by Gary Jonas
“If you say so.”
Amanda moved to the counter. “Make him take us to Chambers so we can save Chantelle.”
“That would be the wrong move,” Geoffrey said.
“Why?” Amanda asked.
“If William thinks you’re a threat, he’ll just kill you all and start over.”
“We’re not that easy to kill,” Amanda said.
“You go right on believing that,” Geoffrey said. “Take on William in his stronghold and you’ll die before you realize how wrong you are.”
“How old is Chambers?” I asked.
Geoffrey winked at me. “Nearly as old as Victor Pavlenco. They were contemporaries in the early 1300s.”
I frowned. “And his real name is William Chambers?”
“Not back then,” Geoffrey said. “Of course, Victor Pavlenco went by another name at that time, too. When your life extends across the ages, you tend to require a change of identity from time to time.”
“All right then, who was Chambers back then?”
“You might be more interested to know who Pavlenco was.”
“Why?”
“Because odds are you’ve heard of him. His name was Jacques de Molay.”
I shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t get as much training in history as most.”
“You know about Egypt, but not France?”
“I took an interest in Hatshepsut when I was younger, so I learned more about Egypt on my own.”
Amanda nodded. “Jacques de Molay was the head of the Knights Templar, until his men were tortured and burned at the stake back in 1307. Their bad luck that day is why Friday the thirteenth is seen as unlucky.”
“They were merely arrested on Friday the thirteenth. King Philip IV ordered them to be tortured into confessing to crimes against the faith. Jacques died seven years later after retracting his confession. He was burned at the stake in March 1314 then wrapped in a shroud, and after three days, he rose.”
“As a vampire.”
Geoffrey winked. “He was already a vampire. The shroud, by the way, is still around. It’s called the Shroud of Turin.”
“I thought Jesus was wrapped in the Shroud of Turin,” Amanda said.
Geoffrey shook his head. “They’ve carbon dated the shroud. It dates to the early 1300s.”
“What was your boss’s name back then?”
“William St. Clair, later changed to William Sinclair.”
Amanda nodded. “An important name in the legends of the Knights Templar.”
“The important name,” Geoffrey said. “Sinclair led a group of knights over the alps into Switzerland. He turned the few remaining knights into vampires, and they infiltrated society around the world, though William eventually moved to Scotland.”
“Whatever,” I said.
“The vampire knights held power for centuries.”
“Until someone came along and killed them, right?”
“Not all of them.”
“Oh, it’s never all of them,” I said and shook my head. “That would be too efficient.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I’m currently at your mercy, Ms. Chan. How would you like to proceed?”
“I wouldn’t,” I said and shot him in the head.
CHAPTER NINE
I hate it when I lower myself to using projectile weapons such as guns. Geoffrey’s head snapped back when the bullet struck him, but he didn’t drop. He plucked the bullet from his head and flicked it back to me. A big red hole in his forehead slowly healed itself.
“Predictable,” he said. “So sorry to disappoint you, but unlike my compatriots, I’m a Lead Watcher. Your little toy can’t kill me. In point of fact, I’ve been dead since 1888.”
I frowned. “If you tell me you’re Jack the Ripper…”
He laughed. “No. I was born in London, but I left there in 1854 and I died in New York City. For a time.” He darted forward, grabbed Amanda by the throat and pulled her close to use her as a shield in case I wanted to shoot him again.
“What are you doing?” Amanda said.
“I don’t want any more holes in my person,” he said. “They’re an annoyance.”
I set the gun on the counter. “Fine, Geoffrey. As I’m not going to shoot Amanda, and she’s not going to kill you with her magic out of worry for her sister, the next move is yours. How would you like to proceed?”
***
As the sun sank behind the Rocky Mountains, Amanda, Chantelle, and I followed Geoffrey into a mansion in Castle Pines. The back of the house butted up against the golf course, and I wondered how often they had to fish golf balls out of the swimming pool, and whether or not they kept extra windows in the garage to replace any that were broken by bad golfers. I had better things to consider, but I knew a few wizards who lived in Castle Pines and they used spells to keep golf balls off their property.
On the drive over, Chantelle kept begging us to just let her die.
Amanda kept telling her we had to save her.
And Geoffrey said nothing except when he told me where to turn, and finally where to park.
Inside the mansion, a skinny, old butler greeted us. “Would anyone care for a drink?” he asked.
Geoffrey waved him off. “No thank you, Mr. Jardone. Will you tell Mr. Chambers to meet us in the library?”
“Of course, sir.”
The light was angled to cast plenty of shadows. Geoffrey led us through the foyer past a living room, tastefully decorated, and up a circular staircase that dropped us off on the second level. I could see four doors. The one to the right would be the master bedroom. The two at the end of the hall to the left were guest bedrooms, and the one straight ahead led to the library. It was really just another bedroom, but it held bookshelves and reading chairs rather than a bed and dresser.
The shelves were filled with old leather books. They were so uniform, I suspected they’d been purchased as decorations rather than anything intended for self-education.
“You may all be seated,” Geoffrey said.
Chantelle and Amanda sat on a small divan. I chose a leather chair off to the side.
Geoffrey left the room and closed the door, leaving us alone.
“Don’t do anything for them,” Chantelle said.
“We have to save you,” Amanda said.
“I don’t want to be saved.”
Endless loop. I tuned them out.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Geoffrey entered. “Mr. Chambers will be joining us momentarily.”
“Shouldn’t we just call him Sinclair?”
Geoffrey frowned. “As far as he knows, you are only aware of his William Chambers identity. I’d recommend keeping it that way.”
Was he saying that to protect himself? Or was he just saying that to test us. I couldn’t see why Chambers or Sinclair or whatever his real name was would care what name we knew him by. While it’s true that in magical communities, true names held power, I didn’t for a moment believe his real name was Sinclair.
I kept my poker face, and wasn’t concerned about Amanda because she was still busy trying to talk sense into her sister.
We sat patiently.
And we sat some more.
When you’ve lived for centuries, your definition of momentarily may be in need of an adjustment.
Eventually, he deigned to grace us with his presence.
He entered the room wearing a stylish suit. His blond hair hung to his shoulders, and if not for his pale skin, he could have dressed in swim trunks and passed for a California surfer.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said as he closed the door.
“You need to save my sister,” Amanda said.
“Demanding little minx, aren’t you? I’m delighted to meet you too,” he said and smiled. The smile did not reach his eyes.
“We’re running out of time. You need to save her now.”
He took a deep breath, something I wouldn’t think a vampire needed to do, and let it out. “The only thing I need is
blood. There are many things I want, however.”
“I need you to save my sister,” Amanda said.
“Stop it,” Chantelle said. “You’ll make him mad.”
“I don’t care.”
Sinclair stepped up to Amanda, placed a single finger on her forehead. She tensed, and her hands started to glow, but she didn’t have time to pull up any magic. She went silent and slumped in the divan.
I bolted from my chair, but Sinclair placed a hand on Amanda’s throat. “Sit down or I’ll break her neck,” he said.
With the grip he had, I didn’t have much choice. I sat and waited.
He glanced at Chantelle. “Can you remain quiet while I have a discussion with my other guest?” he asked.
Chantelle nodded.
“Good.” He released Amanda and walked over to the corner where I sat. He grabbed a chair from in front of another bookcase, lifted it and placed it so he could sit facing me. As he sat, he folded his hands in his lap. “I understand you killed more of my men this afternoon.”
I nodded. “I’d be happy to kill the rest of them, if you like,” I said.
He stared at me for five seconds then a grin appeared on his face. He looked back at Geoffrey. “I like her,” he said.
“I thought you might, sir,” Geoffrey said.
Sinclair brought his gaze back to mine. “Do you know what I want?”
“The Ring of Aten.”
“That’s correct. It’s rightfully mine. Will you help me obtain it?”
I folded my arms. “Why would I do that?”
“To save your friend.”
“Chantelle is not my friend, and she wants to die. You save her, she’ll just find another way to kill herself.”
“I was referring to Amanda West.”
“Amanda can take care of herself.”
“And yet, I put her to sleep with the touch of my finger.”
“Maybe she was tired,” I said.
“Right. Well, let’s up the ante a bit, shall we?” His hand darted forward and touched my hand. “I command you to stay,” he said, and a feeling swept through me that I couldn’t stop.
He rose and walked back to Amanda while I tried to move my legs. I failed. “At the moment,” Sinclair said, “she is merely sleeping, but when I do this…” he touched her again and spoke words I couldn’t understand. Probably Latin.
Amanda’s eyes snapped open wide and her pupils dilated until they blocked out the irises. She blinked and cried out in pain. I started to go to her, but Sinclair held up a hand. Amanda’s eyes went back to normal and her head slowly nodded forward as she returned to the sleep state.
“That’s better,” Sinclair said. “She now has two days to live.”
“What?”
“Oh, you can still save her.” He smiled. “Do you know why Chantelle wants to die?”
“I don’t really care. You need to remove that death spell from Amanda.”
“You run a martial arts dojo and you specialize in helping battered women find their confidence.”
“They have to want to live, though,” I said.
“Quite so. I’ll be honest, Kelly. You don’t mind if I call you Kelly, do you?”
“You may call me Ms. Chan,” I said.
The smile reached his eyes this time. “Very well, Ms. Chan. I like you. I really like you.”
“Don’t go there. I think you’re pond scum.”
“Of course you do. Where was I?”
“You were going to be honest, which tells me you’re about to lie to me.”
“So you think I’m pond scum and a liar.”
“Pretty much.” I still couldn’t move my legs.
He shrugged. “That’s your prerogative, of course. But, to be honest, and I am going to be honest with you whether you believe me or not.”
I sighed. “Just say what you want to say already.”
“To the point.”
“Please.”
He nodded. “Very well. Chantelle was a little project of mine.” He turned. “Chantelle, darling, can you come over here, please?”
Chantelle stood, patted her sleeping sister on the shoulder then walked over to Sinclair.
He put an arm around her waist. “When did we meet, my dear?” he asked.
“Three nights ago.”
“Look beneath the veneer. I’ve layered story upon story to cover the truth. I command you to dig beneath all of it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“When did we first meet?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“How did we meet?”
“You approached me in a club, and asked me to dance.”
“What happened later?”
“I had sex with six men.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because you commanded it.”
“How did you feel about it?”
“Devastated.”
I tried to lift myself out of the chair with my hands, but Sinclair reached out and touched my forehead with his finger. There was something in his touch that affected my muscles. I sat back.
Sinclair focused on Chantelle. “Over the last three weeks, how many men have you had sex with?”
Chantelle didn’t answer. Tears leaked from her eyes and dripped down her cheeks.
“Answer me. I command you.”
I wanted to rip his head off, but my arms wouldn’t budge. All I could do was watch.
“How many?” Sinclair demanded.
Chantelle dropped to her knees, sobbing. “I don’t know.”
“Guess.”
“I can’t even guess,” she said through her sobs. She buried her face in her hands. “There were so many, and I don’t know if they were the same men or different.”
“Assuming they were different, Chantelle, I command you to do the math and tell me how many times you were violated.”
I reached deep inside myself, trying to find the strength to move. It was useless. My muscles wouldn’t work. I sat there fuming and unable to speak or strike out.
“More than a hundred.”
“Why did I have men rape you, Chantelle?”
“Because you wanted my sister.”
“And you wouldn’t call her. Is that right?”
“Just kill me,” she said. “Just kill me now.”
“I’m finished with you, Chantelle. You may leave. I command you to walk out of this house, go down to I-25, and walk south toward the Springs. I promise you will be dead in a few hours.”
Chantelle rose and started walking toward the door.
“I command you to wait,” Sinclair said. He glanced at me and smiled, then turned back to her. “As you walk, I want you to remember that you put your sister and her friend Ms. Chan into my hands. I want you to live with that knowledge as you stroll down the interstate until you drop dead. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Chantelle said.
“You may go.” He leaned close to me. “Silly girl never realized I could have simply called Amanda myself. Her number is listed. As such, she held out for nothing. Isn’t that a pity?”
Chantelle walked out the door, and I never saw her alive again.
CHAPTER TEN
Sinclair still sat across from me. “I command you to look into my eyes, Ms. Chan.”
I met his gaze. I didn’t have a choice.
“I’m going to keep your witch friend here with me. Geoffrey will watch over her and see that no harm comes to her. No additional harm, that is.”
I didn’t speak because I couldn’t.
He leaned forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to shrug it off, claw out his eyes, tear off his head, rip him limb from limb, and cast the pieces to the far ends of the earth.
“Listen carefully, Ms. Chan. I’m going to grant you the power of speech in a moment, and I know you have so many choice things you’d like to say to me. You think I’m a monster. I know. It’s all right. I don’t care what you think. What I care about is get
ting the Ring of Aten. I command you to go find Victor Pavlenco and take the ring from him. I command you to bring it back to me, and I command you to never lift a finger to harm me. I also command you to never speak ill of me. You have two days to get the ring to me or your witch friend dies. I trust you understand the situation.”
He removed his hand from my shoulder, leaned back in his chair and grinned at me. “You may speak and move now.”
I bolted upright and tried to launch a snap-kick to his face, but couldn’t lift my foot.
He smiled up at me. “My command is a mental thing, so it doesn’t rely on semantics like some silly magic spell. You thought you could attack and kill me using something that didn’t involve lifting your finger. Am I correct?”
I nodded. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
“You humans are pitiful. You live such short, agonized lives. Chantelle was so uptight about sex when I met her. She’d had a few partners, but sex made her feel like an object because men wanted nothing else from her. I gave her more sex than she knew what to do with. More men than she could imagine being with, and all of them treated her like a piece of pretty flesh and nothing more. I do want you to understand that I never raped her.”
I wanted to cry bullshit, but I couldn’t. Evidently, if I told him he was at least an accomplice if not an instigator, that would be speaking ill of him. “You’re amazing,” I said, and cringed when there wasn’t any sarcasm in my tone.
“I am, aren’t I?”
I fumed inside.
“Chantelle was nothing more than an amusement to me,” he said. “She was at best a food source. I grew tired of physical pleasures centuries ago. I can have anyone I want. I can command you to make passionate love to me right here right now, and you would do it. And lovely as you are, I would still be bored.”
“You never get to the point, do you?” I said. I wanted to hit him, I wanted to kill him. But I couldn’t.
“Interesting,” Sinclair said. “Are you testing your boundaries? That’s awfully close to speaking ill of me.”
“It’s an observation.”
“You’re a powerful woman, Ms. Chan. You need to understand that I can break you too. I broke Chantelle’s feelings of value in a matter of days. I miscalculated a bit with her because without any self-worth, she valued her sister’s life too much and wouldn’t call her, which took some of the fun out of the game, so I had to give some of it back by setting her free.”
