"Is it true you came from Thailand? Why did you leave there? What do you want with your own group of Predators?"
Charles hung his head like a scolded child, but all the time he was sidling closer to the other vampire. "I've been lonely, that's all," he lied.
The second he was within reach, he flew at the Predator and clasped his hands around his throat. He roared in his face, his mouth wide, his fangs exposed. Their battle lasted long minutes, for this was a powerful creature, one much older than Charles. At one point he thought he might be defeated, but their fierce engagement aroused the attention of other vampires in the area, luckily the same ones Charles had won over to his side. They joined with their leader and, together, they tore the enemy apart.
When it was over, Charles stood in the empty street, the torn body at his feet, and thought: Mentor won't be hearing from this one, at least.
After two weeks, the night came to take his motley crew of loners away from the city. Before morning dawned they would be elsewhere, having left the city for good. Until he had enough vampires to lead his crusade, they needed a secluded place where men wouldn't interfere with them. They must be a secret society until they could defeat Mentor and gather more Predators into their way of thinking.
Charlie paused in his walk and glanced up at the starry night. He felt as brilliant and invincible as the almond moon that rode across the sky. He wore a suit of black raw silk made by the finest European tailors and walked in the most supple and expensive leather shoes. He loved his new body and draped it in appropriate style. He hadn't yet gained control over the vast funds of his lost corporation, but money had been easy to come by. He simply took the cash and the credit cards from his victims, using them at the best boutiques in the shopping district. He feared no law enforcement in the world. As he told his followers: There is no law. We make the law. Gods do not obey man's decrees.
He'd almost finished his work in the city. He'd taken two victims tonight and was as flushed and pink as a cherub. He passed by Sydney's waterfront where great sailboats bobbed languorously in the slips. He spent time admiring the elegant lines of these spectacularly rich ships, their prominent brows, and their pristine hulls glistening from tiny lights strung along the pier. He walked down one long pier, his footsteps ringing softly as waves lapped beneath the pilings. It was almost time to take his apostles inland to an isolated, wild place where they could plot an uprising.
It would start in Australia and then move to the Americas. Once he had an army behind him, no one could stop him. Not Mentor or Ross, not any president, king, or premier. Military organizations with advanced weapons and warfare technology would be ineffectual against them. They would hide, they would strike in the night, and even the world's armies would not find them or be able to stop them.
You can't kill a dead man, he thought darkly, laughing to himself. You can't even threaten a dead man.
Charles turned around and retraced his steps. He'd researched the topography of Australia and decided where to take his Predators. They would go into the Blue Mountains just two hours inland from Sydney and the sea. In that inhospitable terrain of mountainous cliffs made of stone and ringed by thick forests, man would not detect them. Down in the valleys were small villages, surrounded by tall grasses, crocodiles, emus, and kangaroos. When his followers hungered, they would find ready prey. From the Blue Mountains, Charlie could make forays into the other cities and gather more Predators to his cause, bringing them together until there were enough to leave the country and invade other continents. Strength would lie in numbers. When he had a multitude at his command, they would advance on the States.
Lately he'd been getting telepathic messages from vampires in Europe, begging to join him. They were tired, they said, of living the genteel secret life. They wanted to rule, to destroy. They wanted to live free and unconstrained lives. No one, until now, had listened to their appeals. They felt like bugs pinned to corkboard, flapping their wings and crying for release. Charlie told them to come. Hurry. Delay not a moment.
They arrived daily, taken in by Charlie's groups and tutored in the plan of annihilation. Charlie went to meet each and every one, shaking their hands, putting an arm around their shoulders, and assuring them they'd made the right decision.
He also asked them, "Has Mentor heard of me? Have the vampire nations been talking of us?"
"No," they assured him. "We have been circumspect. No one has heard from Mentor, not a word."
Charlie expected the other Predators probably knew something was afoot. So many couldn't disappear from favorite hunting grounds and not be missed. He had some doubts about Mentor knowing, too, but it was all right as long as Mentor didn't find out where they were gathering. Charles realized he knew no fear now that he'd found so many who believed in him. If Mentor knew something was up, the information was surely too scattered for him to follow up. Charlie hadn't felt so free and powerful in all his eighty-eight years walking the Earth. He had procured the loyalty of the fiercest vampires he could find, vampires with excessive supernatural talent and murderous intent. They would protect him if Mentor tried to take him back to the monastery. No one would ever imprison him again.
~*~
Mentor spoke with Dolan of his worries.
"I think Charles Upton's gathering an army."
"Where is he? Let's go get him." Dolan had just finished bathing and now stood at the sink, combing his hair.
Mentor moved down the hall and knew Dolan followed at his back. "I'm not sure yet where he is."
"You don't know?"
"He's . . . I think he was in Europe. Maybe in Australia. All I'm getting are vague impressions. He's being careful. But he's contacting Predators."
"Are they going with him?"
Mentor stood before the dead fireplace, staring into the dark depths. "I think they are. I've spoken to the clans in the major cities overseas. They suspect a Predator is gathering the renegades. Everywhere they're missing, renegades from all over, some in Europe, some in Asia, others in Australia. Charles must have them cloaking their minds. Once they do that, I can't pick up anything else.”
“Should I go there to search him out?"
Mentor thought about it then shook his head. "You won't find him. He would have closed down all the channels."
"Damn!"
"It's all right. He can't stay hidden forever. If he's got a lot of renegade Predators with him, sooner or later one of them will slip up and I'll know where they are."
"He must be pretty good if you can't find him."
Mentor smiled. "You think I'm infallible, don't you? If I were, he wouldn't have gotten away to begin with. No, I'm afraid I fail, just like everyone else."
"Not like anyone else," Dolan said. "You're not like anyone I've ever known."
Mentor sent Dolan on an errand to calm the fears of a new vampire, a Natural, who had come into the vampire life only days before. Dolan had learned how to make his touch calm the ruffled spirit. Over the years he had grown until he was able to handle some of the pressing affairs that took so much of Mentor's time.
With Dolan out of the house, Mentor sent word to Ross to join him. An hour later Ross came through the door. He was agitated. "I had to leave a meeting. How can I run Upton's corporation if I have to keep leaving when you call for me?"
"You have David to handle it for you."
"Who do you think my meeting was with?"
Mentor gave him a dark look and Ross settled down. He took a seat on the sofa. "All right, what's this about Upton and an army?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think he's gathered quite a few to his side."
"Let's go bust him."
Mentor almost laughed. "You've been watching cop movies, haven't you?"
Ross shrugged. "Well? Why don't we? Where is he?”
“I don't know yet."
Ross stood up. "You don't know? You called me from a meeting to tell me you don't know how to find him? Then why am I here?"
"Ross, I've bee
n picking up some communications overseas. Italy, England, and in Australia, too. Sydney. Upton's finding renegades to join him."
"Well, which is it? Which country is he in?"
"I can't pinpoint it. No one knows."
"If you figure out where he is, let me know. I'll go take care of him."
They spoke a while longer about Upton Enterprises and how to funnel the profits from them into different accounts. Ross took a good portion of these profits, but in deference to Mentor's wishes, and to keep the peace, he let some of it be used to support Craven houses.
When Ross left, Mentor caught himself pacing the house, worrying again. It hadn't helped much to unburden himself to Dolan and to Ross. The scant information he had just didn't give any of them enough to go on. But they all knew Upton was up to something. If they could only find him.
If they could only stop him in time.
~*~
They just kept coming.
Balthazar's assassins.
Dell had to take vacation time from her job to stay at home to watch for them. Some days her parents missed work, too, and stayed with Malachi on the ranch. Sometimes her uncles and aunts came, milling around the yard like dark crows in their muted clothes until she sent them away again, hoping the next hours would be quiet.
Now she sat in the living room with her son, her mind lost in thought. Malachi sat on the sofa, morose as he'd ever been, watching her. At eighteen he should have a mother nearing forty, a woman showing a little age and maturity. But his mother looked no older than he. She had died at seventeen, a year younger than he was right now, and since then she'd never aged a day. When she readied to go out of the house for work or shopping she wore makeup that disguised her youth, magically creating the mask of an older woman. Malachi's father was thirty-nine, his fortieth birthday coming up next week. He still looked younger than his age, but much older, of course, than Malachi's vampire mother.
Dell realized with a shock that one day her son would be as old as his dad and his mother would still look seventeen. She'd look like his daughter.
She couldn't imagine it. And worse, one day he would be an elderly man, humped over and shrunken, maybe bald, definitely wrinkled, and she would still be a girl.
She shook her head to clear it of the vision and Malachi noticed. "You'll have to tell me what you're thinking," she said, seeing he waited for her to speak.
She meant she wouldn't read his mind, because he hated it.
"Oh, it was nothing."
"Not true," she said. "It's these renegades. They're beginning to get to you."
He nodded. "It's them, too. How long do we keep killing vampires and burning them on the back forty?"
"We don't have a back forty."
He smiled. "It's just a stupid expression, Mom. The back one hundred, then."
"I don't know how long they'll keep coming. Mentor said he was going to try to talk to . . ."
"The silver wolf?"
"Balthazar. He's not a wolf, you know he isn't. It's just how he likes to appear in dreams."
"Balthazar." Malachi rolled the name around his tongue like a marble. "Balthazar is such a strange name.”
“He was originally Turkish."
"In the time of the Huns, I guess."
"I don't really know," she said. "It's probable he's very old, but maybe not that old." She tried to smile.
"Mom . . ." He hesitated.
She had a feeling she wouldn't like what he might say. "Go ahead, say it," she said, as if she knew.
"I have to leave, you know that. They might hurt Dad. Or you. Or all of us. I can't take that chance."
He wouldn't look at her. She'd give him that Mother Frown, the disapproving look that could make him hunch his shoulders if he did and he probably knew it. She softened her gaze. "You don't have to," she said, her voice a little strained. "I told you Mentor will talk to Balthazar. He'll get him to stop this. I don't know why he's doing it. For years he left you alone."
"I don't think he'll stop."
Dell didn't think so either, but she'd never admit it. She would go herself to Balthazar if she had to. She'd make him leave them alone.
She and her son sat quietly for another hour, both lost in their thoughts, and then Ryan came indoors from the garage. She went with him to bed, leaving Malachi alone in the living room.
"Good night, son," Ryan called.
"'Night, Dad."
Dell merely kissed him on the top of his head and wandered through the house to the bedroom, following her husband.
~*~
Malachi lay that night on top of his covers, his arms flung wide. He couldn't get comfortable. He couldn't be still. He kept turning and tossing, sleep out of the question. Just when he thought he'd be awake all night, he drifted off into a troubled sleep.
He woke at the sound of a muffled voice. He sat up in bed, the sheets gripped in his fists. "Mom? Dad?"
No one answered him. He left the bed and padded down the hall to his parents' bedroom. The door stood ajar. That was unusual. They always kept their door closed at night.
"Mom?"
When he opened the door, he saw the bed was empty. His heart lurched and he turned, hurrying down the dark hallway toward the center of the house. He knew they weren't there. The place was empty. He really had heard something, a voice, but now that voice was gone.
He found the back door open to the night. He stood on the threshold looking out at the land. There was no moon.
He breathed in deeply and smelled the scent of Predators.
"Mom!"
He sent out a signal of distress and alarm. His mother answered in his mind with a vision. She was running as fast as she could. Ahead of her, Predators fled with Malachi's father.
Malachi leaped from the threshold of the back door to the ground, clearing the steps. He raced across the land that was open fields until he came to the edge of the woods where he knew his parents had gone.
He hurried through dense forest, flying past shadows of tree trunks and limbs overhead. He came upon his mother leaning over her knees. He caught her by the waist and swung her around to face him.
"Dad?"
"They took him. They were too fast. I couldn't catch them."
Malachi took off again, his mother's voice calling at his back. He moved like a laser through the woods. He couldn't let them hurt his dad. He was going to leave just so this would never happen.
He saw them ahead, silhouettes moving through the trees. Two vampires and his father. They had him by the arms and they weren't even touching the ground. Malachi screamed and they turned, snarling at him.
"He's ours, boy," one of the Predators said.
Malachi raced forward, both his fists blasting into the faces of the vampires holding his father. They dropped him, but came back strong to attack Malachi. He felt them on his back, dragging him down. Suddenly one was jerked off him so that he was able to turn and get his hands around the throat of the other. He saw his mother battling a vampire, the two of them falling and coming to their feet again to fly at one another.
Malachi knocked the Predator away and saw from the comer of his eye a small flame. He looked and saw his father lighting debris with his lighter. Where had he gotten the lighter? And then he remembered his father was dressed when he'd found him with the vampires. He must have been up in the house, unable to sleep, when they came. If the fire took . . . if it got big enough . . .
He fought on with the Predator, the woods filling with their death struggle. The fire caught and rose, licking up the bark of a pine, crackling as it caught the limbs on fire. Firelights danced all around, lighting up the woods.
Malachi caught hold of the Predator and threw him with all his force into the fire. His clothes caught flame and he went running away into the forest. A scream sounded, and Malachi turned to see his mother had pushed the other Predator into the flames.
They all watched as he was consumed, twirling around, his arms out, his mouth open in a soundless scream.
"That settles it," Malachi said. "I'm leaving. I have to.”
“Why don't I leave?" his father asked. "I'm the one most vulnerable."
"You can't, Dad. I won't let you run. You have your vet practice and people depend on you. The vampires won't come here if I go."
"But, Malachi . . ." His mother saw his face and didn't finish her protest.
"You just don't change the mind of a fanatic. Balthazar's been dogging me since I was little. He'll keep sending them for me. There'll be more and more of them. They'll be stronger ones. Or he might end up coming himself. What if one of them catches Dad here alone or out riding his horse—kidnaps him when we're not around?"
Dell looked away. "I won't let that happen."
"You might not be able to stop it. Look what they did tonight."
She didn't reply, but her frown was answer enough. She felt guilt she hadn't been with Ryan to stop the attackers before they could seize him. She still wore her sleeping gown, a thin cotton slip with an embroidered top. She was dirty and her hair was wild.
"I'm just going to go until this is over," Malachi said.
"You need me," Dell said quietly.
"I'll be all right."
"You're my . . ."
"Son. That gives me your powers, or most of them. I'm not defenseless. Didn't I handle the last two?" He meant the two vampires who'd come as a team only days before. He'd gotten the machete and this time wielded it himself, his rage a frightening thing. He was like a tornado, spinning and striking deathblows with precision. No matter how fast the Predators moved, he stayed with them, backing them from the house into the yard and then across an entire acre, spinning and striking, the machete like a silver saw blade separating bone and flesh, tendon and muscles. When it was over, Malachi stood over his handiwork, not even breathing hard, the bloody machete hanging from his hand at his side.
SCROLLS OF THE DEAD-3 Complete Vampire Novels-A Trilogy Page 44