The Vampire s Secret

by Raven Hart

  She shook her head. “I guess I’m a little out of sorts.”

  I hated for any ugliness to intrude on Renee’s peace of mind. Her little-girl world should be all about frilly dresses, pink hair bows, candy canes, and giggles. Instead she was in the middle of a vampire war. It made me unspeakably sad. Add that to what I’d just gone through with Connie and what I had to look forward to when I evened the score with Will whether William liked it or not, and I couldn’t remember ever being so hopeless.

  “You look like you’re out of sorts, too, Uncle Jack,” Renee said, and took a sip of the milk. “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember the lady in the white-and-gold dress you met at the party?”

  “The lady police? You like her a lot, don’t you?”

  “That’s the one, and, yes, I do. But she found out I’m a vampire tonight, and I’m afraid she doesn’t like me anymore. She says I’m not real.”

  “Not real?” Renee set down the glass and looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

  “That’s what she said,” I confirmed. This had to be the lowest I’d sunk in my lonely life—discussing my love life with a child.

  Renee got up from the table and went to her bookshelf. As meticulous as her mentor, William, she went right to the book she wanted. I’m sure they were sorted by author and title. She slid the book off the shelf, walked over to me, and took me by the hand. She led me to the rocking chair on the other side of the room, and when I sat, she crawled into my lap. It had been a long time since she’d sat in my lap. She was getting to be a big girl now, and I had supposed sadly that she thought she was too old for such things.

  “The Velveteen Rabbit,” I said, looking at the book’s tattered cover. “That’s a good one.”

  “This is a special book,” she said. “I want to read you this one very important page.”

  “I’m all ears.” I cuddled her in my arms as she carefully turned the pages. The top of her head fit just under my chin. Her hair was as soft as cotton candy.

  “Here it is,” she said. “It’s the part where the Velveteen Rabbit asks the Skin Horse what it means to be real.” She began to read.

  “It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

  Renee shut the book and twisted around to look up at me. “I love you, Uncle Jack,” she said. “So that makes you real.”

  “Thank you, baby,” I said. “I love you, too.” I took the book from her and laid it gently on the floor. Then I rocked the little girl who made me real until she went back to sleep.

  Fifteen

  William

  It took both Diana and me—she on one side, I on the other—to drag Hugo downstairs to a sleeping coffin. Gerard had gone back to my house in town with the intention of working through the day on the plague vaccine. Diana had surprised me with her concern for someone she’d so recently done her best to kill. As we stood over Hugo’s damaged but healing body I put my wonder into words. “It’s almost dawn. We could have just as easily dragged him outside to greet the sun and finish what you started.”

  Hugo grunted, looking up at us with an unreadable expression on his ruined face. Diana reached in to smooth his hair away from one particularly angry gash over his cheekbone.

  She spoke to me first. “No quick death for him. If Will dies from this treachery, Hugo and I will have many more things to discuss before I pour this so-called plague down his throat. No cure, indeed.” Then to Hugo she said, “We’ll have a fine time, won’t we, dear heart?”

  I might’ve been jealous of the endearment if it hadn’t been so laden with venom. She glanced at me as though to reinforce my position as bystander, then, without waiting for an answer, closed the coffin on her lover.

  On the way back upstairs to Will’s sickroom, I took her arm, the familiarity as natural as breathing. This crossroads of memory and present was enough to boggle the mind of a sane man, and mine had been teetering on the brink for several hundred years. How was I to tell the real from the imagined…or worse, the remembered?

  Will had fallen into a fitful sleep. He’d not yet begun to rot as noticeably as Iban had, but I knew it was only a matter of time. At this point, his handsome face was doughy with a greenish cast. I watched my wife fuss with the bed covers over my son, both lost to me for so many lifetimes, and my tongue could not stay still.

  “Why didn’t you contact me?” I had to know, even if the answer broke what remained of my splintered heart. “I would have come for you.”

  She looked at me then, some surprise in her gaze. “I would ask you the same.”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “Didn’t you, then?” She tilted her head and I felt the wispy touch of her mind reaching out to mine. She thought I was lying. I opened my mind briefly, allowing her to probe the grief I’d felt at losing her. She sighed and shook her head.

  “Reedrek used to visit us often,” she went on. “He told me about your conquests, your strength. He said with an entire world of open thighs at your disposal, you didn’t want me anymore.”

  Reedrek ruining my life in yet another way. Somehow I’d hoped to overcome Reedrek’s lies. I had the urge to free him from his hidden tomb of a prison and kill him outright. But killing him quick would be a mercy; even my accidentally freezing him into stone must have been a relief from his suffering. The last thing I would ever offer Reedrek was relief or mercy.

  “He lied,” I said.

  “As simple as that?”

  “Yes, as simple and as traitorous. He swore he would allow you and Will to live if I became his monster. Then I had to watch him kill you. I would’ve traded my soul all over again for you if I’d known you survived.”

  Still unsure, she ignored my declaration. “The only part of you I managed to keep is Will.” She gazed down at our suffering son. “Hugo could not refuse me. And when the time came, Will chose to live as I do.” She glanced at me. “As we do.”

  “He doesn’t seem excessively happy with his choice. He informed me that Hugo hoped I would kill him. Will himself didn’t seem to care one way or the other.”

  Diana’s features hardened. “Hugo is like any male lion who takes over a pride. He wants to eat the young. His condition for making Will was my promise to never tell my son about his real father.

  “I should never have agreed. I wasn’t as strong then, and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing Will after losing you.” She gazed at me as though she was looking across the years. “Never in our world is a very long time.”

  I couldn’t argue with her about that.

  “Then you know what I’ve lived with—thinking I’d never have you again. Never know the man Will would become.” I moved closer to her, forcing her to look up to meet my eyes. “Have you missed me at all?” I asked, crowding in on her. She would have to step backward to get away.

  She placed a hand on my chest but didn’t push.

  “Even a little?” I whispered, leaning close to her mouth.

  Her chin came up until our breath was mingled, lips almost touching. But still she didn’t reply.

  Warming to the game, I stayed close. “Answer, or you’ll have none of me.”

  I felt more than saw her draw in a breath. Indignation? Desire? Anger? I had no way to know. I sent a tendril of memory from my mind to hers: a kiss shared five hundred years before. The melding of a husband and a wife. I could feel the liquid fire of her sexual power flow into me. Female vampires grow stronger from sex, sucking power from their male partners in return for ultimate pleasure for both. The depth of Diana’s well of passion reminded me that she and Hugo had been building sexual
bonds for as long as we both had been soulless. Her capabilities for pleasure and pain were far stronger than I’d ever experienced.

  Some inner voice whispered, Danger.

  “Yes…” she breathed into my mouth. Her hand rose to the back of my neck, pulling me down, dragging my lips to hers. The pleasure, however, was fleeting.

  Will, as though he’d sensed the shift in her attention, moaned and pushed down the covers.

  Her mouth retreated. “Our son—” she mumbled. I could feel her confusion. Then Diana, like any doting mother, tucked the blanket back around Will. “What is this…plague your friend Gerard found in Will?”

  The change of subject forced me to collect myself. Her withdrawal had affected me more than I liked. At first, I thought better of scaring her with the truth, but then I remembered her attack on Hugo. She was no wilting flower who needed anyone’s protection. In a few passing seconds of thought, we’d become strangers again. “It’s something we’ve never seen before, a creeping rot that eats a body from the inside out.”

  “But our bodies heal—”

  “Not from this. It takes longer for us to die, yet die we will, if left untreated.”

  “What is the treatment?”

  I saw a potential trap. In reality I suppose I didn’t trust her any more than she trusted me. I kept all thought of Melaphia out of my head and told a half-truth. “Gerard is a geneticist. He’s working on a vaccine but doesn’t know how long it will take or if it’ll work.”

  “Then he’s seen this before? In California?”

  “Yes, thanks to your—” The scene in my own bath suite flashed into my brain. “—your lover. He knows more than he’s told us. He immediately recognized the danger.”

  She frowned. “If he knows, then I’ll know in short order. I’ve been remiss in not paying attention to his plots with Reedrek. In truth, I didn’t care as long as I had Will.” She looked down at him. “I’ve been a fool—but no more.” Her gaze met mine. “No more.”

  Plots with Reedrek. I remembered the warnings Reedrek had given me about Hugo. I’d thought them only the ramblings of the doomed. Reedrek had said Hugo was coming; he’d told me Diana was alive, but I hadn’t listened. Although I could happily spend all of eternity without ever hearing his hoary old voice in my ears, perhaps another short conversation was in order. I would let him brag about his treachery. I made my excuses and left the room.

  The shells transported me directly across town. The metal coffin smelled as sour as I remembered. But Reedrek, the doomed, remained frozen in place. Floating above him I rested an invisible hand on the center of his chest, the cold feel of touching a tomb, and called on Ghede, the trickster.

  “Wake up, you old bastard!” I ordered Reedrek. The stone beneath my palm shivered but he did not transform. “Here’s your chance. Wake up and face me.”

  A high buzzing filled my ears, as shrill as a scream. The sound lowered in tone and I could make out a word.

  “Heeeeeelp.”

  It sounded like true distress. The mere idea of discovering a weakness in my sire made me smile. I was determined to make him afraid of what I might have in store for his foreseeable future.

  I raised my hand, then struck him over his dead heart. “Wake!”

  With much creaking and crumbling and many clouds of dust, Reedrek began to lose his stony appearance. When he was at least half humanlike, I issued orders.

  “Tell me of this plague you and Hugo cooked up.”

  Reedrek tried to speak but the movement caused his lips to crack like ancient plaster, then bleed. He was part vampire, part cornerstone. He sputtered and drew in a long slow breath.

  “Hugo…” he whispered. “He has come…”

  “Tell me about the plague.”

  I could feel him uncoiling his power, testing its strength. Looking for a way to me. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m anywhere I wish to be. Right now I wish to be here so you might enlighten me. Tell me what you’ve done, or I’ll shut you up for eternity.”

  He swallowed, glancing around the confined space. “How many have died?” He raised an arm to feel along the lid of his coffin as though he might touch my voice…or grasp my throat.

  “Too many,” I answered truthfully, then added the lie I’d come to implant. “Will is dead and Hugo is infected—a worm banquet. If you’re waiting for him to save you, you’ve made a fatal error.”

  “But—”

  “But what? Did you think to have a care with such a dangerous organism?”

  This confused him. Then he seemed to gather some of his former bluster. “You lie. We had a biochemist—foremost in the world. He said Hugo and I were immune—”

  I laughed in his astonished face. “What is this? You believed him? Tell me the whereabouts of this chemist, or there will be no one left to remember your existence.”

  Reedrek went silent for a long moment. “He’s well hidden, in the Old World. You’ll never find him.” His mind, more awake, probed further. “How have you been spared?”

  “Perhaps I haven’t. Perhaps I’m a ghost who takes pleasure in haunting you.”

  His expression soured. “There’s no pleasure in death for a blood drinker. And ghosts have no need for cures.”

  “Then I must live still since our little chat is so diverting to me.”

  “Fuck you.”

  When I didn’t rise to the bait he settled back. “So you found your son only to watch him die again. How delicious.” Then he seemed to recall our last encounter. “I wonder that you didn’t try to save him with your New World magic.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Voodoo…” he snarled. “The tainted blood of savages running in your veins.”

  I let him talk.

  “Why do you need our cure when you have your own?”

  Gerard returned shortly after sunset. During the daylight hours Diana and I had taken turns watching over Will as he slipped deeper into the illness. Once, when I’d been alone with him, he’d opened his eyes.

  “Do I know you?” he asked. “I feel like I should know you.”

  I nodded. “William Thorne, lately of Savannah. We hunted together last night.”

  He stared at me for a long time. I could see small shifts under his skin, pockets of rot that hadn’t yet broken through to the surface. “We’re friends, then?” At the moment the answer seemed important to him.

  “Yes. Friends.”

  “Good. A bloke can’t have too many friends…” His voice trailed off as he fell into unconsciousness once more. I felt Diana move up behind me, followed by Gerard.

  “He’s getting worse,” she said. Not a question.

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  “He doesn’t deserve this; I feel sure he was tricked by Hugo.”

  “He wasn’t tricked into killing Sullivan,” I snapped.

  She ignored me and turned to Gerard. “Is there anything you can do? Have you found the cure you were looking for?”

  “Not for certain, madam. I’m waiting for results of the latest tests.” He cleared his throat. “May I speak to you outside, William?”

  “Of course.”

  Diana watched us leave the room with a look of concern, probably wondering what Gerard would have to discuss with me that she couldn’t hear. As we passed through the parlor, Hugo spoke.

  “Does he still live?” He looked a good deal better after his day’s sleep. His wounds had closed and the bones in his jaw had knitted. He still wore bruises like a mask over most of his face and he moved gingerly, half sitting, half lying on the settee.

  “Yes,” I answered. “But he deserves to die for his part in bringing this pestilence. And when he does, you’ll follow shortly thereafter.”

  Hugo carefully pushed to his feet. “May as well get it over with.”

  The thought of Hugo offering to face me when he was clearly at a disadvantage stopped our progress through the room. “Are you in such a hurry to die, then?”

  H
e didn’t answer other than to square his shoulders and curl his hands into fists.

  Then it struck me. He was more afraid of facing Diana if Will died than he was of me. “You’re afraid of her,” I said in astonishment.

  “Not of her,” he answered. He swung one arm out. “Of this. Of her past.”

  Of me. Not death, but loss. A hopeless love.

  “Tell me Will’s part in your plan.”

  Hugo slowly crossed his arms over his chest. For a moment I thought he’d decided not to answer. But then, after glancing toward the hallway where Diana now stood, he said, “He didn’t know anything. He was only supposed to feed the virus to the human bloodline and thus get it into the blood the clan would drink. I told him not to touch them otherwise.”

  “Was this Reedrek’s plot or your own?” Diana asked, moving into the room.

  Hugo looked down. “We had a pact. I would send Will to California, and Reedrek would come here and kill—” He raised his gaze to me.

  So we’d both had a surprise at the harbor. He’d expected Reedrek to meet him with good news.

  If I never had to speak of Reedrek again it would be a relief. I had no stomach to recount the ways he’d injured me and mine. Nor could I stand to look at Hugo. Better for me to be outside with Gerard. I turned on my heel and left Hugo to his misery and to Diana.

  “You and I both know there is no vaccine. Not yet,” Gerard said in a low voice.

  We were standing on the veranda, out of earshot of the others.

  “Pure voodoo blood is the only cure at this point,” he continued, “and Melaphia was severely weakened by Iban. She cannot give anything more to help this new case.”

  “What of my blood?” I asked, since Reedrek had seemed to think it would work. “It’s almost pure, mixed with the blood of Lalee herself. It has been good enough for other things.”

  Gerard looked off into the distance. I could almost hear his computer of a brain calculating the odds and percentages. But then he shook his head. “I can’t say for certain, but I feel that at best it might slow the progression. It would be an unacceptable risk for you, however, weakening you at a time when we need you most. And even if you force-feed him, you could still be exposed to the virus. We could lose you both.”