Savannah Vampire - The Vampire's Kiss Part 16

Diana beamed. In a different time, she might have been mistaken for a young Grace Kelly. Her golden hair flowed about her shoulders in a rich cascade, framing her cla.s.sically beautiful face. She turned a gaze of adoration on Ulrich that produced a new wave of nausea in my gut. In spite of my disgust, I had the presence of mind to wonder as to Hugo 's whereabouts. What could Hugo's role be in Diana and Ulrich's plan?

"Do you really think so?" she said, fluttering her long lashes. "How do you know?"

"I could feel it," Ulrich said. "Their power vibrates within me even now. Can't you feel it as well?"

Diana looked uncertain, but she seemed to know what answer he expected. "Yes," she agreed. "Of course. I can feel the power, too."

"Soon we'll be sharing in that power." Ulrich reached out and roughly pulled her against him. "With you at my side, we will be the most powerful force in the world of the blood drinkers. Under our influence and command, we will use the vampires to rule the human world as well. There is no end to what we can do. No force will be strong enough to stop us."

"I can't wait for that day," Diana said. "I'd follow you into the depths of h.e.l.l."

"That sounds like a plan," he said, and laughed.

"Tell me, do you think we will wind up being quite so...ugly as they are?"

Ulrich laughed again. "You and I could never be ugly. We will rule from this plane. We need not stay underground and tend the eternal fire like them. Perhaps you would like me to sample some of your beauty now."

Ulrich gave her a punishing kiss. As he groped her, she began fumbling at the fastening of his trousers. I had no desire to watch my wife have s.e.x with another man. I turned my back to the boulders and tried to block out the sounds of their animalistic coupling.

My mind began to replay the images I 'd so recently seen of Diana in her bath with a naked Hugo, and I concentrated on pushing them away. They were replaced with another unbidden memory, an older one, though so vivid that it could be happening before me. I did not want to see these things. It was as if I, too, could feel the power that Ulrich spoke of, the power that could only come from being so close to the dark lords.

Perhaps it was their collective evil that took me back to one of the most malignant and depraved episodes I have ever witnessed in my long existence.

The year was 1888. I'd grown weary of the hardships of war and reconstruction in my adopted city of Savannah. My offspring, Jack, had become self-sufficient in the years since I made him a blood drinker, and I 'd trained him to manage my various business interests. So I decided to take a sabbatical from the war-torn South and all its political and social problems and return to the land of my birth for a change of scene. I much preferred the countryside when I came to visit England, but I had some business to transact in London, so I rented rooms at a fashionable address.

I was having a drink and a game of cards at a gentleman 's club one night when I sensed a fellow blood drinker enter the establishment. The thrum of familiarity coursing through my body meant this was not just any vampire, but one of my own bloodline. I could tell it was not my sire, Reedrek, but I had no idea what this one's relationship could be to me.

Recognising me as well, he sat down next to me and ordered a brandy. He reeked of the kill. He hailed me as kin, and introduced himself as my cousin.

"I've just had the most satisfying meal," he said. He was bold, taking scant care to cover his fangs as he drank. "I've something to show you, if you'd care to accompany me to Whitechapel."

I must admit I went with him as much out of curiosity as hunger, even though I had not recently fed. As we walked, the streets became more dingy with oppressive darkness and gloom. Men smoked evil -smelling cigars in the doorways of dimly lit shops.

Bareheaded women cl.u.s.tered by twos and threes in openings to densely darkened alleys, shuddering against the damp and cold.

Wretched-looking children darted in and out of unlighted pa.s.sageways and up and down staircases. We pa.s.sed a preacher stinking of rum who was being heckled by a few of the wayward youths thereabouts, and I remember a s...o...b..ack waving his rag in a vain attempt to sell us his services.

"Where are we going?" I said finally. The sun would be up in a few hours' time and our walk seemed to be endless. If we were hunting, we had already pa.s.sed up many suitable candidates. Any one of the adults we'd seen could have been easily separated from their friends with a few subtle, wooing words and a bit of glamour to go with them. A coin would separate some even faster.

"Have patience," my cousin said. After what seemed like hours, he led me around a corner and stopped in front of a dingy flat marked 13 MILLER'S COURT. As he opened the door he smiled and showed me in as if he were the host of a grand estate.

While Reedrek's protege, I had been a rapacious killer of both men and women, yet I only took their life's blood to sustain me.

I have killed out of hunger, out of pity, and out of rage, but never for sport. The scene that lay before me in Miller 's Court was inexplicable even to one as savage as myself.

The room was awash in blood, gore, and body parts. What once was a young woman lay butchered and in pieces, barely recognizable as the remains of a human being. I looked to my host with utter disbelief. He smiled, exposing his fangs, which still bore bits of flesh. "Poor Mary," he said. "She was an Irish la.s.s, lately of Wales."

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked. I knew it was not to feed, for the blood of the already dead is abhorrent to the vampire.

"For entertainment, of course," he said. "I thought perhaps you might have seen the newspaper headlines of late. I wanted to ill.u.s.trate that your kin is a celebrity."

From time to time I am astonished at the depth of my lingering regard for humanity. It is both my blessing and my curse. It is what led me to make Jack McShane into a blood drinker when I saw him using the last of his life's energy attempting to save his fellow soldier on a blood-sodden battlefield. It has broken my heart as I held a perishing friend who refused my offer of immortal life. It was this unaccountable regard that now caused such an explosion of righteous anger that I laid hold of the savage vampire's lapels and led him outside. I dragged him into the nearest pitch-black alley and slammed him against the brick wall hard enough to crack a mortal's skull.

My fangs lengthened and my rage rose until a fine mist of blood began to emanate from my skin. I levitated off the ground and pressed my face close to his, searching his eyes for any sign of reason or sanity, much less humanity. I saw none.

"You swine," I spat. "You're Jack the Ripper!"

Jack "Help, Uncle Jack!"

"I'm coming, Renee! Where are you?" I was running as fast as I could. A white rabbit came out of nowhere, running beside me. "Oh dear! I shall be too late!" it said, and disappeared down a rabbit hole in front of me. I heard Renee's cries again and realized they were coming from the hole, so I jumped in after the rabbit.

Down, down, down I fell, and the heat got worse the lower I fell.

I was headed to h.e.l.l.

"Jack! Wake up. You're having a bad dream."

I opened my eyes to see Reyha's face looming above my own. She patted my cheeks gently. I let her help me out of my coffin and took some deep breaths.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, thanks. It was just a bad dream, like you said." Renee's voice and the feeling of her near me were so real I was still shaking. "You run along upstairs and check on Melaphia and Deylaud." She scampered up the stairs and I went to pour myself some blood and whiskey.

The liquor calmed my nerves, and so did the hot shower that I took once I polished off the whiskey. I told myself that the dream meant nothing and hoped with all my heart-if I still had one-that what I told myself was true.

I was glad I had something to distract me-I had a date, a real date, with Connie Jones. Of course, seeing a female impersonator perform in a goth nightclub that I helped finance would not have been my choice for a first date, but vampires couldn't be choosers. Not when it came to matters of the heart, that is. And not if the vampire was me.

I dressed up in black jeans and boots and a burnt orange dress shirt that matched my brand new Number eight Dale Junior belt buckle. I went upstairs to check on Mel and the twins before I set off. As usual, they were at the kitchen table, the center of life in William's house.

"You look so handsome," Reyha enthused. She was still limping, but I noticed she had ditched the crutches.

"My, my, you surely do look good," Melaphia said.

"Thank you, ladies," I said with a little bow, happy that Mel sounded so normal. If she remembered implying that I was a monster the night before, she didn't show it. For my part, I was determined to put it out of my mind.

Reyha asked, "Where are you going all dressed up?"

"Werm is opening his nightclub tonight."

"I went over there earlier and blessed it for him," Mel said.

I was amazed to hear that Mel was getting out and around. As far as I knew, going to Werm's club was the first time she'd left the house since Renee was kidnapped. "That was sweet of you," I said. "I'm sure he appreciated that. What did you ask the loas for?"

"I asked that the club be made safe-and profitable. I think Werm will particularly appreciate the profitability part." Mel had put on a colorful shirt and tied her dreadlocks back with a sa.s.sy red ribbon. She looked practically back to normal. The human mind has a great capacity to heal itself.

Deylaud looked better, too. Still in human form, he sat reading at the kitchen table. He looked up and smiled, then returned his attention to his book.

"How was your day other than blessing Werm's club?"

"Connie came to see us," Reyha said. "She came to see Melaphia," Deylaud corrected.

Melaphia was working on what looked like a new beading project. The strange doll was gone. "Connie said she might talk to you," I said. "I put my foot down about that little trip she wanted me to make with her. She didn't take it well at first. I expect you backed me up-told her how dangerous it was-right?"

"We talked about it, yes," Mel said. "She told me she was going to be your date for the club opening." She looked up from her beading to fix me with a cautionary look. "Be careful, Jack. You know what I told you before."

"Vampires and G.o.ddesses don't mix. I remember."

"Don't do anything that you'll regret, like letting her hurt you. And I don't mean your feelings."

"I won't. I promise." I went around the table and kissed everyone's cheeks, even Deylaud's. "I'll be home before I turn into a pumpkin. I promise."

Connie had really gotten into the goth thing for the night. She 'd even put on some pale makeup, black eyeliner, and red, red lipstick. It was a pretty hot look, to tell you the truth. She wore a black sequined pants suit and a long red duster and red high heels. Be still my little bloodsucking heart.

When we got there, the joint was already jumping. A queue was even forming outside. Werm had set up one of those velvet rope lines like in the movies, complete with a bouncer with an earpiece and a clipboard. The sign on the front of the place read THE PORTAL. Whatever. When the doorman saw us, he immediately unhooked the velvet rope and motioned us in. Good for him.

Werm had said he envisioned that his club would be like Rick's Cafe in Casablanca. To me, it looked more like the alien bar scene in Star Wars. There were goths, gays, straights, punks, preppies, and, thanks to the irregulars, rednecks. And, just to round things out, vampires, werewolves, and one c.o.c.keyed zombie.

Jerry, who was a double threat as a werewolf and a redneck, had the delightful Wanda on his arm, and they were followed closely by Huey, who evidently was taking his bodyguarding responsibilities with dead-and I do mean dead-earnestness. He hardly took his eyes off Wanda. Actually, that wasn't quite true. His eyes wandered off Wanda with the same frequency that they wandered off everything else, but he was trying awfully hard to keep her in focus.

I caught the eye of Ginger, who was tending bar, and bought the irregulars all a round. Tami, one of the other wh.o.r.es, brought out a tray loaded with amber bottles of beer. I handed one to Connie.

"I'm glad the working girls have found an honest way to make a living," she said. "I hope they don't go back to turning tricks, so I won't have to bust them."

"I hope so, too. But if worse comes to worst and you do have to wrestle Ginger to the ground, I want to be there to see it."

Connie laughed and swatted me on the arm just as Rennie walked up. "Police brutality," he charged. "You hate to see that."

"He wishes," Connie quipped.

"Who's minding the store?" I asked him. "I had no idea the whole gang would be here."

Rennie gave me a guilty grin, but not too guilty. "I decided to close up for a while. We wanted to come and stay for a couple of hours just to support Werm. It doesn't look like he needs any help from us, though. The place is packed." "That it is. They're going to have to start turning people away at some point or expect a visit from the fire marshal. They must be close to capacity."

"And the entertainment hasn't even started yet," Rennie grinned. "Well, actually it has." He inclined his beer bottle toward the end of the bar where a tall, gorgeous blonde with an unusually large Adam's apple stood between Otis and Rufus, one arm linked through one each of theirs. The boys looked as happy as a couple of dead pigs in the sunshine.

"Don't tell me..." I said.

"Ain't love grand?" Rennie observed. "I hope she picks one of them to go home with."

"Don't you mean he?"

"Whatever."

"I hope they live happily ever after," I said.

Rennie sighed. "I want to be a bridesmaid."

"They'll make you wear a tacky dress you'll never want to wear again. One with those puffy sleeves."

"I hate it when that happens," Rennie agreed.

"Forget the wedding. I want to be a fly on the wall on the wedding night," I said.

"I'll drink to that." Rennie took a big swig of his beer.

"You two are awful," Connie said, laughing. Her laughter always sounded like music to me. She looked as carefree tonight as I'd ever seen her. She could have pa.s.sed for a teenager. I made a mental note to thank Melaphia. Whatever she'd said to Connie must have been just what she needed to hear.

Connie inclined her head toward the dance floor. "Now there's something you don't see every day."

Jerry and Wanda were boogying the night away with Huey do -si-doing right along beside them. "Two werewolves and a zombie cutting a rug?" I asked. "What's so unusual about that? I see it all the time."

"Uh-huh. You're a terrible liar." She studied the trio on the dance floor. "Zombies just don't have any rhythm to speak of, do they?"

"Are you kidding me? They're doing good if they're able to walk a straight line. Actually, now that I think about it, Huey 's dancing will probably improve the more he has to drink."

"It sure couldn't get any worse."

The music changed and Huey modified his motions in an attempt to try and match the tempo. He looked like he 'd been set upon by a swarm of invisible killer bees. "I hope his arms and legs are attached real good. I'd hate for his parts to go flying off.

Halloween is over and people might ask questions if a finger wound up in their Jell-O shot."

"We're going to have to start calling Huey by his Indian name," Rennie remarked.

"What's that?"

"Dances with Werewolves."

"Hey, Rennie, what are Jerry and his date doing out in public? I thought he was bound and determined to keep her under wraps."

"He was," Rennie said. "But she whined and pleaded so long and loud that he finally gave in. The woman likes to party."

"Don't she, though?" By the look of her, she was already three sheets to the werewolf wind. She was almost as unsteady on her feet as Huey.

Werm came by with a small entourage of his goth friends. He had gussied up his usual black attire with an old-fashioned ruffled dress shirt and a long jacket that flared out from the waist. He looked like a cross between Prince and your garden-variety pimp.

"Wow, you look great," Connie said without a trace of sarcasm.

"Thanks," Werm said. He touched his cheek to hers and shook my hand. "Welcome to The Portal."

"Why did you decide to call it 'The Portal'?" I asked him.

"'Cause the first time Mel saw it, she said it was special. She thinks the ground it sits on has some kind of spiritual significance.

She said she can feel it in her blood. Isn't that cool?"

"Yeah. Cool," I muttered. I barely heard him as he made introductions all around. What he said about Melaphia was kind of strange.