“Father!” little Ptolemy cried, preparing to run and embrace Antony. Cleopatra jumped for him, pulling him back and knocking Isis from her lap. “But mother, father is here,” the child protested.
“Get behind me, all of you. Don’t you see that your father stands with our enemies?” She looked at Antony with a hatred so strong that it matched no other adversary he’d faced in battle. “You betray us, and humanity, for false immortality and immorality? The order will hunt you down, the filth that you are, and cleanse you from the earth!”
Claudius took charge of the room, ordering the clan of vampires, “Go open the lighthouse door for Octavian and his men.”
Antony wanted to hold the children but they huddled together behind Cleopatra. “I did this so they might live,” he said, looking into her hate-filled eyes. “They will be safe. What would you have done?”
“You had a choice,” she said firmly, “you made the wrong one.”
The sounds of battle rang up from the staircase of the lighthouse. Cleopatra’s army had been stationed in the lower levels, guarding the royal family and the treasure that was contained on every level of the structure, a bounty that would now belong to Rome.
Octavian, Agrippa, and the clan of vampires entered the room, expecting a continuing battle, and found only children, the queen, two handmaidens, and a dying Strabo. Agrippa placed his sword back in it sheath.
“It’s over, then. Let’s have the men start moving the treasure to our ships,” Octavian said.
Agrippa, making a small offering to the queen said, “I can accompany the children back to the ship. I promise you they won’t be harmed.”
Realizing her doom, she told him, “Yes, thank you.” She turned to the children and hugged them tightly. She picked up little Isis and placed the cat in Cleopatra Selene’s arms. “Take care of her now,” she told the child. “I want you all to be brave. You must leave now. I can’t go with you but know that I love you and will be watching over you. When our hearts are judged by the goddess of truth, Ma’at will find us pure and we will be together again.”
“No, mother. I won’t go,” Alexander cried. “I will stay with you.” He clung to Cleopatra. Little Ptolemy wrapped his arms around her and Alexander. Cleopatra Selene seemed in shock, hugging the cat, in silence.
“May my handmaidens take them?” she asked of Octavian. Before he could reply, Claudius spat out, “No! They stay with us.” The vampire clan looked at them with ill intent and began to encircle Iras and Charmion.
Octavian didn’t want to witness what was to occur. “Come children. You will see the glory of Rome. My sister Octavia is very fond of little ones and she will care for you.”
Agrippa picked up little Ptolemy and carried him out of the room. Octavian, showing a remnant of humanity and compassion in victory, gently grabbed Alexander’s hand and, putting an arm around Cleopatra Selene, led them from the evil disaster that had befallen the queen. “Go, children, go,” Cleopatra said in her lovely voice, encouraging them to keep moving.
Antony had stood there, frozen and ashamed, unable to bid his children goodbye. “It’s time, Antony,” Claudius said, with impatience when the children were gone.
Antony turned on him, fangs showing. “I won’t betray her--I will betray you,” he vowed. “You were foolish enough to give me vampire strength. I will defend her to my death!”
The vampires all began to laugh, uproariously. “What’s the meaning of this?” Antony inquired.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Claudius said, laughing. “My blood courses through your veins. I made you a vampire and you desired it. You will be compelled to do whatever I tell you for the rest of your vampire life. Here’s your order for this night--kill Cleopatra now Antony.”
Strabo managed to reach his bow and struggled to get a silver-tipped arrow from the quiver. Two vampires were instantly on him, draining his blood. Claudius jumped across the room, knocking Iras to the marble floor and biting her callously in the neck. Poor Charmion was beset on by the remaining clan members and horribly ravaged, her blood flowing over a mosaic on the floor that pictured ships at sea, drowning the image in viscous red.
Antony slowly approached Cleopatra. “I can’t help myself. Please, forgive me,” he said.
Holding her head up high, fighting back tears she did not want him to view, she removed the amulet he’d given her so long ago and flung it at him. “You would have my neck with your gift upon it? Take it back!”
Compelled to kill this woman he loved above all others, the queen who had fought to rid the world of vampires, he grabbed her harshly, turning her head to the side to get a better grip on her neck. He bit deeply and wept as he drained her of blood, clutching the amulet she’d thrown at him. Cleopatra faintly whispered her last words, “You’re no Caesar…you never were.”
Chapter 12: Road Trip to Hell
He looked at me intensely with those brooding brown eyes. There was no twinkle of warmth in them anymore as there was when he spoke of his early days with Cleopatra, and he announced, “So, now you know. Tell the hunters to leave Las Vegas or they all die, including you. If I killed Cleopatra, the woman I adored above all others, what do you think would happen to you?”
“You’re a vicious piece of shit,” I spluttered as the reality of this disastrous evening hit me hard, directly in the stomach. I barely had time to lift up the toilet seat before the last of the champagne, wine, and pasta hit the water. Falling to my knees, smelling and viewing the foulness that was hurled, I puked again.
Quite defenseless, Mark could have killed me on the spot but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he took a step back—everyone, even vampires, wants to avoid vomit. I needed to rinse my mouth out before leaving or I would surely vomit again. My image in the mirror was startling, to say the least--I never looked so bad. My hair stood straight up in some spots, like shorn pieces of straw. There was lipstick smeared on the side of my mouth and my mascara had sullied, giving me raccoon eyes.
“What happened to the children?” I asked, looking at my own sad, alarming image in the mirror.
“They lived out their lives and died from old age. Little Cleopatra married King Juball of Numidia and became a queen. Alexander and Ptolemy were never allowed to rule but they lived quiet, peaceful, long lives. All of them hated me. All of my children choose to die as humans even though they were offered vampire membership.” He brushed back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “It’s an exclusive club you know, and still they refused.”
“Oh,” I said in my snottiest voice, “they had a choice? And they made the right choice--unlike their piece of shit, phony accent father.”
Dashing looked at his nails as if they were in need of a manicure, and simply said, “It’s hardly a false accent, my dear. I resided in London for three hundred years, and you should be the last one to call anything a sham.”
Quickly splashing water on my face and into my mouth, I grabbed one of his expensive designer towels and wiped off the lipstick and mascara. I threw the towel at him, walked out, and called him an asshole as the door slammed.
Arriving back at the hotel at dawn, I attempted to open our door with the key card. Neglecting my duties was something never done before. I prayed that the Professor and the twins were alright--they could have been attacked in my absence.
The door wouldn’t open. I tried again, still no luck. Trying for five minutes to get in, I finally looked in my hand and noticed the credit card. No, that wouldn’t open the door, so I rummaged through my purse until I found the actual hotel card. That damn thing wouldn’t work either until I turned it, arrows pointing into the slot, and finally walked into the room.
The Professor was sitting on the bed, a twin sleeping in each arm. Our bags were packed, the briefcase next to them, and five shopping bags filled with baby things in a row after that. He looked perturbed.
“I thought perhaps you weren’t coming back,” he said in a mean whisper, tapping his foot on the floor. He began to
sniff the air. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have--you reek from sex and vomit!”
His canine power of smell must have been kicking in or else I really smelled bad. “I’m so sorry, really, really, sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise,” I said, sitting down on the bed next to him. “I’d do anything to make it up to you.”
“Really, anything?” he said, looking at me, still pissed.
“Well, within reason,” I countered.
“We’ll discuss that later,” he said, looking quite uncomfortable, not wanting to move his arms and wake the twins. Holding my arms forward, hoping to take one of the babies so he could make himself more relaxed, I was rebuffed with a shake of his head.
“By the way, your real estate agent called last night. She found a rental house in Henderson, a place called Seven Hills. Call her to arrange a time to meet and pick up the key.”
“That’s great,” I replied. “I’ll call her now and we’ll get going.”
The professor nodded in the direction of the dresser. “Your cell phone’s over there. You can call her now but you better arrange a time after sundown. If we leave right away, baby vampire is going to get incinerated. Or did you forget that simple fact?”
“Look, I said I’m sorry, quit being so disagreeable,” I said, noticing that the children were beginning to stir.
“Just go take a shower! Your stench is making me sick!”
He was beginning to make me angry so the bathroom door was slammed without thinking. The babies began crying but the flowing hot water of the shower drowned out the noise. Mr. Dashing’s cologne still lingered on my body and had to be washed away. The scent of Green Irish Tweed would never delight me again, in fact, it might cause me to throw up.
Having scrubbed my body for a good half hour, I put on the plush terrycloth robe that came with the room and ambled back out to the bed. Harold was feeding human baby while vampire infant hovered slightly over him, delighting in his new-found talent.
“Could you please give him his bottle?” he asked, peering up, distracted.
“Be happy to,” I said, snatching vampire baby from the air. He settled down, cradled in my arms. Feeding an infant a bottle full of blood made my stomach start churning again.
“Listen, Harold, we can’t keep calling them vampire baby and human infant. Let’s give them names.”
“I suppose we’re in for the long haul, so that’s a good idea. What do you have in mind?”
Actually, names were floating in my head during the shower. “I like the name Robin for the girl. Robins are my favorite bird, they’re a sign of renewal and rebirth. When you first see them you know that the long, cold winter is almost over and spring begins.”
“Well, maybe where you’re from, but not in Vegas. You have to go to the mountains to see robins,” he said, then seeing the disappointment in my eyes, he smiled and looked down at the baby. “Okay then, you are a breath of spring, little girl, your name is now Robin.”
Vampire baby had drained his bottle. “Your name should be Alexander,” I said, looking down at him. “Is that okay, Harold?”
“Yes, a name with a great tradition. Alexander the Great, student of Aristotle, undefeated in battle. Good choice.”
“No, I’m naming him after Cleopatra’s son. I like that Alexander the Great was a student of Aristotle but he didn’t learn enough, did he? He was undefeated in battle but he killed entire populations in victory--what a jerk. No, our Alexander has already had a tragic life--like Cleopatra’s son.”
“I didn’t know you were an Egyptian history buff,” Harold said, holding Robin to his chest, patting her gently on the back to make her burp.
“I know a little, but the full scoop was given to me last night by none other than the Mark Antony,” I said, reaching for Alexander who finished his bottle and hovered above me, well out of burping reach.
“Don’t tell me you were with that womanizer Antony! That vampire is an infamous love them and leave them lothario,” Harold exclaimed. “He’s left a trail of broken human and vampire hearts from here to Pahrump. I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Apparently not,” I said, defeated. “I’m surprised you know him.”
“If you would have told me you were going out with him, I could have warned you,” Harold the Professor lectured. “He was one of the vampires who turned Hypatia. Antony gave her the amulet in gratitude for trying to save the library of Alexandria and pursued her relentlessly for eons, even after we were married. She always told him she would be his friend but he could forget about any romantic involvement. I believe she pitied him.”
Suddenly feeling very tired and sick to my stomach again, I asked, “Do you mind if I take a little nap, I’m not feeling well?”
Harold must have forgiven me or felt sorry for me. “Lay down, Nola. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”
Peering occasionally, through a half-closed eye, I saw the Professor fuss over the children, rock them, and feed them. He protectively threw a blanket over me. I had the best sleep in years--it was like having family in the room.
We checked out at sunset. I rented a car so my little family could head towards our new, temporary home. Arriving in Seven Hills was like driving from Vegas to Italy. Located in the foothills of McCullough Mountain range, only twenty minutes from the Strip, the roads wind through tree-lined streets that line gated communities with statues serving sentry--there was a definite Tuscan inspiration. The community was named after the seven hills of ancient Rome.
Coincidentally, Lance had a second home in the hills. More like a mansion really, worth millions even in a bad economy. I’d stayed there a few times while on missions to Vegas. That reminded me that Lance should have been called and filled in about my present predicament and the coming apocalypse.
“Harold, I need to call my boss and tell him about the briefcase. I can’t believe I haven’t even opened it yet. I don’t suppose you know him--Lance from Camelot Farm?”
“Of course I know Lance. Hypatia and I were guests at Camelot many times, it’s surprising that we never met you. However, I didn’t want Lance to know it was me delivering the information about the apocalypse. I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, you can tell him I was the informant and Claudius killed Hypatia,” he said. Pointing at a rotunda entry he yelled, “There, Nola, that’s our address, turn.”
It was probably not wise to tell the real estate agent that price was no object when I asked her to find me a rental. However, she could be trusted, she was an old friend. Michelle waited for us under the glow of a streetlight. Her long black hair flowed in the desert wind and she waved hello as we pulled into the circular driveway.
"Nola, so good to see you. You’re going to love this house,” she said with the authority of an experienced realtor.
We hugged. "So good to see you again, Michelle." She had always been so kind and welcoming to me when we first met at Camelot. A newly arrived and freshly turned werewolf, my arrival at the sanctuary had been frowned upon by most of the residents, adding to my depression. Michelle understood my feelings since her sister, Annie, a rogue vampire, had not been warmly welcomed when Lance saved her and brought her to Camelot.
Annie had been targeted for assassination by Claudius. A showgirl from Vegas, Annie was attacked by a member of the council when she was walking to her car after work. She was one of the lucky few who escaped death by vampire when she bit into her assailant’s hand, drawing blood and escaping. Ingesting even a few drops of vampire blood turned her into a rogue vampire.
The vampire Council is a fussy lot. They're very choosy about who they select to join their ranks. They like to keep their numbers low with a course of action more brutal than China's one child per family policy. Vampires in the world number a few hundred thousand and the elite, ruling class only a few hundred. Those turned vampire accidentally, or not chosen to join them, are marked for death.
You must have connections and be sorely needed by the Council to be awarded immortality. I�
��ve heard that the process includes much pomp and circumstance, with the elite wearing crowns and gaudy red robes and the chosen one drinking vampire blood from a golden chalice.
Vampires who aren't members of the ruling class often want to share immortality with family members. If they dare to turn a loved one into a vampire without the Council's permission, that loved one becomes a rogue vampire, targeted for death. With this knowledge, Lance accepted the assignment from Claudius of hunting down rogue vampires. What Claudius didn't know however, was that Lance often rescued these unwanted vampires, and gave them refuge at Camelot. Annie now lived an unexpected, happy existence at Camelot and Michelle never forgot Lance’s kindness.
Lance always referred Michelle to other vampires looking to buy in Las Vegas. She could be relied on and always made evening appointments. Michelle led us into the expensive rental, and handed me the keys. Turning to introduce her to the professor, she stunned me with a stern shake of her head and said, "No, it's better that I don't know anyone or anything about any of your missions. I’m on my way to meet Annie; she’s stopping in Vegas for a few nights before she returns to Camelot. She just finished with a mission of her own."
I declined her offer of a tour of the house, and Michelle left us alone to our own resources. Hugging goodbye, we vowed to meet again at Camelot and share some wine on her next visit there to see Annie.
She had indeed found the perfect place to hide out. It was the kind of house I dreamed that someday Sean and I would share with our daughter. Of course, on a teacher's salary, we could never have afforded anything so luxurious. It was an open concept house with a huge living room and a fully stocked kitchen. The furnishings were modern and suited my style. I settled into a plush couch, looking out the expansive patio doors to the pool, and realized I'd never be able to relax and spend any time there.
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