by Trisha Baker
Finally Ellie raised her lips and Jimmy felt a brief, disturbing thrill at her full lips doused in inviting, warm blood. "You, too, Jimmy."
"Huh?" he said, unable to get over how sexy Ellie looked, with newly grown hair falling past her shoulders and creamy white skin that showed no hint of the abuse she'd suffered through.
"You, too," Ellie said impatiently and gestured to the near dead boy at her side. "I feel you're weak. You have to feed, too."
Ellie was right. . .Jimmy felt limp and sluggish. Stretching out, he sank his teeth into the puncture holes Ellie had already made and drank what little blood she'd left for him. Scant though it was, Jimmy drank enough to restore his strength so he could leap up and catch Ellie in a bear hug.
"Thank God you're all right!" Jimmy started to bend his head and kiss her but Ellie pushed him away, looking frightened and confused.
"What happened, Jimmy? Where am I? Why did you transform me?"
"You don't remember anything?" Jimmy said, thinking what a blessing her amnesia was. Ellie had been put through hell. . . there was no need for her to remember the ugliness she'd suffered through.
Ellie frowned, deep in thought. "The last thing I remember is going to sleep last night. You proposed to me and we fell asleep. What happened? Is it nighttime already? Are Mom and Daddy and Lee back?"
"Oh, honey." Jimmy sighed, wishing like hell he didn't have to be the one to tell her about Mikal. How did you tell a sweet, innocent girl she'd just been vilely used by her own twin brother?
Jimmy took her hands, kissing each in turn before he met Ellie's worried eyes. "Baby, listen carefully. Nothing I'm about to tell you was your fault. You did nothing to deserve what happened to you. Understood?"
"What happened to me?" Ellie demanded, now looking apprehensive, as well as worried.
Grimly, Jimmy explained the true identity of the boy she thought of as Mickey. At first, Ellie refused to even listen until Jimmy explained it had been Maggie who had identified Mikal when she saw him on the video clip he sent. Jimmy underplayed the graphic contents of the video, merely saying Mikal kidnapped Ellie and then sent the video as a cyber ransom note. "Do you remember him coming to the house? Obviously, you'd have welcomed him inside as your friend . . . that's why he was able to abduct you."
Ellie shook her head, the pretty flush of blood leaving her cheeks as deep mortification and repulsion took its place, making her look gray and sick. "I told you, I don't remember anything that happened since last night. You're telling me my first boyfriend turned out to be my twin brother, that I've been having sex with . . . oh, God!"
"Ellie."Jimmy kissed her deeply, not so much out of passion as to show Ellie he still loved her, that the awful ruse Mikal had played on her didn't disgust Jimmy or make him want to break off with her. With his kiss, Jimmy tried to convey understanding but not pity—Ellie would hate thinking she was someone to be sorry for now. "Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know."
"I should have known," Ellie cried, refusing to accept Jimmy's comforting words. "I'm psychic; you know that. I should have felt a connection to Mikal . . . my God, he's my own twin! I shared a womb with him."
"Mikal's stronger than you,"Jimmy said bluntly.
"Hell, he was able to fool your mother and Charles ... vampires couldn't even see through him! Don't blame yourself for any of this. Mikal is the one that used you."
"So what happened today?" Ellie asked. "What did he do to me that was so bad you had to transform me? And where's Mom? Or Daddy? Or Lee?"
Again, Jimmy didn't tell Ellie the whole, unsavory truth. He merely said Mikal and the band of mortals he had with him hurt Ellie to provoke Lord Baldevar into rushing onto the estate. "He knew your dad would come running if he thought you were in danger. Baldevar came here the minute he knew where you were and tried to keep your mom at home by hypnotizing her. But Maggie woke up and then we came here to help rescue you."
"What happened to Daddy?" Ellie said, her voice scaling up with alarm. "Did Mikal hurt him? What about Mom and Lee?"
"I don't know," Jimmy admitted. "Your mom . . . when we got closer to the house, she said she had a feeling your dad was hurt I don't know about Lee ... for some reason your father took Lee with him. When Maggie and I got here, we split up. She went after your dad and Mikal and I came to you."
"You mean Mom and Daddy and Lee are still fighting him . . . alone?" Aghast, Ellie stood up, ready to charge through a black opening but for Jimmy's restraining arm. "Jimmy, don't you dare try and stop me! I won't let Mikal hurt my mom! I'm a vampire now; I've got to help Mom! I feel her somewhere in this house ... she needs me, Jimmy. Come on, come on!"
"Hold it," Jimmy said, ignoring the nails clawing into his skin as Ellie struggled toward the door. "We'll go but we're going to do this right. Don't you see Mikal wants everyone to blindly charge after him? We have to set up some ground rules."
Jimmy grabbed the wooden stake on the floor and thrust it into Ellie's hands while he removed a .357 Magnum from an arm holster. The Magnum wouldn't kill Mikal but it would throw him on his ass. Then Maggie, Simon, or Lee could cut off his head.
"It's not much but it'll do," Jimmy said, gesturing to Ellie's stake. "If you get a chance, drive it into his heart. Now stay behind me at all times. Understand?"
Ellie nodded and they went off together to search for Maggie, Lord Baldevar, and Lee in the ominously silent house.
Fifteen
Meghann watched Jimmy disappear, and then slumped against one of the iron spikes, exhausted. It was a good thing Jimmy couldn't see her now; he'd never have agreed to let her transport him along the astral plane if he knew she'd pushed herself to the point of depletion to propel him to Ellie's side. Now Meghann's own ability to fly the plane was severely impaired so she had to face down Mikal without the safety hatch of being able to fly away from danger.
Well, so be it. . . nothing was keeping her from Simon. Meghann reached into her backpack and withdrew a naginata, the infamous sword of the medieval Japanese warrior monks. Alcuin had given her the weapon nearly fifty years ago, because he believed the naginata with its slim wooden tang and short but lethal, edge-tempered blade was the perfect weapon for a petite woman with small hands. Hopefully, her skill with the weapon would give her a swift victory over Mikal.
Simon, where are you ? Help me, Meghann pleaded as she cut through the nightmare garden of false ivy and weeping willows to reach the house. Simon, if you're alive, please reach out. It's Meghann. Answer me, answer me! Tell me where to find you.
Meghann couldn't be sure but she thought she felt something urging her toward the front door, assuring her no obstacle would bar her way. Meghann glared at the thick black doors studded with silver bolts and they swung open, revealing a long, dark corridor with doors leading to various wings. There was also a spiral staircase balanced so precariously it looked like it would fall any minute. There was something deeply familiar about that staircase. Meghann's eyes narrowed in concentration when she tried to remember where she'd seen it before.
Of course—Ellie created that staircase! Meghann's eyes widened, remembering the blueprints her daughter had shown her, full of shy pride when she told her mother a boy she'd met at school was so impressed with her talent he asked her to design a rambling, fun-house interior for a club he wanted to establish. Meghann cringed to think how badly the shocks of the past two nights had numbed her mind that she didn't immediately connect Immortal Light with the designs "Mickey" solicited from Ellie.
Meghann looked at the dark mansion with new, informed eyes. If Mikal followed Ellie's sketches, then the double doors in front of her led to the dance floor. From that main room, there were several offshoots. One could play out elaborate vampire fantasies in the gaming rooms that came complete with computers and software while other rooms were quiet parlors for guests that found the frenetic noise of the bar too much. If Meghann remembered correctly, there were even two mini- theatres where one could watch horror films and a small dining room
in case any of the Goth guests should get hungry.
Meghann was tempted to head for the dance floor but there were the other wings to be considered, as well as that careening staircase that replaced the elegant mahogany one she remembered. Upstairs there were hotel rooms for guests spending the night, several large halls for people who wished to use the club for conventions, and finally a business annex for planning day-to-day operations. So where was Simon in this confusing maze?
Which door, Meghann asked and this time the unseen presence was stronger. It felt like someone took her hand and guided her to the imposing set of doors with gargoyle handles glaring at her in stony silence.
Be prepared, a voice said as Meghann used telekinesis to open the doors and this time there was no mistaking the voice ... it was definitely Simon!
Prepared for what? Meghann asked, so overjoyed at this indication Simon was still alive she almost missed narrow trail of blood artfully camouflaged amidst the thorn and crucifix floor.
Meghann leaned down, one hand clutching her sword while she used the other to taste the blood on the floor, praying it didn't belong to Simon.
Lee, Meghann realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she tasted blood she'd drunk last night. But Lee's taste, though immediately recognizable, was different now, containing the heady iron aroma only vampires produced. So Simon had completed Lee's transformation! But why? It didn't make any sense for Simon to charge after Mikal with no one to aid him but a newborn vampire.
Meghann frowned at the blood trail, knowing she was missing some piece of this puzzle but having no time to ponder the mystery. She had to find out what the blood trail led to, where Mikal had dragged her bleeding friend and if he was still alive.
The ragged red line ended abruptly by a raised dais concealed by thick black curtains. As Meghann walked toward the dais, the curtains parted to reveal a sight that made her scream in paralyzed horror, not caring who she alerted to her presence.
The dais led to a small stage with the inscription unity in darkness written over it in black, Gothic script. About an inch beneath the sign, Lee Winslow's body hung ten feet off the floor, thick cables attached to his arms and legs to keep him suspended in midair, welcome, mother was written in blood on his bare torso, and his head was missing.
"Lee," Meghann cried, ready to rush forward and drag her friend down to the floor. But as she ran to him, she felt an invisible, iron-strong hand grab her shoulder to keep her off the stage.
Meghann, no!
She couldn't be sure who warned her away, whether it was Simon or whatever remained of Lee, but she knew to disregard it would be the signature on her own death warrant. If she dropped her sword and kept her back turned to the rest of the room while she worked on freeing Lee, she'd be a ludicrously easy target for Mikal. But that didn't mean she'd allow the desecration Mikal had visited on Lee's helpless body to continue.
Meghann glared at the cables wrapped around his arms and legs. Within seconds, the thick black cords snapped and Lee Winslow's body fell to the stage floor. Now Meghann leapt onto the stage and turned her attention to the black curtains. When they fell of their rungs, she grabbed one to decendy wrap Lee's remains.
"Lee," Meghann cried again as she made the makeshift shroud, weeping soundlessly. This was too much. She'd lost Charles and Lee in the space of two nights. How could they both be dead, two of the finest men she'd ever known? Meghann stared at the black bundle, not seeing the shocking sight Mikal had reduced her friend to but the kind, competent doctor who'd guided her through her pregnancy, applying all his skill to keep her and Ellie alive when she went into premature labor. She saw Lee cuddling Ellie, walking the floor endlessly while the baby howled in teething misery, never showing the slightest strain or irritation at the screaming infant. And she saw him as he must have been tonight, allowing Simon to transform him and trying desperately to save Ellie, never caring that he was risking his life.
Meghann wiped her eyes and caressed Lee's shroud in a gesture of farewell. She couldn't allow herself to think of her crushing grief for Charles and Lee now, not while Simon needed her.
Meghann observed the rest of the stage, at first thinking nothing of the limp rag doll lying in an antique chair lined in horsehair. At first, she thought it some kind of macabre decoration but on closer inspection she realized it was a corpse—a boneless, shriveled, corpse with a knife planted in what was once a chest.
Nauseated and horrified by this new display of her son's phenomenal power (even if Simon wanted to, he couldn't have been responsible for the thing's condition), at first Meghann didn't realize she knew the dead woman. Then her eyes focused on the luxurious blond hair unaffected by the body's destruction and remembered where she'd seen hair like that. It was back in the fifties, at that horrible party Simon threw to introduce her to the vampiric society he'd formed over the centuries.
Meghann glared at the corpse, all traces of pity for the dead woman vanished. Meghann didn't know her name, didn't care to know it. She only knew that at that long forgotten vampire ball, Meghann had balked when Simon began to feed from two helpless young girls to the delight of the slinky blonde who joined him after Meghann refused.
Meghann ground her teeth, remembering the other vampire's ecstasy as she stretched out beside Simon, trying to wrest him from Meghann by proving she was more debauched than Simon's chosen consort.
Meghann had turned on her heel and left the party in a huff, treating Simon to a display of icy nonchalance for several evenings before he finally laughed and threw her down on the nearest bed, telling her she couldn't blame him for being born four hundred years before her but Meghann had no reason to be jealous. Then, all night, he proceeded to prove Meghann was the only woman he wanted.
After that night, Meghann forgot about the vampire tramp but a grasp of her silver hair showed Meghann the creature hadn't forgotten about Simon at all. Meghann didn't feel herself blanch or her nostrils quiver with violent outrage when she saw the hand this awful woman had in harming Ellie. The psychic impressions Meghann received didn't tell her why Mikal inflicted such agony on his sole vampiric collaborator, but psychopaths were unpredictable. Maybe Mikal killed the woman out of some frustration he felt toward Simon or maybe he was simply bored and craved the thrill he got from causing pain.
Hidden speakers suddenly came to life all around her, the bass so strong the darkwave music with its frenetic, techno beat was distorted. Meghann jumped, her eyes wary and darting from side to side as she held her sword out in front of her the way Alcuin taught her to.
Meghann clenched her hands tightly around the balsa staff to keep them from shaking. She knew the howling music was invitation—Mikal was ready to properly introduce himself to his mother.
Meghann felt warmth on her back and knew she'd face blinding light the moment she turned around. Mikal meant to exploit her every vulnerability, starting with her a vampire's sensitivity to bright light.
Meghann turned around slowly, not intending to allow her son to blind her. She kept the naginata ready for attack and stared into the light, seeing beneath and beyond it as Alcuin had taught her to do.
Once her eyes adjusted, she could see that the tombstone bar was now illuminated by a clever lighting system hidden in the dome ceiling carved into the form of grayish-black storm clouds.
Meghann. . .
Her heart contracted at the telepathic cry and the dark, angry music swelled louder while a lighting effect crackled from the ceiling, the bluish-white light illuminating Simon Baldevar lying within the now open doorway, his arms and legs in cruciform position with a sword buried in his heart.
"Simon!" Meghann shrieked and her own sword clattered to the floor. She ran to him, moaning like a hurt animal when she saw how closely he resembled the hideous prophecy Alcuin had shown her the night before.
Meghann knelt beside him, her heart in her throat when she saw his chalk white skin already displaying the fatal blue tinge of cyanosis while his shallow gasps for
breath revealed a death rattle. Simon was as close to death as a vampire could come. Unless the stake was removed and he received massive quantities of fresh blood, he would die before sunrise.
"Simon," Meghann sobbed, taking one of his icy hands in hers. "Simon, no!" For a moment, the hideous vision before her blurred, coalescing into the other night Meghann had seen her master impaled ... the night she'd done this to him. Meghann went through a bewildering juxtaposition, remembering that one time she'd been glad to see Simon like this, spat on him, as he lay weak and helpless before her and living through the hellish present of seeing him near death again.
"I didn't mean it," she cried, covering the bloodless lips and white face in kisses. "Simon, I didn't mean it. I never told you that before ... I never told you how sorry I've been for that night. I didn't want you to die, I didn't. I just wanted to get away from you ... I was so young, so confused. I thought you were smothering me, I thought I hated you. But Simon, even then, those forty years I wasted, I missed you. I never let any other man take your place in my heart. I ... I never told this to anyone else, but I dreamed of you during those forty years. I had dreams of you holding me, loving me, and I'd wake up with tears running down my face because I missed you and I wanted you back. Simon, I'm sorry ... I've been sorry for so long but I never told you and now it's too late."
Distract him. Simon's golden eyes, glazed with pain but radiating steely resolve, focused on Meghann, urging her to overcome her panic and concentrate on his words.
Listen to me, Meghann, Simon continued and Meghann saw what the effort of speaking cost him— he started to shake and the cold skin beneath her hands grew even clammier. Keep away from Mikal when he shows his face again. Just distract him and I will dispose of him.
"You can't fight him now!" Meghann protested aloud but Simon's eyes had closed again. He wasn't dead, but he was gravely ill and would remain that way until Meghann took the sword out of his chest. But she couldn't do that unless she had fresh blood to offer. If Meghann simply yanked the sword out, Simon would die from blood loss. She had to get him out of here, find a mortal, and then remove the stake so he could drink as much blood as he needed to recover. She still didn't know how Simon had managed to remove the stake she had impaled him with and still had the strength to search out prey—it was nothing short of a miracle.