Twilight Prophecy

13


“Quickly, now.”

James had maneuvered the yacht as near the rocky cliff face as possible, but he couldn’t get it any closer than twenty-five feet from the shore. The water was too shallow, the rocks too dangerous. Then he’d filled the attached dinghy with every blanket he could find on board and rowed to shore, leaving Lucy aboard the yacht to keep a lookout.

It was still daylight. This was a dangerous mission, moving the undead beneath the blazing sun. But none of them dared wait. If the police arrived…if they found the vampires—or her, Lucy realized—it would be over.

Lucy gave her head a shake in an effort to free it of such dire thoughts and gazed up the shoreline toward the sandy beach beyond. She couldn’t see the smoldering wet remains of Will and Sarafina’s beautiful home from here, and that was just as well.

A few yards away, in the mouth of that hidden passage, James and Will carefully wrapped each of the bodies—and that was what the sleeping vampires were, really. Just bodies. Dead weight. Conscious of utterly nothing. Defenseless. And Lucy couldn’t help but wonder, as she watched the men load the first three mummylike bundles into the dinghy, what the other vampires in the world were doing to stay alive. With humans trying to burn them while they slept, how could they protect themselves by day? Not all of them had a mortal lover like Will, or mixed-blood relations like Brigit and James.

And where the hell was Brigit, anyway?

Lucy lowered her eyes and realized that she was genuinely worried about the hot-tempered but courageous blonde. And about the vampires she hadn’t even met. She was beginning to care about these people. And it surprised her. And yet, at the same time, it didn’t. She’d always been one to root for the underdog; she just never would have imagined she would see a group of powerful immortals with supercharged strength and speed, and enhanced senses and telepathic abilities, as the underdog in a war with humans.

She should have. Humans were by far the most dangerous creatures Planet Earth had ever evolved.

James rowed the dinghy closer to the yacht. It rocked precariously on the waves as he anchored the first bundled body over one shoulder, holding it there as best he could while climbing a rope ladder up to the deck. Lucy leaned over to try to help him, holding the ladder as steady as she could. As he came level with the rail, he eased the body off his back and it fell heavily onto the deck.

Lucy jumped, emitting a squeak of alarm, and quickly bent to tighten a loose fold in the blanket. “Try not to break their skulls,” she told him.

“They can’t feel a thing,” he reminded her.

“But when they wake—”

“The day sleep heals and regenerates. Any injuries they receive by night are completely mended while they rest, so long as they make it past sunrise alive. An injury received during the day sleep would heal instantly. As long as it wasn’t fatal.”

“Like the fire would have been.”

He nodded. “Now you’re getting it.” Then he vanished back down the ladder. Lucy gripped the body and dragged it across the deck to the open hatch that led below, and then down the steps, wincing every time the legs and feet banged a stair, and they banged every one of them, all the way down.

Before long all three women, Rhiannon, Sarafina and Shannon, were loaded onto the yacht and tucked away in the cabins below, where they would be safe. When that was done, James went back for the men, Roland and Gilgamesh, and also Will, who was waiting in the tunnel with them.

In a few minutes Will came up the ladder with one body, James with the other. And then James climbed back down the rope ladder one last time to retrieve a final body. Pandora.

The cat was limp, lifeless, as James laid her body on the deck of the boat.

“Oh, no. Oh, no no no,” Lucy said. She knelt beside the cat, stroking her silken, blue-black fur, but feeling by the coolness of her body that there was no life left in the animal.

Lifting her head, she met James’s eyes. And then suddenly, she realized… “James? Can you…?”

He was kneeling opposite her before she finished the question, placing his palms on the innocent animal, closing his eyes. Lucy sat there, keeping her own hands on the cat, as well, and in a moment she felt James move. He lifted his hands and laid them on top of hers, which still rested on the cat.

“But I—”

“Shh. Just feel.”

She closed her eyes and opened her mind, her heart. And soon it felt as if warm honey were somehow passing from his hands straight through hers and sinking into Pandora. It was an amazing sensation. But that was just the beginning. There was more. She felt as if some kind of soul-sunroof opened in the top of her head, as if there were a light source that was unlike any light she’d ever seen or felt—an energy source, really—and heat, and sizzling crackling electricity and…love. Yes. Love. It moved from wherever such things originated, or from everywhere all at once, into her. And through her into…it. The cosmos. The universe. It was all one thing. All one thing, and she was a part of it, and so was James, and so was Pandora. And the boat, and the ocean, and the planet.

One.

One.

One.

It was the most serene sort of knowingness she had ever felt, or ever even imagined. And then it blinked out, and she was herself again, an individual, and James’s hands were on hers. She opened her eyes, found his locked with them. He leaned a little closer, and so did she and his lips brushed hers very briefly….

And then the cat squirmed out from beneath their joined hands, knocking them apart as she bounded across the deck. Three leaps, then she stopped and turned, staring accusingly at the two of them, ears laid back, tail twitching angrily. Her green eyes seemed to be asking just what the hell they had done to her, in a voice that sounded, in Lucy’s head, a lot like Rhiannon’s.

Lucy smiled, then laughed, and when James laughed with her, she knew in that moment that there was something powerful between them. Something that went beyond attraction or any of the craziness that had thrown them together. There was a connection, and she’d felt it from the moment when she’d first opened her eyes to find him leaning over her as she lay with the very lifeblood seeping out of her and soaking into a New York City sidewalk. She’d known it. She’d felt it. She’d questioned and doubted and ignored that feeling, because it didn’t make any sense to her. It wasn’t logical.

But now she had to wonder just what good logic was anyway. She was on a boat full of vampires with a man who could heal the sick and raise the dead. The Jesus of the Damned, he was. Their savior. Was it any wonder he thought anything he did was justified? With a power like his, how he could not develop a bit of a god complex?

“I’m going to need your help!” Will called from the helm.

Looking up quickly, Lucy realized he’d already piloted the yacht away from shore, while the two of them had been preoccupied, James with the cat and Lucy with James.

“On my way,” James replied. Then he met her eyes, and his had a lot going on in their blue depths. An entire universe swirling within them, and all of it focused on her in that moment. She felt…admired, approved of, complimented and appreciated by him, though he hadn’t spoken a single word. It was all there in his eyes.

“Why don’t you check on our passengers, Lucy? They ought to be coming around soon.”

She nodded and got to her feet, turning to jog across the deck and down the hatch to the cabins below. But as she paused outside the first door, she sensed a presence behind her and turned slowly. Rhiannon’s black panther was slinking down from above, her nose twitching as she searched for her mistress. Pandora’s eyes, like black marbles, met Lucy’s, and the cat went still, crouching a little lower.

Lucy swallowed hard and didn’t dare move as the cat growled low in its throat. She felt the sound rever berating in her solar plexus. Her fear made her want to run. It was what she did, after all. When danger threatened, Lucy fled.

And she could have run then. She could have opened the door to the first cabin, right there at her back, and slipped quickly inside. But something made her stiffen her spine instead. And instead of backing away, she focused on a point just to the right of the panther’s head, because wasn’t looking them in the eye supposed to be challenging behavior? And then she crouched low, and in a very strong, steady, but calm tone she said, “Easy now, Pandora. I’m a friend.”

The growl ceased, and the cat’s ears rose slightly. Her nose twitched, as if sniffing Lucy’s essence, so Lucy opened a hand, palm up, and extended it just a little. “Friend,” she said again. It crossed her mind that up until today she hadn’t even known for sure whose side she was on. But she did now. She felt anger toward those who’d tried to murder the vampires who slept beneath the decks of this massive yacht. She hoped beyond hope that they were all right and would rise with the sunset. She prayed that Brigit and the rest of James’s family were safe. She was indeed a friend to these people. And to this cat. The tears she’d shed when she’d seen it, fallen and lifeless, had been real, and had welled up from the depths of her soul.

Pandora touched her cool nose to the tips of Lucy’s fingers, pulled back slightly, then touched again. And then the cat’s eyes closed slowly, regally, and she lowered her head, tipping it nearly upside down, to nudge Lucy’s hand into petting her. Lucy stroked Pandora’s head, and the cat pressed upward against her palm.

“Oh, my God.” Lucy continued to stroke the animal, which made a chuffing sound, a lot like a purr. “Oh, my God, I’m petting a panther. I’m on a yachtful of vampires, and I’m petting a black panther.”

“Life takes some weird turns, doesn’t it?” James said, drawing her gaze as she wondered when he’d arrived.

She met his eyes, still stroking the cat and smiling. “I’ve always had a weak spot for cats.”

“Really? Do you have any of your own?”

“Just one. A fat spoiled Persian.”

“She’s safe?” he asked.

“He. And yes, he’s perfectly safe. I left him with a cat-worshipping colleague. Well, Marcus is more of a mentor, really. He worked with my father, back in the day. Should have been on that dig with us, but he’d gotten sick and had to leave for the hospital only the day before.”

“That was kismet.”

“He’s the only friend I have from those times. The only person who knew me then who remains in my life today. He was the one who came to find me in the dunes, who took me home.”

“Did he raise you, after that?”

“No, from there I went to an elderly aunt who tolerated me as long as I didn’t make her life inconvenient. I spent six years with her, living like a boarder in her home, and then I went off to college. But Marcus checked in, stayed in touch, never missed a birthday phone call or a holiday gift. He cared for me as much as anyone ever has, I suppose.”

“And your cat—he won’t mind keeping it longer than expected?”

She rolled her eyes. “Poor Marcus. It was only supposed to be overnight, but he’s a lonely, aging intellectual without a pet or a wife to keep him company. I’m sure he’s glad of the extra time with Huwawa.”

“Huwawa?”

She lowered her head, embarrassed. “In Sumerian lore, Huwawa was the monster that guarded the sacred cedar. Supposedly he was slain by Gilgamesh and Enkidu on their final adventure together. In fact, that was the battle where Enkidu received the wound that led to his death. Which is the event that sent the king in search of immortality.”

“In search of Utanapishtim.” James shook his head slowly. “A search that resulted in the creation of my race. Do you have any idea how ironic that is?”

“It hasn’t escaped my notice.” She couldn’t quite bear the scrutiny of his eyes. She wanted to ask if he was feeling what she was—that their coming together in this quest was somehow fated. Preordained. But no, that was reaching, and she was not a believer in fairytales. She was a scientist, for heaven’s sake. “Where are we going?”

“Will knows of an island offshore. It was once used by…” He looked at her, and his eyes sparkled just a bit. “You’re going to love this. Dracula.”

“No.”

He nodded. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when we have time. Meanwhile, ‘The Man Himself’ has a knack for hiding things. He lived on the island for years, keeping it masked by a veil of mist. If we can get him out there to repeat the trick—” He stopped there, looking at something behind Lucy, and she realized by the prickly sensation along her nape that the vampires were rising. Pandora abandoned Lucy’s stroking hand, for the one she’d been seeking. Lucy turned all the way around as she followed the big cat’s progress.

Rhiannon stood there in a less than modest floor-length black nightgown with bloodred lace trim, petting her cat, her long red nails scratching Pandora’s head gently. “A first-degree adept could mask an island with mist,” she said slowly. “It’s little more than a twist on a simple glamoury. The question is, why is it necessary? And what are we doing on this pathetic excuse for a yacht?”

“According to Will, it’s a forty-six-meter Mystic, Rhiannon,” James informed her. “One of the most luxurious yachts there is. Not that I couldn’t tell just by looking around.”

“Pssht. It’s a rowboat with a motor. Now tell me what’s happened. And…” She wrinkled her nose. “What is that pungent aroma? Is that coming from my peignoir?”

Behind her, through the open doorway that led into what looked like a suite at a five-star hotel—king-size bed, gleaming hardwood everywhere, brass fixtures— Roland was rising, too. He gave a brief look around him and then came into the hallway to stand protectively beside the vampire queen, though she needed no protection.

Directly across the hall from them another door opened, revealing a nearly identical room, where Damien and a beautiful, willowy blonde stood arm in arm.

Lucy saw that there were two more cabins, one on each side, and at the end, a wide living-type room, its door standing open.

Willem came down the steps then, taking them all in with a sweeping glance. Lucy shivered, realizing that the Gypsy vampiress, his beloved Sarafina, hadn’t yet risen. Did that mean she was…?

Then a third door opened, and Sarafina stood there, looking puzzled in her satin robe. “Will?”

She caught the scent of smoke that clung to them all, wrinkling her nose, and widening her eyes. “Will, what’s happened? Why are we on the Nightshade?”

Will opened his arms, and she moved into his embrace. “The house is gone,” he said softly.

Rhiannon gasped.

Sarafina seemed to wobble in Will’s embrace. “How?”

“They burned it, didn’t they?” Rhiannon demanded, lifting a long lock of her own hair and bringing it to her nose to sniff. “With us inside. Those putrid mortal weaklings tried to murder us in our sleep.”

“Not just us,” James said softly. As he spoke, he moved, sliding an arm around Lucy’s shoulders to bring her to his side. Then he led her past the four cabins, one with its door still closed, and into the room at the end, which turned out to be a sitting room carpeted in pure white, with elegant brown and butterscotch furnishings that included a three-piece modular sofa and a two-piece love seat that sat at a right angle to each other, glass-topped tables, a wet bar and a huge flat-screen TV.

James picked up the remote from a holder mounted to the wall and flicked on the TV. Its satellite system took a moment to come online, and then he scanned through the channels, finally stopping on one of the twenty-four-hour news networks.

“There were fires all over the nation today,” he said, and the images on the screen backed up his words, as did the ticker running beneath it.

They all read the words scrolling there. The so-called Human League, a group of anti-vampire vigilantes who describe themselves as humanity’s only hope, have organized themselves in a stunningly short time. Their website has already logged more than 2 million hits. They’re claiming 300,000 members, and say they’re attracting more all the time. This group advocates the use of violence, and claims that only by wiping the vampire race from existence do humans stand a chance of surviving.

“The Human League?” Rhiannon looked from one face to the next. “And I suppose they think that’s clever? Sick, murderous animals is what they are. I’ve always said their kind ought to be wiped from existence. Maybe now the rest of you will finally believe me.”

“Shit, Rhiannon, you think just like they do,” James said.

She glared at him. Lucy put a hand on his forearm. “James is one of their kind,” she said softly. “So is Brigit, and so is Will. And I’m one of their kind, too.”

“And so were you once, Rhiannon,” James reminded her.

“I was never one of them. My father was a god.”

“A Pharaoh, love,” Roland said gently. “And I think all the young ones are saying is that there is good and evil in all of us. In humans, as well as in our kind. You know this is true. We’ve encountered rogue vampires.”

“Yes, and when we do, we destroy them. We police ourselves, unlike these weak-willed, morally bankrupt beasts who seek to destroy whatever they do not understand.” She shot Roland a glare, but he only winked at her, which had the effect of softening her expression immediately. Rhiannon sighed, and looked again at Lucy, then at Will and finally at James. “I assume it was the three of you who saved us from a fiery death?”

James nodded. “Not bad for a trio of filthy mortals, huh?”

“So we annihilate all but the good ones,” she hissed. “That will leave a dozen or so left breathing.”

“We’re in your debt,” Roland said, with a deep and formal bow toward James and Lucy. “What is the plan, James? Where are we going?”

“More importantly,” Rhiannon asked, “where is your sister? Tell me we didn’t leave her behind with this kind of mayhem—” she waved an arm toward the TV “—breaking out in the world of man.”

Brigit waited until sundown to send out a mental call. Not a spoken message, no words went out from her mind. No directions. There were a handful of mortals in the world who could pick up on telepathic exchanges, and she didn’t want to give her location away. At ten minutes past dusk she simply closed her eyes and imagined a beam of light shooting from her to them. The vampires. To any and all of them who might pick up on it. It was a brief flash, a beacon. Long enough, and strong enough, she prayed, for the undead to recognize it as legitimate and to home in on its source. Assuming there were any on the mainland who were still alive to pick it up.

She waited a half hour, and then she did it once again.

By the third time Brigit sent out her invisible call, her beacon, she was able to feel them gathering in the shadows just beyond the isolated stretch of beach where she stood. As the moon began to rise at her back, she felt no hint of mortals nearby, and so she lifted her arms to get the vampires’ attention—in case she didn’t have it already.

“I’m Brigit Poe,” she said. “I am one of the so-called mongrel twins. The children of Amber Lily and Edge. And I have summoned you here because we need to organize, to band together, or else we’re going to be wiped out. Our kind faces annihilation. It is up to us to fight back.”

She paused there, hearing the muttering, seeing the pale faces in the darkness nodding in agreement.

“First, please, I must ask, have any of you had word of my family? The Poes, the Bryants, the Marquands?”

Someone shouted out, “I saw Eric and Tamara Marquand last eve. They were heading to some island they’d heard was a refuge. Urged me to go, but I wanted to wait, to find my family.” That pale face lowered, head shaking slowly side to side. “I found them too late. Burned while they slept.”

Brigit sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Is it true? Is there an island refuge?”

“Yes,” Brigit said. “There is. If you begin heading north by northeast, and scan continuously, you’ll pick up on the energy of others. But they won’t be transmitting mentally, you’ll just have to use your senses to locate them. Trust your abilities. Do not use your telepathy, or you run the risk of leading the murderous mortals straight to them.”

Again there was muttering. Brigit looked around them as they drew closer, and she found herself stunned by how few there were. Thirty, perhaps thirty-five. This couldn’t be all that remained, could it? There had to be more.

She cleared her throat, tried to refocus on her mission. “It must be obvious to all of you by now that the mortal world has learned of our existence. Vigilante groups have formed with the purpose of murdering vampires. They’re burning our homes, not to mention the homes of ordinary mortals with nocturnal tendencies. You are no longer safe where you live.”

There was muttering in the ranks, and she gave it a moment before going on. “I have two options to offer you now, tonight. First, my brother and the elders—Rhiannon, Roland, even Gilgamesh himself—are creating a safe haven on the island of which we’ve been speaking. It was formerly known as the Isle of the Impaler. Those of you who do not know of it, speak to those who do. Quietly, and not telepathically. Or simply do as I said and head north by northeast, opening your senses until you feel others of our kind are near. You’ll be safe there. It’s well-stocked with supplies, and its existence will be concealed. That’s your first option.”

“And what’s the second?” someone shouted.

She blinked and looked into those white, ghostlike faces appearing like stars in the darkness. “Join me. Join the resistance. Fight back. Wipe them out before they can exterminate us.”