by Aiden James
But I didn’t recall dreaming at all. When I awoke, fairly rested, the palace was filled with vibrant energy. The final preparations to leave the Maldives were under way.
***
So, that brings us to the present…well sort of.
We just arrived at Bengaluru International Airport, and Tyreen, Chanson, Raquel, and I were the first ones on board our next jet. We flew in from the island on the plane Racco picked me up with in Nashville, as miraculously it was spared so much as a scratch from Ralu’s warriors last night. But it was a little cramped with all of us, so this should at least make for a better trip to Kazakhstan.
The peace between Racco, Garvan, and Armando continues for now. And Garvan and Armando are back to their fun-loving antics. I only pray what we witnessed a few minutes ago continues throughout the duration of the latest adventure we’re about to embark on.
Everyone was aboard the plane, except for Armando. When we started to worry, thinking he might’ve decided to ditch us after all, all of a sudden the door next to the cockpit blew open. In stepped our beloved vampire, decked out in a snakeskin Stetson that matched a pair of viper shit-kickers he procured in Nashville last month. But, that was only the beginning of his latest outrageous outfit. He wore a rhinestone jacket, torn jeans, a big belt buckle with Elvis Presley’s image in vintage silver, and in honor of the ‘King of Rock n’ Roll’, a pair of tinted Ray-Bans and puffy shirt open to just above his navel, ala Racco.
Too stunned to laugh, we watched him strut down the aisle like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be Bono or Mick Jagger.
“Silver train is a comin’…thinnnnkkk I’m gonna get on nowwww. Oh yeah!” he crooned, “Silver train is a comin’…thinnnnkkk I wanna get on nowwww. Oh, yeah…Oh yeah!”
“I don’t recognize that as a legitimate U2 song,” said Raquel, snickering as he strutted past her seat. “And you’re far too nasally to give Bono a run for his money!”
“The hell you say?” he said, stopping his performance in mid-strut. “This is supposed to be Mick Jagger in the early days!” he feigned offense and restarted the song.
“What, is that a Rolling Stones song?” asked Tyreen, wearing the look of a confused teenage girl far too young to appreciate one of the great bands of the sixties and seventies…and eighties, if my Papa’s opinion counts for anything.
“Vintage tune sung by the master of such elegant raunchiness!” flaunted Armando, reaching his fingers down his throat as if he was going to force-vomit. “It is my new anthem…”Silver Train is a comin’…thinnnnkkk I’m gonna get on now. Oh, yeah!....”
“Shut the hell up before you ruin my favorite cut from the “Goats Head Soup” album!” shouted Garvan in mock irritation. “Brian Jones is probably rolling over in his grave!”
“Uh-uh-uhhh!” Armando taunted back, waving a honed sharp-nailed forefinger at his immortal pal. “Brian was long dead before that album was cut, and Mick Taylor had replaced him…. That slide’s classic M.T., you bumbling idiot! I’ll bet you don’t even remember we went to the tour’s opening night in London, back in seventy-two!”
“It was 1973, and the tour didn’t start in London, dumb-ass!” said Raquel, and we were off to the races for another fun time…just hope it lasts.
While everyone’s laughing and having a good time, I believe it’s finally time to wrap up this update. Besides, my baby girl has something to tell me…she’s moving on to other words besides ‘ma-ma’. But before I go, I will share one last thing. I haven’t met Marissa yet, but someone who called herself that name appeared in a dream while I napped on the hour and a half flight from the island in the Maldives to Bangalore. This girl looked a lot like Chanson, but younger than I expected her to look, and her hair carries more of a reddish tint than either mine or Chanson’s.
I hope it was merely a dream and nothing else. Because if it is anything more, then we’re headed for some serious trouble. At least that’s what the girl named Marissa in my dream said.
“What my papa seeks to do won’t work!” she said, her French accent rough and almost garbled. “Turn back before it’s too late…or someone is going to die!”
I pray it’s just a dream born out of anxieties of going to another new place and facing the unknown. If not…then God, I hope she’s wrong.
The End
Available now:
Blood Princesses of the Vampires
Dying of the Dark Vampires, Book Three
(Please read on for a sample)
“You worry far too much, Txema,” said Mohini, gently reminding me that my thoughts were coming in loud and clear for her and the rest of our undead companions—both in our chopper and surely the other one that had just landed. “Try not to borrow trouble with your mind, since it’s a sure way to materialize your fears.”
I nodded while smiling sheepishly, wondering how I could ever keep from worrying, given Ralu’s determination to wipe my bloodline’s presence from the earth. Meanwhile, our helicopter landed. Mercel quickly opened the door, and Racco led the way onto the tarmac, with our vampire trio, Mercel, and me right behind him. I guess I should’ve anticipated how quickly they would all move. Even Racco’s non-vampire legs carried him swiftly to the limousine. My athletic gifts were no match, although I had a substantial lead on Mercel. He and I scurried into the back of our limo just as it began to creep forward.
“Everyone, leave the talking to me,” said Racco, who chose the seat behind the driver, so he could readily roll down the window and present whatever credentials, or other ‘acceptable’ forms of coercion, to get us through unhindered. Mohini sat next to him, and Mercel sat next to her. Xuanxang, Koimala, and me sat across from them. Our car took the lead and the other two vehicles that housed the other eleven vampires followed close behind us. “But just in case we are detained, Koimala be ready with what we discussed earlier.”
The Maldivian Emperor nodded knowingly. It made me wonder if Koimala would try some peaceful sorcery, or violently slaughter the dozen guards in a matter of seconds, if it came to that. The playful look he shot me gave hope for the former option, and not the latter.
The only checkpoint that proved problematic was the last one out of the airport facility. Unfortunately, it proved to be a significant hindrance. We were stopped for almost two hours—even worse than what I had feared. Xuanxang, Koimala, and Mohini seemed just as nervous as me, despite the fact that all three could kill the vast majority of human soldiers before any of them knew they were under attack. Racco was angry, but managed to keep his ire hidden from the guards that were preventing our caravan of limousines from leaving the airport.
Part of the reason for his cool exterior was the fact that we weren’t detained because of vampire fears, or anything else we had done. It had something to do with a traffic jam a mile ahead of us, where a division of tanks was being positioned along a protective ring surrounding Almaty’s downtown area. Any sorcery or violence on our part would likely make things worse. If only my growing hunger would cooperate as easily.
“This is bad,” said Racco, stating the obvious. “But, this inconvenience could turn disastrous if we stray from our most logical options.”
“Meanwhile, we run the risk of losing our target,” said Xuanxang, quietly.
His anger seemed to worsen, despite his agreement with Racco’s assessment. Koimala and Mohini said nothing, and neither did Mercel. He seemed to shrink back in his seat across from me, as if loathing the fact that his confined presence with our vampire companions had been extended far longer than he had hoped. It mattered not that the kindest vampire I had ever met, Mohini, sat next to him. Not to mention how much worse this could’ve been if the freezing essences of our usual vampire buddies were what he had to contend with, instead of the warmer variety.
“Yes, this is true,” agreed Racco, adding an emphatic nod. “Unfortunately, we will have to rely on vampiric senses, since the information I gave you could be useless by the time we get through this.”
“Maybe
we should get out and walk,” Mohini suggested, drawing a scowl from her husband. He probably thought she was being a smart-ass. “Txema will need nourishment before long, and we can find a café along the way.”
“I have something better for her, and only wish that I had blood beverages for you three,” said Racco. He reached into a small refrigerator underneath a table separating the bench seats, and pulled out two bottled waters—one for me and one for Mercel. Then he pulled out a pair of small tablets that reminded me of a pill he gave me last year, when we skied down the side of a mountain in the Pyrenees. “Here, Txema and Mercel…these should quiet your hunger and give you the energy you will need. You shouldn’t require anything else until we are back in the helicopter, later this afternoon.”
Mercel took his pill and water without any questions. You already know that’s not how it works for me.
“Is this like the last energy tablet you gave me?”
“Better. This one will last as long as eight hours, and it still brings the same kick that the other one had,” he said, smiling wanly, as if reminiscing about that wonderful trip for a moment. “I had already planned to give you this, and it now seems especially fortuitous, since we can’t have you tapping out on us when we finally find Marissa. We may get only one chance to apprehend her, and we can’t afford a single fuck-up on our part.”
Not that sitting in a non-moving limo didn’t count as one already.
Rather than voice anything sarcastic in our present pressure-cooker, I demurely took my pill and drank it down like a good girl. Racco was right—this one did carry the same kick, and where I thought the tortuous wait to get the traffic moving again would become excruciating, I hardly noticed. Very strange, and I’m sure the same was also true for Mercel. He looked totally at peace.
But it wasn’t that way for the rest of our companions. Although everyone aside from Xuanxang smiled pleasantly, eventually Racco’s and Koimala’s looks turned sour from worry. This was especially true when forty minutes became an hour, and the hour added another fifty minutes.
Finally, the guard gave us the okay to move forward. Even that didn’t happen until I watched a handful of large bills leave Racco’s hand and slide up the guard’s sleeve. Instead of another round of prying looks into the limousine’s interior, the guard simply smiled and waved us through.
“Whatever it takes,” Racco said to me, after his window was rolled back up again. He added a wry smile. “We should reach the heart of the city in just a few minutes.”
The digital clock behind the driver’s seat read 1:42 p.m. I had overheard Racco tell Koimala earlier that we needed to leave Almaty by four o’clock at the latest. If we left any later, we might not make it back to the lodge and fortress before dusk. No one needed to remind anyone else what that would mean in terms of a welcoming party from Vere Kuningas and his associates.
Despite the military presence that pervaded everywhere, the downtown areas were largely unaffected. The main concern seemed directed toward travelers entering and leaving the city limits. Despite my previous visit to Kazakhstan’s former capital, the architecture in both modern and older buildings seemed even more striking to me than before, and in styles that I now believed were unique to this city. Nestled near two mountain ranges, the towering peaks in the distance give Almaty its own distinct personality.
When we neared the gorgeous orthodox cathedral that Racco and I had visited in our last visit, Xuanxang called for the driver to stop the limousine.
“There are several buildings here that will serve us well in locking into Marissa’s exact location,” he explained. “I feared that she might’ve moved on to some other location. But, she’s definitely here…in this area.”
For the first time since I met him in China, Xuanxang smiled, and wide enough to reveal his sparkling double-incisors. Racco motioned for the driver to pull into a parking lot across from the church.
“This may be as good a place as any for us to get out and have a look around,” said Racco. “Mercel, I will have you keep an eye out here near the car, in case you see her. Txema and I will visit the church and the park. That leaves everyone else to search wherever their instincts lead them…. Be sure to keep your radios turned on, since not all of us can communicate silently.” He chuckled.
The limo parked near the main walkway, and the other two vehicles pulled up behind us. When the doors opened, certainly sixteen Ray-Ban clad passengers climbing out at once looked inconspicuous. All facetiousness aside, the vampires soon disappeared, infiltrating the entire area.
As for Racco and I, we walked over to Zenkov Cathedral, where again I reveled in the building’s beauty. I probably mentioned this before, but knowing that it’s the tallest wooden building in the world adds to its allure for me. This time, we had the opportunity to go inside and take a closer look. Yes, perhaps foolish, since Marissa could go strolling by at any moment, and maybe a waste of money since it would be a quick look and then we’d be out of there. But, seeing the gilded alter and the amazing murals is something that will stay with me for quite a long time.
Racco was tense, and I could tell he struggled mightily with an urge to upbraid me for my impulsiveness versus wanting to prove his undying devotion to me. Who knows what might’ve happened if I hadn’t noticed a lone figure standing roughly a hundred feet away, after we exited the church. It was a woman, and she stood in front of the World War II guardsmen memorial in the adjoining Panfilov Park. If not for the woman’s old-fashioned, ankle-length dress, I might’ve dismissed the familiarity from where we stood. It quickly became apparent who it was.
I nudged Racco, and he agreed that it was the same light blue dress Marissa wore that morning. Surprised to find her so easily, his immediate instinct was to run to where she stood with her back to us, intending to tackle his daughter before she could flee again. It took my greatest effort to keep him from doing something that foolish, and I must’ve looked like an idiot trying to shush him when his indignation got the better of him.
I may not possess the telepathic and other psychic gifts that every vampire and Relance de sang child seemingly possesses. But I can be fairly persuasive when necessary. It took a moment for Racco to believe my plan of approaching Marissa in a non-threatening manner was the only option that could work. He finally caved in, once he considered how delicate our chances were of getting her to listen and actually agree to come with us. A woman’s touch was definitely needed here—especially one that belonged to a female Marissa trusted. Any aggression—even slight—could be perceived in the same light as what went down in the fortress laboratory that morning.
“Give me just ten minutes,” I said. “That should be enough time to convince her to come with us. If she won’t come, then I’ll grab her around the waist and wave to you for help. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, still reluctant to handle the situation in this way. “I trust you, Txema. Go and get Marissa.”
I reached up and kissed him and then set out on my mission. I moved as quickly and quietly as possible, careful not to drag my shoes across the pavement. All the while, I worried that she might look over her shoulder and notice my presence. But she remained focused on the Panfilov Guardsmen monument, created long ago to commemorate the Russian heroes from World War II.
“Hello, Txema,” she said, without turning around, when I was within a few feet of her. “The exquisite décor inside the cathedral is quite impressive, isn’t it?”
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with playfulness. I didn’t know how to respond. Obviously, she was aware of my presence long before I noticed her.
“It’s amazing,” I said, wondering how our conversation would progress. Would there be extensive non-invasive chitchat regarding this marvelous city, or would she move to cut me off as soon as I confirmed my reason for being here? Surely, she already knew why we came. “It’s a place I will always remember.”
“My friends from long ago used to talk about when Zenkov Cathedral was being built,
and how the architects would argue whether to use stone or wood for the framework,” she said, turning her attention back to the monument. Her French accent was fading into southeastern American, and I realized she was directly mainlined into my mind’s resources again. “I thought seeing it would bring me peace. The new city is so beautiful…but it doesn’t touch the emptiness I feel inside.”
Words spoken without anger or remorse…detached, as if she were burrowing inside her own psyche as a casual observer.
“It’s because all this time you’ve been missing those who care about you,” I said, delivering the words carefully, and with compassion. “I can think of several people who love you, Marissa. Alaia and I have not known you long, yet I know that you know we’ve grown to care deeply for you…as our cousin, and something much more than that.”
“I’m fond of you two, as well,” she said, and then glanced to where her father stood. Racco had crept to within a hundred feet of us. “But, I’m not going back with you. I’m not going anywhere. This place will be my home…this place where I can come see a good papa every day.”
She pointed to the monument, which is dominated by a Hulk-like soldier who looks as if he is taking on the guardsmen’s enemies by himself. Ferocious in appearance, I suddenly remembered seeing pictures of this monument during my junior year in high school.
“But, where will you stay?” I asked, deliberately mimicking her cool calmness, although deep inside I had begun to panic. “Who will take care of you?”
She had to go back with us—no other option was acceptable. And I couldn’t have cared less at that moment about any male’s perspective. My daughter’s survival depended on it—even if it meant that I wouldn’t be so lucky. The creation of one more amulet was all I hoped for at this point. With Alaia protected from harm, I could deal with Ralu, Vere, Huangtian Dadi, or whatever other bastard vampire who wanted me dead. At least our bloodline would survive.
