Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series

by Gabriel Beyers

  The woman shrugged again. “I’m afraid not. But names are easily given and changed whenever necessary. I have had many names over the years. Right now I call myself Laura. What do you call yourself?”

  “Silvanus.”

  Laura wrinkled up her nose. “That is a terrible name. Who gave it to you?”

  “A friend.”

  “You should consider changing it if you want to blend in with the humans.”

  Silvanus smiled at that thought. He was elated to be sitting here with Laura, one of his own, but the idea of living his life as a human, to integrate himself into their history, seemed almost too wonderful to believe.

  “If the Stewards want to become Divine, why don’t they stop feeding and allow the change to come? You said there was another lock. What did you mean?”

  “Over the centuries, the Stewards have often sentenced one of their own to some deep pit, some inescapable hole, under the pretense of punishment. But in truth, they were watching, experimenting, weighing the cost.” She took a sip of her coffee and suddenly Silvanus wished he had ordered a cup. “You see, of all the blood drinkers, legions I should think, that have ever taken on the Stone Cloak, only ten‌—‌now eleven‌—‌have ever broken free of the shell and arisen Divine.”

  “Why so few? What makes us different from the rest?”

  Laura motioned for him to lean in closer. She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth as though she feared someone might read the words on her lips. “The truth is, we don’t know. The Stewards believe we hold some great secret, but none of us can remember who we were before and so the key to this mystery is lost.” She leaned back in her seat. “But we let on like we know the answers, if for no other reason than to drive the Stewards crazy. It’s a fun little game.”

  “A game?” Silvanus couldn’t believe the flippant attitude she held. “The Stewards order the deaths of humans and blood drinkers alike, and you tease them as though they were spoiled children.”

  “Long ago, we tried to make a treaty with the blood drinkers and came to their aid before they destroyed the world. They repaid us with betrayal. Now we don’t trouble ourselves with their business.” She took another sip of her coffee. “Why do you care what the blood drinkers do? The Stewards hold no authority over you. They fear your power. Put them out of your mind.”

  “I would, but the only friends I know are vampires and one is a fledgling from my own blood.”

  Laura slammed her mug onto the table, shattering it and splashing coffee across the floor. “You created a blood drinker?”

  “Yes. Her name is Jerusa. She was dying from the bite of a savage.”

  Laura jumped up, sending her chair skipping out into the crowded sidewalk. Silvanus stood to his feet, unsure if she was about to scream or strike him. Her eyes were wide and wild and her beautiful features were pulled into a sneer.

  Silvanus reached out to her. He was about to ask why she was so angry, but before he could voice his question, Laura vanished from his sight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jerusa climbed out from beneath the stage and Celeste rushed around the perimeter of the room to meet her. Jerusa wiped the dust and cobwebs out of her face, but her clothes were stained with black, sooty smears.

  “How did you know I was beneath there?” Jerusa asked. A sudden fear arose in her. If Celeste and the nameless vampire had sensed her beneath the stage, did that mean that Marjek and the others knew as well? “Could you see me? Or smell me?”

  “No, I just felt that you were close by. Beneath the stage is the only place to hide.” When Jerusa looked at her questioningly, Celeste said, “I’m an augur. I feel things sometimes. I can’t explain it.”

  Jerusa understood. There were things about herself that she couldn’t explain. “Why did you come back here for me?”

  “We are under a daylight curfew. You need to get back to your room. You don’t want to be caught out after sunup.”

  She started to turn for the door, but Jerusa touched her arm. “No, why are you helping me?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I like to think that it does.”

  Celeste looked over her shoulder. “It’s just another augur thing. I just have a feeling . . .” She started to say more, but thought better of it. “Look, I’m trying to keep you alive. That’s all that should matter right now.”

  “Why should I trust you? You’re a Hunter. All you know is death.”

  “You’re one to talk.” Celeste’s eyes drifted all around the room. “You’re the one surrounded by ghosts.”

  Jerusa snatched her hand back from Celeste’s arm. “I didn’t make them ghosts. They just follow me.”

  “I didn’t ask for an explanation. Will you just please follow me, before it’s too late?”

  Jerusa nodded. Celeste moved up the risers and around the edge of the room, avoiding the center ring with its pile of ash and heat-scarred chains, and that was all right with Jerusa. When they left the room it was like bathing in clean waters. The air was cool, a bit stale, but at least it didn’t smell of fire, death and judgment.

  “What exactly was going on in there?” Jerusa asked. “Why did the High Council kill everyone? I thought they judged on beauty and power. But none of the humans were allowed to go to any of the quarantine communities.”

  “I’m afraid those days are gone.” Celeste kept her voice low as she moved through the halls, listening for any noise out of place. “I’m not sure what has changed, but the High Council has declared that no more infected humans are to be given refuge.”

  Jerusa thought of Thad and her heart stuck in her throat. “But why did they kill all of the vampires? Not all of them were guilty of breaking the Stewards’ laws.”

  “The laws change on a whim. The Stewards have grown paranoid.”

  Jerusa looked over at the train of spirits following behind her and her eyes fell upon the nameless vampire. “Who is the Monster? Why did it make Marjek so angry when that vampire mentioned him?”

  Celeste stopped. She glanced around nervously, as though her words might conjure some demon from the shadows. “He’s a myth. That’s all. A hunter of Hunters, deformed, crazy, bent on revenge for some wrong dealt to him by the Stewards. He doesn’t exist.”

  Jerusa wanted to point out that Marjek wouldn’t have reacted in such a way if he believed that the Monster was a myth, but she decided to drop the subject. She felt as though she had stepped through a portal into another dimension, one where reality was caught in the swift current of a whirlpool. She felt as though she might suddenly wake up‌—‌the nightmare of her vampiric existence dissipating, like smoke in the wind‌—‌and find herself still at her mother’s house, in her own bed.

  A wave of sadness overtook Jerusa and she had to stop. Somewhere in this wretched house her mother was sick, maybe dying, surrounded by creatures who cared nothing for her and wouldn’t think twice about burning her alive. She looked around at the dim tunnels. The great house covered a good sized piece of ground, but the labyrinth below it could very well go on for miles. Was her mother close by? Perhaps just around the next bend, behind the next door? Jerusa wanted to go to her, to hold her. If she was going to die, didn’t she deserve for it to be in the arms of the only person that loved her? Jerusa wished that she had told her mother the truth, all of it. Even if she hadn’t believed her, thought her mad and banished her forever, at least Jerusa would have explained why she had left, why she had to abandon her mother.

  Celeste noticed Jerusa had stopped and came back to her. “What is it? Are you all right? Is it the thirst? Is one of the ghosts attacking you?”

  Jerusa smiled despite the gaping hole she had raging in her soul. Celeste was like a sleep-deprived chipmunk on caffeine. Had she started bouncing up and down in agitated anticipation, Jerusa would not have been surprised.

  “I’m fine,” Jerusa said, motioning for Celeste to calm down. “Is the observation ward near? Y’know, the place they took my mom.”

  Cele
ste hesitated a moment, unsure if she should answer. “No, sorry. It’s in another wing of the house. Near the Watchtower.” She whispered the last word, but whether from fear or reverence, Jerusa couldn’t tell.

  “Can you take me there? I want to check on her.”

  “No,” she said firmly and left Jerusa standing there.

  Jerusa ran after her. “Please. I just want to make sure she’s all right. She’s all alone. I’m all she has.”

  “I can’t.” She looked around a corner. “It’s too dangerous. It’s forbidden to go so near the Watchtower. They’ll know we’re there. There is no way to hide from them.”

  Jerusa touched her shoulder and gently turned her around. “I don’t want her to die alone in this place. Please take me to her.”

  Celeste had trouble keeping eye contact with Jerusa. She could feel the conflict raging within her. “Okay,” she said, brushing Jerusa’s hand away. “I may be able to cloak our presence for a short time. But not tonight. Daylight is almost here. It’ll have to be tomorrow night.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You might not like what you see.” She motioned for Jerusa to follow. “C’mon, the elevators are just ahead.”

  They made their way back to the elevators without encountering anyone, but just as they passed, heading for secret passage in the utility room, the doors opened and out stepped an elderly woman.

  Jerusa recognized her as one of the infected humans who served the house. The woman stood startled for a moment at the sight of the two vampires skulking through the dark. Her gray hair was disheveled and she was panting, as though she had been running. She took a few steps forward, limping. She clutched her chest, pulled in a series of deep breaths and braced herself against the wall.

  Jerusa caught the scent of the woman and the thirst churned within her. The woman was so weak, so helpless, Jerusa could take her before she even had a chance to register that she had been attacked. All she needed was the first few drops of her blood. If she could get her fangs into the woman, even Alicia couldn’t pry her away.

  Alicia anticipated this move and placed her hand on Jerusa’s shoulder. She tried to shrug away, but the ghost only tightened her grip.

  “Oh, thank goodness it’s you,” the woman said after catching her breath. She stepped forward, grasping for Jerusa’s arm, but she took a step back with the help from Alicia’s gentle tug. “You have to come. Please hurry.”

  “What’s wrong?” Celeste asked, her voice both concerned and reluctant at the same time.

  “The boy,” she said, keeping her eyes on Jerusa. “The boy that came with you.”

  “Thad?” Jerusa forgot for a moment the nagging thirst brewing within her.

  “Yes, Thad. He needs your help. Come quickly.”

  Celeste and Jerusa followed the woman into the elevator. Jerusa backed in the corner farthest from the woman and made sure that Celeste was between them. The woman eyed Jerusa, suspecting something, but she showed no fear of being attacked. Perhaps she had been so long in the company of vampires that she had grown lax in her vigilance or maybe she had just lived long enough not to care how her life would end. Either way, Jerusa found her demeanor comforting. Fear and panic made the thirst worse.

  The elevator descended two floors and opened upon a large spherical room. A thunderous roar of voices echoed throughout the room, bouncing off of the stone, swirling together until they formed the sound of a great rushing river. The clamor originated from a corridor across from the elevators, seeping through the thick oak of many doors. The doors were all closed, except for one at the very end of the corridor. Through the open door came the soft, ruddy light of a muted fire.

  The woman led them down the corridor into the open room where a large furnace sat purring like a slumbering dragon, exhaling its dry, superheated breath at them. A table was overturned beneath a large black gas pipe. Tied to the pipe was a flat piece of cloth. Thad lay on the floor beneath it, the other half of the rope around his neck, his head resting on a pillow of blood.

  Jerusa called out his name, but turned from the sight. The blood sent a shockwave through her and it was all she could do not to fall on the ground and lap it up like a dog.

  “What happened to him?” Jerusa asked.

  “I found him hanging from the pipes. He tried to kill himself. I cut him down, but when he fell he cracked his head on the stone. Please, we must move him before anyone else finds him here.”

  Jerusa moved further away. “I can’t.” She clutched her stomach. “Celeste, you have to do something.”

  Celeste looked up at the woman. “Dot, the blood.”

  Dot understood what was needed without any further instructions. She ran to the furnace and opened a panel near the bottom. She grabbed a metal bucket resting nearby and scooped up a pile of glowing embers. Celeste hoisted Thad into a sitting position and Dot dumped the embers over the puddle of blood.

  The blood still dripped from the back of Thad’s head. Celeste looked the wound over with a calm and steady hand. “It’s just a scalp laceration.” She put her thumb into her mouth, ripped open the skin with her fang and let a few droplets fall down upon Thad’s head. Immediately the wound closed. “The bleeding has stopped. Will you be okay or should I take him alone?”

  “I can still smell the blood,” Jerusa said. “I don’t think I can be near him right now.”

  “If you take him,” Dot said to Celeste, “I will make sure she gets back to her room before sunrise. But we must hurry. They will be bringing the dead humans down from the judgment hall any time now.”

  “Thank you, Dot.” Celeste scooped Thad into her arms and rushed down the corridor.

  With the scent of Thad’s blood now fading, the thirst began to ebb. Dot approached her, but Jerusa stopped her. “Not too close, please. It’s not safe.”

  Dot nodded. “We should go.”

  She led Jerusa back down the corridor. The howling started to wane or at least had grown hoarse. Most of the noise came from the doors on her left. They were human voices, talking in languages she didn’t understand. It was the noises on the right‌—‌particularly the ones coming from the door closest to the furnace room‌—‌that concerned her.

  “Are those savages in there?” Jerusa approached the door and pressed her ear against the polished wood. She could hear them growling and chattering, but it sounded far away.

  Dot came to her side, reached out, but stopped short of taking her by the hand. “Please, we need to go. There are more important things to worry about right now.”

  “Why are the Stewards keeping savages? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  Dot could see that Jerusa would not move until she had her answer. She glanced about in panicked jerks. “All right. I’ll tell you what I know. This house is very old. There are a few secret ways in and out. The Stewards have placed a group of savages at each of the three secret exits to keep out any intruders.”

  “Or to keep anyone from escaping.”

  “Exactly. Can we please go now?”

  “Where does this door lead to? Where does the secret exit come out, I mean?”

  Dot sighed in frustration. “Through that door you’ll find a deep pit with slick walls, not easily climbed, even for a vampire. At the bottom there is an iron portcullis that keeps the savages from entering a network of caves. I have never been down there, but I’ve heard talk from the Hunters that it is a series of dead ends and roundabouts, but if you are able to find your way through, it will take you to an opening hidden behind a cascade several miles to the west. That’s all I know.”

  Jerusa stepped away from the door. “The Stewards just trust that the savages will never get out?”

  “There are surveillance cameras in the pit,” Dot said. “And a patrol of Hunters come by now and then to check. That is why we need to hurry.”

  As they approached the elevator a light between the two doors clicked on with a ding. The needle of the floor indicator began to drop.

&n
bsp; “Damn,” Dot said in a hiss. “Come on, hurry.”

  She hobbled around the left side of the elevator shaft at a pace slower than a walk. At the corner where the elevator shaft met the wall, Dot frantically searched the grout edge of several blocks. She mumbled to herself, sometimes in what sounded to be Russian and Jerusa worried the woman’s heart might explode from her anxiety. At last, she found what she was looking for. She pressed the corner of a block at eye level and a section of the grout gave way. Moments later a door, seamlessly hidden within the block wall, swung open.

  “Who built this house?” Jerusa asked as she followed Dot inside. “Batman?”

  “I don’t know who that is,” Dot said, closing the door. “Now, hush, if you value your life and the lives of your friends.”

  With the hidden door closed, the room they were in was tarred in darkness. Even Jerusa’s vampiric eyes could detect no light. She could, however, hear the elevator car come to a halt on the other side of the stone wall. From the sound of the footsteps two had exited the elevator. They spoke to each other, but their voices were muffled by the thick stone‌—‌Jerusa thought they were speaking another language anyhow. She vowed to herself, that if she survived her judgment, that she would dedicate the first part of eternity to learning all the languages of the world.

  Dot touched her arm and Jerusa quickly pulled away, not just because of the thirst, but because enough people had learned of her spectral gift already.

  “We need to hurry,” Dot whispered. “Daylight is coming. I can’t see anything, but we should be able to follow the wall for a ways.”

  And that is how they traveled for a time. Dot groped her way in the darkness, one hand always against the stone. Jerusa followed behind Dot, tracking her movement by the sounds of her body and her scent trail. The floor began to ascend in a gentle slope and from time to time made a sharp turn. It felt like an eternity in that dark tunnel. Dot hobbled slower and slower and it was all Jerusa could do not to rush ahead to see what awaited them.