
“What about the children?” I asked.
My father bit into his steak sandwich. He chewed, swallowed. “Four. They had four. One died. Two became vampires and one remained human. His name was, uh, John Bennett. He became a farmer someplace in the Midwest…Iowa maybe. Who knows? He led a pretty quiet life, by all accounts.”
Right. Except that he may have been the offspring of a Child of Judas.
“Did he have any weird talents?” I asked, thinking about my own ability to resist glamouring and mind reading.
My father shrugged. “Who knows? He was your mom’s ancestor and I never saw any weird talents in her—did you?”
No, I never had. Mom’s premier talent was for finding new and exciting uses for aluminum foil and spoons. That wasn’t weird, just sad.
“How is your mom these days?” My father spoke hesitant
ly, as though he were ashamed to have me know he didn’t keep in close touch with his wife’s well-being. I gave him a quick smile.
“I visited her a couple days ago. She thought I was Milton to begin with. Then she called me Miriam. I don’t even know anyone named Miriam.”
My father’s gaze became momentarily distant and troubled.
“What?” I demanded.
He shook his head. “It’s…nothing,” he said.
It was something. I was sure of it. I glared at him. “Dad. I already have vampires out the wazoo who aren’t telling me anything. Do I really have to add you to that roster?”
He sighed. “I don’t know for sure, Dante, but I assume she must mean Miriam Kevorkian,” he said.
I nodded. “Voshki’s mother. Right. Mom mentioned that. What does Voshki’s family have to do with us? Or me?”
My father shook his head again, this time with a determination that told me that I wasn’t going to get any further helpful information out of him. “Poor Irina,” he remarked instead. “That woman is a saint to put up with what she does. God knows I couldn’t do it.” He bit into his sandwich, chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds then swallowed and washed it all down with a swig of beer. “You know I had to do what I did with your mom, right? You don’t think bad of me for it, do you?”
I had no idea my father even cared what his kids thought of him. And frankly, my parents’ problems were their own. I had enough problems to be concerned with. I shrugged. “I think you did what you had to,” I said and my father looked relieved.
“She wasn’t always like that,” he said wistfully.
I eyed him. I certainly couldn’t recall a time in my life when my mother had been anything other than a doped-up, wigged-out semi-lunatic. Sure, she’d continued to be a terrific movie producer even during her worst times, and the respect her industry peers had for her ability to get the job done was about all that had stood between her and oblivion at those times. But as a mother she had stunk up the room. Always.
“She was a firecracker—in every way—when I married her.” Dad grinned.
I couldn’t get a picture of that. Which was probably a good thing. “So you don’t know anything else about my vampire ancestor?” I asked. Then, because I wasn’t letting him off the hook about that either: “And you need to tell me what connection the Kevorkians have to us.”
He sighed. He also glanced at his watch. Wanting me to know he had places to be. What a wonderful, close-knit family we were. No wonder I didn’t find dating a vampire to be all that goddamned weird. Maybe Great-great-grandma Alice had felt the same way.
“The Kevorkians,” I said stubbornly. I caught Lydia eyeing me, and she gave me a quick atta-girl wink.
“We’ve known the Kevorkians for a while,” my father began. “Your great-grandmother on your mother’s side married a Sonnier. That’s the first I heard of the Kevorkians being involved with our family. As for us, well you know we’ve always worked with them, Dante.” He gave his watch another pointed glance. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I gotta go. I’ll, uh, see you again sometime?”
I wanted to love him. I really did. Just as I wanted to love my mother. I gave a stiff little nod instead. “Sure, Dad. And if you remember anything else about that vampire guy…”
“…I’ll call you,” he finished hastily. He exchanged more air kisses with Lydia, who I realized hadn’t said a word the whole time, and that worried me. My father then bent down swiftly and kissed me on the cheek. “Bye, Dante. You take care.”
“Yeah, you too,” I told him.
Once he was gone, Lydia laid a hand lightly on my wrist and looked at me with concern. “Honey, are you okay?” she asked. She waggled her brows at me. “That’s a helluva revelation. You could be related to Robin Shepherd. I don’t know what to say. For once.”
That was alright. I didn’t know what to think of it yet. “Do you think that explains why she didn’t kill me?” I asked Lydia and she shrugged.
“Might be that’s a question you’ll have to ask someone who knows…someone like Voshki?” she suggested gently.
I sighed. Picked up my drink and downed the remainder of it. Then I signaled to a passing waiter for another round. Sometimes all there is to soothe a mind troubled is the balm of booze. I didn’t need to ask if Lydia wanted another.
“Sorry, sweetie, but you’re going to have to tell Voshki what you know.” Lydia patted my arm again.
I knew what she was saying was true. If I really was related to Robin Shepherd and the Children of Judas, even distantly, the only people who could help me deal with that, and all it implied, were the vampires. Even though I suspected more than ever that they had been keeping things from me.
“Fuck me,” I sighed. “Why can’t things in my life be even vaguely as they seem?”
Lydia raised her glass in a mocking toast. “Welcome to Hollywood, baby. Land of smoke and mirrors.”
I smiled as I raised my own glass. “And vampires. Don’t forget those.”
THE END
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dante's Awakening Page 20
