Judas and the Vampires

by Aiden James

  Following Chanson’s advice, I began retiring earlier and earlier each night, until I was sound asleep by midnight. That allowed me enough rest to where I was up by 7:00 a.m. At first, I hated the shortened visiting time with her and everyone else. The palace often felt like a mausoleum. The thing that got me up and rolling each morning was the incredible view just outside my bedchamber. The immense wall of glass framed an incredible, breathtaking view of the highest peaks in the Himalayas.

  I could see part of Mount Everest from the hallway, and the morning view was always spectacular. On the rare occasion of a clear blue sky, what I beheld was almost indescribable. It changed how I felt about the primitive accommodations as compared to what I had grown up with.

  But it was also quite lonely.

  I often thought about my Papa and Momma, as well as my grandmother and brothers. My heart ached for them, and I worried that I might never see any of them again.

  You might wonder if I ever thought about Racco or Peter at such times. Yes, I thought of them, too. But, I guess since, in my mind, Racco had willingly left my side to return to his life in France, and Peter had returned to the States with only a slight protest, I considered them both deserters. They heard the word ‘baby’ and took off.

  My Papa especially would love the view, since he always sought to explore the highest peaks in America. He was the reason I learned to ski—and ski well enough to receive a scholarship offer at the University of Colorado during my junior year in high school.

  At least the view stirred something in my soul each day. It made the dull routine of going downstairs to a limited menu of fish, poultry, and vegetables to go with a small bowl of rice and a cup of steaming tea somewhat bearable. Every night I’d return to the reception area with my vampire companions, and again it would be the same rice and whatever P.F. Chang’s frozen entrée for me to eat. All kidding aside, I think the only thing that kept me from bitching too much about this arrangement was the fact my vampire friends had to drink the same warm blood set out for them in carafes.

  Tyreen was the only exception. Chanson made an arrangement with Xuanxang for the nubile vampire in our group to feed on ‘volunteer’ adolescents secluded in a section of the palace that was another ‘off limits’ place for me.

  The only time I saw Xuanxang was when he came to escort Tyreen each night, and I never saw Huangtian Dadi. I ran into Gustav a few times, but rarely anyone else from Europe or for that matter any of the other Chinese vampires. If not for an occasional ‘drive by’ greeting from Nora and Kazikli, I would’ve thought the damned place was as deserted as the Overlook Hotel in Stephen King’s novel, The Shining.

  As December wore on, I became more and more lonely for my family and my home in America. That’s where I wanted to be, and it was truly where I belonged. I began to resent what had happened to me—despite the wonderful tiny life growing within me each day.

  By Christmas Eve, my intuitions told me that I no longer carried a primitive fetus. My daughter’s gills would be gone soon, and she would begin her transformation into a viable human being. That was pretty cool to think about, and it made me smile. I believe this is where fate stepped in and began to shape my future in a way that even the smartest vampires could not predict or control.

  Since it was Christmas Eve, I decided to get an early start on the day, and for a change lingered longer than usual in front of the immense window outside my room. Taking in the grandeur of a fabulous morning following a night of blustering snow, I let my gaze linger on the drifted snow banks below the window. I hadn’t done it much before, since surveying anything connected to the palace provided an instant reminder that I was a glorified prisoner on house arrest. Better to focus on the eternal freedom the mountains enjoyed—or even the eagles and lamagiers that glided effortlessly, and then dove beyond where my vision could follow them. That was ultimate freedom.

  But, December twenty-fourth was different from all previous mornings in the palace, and I felt the urge to study the ice-cycles and snowdrifts instead. That’s when I saw the tracks.

  The three-toed imprints were large—bigger than any human footprint I’d ever seen. The tracks moved along the side of the main building to the palace and curved along the snow bank as the path moved beyond the back of the building. Intrigued, I studied the tracks again, and visually followed their course until I suddenly noticed something else.

  The gray tail of an enormous lizard whipped back and forth for a moment, and then disappeared beyond where I could see. That got me going. Since it was quite cold outside, I gathered my snowsuit from the closet in my bedchamber and hurriedly put it on. Then I set out in earnest to find whatever it was I just saw.

  Moving quickly downstairs, I picked up my pace as I followed the corridor back to the rear entrance to my building. I barely glanced at the tiresome entrees laid out for me in the reception area, but did take a look at the clock. The time was 8:36 a.m.

  I mentioned that I rarely saw anyone, but encountered nearly a dozen children on my way to the back entrance. They smiled curiously at me, and I politely returned their smiles. But I was on a mission—a fact finding one where I simply had to confirm if I actually saw what I thought I saw, or if my bored mind and overactive imagination had gotten the better of me.

  Bundled up, I stepped outside into the frigid air. The sun was out, but the temperature felt as if it hung around zero degrees Fahrenheit. I didn’t see a thermometer, and God only knows what the temperature was in Celsius…roughly a twenty degrees difference when it got down to zero, right? Or something like that. All I knew was my nostrils were sticking, which used to happen to me as a little girl in Richmond, Virginia when the temperature sometimes hovered in the single digits—above or below zero degrees Fahrenheit.

  That hardly mattered once I saw the tracks. They moved across stone sculptures and a dormant marble fountain covered in ice and snow, as if the maker of the footprints was in too big of a hurry to step around the damned things. I was okay up until then, as far as honoring Chanson’s instructions to me. I could make it back to safety if it became necessary to flee danger. But then the tracks kept going, angling next to Huangtian Dadi’s sacred compound.

  “Ah, shit!” I hissed, pausing to consider the possible consequences I’d face for deviating from my cousin’s specific admonishment. The voice in my head reminded me that I had more than my own skin to look out for. By then, Chanson and Gustav had confirmed that my baby would be a girl. My daughter was utterly helpless and needed me to defer to her safety one hundred percent—my insatiable curiosity be damned!

  I reluctantly turned around and began to trudge back to the palace’s main building. But that’s when I heard voices. Children’s voices, and from my guess at least two of them…and they were whimpering.

  I stopped, concentrating harder while my heart raced.

  Then all at once, one of the voices started screaming.

  Call it stupidity if you must, or maybe a new mom’s instinct to protect someone young, as if the child were my own. Regardless, I ran to where the screams came from. It was just to the side of Huangtian Dadi’s secluded estate—his royalty’s splendid abode. As I approached, I saw a child. A little boy held a younger child that appeared to be a three-year old girl. They were both sobbing uncontrollably in the frigid sunlight while facing something thrashing around in a shadowed open pavilion.

  At first, all I saw were streams of crimson soaking into the snow. Then I saw the terribly mutilated body of a young woman, whose limbs and head had been torn viciously from her torso. They laid haphazardly upon the snow—some beneath the pavilion’s roof, and an arm and leg partially in the sunlight.

  I could only assume that this woman must be these poor children’s mother, and I felt profound despair for their loss. This whole scene was beyond horrible. My knees began to buckle, and my body felt drained of every ounce of energy and strength I had. But that was not the worst…the worst was the hungry demon feeding on the woman’s open torso, making terrible
sucking sounds as it fed on her bloody flesh and entrails.

  At first the monster didn’t see me, but when it did it snarled at me. I’m not talking about some lizard, as this monster was once a man, and now surely a vampire. A raging lunatic with gleaming red eyes and long fangs, the vampire could’ve passed for a brother of Xuanxang if not for the eye color. Holding the bleeding torso as if it were a mere pillow, he eyed me predatorily. I had somehow trespassed into a sacred realm…like a Yellowstone tourist stumbling upon a grizzly bear killing a deer for its cubs.

  He dropped the woman’s torso and roared at me, and I stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. The children shrieked in terror, clutching each other tightly. Meanwhile, the vampire stepped into the sunlight, but then howled in pain and shrunk back as if he had just stepped into a fiery furnace. Smoke rose from the seared flesh on his naked and bloodstained body.

  That gave me hope…maybe I could rescue the kids and get us all back inside the palace safely. What happened next, however, obliterated that notion completely.

  The vampire began to mutate. His powerful muscles expanded while sharp fins tore through his back and a pair of black horns grew from each side of his head. His skin began to peel away, revealing the gray scales I had witnessed earlier. But I had been too far away to distinguish the intricate snake-like patterns along the creature’s arms, legs, and the tail that dropped toward the ground from this monster’s backside. Not to mention the elongated snout that was forming along with an ever-widening mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth.

  I was so fucked.

  My feet felt like lead, as if secured to the icy ground I stood upon. But in the few moments before this thing finished its transformation, something inside me came to life. A voice that I heard so distinctly, and so powerfully, called to me. Perhaps the soul of my child to be? All I know is it told me to run!

  Run, now, Mommy!!

  From there it was a blur. Yet at the same time, I felt as if I was moving in slow motion. I couldn’t save the children, but then again, this thing wasn’t after them anyway. I ran as fast as I could, praying the God-given athleticism that made me a high-school star and earned me the athletic scholarship to UT was enough to save me right then.

  I threw open the back door to the palace, wondering ever so briefly why there were no day-time guards protecting the main building in the complex. I didn’t wait to close the door, and I sprinted down the corridor toward the front of the building. I had no intention of stopping or looking over my shoulder until I reached my room.

  Meanwhile, the door exploded behind me, and I heard the screams of more terrified children. The clicks and scrapes of sharp talons against the marble floor were all I needed to know this monster intended to pursue me until it held my trembling body within its mouth or claws.

  I scrambled up the stairs to the second floor just as my pursuer crashed through the reception area. It sounded as if I might have gained a few seconds on it, since I heard the snap of a table being broken and chairs launched into a wall. But before I made it to the stairs to the third floor, the fiend was racing across the second floor to catch me. It let out an even angrier screech, no doubt irritated that I hadn’t even bothered to turn around. Do that, and I might as well have said goodbye to life as I’ve known it.

  I had less than a twenty-foot lead when I made it to the third floor. If I’d bothered to lock my bedchamber’s door, I would’ve never made it to safety. Just before I reached the door, I felt the thing lunge itself at me, and part of my snowsuit was torn away as I slipped into my room. The angry vampire-turned-dragon fell to the ground, and before it could right itself to pursue me inside my bedchamber, I managed to get the door shut and locked using the bar bolt provided by our Chinese hosts. At least I knew then why it was needed.

  The creature on the door’s other side slammed its body repeatedly against the door, and it started to give. I had no idea what to do next, and dire panic rose rapidly within me. I sought to rouse my protectors from their deep, daily slumber, knocking loudly on every single casket. But they remained comatose as to what was going on.

  The door began to splinter. I cowered next to the last coffin in the row of five next to my bed to await my impending doom. It was the smallest one and belonged to Raquel. Just as the heavy wooden door fell into the room, and I saw the creature’s angry maw and open talons, the lid to her casket suddenly flew open and she sat up facing the doorway…screaming. Screaming a litany of chopped words and guttural sounds.

  She scared the holy shit out of me, and I was almost as frightened by her sudden appearance as I was the menace in our doorway. Her eyes were glowing blood red—unlike their usual lavender beauty—and her teeth looked a hell of a lot sharper than I remembered ever seeing—even from the side. Not to mention, her fangs looked especially elongated…so dangerous.

  I scurried under the table nearby, terribly frightened and unsure what to do next.

  But apparently whatever Raquel had uttered had some effect on the dragon. It was somehow prevented from crossing the threshold into our room. It howled angrily, but after being repulsed again and again, it slammed loudly against the wall facing the hall one last time and then I heard an immense crash from breaking glass.

  Having abruptly exited the palace via the immense window that faced the highest reaches of the Himalayas, the monster’s angry cries grew softer and softer as it ran away. When the cries finally grew faint and difficult to hear, my diminutive protector closed her mouth and eyes and laid back down inside her casket. I tentatively stood up and stole a peek into her daytime resting place. She looked so calm and peaceful, like an angel at rest.

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  Reign of Coins

  The Judas Chronicles, Book Two

  (Please read on for a sample)

  As I’m sure that most of you can imagine, I enjoyed a restless night, with almost no sleep. Not that the lack of sleep is normally an issue for me, as often I can go days on end without an extended rest period. But, whenever alcohol is involved, I actually do get tired enough to close my eyes for a ‘power nap’. Often, I get some great inspiration that way.

  Not that night. At least not right away….

  Instead, all of the possible mishaps related to my blown cover flitted before my mind’s eye as I lay in my bed, listening to Alistair’s light snores from his bedroom in our suite. It may sound strange, but I have always drawn comfort from his snoring, as I also did long ago from Beatrice. It’s as if a part of me is ever fearful that they could die at any moment, and a terror far greater than a violent death in my presence would be to find either one cold and lifeless in their beds the next morning.

  I tried to think about positive things, like the fact Alistair and I could now spend more leisure time together. Not long after he left his post at Georgetown, I decided to leave the Smithsonian. Granted, my coin research efforts would be impacted by the lack of field notes and artifacts to which only an archivist (or someone higher in the Institute) would have access. But, knowing my days of prowling in the bowels of the famed museum were numbered, this past February I began diligently transferring files from the archives to a small zip drive I carried with me. Once I figured out how to skirt around the Institute’s security clearances, I carefully focused my efforts on gathering all pertinent information regarding the last thirteen potential hot spots for where my final eight coins likely lay hidden.

  Of course, since we were presently in one of these places, my mood quickly spiraled down into despair. Looking for the coin that I was certain had traveled down through time and into the Cheung family’s possession was like searching for a needle in a haystack. I was clueless as to where to look next, now that the famed Cheung coin collection carried only untainted shekels.

  Making matters worse was the intrusion into my personal mental space of Ka
slow’s smug grin. My mind had drifted back to Caracas again…. I pictured him clearly as he watched me from less than fifty feet away. I had just finished replacing duplicate documents for the ones I lifted from a Belarus diplomat’s apartment in the city’s outskirts, and had stepped outside the building. While it isn’t unusual for those working covertly for their governments to sometimes catch a glimpse of one another in the field, it is very unusual to engage someone directly. Not unless it is with the intent to capture, interrogate, and dispose of such a person.

  Even from a safe distance, I could see a contemptuous leer upon his face—like he not only was letting me know that he knew what I had been up to inside the apartment, but that he intended to obliterate my efforts with glee. That recognition saved my existence as William Barrow, since I didn’t immediately see the rocket launcher Kaslow carried. But I sensed it. Sensed it lucidly in my mind’s eye, and quickly determined where I needed to dive for cover.

  In my Royal Garden bed, I now watched myself turning my head in horror toward the explosion behind me, as all five units in the 1920s building were destroyed. Several innocent people died, and I heard the screams of a woman and her child…and could do nothing for them. But innocent people always die when Viktor Kaslow is around. When I looked again to where he had stood, he’d already left the area, and the sound of a sedan speeding away was the only evidence he left behind.

  Unfortunately for me, my mind will forever carry the image of the late morning sunshine and raindrops from an earlier downpour dripping from the leaves of cecropia trees and a large palm near the building’s burning remains. That image, and of course, Kaslow’s youthful mug leering at me.

  Kaslow’s presence in my world had changed everything, as I’ve mentioned before. While staring into the darkness above my bed, I considered how easy life could be if Beatrice, Alistair, and I lived someplace else—maybe on a deserted island in the South Pacific. Of course, the reality that my beloved wife and son couldn’t manage without modern comforts nixed that fantasy in its infancy.