by D C Young
The wraith of a girl looked shocked they knew her name. She began to stutter shocked questions in French.
“Slow down,” Allison said to her in a soft voice “My French is rather bad.”
The girl's eyes widened and she swallowed audibly. Then she opened her mouth and asked, “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“We are friends of Marie de Guise. She sent us to find you and bring you home to her.
“Marie is dead.”
“Non, mon Cherie,” Allison continued. “Marie is alive. She is like you and like my friend Samantha She is a vampire.”
“Oh, mon dieu!” Antoinette took several steps back, her hand pressed to her mouth to stifle the gasps and wails.
She was crying and losing her composure.
Ask her who these vamps are that have captured us, Sam thought.
“Who are those creatures who live in this house?”
“They are vampires too. A gang that was attacked by an old savage, one who roamed the streets for centuries. He didn't do a good job of terminating them afterwards. He killed thirty of them that night and got sloppy somewhere along the line. These nine survived and fled the country. They came to Ratilly of all places. It was abandoned at the time.”
“When we contacted you during the séance, you said there were more like you. What did you mean? Other vampires?”
“Yes, somehow they found that they could survive off of the blood of other vampires, those older than themselves. They drugged us with vervain and locked us up here to provide their food.”
“Is that why they thought my blood tasted strange?”
“Yes, they have probably never tasted human blood. They are affected mentally and physically because of their cannibalism.”
“We noticed.”
“So, Marie has been alive this whole time?”
“Yes, she only recently learned of your condition and asked us to come find you. She really loves you, Antoinette.”
“Once upon a time, she did but as for now, I will be the judge of that myself. We need to get out of here.”
“Is it daylight outside?”
“It is. Then we must wait for the sun to set; that will give us time to recover and come up with a plan How many others are captive here?”
“Three.”
***
Kullervo Jorgesson hopped on the first train headed out of Paris to Burgundy. It would take the better part of three hours to get to Ratilly but he would run there if he had to.
He had his own theories as to what may have happened at the chateau and based on what he had seen and heard at the séance, he figured it had been an ambush.
Instinctively, he called Elisabeth Bathory as soon as he was settled in on the train. If there was any help she could offer, he knew it would assist in turning the odds in his favor.
“I cannot leave but I will send the Russians to assist. You are good friends with them and you know they are talented despite their small child-like statures.”
“If these vampires are hostile, that could be a ruse to our advantage.”
“Spoken like a truly wise warrior. I will have them meet you there. They travel like the wind It's a power I envy them greatly.”
“I know,” Kullervo laughed as he fondly remembered times spent with Anastasia and Alexei. “So do I.”
***
Antoinette sat cradling Allison in her arms as she fed tenderly from the woman's shoulder. She had not dared pierce the throbbing vein at her neck unsure she would be able to stop herself. She had been starved for so long.
She found the rejuvenating qualities of Alison's witch blood astounding and was satisfied and remarkably recovered after a few mouthfuls.
“That was wonderful,” she said softly in French to Allison. “I am very grateful to you.
“You need it, mon Cherie. You will play a very big part in our escape plan. We need you to be at your best if we are to take these heathens by surprise.”
As soon as she was finished, Antoinette stood and pulled the chain that held Alison from the wall. It gave her no resistance and pieces of stone and dirt flew everywhere as it came away from the wall. She did the same for Sam's chain and then went off in search of the shackle keys.
When she returned she found Sam closing the wounds she had inflicted on Allison. From the folds and pockets of her ancient dress, she pulled a skeleton key which she handed to Sam and a bottle of Coke and a cupcake which she handed to Allison.
“They sell these in the gift shop downstairs. The cake might be a little stale, it's from yesterday.”
“What time is it?” Allison asked her.
“I would say about 8:30. There are a few staff downstairs and they're about to open up the house to get ready for the days visitors. The drapes have not yet been opened though.”
Allison tore at the food furiously while Sam worked at removing the shackles from them both. She sat with her back against the wall for a moment rubbing her wrists and thinking hard.
Now what? She asked Allison telepathically.
Allison turned to Antoinette. “Where are the others being kept?”
“They keep our coffins leaned up against the wall inside the chamber where they sleep.”
Great! Sam though exasperated. It couldn't just get easier, could it?
I wouldn't bet on it Moon Dance, Allison replied using her old screen name. Fittingly, the name was from a time when everything in Sam's life had been as far from simple as it could get.
Sam sighed deeply. We'll figure it out.
We always do, girl!
“But...” Antoinette continued, sensing the hopelessness Allison and Sam shared. “They may have drank enough of your blood for you to cast a spell on them, maybe?”
“Antoinette! You are a genius!”
Epilogue
It had been a long night of celebration at Elysium House.
Sam, Allison and Kingsley had been wined, dined and entertained as lavishly as any of them could ever remember having been.
Julia and Marie's gracious hospitality had known no bounds and they had even enlisted William Wallace and Bjorn in organizing activities for the guests of honor... which were many. Kullervo Jorgesson had caved to the pressures from Anastasia and Alexei and agreed to accompany them on a short visit back to their first home. Even Elisabeth had relented and left the mountainside of Csejte to join them.
Certainly not least of the guests at Elysium were Antoinette de Nemours and her three companions from Burgundy.
The identity of the mysterious three had not ceased to shock. Ever since Allison, Sam and Kullervo had pulled them simultaneously from the standing coffins in the Ratilly coven's den. The three rescuers had had to stifle their own wonder in order to quickly complete the task and get everyone away to safety.
Just then the three entered the room from admiring the view from the balcony.
They seemed to go everywhere together and even had the same expressions and gestures... it was uncanny.
Downright spooky, is what it is, Sam thought.
Margot, Joan and Victoria resembled a set of Russian nesting dolls. They wore the same dress and each was just a few inches taller than the other.
As soon as she saw them emerge into the room, Marie ran to pull all three women into her arms again. She hadn't stopped hugging and kissing them since they had arrived. When they had announced they would return to Europe with the Elisabeth Bathory and the Romanovs, Marie had cried as if her heart would break.
She understood they needed to make their own place in the world again as they had before they were captured and enslaved but her maternal love for her dear friend's children had overcome her common sense on the matter. It was short lived but she still planned on fawning shamelessly over them for the few days they had together.
Julia roamed the room ensuring everyone was catered to, just as she always did during her get togethers but soon enough she found herself outside on the balcony as was her custom. She caught Kullervo admiring the m
oon in its gibbous towards fullness.
“Will you stay the next few days and run with Bjorn Ironside?” Julia asked never taking her eyes off of the glowing orb in the sky. “I know he would enjoy it very much and even Kingsley has accepted his invitation to hunt.”
“I think I will. Learning new ground is not an opportunity I get often and the game here is different from what I am used to.”
“It's moose then, is it? He wouldn't tell me where the party would go.”
“I fear then I have spoiled his surprise,” Kullervo replied, smiling widely. His large, white teeth glimmered in the moonlight.
“You will enjoy the North west. It is very much like Karelia.”
“Good.”
Inside, Marie held the rest of the party rapt with the very little known details of how she had become a vampire and she was getting to the good part.
“Come inside and hear a little of de Guise's tale,” Julia said to Kullervo. “It is good for all of us immortals to hear these stories and understand that though our lives can be very long and quite lonely at times, our humanity must remain.”
“Why so, Julia? I am often tempted to give over to the beast and over time I feel less and less guilty about it.”
“I know,” she said understandingly, “But it is our humanity that grounds us and keeps us aware that we are here for a higher purpose than our own. We watch, we serve, and we keep the balance.”
The End
The Chronicles of the Immortal Council returns in:
Vampire Intuition
Return to the Table of Contents
VAMPIRE INTUITION
The Chronicles of the Immortal Council #10
A Vampire for Hire story
by
D.C. Young
Foreward
by J.R. Rain
Hi there and welcome!
J.R. Rain here, and I’m so excited to introduce you to my “Vampire for Hire World”! As you might have guessed, these are written by writers other than me. Fair warning, these stories are non-canon (as in, unofficial) but they’re still a ton of fun. I’m excited to see the Samantha Moon world grow, and I’m equally excited to see all these wonderful writers exploring her world with me.
So, sit back and enjoy Vampire Intuition!
—J.R.
Vampire Intuition
Chapter One
“A closet full of mops has more common sense than you do,” my favorite television character snapped as she put another petitioner in her place, and had probably created another one-line quip which would be labeled a Judaism.
It was the first time I had been able to relax and watch Judge Judy in more than a week. The program had been on several times, but with all that had been going on with my kids and getting into a fight with the devil, which I won, by the way, I hadn’t really been able to relax. I guess it was the let down that usually occurs after something major, but I have to admit that I was a little bit bored, even watching idiots get their asses handed to them in a television courtroom.
I should probably find something else to do, I told myself. Not a single muscle twitched to put the thought into action. The kids were at school, though it had taken quite a bit of work, and planting mental suggestions in the heads of administrators, to convince the powers that be, a phrase I use so often that I started to shorten it to PTB. Anyway, the PTB had allowed my children back into school and back into a normal life. God knows they had nothing of the sort taking place in their lives at home.
I’d shuffled through some case files in my office, noting that nearly all of them were either obsolete due to circumstance beyond my control or dead ends waiting for a lead to develop. I probably could have done some digging and developed a lead, but well, I wasn’t really motivated to. Even a demon slaying vampire deserves some rest once in a while, I assured myself. In the same instant the thought crossed my mind, I heard the familiar growl of a pair of tuned pipes coming from the street outside, and then heard their rumbling die out in my driveway.
“Sledge,” I smiled, using the clicker to turn off the television, and then getting up to go to the door. As I passed by the big window that faces the street, I took a peak. The big man was standing beside his bike, dressed in his usual garb and looking dangerous as he waited on whoever it was that was climbing out of a rather non-descript dark blue sedan. A Fed?
The biker and the dude in the suit were certainly a mismatched pair as they used the sidewalk to approach my front door, which I opened before Sledge, whose real name, Josh Slader, took my mind several seconds to bring back into memory, had reached the first step.
“Hey Sledge,” I called out as I opened the door with a broad smile on my face. Sledge had become a pretty significant character, nearly a member of the family, and it was always good to see him.
“Sam,” his deep voice boomed and half of a smile cracked open the corner of his mouth. It was a pretty normal expression for him when he was in a business-like mood, though my family had witnessed a much fuller smile and even some deep laughter coming from him in less business-like times.
Seeing the expression on his face and that of the man in the suit who had trailed him up the sidewalk caused me to become instantly wary. Sledge had come on business, and evidently it was serious business.
“This is Lawrence Benson from the California Regional Center for Missing and Exploited Children,” he growled as he waved a meaty hand in the direction of the man in the suit. Sledge was the acting President of the local chapter of BACA, so the connection was not nearly as strange as the vast difference in their appearances.
“Ma’am,” Lawrence nodded.
“Come on in,” I responded. My tone had become grave and professional, knowing that something pretty serious was up.
The two men followed me into the house and I directed them into the kitchen. “I can put on a pot of coffee if you like,” I said, as I entered the kitchen behind the two men who had already pulled out chairs to sit. I wasn’t sure if I even had coffee anymore, though the auto-drip machine still took up space on my kitchen counter.
“No need, Sam,” Sledge growled. Sledge knew who and what I was, and it was likely that he knew that I didn’t make much coffee anymore.
I turned toward the table and pulled out a chair for myself. “I’m not liking the prospects of this case already,” I commented as I lowered myself into the chair. The missing children cases I’d worked had turned out with what some would call a happy ending, but I knew that the vast majority of them did not. Since two agencies dealing with child abuse and exploitation had joined forces, so to speak, whatever they were about to present to me was going to be a doozy.
“It’s a pretty tough one,” Sledge admitted. I still had images of Michael Clarke Duncan in my head whenever I heard the biker talk, though there wasn’t even the faintest resemblance, other than their size and the deep baritone of their voices, between them. “Mister Benson has quite a lot of pressure being applied by some very influential people and he got wind of our case from before.”
“I need you to find a girl,” Lawrence Benson broke in, evidently, not one for any sort of small talk or introductions. “Somebody’s daughter, I should say, the daughter of somebody important.”
It usually worked that way. Whenever some regular family’s kid went missing, detectives worked the case as best they could until the leads dried up and they put the file in a stack, not unlike the one back in my own office, and the case, the family and the missing child was forgotten. They kept their poster up on their website with the hope that someone who sight the child and make a report, but for the most part, the cases become little more than that poster and the dimmest hope. However, when the child of someone important disappeared, all hands were on deck, all stops were pulled out, and all irons were in the fire, along with a vast number of other clichés to indicate that the case would not be allowed to be placed in that forgotten stack of folders.
I noted that Lawrence Benson had beady, focused eyes, which were proba
bly quite intimidating to most of the people he talked to, but had little effect on me. Compared to the eyes I had been looking into lately, his were like those of an innocent baby. He fixed them on me and waited for me to respond. When I did not, he continued.
“We are looking for the daughter of a particular senator…”
The moment he said senator I cringed. It hadn’t been long since I’d had some pretty unsavory dealings with a senator who had been on the fringe of some sketchy dealings related to child exploitation. He’d skated free, of course, it always worked that way for persons of influence. I glanced at Sledge who shook his head ever so slightly, knowing the thought which was running through my head.
“That senator is Senator Malcolm Edwards and his daughter’s name is Justine.”
Chapter Two
The sigh that came out, when I realized that we were not going in search of the daughter of a man who I had grown to despise greatly, caught Benson’s attention and caused him to cock an eyebrow as he wondered about my reaction. It was the typical detective response and I was certain that he was about to start interrogating me, but Sledge came to my rescue.
“The case Sam and I worked before implicated another senator,” he grumbled. “Left a pretty bad taste in our mouths for senators.”
“Understood,” Benson nodded, and then pushed forward. “Justine Edwards was last seen at school five days ago. We’re pretty sure that whoever performed the abduction knew her schedule down to the minute and knew exactly when she wouldn’t be supervised.”
“Somebody on the inside?” I asked. Schools were monitored pretty closely. Unfamiliar faces were usually spotted immediately.
“What makes you say that?” Benson asked.