The Vampire s Secret

by Raven Hart

  Melaphia instructed her to kneel beneath the zenith of the pyramid and began to sprinkle some herbs onto her body. Connie put her hands together and joined Melaphia in a chant of some kind. I felt the rhythm and began to sway, propped there on my knees on the cold stone.

  The sun rose closer to the horizon and I became even more uncomfortable, but I couldn’t break away. I wanted to go to her and hold her perfect body next to mine until I was consumed by fire, burned as a sacrifice to the sun god she served. Burning to ash might just be worth it. How cursed I was to be a creature of the night when Connie was a child of the sun. Even though she roamed the night as a justice bringer, she clearly belonged to the light. The rays mixed with the natural bronze of Connie’s skin and made her look like the true goddess she was.

  The first few rays of the rising sun bathed the garden and everything in it with golden light. I could see her more clearly now, and it was worth the scorching pain on my face and neck. My gaze took her in all over again, starting at the top of her head, with her hair glinting blue-black, down to her delicately arched brows, wide cheekbones, cupid’s bow lips, and graceful neck.

  I sighed again at the sight of her breasts and the womanly curve of her hips. There was that damned birthmark, the one that had burned my hand and jolted me against the wall at Connie’s apartment. It seemed to soak up the rays of the morning sun and glow with its own fire. Melaphia saw it, too. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

  It was then I saw the only other flaw on Connie’s otherwise perfect body. A scar on her lower abdomen. I once had a girlfriend who’d had a scar like that, a smooth line I liked to run my tongue across. Strange—two women with the exact same scar. What had Wanda’s scar been from? Oh, my God. She’d called it…a cesarean section. I stared at it in wonder.

  Connie had a child.

  Six

  William

  On Thursday an invitation arrived for a winter gathering on Friday evening at the Granger house. My old friend Tilly was always good for a party, although she rarely went out these days. As she neared a hundred years, age had slowed her down a bit, but it didn’t prevent her from inviting company to her mansion on Orleans Square. The fact that the invitation gave little notice fit her habits as well. Tilly was determined to live in the day and not plan too far into the future.

  After last evening’s lessons and cautions, I was heartily tired of voodoo rules and rituals. It was time for me and my household to get back to normal life for a change.

  Well, as normal as immortal blood drinkers could claim to be. I’d had Eleanor all to myself until Melaphia interfered with her lists and orders. Now I wanted to show my new protégée off to the world, to prepare her for a larger circle of community and the rapidly approaching meeting of more vampires than had gathered in one city since my arrival in the New World.

  Tilly’s get-together would present the perfect opportunity.

  Although not in the same league as the English Ton, the so-called high-society ladies of Savannah might not approve of Eleanor. But when she was sponsored by my money and influence, and Tilly’s invitation, they could not refuse her. The whole thing would be a grand distraction from our true business. We had only a few days until the first representatives of the New World vampires arrived.

  “But William, what should I wear?” Eleanor seemed unusually rattled by Tilly’s surprise party.

  “You looked beautiful the night of the charity ball.”

  “That’s back when I had clothes. Almost everything I owned burned in the fire.”

  I’d forgotten about that. I’d been unconcerned about replacing her clothes, since I preferred her naked. “We’ll buy you new ones,” I offered. “Whatever you like.”

  “But how can I go into a store and try on clothes?”

  When I didn’t respond, she took my arm and pulled me into the bathroom. The absence of any reflection in the mirror made her point.

  “I never realized how much I’d miss my reflection.” She shook her head and turned in my arms. “We don’t have time to shop on the Internet. If you must, you go. I’d better stay home.”

  I was determined to keep anything else from coming between us, even for a few hours. “I’ll take care of it.”

  It really wasn’t that difficult. Humans are used to eccentricities in the wealthy. Besides, my odd reputation preceded me in everything I did. So when I called Taylor and Wright, one of the most exclusive boutiques in the city, and asked for a private shopping session after hours, they were quick to agree. I’d read that many current celebrities demanded special treatment. If someone called Puffy or Paris could be accommodated, then certainly we could. I went full out and ordered the limo brought into service, driven by Chandler, my plantation caretaker. Presentation is half the battle when impressing humans. Money is the other half.

  This would be an adventure.

  Eleanor was still nervous when we pulled up in front of the shop. “But what if they can tell something is wrong with us?”

  I cupped her cheek with my hand. “First of all—” I held her gaze. “—there is nothing whatsoever wrong with you. You are magnificent. Second, I’ve taken care of the mirror problem.”

  “But—”

  “You’ll see. Now, let’s shop, shall we?”

  Chandler opened the limo door and we moved toward the distinguished man waiting at the front entrance.

  He held the door open for us. “So, good to see you this evening, Mr. Thorne, and Miss—”

  “Dubois,” I said.

  He introduced himself. “I’m Mr. Cornelius, the manager.” As we followed him through the semi-darkened store to the designer area, he continued, “I’ve had several items brought out in the size Mr. Thorne mentioned. They are in the fitting room. And we’ve taken care of the other matter.”

  Eleanor gripped my hand. I had to smile.

  When we arrived at the well-lit portion of the store, Eleanor stopped. It wasn’t the rack of clothes or the two saleswomen that caught her attention; it was the fact that every mirror in the vicinity had been covered.

  “How did you do this?” Eleanor whispered.

  I leaned close to her ear. “Oh, I told them you hated mirrors, and that you were sure those fitting room mirrors made you look ten pounds heavier.”

  “You didn’t!” She laughed.

  I shrugged. “It’s in their best interests to please you. Isn’t that right, Mr. Cornelius?”

  “Absolutely.” He smiled. “Ladies?”

  That was the cue for the sales staff to descend on Eleanor. The moderns of today talk of “shopping until dropping” or something to that effect. If they only knew that in the past, a new wardrobe could take hours to fit and weeks to complete—perhaps then they wouldn’t complain. The past did hold certain advantages, though, one being that, with enough profit on the table, a tailor or seamstress would take up residence in a customer’s house if necessary.

  I found a comfortable seat and watched as my Eleanor was transformed.

  Three hours later, as Chandler loaded the purchases into the limo, I shook Mr. Cornelius’s hand. I doubt he even noticed the chill of my skin after availing himself of my black AmEx card. Centuries might come and go, but human business remained the same.

  As I helped Eleanor into the car, one of my associates stepped out of the shadows.

  “Sorry—uh, excuse me—” Werm glanced from me to Mr. Cornelius. With the intuition of an expert in customer service, Mr. Cornelius controlled his reaction. But he didn’t look happy. I suppose he thought we were about to be attacked by a gang of street urchins.

  “Don’t worry. This is a…friend.” I soothed Cornelius’s mind. “He’s…in the music business.” He nodded and turned his thoughts back to counting his receipts for the evening, as though what I’d said made perfect sense.

  “The music business?” Werm repeated when the store manager was out of range.

  “How else am I supposed to explain your appearance? Do you own any clothes that aren’
t black and full of holes?”

  Werm looked down at his attire. “I guess that music thing is cool.” He smiled.

  “Thank you. Now why are you here?”

  The smile disappeared. “Oh, Melaphia called me on my cell and sent me to find you. Actually, her words were something like, Get your scrawny extrawhite butt over to—”

  I held up a hand to stop him. “And she’s looking for me because…?”

  “She said some of your guests have arrived. They’re at someplace called the plantation.”

  “Get in.”

  When Werm made a move to slide into the car next to Eleanor, I grabbed a handful of his shirt and shoved him toward the front. Once we were settled and the car was in motion, I gave him the opportunity to enlighten me.

  “Did Melaphia say who had arrived?”

  “Nope.”

  “Where is Jack?”

  “He’s, um, last time I saw him he was at the garage,” he answered. His gaze drifted from me to Eleanor, who was decked out in a short, derriere-hugging skirt and some sort of silk knitted top. He turned transparent at the edges. Another swain smitten. If he’d been closer I would’ve shaken him until his brand-new fangs rattled.

  This was getting us nowhere. “Chandler,” I said to the driver. “Drop Lamar at—”

  “Can’t I go with you? I want to meet the new vamps in town. What if some of them are”—his gaze shifted back to Eleanor—“girls?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but as far as I’m aware there will be no immortal females in the group. And you will meet them,” I said. “But not tonight. Now where do we drop you?”

  He looked out the window at the passing houses. “Club Nine, I guess. Maybe I can find that new friend of mine.”

  “Drop Lamar at Club Nine, then take us out to the plantation,” I said.

  “You’re early,” I remarked as I embraced Iban.

  “Yes, well, I have my reasons.” He turned to the human next to him. “This is Sullivan, my production assistant.”

  I greeted Sullivan. Human or not, if Iban trusted him I would as well. “Welcome to my home.”

  Then I introduced Eleanor.

  “I believe we met on my last visit,” Iban said, bowing, then raising Eleanor’s hand to kiss her knuckles. “But I see many things have changed since then. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” The gleam in his eyes was a little too warm for my taste. He wagged his eyebrows at me before turning to lead Eleanor to a seat in the living room.

  I intercepted them. Removing Eleanor’s hand from Iban’s, I said, “You can take the man off the Continent but you can’t take the Continental rake out of the man.”

  Iban laughed. “I hope I haven’t offended,” he said. “Ah, but you’ve always had an eye for beauty, my friend. I’m pleased to see you looking so well. Your new life agrees with you, yes?”

  I met Eleanor’s gaze as I settled her onto the couch. She smiled. “Yes,” I answered. “It does. Now, sit down and tell me your news.”

  Chandler served drinks as Iban filled me in on those he left behind in California.

  “We’ve put the word out and are keeping our movements to a minimum until we determine the actual threat to you. If need be, we can have upward of twenty in Savannah within hours.”

  “What about your ranch in Marin? It’s the most obvious way to find you.”

  Iban chuckled. “Ah, yes. But the ranch is being guarded well. Not only by my offspring but also by my fans. There are many who consider my movies the ultimate communication from another species.”

  “Don’t tell me. They want to become vampires, right?”

  “Some of them think they already are,” Sullivan added. “There’s a motorcycle group called the Midnight Riders. We used them in the movie Sun and Moon back in 2000. Ever since then, they’ve made it their mission to make sure Iban has anything he needs.”

  “And several things I don’t need.” Iban tsked and made a dismissive motion with his hand. “A gentleman simply cannot accept the kinds of…female gifts they offer on a regular basis. I propose that if I, pardon the expression, slept with every beautiful young woman they brought to my gate, I’d be a mere shadow of the vampire I am today.

  “But enough about me,” Iban went on. “What have you heard from the others?”

  “I’m in communication with all but one of the colonies in North America. The representatives are on their way. By Saturday evening, we should have a quorum.”

  “And what of your sire?”

  I thought of Reedrek twirling in demon hell and could almost hear the screams of his furious fear. If I’d thought him dangerous before, he would be doubly so if he ever escaped his well-hidden tomb. “He’s exactly where we put him. As Jack would say, he’s dead without the possibility of parole.”

  “Do we know anything of those we may have to face?”

  “Olivia has promised a report on Saturday via satellite. She says she has a spy among one of the more remote clans. One that had some ties with Reedrek.”

  “Ugh.” Iban put down his half-empty glass of blood. “Even his name puts me off my refreshment. I have my own sire to defy.”

  Iban fell silent and I knew he was thinking of the past and some of the horrible things that had been done to him in the name of his sire, Thanatos.

  “One battle at a time, my friend. Remember, we have allies in each other. None of us wishes to return to the bitter past. Our future remains here.”

  “Better to burn in hell than deal with Thanatos.” After a moment of silence, Iban worked to shake off his dark thoughts. He smiled at Eleanor. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to spoil the evening and our reunion with sinister business.” He looked at me. “And where is Jack? I wanted Sullivan to meet him.”

  Jack

  I raced back to the garage right after sundown to see what Melaphia had been able to do with Huey. Her skill with manipulating the dead would make all the difference to Huey’s future. I’d had a lot of time to think while I was tossing and turning in my box trying to sleep. Putting him back in the ground was a nonstarter. I mean, he was already dead, but reanimated. Burying him that way would be too gruesome even for me. And that’s saying something.

  There weren’t too many good options. He’d make a helluva sideshow act, but I didn’t even know if there were any sideshows in this day and time. Besides, he didn’t like to travel. I suppose I could pay somebody desperate enough to take him off my hands. Maybe some poor family would be willing to put him up in the attic and call him their crazy uncle Huey. Crazy, smelly Uncle Huey.

  I roared into an open bay and hopped out of the ’Vette. Rennie and the irregulars were standing around Huey, who sat calmly in a clean pair of coveralls. He was eating raw hamburger with a plastic spoon out of an old Tupperware container. I went around to face him, hoping for the best.

  “Okay, boys,” I said. “Is this wishful thinking on my part or does he look a lot better than last night?”

  “His skin tone looks a lot more natural,” Otis said. “Instead of being greenish gray, he just looks sallow, kind of jaundiced, like.”

  I didn’t know Otis even knew the word, but jaundiced was a lot better than putrid. I’d take jaundiced any day of the week. “What about you, Rennie? Think he’ll pass for warm-blooded?”

  Rennie adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, studying Huey carefully. “I was still here this morning when Melaphia came in and got to work on him. She took some nylon thread and sewed his flesh back together in places, so he’s got a Frankenstein thing going on, but it’s not too bad. She had all these roots and twigs and herbs and things that she sprinkled on him and then she chanted some and even danced a little. Before I knew it, he stopped stinking and kind of tightened up. The best part is, she says she thinks she’s got it fixed where he won’t decay any more than he already has.”

  “Wasn’t there anything she could do for that there eyeball?” Rufus asked. Huey’s eyes still looked like they belonged to one of those lizards that can look in severa
l different directions at once.

  “I reckon not,” Rennie said.

  “I could take a go at it,” Jerry offered. “I took a mail order course in taxidermy one time. I’ve got some eight-pound test line in the truck, and if somebody can find a needle, I can try to—”

  I held up my hand. “Huey’s been through enough in the last twenty-four hours without throwing amateur eyeball surgery into the bargain. What do you think, Rennie? Is it okay with you if he comes back to work?”

  “Fine with me,” Rennie said. “I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t chow down on any customers.”

  It was decided that we would lock Huey in the garage during the day with all the raw meat he was likely to need and a cot in one of the oil pits to sleep on. I kind of liked the idea of him being there. It was the next best thing to having a guard dog. Let William have his prancy puppies. I had me a zombie that could match ’em pound for pound for loyalty, with opposable thumbs thrown into the bargain.

  Satisfied, the irregulars migrated back to the card table and sat down to their game. I heaved a mammoth sigh of relief. Mel had saved my bacon. Again.

  Huey belched loudly. “Anybody got any ketchup?”

  Somewhere around midnight I was changing a timing belt in a Dodge Caravan when I heard a familiar voice call my name in an aristocratic Spanish accent.

  “Iban! You old dog,” I said, wiping the grease off my hands with a shop rag. He grinned and walked into the garage, followed by a human guy I’d never seen before. The irregulars kept to their card game, assuming the two men were customers.

  I clapped Iban on the back and shook his hand. Iban was my favorite of William’s imported European vamps. Even though he was richer than God just like the others, he had always treated me as an equal and never put on airs. He was good people. “You’re a day or two early for the meeting, aren’t you?”