by J. P. Rice
Before I could break away, the two men lifted me up and mashed my face into the side of the vehicle. The men acted quickly. Using police grade handcuffs, they secured my arms behind my back. One of the men spit out a quick Latin phrase that I didn’t recognize. I assumed he was casting a protection ward on the cuffs for extra security.
“We have you now. Murderer,” the vampire whispered close to my ear.
What the fuck? Had they found out about Reg? I tried to play it off and spoke without emotion. “What are you talking about? I’m no murderer.”
The man kept his voice low, but it wasn’t quite at a whisper anymore, “You got away with killing two of our kind already. We will not let you get away with a third. Even if he was still a new recruit.”
Fuck. It was the vampires from the Purple House. Time to call on the big guns. “Jonathan is going to kick your asses when he finds out about this.”
“Jonathan is on vacation, stupid,” he said, raising his voice.
I went to talk again, but the men stuffed a rag in my mouth. It smelled and tasted like cleaning polish. I could feel them tying it in a firm knot against the back of my head. Bound and gagged, they pushed me toward the back of the vehicle.
I tried to resist when I saw the open trunk, but the two men had substantial power and worked well as a team. One of them scooped me up by my legs and the other held my upper body. Without care, they tossed me into the trunk and slammed it closed.
In complete darkness, I breathed in the thick, pungent air through my nose. The cleaning rag in my mouth made it even more uncomfortable, sending bloody panic into my veins and through my body. The vehicle started to move, and I wondered what the hell was going on. Had they kidnapped Felix too? Or were they just after me?
I knew one thing. I was in some deep trouble. Jonathan, the leader of the Purple Clan of Vampires, was one of the most powerful vampires in Pittsburgh. The vampires had eight different clans separated by colors. All the leaders like Jonathan were members of a joint council to keep the peace in Pittsburgh. They enforced strict rules on their own houses to keep out of the crosshairs of the police.
We drove for what seemed like an hour and sweat emerged from every pore, leaving a nervous film over my body. How had they found out I’d killed Reg? What kind of punishment did they have in mind?
My mind had shifted from filling the Blood Goblet on a great adventure to immediate survival. Pure and simple. I wasn’t getting out of the cuffs. Someone had set a complex spell on them and without being able to see the handcuffs, they weren’t coming off.
My biggest problem was the fading oxygen. Each breath felt heavier than the last. How many more breaths were left? Barely any air was coming in and a ton was going out. The Dramamine and delirium of being in the trunk caused my eyelids to get heavy. Panic tried to fight against it, lifting my eyelids. It screamed at me that if I closed my eyes, they might never open again.
The limo finally came to a stop and the trunk popped open a crack. I moved my head toward the opening and sucked the fresh air in through my nose. It was still heavily peppered with a cleaning polish taste, but I wasn’t going to die.
Two vampires pulled me out of the trunk. I should have known. My two nemeses from the Purple House of vampires. Roydell and Timson. They didn’t like me, and the feeling was more than mutual.
They poked me in the back, guiding me toward the entrance of the Purple House. Two vampires I didn’t recognize raced out the front door and ran up to me. Roydell and Timson stepped aside. The two new men lifted me up, laid me out horizontally and carried me under their arms like a rolled-up carpet. The men carried me into a room I’d never been in before. Dim candlelight was the only source of illumination.
They sat me in a chair and guided my arms behind the back of the chair. They secured my ankles to the legs of the wooden chair and mercifully removed the gag. If my mouth wasn’t so dry I’d try to spit out the funky taste in my mouth, but just breathing through my mouth was a real treat right now.
“Where is he?” asked a vampire with a long scar running across his cheek.
“Where is who?” I returned in an angered tone. “And who the hell are you?”
“My name, which should be your last concern right now, is Del Rubio. The man you claimed to be friends with is whom I speak of.” He stood in front of me and opened his suit jacket. The vampire brushed his thumb against the horse engraved into the pearl grip of his Colt Revolver. It looked like the fancy Detective Special with the nice engraving. He looked down at the gun, then up at me, and said, “Don’t be coy. You know who we are talking about. Reginald Danforth.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not being coy. Every time someone goes missing, are you guys going to blame me?”
Del Rubio closed his suit jacket angrily and yelled, “We blame you for good reason, boy. We held a séance last night and we spoke to Reginald. He had some very interesting things to tell us.”
That explained my kidnapping better. “Why would you need a séance to talk to him?”
“Because he isn’t in this world anymore,” he said, pacing in front of me. “He’s straddling the line between life and death. He wants to come back to life, but he can’t tell us where he is buried. Why don’t you tell us?”
This was getting worse by the second. I remained as calm as I could. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Reginald told us that you buried a wooden stake into his heart and buried him in the remote woods. However, he doesn’t know the exact location.” Del Rubio leaned his ugly mug closer to my face. “Just tell us where he is so we can revive our mutual friend. We’ll let you go, no questions asked.”
This put me in a really difficult spot. Fu—uck. If I admitted to it, the vamps would kill me. That no questions asked was bullshit.
If I didn’t, Reg would remain buried underground. Could I trust the vampires to tell the truth? Was this all a big trick to kill me because these guys had it in for me? I was so fucking confused right now.
“Tell us where he is, or you will suffer,” threatened the vampire.
I shook my head. “I wish I could tell you. That is, if you are telling the truth.”
Del Rubio’s dark eyes narrowed, his pasty forehead wrinkled, and his nose flared in anger. He raised his voice, “We have no reason to lie. Neither does your friend. We will have another séance tonight. And you shall be the guest of honor. You can see with your own eyes that your friend is suffering. Timson.” He turned around and his vampire associate was nodding in agreeance. “Let’s leave this man to think about his transgressions.”
Del Rubio and Timson blew out the candles, put out the torches and exited. In complete darkness, I wrestled with a difficult choice. My best friend or me?
Chapter 18
A firm slap across the face woke me up. I sat up and stretched my back out as best I could under the circumstances of being bound to a chair. Immediately, I noticed they had changed my bonds. Chains had been wrapped around my ankles and my hands were still bound behind the back of the chair. I moved my wrists around and it felt like a coarse rope had been exchanged for the handcuffs.
The man standing in front of me said, “No sleeping. You need to atone for your sins.” It was the same man who had initially interrogated me. Del Rubio.
A tall, slender vampire lit a few candles and placed them in certain areas on the round table in front of me. Then he took long sticks of incense and placed them in several holders. He lit the incense sticks and a smell of cherry pipe tobacco filled the room.
A sudden burst of soft classical music came through the speakers built into the walls. Light. Soft. Soothing. Oh shit. He was setting up a séance or some type of modern necromancy where they contacted the dead. I wasn’t familiar with those crafts. I had so much to learn.
They were going to summon Reg right in front of me.
I was surprised they would do it like this. These types of things normally only worked if there wasn’t any negative energy in the room. I�
��d be damned if I was going to be a positive influence on this procedure.
I asked, “What’s your name? I need to make a list for Jonathan. I can’t wait until he hears about this. You’re in for a real shit storm if you’re taking part in this.”
The younger man who didn’t look older than a teenager laughed. I laughed along with him until it bordered on maniacal. With a crazed look on my face, I stared blankly at the kid and said, “I wouldn’t want to give up my name either if I were you. I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard Jonathan is vicious. Several stories have it that he can crush a man’s skull with a single punch. See, your problem is that your skull still isn’t fully developed. He’d pop your head open like a coconut.”
The young vampire’s pale face went flush. He swallowed, licked his crusty lips and said, “And what would you say if you found out he told us to do this?”
“I would say you’re a fucking liar. I’m valuable to Jonathan. Much more valuable than an incense lighter.”
“I’m the best medium in the Purple House. I’m rather confident in my value. Just tell us where Reginald is, and we will let you go.” He dumped some white powder on the other side of the table and pulled out a hand blown, multi-colored glass straw. The nameless vampire took out his license and used it to push the powder around. He put the glass straw up his nostril, pinched the other one shut and snorted a long line. He raised his face, wide eyed, and screamed, “Whoooo.”
“What ya snorting there?” I wanted to know.
“It is the essence of my connection with the other worlds and liminality. In substance, it is ground ivory unicorn horn. Care to bang a line with me, mere mortal? That is a mortal who could die at any moment and be gone forever. To avoid that type of cruel fate, I suggest you tell us where Reginald is and we let bygones be bygones.” He rubbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
Yeah right. The vamps would let me go. Sure. Straight to a waiting noose. And did this joker really believe that powder was unicorn horn?
There weren’t any windows in the room, so I had no clue what time it was. Thunder cracked and rumbled, echoing around the open room, but that still didn’t give me any indication as to the time. If I was going to make a break for it, I wanted to do it during the day when the vampires’ powers weren’t as sharp.
The young medium left the room and returned a few minutes later. He sported a lazy smile and glossy red eyes as he pushed in Reg’s wheelchair with a few things on it. He parked the chair at the table and picked up the clothes on the seat. He laid out the apparel on the wheelchair as if Reg was sitting in it.
Using his index and middle finger, he picked up a small cylindrical glass bottle that appeared to be full of blood and set it in the middle of the table.
He left and returned again with something in his hands and dumped it on the table. I squinted and gazed through the candlelight at two small objects, one black, one silver. He set down the circular silver item and I recognized it as a Sterno heating device. He popped off the small cap and smelled the pink gel inside.
Seemingly satisfied, he recapped it and set up the tiny cauldron. The black cast iron pot was hanging from a golden tripod. He positioned it so that it hung right above the Sterno lighter.
A heavy downpour smacked into the side of the mansion creating an even more ominous setting. The vampire walked over to the door, stopped, and said, “See you at midnight.”
My head slumped down from exhaustion and I fell asleep again. Another slap across my face caused me to rise from my slumber. How long had I been out for?
Opening my eyes, I saw seven vampires around the table. Del Rubio, Roydell and Timson were the only attendees I knew by name, but I’d seen a few others around the house before and I’d gotten acquainted with the medium earlier.
Speaking of the young vampire, he put a full glass of water on the table, near the center. He surrounded the glass of water with candles. Timson strutted around like he was King of the World. The vampire with a lean, narrow face, strong jaw and aquiline nose was wearing black pants and a dress shirt with a thin brown leather tie, knotted with a silver and turquoise clasp. His purple top hat bordered on ridiculous, hiding his short jet-black hair.
The medium lit the Sterno device under the cauldron, refreshed the incense sticks and lit a few torches ensconced in the walls. The other vampires started taking their seats at the table. Roydell sat across from me, shaking his head slowly while maintaining eye contact in an attempt to intimidate me.
Roydell had pale skin, bright lips, big puffy cheeks and reddish-brown eyes. He sported a wicked combover with his thinning black hair. The vampire was dressed to impress in purple suit pants and a matching dress shirt. Over top, he was wearing an Egyptian blue long jacket and matching bow tie. I would love to kick his ass in his nice Sunday clothes.
The medium announced, “Join hands, gentlemen.”
The vampires held each other’s hands. The two on either side of me reached out as far as they could to join hands and exclude me from the energy circle. I had the urge to lean forward and bite one of their forearms.
The medium stood at the table with his eyes closed and his lips moving. His eyes opened and he said, “We come here to talk to Reginald Danforth, a proud member of the Purple Clan of vampires. Welcome Reg to our meeting.”
In soft tones, but not in unison, the vampires orally welcomed Reg to enter the room.
The medium spoke calmly, “If you are in the area, please give us a sign. If you thirst, drink some water.”
The glass in the middle of the table shook violently and water spilled out of the cylinder, drenching the table.
The medium smiled deviously and shifted his gaze upon me. He wiped the sides of his mouth and continued, “To prove that we are your true friends, we shall make an offering. As a new vampire, the elders of the house take many blood samples. We will prove our association with you by offering up some of your blood.”
He picked up the glass bottle of blood and popped off the top. Tilting the bottle, the blood started to pour out and into the smoking cauldron. The blood sizzled harshly and steam poured out of the fiery cauldron. Little burnt circlets of blood jumped out of the cauldron and speckled the table.
“Reginald Danforth, would you like to join us?” asked the medium.
The cup of water on the table started to shake again and spilled over onto its side. One of the vampires threw a small towel on the spill.
The medium looked around the table. “He is with us.” He lifted his head toward the ceiling. “I ask you, Reginald, are you with us?”
Reg’s voice came through loud and clear as he answered, “I am with you. Please save me.”
Sweat glazed over my entire body again and I shifted around uncomfortably.
The medium stared at Reg’s wheelchair and said, “We are trying to save you, good friend. Is there anyone out there that would know where you are right now?”
“Mike Merlino,” Reg announced. Everyone’s eyes shifted to me. The words were like a stake through my heart. I’d never felt so rotten before.
Reg continued, “Ask him. He knows why. I don’t know where I am. I feel like I’m stuck inside a tree. I need help.”
It was as if someone had taken a sickle and started swinging wildly, shredding my heart strings. I was a monster. If I told them where Reg was, there wasn’t a guarantee they could bring him back. The vampires didn’t like me, I knew that and that this could all be a ploy to kill me. My eyes glanced around the room for the speakers, wondering if this was an elaborate set up.
I tried to play dumb. “This is all staged bullshit. I know you guys too well.”
The medium said, “Pay no attention to that negative energy. Reginald, do you have any idea of where you are?”
“I’m fucking buried underground near a tree,” Reg said, angry, desperate. “Somebody get me out of here,” he begged.
Suddenly the table shook wildly, knocking the candles over and sending the vampires scrambling to put out the
flames.
Roydell said, “I think we’ve heard enough to know that you were involved with this, Merlino.” He walked around the table as he spoke. “Come clean or we will have to take action.” He pulled out a knife and walked over to me. The vampire jammed the point of the blade into the table and it stuck there.
A few vampires left, and one came into the room. A series of thunder strikes erupted, almost sounding like a Gatling gun. Strange, I couldn’t hear the rain anymore.
Del Rubio drew his Colt Revolver and jabbed the cold barrel into the side of my neck. “Stop the lying, right now,” he shouted.
With a loud boom, the door busted open and slammed into the wall. Gunshots broke out, peppering the room with the speed of a semi-automatic. Roydell took the knife out of the table and ducked behind me.
How had I got caught in the middle of a vampire war? Just my fucking luck.
A vamp near the door turned to run, but a spray of bullets hit him in the back. His body twisted and turned from the onslaught until he finally fell on his face. A full-figured woman emerged through the door.
Glenda appeared holding a Barrett REC 7. I could have sworn there was a halo above her head. She smiled at me, looked around the room, and screamed, “What’s is up fuckers? Rember me?” she slurred the words, obviously drunk.
I wondered why would they remember her?
Someone fired at Glenda, and my heart stopped as she stood completely still. I counted the shots. Two, three, four, five, six. Click. Click.
My new best friend laughed, and her eyes darted around the room. “Wow. Someone is a terrible shot. Too bad for you fuckers, my aim is true.”
Glenda Gold raised the semi-automatic rifle and started another firing spree.
Chapter 19
Even with bullets whistling past my head, I felt safe. Perhaps foolishly, considering Glenda appeared in the midst of another bender. Roydell had climbed under the table to hide, brushing by my leg as he ducked for cover.