Crimson Night Part 31

"Depart," Alcuin continued, but the ancient power, enraged when it could not overtake him, turned its fury on the creature that dared summon it and then gave nothing in return.

Simon saw the cloud coming at him and realized it was no single daemon but an entire nest of evil things eager to possess him as fitting payment for being summoned from their dank abode. His instincts screamed at him to flee, and he blindly sought the astral plane, knowing the spirit realm offered his only hope for escape.

d.a.m.n! By the soft pink cord floating behind him, Simon knew he hadn't been successful in bringing his body with him; only his soul was on the astral plane.

That meant his body was vulnerable to the machinations of those loathsome things he'd called upon.

Simon rushed through the various realms, seeking out a place he'd never been to but heard of from Father Bain. Hidden deep in the astral plane was the domain of souls that had not yet walked the earth. A clever magus could tap into their vast energy and draw their untouched essence into himself. Simon needed the potency he'd gain from draining them to battle Alcuin and the monsters he'd invoked.

Come into me, Simon thought, trying to lure the souls to him.

He felt something come near and for a moment felt awe at the purity that enveloped him. This wasn't the simpering holiness of Isabelle chanting her rosary and glaring her eyes while he took her but genuine innocence combined with a vital exuberance that charmed him. Who are you? Simon tried to ask, and the spirit pulled away, seeming frightened by his intensity.

Come back, he screamed without words. Don't fear me. Simon had all but forgotten his original intent it would be obscene to drain this divinity, steal her (the emanation was most certainly feminine) energy so she could never be born on earth. He wasn't going to harm the spirit; he simply wanted it to remain with him.

With sudden certainty, Simon knew this was the soul of the soror mystica that John Dee had prophesized.

The spirit came closer, intrigued but somehow cautious. Simon knew it was drawn to him, felt that pull between them, yet at the same time there was a deep reluctance the spirit seemed afraid of him.

Come to me, Simon said. Be the bride my friend has foreseen.

Be ye banished from this pure soul you destroy everything you touch, a cold voice responded. That wasn't the spirit speaking it was the voice of that treacherous cleric, Alcuin.

"d.a.m.n you!" Simon bellowed and felt himself plummet with a sickening, dizzy speed. He spiraled away from the peaceful, misty haven and felt a cold wind against his cheek, a harsh rod cutting into his back.

What was wrong with him? Simon had never felt so weak in his life. Even transformation hadn't left his limbs feeling so heavy and fatigued that he didn't have the strength to move so much as his finger. His mind even felt exhausted, to the point where his head ached abominably from the simple effort of thinking. It was as if his mind and body had been used terribly.

The daemons, Simon realized tiredly. He was suffering the aftereffects of possession symptoms few people ever had because most either died or lost their minds if a daemon overtook them.

Why were they gone? His desperate flight to the astral plane couldn't have saved him. If anything, the monsters should have been overjoyed to find they need not battle for his soul. Instead, they had unquestioned dominion over an immortal body. They could put the body through all manner of contortions and it would not sicken and die as a human body would.

"Why did you put yourself at risk for that sc.u.m, master?" Simon heard a wheedling yet deep voice inquire. "What do you care if Lord Baldevar's devils claimed him now or when he got to h.e.l.l?"

"It was not Lord Baldevar I saved but the world he inhabits a world that shelters us as well as the mortals we've sworn to protect," a patient voice responded. "We could not leave a vampire in the throes of possession. Would you care to let something like that walk the earth for all eternity? I had to perform an exorcism."

"I could have beheaded him."

Simon choked back a laugh at such idiocy he wasn't about to let his enemies know he was aware. Let them continue to discuss him as though he had no more intelligence than the wood piled at his feet.

Wood piled at his feet? d.a.m.n these smug priests they meant to burn him at the stake like some village hag accused of witchcraft! Simon kept his head low but concentrated on trying to draw some strength back into himself.

"Your sword would work against a possessed mortal a.s.suming you'd decided his soul was not worth battling the devil for," Alcuin responded with the same patience as before. "But a possessed vampire? You could not get near the thing! If the daemons did not kill you straightaway, they might well have decided to inhabit your body in addition to Lord Baldevar's. Though the daemons are gone, what remains is just as evil. Go and behead Lord Baldevar so we may end this foul night."

Simon heard the footsteps rapidly approaching and managed to raise his head and scream, "No!"

"Priest," Simon said conversationally to Alcuin when Guy took an uneasy step back. "My thanks for your aid in ridding my body of that undesired presence but you're a fool if you think your simpleton apprentice can destroy me."

Alcuin simply ignored his speech and Guy lifted his sword again, giving a dismayed grunt when he somersaulted in the air, landing in an undignified heap by Alcuin while the sword he hadn't been able to cling to flew behind Simon and began cutting through the ropes that bound him to the stake.

"Halt," Alcuin intoned and though the sword clattered noisily to the floor, it had already done its work well and Simon was able to begin freeing his wrists from the intricate knots that bound him to the stake.

Guy pulled himself up, his entire body quivering with insane hatred and outraged humiliation when he glared into Simon's mocking eyes.

"Go and seek your daytime shelter, Guy," Alcuin said quietly. The giant started to protest his master's quiet directive but something in Alcuin's stare made him drop his sword and turn his back without another word.

"A more incompetent man-at-arms I've ne'er encountered," Simon quipped, howling with derisive laughter when the vampire stopped, growled something incomprehensible, and then continued walking, reluctance to leave the scene apparent in every line of his trembling, enraged body.

"How well you've trained him," Simon remarked to Alcuin, using the steely whisper that always put his enemies off balance. He didn't expect such a simple trick to faze this creature but he did intend to see if the priest could be goaded into rash action by his words.

As he antic.i.p.ated, Alcuin refused to acknowledge him but Simon felt the priest's intense concentration and knew Alcuin was gauging his reaction to Guy's departure.

"Think you I'll waste myself on some fool beneath my contempt?" Simon questioned, careful to keep his hands behind his back and not reveal that he was free of the stake. "No doubt you intend for me to chase after your apprentice and attack while I am preoccupied. I'll not fall for such a simple tactic you've wasted your p.a.w.n, uncle."

Now Alcuin turned to him and for the first time there was some emotion in his fathomless gold eyes. "I do not treat people as p.a.w.ns to be moved about without a care for their well-being, nephew."

"No?" Simon questioned, keeping his eyes on Alcuin's grotesque hand clutching the broadsword at his side. The priest made no move toward him and Simon knew Alcuin was well aware his hands were free of their restraints. He and Alcuin were at an uneasy standstill, each waiting for the other to make the offensive strike. "Did you send that fool away because you fear my power, Uncle, and know I can dispatch him easily?" Simon taunted. "What a n.o.ble gesture, though I can easily accuse you of playing favorites, you sanctimonious fraud. You spare Torquemada's minion but what of all the vampires I've rendered to dust this long winter season? How many that you swore to protect will you allow to die in an effort to put me in the ground?"

The priest said nothing, seeming as mesmerized by Simon's words as a cobra unwillingly dancing to a snake charmer's pipes. Here was the path to Alcuin's destruction. No incantation or physical warfare was necessary Simon need only prey upon the reproach Alcuin felt in his heart for all the vampires killed in this battle. Simon could bring the pompous cleric to his knees by using his guilt and grief to weaken him.

At the gleam of victory in Simon's eyes, The fog lifted from Alcuin's expression and he struck so quickly his sword lashed through Simon's throat before he knew what was happening.

The blade made easy work of his jugular but a swift chop at Alcuin's stomach made the priest bend over in pain and Simon spun away, using the long wooden stake to deflect the blows Alcuin rained upon him.

Simon felt blood soaking through his shirt, though the wound was already closing. Helplessly, Simon watched the priest's sword cut through his pathetic wooden weapon and knew his demise was at hand. Naturally, Guy and Alcuin had stripped him of all his weapons before they'd tied him to the stake. He was still too weak to use sorcery and he had no weapon to battle Alcuin. His only hope was to get the sword out of Alcuin's hands.

Remembering lessons from an old sword master, Simon lunged at Alcuin's wrists but he could not wrest the weapon away from him. The priest threw off his frenzied attack, seeming to expand no more effort than he would use to brush a fly from his robe.

Soon, Alcuin backed Simon against an oak tree, his wooden stake hacked to little more than a block of wood the length of his arm. The priest towered above him, his broadsword glittering obscenely in the fading moonlight.

Puzzled, Simon watched his enemy raise the sword high above his head and then lower it abruptly, seeming dazed and weak. What was wrong with the bishop why didn't he simply lop off Simon's head?

"Your time for demanding that the hawks bow down to the rabbit mortals is done," Simon hissed, knowing such a speech when his own death seemed imminent was a ridiculous boast. His words were no more than an attempt to distract the priest and s.n.a.t.c.h the sword from his hands. "I'll seek out every vampire that lives in fear of your wrath and tell them they need skulk about no more! From here on, we enjoy the night in any manner we please.

"And that spirit you tore me from?" Simon taunted, knowing he'd found the c.h.i.n.k in his foe's armor by the way Alcuin's lips twisted into a frightening grimace of outraged horror. "She's meant to be my soror mystica and give me what you'll never have a son."

"Never!" Alcuin cried and raised his sword. He lowered it in a clumsy, heavy- handed arc that Simon was easily able to avoid by moving his head slightly. What was the matter with Alcuin? Had the exorcism he performed weakened him?

Simon made a move for his sword but Alcuin stepped away and glared down at him.

"I'll not have you corrupting another woman with your unwholesome ways as you did to Isabelle! I vow you'll never break that soul if I could not protect Isabelle from you, at least I can prevent you from ever ruining that unborn spirit!"

Simon raised an eyebrow, circling Alcuin warily. "Isabelle, is it? Chaste cleric, what kind of affection did you harbor in your breast for that dead pile of bones?

Do you despise me because her blood was too sick to feast upon her body too decayed for you to "

"Enough!" Alcuin roared, and Simon fell back, biting down on his lip to keep the cries of pain from escaping his mouth. All of a sudden, he rolled about on the ground, an excruciating torment coursing through him. What was this agony that seeped into his bones and made him feel every part of him was afire with pain?

"Sunrise," Alcuin whispered, and Simon forced his eyes open, seeing that the priest, though still upright, was hunched over, apparently in the grip of the same suffering that afflicted Simon.

"I cannot put my sword through you because the coming day has weakened me but I can still get away and seek my resting place. You, though, are too young to escape. G.o.d has spoken, Simon Baldevar. The sunlight shall send you to the h.e.l.l you belong in."

"I think not," Simon hissed and he saw the uneasy speculation in Alcuin's gaze.

The priest started to speak and then clutched at his chest, moaning in pain.

"Go on, Uncle," Simon gasped out. "Get you gone before the sun rises and deprives me of the pleasure of killing you when next we meet." Gathering up all his strength, Simon threw back his head and screamed, "John!"

Alcuin opened his mouth to speak again, no doubt to demand to know whom Simon could call now that his vampire army lay dead around him, but a weak ray of sunlight appeared on his chest, and the skin over his heart burst into flames.

Hastily, the priest stamped it out and then disappeared but not before giving Simon a bitter, helpless glance.

Come on, John, Simon thought desperately. Appear, d.a.m.n it, before this wretched sun destroys me. Frantically, Simon started pawing through the dirt maybe he could dig a grave to shelter him from the sun. He'd made no more than a few scratches when sunlight began to pour over the earth.

It wasn't one flame that attacked him, more like fire bolts rained down on his body, indiscriminately consuming whatever flesh they touched. Simon could do nothing to save himself from the monstrous fire that enveloped him, blistering his skin and devouring his internal organs.

Then darkness descended and for a moment Simon thought he was mercifully losing awareness but then he felt a pummeling sensation, something beating every inch of his body before rough hands yanked him up and tossed him into a blessedly dark shelter.

"My lord, you cannot rest yet!" a voice hissed urgently into his ear. "You must drink and be replenished else you may spend eternity little more than a blackened monstrosity."

Simon came back to a miserable state of half awareness at the coppery taste on his lips, the liquid being poured down his throat. Gradually, the agony receded and he was able to open his eyes, see the blood-filled wine cask that was pressed to his mouth.

Simon drank thirstily, watching in bemused amazement as the hideous burns over his body faded, leaving his skin pale and flawless. His vision returned, and he saw that he was in the special windowless carriage he'd commissioned shortly after he transformed. Seated beside him and holding the cask that had saved his life was John Dee.

"Thank you, John." Simon heard the slurred quality to his speech and knew that though the blood had healed him, the sun was nearly completely raised and it was time for him to sleep. But he had to stay awake just a few more moments "Why do you thank me, my lord? 'Twas your new skill that cloaked my presence and that of the coachman from your enemies. A good plan, that to keep us hidden in case you needed to flee the estate during the day."

"Not just my ability," Simon gasped out. "Your own magick kept you hidden those moments my concentration was taxed in dealing with my enemies. Now we must must make plans before the weariness overtakes me. Tell the driver to head toward Leith. I'll board a ship this evening have to leave England Alcuin too strong "

Simon stopped and managed, in spite of his exhaustion, to smile briefly.

"Priest hopes sun rendered me to dust but knows Lord Baldevar might not be dead must hide build my strength next time I challenge him kill him "

He felt John Dee grasp his shoulder. "There shall be no more communication between us."

"No," Simon agreed, acutely feeling the loss of his esteemed friend. The entire court knew he patronized Dr. Dee; no doubt Alcuin was well aware of their friendship. If they corresponded, the priest or one of his minions might discover him before Simon was ready to attack again. For that matter, Simon would also have to abandon his estate and his trading company. From this night forward he'd have precious little but the clothes on his back.

But what did that matter to a vampire? He could easily reach into mortals'

minds and make them hand over their entire fortune with one command within a fortnight he'd be comfortable once more. And as long as he was discreet, he could develop his ability without the threat of Alcuin hanging over him like some noxious storm cloud.

"John," Simon muttered. "You saved my life this day and I only wish you were not too frail to accept the one boon I have to repay you. Since I cannot cannot transform you, I bequeath to you the contents of my hidden temple. All the man ma.n.u.scripts are yours and there are several trunks filled with nutmeg and cloves they'll give you an income. Take all that and any of my writings you wish credit for with my blessing and I would ask but two more favors."

"Anything, my friend."

Simon took a deep breath and then spoke in a rush, trying to beat out the vampire slumber that usually claimed him long before this hour. "One year from this date, you'll receive a letter from an Italian n.o.bleman interested in purchasing some of your library collection. Write back to me only when our Gloriana lies dying I would see her once more before she pa.s.ses from this life."

"Of course. And the other favor?"

"Isabelle," Simon said and his features twisted into an enraged mask that made his friend shudder beside him. "That blasted cleric is going to bury her, I'm sure.

Try and find her corpse I want the emerald ring."

"The one Bess gave you at your wedding? Why?"

"I must give it to my soror mystica," Simon said and finally dropped into the near-death trance that ruled his daylight hours now. As he drifted off, his final thought wasn't of his humiliation at Alcuin's hands or even the revenge he'd have one night for all the pontiff had taken from him. All the horror and violence of the night faded when Simon thought of that enchanting spirit destined to become his bride.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Southampton, New York

December 30, 1998

Meghann felt an icy hand brush her cheek, and opened her eyes, smiling up at the intrusion to her dreams.

"Forgive me, sweetheart," Simon said and leaned down to kiss her, his lips still carrying the chill of the frigid winter night. "You looked so sweet I couldn't resist waking you."

"It's okay," Meghann said drowsily and accepted his help to get into a sitting position. "Tired of sleeping during the night. Where did Charles and Lee go?"

"They retired to their cottage for a late dinner, and speaking of which " Simon presented her with a silver tray laden with cheeseburgers, fries, and the thick vanilla shake she'd expressed a craving for.

"Want some?" Meghann asked after he balanced the tray over her knees.

Simon selected one thick french fry but instead of eating it he fed it to her.

"When you finish your third meal of the night, I have a surprise for you, little glutton."

"I'm eating for three," Meghann said primly and devoured the second rare burger. "What's the surprise?"

"A belated Christmas present." Simon smiled and handed her a large square box wrapped in cheerful red paper embossed with poinsettias.

"Monopoly!" she squealed in happy surprise after she tore the wrappings.

"The 1935 version Simon, did you get this just because I went on about my father buying it the first year it came out?"

"Didn't you say this game engrossed you and your siblings during various illnesses and vacations? I thought it might provide some diversion since you've become bored with your novels and psychology journals, watching movies, and you dislike chess so much."

"I like chess just fine as long as I'm not playing against you," Meghann said and stuck out her tongue. "What fun is a game where you're defeated in five minutes?"

"Did it take me that long to trounce you?" Simon questioned and ducked the pillow launched at his head. "Of course, I'm aware that with this particular game, it may be a few hours before my superior skill does you in."