Savannah Vampire - The Vampire's Secret Part 10

Her smile held. "Uh-huh. Well, okay, send Deylaud if it makes you happy." She slipped her arms around my neck. "I want you to be happy."

"I am," I said, lying only a little. "And Deylaud will be ecstatic."

"He does seem to like me."

"Like? 'Mesmerized' is more the word. He loves me, but for you I think he would even defy me." I gave her a soft kiss. "Be careful what you ask of him."

Her smile disappeared as her mouth rose to meet mine in earnest, and I lost the thread of the conversation.

My prediction was correct. Deylaud had barely heard my request for him to go to Eleanor before he was opening the front door.

Reyha did not even offer to go along. They'd been bickering of late, but I didn't have time to sort it out. They were brother and sister, after all. They'd have to kiss and make up at some point.

Since Eleanor was out of my care, I thought to use the time to do some business. In a few days I would be hosting the largest group meeting of New World vampires that had ever been held. Hiding was no longer an option since Reedrek had surely communicated his destination to someone in Europe. Better to be prepared together than hidden and separate.

Time was of the essence. Reedrek had been missing from Europe for nearly a month and a search party of old sires could be forming, or even already on its way by sea. From the time Jack and I entombed Reedrek, we had been working and organizing, making all the preparations necessary to play host to vampires representing every region of the country.

It was unfortunate that Iban, Tobey, and Gerard would have to return to Savannah so soon. I had offered them the use of my plantation home and its staff so they could winter in Savannah, but each had had business interests to attend to and preparations of their own to make before the meeting.

The logistics were now complete and the vampires would begin arriving in approximately forty-eight hours.

I checked messages on b.l.o.o.d.y Gentry.

From RioRoho of the Texas contingent: There are those of us who remember the Alamo clearly. We are prepared for anything this time. Let 'em come. See you on the 28th. It was signed TRR.

Travis had been at the Alamo, though not as a fighter. He 'd taken his share of the thousands of surplus Mexican soldiers surrounding the upstart Americans. Afterward, he'd adopted a local human name to please all sides: Travis to honor the fabled colonel, and Rubio to placate the period's Mexican majority. He refused to divulge what the middle R stood for. Perhaps he'd never decided-it had been less than two hundred years, after all. Vampires could, on the whole, take as long as they liked to make up their minds. I'd heard unconfirmed rumors that he'd moved to New Mexico, or was it Arizona?

I composed an answer. Send a list of what you require. I am at your service. Thorne.

From CENTRALPKVU, whom I knew to be Lucius's a.s.sistant in New York: We require separate and private lodgings for three-will bring staff. Please-no bugs, b.u.mpkins, or barbarians. Lucius remembers Savannah well and wonders how you've managed to survive there for all these decades without so many as two sophisticated humans to rub together. He says he would die of boredom within a week. I myself have had my curiosity piqued. We'll need appropriate transport from the executive airport, fresh blood (Lucius is currently favoring equine, but he said a few willing, attractive swans would go a long way to improve his mood), and a view of the water.

A view of the water, indeed. Lucius had always been a prig, and I knew very well he expected first -rate accommodations. But sn.o.bbery aside, it would be good to see him once more. I 'd already given instructions to my staff to open the house on Isle of Hope.

The next message came from my s.h.i.+pping manager in Ireland.

Have a request for transport of certain goods from a local. Have not received the usual instructions. Are you expecting a s.h.i.+pment?

I don't like surprises, especially where my business is concerned. Few would have the nerve to bypa.s.s me and try to board one of my s.h.i.+ps. My first thought was of Olivia-we all knew she had the nerve for most anything-but Olivia would have contacted me, or found transportation on her own. And when I'd last heard from her, she'd said she was traveling in the opposite direction.

Curious.

Give the customer my e-mail address. Offer nothing else. Let them contact me.

Having done all I could do on that front, my thoughts naturally returned to Eleanor and what might be happening in her bas.e.m.e.nt across town. Never having been a patient man-at least not since my "death" by Reedrek's hand-I left my office and went to my own altar, which had been set up among Melaphia's. I lit the candles and just stood there. I knew I should be following instructions and prostrating myself to the orishas, but the itch to have Eleanor in my sight was too strong. Instead of falling to my knees, I picked up the braided lock of Eleanor's hair and went to retrieve the bone box.

The reflecting pond was dark and filled with stars as the sh.e.l.ls tumbled from the box. In a blink I was flying among the live oaks, Spanish moss trailing like spidery fingers against my coat and hair. Then I was hovering over the vacant s.p.a.ce where Eleanor 's house used to stand. I could see her face reflected in the candlelight, hear her voice as she chanted.

"By the bones we walk on, the air we breathe. By the blood we share, the years we grieve." As she spoke she drew a symbol on the ground with something white-sugar or flour. "I honor all those before me. Erzulie, come to me. This body is yours. I am yours." With that promise, Eleanor bent and touched her forehead to the ground and began to hum. The chant may have had words but they were blended together to form a repet.i.tive lament.

The sadness in the chant entered my chest like the thrust of a knife. I wanted to charge forward and stop the ceremony, to keep this Erzulie away from my Eleanor; but I had no say in this. According to Melaphia, the Vodoun was our destiny now and we had to find our true path within it.

A movement near a tree still blackened by the fire caught my attention. Deylaud-in human form-was kneeling with his hands clasped, as though in prayer. His shoulders were shaking. Floating closer, I could see tears running freely down his cheeks. So he had felt it, too.

Eleanor's sorrowful chant broke its rhythm briefly on a sob. I wanted to go to her, to soothe her. But as I moved to her, I saw that she was beyond my help. Tiny droplets were oozing from the concrete behind the altar like tears and falling like sad raindrops on the flowers.

Erzulie was the orisha of love, but she was also the mistress of tragedy. I felt a stirring of true fear, along with a renewed spark of anger. Why would Maman Lalee cause the one I loved to be sacrificed on the altar of tragedy? Hadn't we had enough pain?

As though disturbed by my thoughts, Eleanor sat up. She stared at the concrete and slowly the tears falling from stone began to turn pink, then red. Tears of blood and vengeance, falling in fat juicy drops that sizzled as they struck the now ruined camellias.

"No!" I made an attempt to grab Eleanor's arm and drag her away. The air around her s.h.i.+mmered but she was not moved.

A warning growl stopped me from trying again. Deylaud, still in human form, leaped to the concrete floor next to her and bared his canine teeth-an intimidating combination. He stared at a place near where I hovered, sensing a threat but not recognizing what the threat meant. Neither of them could see me. But Eleanor knew I was there.

"Go away, William," she whispered. "You promised. Leave me be."

At her dismissal, fury engulfed me. I would never willingly hurt either of them, but who knew what might happen if emotion overrode my good intentions? In the past I'd used anger to drive me toward revenge or to find prey worthy of a violent death.

Fortunately on this night, the power of the sh.e.l.ls removed me from the need to decide what should be done. Or perhaps I should have said unfortunately, for I found myself in the dark again. Not the immense darkness of that in-between world of demons and the d.a.m.ned, but the close, suffocating dark of a coffin. My need to see had raised a response from the power flowing through me.

And now I saw the monster whose blood I carried in my veins. I found myself staring into the face of my immortal enemy and sire: Reedrek.

His wheeze of surprise was worth the trip. Any uncertainty about Eleanor was pushed to the very back of my thoughts, and my anger proceeded to gather like a cloak around me.

"You look like h.e.l.l," I said, my voice filled with artificial cheer.

Reedrek worked his emaciated jaw but could not come up with a proper reply. I immediately felt better. Never believe that well-earned revenge isn't sweet. Besting Reedrek far surpa.s.sed a three-course human meal and a full week of wall-banging s.e.x. I smiled.

His face contorted, though I could feel hope welling inside him, hope and the joy of contact. He 'd been alone in the dark, weighed down by anchor chains, a locked steel coffin, several tons of fine Georgia granite, and Melaphia 's holding juju since the night he'd tried to kill us all.

"They're...coming," he wheezed.

"Who's coming?"

"Hu...go."

I steeled my expression to keep from showing my surprise. How could Reedrek possibly know anything? He was too far away from his cronies to communicate...unless he could read it from my thoughts. Just in case, I let him soak up all he could of the mayhem that I would wreak on anyone who came to rescue him.

"We're planning a welcome party for those of your friends who might venture across the pond," I said. "After all, we have three more vacant corners of this lovely building to fill. A blood bank with vampires planted in the foundations-even the humans would appreciate that irony."

"What...do...you...want? My-" He managed a rasping chuckle. "-help?"

I thought about that for a few seconds. Asking for Reedrek's help would be like asking a starving lion to protect a fledgling lamb.

But what did I want?

I wanted him to suffer.

"I have brought you a gift," I told him. I could feel his hope flare, the hope that I would set him free. "I have a different sort of darkness to show you." With that the sh.e.l.ls set about their work. I heard the demons before I saw them, as they crowded into the small airless s.p.a.ce. If Reedrek had no soul to drop into the stopover between life and h.e.l.l-the place where Eleanor and Shari had witnessed unimaginable horrors-then I, with the help of my personal Vodoun loa Ghede, would bring a corner of h.e.l.l to him. It was the perfect torture for my revolting sire. I hovered only long enough for Reedrek to notice the demons pressing closer.

Immortality had its problems along with its a.s.sets. They wouldn 't be able to kill him, but by the time they finished a.s.saulting his sanity, he'd most likely beg to be staked and put out of his misery.

"As Olivia would say, Cheerio!" I called over the din. The only answer was a wail that would have raised goose b.u.mps on my skin-if I'd been occupying it at the time.

Jack I led Huey by the hand through the tunnels to Melaphia's house, hoping to goodness that she was home and up to helping me with my zombie infestation. He lurched along beside me like a drunk two-year-old. I don't know if that was because zombies really did walk like they do in the Living Dead movies or because he couldn't see. And I didn't know if he couldn't see because zombies can't see in low light or because I had a bag over his head. It wasn't like I hadn't cut him some eyeholes.

The reason I'd put a brown paper bag over his head was so he wouldn't scare the p.i.s.s out of some poor old homeless b.a.s.t.a.r.d who'd been hoping to get a warm night's sleep in some corner of the tunnels-that is, if he didn't scare someone plumb to death.

As we made our way through the darkness-I had no trouble seeing, of course-I prayed that Melaphia could work the same magic over Huey's body that she'd worked over Shari's when she died. It seemed like I was doing a lot of praying just lately, especially for a demon d.a.m.ned for all eternity.

Dying while in the process of being made into a vampire was particularly hard on poor Shari 's earthly body. It had begun to decay rapidly, but Melaphia had said some chants over it and strewn some herbs onto it, and presto-she'd been able to spruce the body up quite a bit. If she could just do the same for Huey it might buy me enough time to figure out what to do with him. The irregulars had been so shocked and horrified by Huey's zombified reappearance that Huey had won a few hands of poker.

That never used to happen. The poor devil was so dumb he never asked for any cards from the dealer, always keeping the cards he'd been dealt. This time the irregulars were so distracted they didn't ask for any cards either, so it evened up the odds. It was Huey's lucky night, all right. Not only did he win at poker, but he really hit the jackpot when I accidentally raised him from his eternal dirt nap. Way to go, Huey.

Werm was having a hard time dealing with zombies and werewolves on the same night, so I 'd told him to go home. To the irregulars' credit, they did try their best to help me think of some options.

"Tell people he's a leper," Otis had suggested. "They have pieces fall off all the time, they say."

This idea had put the others right off their Doritos and Old Milwaukee.

"Dammit, Otis," Rennie spat. "How many customers do you think we'd have left if we let it be known that our detail man had leprosy? Even if you could keep folks from seeing him, they'd eventually smell him. People like their vehicles to have that new car smell after they've been detailed, not that month-old corpse reek."

A number of other suggestions were vetoed, including one Rufus had about putting a bandana over Huey's nose and mouth and telling people he had the galloping consumption. I pointed out that people weren't keen on contracting tuberculosis any more than they wanted a dose of leprosy.

That's when I decided to throw myself on Melaphia's mercy. First I would have to admit that I screwed up the voodoo ritual she'd so carefully picked out for me. Then I 'd have to admit that my antics had produced a specimen of the walking dead that smelled a whole lot like dog p.o.o.p and Doritos.

When we got to the tunnel opening that led to William's vault, I took a dogleg turn that I knew would take me out the root cellar in Melaphia's backyard. Her cottage was the former servants' quarters of William's mansion and shared its courtyard. For servants' quarters, it was quite a show-place that was on the historic register and was a featured stop on Savannah's tour of homes every year.

An ornate iron fence separated William's part of the courtyard-complete with its fancy j.a.panese reflecting pool-from Melaphia's, which was full of a huge variety of flowering plants, mostly of creeping vinelike varieties.

I pushed open the slanted wooden lid of the cellar and looked out. The fence around her part of the courtyard was stylish but designed as much for privacy as it was for beauty. The vines, heavily laden with flowers, covered the fence and the tall vegetation with riotous color and a hypnotic scent. The Spanish moss that grew on the close canopy of live oaks hung down so low it almost met up with the vines and taller flowering bushes. The whole effect was of stepping into the garden of Eden.

The courtyard garden had always been like this, even in the days of Melaphia 's foremothers. Flowers that didn't have any business blooming in the dead of winter were as plentiful in January as they were in May. It was a testament to the power of the generations of kinswomen who had lived here. I suspected the fortresslike privacy was to hide the ancient voodoo rituals that were too expansive to be held indoors and must be performed under the stars.

I told Huey to stay put and was about to climb up the cellar's stone steps when the back door of the house slammed and Renee appeared, dressed in her school uniform and saddled with a backpack almost as big as she was. Her beaded braids bounced with every step as she walked along the cobblestone path. I tried to close the hatchlike door before she saw me, but I was too late.

"Hi, Uncle Jack," she said. "Who's your friend and why does he have a bag over his head?"

"Uh, this is Huey. He's a...leper."

"Oh," she said. If she thought it strange that a vampire and a leper were hiding among the potatoes and yams in her mother 's root cellar she didn't let on. In her nine years on earth, Renee had seen more weird goings-on than most people do if they live to be a hundred. "Be careful. The sun's almost up." "Thanks, punkin," I said. "I will."

I saw a flash of light through the tiny slats in the fence and heard the ding, ding, ding a car makes when you open the door with the key still in it. "That's my car pool," Renee announced and let herself out of a gate that was all but hidden by the vines.

Melaphia, who had poked her head out the back door to make sure Renee made it to the car pool, spied me standing waist - deep in the cellar. "Jack, what are you doing here? And who is that with you?" She stepped out of the house dressed in one of her colorful, African-inspired ceremonial robes made from a patchwork of brilliant silks.

"Uh, this is Huey."

"Why is there a bag over his head?"

"Well, uh..." Now that I had actually arrived, I couldn't think of how to begin.

"Wait! Huey? The Huey who was killed a few weeks back?"

Huey waved. "Hey," he said in a m.u.f.fled greeting. "Pleased to meet ya, ma'am."

I laced my fingers together in front of me. "That would be him."

"Jack! You crazy cracker, what have you done?" Melaphia stalked closer, squinting into the darkness to get a better look at Huey.

"It was an accident! Honest! I prayed to that voodoo G.o.d and asked him to make my vampire powers stronger, so maybe I could make the most of that flying thing, and before you know it, Huey here was pus.h.i.+ng his way out of the ground like a March daffodil."

Melaphia winced and closed her eyes. "Your powers with the dead. Those were the powers that got enhanced. Tell me, where did you perform your ceremony?"

"In back of the garage," I admitted.

"Next to where you buried Huey? Way to go, Jackie. How many times do I have to tell you, the forces I work with are powerful. You have to be careful how you use them."

"I know, I know. I screwed up. But what am I going to do with him now?"

Melaphia steeled herself. "Let me see him."

I lifted the bag off Huey's head. One of his eyeb.a.l.l.s had gone askew and no longer looked in the same direction as the other one. It was not a good look for him-not that it would be for anybody, come to think of it.

"Oh, my G.o.d!" Melaphia exclaimed.

I let the bag fall back down over the poor guy's head. Just because he was the walking dead didn't mean he didn't have feelings.

"Well, what do you expect? He is a zombie."

"I know he's a zombie! I'm a voodoo mambo, dammit. I know a zombie when I see one!"

"Mel, calm down. You've got to help me. Can't you spruce him up like you did with Shari? Maybe do some spell or say some kind of chant that will keep him from rotting any more than he already has?"

Melaphia drew herself up and looked away from Huey. "I'll see what I can do, but I need time. Take him back to the garage and lock him in your office. I'll gather up some herbs and offerings and consult the texts, and I'll be right over there as soon as I get through with Connie."

"Connie?" My breath caught at the mention of her name. "She's coming here?"

"Yes, I went to her and talked her into coming to what I described as a...a women-running-with-the-wolves ritual that must take place precisely at sunrise. The results should give us more of an inkling of what we're dealing with where she's concerned."

"'What we're dealing with'? It sounds like you're more concerned about what Connie's power means to us than it means to her," I observed uneasily.

"When I say 'we,' Jack, I mean you. Like I told you before, she could be a danger to you, but I won't know until after the ceremony. And maybe not even then."

"I can't believe that you talked her into coming over here."

"I think she's just doing it to ingratiate herself with me."

"Why would she do that?"