by J. R. Rain
“Yes, Sam. There was a warlord king in those days. A powerful and wicked young man who delighted in killing others. Who delighted in impaling them and watching them bleed.”
“Don’t say it,” I said again.
“Yes, Sam. Dracula was the first of your kind.”
“Damn, you said it.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
“Is Dracula still alive today?”
“Yes, Sam.”
“And the old vampire, Dominique, the one who Kingsley killed in the cavern—”
“Was one of the first to be turned by Dracula.”
“Am I dreaming?” I asked.
“No, Sam.”
“That’s exactly what I would expect someone in my dream to say.”
“I assure you, Samantha. This is all very real, and it’s happening now.”
“Fine,” I said, sitting back. “Continue.”
And continue he did. The dark masters had found a way to circumvent Hermes’ spell that had cast them from this world. And the way back in was through possession.
“Okay, that part I know,” I said, “but where does your mother fit into all of this?”
“She was one of the greatest of her kind.”
“Dark masters?”
“Yes,” said Maximus. “I watched her kill many and destroy many lives. I watched her torture and maim and wreak havoc. I watched her drink blood from the very old and the very young.”
“Was she a vampire then?”
“There were no vampires then.”
“Okay, now that’s just sick.”
“That was Mother.”
“No wonder you have issues.”
He smiled sadly, and continued, “She was unusually powerful. Unusually proficient in the darker arts. She didn’t have to go this route, you know. She could have done goodness in the world.”
“Maybe your mother was a good, old-fashioned psychopath.”
“I suspect so.”
“Lucky me,” I said.
“Quite the opposite, Sam. Lucky her.”
“What does that mean?”
“I suspect she is benefiting by being a part of your life, Sam.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She is with you constantly, seeing through your eyes, experiencing life through you.”
“Yeah, so? She’s a parasite.”
“You are her first host, Sam.”
“Do you have any idea how creepy that sounds?”
“I imagine, but hear me out. She has been waiting for the right person for many centuries.”
“And I’m the right person?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain that in a moment.”
“How about if you explain it now?”
“Very well, Sam. You are particularly attractive to her because of your bloodline.”
“What about my bloodline?” I had a very bad feeling about this.
He held up his hand. “No, Sam. You are not my distant relative, but you are a distant relative to someone else.”
“Oh, God. Please don’t say Dracula.”
“Not Dracula, Sam.”
“Then who—” Then it hit me. “Hermes.”
“Yes, Sam. The greatest alchemist who’d ever lived had a child.”
I thought back to the time in the cavern. Hanner had said my sister would do just as well. They were prepared to kill me and infect her with the same demon who lived in me, his mother. And my sister would have come from the same bloodline, of course.
“Now that you know, Sam, perhaps you can understand why your own powers seem to be growing so quickly. Combine your lineage with my mother’s power...and you have the potential to be unstoppable.”
“I don’t want to be unstoppable. I just want to be me.”
“I know, Sam.”
“So, what do I do?” I asked. “Remove her?”
“You could.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Then what would stop her from going after my sister? Or my daughter?”
“Good points, Sam.”
“What does she want with me, anyway?”
“Only an offspring of Hermes can unseal the doorway between worlds.”
“Okay, now I know I’m on the set of The Vampire Diaries.” I looked around. “Where’s Damon? Hell, I’ll even take Stefan.”
“This is not a film set, Sam. I’m sorry.”
I sat back, exhaled. “Let me guess: if she can possess me completely, she could potentially return all the banned dark masters?”
“Yes, Sam.”
“Well, fuck.” I stood and paced along the carpeted area before the reading chairs. Maximus sat back, fingers steepled under his chin, watching me. “I almost...” and I couldn’t believe I was about to say this, “I almost think I shouldn’t release her. That I should keep her caged in me. That I should keep fighting her.”
He said nothing, watching me carefully.
I continued pacing. “I am doing a good job of fighting her. But...but she’s gaining ground. I can feel her inching closer to the surface.”
“You can fight her, Sam.”
“Fight her how?”
“You won’t believe me if I say it.”
I stopped in front of him. “Try me.”
“You fight her with love.”
Chapter Forty
“She’s laughing,” I said.
“I imagine she is. My mother rarely, if ever, used words like love.”
“She’s calling you worthless, a disappointment. Should I stop?”
Maximus shook his bowed head. I couldn’t see his expression, but from what I could tell, this was nothing he hadn’t heard before. “Better to let it out, Sam, than to keep her vitriol bottled up inside you.”
“She says you’re an embarrassment. She’s telling me that you are my enemy, to not listen to you, to fight you. To kill you.”
“Nice chatting with you, too, Ma,” he said.
The demon inside—his mother—was filling my thoughts with her anger, her rage. They bubbled up from down deep. I sensed I could have stopped them. Demanded that she back off. I sensed she would have to listen, too. That she had to listen. But I spoke her words anyway.
“She wants to make a deal with me. If I give her a few minutes a day, or a week, she will back off, leave me alone.”
“I caution you against it—”
“She tells me I will have peace again, if I give her a chance to make an occasional appearance.”
“Sam, please...”
“She tells me that it won’t hurt, and that she won’t hurt any of my loved ones.”
“Sam...”
“She’s telling me that she and I, together, could start something new, something great. We could stand up to you, and to the world, and create our own destiny.”
“Sam, I beg you...”
“Well, don’t worry. I told her to go fuck herself and crawl back under the rock she came from.”
The Librarian, who was leaning forward on his elbows and staring at me with enough intensity to power a Prius, exhaled audibly. “Thank you, Sam.”
“I’m not sure what’s going on, or how she intends to use me, or what she intends to do with me once she has me, but one thing I do know: she’s pure evil.”
“That’s my ma.”
“So, what’s this business about beating her with love?”
“It’s happening already.”
“What’s happening now?”
“You. You are effecting change just by being who you are. She is forced to see love, to see good, and she hates it. It’s why she is pushing to get out. Your life is affecting her.”
“My life is chaotic,” I said. “My life is filled with my kids fighting and Anthony’s skid marks. And not necessarily in that order.”
He smiled. “Perhaps, Sam. But it’s also filled with love. You loving your kids. You sacrificing for your kids. You loving and caring for your friends and family. She cannot help bu
t to feel it as well. And this is a new experience for her. The more you love, the more your spirit shines, and the more she is affected.”
“And then what?” I said.
“And then, I don’t know.”
“You expect her to change?”
“Love has that effect on people. It’s been known to happen. Love and hate are but two ends of the same pole. Extreme ends, granted. But each day you love is another day she is being exposed to such influences.”
“And another day that she rebels,” I said.
“Indeed, Sam. I did not say it would be easy.”
“So, I’m a big experiment.”
“You don’t have to be, Sam.”
“No,” I said. “Except, if I let her loose with the diamond medallion, she might go after my family next. To conveniently arrange for one of them to be attacked, too.”
“I would not put it past her.”
“So, I’m stuck with her.”
“That is up to you, Sam.”
A horrible thought just occurred to me. “What’s to stop other dark masters—not necessarily your mother—from attacking my daughter and sister, since we are all descendants of Hermes, as you say.”
“It’s a good question. My mother was clearly one of the strongest, greatest of her kind. It could only be her, or someone like her, who could perform the necessary magicks to bring down the veil.”
“So, how many are like her?”
“Only a small handful, Sam. Three or four at most. And these are currently in residence with other hosts.”
“You mean they’re currently vampires.”
“And werewolves, too.”
“Demons and vampires and werewolves, oh my!” I said.
I paused next to the diamond medallion, picked it up and turned it over in my hand. It caught the surrounding light, and returned it a thousand times. Pure gold and the clearest diamonds will do that. “I need to get a drink,” I said.
“I bet. I could use a stiff one myself.”
“Stiff one? Yeah, you are an old-timer,” I said.
“Well, Sam. What would you like to do with the medallion?”
“I want you to hold onto it,” I said. “For now. I might someday come back for it and take my chances.”
“Fair enough.” I handed it over to him and he took it from me. He stood and slipped it into his pants pocket, and went around the help desk, where I was used to seeing him.
“I guess I’m doomed to drink blood for all eternity,” I said. “And stay out of the light of the sun.”
The Librarian snapped his fingers. “About that. I’ve been a busy boy back here.” He motioned to the hallway behind him.
“I take it those aren’t just offices back there.”
“Far from it.”
“A lab?” I asked. I had an image of frothy test tubes and beakers and Bunsen burners.
He grinned. “Something like that. Hold on.”
I held onto the desk, shaking my head over the craziness of it all. I checked the time on my cell. Shit! I was late picking up the kids again. Damn the Librarian and his crazy hours. I sent Tammy a quick text and told them to wait for me, and that I was on my way. Her text came back just as the Librarian returned. Her text read: Get a grip, Mom!
Never had truer words been spoken. Or texted.
“Is texted a word?” I asked.
“It is now,” he said, and stepped behind the help desk again. He held out two fists. “Pick a hand.”
“A game?” I asked.
“Games are good for the soul. Pick one.”
I picked the right. He turned his fist over and opened it. There. Sitting in the center of his palm, was one of the prettiest gold rings I’d ever seen. Embedded within it was a blue sapphire that sparkled, amazingly, as bright or brighter than the diamond medallion.
“Beautiful!” I said. “Is that for me?”
“Yes, Sam. Put it on.”
I did, on my right index finger. It fit perfectly. “Don’t look so smug,” I told him. “You got my ring size from my mind.”
He looked satisfied anyway. “Pick again.”
“More games?” I asked.
His eyes twinkled for an answer.
I touched his left fist, and he opened it, revealing another ring, with a slightly different design. This one contained an opal. I said, “What are these?” And then it hit me. “They’re from the earlier medallions.”
“Indeed, Sam.”
“But...I destroyed them.”
“In a way, yes, but I managed to rebuild them. Remember, I am the one who created them.” He pointed to the first ring. “The sapphire ring will enable you to exist comfortably in the sunlight. You experienced that before, when you wore it as a medallion. Remember, you are still not at full strength in the sunlight, but at least you will not suffer. The opal ring will allow you to—”
I couldn’t contain myself. “To eat!” I screamed “And to drink!”
“And to be merry. Yes, Sam.”
“Holy shit! I could kiss you.” And I did just that, planting a kiss on his cheek. “But you warned against having all four medallions together. That a dark master could use them to release one of his kind.”
“Indeed, Sam. As you can see, these aren’t medallions. That error has now been fixed.”
“I could kiss you again,” I said. “And again and again.”
And I did so, again and again. Showering the young man who wasn’t really young with kisses on his cheeks and forehead.
Chapter Forty-one
It had been a week, and I was waiting.
The downside of working as a private investigator from one’s home was that all sorts of sketchy types could turn up. Which was why I rarely gave away my home address to anyone I hadn’t screened first. Without a published address, I was hard to find. That was a good thing...unless you wanted to be found.
And this time, I very much wanted to be found.
Which was why I was using another detective’s office. Mr. Jim Knighthorse was a piece of work, and his office was riddled with bullet holes, bloodstains and dog hair, but he let me borrow it for the week, and for that, I was grateful.
Presently, he was on a road trip to Sedona, following up clues to his own case, one that involved a child actor who might or might not be dead. Private eyes are like that. We follow the clues to wherever they may take us. Sometimes they take us to dark places. Other times, they take us to Sedona. At least, he got to write-off a trip.
Anyway, using Knighthorse’s office as a launching point, I followed up with anyone and everyone who might know Lucy Gleason. I visited her parents, her friends, her co-workers. I let them all know that I was looking for her. I gave them all newly printed cards that had Knighthorse’s office address on them.
I did this throughout the week, for hours on end, running people down as they went to work, came home from work, at lunchtime, in their offices. I harassed anyone who knew Lucy, focusing on her family, although I never did come across her sister. I also never came across the red SUV, but that was okay. I had gotten the word out—and there was no evidence that I was going to let up, either.
Now, I knew, it was just a matter of time.
My new rings worked marvelously. I could just kiss the Librarian again, and I just might. I wore one on each index finger, and with them, I was able to work most of the days while my sister watched over my kids. Additionally, I woke up easily and dreamed deeply. But best of all. Best of all...
Was the food.
Oh, God, the food...
* * *
It had taken me two days to work up the courage to eat and in the end, I had just suggested takeout for my first meal.
“Are you nervous?” asked Kingsley on that second day. We were both staring down at a plate full of rich gnocchi from my favorite Italian restaurant—that is, back when I could have Italian food—Geno’s in the City of Orange.
“A little,” I said. “I mean, what if the ring doesn’t work?”
&nbs
p; “Then I expect to see you running to the bathroom. That is, if this shithole has a bathroom.”
“It’s outside,” I said, motioning through Knighthorse’s now-open pebbled-glass door. “And down the hallway.”
“Classy,” said Kingsley. “Well, are you going to try it or not?”
“Give me a minute.”
“It’s getting cold, Sam,” said Kingsley, grinning. “And it looks awfully good, whatever it is. Guh-noshi.”
“Gnocchi,” I said, pronouncing it correctly. “And they’re potatoes.”
“And why again did you pick potatoes over meat for your first meal?”
“Because...they’ll go down a little easier. My stomach hasn’t had to digest anything other than blood in nearly a decade. Well, blood, wine and water.”
“Sounds like a Christian band,” said Kingsley. “Blood, Wine and Water.”
“Will you just zip it?” I said. “This is serious business. You do realize that this will be the first time I will have eaten anything—”
“Yes, Sam. The first time since the last time you sneaked some Oreos a few years ago and subsequently vomited them within seconds.”
“No one likes a know-it-all,” I said. “And this is a momentous occasion for me.”
“And you’re sharing it with me,” said Kingsley. “Should I be touched?”
“You should be quiet,” I said, but gave him a half-smile.
He made a gesture of zipping his lips closed, locking them, and tossing away the key.
“Okay,” I said. “Here goes.”
Kingsley watched me with great interest and some amusement as I lifted a forkful of the still-steaming gnocchi—which Kingsley had thoughtfully brought to me on his lunch break—up from the plate and toward my lips. That it smelled heavenly went without saying. My mouth watered. A very human reaction.
“Here goes,” I said.
“You said that.”
“Right.”
And in it went, slowly. I wrapped my lips around the fork hesitantly, cautiously, then used my teeth to scrape the gnocchi clean off. Butter, olive oil and garlic exploded in my mouth. I had wondered if my taste buds would even work. But they did—and then some. More so than I was prepared for.
“Oh, my God.”
“That good, huh?”
“Mmm. Holy shit.”