Spirit Breaker

by William Massa

  The throaty roar of a motorbike bashed the air, breaking the chateau’s spell. Vincent turned his head and spotted a Harley gaining behind him. For a split second, Vincent caught a glimpse of the massive, leather-clad figure poised behind the handlebars. The vampire biker wasn’t wearing a helmet, his long mane of blonde hair trailing in the wind. This Twenty-First Century Viking flashed Vincent a menacing rock ’n’ roll grin, making sure to reveal his fangs. Another one of Dracula’s lost children (or experiments, depending on how one wanted to look at it) returning to pay his respects to their fallen master. As the biker pulled ahead, he cranked the engine for good measure. The bike’s engine wailed.

  Vincent tensed. The incident confirmed one thing he had known all along - he wasn’t looking forward to this dysfunctional family get-together.

  Not in the slightest.

  ***

  Vincent's car rolled up a driveway that was surrounded by vineyards on both sides and led right up to the chateau’s main gate. A six-foot-tall crumbling wall, overgrown with ivy, encircled the chateau. The wrought-iron gate stood wide open. It appeared that Vincent wasn’t the first to arrive today. He maneuvered his vehicle through the open gate and made his way up a cobbled, circular driveway dominated by a highly adorned, centuries-old ornamental stone fountain. Streams of water bubbled and poured from the mouths of Gothic nymphs. The fountain’s water appeared dark and murky.

  The rental car slid to a stop, joining the other vehicles parked around the fountain. The Harley that had just passed Vincent's car. A black Hummer. A sleek Porsche. Vincent guessed that they were all rentals, just like his own vehicle, but the choices told their own story and revealed the personalities of their individual drivers. Dracula had made a pretty eclectic group of monsters over the years. Monsters Vincent was about to interact with for the first time in decades.

  Once again Vincent wished he could be anywhere but this place but he didn’t really have a choice. He had never been friendly with the Count but he couldn’t deny the legacy that bound him to the creature and the other members of the clan. Dracula’s blood coursed through their veins. If Vincent had truly wanted to defy the Count, he’d have walked into the daylight long ago. Despite everything, Dracula was family. And one inevitable truth held true among all families – funerals brought everyone together. That’s what this would be. Dracula’s funeral.

  A fiery red Ferrari appeared in Vincent’s rear-view mirror as he killed the engine. Seconds later, a stunning blonde emerged from the sports car. She was wearing a sexy red dress that left little to the imagination. Vincent had met her once or twice over the last eighty years. Her name was Coraline and she’d been twenty-one when Dracula turned her, but she looked about five years older. According to Angelique - she was always up on clan gossip - Coraline was a failing starlet during the heyday of old Hollywood in the 1950s, a Marilyn Monroe wannabe riding the casting couch express toward a full-blown heroin addiction and the inevitable overdose. But Dracula took a shine to her and decided to add her to his freak pack.

  Vincent killed the engine, got out of the car and made his way up the pebbled walkway that led to the chateau’s main entrance. Vines climbed the façade of the chateau and tall trees nestled against the surface. Dracula had acquired the property right after World War II, Eastern Europe having lost its appeal in the wake of the Red Menace. The chateau was actually more of a bastide, a country home, originally built by wealthy Seventeenth Century citizens who sought to trade their sweltering city mansions for the cooler countryside during the hot summer months. The structure held about twenty rooms and could accommodate a large family with a full staff of servants. The property was brooding and Gothic but a pale shadow to the dark glory of Dracula’s castle back in Romania, which was a tourist attraction today. Funny how the world turned.

  Vincent passed a series of giant, cracked flowerpots when Coraline sidled up to him. She moved with grace and nearly unearthly sensuality as she fell in step with Vincent – maybe he was beginning to understand why Dracula added her to the family.

  “Hello, Vincent.” She embraced Vincent and he could smell her cloying perfume. It was too sweet and way too overpowering but it summed up who Coraline was – a woman who demanded to be noticed. Men who ignored her did so at their own peril.

  “Hi Coraline.”

  “This place sure is something else,” Coraline said with a smile that could shatter hearts. “Only thing missing is a lightning storm.”

  Vincent nodded.

  “Dracula always had a flair for the dramatic.”

  A youthful voice chimed in.

  “A nice way of saying he was hopelessly stuck in the past.”

  Vincent and Coraline turned toward the new arrival, a young teenage boy who approached at an unhurried pace. The kid, who wasn’t really a kid and was far older than either Vincent or Coraline, cocked his head at them both. His name was Sebastian and he looked to be fourteen but had actually seen two centuries turn. He wore black slacks, a dress shirt and a tie of the same color. He looked like a teen pretending to be an adult.

  Sebastian was an orphan and a thief who began his pick-pocketing career back in Victorian England, just another victim of social upheaval brought upon by the Industrial Revolution. His life had taken a sharp turn the night he tried to lift the Count’s purse but for some reason Dracula had spared Sebastian (Dracula used to call him his own Oliver Twist, a nickname the teenage vampire detested but had stuck). Sebastian hadn’t physically changed a day since that distant night but his frosty, ancient eyes betrayed his true age.

  “Sebastian, it's been a long time.”

  Vincent smiled warmly. He’d always liked this little devil.

  “Too long. Vincent, it's good to see you after all these years. Funny how there comes a point when only death seems to bring people together.”

  Footfalls sounded behind them, steel-heeled boots clicking across the gravel courtyard. Vincent fired a sideways glance at the approaching biker who moments earlier had been showing off his steed. Clad in black and brown leather, tattooed and studded, sporting faded jeans and a sleek pair of Ray-Bans, he looked like the perfect candidate for a Hells Angels recruitment poster. He appeared to be in his late twenties but strutted his stuff like a teenage punk who needed to get his ass kicked.

  The biker ignored Vincent and regarded Sebastian with a sneer. “No one told me this was going to be an after-school party.”

  “I'm two-hundred-and-ninety years old, asshole.”

  “Tell that to the bouncer next time you want to cop a feel at a titty bar.”

  Coraline was the sole person to laugh at the joke. Angelique had mentioned to Vincent that the former starlet had a thing for assholes, and it appeared she wasn’t far off the mark.

  Vincent watched as Sebastian gave the biker a long, measured look.

  “Meet Zane. The master’s most recent addition to the family.”

  Vincent held the biker’s stare as he turned toward him.

  “So you must be Vincent,” Zane said. I thought you turned your back on the clan.”

  Vincent didn’t comment. Zane took his silence as encouragement to lean closer.

  “No offense, buddy, but you don't look so tough to me.”

  “Maybe I'm not,” Vincent said.

  “That's not what Angelique says.”

  “I wouldn’t believe everything that comes out of her mouth.”

  ”Angelique says she never hunted with anyone as merciless as you.”

  This made Coraline perk up and she appraised Vincent with renewed curiosity.

  “She’s been known to exaggerate,” Vincent said.

  Vincent disliked Zane pretty much on sight. And with each new confrontational word that came out of the biker’s pierced mouth, Vincent doubted that he’d change his mind on the matter any time soon.

  Zane stepped even closer. He had about five inches and sixty pounds on Vincent, but the former Texas Ranger wasn’t impressed.

  “I know you guys had a hi
story,” Zane said. “But nowadays, she belongs to me.”

  “Last time I checked, Angelique didn't belong to anyone.”

  Zane smirked and turned toward the chateau. Coraline fell in step with him. The two vampires dipped through a series of arched columns supporting a large awning that bathed the main entrance in shadow.

  Vincent turned to Sebastian. “What’s his story?”

  “Drug-dealing biker asshole who crossed Dracula’s path in the 70s. Your ex seems to have taken a shine to him.”

  “Angelique likes to play with new toys. But she gets bored fast.”

  “She never got bored with you,” Sebastian noted.

  Vincent didn’t argue the point one way or another. Instead, he said, “You looking forward to this as much as I am?”

  Sebastian grinned. “You kidding? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  GARGOYLE KNIGHT

  When his kingdom is threatened by an ancient evil, a king is forced to make the ultimate sacrifice. If he is to defeat an army of monsters, he must become one himself! His victory carries a terrible price… An eternity frozen in stone.

  Fifteen centuries later, the Celtic warrior is awakened when the world needs him most. A stranger in a strange land with his only guide a beautiful archeology student, he must battle his old adversary once again, all while struggling with his own darkness. For he is by day a man, by night cursed to become… The GARGOYLE!

  “An Urban Fantasy Novel That Feels Fun and Alive. There's a cinematic feel in Gargoyle Knight...the experience is sweeping with entertaining action that builds to a satisfying climax.”

  Fantascize.com

  Match: A Supernatural Thriller

  Mark found her photo on a popular mobile dating site. Her name was Akasha, and she was beautiful. Seductive. Irresistible. She wrote that she was looking for friendship. Love. A real connection.

  But Akasha is concealing a horrible secret...

  Not everyone you meet online is who they claim to be.

  Sometimes they may not even be alive...