The Vampire s Secret

by Raven Hart

  “I spoke with Gerard just now,” he said. “Probably while you were on the way over here.” Jack, leave us. William closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he’d plastered a pleasant smile on his face. It was an effort, you could tell. He bent down to speak to Renee. “Hello, darling,” he said to her, taking her face briefly in his hands. “I haven’t seen you in many nights. I do believe you’ve grown a foot.”

  Renee giggled and planted a kiss on his cheek. “No, not that much,” she said. “It hasn’t been long, anyway. It’s been less than a week.”

  “It only seems long,” William murmured.

  “When your company goes home can we go night-walking?”

  “If it’s not on a school night, yes. But right now, I want you to go with your uncle Jack. I have to speak to your mother.”

  “Okay,” she said, and took me by the hand. The warm grip of her tiny hand on my cold fingers made me want to weep, I was so afraid for her. I felt that the cozy little world we’d created for her was teetering on the edge of an abyss. I led her toward the card table, leaving William and Melaphia to huddle together.

  Renee said she’d already met Sullivan, who forced a smile and wave for her and resumed his pacing. Will appeared in front of us by the time we reached the table. “Well, hello, love. Aren’t you the little beauty, then?” The vampire gave her a dazzling smile, without a hint of fang. His cheeks displayed impressive dimples below strong cheekbones.

  Could this guy turn on the charm or what? Renee released my hand, beaming. I was afraid for a minute that she might jump into his arms. She’d never been taught to be afraid of vampires, though she could recognize them as well as I could. “This is Will,” I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. There was no sense scaring her now. I knew as well as I knew my own name that as soon as they left this building, William would tell Will in no uncertain terms that Melaphia and her daughter were not to be harmed.

  “Do you know how to play Old Maid with regular cards?” Renee asked Will.

  “No, but I’ll wager you could teach me.” Will sat in the chair opposite Renee, who began gathering up the cards.

  Every instinct told me to haul Will up by the scruff of his neck and kick his ass out, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt her right here in front of God and everybody. Still, my hands twitched with the need to get him out of Renee’s sight. I forced down the urge to kill and instead got the spare cell phone out of my back pocket and stepped away from the table, leaving them to their game.

  I called a buddy of mine who contracted with me to maintain his fleet of limousines. He was delighted to send one to the docks in the middle of the night for double his usual rate. He was cool with sending a truck for the coffins, too, when I told him they were expensive antiques. When enough money changed hands, people didn’t ask a lot of questions.

  I next dialed Werm’s cell phone. “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Where are you?”

  “At home, just like you told me. What’s going on?”

  “I need you to go out to that boat where Hugo’s people are staying. I have a circle of spirits around it to keep them put, but William’s got the situation covered, so I want you to go and release them. Humans are coming to move the tourists and I don’t want to scare the crap out of ’em.”

  “How do I release them? I don’t have your way with the dead.”

  “Say a prayer to Legba. Thank him very kindly, offer him a bottle of that expensive wine in your old man’s wine cellar, and tell him to send the haints home.”

  “Uh, I don’t know, Jack. Sounds kinda scary.”

  “Buck up, badass! Be a vampire! Besides, there’s a reward.”

  “What?” Now I had his attention.

  I sighed, exasperated. “If you do that for me, you have my permission to prey on humans. Not to kill them. Just to drink from them until you hear the heartbeat, like I’ve explained. And then seal the wound. Got it?”

  “Yeah, you bet!” I could hear the excitement in his voice. “There’s a couple of guys over at the mall I’d like to scare. I’ll check in with you later.” I hung up. Satan save me from fledgling vampires.

  After I spoke to Werm, I called William’s number and Deylaud answered.

  “William wants two of the visitors put up at the plantation. I need you to send a load of blood out there.”

  “Do you want me to send the good stuff?” he asked dutifully.

  “Hell, no,” I said. “Make it bovine or even swine. No human.” It could be rat plasma for all I cared.

  “Got it. Anything else?”

  “I guess that’ll do it.”

  Deylaud hesitated. “I take it William is there?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s…fine.”

  “Thank Isis,” Deylaud said. “It’s been tense here.”

  “Yeah? Tell me.”

  “Gerard had a conversation with Melaphia right before she left with Renee. It became rather heated.”

  William and Mel talked in the far corner of the garage. Her back was to me, but I could pick up on her anguish even from a distance. William, who was facing me, looked ill.

  “What was it about?”

  “I couldn’t hear.” There was a peevish tone to Deylaud’s voice.

  “With your hearing?”

  “I was banished belowstairs so they could talk privately. I could hear the distress in her voice, but not much else. It has something to do with the virus, though.”

  “Thanks, pal,” I said, also silently thanking whatever powers that be that Deylaud loved me almost as much as he loved William. “As soon as all this blows over, I’m buying you a steak dinner.”

  “I accept,” he said, and we both hung up.

  I glanced over toward the kitchen just in time to see Melaphia jerk away from William when he tried to lay a fatherly hand on her shoulder. What the hell? In the other direction I was treated to the sight of Will making a funny face at Renee, then covering his face with his splayed hand of cards, sending her into peals of giggles. The sight of the tyke playing peekaboo with a monster made me want to put my fist into something. Then there was Sullivan, who in the worst-case scenario might hold all the cards where Connie’s fate was concerned. How much worse could all this get?

  “So do these ‘donors’ suit your palate?” Lucius had turned up his nose at the usual easy pickings in the city—that is to say, the tunnel denizens and other street people within the city limits. There are always more in the wintertime. They come south with the birds. He also nixed the club scene, as near as I could figure because there were a lot of students from the Savannah College of Art and Design and he was giving them some kind of professional courtesy, him being an art dealer and all.

  I had taken him out to a suburban twenty-four-hour Wal-Mart so he could have his pick from all walks of life. Everybody from society people to day laborers went to Wal-Mart. But I’d told him if he picked anybody wearing a NASCAR T-shirt or hat, him and me were going to mix it up. I had professional courtesies of my own.

  “I must admit, this is an interesting cultural mix,” Lucius said, watching a well-dressed woman leave the store with nothing but a bottle of wine and get into a Lexus. I slouched against a Coke machine with a life-size picture of Little E in his number 8 uniform emblazoned on it.

  “Yeah, well, there ya are,” I responded. It had been a while since I’d hunted humans. I’d be lying to you if I said the anticipation wasn’t getting to me. There’s nothing like human blood, fresh and warm from a still-living mortal body. My fangs began to slowly extend.

  “I just wish I knew more about the intentions of Hugo and his clan.”

  That remark seemed to come right out of left field. He was on a fishing expedition, trying to see if there was something I wasn’t telling him. A teenage lovely sashayed up to put some coins in the machine. I gave her a wink and she grinned with plump, young lips smeared with glittery gloss. My fangs ached. I watched her walk away with something like longing. I’d get the n
ext one, I told myself. That one was just too sweet to blemish.

  Lucius was looking at me expectantly. “I’ve been around a long time, Jack, and I have only the best interests of us all at heart. It must be quite a burden being William’s right hand. Why don’t you let me help?”

  Damned if this guy wasn’t working me. I guess he was trying some kind of enthrallment to make me want to tell him about Diana and Will. Suddenly the idea of unburdening myself seemed as comforting as the thought of climbing onto a fluffy cloud for a day of rest. This guy was good. But, hey, just because he was working mojo on me didn’t mean telling him wasn’t a good idea. I mean, maybe he could help.

  No! I shook myself and concentrated on letting the voodoo blood protect me from the older vamp’s mind skills.

  “What’s the secret, Jack? What are you keeping from me?”

  I took a deep breath and looked around for a distraction. And along it came.

  Another young lovely approached the Coke machine.

  “Feed, Jack, we’ll discuss this later,” Lucius whispered and slipped into the shadows to bite down on his own meal.

  I leaned my head on the machine and watched the young brunette fish in her jeans pocket for change. She looked up at me expectantly and batted her blue-shadowed eyes.

  “You want a drink, sugar?” I drawled.

  She nodded coquettishly. I touched the machine and a can came rolling out. The Fonz had nothin’ on old Uncle Jack.

  She bent to take it, but I pulled her toward me and kissed her before she could pop the top. The taste of strawberry lip gloss registered, as did the softness of her skin and the smell of her apricot shampoo. “I’m a little parched myself,” I said. She swooned in my arms and moaned as my lips moved to her throat. To the casual observer, we simply looked like two young people in lust, making out in the shadows beside the drink machine.

  This won’t hurt a bit, darlin’, I whispered to her mind. You’ll be as good as new in just a little while.

  Her body stiffened only a little as my fangs sank into her jugular. I lifted her off her feet and pressed her to me as I fed, enjoying the feel of her small breasts against my chest, cupping her round bottom in my other hand. When her pulse began to pound in my ears, I forced myself to stop though Satan knows I didn’t want to. I wanted to drink and drink until there was no more hunger.

  But I did stop. And I sealed the wound with my super-duper vampire spit as William had taught me so many human lifetimes ago. I would feed on a couple more humans tonight, taking no more blood from any of them than they would miss. I carried the teenager deeper into the shadows where there was a small coin-operated pony ride. The kind where you sit your toddler on the pony and put in a coin. In wintertime it had been deserted for the warmth of the store. I sat the unconscious girl on the pony, crossed her arms over its plastic mane, and rested her head on her arms. There were plenty of shoppers in the parking lot. She’d no doubt be found before too long.

  I smoothed her hair with one hand, straightened her coat around her, and went off to find my next victim.

  William

  Will slouched in the front seat of my brand-new Mercedes with his scuffed boot propped on the burled wood dash. Even Jack, with his unpolished manners, wouldn’t have treated a beautiful machine in such a cavalier way. “I’m starving,” Will said, followed by a dramatic sigh. “Bloody hell! Are we gonna drive around all bleedin’ night?”

  “Not that you have any say in the matter, but we’re headed south, out of Savannah. I have no intention of opening hunting season on every human in my city.” The hypocritical words pricked at the chip of stone in my chest, formerly my heart. I myself had just wreaked such havoc. I pushed the ugly image away. What I did in my city was my business. What I allowed strangers to do became another matter entirely. And this new incarnation of my son was definitely a stranger.

  “Your city?” Will chuckled. “We do have fuckin’ delusions of grandeur, don’t we?”

  I let the comment pass for two reasons: One, I was not about to allow Will to bait me into a fight, verbal or otherwise, and two, he was right. I certainly did have a delusion of grandeur, and the myriad of problems riding the coattails of that particular personality trait. Problems such as feeling the need to convince Melaphia that Gerard was right and she must allow Iban to feed on her undiluted voodoo blood to survive. That she had to do it for our sake…for my sake.

  She’d come to Jack’s place of business looking for me with hopes I’d refuse to allow such a ghastly thing to occur. Instead, I’d practically ordered her to comply. The horrible image planted in my mind of Iban’s rotting face and Melaphia’s smooth, unblemished skin made my own gorge rise. I had to believe in Lalee’s bloodline even if it meant losing Melaphia’s love. Lalee had saved us all too many times in the past.

  Out of self-preservation I sent my mind down different avenues and turned to my son. “Tell me about Hugo. He seems a rather grandiose fellow himself.”

  Will’s expression shifted to neutral. If I hadn’t been driving the car I would have pressed him about schooling his features. The obvious effort was a dead giveaway of his hidden intentions and hard information. “He’s—” He cut himself off before grinning at me with a show of fang. “I’m sure you’ll get to know him better in time.”

  “And what of your lady mother?”

  That killed the grin. He turned his face away, watching the passing lights, then drew a piece of gold from his pocket. A ring. He tumbled it between his hands for a moment before slipping it onto one of his fingers. Staring down at it, he said in a reverent voice, “She’s an angel.” He looked at me again. “Touch her and you’ll find out more about Hugo than you ever wanted to know. Right before he kills you.”

  I chuckled but it sounded hollow. Not because Hugo frightened me—I’d fallen well past the level of caring for life. But because Will had such confidence in his so-called father’s ability to protect my wife from me with violence. “And you’re so sure he would best me?”

  I expected more bravado. What I got was what truly sounded like a warning. “Hugo takes what he wants, twice his share, and skewers anyone in his way.” A moment of silence passed before Will regained his own belligerent composure. “Do I have to have a go at you m’self before you stop this car? I get rather bitchy on an empty belly.”

  “Tell me about your making.”

  “Bloody hell!” He dropped his head back and growled at the roof between him and the night.

  “I’m taking you to a pleasant little spot on St. Simons Island. We’ll be another hour. Tell me and I’ll let you hunt to your belly’s content.”

  He was silent for a good five minutes. I schooled my own features and waited.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked. “I’m sure you know the process. Although looking at your son Jack, pardon if I doubt your taste in victims.”

  “Jack isn’t my son.”

  “Oh, well, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy about him.”

  “And he’s nobody’s victim,” I added. Those words seemed to pique his interest.

  “Really? You mean that stupid git wanted to be damned?”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “I suppose I did, but I had my reasons.” He twirled the ring on his finger, fidgeting.

  I made a show of settling myself more solidly behind the wheel, giving him time to compose his thoughts. Then I said, “Go on.”

  “Not much to tell. Mainly, I remember being cold. Shivering till I thought my fuckin’ bones would freeze and break like dead sticks.”

  “Were you in England?”

  “No, I was—” Will stopped himself and gave me a cautious sideways glance. “I was with my mother.”

  “Not in England, then.”

  “No. We were weeks—traveling. I don’t know where we were.” He was staring out of the side window again, arms crossed as if he could still feel the cold.

  “And then you met Hugo.”

  His fingers tightened. “Yes, then I m
et Hugo,” he singsonged before falling silent. It took longer this time before he turned the tables. “Why are you so curious about how I was made? It won’t help you, you know.”

  “Help me with what?”

  “Knowing about me won’t keep you safe.” He grinned that terrible insolent, fangy grin. “It’s rather a good joke that he sent me with you as a hostage. I’m only his sharpest tool. Hugo doesn’t love me.” He put back his head and howled like a red Indian, then rocked in the seat with such strength I had to tighten my grip on the wheel to stay in control of the car. The cross-shaped scar on his throat seemed to stretch and grow like fingers in a choking grip. “He can’t kill me, though. But he’s hoping you’ll do it for him.” He stilled, turning to me, his face and neck flushed with blood. “You can try if you like—to kill me.” When I didn’t answer he shrugged again. He gave up explaining and began to fiddle with the car radio. Soon a god-awful racket assaulted our ears. “You know?” he shouted over the din. “If I don’t die tonight, I might just like living in America.”

  The club on St. Simons was small even by Savannah standards, more the size of a restaurant bar than a dance club. And patrons were sparse; in winter only a small number of full-time residents remained on the island. Taking to the hunt, Will slid onto a bar stool at one end of the room. I chose a table in an opposite corner with my back to the wall and watched as he went about his business.

  In a short time two men farther down the bar had moved closer to take seats on either side of him. The three of them could have passed for bored fraternity brothers trying to escape a winter session of school, except for Will’s un-orthodox clothing. The two men seemed to find him more interesting than threatening and were soon laughing and buying a second round of drinks. I, on the other hand, stayed busy resisting the attentions of an overly solicitous cocktail waitress. She either sensed the extent of my finances or she was drawn to the predator in me. Moths seldom understand the danger of the flame until those last few seconds of flaring pain. I needed to feed as much as Will did but it would be rather awkward to empty the bar of its patrons and its help.