Through the Moon Gate and Other Tales of Vampirism

by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  All at once, she realized her mouth had been babbling words, and she clamped it shut as one final word exploded into her consciousness. Suicide. If he fails, he plans to kill himself!

  She found herself gazing into hard, black eyes set in a face gone suddenly pale beneath a Florida tan.

  What did I say aloud? She had no idea.

  “Who!” he demanded. “Who’s the police spy?”

  Her throat emitted strangled noises.

  His hand slapped the table, bouncing the cards. “Who!”

  She forced her eyes back to the cards, expecting the images to be ten disconnected entities devoid of meaning. But the story was still clear. “A young woman you admire and trust, the one person you’d never suspect.” Oh, God! Why did I say that?

  He subsided into his chair, shocked wonder suffusing his face. “Of course! I should have known. All the clues were there and I couldn’t see it.” His attention snapped back to the cards. “What will happen if I just don’t show?”

  She swallowed and gritted her teeth, wishing desperately for Titus to walk in, then awash in relief that he wasn’t there, she said, “I don’t know. How could I possibly know? I can’t foretell the future.” Her voice broke into a squeak.

  “Look at the cards. Tell me!” He was sweating. When she didn’t move, he slapped the second three bills down on top of the first and reached into his breast pocket again to pull forth another three. He waved them at her as if she were an informant holding out for a higher bribe.

  She wanted the money. She suddenly realized she’d been wrong all evening. The challenge wasn’t to resist Titus. The challenge was to resist abuse of power. Overwhelmed with shame, she recalled the ruddy glow of pride she’d felt when the crowd around her had murmured in awe. And there had been greed, too, as she saw the money being heaped into her bowl.

  When she lowered her eyes again, the cards were just bits of colored paper. It would serve her right if she could never read again. She shook her head. “I don’t know. Nobody can know. If I said something, it would be a lie.” She pushed the money back across the table at him. “I was only guessing, and I was probably wrong.” Relief sighed through her like a mountain breeze. Truth was its own reward.

  He sat back and stared at her, stone faced.

  She gave the money another little shove, and began collecting her cards.

  On the periphery of her vision, she saw his hand move, flashing a heavy gold ring and watch. The next moment, hard hands gripped her wrists and she was yanked to her feet.

  One of the men slammed the door of the room, while simultaneously, a hand clamped over her mouth and she was pinned against at tall, hard body. “She knows too much!”

  “No. She’s a charlatan like all the others. She was just guessing. It’s not hard. Most everyone here knew we had a shipment coming in tonight.”

  “Well, if she didn’t learn it from her cards, she certainly knows it all now. We have to make sure of her.”

  Gabby’s heart slammed against her ribs. She could hardly breathe, but she prayed with all her might. Are You really sure this is what You want? I’m sorry for what I did. I’ve learned a lesson. Isn’t that enough? Do I have to die, too? And aside, in her mind, the thought came, Oh, Titus!

  If she hadn’t tried so hard to read her own future in the cards before she came, she’d probably have gone with him instead of into the house, and none of this would have happened. The cards can’t foretell the future. Why can’t I learn that?

  The man before her nodded to one of his men. “Take care of it.” He went to peer out the little window which had a view of the steep slope behind the house. “Up there. See the rock? Drop her over the edge of that. Get some liquor into her first. Regrettable accident.” He turned. “Anybody seen a phone on this floor?”

  He went out and before she knew it, Gabby was wrapped around and tied securely by her sister’s shawl. Somebody’s silk handkerchief was tied around her mouth. That hurt. Her mouth was already dry, her voice husky with overuse. But she struggled anyway. She managed to kick the money bowl over as they dragged her out of the room. It made a satisfying crash. But nobody came. Nobody noticed as they carried her down the narrow, twisting back staircase, and past the dark and deserted kitchen. The fifth man, the one she’d been reading for, joined them and led the way out the back door.

  Vines and branches slapped her face, cold dew mixing with the hot tears that dripped from her eyes trailing backwards up her forehead because she was upside down.

  She found herself being carried up the steep path she’d spotted from the front garden. Where it passed under the trees, the underbrush had been cut back forming a tunnel. A very dark tunnel. She struggled, hoping the man carrying her would trip and fall. Her moving weight did cause him to stagger. He slung her to the ground and slapped her face. “Stop it, or we’ll all have at you before we dump you.”

  She glanced at the leader, who was carrying a large bottle of liquor. He seemed disinterested. Well, it would take up some time. Anything for a reprieve. It was a nice, logical thought but when the man shouldered her body once more, she couldn’t bring herself to further defiance. What’s wrong with me? People survive rape!

  Before she could talk herself into it, she was rolled onto a cold, hard surface that was almost smooth. It sloped to one side and she rolled involuntarily, which brought the panorama of the Hudson River into view. There were fewer buildings lit now, and moonlight was coming from the west. But it was still breathtaking. Oh, Titus!

  When she looked to see what her captors were doing, she found them passing the bottle. The last one wiped his mouth and let out a gusty sigh. “Too good to waste on her.”

  “Let’s get this over with,” said the leader as if he really didn’t want to kill her. “Take the gag off and hold her mouth open.”

  One of them moved behind her and propped her up, cutting the gag and tilting her chin back. “Pour.”

  Another man held the neck of the bottle up to her mouth. “Drink. It’ll make this easier on you.”

  Liquor gurgled into her mouth. She gathered it in her cheek, and when the man holding her clamped his fingers over her nose, she sprayed the stuff out hard. Even without swallowing it, the fumes triggered a coughing fit.

  Someone slapped her face.

  “Take it easy,” said the leader. “We don’t want to leave any evidence of a fight. I want this done perfectly.”

  The one holding her head shifted his grip and one hand crept down her back toward her buttocks. “Drink, girl, or you’ll get it right in there!”

  She yelped and surged away from his stiff finger, glad of the layers of thick skirt she wore.

  Both hands came back to her head again. “Pour!”

  Her head was forced back. She saw the five men in vampire costumes silhouetted against the stars as they bent over her. Higher up the sheer mountain, a very large oak leaned out above the rock. There was no wind, but the branches shook as she fastened her eyes on them and tried to pray. I said do what You will with me. I meant it. Honest.

  Deep in the shadow, there was a figure hanging from the biggest branch. It looked human.

  Without warning, the oak heaved and a blood curdling scream split the air. The man holding her jerked back, gasping, and the others turned. There above them, blotting out the sky, was a huge bat with red eyes and needle sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Teeth and talons dripped thick, red blood. As it fell on them, engulfing them in a putrid stench, it screamed again.

  She could feel the gust of wind from its powerfully beating wings. The sense of horror that washed through her made her previous terror seem like a silly illusion.

  The man behind her dropped her. The liquor bottle fell and broke. The creature screamed again. In a mad scramble, the men ran. And something was settling down to eat her.

  Without transition it seemed, Titus was bending over her, rubbing her wrists and patting her face. “Gabby? Gabby, are you all right? Wake up. Come on. You can do it. You only fain
ted. It’s all right now.”

  She was untied and Titus’s Dracula cape was laid over her like a blanket. “I must have passed out. You’ll never believe what I thought I saw.”

  “What did you see?”

  “It—“ No, he’d never believe it. She didn’t believe it. “Where did you come from?”

  “The tree. I jumped down yelling, and those men ran.”

  She struggled to sit up. “Men. It wasn’t a nightmare. It really happened. They were going to kill me. You were right. There were dealers here.” That much was real, but the rest, the whole house had been thick with smoke. God alone knew what sort of drug mixture she had in her blood by now. Small wonder she’d hallucinated.

  “Can you walk, Gabby? We’d better get out of here. They might come back.”

  She got up and took off his cape. It was too long. No matter what she did with it, she’d trip on it. “Come on. My car’s out front,” she said, trying to sound brave. She doubted she even sounded sane. Shock. It’s shock. But even now, nothing seemed quite real.

  He took her hand and led her down the dark, twisting trail as if it were broad daylight.

  There were still lights on in the house. “Titus, I’m not going back for my things. Where’s your car?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just get yourself out of here.”

  They picked their way around the house as quietly as they could, then dashed down the long flights of steps to 9W. Panting, afraid they’d been heard, she paused, one hand groping in her belt pouch for her car keys. “Titus, how can I thank you for saving my life?”

  “By not dying now. Are you sure you can drive?”

  She held out the car key. It wasn’t shaking. Yet. “Sure. They didn’t get any liquor into me. But what about you?”

  He walked her to the Mazda. “Don’t worry about me. Just get yourself away. I have my own transportation.”

  As she unlocked the door, he opened it and eased her into the driver’s seat. He leaned over and brushed her forehead with his lips. “Go!” He closed the door quietly.

  Feeling beautiful again, she started the motor and eased away from the wall, catching sight of him in her right side mirror. The red lined cape was billowing in the wind like wings, and a stray bit of moonlight made his eyes glow red. She thought she saw a shimmering aura around him that throbbed with power. It had to be an optical illusion. It wasn’t at all like any aura she’d ever seen before.

  She shuddered.

  Oh, come on! Don’t be ridiculous. The combination of passive drug smoking with liquor fumes must have warped her brain.

  “I jumped down yelling and those men ran.” Fifty yards away and picking up speed, she glanced into her rear view mirror again, suddenly unable to understand why she had believed it when he’d said it.

  Why had she scoffed at the thinness of his profile while forgetting that he’d lifted her up the steps quite easily? And what had he been doing in the tree? She was a reporter. She didn’t fail to ask obvious questions like that.

  She was also not stupid. She couldn’t fail to see the obvious answer; he is a real vampire.

  Her skin crawled and she clamped her chattering teeth together, determined to get home before she had any kind of reaction. At least she was headed south into New Jersey. She’d pick up Route 4 at the G.W. Bridge and be home in no time. Then she could shake and cry until dawn.

  Vampires disintegrated at dawn and reality returned full force. That’s what I need. A dose of reality.

  Titus was probably the police spy she’d thought was the Page of Swords. That was why he was able to handle those men so well. He was trained for this kind of thing, and he just wanted her out of there so the bust would go down smoothly. She’d see the whole thing on Eye Witness News in the morning.

  And she’d never see him or anyone from that party again, including her boss. She’d call in her resignation in the morning, borrow some money from her mother, take off for California.

  She clung to that resolution all the way home.

  TRUE HOSPITALITY

  “True Hospitality” is the direct sequel to “False Prophecy,” which is a prequel to the novel Those of My Blood by Jacqueline Lichtenberg. info: http://www.simegen.com/jl/

  At two thirty in the morning, there were no parking places on Gabby’s street. She had to park around the corner and walk to the dilapidated three family house where she had the attic apartment. She tiptoed up the stairs, not wanting her tread to wake everyone.

  She showered, rinsed out the dirty and torn witch’s costume she’d worn to read Tarot at the Halloween party, and was still too overwrought to sleep. In nightgown and robe, she pulled out her suitcases and emptied her closet and drawers into them. Everything still fit. Since she’d moved out of her mother’s house, she hadn’t had the money to buy clothes.

  While she packed, she made lists of things to do before leaving town. She’d have to store her dishes, tv, stereo, and microwave at her mother’s. Everything else would fit in the car, which needed servicing. She could be in LA or maybe San Diego by the end of next week.

  Even though her mind kept up a patter of orderly planning, another part of her was gibbering, arguing, screaming to jump in the car, drive straight down to Newark and get on a plane using her credit card. Of course, organized crime could trace her through the card use.

  She told herself the thought was paranoid. Why should they bother? So what if she’d read Tarot for a superstitious drug dealer who had tried to murder her at the Halloween party whereupon a vampire had rescued her.

  Oh, come on! In the bright light of her apartment, she could believe she’d just been spooked out by the drug-smoke at the party and some realistic costumes. Titus had surely been an undercover cop in a really good Dracula costume.

  But every time the old house creaked or a board popped, she could think of a thousand reasons why they might be coming after her. She schooled herself not to listen to the noises.

  By the time she latched the last suitcase, her hands were shaking, her stomach was queasy, and her plans had crystallized. As soon as it was late enough, she’d drive straight to her mother’s, borrow the money she’d need, and hit the road. Everything else could be handled by phone or mail, leaving as little trace as possible.

  She had started packing the contents of her desk and a few light housekeeping essentials into boxes when there was a thumping in the hall.

  There shouldn’t be anyone on her landing this time of night. Heart in mouth, she froze in the middle of the living room, eyelids peeled back so far her eyeballs felt cold.

  The door handle moved.

  Like a horror movie.

  She pulled her robe around her and crept toward the door. “Who is it?”

  A man’s voice grunted.

  With her hand on the door handle, she felt the strength of the one who had hold of the other side of the handle. She grabbed the telephone that was close to the door. “I’m calling the police!”

  “It’s Titus!” the voice groaned. Titus’ voice. “Gabby, please. Let me in!”

  She dropped the half-dialed phone and scrabbled at the locks on the door, fumbled to get the inside key into the lock, and finally yanked the door open. Titus had been slumped against the door, and as she opened it, his body fell across the threshold. She leaped back with a squeal.

  Whimpering, he mumbled, “May I please come in?” There was blood all over his face and hands but it was a mannerly request.

  Instantly, she was on her knees beside him. “Dear God, what happened to you? Can you move? I don’t think I can lift you inside.”

  His hand groped for purchase on her wrist. “Help me.”

  He tried to pull himself in, and she dragged him the rest of the way. With the door closed, cutting off the frigid draft, his shaking and moaning subsided. Shock. Elevate the feet. Keep him warm. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  She grabbed for the phone, but he kicked it away. “No!”

  “You need a doctor!”

 
His voice was stronger this time. “I’ll be all right. Gabby they control the hospitals!”

  Her imagination supplied the image of them. Which means he’s not with the police.

  The man had saved her life. She bent to examine the wounds. “Is anything broken? Have you been shot?”

  “No, just scratches. I’ll be—” He broke off with a gasp as she pulled at his blood stiffened jacket and new, bright blood flowed.

  “You have been shot!”

  “No. The business end of a garden rake.”

  As the stiff material came away in her hands, she saw it was in shreds.

  “Just hide me until morning, and I’ll be out of here,” said Titus.

  “It was the dealers, wasn’t it? You went to spy on their business.”

  “Yes, I was there. The police got them.” He twisted with a grimace and reached his right hand up to her face, one finger extended to touch her between the eyes. “Most of them.”

  Regardless of the risk, I have to call the police. It was her last truly coherent thought. His voice continued, a cascade of soothing sound that seemed to make compelling sense. She didn’t understand why she was doing as he asked, but she never thought to question her motives.

  She helped him up onto the sofa, which was vinyl covered, and wouldn’t be ruined by the blood. Then, she stripped him and bathed his wounds with warm water, not bothering with disinfectant or soap, and gave him her robe to wear.

  Titus rolled his head aside to eye one of the large bay windows, gray with approaching dawn. “What time is it?”

  “Six thirty-five.”

  “A closet. Gabby, you must have an inside closet with no windows?

  “The bedroom.”

  He struggled up. “That will do.” His arm came heavily onto her shoulders. “Help me.”

  She supported him and guided him to the bedroom. “You think they’ll shoot you through the windows?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure no one could have followed me. I wouldn’t put you in danger. Surely you know that.”