by S. K. Ryder
Dominic looked like he contemplated leaping out the door and making a run for it in the dense woods surrounding the rest area they had pulled into.
“Don’t even think about it. That we definitely don’t have time for.”
Those eyes, so soft and troubled a minute ago, flashed hard, dark anger at him. A justified reaction, Jackson reminded himself. Their last encounter had been anything but cordial.
Dominic snatched up the phone, stopped the recording, and tapped to play. The video began with Dominic speaking in French, his expression grim. This produced the expected scoff. “Another digital fabrication?” But he listened and soon grew quiet. Jackson heard his name, and Dominic cut him another kind of look. Uncertain but curious. The narrative continued to the administration of the shot, the silence that followed, the sudden, shocked awakening, and right on to the moment he had picked up the phone. When the video ended, Dominic dropped his hands into his lap and stared out the window at the misty forest in the wan morning light. His voice was just as vague. “What am I?”
“He didn’t tell you that? On the video?”
“He said you would explain it only when I was ready to hear it.” Dominic turned to face Jackson. “He said that you are . . . an intimate friend?”
“You could say that,” he conceded with a touch of reluctance. Leave it to the bloodsucking bastard to call it an ‘intimate’ friendship, whatever the hell that meant to him. But given the thoughtful calm that settled over Dominic, maybe that was the key to getting through to him. Intimacy was his language, after all. Day or night. “So are you ready? To hear it?”
Dominic gave the smallest of nods.
The truth fell off Jackson’s tongue in all its dark, bloody, horrifying glory. “You, my friend, are a vampire.”
For a full half minute, maybe more, there was no reaction. Dominic held his gaze, studied his face. “Absurde.”
“It’s true. You are immortal, have incredible strength along with some really terrifying powers, and, yes, you drink blood.”
“You are mad.” A vehement hiss of denial. But he wasn’t running. Jackson considered that promising.
“Then explain what you just saw on your phone. You’re the one who stopped the recording. It’s unedited. So what was that?”
“I don’t—”
“Your vampire self is as stubborn as you are. He wants to see the sun again, wants to be human again. I think he’s nuts, but, yes, he—you—are my friend.” Jackson took a deep breath. “We didn’t start out that way, you and I, but you’ve earned my respect as a decent guy in a tough spot. I think I’ve earned yours as well or you wouldn’t be trusting me with your life right now. And I know you well enough to know that when you say you want something, I better not stand in your way. I got this suppressant made for you.” He unzipped the black case and showed him the vials and syringes, one of them used. “Because that’s what you wanted. Well, it didn’t go as you expected, because you couldn’t remember your other reality. Why? You didn’t want to. We’ve respected your wishes and kept you in the dark as it were, but we don’t have time for that anymore. You need to be who and what you are when the sun’s up. And you need to be that right now.”
No reaction. Then, “Why?”
“Because you’re not just any vampire. You are the lord of them all. And there are about two hundred here who don’t agree with your policies. We have to surprise them. During the day. You got us some backup earlier.” He indicated the other end of the deserted lot with a glance. Two RCMP vehicles waited there—a huge 4x4 pickup and a slightly smaller SUV. The occupants had made the mistake of answering Jackson’s request for assistance and now acted as their very compelled, very well-armed security detail. “But what we really need is your strength and speed.”
A slow sneer spread over Dominic’s face. “You must think me soft in the head.”
“No, actually your head is unusually hard.”
He leaned closer, pinning Jackson with his eyes. No hint of the supernatural in that look. Just a mind spinning the truth. “Vampires,” he made air quotes with both hands, “are not awake during the day, non? So why do you need one to surprise them when they are asleep?”
“They’re underground. It’s possible they’re deep enough where the sun won’t have them quite as unconscious as you would be up here. Also, you’re much easier to travel with when you’re not in a body bag,” Jackson added deadpan.
The derisive glower turned sour.
“Next question?”
Whatever Dominic was going to say was interrupted by his phone ringing in his hands. Cassidy’s smiling face popped up on the screen. He answered with a hesitant “Hello?”
Her tiny voice stuttered. She must have hoped to catch the other version of him. A brief discussion in French ensued in which the word ‘vampire’ featured prominently. Dominic’s free hand alternated between wild gesticulation, shoving back his hair, and rubbing a spot over the bridge of his nose. Finally, he handed the phone to Jackson. “She wants to speak with you.”
“Cass,” he greeted, pressing the phone to his ear in hopes of keeping her words from carrying. Dominic went back to staring out the window.
“You’ve got your hands full, I see,” she said.
“It’s been an interesting discussion.”
“I did what I could. But I don’t think he’s fully ready yet. You have to push him. But carefully. There’s a chance that when he remembers, he’ll pass out. The sun can get to him then.”
“Nice.” Like he wasn’t juggling enough shit storms already.
She promptly added another one. “Did he tell you about the attack at the house?”
“The what?”
“No, don’t say anything. Just listen. I told him about this earlier, but his daylight self doesn’t need to know.”
He glanced at Dominic who seemed lost in his own thoughts. Cassidy quickly refreshed his memory about the vampiress who had skipped out on the colony and brought Dominic the ashes of his murdered emissary. She and Ryan, her human partner, had been staying at the house under the apparently mistaken belief that they would be safe there. Early this morning, two of Esteban’s vampires arrived and confronted her. None of which interested Jackson half so much as his sister’s well-being. “Sam?”
“Sam’s shaken up, but unharmed. So is Étienne. Serge saved their necks. Literally. But Natalia was killed. And that’s not the half of it. They gloated about how they tracked her down through Ryan. He was compelled to report on her whereabouts and activities directly back to Esteban. He had no idea he was doing it. And he reported on way more than his mistress. He heard things about what we’re doing, Jack. Esteban knows you’re coming.”
Not sure if he could keep his face neutral, Jackson turned to stare out his side window. A gray chill settled on his shoulders. This explained vampire Dominic’s caginess earlier. They were both walking into a trap, their only advantage being knowledge of its existence and two RCMP patrols.
“Do they know where you are?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted with a trace of apprehension. “We never told anyone the hotel we’re in, but we’re planning to be out all day today. And tonight we’ll have Isao and his crew. We should be okay. But listen. That’s not why I called. There is something else he doesn’t know about yet.” Jackson heard her draw a shaky breath. “Dominic’s sister is missing. Genevie left Saint Barthélemy for France three days ago to attend a funeral for someone who’s alive and well. She never got there.”
~ ~ ~
“I am hungry,” Dominic said the moment Jackson got off the phone. “And not for blood.”
Nothing about his demeanor indicated that he had heard a word of what Cassidy had shared with Jackson or her last request before terminating the call. “Take care of him for me, Jack.”
With a sm
all sigh, Jackson nodded and started the car. It was going to be a long day.
The first place they found serving at this hour was the Lost Moose Café which was part of a two-hose gas station and had a distinct last-century, lost-in-the-woods feel. They pulled in along with their armed escort and parked near a muddy pickup truck and two camper trailers. Compelled to accept every request from Jackson as if it were their own idea, the officers settled in another booth and ordered themselves hearty breakfasts, fortifying themselves for the day’s challenges. They were Jackson’s secret weapon. No one knew about them, not even Cassidy, certainly not Esteban. Less certain was whether Esteban would know to expect Jackson and Dominic during the day or not.
The day-walking vampire laid into a plate of scrambled eggs with all the trimmings as though he hadn’t eaten in a week. For once he didn’t complain about the taste and only glared at Jackson when he explained what would happen to all that food come sundown.
Jackson knew denial when he saw it. And maybe a touch of fear, too. He didn’t add to it with Cassidy’s suspicion that Genevie might be in the clutches of Adilla’s minions.
According to the map Dominic had marked up, the entrance to the mine Adilla had converted into a summer lair was only an hour ahead. Much too soon. They had to wait.
Jackson drove into the closest town, Banff, the heart of a National Park, and took Dominic shopping. The picturesque resort town nestled at the base of a fog-shrouded Mount Rundle was cluttered with stores catering to outdoor enthusiasts and wealthy tourists. By the time he was done, they both cut dashing figures in sturdy trekking boots, convertible pants, hiking shirts, and utility vests, the personification of rugged outdoorsmen—even if one of them looked like he should be strutting the outfit down a Paris runway rather than a Canadian sidewalk.
“We need to look like we belong here,” Jackson explained. “Their daytime security people will expect city-types or tourists. Dressed like this we should be able to BS our way past them.”
“You do this often? This BS thing?”
Jackson grimaced and scratched his chin which was overdue for a shave. “It’s my secret superpower.”
They met their RCMP escorts in the agreed-upon location outside town and followed the 4x4 over the winding roads while the SUV brought up the rear. The passing landscape seemed to hold Dominic transfixed. A granite cliff towered to their right. A glacier-fed river rushed to their left. On the far bank, an unbroken blanket of evergreen forest sloped up to disappear into soggy gray mists. The smooth street snaking through it all and humming with traffic felt like an invader rather than a permanent fixture of infrastructure. But it beat tramping through the wilderness, Jackson thought and wondered if the road would take them all the way to their destination.
It didn’t.
Just past noon their escort slowed and turned by a plain brown sign indicating a campground. For several minutes they serpentined up the side of a mountain, engine gears grinding. Then, just as Jackson spied the first outposts of camp sites up ahead, the RCMP truck turned again, this time onto a muddy access road heading back down and barely wide enough for one vehicle. Gravel popped under their tires and the suspension swayed wildly over the uneven ruts.
“Are you sure this is where we want to go?” Dominic asked when the Private Property: Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted sign went by. It was bright red and impossible to miss.
“Very sure,” Jackson said, setting his jaw. “Somewhere down there, a couple of hundred vampires are sleeping. The defenses are only going to get tighter from here on.”
He felt Dominic’s eyes on him, almost heard him thinking, too. “Don’t doubt yourself, Nick. There is nothing here that can hurt you.”
“Because I am immortal?” Only a slight scoff this time.
“Yes. And stronger than any one of them.”
The road ended not at a mine entrance, but in a tiny village. Ten weather-beaten cabins clustered around a central square bordering a creek of gin-clear water. A newer-looking barn sat off to one side. It was surrounded by a vegetable garden and a lush pasture where several black-and-white cows grazed. Solar panels studded its sloped roof and topped the cabins as well. A few chickens darted from the approaching cars and disappeared underneath a pickup truck and the rusting entrails of a tractor.
A large man with bushy white hair and a thick mustache emerged from one cabin as they pulled up. He wore sandals on his stockinged feet and a pair of stained coveralls over a faded blue-checked shirt. He looked a bit like an oversize duck as he waddled toward them.
“Terrifying security,” Dominic murmured.
“Did you all get lost?” the duck called, smiling, as the officers, Jackson, and Dominic piled out of their cars.
“I don’t know,” Jackson said, smiling as well. “We’re looking for a mine. Seen one around here?”
Officer Campbell answered in an official tone. “It’s farther back in the woods, sir. There’s a trail over there.” He pointed where another, still smaller road was blocked by a crossbar and a sign promising danger of rock fall ahead.
Both Campbell and his partner, Officer Rao, looked at them expectantly. Apparently escorting them here and watching for trouble was as far as their compulsion had gone. Jackson cleared his throat and stepped forward. “We’re here with . . . the . . . Alberta Mines Inspection Commission,” he said, hoping he sounded even remotely plausible and painfully aware that he probably was the only human here with a clear head.
The cops took it from there, parroting Jackson’s words with grave authority.
“Inspection?” the duck man said, his hands disappearing behind the front panel of his coveralls. “No need. We all know it’s too dangerous to go in there. And not too many tourists lose their way down here.”
“We know what we’re doing,” Jackson assured in his most confident tone.
“They know what they’re doing,” Campbell repeated. The more senior of the two officers, he propped his hands on his hips as he said this, steadfast and also drawing attention to his pistol.
“They’re experts,” confirmed Rao. He was the fresher, younger one, but was tall and wide and all around intimidating.
“This is crazy,” Dominic muttered from where he leaned against the rental’s hood.
Jackson spoke out of the side of his mouth. “No, this is your magic at work.”
The duck cast a doubtful look at Jackson and Dominic. While Jackson smiled and maintained an easy, open stance, Dominic stood with his arms crossed. He had tied his hair back and wore a new pair of aviator sunglasses against the day’s gray light. Absolutely nothing about him screamed ‘mine inspector.’
“Are you now,” said the man, the welcome draining from his expression. Behind him, two more men emerged from another cottage along with a woman. Another couple came from the barn. Most appeared to be in their late middle years, early retirees perhaps, living off the grid with a few younger men sprinkled in.
“What’s going on, Earl?” one of the latter, a tall, faded redhead said. His fearsome scowl belied his almost delicate nasal voice.
“Mine inspectors,” the duck, Earl, replied. Both men raked Jackson and Dominic with hard, assessing looks that made Jackson miss his sidearm. “It’s not any safer in there for you either, you know.”
“We’ll be fine,” Jackson said. He popped the SUV’s trunk and retrieved his backpack which contained two folded body bags and his favorite Bowie knife. An assortment of climbing gear was clipped to the outside. He also grabbed three full-spectrum torches. With their hefty weight, these could double as clubs. He added one to the backpack and pushed another at Dominic. “Officers? Nick? Shall we?”
While Campbell and Rao headed for the access road, Dominic separated from the car with obvious reluctance, his expression unreadable, the skepticism ebbing. The sense of having walked into an alternate reality
clearly wasn’t lost on him.
“All right, all right, just a minute,” Earl said. “Seems we can’t convince you to keep your necks safe, so we might as well show you around. Terry?”
“Sure thing. Least we can do,” redhead agreed. “Tim, do you mind? Carl? Paul? Wanna go for a walk?”
Three others moved closer.
“No need,” Jackson blurted. “Nick, tell them we’ll be okay on our own.”
Dominic gave him a queer look, but then did as told, repeating Jackson’s words—with an edge of doubt and no hint at compulsion.
Jackson smothered a groan.
“Quebec, eh?” Earl said, hearing Dominic’s accent. His grin revealed stained teeth.
“Saint Barthélemy.”
“Oh, pardon-moi.”
The sarcasm left Dominic unmoved. Or confused. Jackson couldn’t tell which. Turning on a heel, he headed for the mine.
For a trail to a condemned mine, it was remarkably well-maintained as it wound through a narrow canyon of spruce which seasoned the air with their fragrant tang. As they walked, the rushing burble of the creek turned into a more consistent rumble.
Around an abrupt turn, the forest ended against a sheer rockface. A little farther up the path, a waterfall tumbled down, sending clouds of white mist into the shadowy forest.
“There you go. Mine,” the redhead, Terry, announced.
Jackson eyed the black cavern that stared back at him. It was big enough to swallow a locomotive—or two hundred vampires. “This doesn’t look like any mine I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s not. It starts inside the cave.”
“Nice.” Ignoring the thud of his heart in the back of his throat, he flipped on the torch. “You should stay out here. Nick and I won’t be long.”