Savannah Vampire - The Vampire's Kiss Part 11

Werm glanced over at the ladies to make sure they were not looking and timidly pulled back his lips to show his small fangs.

"Dude, you didn't tell me he was a fledgling," Seth said to me.

"Listen, this little guy's got skills." I took the bottle from Seth and poured myself another shot.

"What skills? Is he going to whine somebody to death?" He gulped the last of his drink and held out his gla.s.s for more. I poured.

"I can go invishable," Werm said, producing a bottle of tequila.

"You don't look invincible to me, little man," Seth countered.

"Invisible," I said. "I've seen him do it."

"How can you see him if he's invisible?"

I opened the tequila and drank from the bottle. "When he hides behind curtains I can see them sway. And when he pours himself a drink, you can see the liquor bottle move on its own. He crashed a big vampire convention a while back. I had to haul him out. Everybody thought I was crazy."

"No s.h.i.t?" Seth remarked with admiration. "That is some skill."

"d.a.m.n skippy," I agreed, and pa.s.sed the tequila bottle to Seth. "Hey, let's come up with a plan to use Werm's invishability," Seth said.

Werm raised his hand as if he were asking permission to speak in cla.s.s. "Should we make a plan for a fight to the death while we're drunk?"

"I come up with some of my best plans when I'm drunk," I insisted.

"Not to mention accidentally raising zombies," Werm observed.

Seth looked at me and blinked. "Say what?"

I waved and shook my head. "Nothing to worry about. Just a little...mistake."

"That's a doozy of a mistake, pal," Seth said.

"Huey. His name's Huey." Werm held out his gla.s.s for tequila.

"Huey's a zombie?" Seth said. "Well, pour me some plasma and call me a vampire. I thought he was looking a mite overripe around the cheekbones."

"He's ripe, all right," I said. "I gave him one of those little Christmas-tree air fresheners to wear around his neck. That gets him a lot of strange looks from the customers, but it keeps him springtime fresh. As long as he stays a fair distance from the customers they can't tell the difference."

"Melaphia cast a spell to keep him from rotting any more," Werm explained.

"This is some top-shelf tequila, little bro," I said. "Now, where were we? Oh, yeah, a plan. Let's see. Seth, we know that you can beat Samson Thrasher in a fair fight hands down, right?"

"Right," Seth agreed.

"But we also know that Samson doesn't fight fair unless somebody forces him. So let's say that once the fight starts and he tries some dirty trick like getting the other wolves involved, we do this..." I laid out my plan for Werm and Seth. When I was done, they both nodded.

Werm said, "That ought to put the fear of G.o.d into the Thrashers."

"After that, Seth here will be pack leader and they won't dare defy him."

Seth looked at Werm and me in genuine surprise. "Hey, that's actually a pretty d.a.m.n good plan."

"h.e.l.l, yes," I said. "What did you expect?"

"From two drunk vampires?" Seth asked. "Not much, to tell you the truth."

"Oh ye of little faith and much body hair," I said, and shook my head.

Werm raised the near-empty Jack Daniel's bottle. "Here's to a cunning plan and a fair fight two nights from now. May the best wolf win."

I raised my gla.s.s and clinked it with the bottle. "Let the Wookiee win," I corrected. Seth gave me a sour look and issued a low growl.

"Don't start," he said, and clinked his gla.s.s.

Eight.

William "I will help you," Will repeated, and stood up a little taller. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up, mate. I doubt if we can reach her.

And even if we could, you and I together aren't big enough to take on who's got her."

"The two of us together would be powerful," I said. "But what if I told you there were more of us? What if I told you we could muster a dozen more vampires to fight at our side? Could we mount an offensive to take her back?"

His eyes widened with interest. "Let me see those vampires," he said.

I led Will to Olivia's to meet the others and tell them what he knew about Renee. We dared not talk of the matter while on the streets for fear that our words might be sensed through Hugo's psychic connection to Will. While we were in the cellar, Will had used all his skill at blocking his thoughts so that Hugo wouldn't know what was going on. But I didn't want to risk conversation in the open where the distractions of the street might break Will's concentration.

Of course, Eleanor had protested bitterly about Will and me leaving her behind. I was able to extract her promise not to tell Hugo and Diana of the plan to free Renee, but not before I'd let her feed from me again.

I was aware of the risk I took in leading Will to the site of Olivia's coven, but Renee was my first responsibility. If I lost Renee, Olivia and her vampires-and everything else in this world for that matter-would not mean a whit to me.

Bree and another of the females met us at the front door and called for Olivia when they saw I had a stranger in tow.

"Is this who I think it is?" Olivia turned her surprised gray eyes to me.

"Yes."

"Do you know what you're doing, William?"

"He's going to help us get Renee back." That was not precisely the answer to her question, and she knew it.

Bree grabbed her mistress's arm. "Don't do it, Liv."

Olivia shrugged off the woman. "Come in," she said, and stood back to let us pa.s.s.

Will took in the genteel surroundings-the Victorian furnishings, the French Provincial draperies, the curio cabinets in the foyer br.i.m.m.i.n.g with Alger's priceless collectibles. "Isn't this posh, then?" he said, his manner of speech again that of a streetwise London twenty-something.

It seemed that Will had lived through so many eras that he didn't stick to a consistent style of speech. Of course, most of the rest of us had lived through many periods as well but we had solidified a style of our own that was ageless. My theory was that Will had adopted a punk persona as a defensive measure, its toughness providing him with some type of cover that he craved. I believed that the softening of his att.i.tude toward Renee indicated that he still had that spark of humanity that his mother lacked. Of course, Iban, whose family Will had murdered, would probably disagree with my judgment. Olivia sent the two women to prepare refreshments, no doubt a ruse to get them out of earshot. Ignoring Will, who was examining the portraits on the wall, she lowered her voice. "How do you know he will not lead Hugo and Diana and whatever vampires they might have at their beck and call straight back to us at the next sunset?"

"He hates Hugo," I said.

"Plus, there are no other vampires at our beck and call," Will said, eavesdropping casually. "It's just the three of us. Besides the one Hugo has tied up in the cellar for sport, and she 's not much good for anything but s.e.x." He looked at me pointedly.

"Sorry. Dad."

"I am responsible for this coven and their safety," Olivia began. "This is the man who slaughtered Iban's entire colony! Plus, he murdered Sullivan."

"You make it sound so bad when you say it like that," Will said. He held up a hand when she started to answer back. "I only killed those people under extreme duress; now I've turned a new leaf. Don't worry, I won't bring dear old stepdad to eat your precious darlings. William's right. I hate Hugo, but I quite like the little one. She grows on you."

It was extraordinary that on the very same night I'd gone from wishing my son dead to believing there was hope for him. And it was all due to the memories of a skinny, dimpled human child. My heart was buoyed for my own nature as well. If there was hope of saving Will from evil, then there was hope for me as well.

"Has he fully recovered from the rotting plague?" Olivia asked me.

"I'm not going to infect you, old darling," Will said. "I'm standing right here."

Olivia regarded him like a mangy dog. She excused herself to summon her vampires into the parlor.

"Will has agreed to help us get Renee back," Olivia announced. "He thinks he knows where she is and who has her, and he says she's in danger. Tell us what we're up against."

Will looked around the room. "Are these your fighters? They don't look very butch to me."

They were on him so quickly I barely saw them move. Before I knew it Olivia was standing behind Will, her arms wrapped around him as tight as a vise, trapping his arms to his sides. Her fangs were unsheathed and poised against his jugular. The others, each with some type of weapon-wooden stakes, silver stilettos and daggers-surrounded the two, poised to strike at Olivia's command. It was an impressive display of speed and strength. I must admit I 'd had my doubts about them myself. They didn't look to be a robust lot on the whole, but looks can always be deceiving.

"You would be wise not to ever question the abilities of my family again."

"b.i.t.c.h," Will muttered.

"Son of one," Olivia hissed.

"Children," I said evenly. "Let us not forget the matter at hand."

"Leave off," Will muttered. Olivia allowed him to shake her off him and the others went back to their seats. They sheathed their stakes, sterling stilettos, and various other weapons, and the sheaths in turn disappeared into the pockets of custom -tailored jackets and the gossamer folds of flowing black silk skirts.

"They certainly seem on edge. Wouldn't you say, Will?" I said. When things had calmed down, I asked him, "Where is Renee?

Who is holding her?"

Will straightened his black coat, smoothing the leather where Olivia's death grip had rumpled it. "All I know is that I overheard Mother talking to some guy about her."

"Some guy? Does this guy have a name?" Olivia demanded.

"Ulrich," Will said. "His name is Ulrich."

A frisson of dread shot through me as Olivia and I exchanged glances. Ulrich was well -known to both of us-he was Reedrek's sire. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but Olivia's usual alabaster complexion went even paler. And well it should, because if the legends were true, then we might as well be up against Lucifer himself.

"Did you meet him?" I asked.

"No. I only overheard him. I followed my mother one night without her knowing. She walked and walked through the sewers until she came to a pa.s.sage that led straight down into the earth. I followed her, climbing on stones and vines for foot -and hand- holds for so long I thought we were going to into h.e.l.l itself. I could even swear I smelled sulfur.

"Just when I was thinking of turning back, the pa.s.sage expanded into a kind of room. I remained hidden down the corridor and listened to Mother talk to a man she called Ulrich. Do you know him?"

"I've never met him," I said. "But I've heard of him. He is your great-grandsire. And yours, Olivia, as I'm sure Alger told you."

"Then we're kissing cousins, as the American hillbillies would say," Will said, and pursed his lips a la Mick Jagger.

Olivia ignored him. "I have heard Alger speak about this Ulrich," she said. "Alger never met him either, but he was still afraid of him. He said that Reedrek was terrified of him, but that he also...loved him."

"He is said to be very seductive and charming," I recalled. "And very evil. Reedrek always spoke of him as if he was in awe of his power." He used to threaten me with stories about Ulrich, as if to frighten a child with tales of a bogeyman.

"He gave me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s." Will shuddered.

"Was Renee there?"

"No. She was being held somewhere else, somewhere...deeper."

I felt something lurch in my chest. My poor child, so far underground. So alone-or perhaps not. My mind refused to account for the possibilities. "How do you know?" I asked him.

"I sort of...felt her somehow. I-I sensed she was nearby at least. I can't explain it."

I could explain it. Will and Renee were bonded by the voodoo blood flowing through their veins. The vaccine that had saved him contained a highy distilled form of the blood that Renee had donated.

"She is...in danger," Will practically stuttered.

"Tell us exactly what you mean by that. What did Ulrich say about her?"

Will took a deep breath and blew it out. "She is due to be sacrificed on the night of the full moon."

Jack Seth encouraged me to visit Connie while he volunteered to help Werm and the girls finish the flooring. I could just imagine what those tiles were going to look like after being put down by a drunk werewolf, but hey, if a floor that looked like a crazy quilt was okay by Werm, then it was okay by me. If I remembered correctly, and that could never be taken for granted after a quart of whiskey with a tequila chaser, tonight was Connie's night off. With a little luck I might find her at home. I didn 't trust myself to get behind the wheel so I decided to hoof it through the tunnels.

The tunnels under Savannah were leftover from early in the city's history, when the city fathers decided to raise the street level as a protection from hurricanes. Historically, the tunnels were used by pirates, bandits, and cutthroats of all kinds to hide loot, evade the law, and shanghai men to crew the shadier privateers. They also make a dandy way for vampires to get around the city when it's daylight, or when they're too drunk to drive and they want to take a shortcut on foot.

The way to Connie's apartment took me right past the new hospital where good old granddad Reedrek was cemented up in the cornerstone. William had sort of turned him to stone or froze him, I guess you could say, but later wanted information out of him so he unfroze him. But then he forgot to freeze him back. And he 'd been annoying me ever since whenever I got within shouting distance.

Reedrek was still trapped all right, but his mind was mobile enough to try to work his mojo on any underground pa.s.sersby within range of his psychic abilities. I 'd recently caught him trying to talk a sewer repair crew into busting him out of his granite tomb with their jackhammers. I'd nipped his little plan in the bud that time, but his potential for mischief still gave me the creeps.

Ever heard that old expression I may be crazy but I'm not stupid? That pretty much summed up Reedrek's state. Even though he was still a wily old b.a.s.t.a.r.d, the sensory deprivation was making him as crazy as a s.h.i.t -house rat. The few times I had come near him since the repairmen incident, he was spewing crazy talk and riddles.

I tried tiptoeing past his resting place, hoping he wouldn't sense me. No such luck. "Jaaaackeeeee," he sang out. "It's your poor old grandsire, Reedrek."

"D'oh!" I yelped. We may not share the voodoo blood, but we did have the regular vamp bloodline bond. He was my gramps, and he could sense me if I was anywhere around.