The Vampire's Betrayal (3 page)

There was a reason those demons hadn’t followed me in this direction. It wasn’t safe for them here.

Not safe for
us,
that is.

 

Three

William

I entered Werm’s drinking establishment in the wee hours of the morning, as he and his employees were preparing to close for the night. I was surprised to see that his staff consisted almost solely of Eleanor’s prostitutes, or perhaps I should say former prostitutes, since they now all seemed to be cocktail waitresses. But I was even more surprised to see my old friend Seth Walker washing glasses behind the bar.

The young ladies greeted me warmly and inquired after their former madam. Out of necessity, none of them had been told why Eleanor had left town. In fact, before my own departure to rescue Renee, I had lied and told them that she had gone on a European vacation. My evil sire, Reedrek, had just burned down the residence of Eleanor and her “ladies” in Savannah, which doubled as their place of business, so it was only natural that she would want to get away for a while. I’d put Jack in charge of the young whores, who’d lost not only their homes but their livelihoods. It was clever of him to have found them legitimate work. Except for a few misunderstandings, Jack never let me down.

As I was preparing for my journey, I noticed that Ginger had now assumed a leadership position. She stepped forward and asked, “Where is Eleanor? You brought her back with you, didn’t you?”

A fresh pang of anguish made me wince. I’d known the moment was coming in which I must tell them their mentor wasn’t returning. But now was not that time. “She stayed behind,” I said. “I’ll tell you more about it later.”

Werm came over to greet me and dismissed the girls for the night. I was thankful when they said their good-byes and departed.

“William! Did you get Renee back?” Werm asked excitedly.

“Yes,” I said, and submitted to an eager hug from the fledgling vampire.

“Thank goodness. Melaphia must feel like a new woman. Hey, how do you like my place?” He made a grand, sweeping gesture with his hand—as grand as one of his stature could, I supposed. Werm was a slightly built youngster of twenty or so years with hair dyed black in classic goth style. His pale flesh was so riddled with piercings that he jingled when he walked, and he always decked himself out in black leather from head to toe.

Werm was the only human in recent memory to discover that vampires were real. He had pestered Jack to make him a blood drinker, but Jack refused. Then Reedrek came to town and forced me to do the job, despite the fact that Werm seemed a miserable candidate. Recently Jack had come to the conclusion that Werm might become a respectable vampire after all. I was still reserving judgment.

I looked around at the gaudy wallpaper, tacky color scheme, and other unusual aspects of the decor. “It’s very distinctive,” I told him. “I congratulate you.”

By that time, Seth had come over to shake hands. “It’s good to see you,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed it has. I trust things are well in your…community.” Seth came into town on vacation at least once a year for hunting—and drinking—excursions with Jack. Other than that, he came on business. Either law enforcement business—he was the police chief of a small town in north Georgia—or werewolf business. Seth was also a werewolf.

Seth and I had similar philosophies about our species, and we helped each other to keep them in force. I felt that vampires should keep our problems within our own ranks. Seth felt the same about werewolf business. Jack and I kept the vampires in these parts under control, dealing out vigilante justice to those blood drinkers who would bring trouble to our community.
Trouble
being any kind of criminal misbehavior that might attract the attention of the human world, particularly law enforcement. Seth performed the same function among the shape shifter population.

“Things are fine now,” he said. “We had a little trouble on the furry side of town while you were gone, but Jack—and Werm here—helped me handle it.” He clapped Werm on the back, causing the little fellow to wince, but with a grin. “I still have some local pack business to take care of, so I’m in town for a while longer. My assistant chief is handling things back home while I’m gone, and he’s an experienced guy, so I’m in no hurry to get back. I thought I’d help Werm with the bartending while I’m not knocking heads together down at pack headquarters.”

I was glad that Seth was in Savannah. Not that he could do anything to help rescue Jack, but having allies close by never hurt. Besides that, I felt Werm needed all the positive male role models he could get. Seth was a big man—as tall as I and as darkly handsome and burly as Jack. He moved as easily in Savannah society as he did roaming the territory of his own kind in wolf form.

“Hey, William, where is Jack? I haven’t seen him all night, and the last time I talked to him he said he was coming by. They haven’t seen him at the garage either.”

I’d forgotten all about Jack’s garage, the all-night auto repair business he owned. I’d have to call his partner Rennie and make up some excuse for Jack’s absence. “That’s why I came. Jack’s in trouble. Werm, I need you to work with Melaphia and me to help him.”

Seth looked concerned. He and Jack had gotten along famously since the first time Seth had come to town years ago to assist us with some shape shifter trouble. I would go so far as to call them kindred spirits.

“Is there anything I can do?” Seth asked.

I shook my head and explained briefly where Jack was, why he had gone there, and the plan to get him back. As a fledgling, Werm had no knowledge of the underworld. His eyes became wide and frightened when I described my recent foray there and the dangers Jack faced.

“Wait here,” Werm said. “I’m going to the cellar and get the sacrificial stuff I use when I do my own voodoo rituals.”

“Hurry,” I called after him. “It’s almost daylight.” Werm waved his understanding over his shoulder and scurried toward the cellar door.

“Oh my God,” Seth said gravely. “Him and Connie both. I don’t know any voodoo, so I can’t help you with the religious stuff. Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do?”

“I don’t believe so. Perhaps you can run this place for Werm tomorrow night if he’s still working with us by that time. Meanwhile, if I can think of anything else you can help with, I’ll send for you.”

Seth nodded and ran a hand through his short dark hair. “I was afraid something like this was going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the one who told Jack about Connie’s past. The murder-suicide she witnessed. I imagine he confronted her about it.”

“How did you know?”

“Connie and I dated when she lived in Atlanta,” Seth admitted.

Something told me I had missed much more than werewolf trouble while I was away. With Jack’s intense feelings for Connie, I was loathe to think of his reaction when he found out one of his best friends had dated her. Jack is rather emotional, in a southern male way. For example, any mention of a late motor sportsman—Dale Earnhardt, I believe was his name—could make Jack stop whatever he was doing for a moment of silent reflection.

“It doesn’t matter,” I explained. “Connie evidently demanded that he lead her to the underworld to see her son. When he refused, she took her case to Melaphia. That still would have happened whether you gave him advance warning or not.”

“I guess you’re right,” Seth muttered, and looked at the floor.

“Is there something else?”

“Yes. But I’m not sure it’s related to this thing with Jack and Connie in the underworld.”

“What is it?”

“It’s only a feeling, really. I’m sensing that something is on its way. An event of some kind. Damn, this is hard to explain. It’s a shape shifter thing, you know?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Shape shifters have their own unique gifts, including the ability to draw on collective animal memories and instincts. Any feeling of unease on the part of a shape shifter should always be taken seriously. Especially if it was felt by more than one. I made a mental note to consult some of the other shape shifters of my acquaintance, that is, when the current trouble was behind me. “This event that you anticipate—I take it that danger is involved?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“To us or to the human population?”

“Both.”

“It sounds serious. When we have this crisis with Jack under control, perhaps Melaphia with her magic can help us explore this further. Until then, continue to keep your consciousness open to any intuitions of approaching trouble you may have. We’ll talk about it again as soon as possible.”

Seth nodded. Werm appeared with a plastic bag stamped
WAL-MART. ALWAYS LOW PRICES. ALWAYS.
This was the store Jack favored because it was open by night.

“I’m ready,” Werm said. “I’ve got the special herbs.”

“I’ll bet you have,” Seth said, narrowing his gold-green eyes. It was Seth the law enforcement officer speaking, not Seth the werewolf.

Werm shrugged. “For sacrificial purposes only,” he said, following me out the door. As we climbed into my vehicle, Werm said, “I want to own a Jag someday.”

“You’re a man of taste,” I said, noticing the new piercing in his lower lip. “Good luck with that acquisition.”

Werm must have detected a note of sarcasm in my voice. “I’ll have the money someday, you’ll see. I think the bar is going to be very successful. I’m positioning it in the marketplace very carefully.”

“Do tell.”

“I see it as a hangout for the goth crowd, of course, but not just them. I think it could become a meeting place for people like us, nonhumans of all kinds.”

“That could be a volatile mixture,” I warned.

“Jack has explained to you, has he not, that vampires don’t always mix well with shape shifters and other nonhuman entities?”

“But Jack’s got lots of shifter friends,” Werm insisted. “Like Seth and Jerry.”

“Those friendships are the exception. Jack makes friends with everyone. It’s one of his gifts. And the concept of bringing vampires together with goths, so many of whom are vampire…how is it you and Jack put it? Wannabes? That could prove disastrous. Look at your situation. You’re a case in point.”

Werm looked hurt. “Are you saying I’m a disaster as a vampire?”

“No. I’m concerned that more intelligent young people like yourself, with open minds, shall we say, will figure out that the nonhuman world really exists. That, as you have been warned many times, could be a recipe for catastrophe.”

“I promise that I’ll keep a close eye on things. I think I’ll be able to tell if someone starts to get ideas. I’ll be behind the bar most of the time, and you know how people love to gossip to bartenders. If somebody starts asking the wrong kinds of questions, I can warn you and Jack. I’ll have my ear to the ground for all kinds of information. If there’s any buzz in the nonhuman community, I’ll be the first to know.”

I considered this. There was something to be said for good informants. I maintained several in the city’s various walks of life, from society matrons to the lowest criminal element. “All right then,” I said. “I won’t give you grief if you promise to come to me with any information, no matter how small, that might be of significance. Not many vampires unknown to me come through Savannah, but extra eyes and ears can never hurt.”

Werm snapped his fingers, which must have been difficult as laden as they were with silver rings shaped like skulls and dragons. I occasionally suspected that the motive behind Werm’s adornments was the same as his motive for wanting to be a vampire. He feared the world at large so much that he wished it to fear him back.

“I nearly forgot to tell you,” he said. “There’s a new vampire in town right now. He came into the bar earlier tonight.”

I was tempted to box his ears. Werm was under strict orders to alert Jack or me to any blood drinker he encountered who he had reason to believe was unknown to us. “Oh?” I said calmly. “Who is he then?”

“His name is Freddy Blackstone, and he says he’s a friend of Tobey’s. He said to tell you that specifically, because Tobey told him how wary you are of strange vampires in Savannah.”

Tobey was an indigenous North American vampire, descended from an ancient clan out west. He was made in the heyday of the transcontinental railroad. “And how did he know how to find you?”

“He didn’t know anything about me before he wandered into the bar. When he sensed I was a vampire he introduced himself. He figured I must know you since Tobey told him there are so few vampires in Savannah. When I told him you were my sire, he said you could talk to Tobey and check him out if you wanted.”

“I’ll do that,” I assured him.

By that time we’d arrived back at the house. When he opened the car door, I laid a hand on his arm.

“There’s something you should know. Eleanor is dead.”

Werm went even paler than usual. “I’m…I’m sorry.” He opened his mouth and I sensed he was about to ask what happened but thought better of it. He was not completely insensitive to his psychic bond to me, after all.

“Most members of my household do not know as of yet. Keep it that way until you hear otherwise.”

“I will. I promise.”

“All right. Let us hurry. The sun is almost up.”

We entered the house to utter silence. Renee would be in bed, and my companions Deylaud and Reyha, the mystical Egyptian sighthounds who guard my rest in the daylight hours and take human form at night, would be wherever they went when they made their change at sunup.

I took the steps to the basement two at a time with Werm on my heels. When we reached the vault, he pulled up short in horror to see the bodies of Jack and Connie prostrate on the floor.

“Courage, young one,” I said. “Keep your wits about you for their sake.” Werm nodded solemnly and backed into the corner of the room, clutching his plastic bag of sacrificial items and awaiting instructions.

Melaphia was at my desk, carefully turning the pages of an ancient book while wearing a pair of white cotton gloves. She didn’t look up when Werm and I entered. But then she said simply, “I need more time. I haven’t seen any information on…what you wanted to know.”

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