Gates of Eden: Starter Library

by Theophilus Monroe

  26

  TRACKING DOWN ANYONE from the Order of the Morning Dawn is a difficult task. To think of it, my own father had been some kind of bigwig in the Order and I was a teenage witch without a clue. Of course, he didn’t know I was a witch, either.

  My point is this: the fact that one’s own family might not even know about one’s participation in the Order goes to show how secretive they really are. First of all, the Order’s existence is predicated on the reality of vampires and witches. Most people, if they knew about the Order, would think they were a bunch of wackos. I mean, who in their right mind believes in vampires, anyway?

  But second and probably more importantly, they’re secretive because they know if vampires ever discovered where they were hiding, every last member would become a meal in the span of single a night. Not that they’d taste great. They weren’t pure, in spite of their pious pretenses, so they wouldn’t be sweet. But aside from their persecution of witches and vampires, they were fairly bland folks. Not to mention, “self-righteous prick” is one of my least favorite flavors of human.

  I had no reason to suspect that Alice was working with anyone else from the Order apart from Charlotte, who might not even have been a member of the Order herself. If there were more members in the region, you’d think they would have sent several members the night Alice attacked me in Pere Antoine Alley. In order to get to Alice, I had to get Charlotte’s attention. What better way to do that than go after the one thing I knew she actually cared about: the church.

  My hope was that Charlotte would have no choice but to revive Alice in order to handle me. It was a gamble, of course—one that I knew could backfire. If there were other capable Order members in the area, they’d probably send them rather than interrupt Alice’s mission—which was, the best I could gather, the only real chance they had at eliminating me anyway. But even if that was the case, at the very least I’d succeed in rooting out other members of the Order.

  For my plan to work, I had to break every rule Nico had ever taught me. My attack would have to be both public and memorable. I’d compel my victims to contact the Order. If they didn’t know what I was talking about, I could still make them forget. I could make anyone who saw me forget, truth be told. But a public attack, something bold and in the open, would be too much for the Order to ignore.

  I was dressed for the kill. A black lacy dress, knee-high boots, a red bow in my hair and red lipstick to match. I stuck my wand in one of my bootstraps. Yes, I was an out-of-practice witch, but if Alice showed up I knew a few spells that might come in handy. Witchcraft is like riding a bike—if it’s been a while you might be a little off-balance at first, but it doesn’t take long until you’re back at full power.

  And there was a reason why Moll believed in me, a reason why she’d gone to such great lengths to ensure my survival. It was because of my ability in the craft. The power that came through vampirism was just, in her view at least, a bonus. After more than a century, I’d almost forgotten why Moll made me this way.

  I’d resented her for years. She’d used me. She made me into a monster. But if I was a monster, I had to admit I wore it well. And based on my own reflection, the way I’d dolled myself up, I had to say I liked what I’d become. It was time to let go of petty resentments. It was time to embrace who I was. It was time to do what I was made for—to destroy the Order of the Morning Dawn, beginning with Alice.

  I started with a nun, who I must say was quite tasty. I found her in the nave of the cathedral before anyone else had arrived for compline. She was scrubbing the floors. She was a good woman, I could tell. My bite confirmed it—the perfect blend of sweet and sour, not a hint of spice. It’s the kind of sweetness that only one who’s retained a semblance of childlike innocence acquires. Quite a rarity. She was a treat. Even more priceless was the look of horror on her face when I’d finished. “Run off, little one,” I said. “Tell the Order what happened here.”

  “The Order of Saint Benedict?” the nun asked.

  “The Order of the Morning Dawn.”

  “I do not know who they are,” the nun replied, “but should I discover it, I will tell them.”

  I cringed. It figured that someone as pure as this nun wouldn’t be mixed up in the Order. I looked at her again, locking eyes with the woman. “Forget what happened here today. Tell no one.”

  There was no sense, I figured, in having this woman—who was as good and decent as they come—living with the horror of my attack. I needed another victim, someone more likely to have connections to the Order.

  I found a priest in the little room behind the chancel, the one where they keep all the vestments and robes. He was as likely to know of the Order as anyone. He had halfway buttoned up his cassock when I seized him from behind and sank my fangs into his neck. He tasted like shit. If you’re going to be a sinner, you’d better own it.

  The worse one was, though, if combined with the most pious of self-righteous pretenses created a combination of flavors that, honestly, made me want to hurl. I didn’t know what sort of unsavory behavior the priest was up to—I could only fashion a guess—but his villainy ran at least as deep as his masquerade of holiness.

  Spitting his own blood back in his face, I pushed him against the wall and looked in his eyes. “Tell the Order of the Morning Dawn what happened here. And when you’ve done that, cut your dick off.”

  I grabbed him by the cassock and threw him like a rag doll into the chancel. A chorus of screams echoed through the spacious cathedral as they saw their priest, his face covered in blood, reach into his cassock and retrieve his phone.

  He was calling someone in the Order—he knew who they were and was acting on my compulsion. So far, a success. Now I just had to hope that un-staking Alice was the move whoever the priest had contacted deemed most appropriate.

  It was a gamble, I admit, not knowing for sure what local resources the Order had in New Orleans. Hell, it had been news to me that they’d found their way here at all. My best guess was that they were here for one reason, a temporary assignment: to eliminate me.

  I ran like a blur to the back of the sanctuary. No one was leaving until I compelled them to forget. I’d succeeded in alerting the Order—no sense in creating more buzz on the streets. The last thing I needed was to attract some rogue vampire hunters. I could handle them easily enough, but my hands were full trying to eliminate Alice, trying to ensure her failure and my own survival.

  Even if Alice showed up, I couldn’t kill her. If I eviscerated her heart she’d end up in vampire hell indefinitely, still in a position to help Edwin escape. My plan was to use an old spell Moll had taught me. I retrieved a salt-infused crayon from my boot. It was a handy little trick, to mix the salt with wax, and it made creating sigils like this a lot easier.

  I quickly drew a circle on the ground in the nave of the cathedral and, extending my wand, cast magic into the perimeter by evoking the elements associated with each of the four cardinal directions. “Earth of the North, Fire of the South. Air of the East, and Water of the West.”

  Then, I drew a star in the middle. Here, I required the fifth element, spirit, also known as aether. I stepped outside of the circle, aimed my wand at the now fully-formed pentagram, and spoke the words I’d learned more than a century before. “Aether of life, spirit of death, bind all creatures who defy a mortal breath.”

  I felt my wand tingle. The tip illuminated with a golden glow, the power of aether. It meant that the spell had been a success. Now I just had to wait. I’d stay here the whole night if I needed to.

  I stood in the chancel, looking gorgeous as fuck. I felt like a goddess. An angel of darkness. A bitch with a score to settle.

  I heard the priest screaming in agony from the one of the back rooms.

  I smirked. I’d almost forgotten what I’d compelled him to do.

  27

  I CAST A second circle—another vampire trap—in the hallway behind the altar. I didn’t know where all the entrances and exits to this pla
ce were, but I was reasonably certain the front doors weren’t the only way in. I didn’t want to risk Alice taking a back door and bypassing my trap.

  I heard the priest’s phone ring from the back. He answered, still crying in pain from the loss of his manhood. “Yes,” the priest said through his whimpers. “She’s still here, I’m almost certain of it.”

  In spite of my enhanced hearing, I couldn’t quite make out what the voice on the other end of the phone was saying. But I could hear enough to discern a female voice. Charlotte, I presumed.

  I grinned slyly. My plan was working… someone was on the way. My trap wouldn’t hold humans—but if the Order was foolish enough to send humans after me, I’d do them in quickly. And if it really was Charlotte’s voice, if that’s who the priest had called, chances were better than not that Alice would be the one she sent.

  I heard a flurry of footsteps, rattling off like a machine gun. It had to be a vampire… it had to be…

  Sure enough.

  A black figure appeared in my trap, having run into it and then meeting the barrier that wouldn’t allow her to escape. She was shrouded by an oversized hood, as she’d been before. The Order’s sigil was embossed on the front of her robes.

  “Why don’t you take off your disguise?” I said as I approached. “I know it’s you, Alice.”

  She laughed as she lowered her hood. “Clever, Mercy. I have to hand it to you.”

  “You forget I was also a witch, bitch?” I asked, feeling like something of a poet.

  Alice shook her head. “How could I forget? But did you forget I was also a vampire?”

  I shrugged. “Of course not.”

  “You think by trapping me you can prevent your own demise. But I am only the original nightwalker, the first one made by your own bite. I’ve had quite some time to create other believers in our cause. Many who might take my place to ensure your demise.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I?” Alice asked. “Can you really afford to bank on that?”

  “I have someone in hell. Someone close to me. He’s only seen you.”

  “Ramon?” Alice asked. “Please… check with him again. The moment I returned, I staked another nightwalker to take my place. It’s just a matter of time before Edwin is finally free from the hell you and that witch damned him to.”

  “You’re so fucking hypocritical,” I said. “You pretend you’re so concerned about Edwin’s soul when all the while you create more vampires, damn more souls to the same eventual fate, just so you can eliminate me.”

  “I will not pretend that our methods aren’t without sin,” Alice said. “But we have a gracious God who will redeem us from hell.”

  “Edwin has been there for more than a hundred years and God hasn’t redeemed him yet.”

  “But for the Lord,” Alice said, “a day is like a thousand years. He has raised us up for that very purpose.”

  “And you think he’s going to send someone else to save you from hell?” I asked. “You’ve taken the very path of darkness you claim to abhor.”

  “The ends will justify the means,” Alice said.

  “Keep telling yourself that. But in the end you’re still my progeny, a spawn of the very evil you think you’re prepared to finally vanquish.”

  “Would you prefer I call you mommy? I mean, perhaps I’m more like you than you realize. You killed your father, after all. Now I’ll kill my vampire mother.”

  I rolled my eyes. Technically it was Nico who’d killed my father. She was there. She knew as much. But there was no sense in arguing with Alice over technicalities. She was just trying to get under my skin. “You know,” I said, “back when we were both still human, both still sick, you told me not to pay attention to my fears. Otherwise, fear would bind me, control me, force me to do things I’d never do. And now you’ve done things you’d never do—you created more vampires, all because I scare you to death.”

  Alice rolled her eyes. “I was never sick, you dumb bitch. I told you what I told you in hopes that you’d just accept your death gracefully.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So you were there as a plant the whole time?”

  “We suspected that witch, Moll, was going to try something. Your father knew about her the whole time. You really think he didn’t know you had become a witch? Why do you think he hated you so much?”

  I shrugged. “He hated women, generally. Even before I’d become a witch he treated me like shit.”

  Alice shook her head. “He loved you, Mercy. That’s why he sent me to the sanatorium… to help you accept your death, that you might be saved before you fell any deeper into the witch’s snares. But I see now we were too late.”

  “Why didn’t you just kill me in my hospital bed, then?”

  “What kind of monster do you take me for? Thou shalt not murder!”

  I chuckled. “You already said that the ends justify the means. Think of all the lives you could have saved if you’d just killed poor, sick Mercy Brown when you’d had the chance…”

  “I’m done talking to you. Why don’t you just do what you intended? Stake me, burn my heart, be done with it.”

  “You think I’m dumb?” I asked. “Send you back to hell so you can make sure Edwin escapes and I die?”

  Alice shook her head. “Makes no difference, like I said. We have others there now, likely leading him into the light as we speak.”

  “Clearly they’re having a hard time with that. I’m still here, after all.”

  “Patience, Mercy. Your end is nigh.”

  “Nigh? You really have a flair for the dramatic.”

  “Says the vampire dressed in Victorian gothic.”

  I smirked. “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?”

  “I don’t do girls,” Alice said.

  “I could make you,” I said. “It would be fun. Think of it—the abomination of it all, making out with your sexy vampire mother. You’d surely be beyond redemption after that.”

  “I’m immune to your allure.”

  “But I’ve developed new abilities… I’m much more difficult to resist now…”

  “Try me,” Alice said, challenging my abilities.

  “Punch yourself in the face.”

  Alice clenched her fist and feigned a punch over her shoulder. “Oops, looks like I missed.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What’s protecting you? I’ll figure it out…”

  “Good luck with that,” Alice said. “Chances are you’ll die before you do.”

  28

  I COULDN’T KEEP Alice at the cathedral. I also couldn’t let her go. Until I could get more information out of her about the other nightwalkers—who, if she was to be believed, were currently trying to usher my brother out of hell—I had to take her with me. I could check with Ramon later to see if what she’d been saying was true.

  But I couldn’t leave her alone here—all it would take was one person walking by for her to convince them scrub a tiny bit of salt-wax off the binding circle to let her go. So I used a sleeping spell. I wasn’t entirely sure it worked on vampires until I tried it. It’s a simple incantation. All I had to do was point my wand at her and say, “Slumber, slumber through the night. Do not awake ‘til morning’s light.”

  I realize these incantations are a little corny—there’s nothing magical about them, per se. Every spell must be first concocted in a cauldron. Then, by stirring the cauldron with a wand and speaking an incantation, the wand absorbs the spell and recalls it whenever a witch using the wand and speaks the proper words.

  Most of the little rhymes were Moll’s concoctions. A single word, she insisted, wouldn’t do. For instance, if I’d just used the world “sleep” to enchant my wand with this particular spell, I’d have to be careful never to speak the word “sleep” while holding my wand. Otherwise… well… the wand would fire, and someone—probably me—would find themselves snoozing until sunrise.

  Being a vampire, that wasn’t an accident I could afford. Some wi
tches use Latin words instead of rhymes. But even those, Moll warned, could be close enough to English words that if we got tongue-tied or we found ourselves in a place where Latin was spoken regularly, like the Catholic cathedral where I was at the moment, it could be problematic. A phrase, she insisted, was the safest bet. And if it rhymed, it would be easier to commit to memory.

  Considering I hadn’t spoken this particular incantation in a century and a half but still remembered it, I was inclined to believe that Moll was onto something. The incantations might be a little cheesy, but they worked.

  Alice immediately collapsed, asleep on the floor.

  I scrubbed off a bit of the binding circle with my foot—I certainly didn’t want to trap myself inside it—and picked her up, tossing her over my shoulder. Vampire strength is real. I quickly made my way back to Casa do Diabo, enchanted another binding circle, and tossed her inside. With a couple hours left until sunrise, I had just enough time to check with Ramon.

  “What the fuck, ma chérie?”

  I chuckled—not the first words I was expecting when I removed his stake. “Quick, I’ve got Alice trapped in a binding circle.”

  Ramon’s eyes widened. “Very good, very good. Keep her there.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” I said. “But she said she sent other nightwalkers—other vampires who work for the Order—into hell to lead Edwin into the light.”

  Ramon cocked his head. “I haven’t met them. Doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Hell is a large place. Best bet is to keep an eye on Edwin. If anyone is influencing him, I’ll know it.”

  “Isn’t Nico helping?”

  Ramon bit his lip. “Yes and no. He’s been trying to negotiate a bargain with Baron Samedi.”

  “Oh no…”

  Ramon shook his head. “It doesn’t sound good. He’s trying to get his soul back…”

  “To become human again?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.