She hesitated. “Dare I bring up those memories? There was one, Gaston. If he would have overthrown Father, maybe none of this would have happened."
"What went wrong?"
"Father turned us all into vampires, but Gaston became a vampire, too. Mestiphles told us how to kill him and his rebels. We won and Father absorbed Gaston."
"Absorbed?"
"Only Victoria was there when it happened. Gaston is not dead. His soul is inside Father."
"So that man we see,” Jean stuttered. “It's Antonio's body, but Gaston's mind and soul?"
"No.” Samantha smiled a bit. “I guess you could say he keeps Gaston chained up in the basement."
Jean laughed. “Widely used concept around here!"
Samantha smiled sheepishly, and then they laughed wholeheartedly. It felt so good to laugh—a simple pleasure lost in her eight hundred odd years.
As they laughed, a small slink of mist crept down the chimney. It mingled with the smoke from the fire, and the misty smoke swirled and dispersed into the room.
Jean stopped laughing and braved, “What if we wound Antonio and release Gaston? If he were comatose, perhaps, Gaston could help us? Together, the three of us can destroy Antonio and the rest of them."
"We will still be vampires.” Samantha shook her head, but Jean held her.
"At least then we won't have to abide by this world domination plan."
The mist's fiery green eyes flashed.
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Chapter 24
Antonio sat at the head of the table. This time, Elizabeth sat on his right, and only her children and their fledglings were at the table. Victoria sat at the opposite end. She had interrupted Antonio and Pamela for this. She might have been Stephen's fledgling, but the voluptuous Pamela would have to wait.
Antonio remained seated. “You called this meeting, Victoria. What is the problem?"
The room was silent for a few seconds. Catrina sneered at her as always. The latter pushed her chair away from the table, and the screech on the floor broke the silence. Victoria cleared her throat.
"My fellow coven members,” she began. “Our goal is to conquer the world, but sadly, our conquest has been slowed over the centuries by religious persecutions, witch hunts, and yes, even ourselves. We have fought wars with other covens, covens like ours, and we have won. Repeatedly and repeatedly. Victory after victory."
Victoria clenched her fist and banged it on the table. “Now, after all these years, a battle has begun, which will be our most difficult. My friends, one of our own has conspired against us."
A general outcry arose around the table. James was shocked, and Theodore looked around the table. Antonio couldn't hide his look of disbelief.
"Yes, yes. It is true.” Victoria put her head down. Rain looked up at his maker. The Indian was not oblivious to her coy nature, but her speech held sway over them all.
"Who?"
"Tell us!"
"You must!"
"Samantha."
Again, an outcry arose. James turned to Catrina, stunned.
"Samantha?” Antonio stood and flung his chair back. “Samantha? My human daughter as well as my fledgling? How could she?"
"It is that Jean!” Victoria pressed. Young Eddie nodded his head in agreement. The youthful fledgling of Catrina often followed without question, but Elizabeth looked up carefully.
"He has corrupted Samantha. Taken advantage of her! Jean has corrupted her kind heart and used Samantha as the medium of his wicked ways. He has turned her kind, sweet naiveté against us for his own desires, which is to kill us all!"
Sarah sneered in agreement. Her warrior heart was always ready for battle, even one led by Victoria.
"My friends, you know what must be done."
"No!” Elizabeth stood and pleaded with Antonio. “Not Jean. Let me handle him. Please!"
James looked away from his mother. Her voice became softer, and she grabbed Antonio's sleeve. “He's my only living fledgling. Antonio, don't do it. The Masquerade!"
Antonio turned away from her. He had set rules for his house, and too often they were broken. An example must be set. Should he cower here? Now, in front of these fledglings? Hardly. Antonio licked his lips.
"I declare the Death Game on Jean and Samantha."
Elizabeth cried and tumbled to the floor. James rushed to his mother's aid and Catrina stood. Victoria allowed a faint smirk to cross her face.
Antonio walked quickly toward the doors. “It's happening again."
He stormed from the dining room and into the corridor. He listened to the thoughts of his family, but Antonio masked his own whereabouts with his mind.
Brick wall. No one can read my thoughts.
He stopped before an aging painting of Samantha as a child. He tried to ignore her small, sweet face and felt along the golden colored frame. The noise of a latch and bolt sliding broke the silence of the corridor. Antonio looked to his left and then his right, but he was alone. The lower left corner of the painting creaked opened like a door.
A large Alaskan malamute burst through the door. He hopped and danced around the hall, and his bushy tail swished happily and playfully. Antonio stepped in the door and commanded the dog mentally, and then he spoke.
"Gaston, not now."
The dog was determined to disobey.
"Gaston!” Antonio raised his voice, and the dog winced at the high pitch. He looked up at Antonio with big brown eyes, and the man gave in.
"Come ‘ere, boy. Come on.” The dog galloped into Antonio's arms, knocking him over, and drenching his face with dog kisses
He smiled briefly. “Okay, boy, okay."
Gaston finally calmed. Antonio got up and dusted himself of the paw prints and stray animal hair. He followed his furry friend into the dark stone passageway behind the portrait. The hidden door slid shut, and Antonio delved deeper into the maze of old passages. He needed no light to guide him, but the poor dog tripped over himself and Antonio's heels several times. The dark hall opened to a small stone room. In its center were a chair and a standing candelabra dripping with flames and candle wax. Antonio sat down in the chair and lost himself in his grief.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 25
Samantha shut the bedroom door, but her room hadn't changed in the last day she spent with Jean. The faded flowered wallpaper was still there, as was the perhaps juvenile four-poster bed.
The sun shined in through the window, and Samantha went to the closet. She pulled on her jeans and buttoned her flannel. She heard a noise and paused. She cocked her head and listened for the noise again. There it was—underneath the bed.
Rat. Damn creatures.
Samantha reached down next to her shoes and pulled out a wooden stool. She stepped up on the stool, reached for the top shelf, and brought down a green and black kilt. Samantha set the kilted bundle on the floor and unraveled the broadsword wrapped within it. She stepped toward the bed with her sword in hand.
"Ouch!” Samantha's chin hit the hardwood floor, and she turned to see the culprit. The bundled kilt lay twisted around her ankles.
It felt like someone grabbed my ankles!
Samantha kicked the kilt off, stood, and checked her chin for blood. If there had been any, it was gone now.
Samantha proceeded to the bed unscathed. She crouched down and lifted up the bed skirt. Outside of dust bunnies, nothing was there. She put the floral printed skirt back in place and rose. A chill went up her spine.
Who's there?
A figure materialized behind Samantha. For better or for worse, another trick of those who wished not to be seen.
James!
She turned and raised her sword. She had plenty of years to practice, and the equally versed James lunged at her. The powerful clash of their swords echoed and would have pulverized mere human eardrums.
"Guess what, Sister?” James pushed on his sword, trying to break her. “The Death Game's on."
Sam
antha let down her guard briefly, and James took full advantage of his self-imposed opportunity. He knocked her sword from her hands and flung her over the bed.
"Get up, Samantha.” He gulped. “Better I do it, than Victoria. Be valiant! Die in battle. If this is my end, so be it."
* * * *
Antonio sat still in his hidden room as Gaston lay at his side. The dog whimpered and rolled onto his back.
"Oh, all right, boy.” Antonio kneeled on the floor and scratched the dog's furry tummy. He stopped for a moment, and Gaston's ears perked. Antonio felt the vibration of footsteps, and he heard faint steps in the distance. The steps grew louder, and then a tall young man stepped into the dim circle of candlelight.
"Mestiphles.” Antonio cleared his throat and prepared for his sarcastic words. “To what do I deserve this honor?"
"You do not deserve the honor of my presence, that's for sure. Well, look at you!” Mestiphles put his hands on his hips as his hair bounced and his blue eyes glistened.
"Forgive me,” Antonio said with a twinge. He offered his chair to Mestiphles.
"I am here to put your ass back in line!” He took the chair, and his mop locks fell in front of his face. He flicked the blonde mass back with the toss of his head. “This is pathetic. Not only have your own turned against you—yet again—but what are you doing about it? Nothing! You're sitting here playing with your dog."
Antonio spoke up, “I was reading the chronicles, trying to find their method of destruction."
Mestiphles stroked his hair with his hands. “Reading in the dark? Your eyes are not that good, my friend. You are behind in your work, and now you've got these domestic situations. Ann wasn't even at your latest Death Game meeting. She has the right to defend her kin."
"I thought it best not to have further disputes,” Antonio fumbled.
"You thought it best to forget our rules. Or maybe you let your little diva Victoria take over one too many times? Her prowess is no good without discipline."
He almost turned sincere. “What has happened to you? You never had this much trouble before. Maybe you've been out of competition for too long. It's catching up to you."
Antonio sat on the floor and looked up at Mestiphles. “We don't need any help. Look what happened last time."
Mestiphles waved his finger at him. “Do not turn this on me. I am trying to help you."
Antonio smirked at Mestiphles. “Jean. Elizabeth finally keeps a fledgling around, and he takes up with Samantha!"
"Jean has the desire to be human again and the hate against the vampire to fuel his attacks, plus Samantha's knowledge. Do not underestimate her. Do not fear him. That will be your undoing. You should know that. Do I need to remind you?"
Antonio ignored his last comment. “The Death Game is on. He will be hunted down soon enough."
"He better be. This is your last chance, Antonio. These underground parties are not my favorite. There's more than enough feed below. However, tonight's Masquerade will be the perfect time to handle your problem.” He stood.
"It's time you lived up to our bargain. I am getting impatient.” Mestiphles turned back to the darkness from whence he came.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 26
Jean woke an hour before sunset. His dark room was lit only by the fading rays of the sun, and the radio clicked on with the sunset.
"—and for all you CCR spellbound fans,” the DJ ad-libbed, “here's I Put a Spell on You."
Jean tried to calm his mind, but the mumbles in his head never went away. He did his slow yoga movements. He used to enjoy martial arts and such, but the Asian calming techniques no longer helped him.
I hate this song!
He felt a presence and opened his door before the person had time to knock. Elizabeth stood before him.
"We haven't much time.” She hurried in and checked every dark corner and cranny in the room.
"Is something wrong?” Jean stood in the open door.
Elizabeth looked at him. “I know what you—” Quickly she shut the open door. “I know about your plan."
Jean gave her a blank stare.
"Don't play dumb. You and Samantha plan to destroy us. The Death Game has been declared."
Has she come to destroy me?
"Please, mask your thoughts the best you can,” she advised. “We must leave now."
"What are you talking about? I don't know much about your Games and Masquerades, but I can't leave unsupervised until I'm five. I know that."
"Damn the rules!” Elizabeth flung his clothes out of the closet and onto the bed. “Don't you see? You are in danger here.” She pulled his suitcase out of the closet. “Every vampire in this coven is out to get you!"
* * * *
James stood in battle stance and waited for Samantha to get up from her latest hurdle to the floor. She stood and readied herself. Her stance was a more relaxed, fence-like style.
"Fencing class can't help you here.” James struck, and Samantha defended. “I go, you go. The Death Game ends painlessly."
"What about Jean?"
"Mother will get him out, I'm sure. Now, put me out of my misery."
He lunged again, but stumbled. Samantha stepped aside and instinctively drove her sword into his back. James howled in pain and fell to the floor. Samantha withdrew her sword and flung it away. Both swords clattered on the wood as blood poured out of James.
"I cannot do it, James.” She trembled. “I can't kill you. Even if I could, I won't. After all these years, why here? Why now?"
"The opportunity presents itself.” James looked up at her. “Let me apologize. Please, Samantha. Give me an honorable death."
"I can't, James.” Blood tears streamed down her face.
"Your kindness is a fault.” James leaned on his sword and staggered to his feet.
He turned the handle to Samantha. She slowly brought her hand up to clasp the sword. Samantha's fingertips touched the engraved metal, but it lurched away. James plunged the sword into his own abdomen.
"James!"
"I've always wanted to do that.” He coughed and fell on his sister. “Decapitation and fire. Samantha, make sure I don't come back."
"Oh, James.” Samantha nodded her head yes. He looked down at his wound.
"Suicide. Oh well.” He laughed. “I wasn't going to Heaven anyway."
He fell to the floor, and James closed his eyes for the final time.
"If only things had been different."
Samantha wept as she set about following his last wish.
* * * *
Victoria put the needle down on her bedside record player, and The Eagles’ label spun. Drums started off the song, and Victoria strutted across the room to her closet. She slipped a dress over her head and past her black bra, hips and matching black panties. Victoria sang over to the mirror.
She lined her lips in deep red lipstick and ran her fingers through her hair. She put on her thigh-high hose one at a time, then slid into her tall shoes. She danced, the drums rocked, and the song came to a close. The music died out, and Victoria screeched. Horrible pain rang in her chest, and she fell to her knees.
"James! What is happening?"
Why does my stomach hurt? Pain in my back! What is happening to me?
"James, what's going on?” She spoke out loud to her internal connection.
James!
Victoria brought herself to her feet, but she clung to her stomach.
Sword!
"James, keep fighting,” Victoria ordered her empty room. She saw Samantha's hand reach for the hilt, and she watched the sword go into James. Victoria reeled over in pain.
"James! What are you doing?"
I know you can hear me. James, don't do this!
"What?” Victoria listened to the words come out of James’ mouth.
Suicide? Why? Who cares about Heaven!
"Make sure I don't come back."
"No!"
No! This is a trick. James is still ali
ve. He is!
"James would not kill himself.” She frowned. “Would he?"
"No.” Victoria lay down on the bed. “James will be back."
She passed out on the bed, but the DJ's music blared below. The Masquerade had begun.
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Chapter 27
The rusty gate stood open, and the sun dipped below the horizon. McLean's classic American Pie bellowed out from the house, and more cars lined up outside the gate. Trucks emptied flatbeds full of punks, druggies, and other alley junkies. The always cheerful Angelo stood at the gate and welcomed the lost souls dressed in neon and other funky costumes.
The mansion's ballroom was fitted for the occasion. A buffet was against the wall, and another table was set up for the DJ. People buzzed around the buffet, and more filed through the large double doors entering to the foyer. More guests waited outside, and couples christened the dance floor.
Ever watchful, Slava stood by the ballroom doors with Catrina and Eddie. Other vampires mingled with the humans entering the ballroom. Jessica and Pamela—quite the buxom pair—were at the DJ table. Catrina took up with a man covered in gold jewelry, but old-time Sarah swayed alone. Antonio came down the stairs wearing his usual simple, classic, black suit.
A few guests looked at him and parted as he passed through them. He nodded and spoke briefly to some. Antonio dismissed Slava, and the Russian henchman circulated into the crowd.
"Where is Victoria?” Antonio questioned Eddie. The younger fledglings feared him, Antonio knew, and he used it to his advantage. He looked above the greaser to his ceremonial ax mounted on the wall. His collection of weapons had grown over the years, and his favorites decorated the ballroom. Youth hadn't always been so easy.
"Couldn't tell you.” Eddie chewed on a toothpick. “Samantha and James aren't here, either. Stephen is here somewhere, but Ann and Elizabeth are over there."
Antonio looked toward the DJ's table. Ann and Elizabeth had a record in their hands. The hairy DJ screamed, and Jessica and Pamela tried to calm him.
"I want him to play it!” Elizabeth tugged the record in her direction.
"You only want it played because I wanted to hear it first.” Ann pulled the record toward herself. “You don't even like the song!"
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