The Complete Vampire Chronicles 12-Book Bundle (The Vampire Chronicles)

by Rice, Anne

  “Silas said the reign of Father had to end. Father was ancient, pure Taltos, unfit for the modern world. Silas said we had Mayfair genes, human cleverness, human dreaming.”

  I stood beside Mona as she cried silently.

  “The tribe celebrated, snorted the cocaine and shot off the guns. They smoked marijuana and went absolutely crazy. They killed two of us—Evan and Ruth—by accident. Can you imagine how stupid? Nobody had ever seen a dead Taltos before. It was ghastly. Silas had them ceremoniously dumped in the sea. Flowers flung into the water! Ludicrous. Silas began to shoot those whom he suspected of disloyalty!” He gave a deep disgusted laugh.

  “Lorkyn made a speech. She said that going to the drug island had been a typical Taltos blunder. The drug people belonged to a great cartel. Their cohorts would come to get us. We had to take Father and Mother and get onto the yacht and leave the island. We could do it. Silas tried to kill her, but the others stopped him. Now that was a revelation. But Lorkyn has a way with her. No one was prepared to see her go down.”

  He shrugged, rolled his eyes, pushed the gun more firmly into the belt of his beautiful brown leather jeans.

  “The drug people came,” he said, swaying languidly as he went on. “By nightfall they were here. Silas and his allies ran at them, shooting off the guns they’d stolen. Rat tat tat! Can you picture it? They didn’t even shoot from under cover.” He sneered. “The Drug Merchants shot every Taltos in sight. They kicked open doors all over the villa. Quite an unforgettable experience, waiting for them to kick open one’s door.

  “It was the complete end of the Secret People. Those of us who were kept for a while? We were the quiet ones. The ones who didn’t rush into battle.

  “They didn’t find me till the third day. I was simply lying in my room, upstairs in the villa. In they walked. They made a servant of me. They taught me to mix Caipirinhas out of cachaça and lime juice for Carlos. I knew the computer very well. I did the bookkeeping, spread sheets, payroll, all of that too. Then Lucia fell passionately in love with me. How could she not? She’s well past the age where a male Taltos can make her bleed to death—.

  “—That’s what we males do to human women, you know, unless they’re past their menarche. Lucia showered me with attention. She did this room all in white for me. She went to Miami Beach to have her inviting little privy chamber surgically tightened till it felt like the sheath of a twelve-year-old. She did that for me. Very nice. Of course I’ve never been with a human twelve-year-old. She was a delicious lover.”

  “Hmmm,” I said. “You don’t mind her lying there with a pool of blood for a face?”

  “Not particularly. You said every human on the island was going to die. Didn’t you mean it?”

  He sat down in his desk chair. He turned, poured himself another glass of milk from the pitcher and drank it down.

  He fell to studying the three of us again, Quinn and I standing and Mona on the edge of the white chair, knees up, her face beating with the blood, and her tearfilled eyes so unutterably sad they were indescribable.

  “Is that computer connected to the outside world?” Mona asked. Her voice was feeble, but she was still holding back the tears.

  “Of course not,” he said sardonically. “What kind of idiot do you think I am? If it had been, I would have gotten help. I would have tried to reach Rowan Mayfair at Mayfair Medical in New Orleans.”

  We were all of us silently shocked.

  “How did you know about Rowan?” asked Mona. She wiped at her eyes. The black feathers of her dress brushed her cheeks.

  “Father told all of us—if ever we found ourselves in grave trouble, we were to contact Rowan Mayfair at Mayfair Medical in New Orleans. I think that was two years after I was born. Father was already being poisoned by Silas but he didn’t know it. He only knew he was getting weaker. He thought he was dying of old age. He had been to see his lawyers in New York. Very secret. No names. No numbers. That was Father’s way. Morrigan was seldom if ever awake. Father knew things were going on behind his back. Morrigan woke up one time and accused Father of being in love with Rowan Mayfair.”

  In love with Rowan Mayfair.

  “Why did she say that?” asked Mona in a broken voice.

  “I don’t know,” he said wearily, with mock innocence. “All I know is, she’s my only lifeline to the human world. Then suddenly you show up, Grandmother Dear, and you want to rescue us. Aren’t you a child? You look like one. Playing with your mother’s clothes perhaps?”

  “Were you always of this disposition?” I asked. “Or has this enslavement altered you?”

  He laughed a mirthless knowing laugh. He stared at the dead woman on the floor.

  “You’re a tricky one,” he said. “I was born knowing Father and Mother were doomed.” He smiled. “Father didn’t have the temperament to control the young males. There were secret births all the time. You might say I sang a tragic song from the beginning. After all …” He stopped, yawned and then continued: “How is one to rule a community of Taltos unless one is willing to kill the unwanted births and those who breed against one’s rules?” He shook his head. “I don’t see any other way. Unless of course one puts chastity belts on the females. That could be done. You know, modern nylon chastity belts or some such. But that was certainly not the way of Mother and Father.”

  “What did the Secret People do here?” Mona asked. She was trying to speak firmly. “Did you simply live pleasurably on this island?”

  “Oh, certainly not,” Oberon responded. “Father and Mother provided a marvelous life for us. Father had a wonderful plane. It’s in New York somewhere, stranded, dead, orphaned. Like Little Boy Blue’s toys, waiting for him to come back. In that plane we visited all the great cities of the world. I loved Rome and Bombay in particular. I would love to see them all again—London, Rio, Hong Kong, Paris. And Mexico City. We were shepherded everywhere. And we were taught to observe human beings and pretend to be human beings. As long as we did that, Father and Mother took complete care of us. Simply terrific life. Father was very strict and very cautious. No telephones, no Internet. That might have been a fatal error in the long run.”

  “Did you ever want to escape?” asked Quinn.

  “Not me,” he said with a shrug. “I loved the Secret People. Besides, human beings generally kill male Taltos. The women they let live. They use them. But the males they always kill. Everyone knew that. Our life here was good. We had superb teachers here on the island. Father had them flown in for two to three weeks at a time. Of course they didn’t know what we really were, but that didn’t matter. We had an excellent library in the main building—books, films, all that.”

  He took another glass of the milk, making a slight face.

  “It’s not cold enough,” he whispered. Then: “Sometimes we had human guides on our trips. Like when we went to India. We had the yacht, you know, the cabin cruiser for going out on the water. And the cleanup crew came in twice a week and went through the entire property. And then there was the jungle. Elath and Releth loved to go off in the jungle. So did Seth. I’m not much for gnats and scratches and snakes and that sort of thing.” He made a weary gesture with his long arm.

  “No, it was quite a nice life. Until Silas started his rebellion with the slow poisoning of Mother and Father. And of course, though Silas never lived to find out, there were others breeding behind his back, and plotting against him too at the end. It was out of control, totally out of control.” He shrugged again. “You might say it was a disaster.” He leaned back and looked down at Mona as she sat crouched on the edge of the white chair.

  “Don’t be so sad,” he said hatefully, “Little Grandmother of the tribe. It’s not your fault. It’s the way it is. Taltos can’t live with humans. Taltos make fatal blunders. Father told me if it hadn’t been Silas, it would have been another. The Secret People was an absurd idea. Near the end he talked a lot about Rowan Mayfair. Rowan Mayfair would know what to do. But he was a virtual prisoner in the penthouse by
then. And Mother was only conscious occasionally.”

  Mona’s heart was broken. The cautions in Maharet’s electronic letter made sense. Darwinian principles, Stirling had called them. I wanted to wrap Mona in my arms.

  But we had yet to enter the main body of the villa. And I could hear shouting now. A handful of mortals had discovered the dead we had left behind in the other suites.

  The door burst open again, and this time the black greasy barrel of a gun preceded the man who had kicked it in. I sent the discrete power to hurl him backwards and destroy his heart. A spray of bullets struck the white ceiling. Too close. They might have killed this vile talking creature. What a loss!

  I plunged through the door. I found myself in a long thatch-roofed porch. Another mortal lifted his weapon. I sent the Fire. And in the sudden brilliant illumination, I saw another man running. The Fire caught him. Be quick.

  When I turned around, a young woman, jeans, shirt, snarling curses in my face, came at me with a big automatic weapon. I disarmed her, and sent the power. She collapsed, blood gushing from her mouth. I closed my eyes. I was sickened.

  I hoped to God that we’d cleared away most of the underlings. Maybe all.

  The Bossa Nova was very loud now here in this courtyard. I could hear the whispered words in Portuguese, the swooning dance. The music said Peace. It said Slumber. It was so sweet, so hypnotic.

  Through huge open doors I could see the deserted lobby with its lavish plants, the pink tile running to the broad central stairs. I was eager to get up there, get to the heart of the evil.

  I went back into the white-walled room, shut the door, stepped over the dead Lucia and got to the point:

  “When was the last time you saw any Taltos, living or dead?”

  Shrug. “Maybe nine months ago? Every so often I think I hear the voices of Miravelle and Lorkyn. I woke up once and saw Miravelle walking out there on the beach with Rodrigo. Perhaps they were taken prisoner too for these ungodly men. Miravelle was sugar and spice—the idiot kind of Taltos, if you pardon my candor. When Miravelle plays tennis with you, she wants you to win! Notoriously stupid. It would have been easy to keep her. Lorkyn is cunning enough to hide her true spirit, and exceedingly beautiful. Red hair like Granny here. I know I’ve seen Lorkyn. But is she still alive now? Who knows?”

  “Don’t call me that,” whispered Mona. She gave him a glacial smile. She seemed at a breaking point. “Oh, I know you mean it out of heartfelt respect, you’re such a thoughtful creature, so full of innate love for everyone, but I will settle for Gorgeous, or Beautiful, or Darling One, or Toots, or even Sweetheart. You call me Granny again and I may chain you up to that wall and leave you here.”

  Another spontaneous laugh. “Very well, Toots,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were the boss of this little operation. I thought that position resided with the blond beauty here.”

  “And where is the room of Mother and Father?” I went on.

  “Penthouse suite,” he said. “Believe me, they were probably thrown into the sea a long time ago.”

  “How many people do you think are left in the main building now? I’ve wiped out all the men in this wing of the building, and one woman.”

  “Aren’t you the feisty one!” he sighed. “How should I know? I can make a guess. Rodrigo, his two bodyguards, maybe a goon or two to fetch, and maybe … maybe … Miravelle and Lorkyn. It’s a party in the first-floor bridal suite, that’s Rodrigo’s home away from home, one level above, dead center looking out to sea. Or so his mother told me.” He pointed to the dead mother. “I’d love to shoot one of the goons, assuming you haven’t taken care of all of them.”

  “What about women? Does Rodrigo bring other women here? Are there likely to be some innocent guests up there?”

  “Very unlikely,” he said, head to one side. “If there are guests, they’re dirty. This is a hideaway, a depot. Which has always given me the faint hope of seeing more of Miravelle or Lorkyn. You know, female Taltos are always, shall we say, feverish for fun? There’s inevitably a slight issue of blood, but it comes afterwards and can be dealt with privately. And the milk! Well, let me tell you, the milk’s delicious. Human beings can use them ad nauseam.”

  “All right, wait here for us, don’t shoot anybody unless you have to and we’ll take you out of here, Mona and Quinn, come.”

  “I have no intention of being left behind,” said Oberon. He checked the gun in his belt. “I’ll follow you. I told you I want to shoot a goon or two. Besides, if Lorkyn and Miravelle are here I want to see them. They’re my sisters, for the love of Heaven. You think I’m going to sit in this room and listen for bullets flying?”

  “Don’t you know by their scent if they’re here?” asked Mona.

  He gave another amazingly soft laugh. “The males give off the scent, Grandmother,” he retorted. “You should have studied up on the breed.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do,” she said bitterly, the tears spilling. “Rescue it and study up on it, Oberon, my darling dear! I’ve come a long way to find you, you blessed little sweetheart of a thing. What a joy it is that we’ve met. I warned you, you call me Granny or Grandmother one more time, and I may just knock you flat on your back.”

  Rolling sarcastic laughter. “Okay, Toots,” he said. “No more slips of the tongue. And you are gorgeous.”

  He stood up and stretched like a cat. Gave her a warped smile.

  “Have any of you brilliant and crafty and conscientious Blood Thieves lifted a cell phone off your human victims? I want to call Rowan Mayfair.”

  “I have my own,” said Quinn. “And I did lift a couple. But it’s too early to call. Let’s move.”

  “Well, come on, you little sugar pot,” Oberon said, offering Mona his hand. “Let’s go kill Rodrigo so he can be with his mother. And then we’ll come back for Saint Juan Diego.”

  “Why do you like him so much?” I asked.

  “Who, Rodrigo?” he asked. Big raise of his eyebrows. “I detest the man, I assure you.”

  “No, Saint Juan Diego,” I said.

  “Oh.” Laugh. “I told you. I went to the Cathedral. Besides, when Lucia told me he’d been made a saint, I prayed to him for a miracle.” Suddenly his eyes got wide. “Good Lord!” he said.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Something has come as a surprise to the Cynic for All Seasons?”

  “Don’t you see?” He was flabbergasted. “Saint Juan Diego answered my prayer! You’re the miracle!”

  26

  Rodrigo wasn’t a slob. The lobby was clean, not a scrap of paper on the desk or in it.

  Nevertheless, the hotel had the air of a haunted place, having been robbed of its vitality and purpose.

  Mammoth kitchen, machines grinding away, countertops clean except for fresh trays littered with fancy china, remnants of lobsters, glasses of milk, fish bones, etc.

  No human presence.

  “Don’t you see what that means?” Oberon said, staring at the plates. “That’s Taltos food, all white. They very well might be up there.” He was sloughing off his languor, growing even slightly excited.

  I checked out the storage room, cases of powdered milk, some split open, powder on the floor, footprints, cans of condensed milk, empties in a pile.

  “And explain that to me?” I asked.

  He stared at it, shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “Unless one of them comes down here in the night and guzzles. It’s a possibility. You starve a Taltos for milk, and it will go after it. But let’s get upstairs, my sisters are here! I know it.”

  “Hold on,” said Mona, her eyes rimmed in red, her voice still quavering. “This doesn’t prove a thing.”

  The big central stairway led to the mezzanine floor and into the spacious rooms of what had once been the library. Litter of laptops, bigger computer stations, walls of books, maps, world globes, televisions, huge windows open to the sea. Dust everywhere, or was it sand? The music from above was extremely loud. The place looked uninhabited and unto
uched.

  “This was Heaven here,” said Oberon, “you can’t imagine the hours of pleasure I spent in these rooms. Saints Preserve Us, I detest that music. Maybe we should hit the breaker box to shut that off.”

  “Bad idea,” said Quinn.

  Oberon held his gun with both hands, and he had dropped his disdainful demeanor altogether. He was almost what one would call enthusiastic. But the music was attacking him like a horde of mosquitoes. He shuddered over and over again.

  “First thing I’m going to shoot is that speaker system,” he said.

  Again we took the carpeted stairs. Scanning for humans. I caught the scent of one.

  The suite was dead center and wide open to the broad iron-railed porch that looked down on the lobby, the emperor himself seated in a huge gold satin–sheeted bed to the right, bleached wood headboard carved with mermaids, talking rapidly into a phone, costume sleek leather pants, purple satin shirt open to reveal a chest of oiled muscles, lustrous short black hair brushed back from a polished brown face with extraordinarily pretty eyes.

  Thick beige carpet, scattered chairs, lamps. Doors open to other rooms.

  He clicked off the phone as soon as we entered.

  “Oberon, my son, I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, musical voice barely accented with Spanish, drawing up one knee, eyes moving over the rest of us as he smiled cordially, toenails manicured and buffed to a shine. Extremely amiable manner. “And who have we here? It must be party time. But let’s introduce ourselves first, shall we?”

  He lifted a small black gadget and the inundation of purring dance music came to an end. The sound of the breeze was born again, sweeping through the great empty wall that fronted on the Caribbean.

  “Oh, Rodrigo, I am ever so grateful to you for that,” sighed Oberon. “I was looking everywhere for the source of that infernally simpering music.”

  “So that’s why we’re waving that gun around,” said Rodrigo agreeably. “And where’s my Mamma, didn’t you bring her up with you? I can’t raise anybody on this island. I’m humiliated. Please, my guests! Be seated! The bar is there—everything you could wish. Miravelle!” he shouted suddenly. “I have guests here! Where exactly did you come from? It’s once in a blue moon a boat ties up at my dock. But you’re most welcome. We are very private here, you understand, I can’t invite you to stay—”