Adrian saw the possessive look glittering in Garland's eyes. The man already considered it a done deal, and Adrian would be his ghoul. Possessive and Adrian did not get along. Adrian had dropped a boyfriend or three for that reason, and a vampire master wasn't somebody you could just dump.
"My answer will be the same, Garland.” Adrian stressed his name with a sickeningly sweet tone that would have made Mary Poppins barf. Alarm bells screeched internally at Adrian as Garland focused unblinkingly on him. Garland was damn good at it, too.
Too bad he wasn't living. Adrian would have seriously considered a relationship, but with Garland, he'd regret it, and for longer than a regular lifetime. There was nothing Adrian could do but get out of there with a whole skin.
"I'll hold my own against whatever your friends throw at me. And remember, I can turn you in for trying to put me under, Garland."
It still pissed him off that the vampire had tried to put him under at the Mayor's party.
Garland didn't seem suitably impressed. There wasn't an one iota of change in his smile, and the half-lidded look returned. The glittering blue of Garland's eyes contained a feral anticipatory gleam. “But you won't. Or you would have already."
Garland seemed entirely too sure of himself and Adrian for Adrian's comfort. Abruptly, Adrian turned away from Garland and walked sedately out the door, even though he wanted to run like hell. On a scale of one to ten, his life had dropped to minus forty-four.
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Chapter 4
Adrian had two days to live, at this rate, and sleep wasn't an option, so he called Yarborough instead. Dosed with several shots of coffee, Adrian settled in Yar's library less than an hour later.
Yar was a friendly, all around fountain of information, and an arsenal extraordinaire. Adrian had met him a few years back when he'd taken self-defense classes and Yar had been the instructor. If you needed to know something or have any kind of weapon, Yar was the dude who knew everything and could find the things you wanted. His short blond hair stuck out from his head at odd angles, definitely needing a comb taken to the mess. A gray, oversized T-shirt engulfed his thin body, and looked badly wrinkled, as if he'd been sleeping in it.
"What's the problem, Adrian?"
"Nothing much. I just need a crash course in vampires and figured you were the best.” Sometimes flattery could go a long way, and it usually worked with Yar. This time he didn't look like he bought it, but Adrian hoped Yar wouldn't bother him with any personal questions.
"All right, tell me how much you already know."
"I don't know a lot about vampires. Just that they're strong, fast, they've got some super powers, and Diocourides invented them. He spent years figuring out how to, and a lot of dead bodies later, tada, vampire.” What Adrian knew wouldn't fill a thimble.
"Never took V101, huh?” It was a rhetorical question, so Yar didn't wait for an answer. “No matter, you wouldn't have learned much useful anyway. For starters, in 11 BC, Titus Sennius Diocourides developed a formula for immortality. They had the legends of vampires, but nobody knows if any existed. I assume that's where he got his idea: blood, and you just needed the right alchemy formula."
"I bet he never won the Nobel."
"It didn't exist then.” Sometimes Yar missed the point, and Adrian smirked at him.
"Dio knew he was on to something with his formula. After draining his test subjects, he fed the formula to them. It took about five years to get a formula that would even make the body twitch. Thirteen years later, he had his first success. He eventually came up with six different formulas. Of course, the first batch he perfected was a kicker. Diocourides took it and survived. If you ever have the chance to meet any of the first formula vampires, run for your life."
"I take it the Princes aren't the strongest of the lot."
"Hardly, but there aren't a whole lot of first batchers around in public. Most of the vampires you see running things are second formula, your everyday, average Princes. It continues on down with third formula being the Enforcers, fourth, and so on, each weaker than the prior formula. Got it so far?"
"Got it.” Adrian knew Yar was the foremost-acknowledged expert on vampires, so Yar knew what he was talking about.
"Vampires are basically divided into twenty different families. A few off the top of my head would be Magi, Proeliatores, Umbrae, Sicarii, Mutati, Sanguinus Reges, and Caelestes. Diocourides choose most from the brightest and best families in Rome. No one is quite sure what the differences are between the families except for a basic few. Some of them are self-explanatory, some aren't, and the vampires don't say much. Not a lot is known about their powers either: speed, fast healing, strength, and long life with an ability to control others are about it."
"I don't suppose you've compiled a list, have you?"
"A few. Explanations are listed in my notebooks. Which I'll give you as soon as you let me finish. Now, where was I?” Yar paused a moment to pick up the train of his thought. “Oh, yes. A formal greeting from one of them will give you an idea of what type of vampire you're dealing with, and will go something along the lines of a bow and ‘I am Rudolph, Sicarii of the first formula 489.’ Any numbers mean age so in Rudolph's case he's 489 years old."
"Have you ever met any of the first ones created?” Adrian asked.
"Luckily, no. Their structure of power is based on the Roman way of running things. Diocourides is at the head of the Romanorum, with several of the first formulas. Princes serve similar to ancient senators, only they take care of their own towns and run the Senate. Centurions, also known as enforcers, make everybody obey the rules. Most of the high powered ones are in still in Italy."
"Don't certain ones run the show for each country? I think I remember reading something along that line."
"As far as I know, Selena Kerr runs things in England. Nikolai Diamond is head of the United States, and Garnier rules Europe. Their political and social infrastructure is a vast one. The rest is in here, you can have it since it's just copies of my personal notes."
"So what's in the formula besides blood, Yar?"
"I have no clue. Diocourides kept his society a secret, and it remained that way for thousands of years. Unfortunately, the society overdid things eventually. You've heard of the massacres of the sixties, right?” This time, Yar paused, waiting for an answer.
"Yeah, the government found out vampires existed and had to crack down because too many vamps were running around and snacking on their taxpayers. Not good for the IRS."
"Close enough. A faction of vampires broke from the main body because they decided vampires were meant to rule things. At first the government scrambled blindly, trying to control the resultant chaos. Diocourides’ society sided with the government after their existence was revealed; the smart ones figured a planet overpopulated by vampires wasn't a good food source. The government, in their infinite wisdom, even tried to make an elite force of vampire soldiers, then quickly had to get the Society's help to eliminate them. After that, the Romanorum hurriedly cut a deal with some of the politicians."
"Way before my time, Yar, but I've read the history books.” By the time Adrian was in high school, Vampire History had become a part of the curriculum along with American History.
"The formulas are a jealously guarded secret among some of the Princes and top brass in Washington, and only a designated Prince or elder member of the Romanorum can give out the magical formula. Everybody involved strictly regulates the number of vampires.” Once focused on his favorite subject, Yar had a habit of going on and on. Which, for Adrian, was a very good thing.
"Then what about drinking a vampire's blood and getting to be a baby vamp?"
"Hollywood, pure and simple. You only get a ghoul if you do that; their blood plus one of the formulas is necessary for creating a vampire, and the mortal must be willing and drained."
Stretching out his legs to get more comfortable, Adrian said. “I've heard a bit about ghouls. Sounds like a fun life."
"It has its points, Adrian. Some of the ability and you still get to be alive and walk in the sunshine, too. They also have their own structure. Top dog is Omnium Dilectissimus or Dilectissima on the female side; otherwise known as Favored One, a vampire's personal favorite. Considered just as powerful as the one who created him or her. Ghouls have their own rank and specialty, and it's strictly regulated. No need to have a planet overflowing with superhuman types."
"Any safeguards for the poor mortals?” Adrian asked as casually he could.
"Adrian, I know damn well you wouldn't ask without a reason, but I'll let you keep it to yourself, for now. It's the Prince's responsibility to keep everyone in line and dispense justice to the vampires under him or her. We poor mortals can stake them, but we can't kill them. If any vampires screw up, the enforcers hunt them down."
"What about anything like crosses or garlic? Something has to work against them, Yar."
"Crosses are handy if you've got enough faith, but I wouldn't rely on them. Mother Theresa could send a vampire screaming into the night, but the rest of us at best will only piss off a vampire with a cross. There are some witch's charms that work. No truth to any water problems. You can pretty much dismiss anything Hollywood says on the subject except that sunlight will dust them, fire, too."
"Wooden stakes?"
"Staking them doesn't kill them; it paralyzes them, Adrian. It takes a few days for a vampire to mentally work a stake out of its body. That gives you time to run and get the authorities, and hope the Prince or sunlight deals with the problem. Knives and bullets don't cut it; a staker is your best bet since nobody can legally carry around a flamethrower. The staker is the only weapon you can use against vampires. It's a gun modified to shoot metal stakes, works very well on them. I can arrange for a license and some practice if you'd like to learn."
He liked the way Yar put it. It didn't make Adrian sound like he desperately needed those lessons. “Sure, that would be interesting."
"You'll owe me. It'll take some arm twisting to get that license, Adrian."
"I'll owe you one, Yar."
"Two."
"Fine, two.” He was a pushover on this one. “I've got another question. You ever heard of a way to resist being put under?"
"Nothing I ever came across, Adrian. They've tried several experiments with psychics but nothing has ever succeeded. Now, answer a question for me. I heard on the grapevine that Garland is recruiting a new ghoul. Know anything about it?"
"Nope, not a thing, Yar.” His eyes never left Yar's as he gave the man a faintly innocent ‘what are you talking about’ look.
"A guide might be a useful tool in a vampire's hands, come to think on it. So watch your step. Anything else you need to know?"
"Nah, you've helped quite a bit, and the folder should fill in the rest.” Reaching for it, Adrian quickly looked over it. It was at least three inches thick, so it had to be crammed full of what he needed to know.
"You can come back here later tonight for staker practice, Adrian. I've got a firing range in the back."
"Works for me. I really do appreciate the help, Yar."
After leaving Yar's, Adrian headed home and ended up staying awake to read the information in the folder. By later that night, he'd completely read through the folder. After a bit of practice with the staker, he crashed in his bed, vampire information dancing in his dreams.
* * * *
On his last day off, Adrian stood in line with Charlie, waiting to get into the convention center. Charlie danced from foot to foot with impatience. It was interesting to attend these things with Charlie. Charlie was the believer; Adrian was the skeptic.
"Have you even read the I Am Society tracts?"
"Charlie, anything anybody sees while in a trance is not exactly reliable.” Adrian had experimented a while back with some of those trances, and you could see some wild shit.
Charlie gave Adrian a wounded look for his trouble. “You have no understanding, Adrian; some things just have to be accepted without proof."
"I'll leave that to you.” Sometimes Charlie couldn't see beyond what he wanted to believe.
Charlie broke off the discussion as they entered the hall, then proceeded to drag Adrian toward the exhibits. The first one they stopped by was about crop circles.
"Crop circles are a hoax, Charlie."
"Maybe, but not all of them."
Sighing, Adrian shook his head before looking around. The pictures displayed of the circles made for interesting artwork, about as interesting as the dress code in the convention center, with Egyptian princesses wandering the aisles alongside robed guides. Adrian gave up and left Charlie mulling over the circles.
He found the guides’ booth sandwiched between the crystal power and Church of Divinity booths, his old mentor holding down the fort.
"How's it going, Dakota?"
"Give me five and I'll take you to lunch. Tell you all about it."
Adrian smirked at him. “I think the convention air is scrambling your brain. Did you say you're paying for lunch?"
Being notoriously cheap, Dakota's offer to pay for anything qualified as a sacrilegious act. “I owe you a little extra for the Trent case, Adrian. Why didn't you take it, anyway?"
"Personal ethics."
Dakota handed a business card to a browsing customer before turning back to him. “Don't make any sense to me. But thanks for it anyway. It put a nice cushion in my bank account."
Adrian waved to Dakota's sister as she joined them. Casey was a small slip of a thing with a shade of red hair you couldn't get in a bottle. Put her next to Dakota, who reminded Adrian more of an old grizzly bear, and Adrian had never been quite sure how they had managed to come from the same gene pool. “Hey, Cas, Charlie's wandering around here somewhere. I left him at the crop circle booth."
"They're a hoax.” Her grimace reminded Adrian of how he felt dealing with some of Charlie's beliefs.
"I think I mentioned that to him."
"Allie has been asking about you, Adrian. She's over in the other aisle."
"I'll go over after Dakota treats me to lunch."
"Make him take you to the Olive Garden.” Cas shot a grin at Dakota as she moved back behind the counter.
"Just take care of the booth while we go to McDonald's,” Dakota grumbled.
"Cheap, cheap,” Cas teased him.
Walking around the counter, Dakota motioned to Adrian. “I'm out of here. You coming?"
Adrian winked at Cas before following behind Dakota. After ordering and getting their food at McDonald's, they settled at a table.
"I've been hearing some rumors."
When he glanced up, Adrian saw a concerned gaze fixed on him and had the feeling he already knew what it was about. “About?"
"You, mostly."
"Me? Why am I on the hit parade?"
"Getting in over your head with the vamps, Adrian?"
"You were talking to Yar, weren't you?” Adrian took a less than wild guess. Yar had known something was going on, but he hadn't hassled Adrian with questions.
Dakota avoided answering by taking a bite of his burger.
"I had a problem, but I don't anymore.” Adrian really didn't want anybody to know what was going on. He had enough problems with the dead and vampires without the living adding to it.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Positive.” Adrian gave Dakota the straight in the eye, ‘I'm not lying’ gaze.
"Just double-checking.” He finished the burger and finally stopped staring at Adrian.
"Thanks for the concern, but it's not necessary.” Dakota was a gruff, cheap bastard, but he had a heart somewhere in there.
"We got a new guide in the city. Have you heard about her, Adrian?"
"I haven't had time for the news. Fill me in."
"Her name is Alexa Griffith, and I heard something about her.” Dakota finished eating his fries as they talked.
"So what's the new guide up to?” Adrian cleaned up the t
rash and stuck it on the tray. Grabbing his soda, he stood and left the tray for Dakota to dump. “I'm going to have this cup bronzed as a trophy. Have to have a memento of you paying for something willingly."
"Make that cast in gold and give it to me,” Dakota shot back before answering the first question. Contempt rang in the words he spat out, “Possibility of binding."
"Binding?"
"No proof of it. But two weeks ago, a client wanted me to bind his wife. I turned him down. I heard later Miss Griffith accepted his business."
There was no law against binding a wraith to someone, though most guides considered it unethical to force a spirit to hang around like that. “So where is the lovely Miss Griffith operating out of?” Adrian asked as they returned to the guides’ booth.
"Out of her house, Mount Soledad area.” Cas answered with the same disgust Dakota had shown.
"The client was James Masterson, right?"
"He approached you, huh?” Dakota asked, not sounding at all surprised.
"I tossed him out of the office because he's an arrogant bastard. I didn't know about Miss Griffith, so thanks for the tip.” It meant he wouldn't be sending any business her way.
"No problem.” Dakota returned behind the counter, all business now.
"Cas, stop by the apartment later if you get a chance."
"I'll try.” She was busy with another customer, so Adrian wandered off, heading down the aisle to find Allie. Most of the booths didn't interest him, though he did pick up a couple of brochures on cognitive archaeology. Now that interested him.
Allie waved him over the minute she saw him. “I hoped you would come by."
"Has it been busy here?"
"Doing good today. Charlie stopped by a while ago.” Being a practitioner of Wicca, Allie defied the original conception of witches on broomsticks with pointy noses. Or was that chins? She was more on the petite, pocket Venus scale with looks to match. They'd been friends since grade school, and they shared seer ability. Adrian's had veered into guiding, and hers sidelined into witchcraft. She had him convinced there was something to it, but guiding took up most of his time so his interest never delved too deeply into the practice.
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