by Max Turner
“I don’t want to be revered. I want my friends back.”
I glanced around the room. Vincent lay near the far wall. He was a boy again. His torso and inner arms were charred black. So was the skin on half of his face. Charlie’s body was twitching on the ground, healing. Beyond it was Luna, her face grey, her features rigid with pain.
He’d killed Luna … My hands shook. A tremendous power was at work in my body, and it raged. Steam rose from my skin. I understood at that moment what people meant when they said their blood was boiling. Mine was threatening to ignite. Waves of heat rose from my arms. I grabbed Baoh by the throat again and forced him back to his knees.
“I should kill you for what you’ve done.”
He put his hands on my wrist. My grip must have been too tight because he couldn’t speak. I loosened it but did not let go. He started wheezing. After a few difficult breaths, he spoke.
“So we are finally at the last stage of your development. Are you prepared to make the hard decisions? Who lives? Who dies?”
“Who lives? Who dies? No person should get to decide that. Not you. Not me. Not Vlad. Not anyone.”
Charlie sat up. Mr. Entwistle’s eyes bounced from my face to my fists, then to the tiny flames that had appeared on my wrists and hands. Others flared and disappeared along my arms and shoulders. Baoh turned his face to avoid being burned.
“If I killed you right now,” I said, “how many vampires would line up to dance on your grave?”
“I would,” Charlie whispered hoarsely. “Do it!”
“Not yet,” I said, pointing towards Luna’s corpse. “Not until you bring her back.”
Baoh’s hands were still on my wrist, trying to relieve the pressure of my hand on his throat. I gave him just enough room to breathe. “Do you think my venom can be neutralized by some potion you synthesize in a lab?” he asked. “It cannot be done. I was not lying when I told Vlad that there was no antidote for the Changeling.”
“What about Vincent?” John asked. “Vlad’s antidote worked for him.”
“No,” Baoh said. “That abomination is a lycanthrope. His blood is not the same as ours. His immunity is his own.”
His words confirmed my worst fears—that Luna was gone forever. My arms caught fire, then my chest and shoulders. For a fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope appeared deep within Baoh’s milky eyes. Was this what he wanted, for me to lose control and self-immolate? It was a terrible energy drain. If I burned all the fuel in my tank and he survived, would it put us back on an equal footing? I took a deep breath, then another, the tunnel of light firmly entrenched in my mind’s eye. Slowly, the flames turned from orange to red to deep blue, then faded completely.
“There is a way,” I said. “There is always a way. You’re going to find it, and you’re going to bring her back for me. Then you’re going to find each and every survivor of this war, every man, woman and child you wronged, and you’re going to earn their forgiveness.”
I pushed him towards Luna’s body. He stumbled to a knee, then rose awkwardly and rubbed at his throat.
“Noble words,” he said. “But I am afraid you are mistaken. I do not seek forgiveness, yours or anyone’s, and I have done enough for you already.”
“He’s stalling,” Charlie said. “You need to finish this.”
Baoh cringed. “I have controlled this outbreak,” he said hastily. “And I have destroyed those who would be your enemies, including Vlad and all his generals. Feats accomplished while you trained, or slept in death, or in undeath. Is there any blood on your hands? Little. It is mine that are stained. Genius, is it not, to become the villain whose defeat legitimizes your rule? And all the while, preaching your virtues as the Baptist. Do you think others, like Min and Hassan, would have accepted you without it?”
I wasn’t buying it. “There were other reasons the Baptist did his preaching. You told me so yourself. To lure people out of hiding.”
“True. But in time, you will come to understand how necessary that was. Too many were infected. Too many.”
He sensed my anger rising again, and his hands rose, as if imploring me to listen. “When we first met on the Dream Road, did I not tell you that I was a media man? That I give the people what they want? They want heroes. People larger than life. So I have given them you. Child of prophecy. Messiah. The orphan who bested the Changeling and will remake the world. You will bring hope to the survivors, those who would dance on my grave, as you so kindly put it. Let them dance. I care not. What matters is that the vampire population is stable once again, and all the power-mongering vampires who would turn the world upside down to gain your throne have been destroyed. You should be thanking me. History will credit you for this accomplishment.”
“Thank you? For killing Luna? For killing Ophelia? For all the innocent lives you’ve ruined?”
“The blow that killed Ophelia was intended for Vlad. But it is done, and perhaps it is for the best. Did you not just say yourself that there is no antidote for justice? Ophelia broke the law. Or should I say, she broke herself against it. The punishment for her crimes is death. It is unfortunate, but I did my best to make amends. Did I not reunite you with John, so that, in her place, you would have someone of experience to guide you?
“And Luna was an accident. But if you had listened to me in Montreal, and put Charlie and her into a state of undeath, none of this would have happened! You made the decision to keep them alive—”
“So you’re saying this is my fault?”
Baoh rolled his shoulders back and stood a bit straighter. A measure of confidence was returning to his tone and the cadence of his words. “Luna should never have been infected in the first place. You know this. Charlie and you are now all that remain of your line. Two generations. Lawful by the ancient canons. This is important. You cannot enforce laws as the next Grand Master if you don’t obey them yourself.”
“There isn’t going to be another Grand Master.”
“So you say. But if you look at any organization, you will always find one person at the top. Just one. The emperor, the king, the czar, the president, the chairman, the prime minister, the pope. Whether you choose to call yourself the Grand Master or something else, people will look to you for leadership. This is my doing.”
“You really expect me to believe that you arranged this from the start?”
“Your belief or disbelief does not concern me. And if you must know, the person I wanted in charge was your father. But Vlad killed him, and so I tried my best to help you become the man you are. And you are as perfect for this role as I could make you. That is why you are going to take charge and form a new government, and it is why you’re going to let me live.”
“Because I owe you?”
“In part, but also because a time will come when you will lose your mind, as all vampires do. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I have seen it time and again. It is why Baoh does not choose to be at the helm. Rather, he seeks the best helmsman. You are my choice. But even you will fall from grace, Zachary. Who will step in to provide a remedy when that happens? It will fall to me, as it always has. A person outside the system. One who cannot be the Grand Master himself, not permanently, because he must sleep for years at a time, and so can’t oversee the night-to-night management of our species.”
Charlie bent and picked up his knife, which was lying on the floor near Luna’s corpse. “Zack, you can’t let him walk out of here.”
John moved closer. His eyes fell in shadow. For just an instant, he looked like Death again. “No one’s going anywhere.”
Baoh shrank from him. “Endpoint Psychosis awaits us all. When Zachariah begins to go mad, will you kill him, Charles? Will you, John? Even if you saw the need and had the resolve, would you be powerful enough to do it? I think not. Zachary has the blood of an ancient in his system and is more than a match for anyone alive in the world. He must pass only this final test. Can he place reason and logic above personal revenge? Will he let me go, or b
egin a descent into self-serving depravity?”
“So this is what you do?” I asked. “You play God, like a demented puppet master pulling our strings.”
“It is what needs to be done. And yes, it is I who do it. Centuries ago I managed to get Ophelia and Vlad in power without my interference being discovered. I was behind your father’s rise to fame. None were aware of it. This time, I was not so lucky. My role is now revealed. It does not make it any less important. And I cannot fulfill it if I am dead.”
Charlie looked at me, then at Baoh. “You slimy weasel,” he muttered. “I ought to fill you full of holes.”
“Easy, Charlie,” I said.
He scowled, then pointed his knife at me. “You’re dithering again.”
“Not at all,” I said, snatching the blade away from him. “I just don’t think one person should get to decide who lives and who dies.”
Baoh’s face took on a smug expression. Then he gasped when I rammed the knife into his chest. The tip of the blade sliced straight through his heart. His eyes opened wide and blood pooled in his mouth. He gargled something incoherent and tried to free the blade from between his ribs, but I kept my hands firmly on the grip.
“Questions of life and death should be decided by juries,” I said. “I will make certain that no one person ever has that authority again. But the question of who gets to be undead is one I’m very comfortable answering at the moment, and since you won’t repent, Baoh, you’re going to be sleeping in undeath for a very, very long time.”
CHAPTER 65
TWO WEEKS LATER
I EMERGED FROM the Shadow Road in the old lab of Castle Dracula. The mood was sombre. The New Order had disposed of the corpses Vlad had been trying to save, but they’d been replaced by others. Istvan was one of them. I’d found him grey and lifeless on the Shadow Road. It surprised me how disappointed I was about this, not only because of the questions I would have asked about his role in this story, questions that now could never be answered, but because, deep down, I believed he had a kind soul and that I would have benefited from his friendship. His betrayal at Castle Dracula, which had me both incensed and confused weeks ago, now seemed hardly a betrayal at all, given what I knew about the Changeling and his goals. Istvan had said back in Montreal that we were often treated better by our enemies than by our friends. Had he lived, we would have had much to discuss about this, and many other things besides.
The photon torpedo rested beside him. Baoh’s body was locked inside, sleeping indefinitely in undeath. Vlad was there, too. The Prince. My progenitor. I stood in front of his coffin, wondering.
“Still trying to figure him out?” Mr. Entwistle asked. He was hovering over a rack of test tubes behind me.
“I guess so. I just … I still have no idea what to make of him.”
“What do you mean?”
“All that stuff about burying me alive so he could find out who the Changeling was. And before that, claiming he had no part in giving me up after Ophelia’s trial. And saying he cared about me. Was any of it true?”
John chuckled. “Does it matter?”
I turned away from Vlad’s corpse. “Doesn’t the truth always matter?”
John looked pensive for a moment. “That’s not what I was getting at. You need to make sense of this. I understand. But there are certain things you can never be sure about. You need to come to terms with that, because in the end, knowing or not knowing, it changes nothing. Your situation and responsibilities remain what they are. Did Vlad abandon you to the Changeling? So what if he did? He also orchestrated your rescue. Did he lie about his reasons for sticking you in that hole? Again, so what? He kept your friends alive. Isn’t that adequate compensation?”
It was. But I still wanted clarity.
“You want to know if you were right not to trust him?”
I hummed a yes.
“You know how I feel about trust. We talked about it last summer.”
I did. He’d told Charlie and me we’d be better off focusing on what a person wanted and how they planned to get it. Then we could decide whether to help them or stop them, according to our conscience.
“Do you know what Vlad wanted?” he asked.
“Power,” I said.
John didn’t look convinced. “What man ever wants just one thing? We all want control over our lives. But what about love? Comradeship? Respect? Forgiveness? Understanding? A family? Perhaps a son? Someone to shape in his own image.” He paused, watching me closely. “In what measure did he want these things, too? Do you have any idea?”
“No.” I looked down at the floor. “I never bothered to find out.”
“And that was a mistake. Learn from it. And don’t be too hard on yourself. Vlad wasn’t exactly the sharing type, and you had a lot on your plate. You still do.”
I turned back to the corpses. Beside Vlad was Luna. I didn’t have the strength to look at her face. My eyes fell instead to the half-moon necklace hanging from her neck. Vlad had taken it from her, but it was where it belonged now. I took the gold charm in my fingers. It was cold. I let it drop and turned away.
“Any luck?” Mr. Entwistle asked me.
“No.”
I plopped myself onto a stool. I had been searching all of Vlad’s old haunts for Ophelia’s body. He had hidden it, and no one knew where. If I didn’t find it soon, it would be too corrupted to save, even if we found an antidote.
“What about you?” I asked. “Any closer?”
“No. It seems Baoh was honest about one thing, at least—Vincent’s immunity was his own. His blood is different, and it’s a toxic stew. The parts that are most useful for combatting the venom are fatal to us.”
Vlad’s corpse stared at me from across the room. I heard his voice in my mind. There is always a way … I was beginning to doubt that.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about it. And I didn’t want people telling me everything would be fine. Or that Luna and Ophelia had gone to a better place. What I wanted was to stay busy. There was no other way to avoid falling apart.
I heard footfalls in the room outside the lab. The secret door opened and Charlie stepped in. He had his cellphone open and was furiously tapping buttons with his thumbs. “You find her?”
“No.”
His tired eyes wandered over all of the chemistry equipment, then settled on Mr. Entwistle. “Tell me you’ve got some good news, at least.”
The old vampire shook his head. “Not on the antidote front. But we mustn’t surrender to despair. We’re privileged. It would serve us well to be mindful of that.” He started clearing dead rats from the counter. None had survived the experiments. “We get to remake the world. Think on that. No more Coven. No New Order. No entrenched institutions to try to change. We get to build a society from the ground up. From scratch.”
Charlie pulled out a stool and sat down. “Yeah … Well, privileged we may be. But world building is going to have to wait.” He started reading from his cell. “Min checked in earlier. There’s trouble in Paris. A vampire has been killed in the crypts below the city. Territorial feud most likely. We’re needed there right away. A blood shipment to Amsterdam has disappeared and a few women have gone missing. They’ve gotta be connected. A kid got spotted in Shanghai. Nine or ten years old. Could be a vampire, could be a lycanthrope. We’ll need to find him and figure something out. He’s the first infected child we’ve had to deal with, so we’ve got to watch our step. Whatever we decide, there’s bound to be some grumbling.”
“We’ll bring him back here,” I said. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. Somebody who calls himself the Pastor is demanding your execution. He says you’re an abomination and a heretic. The bounty is a billion US dollars.”
“Is that all I’m worth? It used to be ten billion.”
Charlie slipped his phone into the utility belt circling his armour. “It’s enough to get people’s attention. We were going to draw str
aws to see who gets to collect.”
“Very funny,” I said. “But I guess you’d better call a meeting. Can you send word to Hassan that he’s needed here?”
Charlie threw up his hands. It lacked the energy of a typical outburst. “It’s almost sunrise!”
“We’re two hundred feet underground, Charlie. I’m sure we’ll be safe.”
“I need my beauty rest.”
“No one’s arguing with that,” Mr. Entwistle said. “I feel tired just looking at you boys.”
“We’ll live,” Charlie and I said together.
Mr. Entwistle reached for his top hat and slapped it on his head. “I think a meeting can wait until tomorrow night.”
“Exactly,” said Charlie. “We can tackle this later.”
“Aren’t you the guy who wanted me to be more assertive?” I asked. “Now is later. You know the rules. Good news we get to sleep on, bad news we have to act on.”
Charlie’s eyes were at half-mast. “You ought to respect your elders more. You’re becoming a tyrant.”
“Take it up with the vampire union. We have work to do.”
He rose from his seat. “No rest for the weary.”
“It’s no rest for the wicked,” Mr. Entwistle said.
Charlie sighed. “Not with Zack in charge.”
CHAPTER 66
IMMUNITY
MR. ENTWISTLE GRABBED his overcoat and headed for the modern lab next door. “You two get some rest. I’ll consult the others. We can see what they recommend, then decide on the best course of action.”
Charlie listened until his footsteps faded through the next room. He yawned and sat back down. “You okay?”
“I hate that question.”
“Yeah. So do I. Not sure why I asked it.” He glanced at the corpses. For a spell neither of us spoke. In the silence, a deep fatigue took hold.
“Can you believe it?” he asked. “All that stuff the Changeling said about wanting you in charge?”
I didn’t know what to make of it. Just like Vlad’s explanations, it seemed there were reasons to believe and disbelieve all of it. “I wonder if he would have said something similar to Vlad or Istvan, if they’d been the last ones standing.”