Dark Light Book Two

by Rob Shepherd

  They were still alive! He breathed a sigh of relief as he replaced the pendant inside his shirt where it rested securely on his chest, its surface cooling as the layers of his clothing concealed it from the vampire’s within the cave, almost as if it knew it needed to save its strength for the work ahead.

  Now, he had only to wait until the sun rose, before entering the cave to end this once, and for all. In a few hours this would be just a bad memory.

  He turned to find himself face to face with Trey.

  “Welcome friend,” Trey said with a wide smile, revealing pointed teeth around which his tongue coiled seductively.

  “Trey?” Grant questioned, it looked like his friend, and then it did not look like his friend. It was more than pointed teeth and a hunger for blood that had changed in Trey. He looked haunted and sad and…Grant struggled to identify the real reason his childhood friend appeared different.

  “Join us, please…friend,” said Trey gesturing to the mouth of the cave.

  Grant, knowing he had no choice, followed Trey into the cave. If he tried to take Trey out here he was at a disadvantage, Trey could easily fly off and attack them as they journeyed back. He was not sure how he could get his mother and Elizabeyta safely home on the air cycle which was really only built for one. He had not thought clearly when bringing this vehicle, but then, his plan had been to kill Trey and they could have all made their way to safety in a village nearby where they could have hired better transportation for the return trip home. His only thought had been to rescue them immediately and the air cycle was the fastest way to get here.

  He stumbled as he entered, between the darkness and rough floor inside the cave he lost his balance and fell, hard, next to Elizabeyta whose hands were bound with rope and whose clothing was torn at the neck.

  No marks yet, thought Grant in relief, but who knew for how long that would remain the case. Her eyes were drawn to his in a silent plea but he was not sure what she wanted from him until her eyes traveled down to his chest where the pendant rested.

  As if sensing her nearness the pendant was moving slowly toward her. Grant, whose hands were not restrained yet, quickly removed the necklace and held it in his hands behind his back toward her.

  Elizabeyta reached for the pendant and hid it in her palms. Mouthing the words, thank you, she settled back with a relieved expression on her face. Now all they had to do was get Trey close enough to her to be touched by the pendant and saved. But Grant, looking around the room, knew that might be impossible. They were surrounded by at least thirty vampires, all of whom stared at him with hungry eyes and something close to hatred mixed with fear.

  No one moved toward the three prisoners, it was as if they were waiting for something, or someone, before they struck.

  Rumblings from some of the vampires as they stared at the three caused Grant to move closer to the two women as to protect them. He was surprised they had not tied him up and reached into his pocket for his tools. They were still there, now he really was confused. Sunlight would reach the mouth of the cave soon, but none made their way to the back of the cave and safety.

  “What is going on, Trey?” asked Grant as he angled his position closer to Trey and hiding the women from view.

  “We should probably explain,” said Trey, giggling as he squatted in front of Grant, he removed Grant’s goggles and patted him down taking his tools and setting them on a rock ledge nearby.

  “There is no need to handcuff you since there are too many of us here for you to kill. If you make a move to retrieve your weapons,” Trey pointed to their resting place. “I will let them blood your mother and Elizabeyta, and then you. You will not have time to get to your tools before we can kill them, or worse, make them one of us. So be a good boy and accept the inevitable.”

  Grant recognized the truth of his words and relaxed slightly. He would find a way to make Trey pay for this, but first he had to find a way to get his mother and Elizabeyta free.

  “We are the Clan Volgan, yes,” Trey smiled when he saw Grant stiffen at the word Volgan, “but we are so much more, aren’t we Lady Agatha?”

  Trey looked at Lady Agatha who held her head high, knowing what he was about to reveal she was not afraid and Grant tilted his head in confusion.

  “I am your cousin, Grant, didn’t they tell you? My father is your Uncle. Someone the family never acknowledged since his unfortunate accident, so many years ago.”

  “Mother?” Grant looked at Lady Agatha for confirmation. From the way she lowered her eyes he could see it was true. Why had his parents never told him Trey was his cousin?

  “I have not been a vampire for long, my father sought to save me from this fate, but when he was killed, and the Clan spread to the winds, it became apparent I had to take up my inheritance and join the rest of the Clan. So here I am, and here you are, the murderer of my father. Now, what do you suppose I should do with you?” Trey flew to his side and stared into his face.

  “Elizabeyta?” Grant asked looking back at her. She met Trey’s eyes with fiery ones of her own.

  “Shall you tell him who you are, sister, or shall I?” Trey questioned her.

  Elizabeyta remained silent, refusing to be drawn in to the battle of wills with her sibling.

  “She is not of the Blood. Her mother was one of my father’s victims, but never turned to a vampire. She carries within her a vampire heritage unrealized. We intend to change that tonight.”

  “Enough talk, master,” said one of the vampires from the back of the cave, “we need to feed soon or we will die.”

  “Yes, I know, but we have to wait. You know that no one feeds before HE does, and He will be here soon. He is very happy to be invited to this feast.” Trey smiled and his teeth gleamed yellow in the flickering light cast by the lanterns.

  Elizabeyta gave a small moan, the pendant in her clench fist was glowing even brighter as with a rush of wind a dark cloaked figure flew into the cave and landed, with a soft thump, onto the dirt in front of Trey.

  Spreading the cloak open it revealed a darkly dressed man with raven hair and long white teeth who smiled at everyone in greeting.

  “My son,” he said embracing Trey, “I hear you have brought them to me.”

  As he turned to them, Grant heard his mother gasp, “You are dead.”

  “Yes, my darling, I know,” spoke Lord Volgan in a whispery voice that sounded like dead leaves pushed across the ground by an errant wind, “yet here I am. Your son did not finish the job. Pity for if he had I would not be here now.”

  “And daughter,” he turned his gaze to Elizabeyta, “how like your mother you have grown. I will enjoy tasting your charms.”

  “And you,” Lord Volgan finally turned his gaze to Grant, “son of my killer, I have plans for you.”

  He strode around the room greeting each of the Clan members who bowed and grinned to see their master again.

  Then he turned back to Grant and the two women. Squatting down in front of Grant as Trey had done moments earlier, he reached out with a clawed hand to turn Grant’s face back and forth.

  “You realize, of course, that this is nothing personal. Just the way of the world. Some are to be eaten and some do the eating. It is time to feast,” he said turning to the others in the cave, “but I will take the first bite.”

  He opened his mouth to feed from Grant’s unprotected throat just as Grant pulled a silver knife from his boot top which he stabbed in the heart of the vampire.

  Lord Volgan looked at first Grant and then Trey in surprise, clutching the knife he stood and staggered about the room leaning onto the wall to support himself he watched in disbelief as he slowly began to burn. Smoke rose from the spot where the knife had penetrated and began to curl up and down his body like a hungry snake. Everywhere it touched it turned his body to ash. Within seconds he was gone, a set of clothes hanging in air before dropping lifelessly to the floor where they puddled like yesterday’s washing.

  Grant, using the disintegration of Lord Vo
lgan as a distraction grabbed Elizabeyta, and quickly unwrapped her hands. Amplifying the light from the lanterns in the cave, the pendant, which she held high in her hands, began glowing with a strong silver light.

  Grant faced the room from his position at the entrance to the cave, his silver knife outstretched preventing escape as Elizabeyta pointed the laser beam from the pendant at each of the vampires who tried to avoid its redemption. Screams, mingled with the sounds of disintegrating vampires, filled Grant’s head until he could only feel the knife as he attacked at random the black cloaked figures surrounding him that tried to slip by.

  Elizabeyta had braced herself against the wall of the cave to prevent an attack from behind. Grant could see his mother behind her, holding Elizabeyta up as the Pendant drained her with its power.

  Where is Trey? Grant suddenly thought. He had not seen him in the last several minutes.

  Suddenly the cave went dark as the lanterns were put out. Elizabeyta cried out, and Grant heard a crash coming from her direction. Suddenly his mother screamed and Grant, bracing himself from attack raced to the area of the cave where he had last seen them.

  Elizabeyta had regained her feet and the pendant had begun glowing again. In the front of the cave, the few remaining vampires were trying to escape, battered from the fighting they were struggling to get to their feet and fly away, but just as they reached the lip of the ledge in front of the cave they screamed one final time as the morning sun rose and turned them to ash.

  Trey, sensing the end, grabbed Lady Agatha and dragged her to the back of the cave with him, just out of reach of the sunlight that moved across the floor of the cave with long shiny fingers that reached for him.

  “No,” Trey shouted as Elizabeyta pointed the pendant at him, and Grant moved in on his other side trying to outflank him and distract him. Trey pinned Lady Agatha against his body, hand pulling her head back to reveal her slender throat. His teeth, poised over her carotid stopped their movements.

  Grant and Elizabeyta remained frozen, waiting to see what Trey would do.

  “Let me help you, brother,” Elizabeyta beseeched Trey, “let me save you.”

  “I don’t need saving, sister,” growled Trey. As the sun continued to advance he kept moving backward, dragging Lady Agatha, fear etched on her face, with him. “I will live forever. What do I need saving from?”

  “Trey,” said Grant, “I forgive you.”

  Trey stopped, looking at Grant in shock, “Forgive me?” he said softly, “For what?”

  Grant exchanged a glance with Elizabeyta as he slowly moved toward Trey. He nodded to the sunlight on the ground and then back to the pendant. Faltering, as the light grew dimmer in the far reaches of the cave, the pendant’s glow was now mellowed and faint.

  Elizabeyta caught on quickly and maneuvered herself nearer to the growing light, as Grant advanced toward Trey.

  They had one chance to save Lady Agatha, if Grant could break free Trey’s hold on her, and get her out of the way that would give Elizabeyta the chance she needed to get to her brother with the light.

  “Take me,” whispered Grant, he lowered his knife to the ground to show he was serious, “it would be wonderful to be with you for eternity. We can have adventures like in the old days. What can you do with an old woman, that you cannot do better with a young friend?” Grant pleaded with his eyes for his mother to forgive him calling her old and she smiled, understanding in her eyes.

  Trey stopped, looking at Grant as if he suspected a trick, but his hold on Lady Agatha weakened. Grant, thinking he had an opportunity to free her lunged and grabbed his mother’s arm, but Trey pulled her back in to his embrace and lowered his head toward her throbbing carotid.

  “NOOOOO!” cried out Grant as he released his mother’s arm in a show of good faith.

  Trey laughed, a throaty victorious laugh as he stroked her neck.

  “You are right, old friend. It would be more fun to be with you for eternity. The perfect revenge…” he threw Lady Agatha against the wall where she collapsed in a heap and thrust himself on Grant knocking him down and pulling his head back he reached down for the exposed throat.

  “Victory is mine, old friend…” Trey said in triumph as he lowered his head.

  “No, brother,” said Elizabeyta, “salvation is mine!”

  Trey arched his back as the light from the pendant, fueled by the harshness of the early morning sunlight striking the silver cross imprinted the cross onto his back. Smoking, the fire spread throughout his body in seconds, and he was turned to ash as Grant moved from beneath him.

  Standing next to Elizabeyta he held her as she cried into his chest for the brother she had known and the beast she had killed.

  Later, when they were all safely back at the manor enjoying a fine meal Grant raised his glass in a toast.

  “To old friends, and new friends, and all the possibilities,” he said solemnly.

  “To my brother,” said Elizabeyta softly staring in to the blood red wine in her glass, “may he finally rest in peace.”

  “And to my son, who I think has finally met his match,” said Lady Agatha, smiling at the two young people seated near her.

  Grant and Elizabeyta looked at her in shock, then each other, and all three burst in to laughter.

  When they were in the library after his mother had retired to her room, Grant looked at Elizabeyta over the smoke that curled from his cigar and considered his mother’s words.

  “You know,” he said smiling at her thoughtfully, “my mother was right.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Elizabeyta moving closer to him on the couch.

  “We are a good match. You and I did a pretty good job of disposing of that Clan and putting an end to their reign of evil. Would you like to make it a permanent arrangement?”

  Elizabeyta, dimpling appealingly, leaned in for a kiss. As they embraced the pendant glowed a beautiful shade of rose as if in approval.

  Good Father

  By Collette Burjack

  5:40. The phone rings and instinctively he knows it is Maybelle. He should have been home sooner; she’ll be crying, maybe, or just heaving those long, shuddering breathes. No. That’s not right. It can’t be her.

  “Hello?”

  “Gary, you still at work?” It’s Roger, a member of his old lacrosse team.

  “Yeah, just finishing. What’s up?”

  “Listen, buddy, there’s a meet this Sunday and we’re a man down. Remember Zachary? Yeah, well, he went and busted his knee playing touch football last week. Anyway, I know it’s been a while, but I thought maybe…”

  Absently, Gary runs his finger along the top of the photo frame on his desk. “Sorry, Roger, I can’t. I’m needed at home.”

  A short silence. “Yeah, I get it. I just thought you might need a break. You’re a good man, Gary.”

  “Bye, Roger.”

  5:50. After three months he still feels that anxious, clammy feeling in his stomach that used to stay with him all day at work. Wondering what she was doing. Hoping they were okay. Racing to leave the office at 5:00, then 4:50, then 4:30. Being called into Mr. Lindman’s office and awkwardly trying to explain his absences.

  Still, he should be getting home. He looks at the pile of paper on his desk and estimates he’s got five, maybe six more reports to proof. Forty-five minutes, tops. Maybe an hour.

  He’s buried deep in his work when he hears footsteps. He sees Bethany approaching and ducks his head, trying to look engrossed in the report in front of him. Ever since that day, he had become the object of office pity and admiration, apparently an irresistible combination to some of his female colleagues. He’s already maintaining an embarrassed silence with two co-workers since he gently turned down their advances, and he wants to avoid a similar scene with Bethany.

  She pauses at his desk while zipping up her jacket, her legs sticking out from under her heavy coat like twigs.

  “Working late again, Gary?”

  “Just getting everything pre
pared for the year-end meeting on Friday.” He looks away from her sympathetic eyes. “I should be wrapping up soon. Need to get home, you know.” He gives a little nod towards the picture frame that’s angled slightly away.

  She nods understandingly and lets her hand with her manicured nails rest momentarily on his shoulder. “You’re too good, Gary. Don’t work too hard.”

  6:55. He needs to leave. He should really be home by now.

  The light’s still on in Mr. Lindman’s office. Not surprising: Mr. Lindman rarely leaves before 7:00. Lately, he and Gary have often shared an elevator down to the parkade. Gary knocks on Mr. Lindman’s door and waits for the abrupt, “Come in.” He briefly holds up a sheaf of paper before placing them on Mr. Lindman’s desk.

  “The reports you wanted.”

  Mr. Lindman peers at them through his thick glasses. “I hope you didn’t stay late just to finish these,” he looks up at Gary. “I told you I didn’t need them before Thursday. I know you have responsibilities at home.”

  “Yes, well, making up for lost time, you know.” Gary shrugs and an uneasy silence settles in the room.

  Mr. Lindman readjusts his glasses before venturing cautiously: “Yes, and how is… how are things going now?”

  “Great.” Mr. Lindman always keeps his office a balmy twenty-four degrees, and Gary can feel the sweat start to gather under his arms and along his back. “Great. We’re doing just fine, now.”

  “Good, good.” Mr. Lindman looks uncomfortable, like he wants to end the conversation but he’s not sure how. “Well, that’s good. I have two little ones myself, you know. Of course, they’re not so little now, but I certainly remember those early days: the sleepless nights, the constant crying… I remember Carol would—”

  He stops himself abruptly. “Well, good then. You get on home now. And thanks for these.” He nods towards the reports. “You’re a good man, Gary.”