“How many vamps do you think we’re looking at?” Julia slapped a fresh magazine into her MP-5 and charged it.
“Don’t know. Ten, twenty. Maybe more.”
“Ain’t gonna be less than twenny,” Cecil said. “You thinkin’ Osric might send vamps for the TOC?”
“If Osric’s spent enough time training Helena to get past the ghoul stage and get her lucid enough to have a nice little conversation with Sharon before she got fanged, then he’ll use her to get to Ellenshaw,” Acheson said. “That’s what I’m worried about. Ellenshaw’s way too raw to deal with Helena right now.”
“He’s gonna have to eventually,” Nacho said. “And eventually happens real soon.”
Acheson kept his eyes riveted on the street ahead, the small swath of it the headlights revealed to him. The Excursion pounded through puddles on the freeway as he maneuvered it around a stalled semi. There was nothing else to say.
***
The man had identified himself as Tremaine, and from his clipped British accent, Claudia knew he was the man who had ordered her to the meeting point. Seated in the Jaguar beside him was an Asian woman. As they drove through the stormy night for a few brief minutes, Claudia came to realize that some of the cues she would look for in a woman weren’t there, and from what she could tell from the back seat, the woman’s bone structure wasn’t right. She was actually a he.
Tremaine pulled the car into a walled compound. The gate was nearly invisible from the street, and the high walls shielded a huge mansion from view. Claudia normally would have gasped at the sight of such grandeur, but any excitement she might have felt was lost in the sea of sickness that suddenly assaulted her. Moaning, she covered her mouth as tears slipped past her closed eyelids. She could sense Osric’s black mark inside the mansion, but that wasn’t the full reason for her discomfort. There was something wrong here, something terribly wrong. And Osric was only a tiny part of it.
My God, what is he going to do to us? What is he going to let loose on the world?
It was then she sensed Chiho. Like a drowning sailor finding a lifeline, Claudia latched onto Chiho’s signature, felt the warmth of it and drew strength from her presence. She was very close now, and some of the black dread slipped away from Claudia, making room for rational thought.
Tremaine stopped the car in front of the huge dwelling. Palm trees were bent by the wind, and rain slashed at everything. The car rocked from side to side. Tremaine switched off the engine and looked at Claudia in the back seat.
“A few moments longer and you’ll be reunited with your true love. The happiest of times for you, yes?”
Claudia said nothing.
Tremaine sneered when he said, “On behalf of my master… thanks so much for coming.”
The door beside Claudia opened, and a tall vampire with a gaunt, pale face that was adorned by a Franz Josef-style mustache hauled her from the Mercedes’ dry interior. He regarded her with complete disinterest. Silently, he hustled her up the fieldstone walk toward the huge double doors that led into the mansion. Tremaine and his companion followed. Claudia held up one hand in a vain attempt to ward off the driving rain. Though she was exposed for less than twenty seconds, she was drenched by the time the vampire dragged her across the threshold. She slipped on the entry foyer’s marble floor.
“Careful, darling,” Tremaine said. “You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself now, of all times.” There was a malevolent glee in his voice. She turned and glared at him.
“Are you the pitcher or the catcher?” she asked him, cutting her eyes over to the transgendered man standing beside Tremaine.
Tremaine’s face remained unchanged, but Claudia felt the anger surge from him.
“So impetuous—do watch that your sweet mouth doesn’t land you in any trouble you can’t handle, dearie.”
“The Master commands you to join him in the study,” the hulking vampire told Tremaine. He spoke with a heavy, Germanic accent. Tremaine continued to glare at Claudia. His companion ran a hand through her long hair, fussing with it, annoyed that it had gotten so wet.
“Tremaine, do not keep the Master waiting,” the vampire said, this time with more iron in his voice.
Tremaine snapped out of it and nodded curtly, obsequiously. “Of course,” he said. “Come with me, darling.” He pulled his companion along with him, walking deeper into the house, their footfalls echoing in the marble-lined hallway.
“We will wait here,” the vampire told Claudia. He didn’t look at her, nor did he appear to be bothered by the fact he was dripping wet. He kept a hand on Claudia’s arm, and the contact was sickening. When she tried to pull free, the vampire’s grip tightened.
“When can I see Chiho?” Claudia asked.
“When it is time,” the vampire responded.
“When will that be?”
The vampire said nothing, only stood in the middle of the foyer like a statue. Claudia sighed and reached out with her senses. Chiho was very near now.
***
“My Master.” Tremaine bowed his head before Osric as he led Holly into the mansion’s study. It was a richly furnished room, full of gleaming wood and ancient texts that appeared to have been bought more for prestige than for reading. An expensive telescope stood by the wide window that overlooked the swimming pool and, beyond that, the lights of Los Angeles.
Osric was alone in the study, peering out the window. He turned toward Tremaine, his face expressionless. Still, when his unholy eyes turned in Holly’s direction, Tremaine sensed a slight change in his master’s carriage. As if he was offended… or disgusted.
“You’ve done your duties well, Tremaine,” Osric said. “For years, you’ve been a faithful servant. A most suitable guardian during the daylight hours, and your assistance continued well into the time when darkness reigns. I must take the time to thank you for such dedicated service.”
Tremaine bowed again, and his heart fluttered. Tonight is the time! he told himself, jubilant. Tonight, we join the ranks of my Master’s Family, and we live forever!
“The pleasure has been all mine, my Master,” Tremaine said. “It has been my great passion to do your bidding, no matter what the hour.” And serve he had. Regardless of his personal condition, be he well or sick, Tremaine had always discharged his duties with seasoned competence. To have done otherwise would have invited death.
Tremaine motioned to Holly. “My Master, may I introduce my companion? This is Holly.”
Osric offered Holly a blank expression, his dark eyes revealing nothing. Holly was uncertain how to respond, and Tremaine picked up on it. She seemed poised on the knife edge between fear and reason, which was not an unusual prospect when in the presence of a being as powerful as Osric. Osric himself remained neutral while examining Holly for the longest of moments. Finally, he turned back to Tremaine.
“Even in death, there is a natural order to things, Tremaine,” he said smoothly. He swept an arm toward the window, indicating the glittering city below. “Mankind has long displayed a trend toward destroying that order, wouldn’t you agree? They’ve created things that are great and perhaps even awe-inspiring, but at the same time…” He looked at Holly. “They’ve given rise to sheer abominations.”
Tremaine knew what was going to happen, even though he could never have guessed things would end in such a way. To him, Osric had been the entity whose uncaring and outright dismissal of the human condition was legendary. Tremaine had presumed that Holly’s true biological nature would be of no interest to him. He was surprised to discover that this was not the case. Old European mores were difficult to shake at the most inconvenient of times.
“My Master,” he said, his voice weak, his protest lacking conviction.
Osric crossed the gap between him and Holly in an instant. His movements were so rapid that they defied the naked eye, registering as a brief blur. It ended when Holly’s body hit the floor, her life snuffed out by Osric’s neck-shattering blow. The vampire stood over the warm corpse for a mome
nt, looking upon it with utter revulsion.
“That you should bring such a thing before me unnerves me greatly, Tremaine,” he said, his voice sharp and vicious. “I cared not how you spent your time when not in my service, but to display before me such a creature is completely unacceptable.”
Tremaine stared at Holly’s body. Tears clouded his vision, and his breath caught in his throat.
“Yes, my Master. Please forgive my stupidity. I never intended to offend you,” he said, his voice a tortured whisper.
“Dear Tremaine.” Osric drifted over to his side and placed a cold hand on his shoulder, forcing Tremaine to look up at him. Osric smiled at him like a father would.
“I know what it is you want. And you have labored for it long and hard. It’s your final wish to join my Family, is it not?”
Tremaine nodded, and a small beam of joy perforated the darkness of his grief. “Yes, my Master. I would give anything to walk the world as you do.”
“And who would not, if they were in your position?” Osric said. “Why continue to exist as a mere mortal, your every move and thought dedicated to continuing your pitiful, weak existence? Why live as the hunted, when you can live as the hunter? Why stagger beneath the weight of all that a mortal must carry—the pathetic emotion, the fear, the drudgery—when another world, a beautiful, dark world, waits nearby?”
“Why indeed?” Tremaine agreed.
Osric looked at him. “Do you feel you are worthy, Tremaine? Are you worthy of being inducted into my Family?”
Tremaine nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, my Master, I am worthy! I’ve done everything you’ve asked for, haven’t I? I’ve been as loyal and faithful as any servant you’ve ever had, isn’t this true? Have I ever imperiled you or yours in the past?”
“You have been loyal,” Osric said, “but your faith has always been in question. I saw this crisis in you fully on the night of the ceremony upstairs, when we made our offering to the Ancient Ones. Your heart, my friend, simply wasn’t in it.”
“I… I was only shocked by what I saw, my Master! It was surprising to see those children consumed by the mirror and what lies beyond it—”
“What lies beyond the surface of the mirror is that which drives me, Tremaine. That which commands me. That which owns me, as I own the Family and your pitiful life. What you say is not the truth, dear Tremaine—remember, I’ve had centuries to study humankind, and I can tell a—what’s the term?—a ‘bullshit artist’ from any honest man. And you, dear Tremaine, are trying to give me a load of bullshit, aren’t you?” Osric smiled, revealing his fangs, and his eyes flashed.
“No,” Tremaine whispered. “No, my Master… it’s not what you think!”
In a flash, Osric twisted Tremaine’s head completely around. Tremaine twitched only once, and Osric allowed the body to collapse across the other corpse. The vampire looked down at them with a soft smile on his face.
“Oh Tremaine,” he murmured. “Telling me I’m mistaken was simply the wrong thing to do.”
He left the library and called for Stahl to bring the Nero woman to him.
23
The rain and wind weren’t as bothersome to Sharon as they should have been as she crawled through the dense brush that hid the mansion’s walls from the road. She could thank the Turning for that. She felt the changes taking place in her body, changes that were both sickening and exhilarating. External stimuli, such as cold and pain, were fading into the background while her visual and aural acuity grew sharper, revealing things to her that she had difficulty filtering out—the wind rustling through individual leaves, the sounds of insects crawling in the brush as they sought shelter from the storm, the heartbeat of a feral cat as it scurried away from the mansion grounds. But with the changes came a queer pain as well, a blossoming ache that spread from her core and radiated outward to her limbs. It was a pain that was difficult to ignore because it was so extraordinary. Just the same, Sharon pushed it from her mind as best she could.
When will I start to turn into an animal? Will I feel it coming, or will it just happen like a light turning on?
She made it to the vine-covered wall and crept to her right, keeping the wall between herself and the mansion. She could sense movement on the grounds—a few humans (she sensed their beating hearts) and more than a few vampires, who emitted a psychic pattern she was capable of receiving in an odd way, much like she could have perceived a subtle breeze moving through a large room. She wondered if they detected her, and if so, was it with greater accuracy? She wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case, though it meant her attempts to close on the property unnoticed were useless. Just the same, she fell back on the training she’d received during her time with the Marine Corps: approach without being seen. Sensing a presence was one thing; putting eyeballs on target was another.
So she continued along the wall, pushing through the weeds and foliage until she reached the end, where it angled around toward the rear of the property. Sharon followed it several hundred yards from the road, until the wall doubled back and paralleled the street she’d left behind.
And that was when she heard the sound of car engines through the ruckus of the hurricane. Even to her heightened senses, they were barely audible. She looked in the direction they seemed to come from and saw nothing but trees and scrub brush that had escaped landscaping. She knew it would be the Containment Team. The engine noises faded away, as if they had never been. The team would abandon their vehicles and come the rest of the way on foot.
Sharon moved along the wall until she found a small section devoid of vines or brush. Without a second thought, she scurried up its face like a squirrel, scaling its ten-foot height without difficulty. It wasn’t until she crouched atop it that she marveled at the ease of her ascent. She checked her hands, opening and closing her fingers. They seemed to be working normally. She rubbed them together, but felt nothing unusual. Placing one palm on the wall, she dragged it back and forth and felt it sticking here and there. She looked at the palm again. The ridging there had changed, and as she watched, it reverted back to its normal state.
She realized that she was casting a perfect silhouette while perched on the wall. She scampered down the wall’s interior face and lowered herself into the landscaped bushes in the back yard. Keeping low to the ground, she edged deeper into the bushes.
The lawn was large and well-maintained. On the far side, the wall gave way to a black, wrought-iron fence that provided an unobstructed view of the city lights below. The view was still stunning, despite the storm. Parts of Hollywood and West Hollywood were dark, as was a great deal of the city toward the Pacific, but those portions of that still had power gleamed beautifully. And on the hills above her, the Griffith Park Observatory sat like an alabaster beacon, shining in the darkness that pervaded the mountains and canyons.
Figures moved inside the mansion. Some were human, and a few of those held assault rifles. They were well armed, but there were only three of them. Sharon reached out with her growing senses. They revealed several more vampires inside, and Sharon glimpsed a familiar face: the tall, dark-haired vamp she had faced down during the hospital raid. As soon as her eyes alighted on him, he stopped and looked out the window into the back yard. Sharon kept still as the vampire swept his gaze across the yard. He peered in Sharon’s direction, then shook his head and continued on with a smile.
Sharon reeled in her senses. It was possible that by using them, she could be advertising her presence like an attack jet’s radar energy could warn an enemy of its approach. It took a moment, but she was able to shut herself down. Convinced that she was as invisible as she ever would be, she kept her eyes on the well-lit mansion as she slithered through the bushes to another position.
***
North Edgemont Street was almost a river choked with assorted debris that washed down from the Griffith Park mountains above. The streetlights were out. In the darkness, sporadic flashes of light blossomed as live power lines writhed about on the ground, dra
gged back and forth by the raging wind. All the stylish residences on the narrow street were dark, and several had been hastily boarded up. Here and there, candlelight glowed in the windows. The TOC van was parked on the street just south of the Cromwell Avenue intersection. Acheson pulled the Excursion up behind the van, killed the lights and engine, and unfastened his seat belt.
“I’m gonna walk the dogs real quick,” Nacho said.
Acheson nodded. “Take care of them, then wait with them here. We’ll be in the TOC hammering out a plan of attack, and I want you to keep eyes out.”
“Roger that.” Nacho was already clipping leashes to the dogs’ harnesses.
Acheson led Julia and Cecil to the van. They crammed themselves inside the vehicle and tried not to get rainwater on the electronics. Erskine Fiedler was on one of the encrypted voice-only channels.
“There’s no chance of arranging an air strike, not in those conditions. The Air Force won’t release even satellite-guided weaponry,” Fiedler told them. The high-frequency satellite communications system made his voice sound even reedier than usual. “The only option on the table right now is a direct action operation. Good work on the warehouse in El Segundo, by the way—it’s still burning.”
Acheson ignored the accolade. “Director, is there anything you can throw our way? We’re going up against Osric direct, and he’s got to be surrounded by the biggest and baddest.”
“I don’t like the odds either, Mark. But you’re all we have. We could try and get LAPD surged into the area, but suspect they wouldn’t be much of a help.”
Acheson rubbed his eyes. The weariness he felt was almost debilitating, but he knew the rest of the team felt the same way and would be taking their cues from him. He straightened up and looked at the glowing electronics before him.
City Of The Damned: Expanded Edition Page 33