Lizzie rejoined life with an anxious curse, springing from the coffin and rushing into the front room where Tucker was dozing on the couch. He awoke to her smothering him with kisses and brushed futilely at her, laughing.
"I was so worried," she said breathlessly. "The sun was coming up and we had to leave. Dr. Philippi swore you would be all right."
"I am, I am," Tucker grumbled, embarrassed at the affection with the two Vampire men so close. "C'mon, let's get this show on the road. I reckon we should be on our way to New Mexico."
"I'll call ahead to Madame B. We can stay there tomorrow."
"Naw," Tucker responded. "We ain't stopping. It'll be harder to find us if we're always moving."
Dr. Philippi kindly offered his Land Rover to the expedition. They were loading what little supplies Dr. Philippi could provide, aseptic cartons of blood and clean clothes, into the car.
"Oh, Lizzie, it will be wonderful to spend such uninterrupted time with you," Sully was rambling. "I just know I'll lose you altogether once we get to New Mexico. There will be a line to see you and I'll never get more than five minutes of your time,"
Sully cooed, holding her arm. Tucker glared at his back and Lizzie, laughing, looked back to catch his anger. She was briefly puzzled, then realization dawned and she sighed and shook her head.
"Sully, it's nice to see you too, but don't think you get to monopolize me on our little trip. I want to spend as much time with Tucker as possible."
Sully looked mystified and hurt as Lizzie tilted her head toward Tucker, who was mad enough not to notice. Sully nodded and smiled, then waited for Tucker and caught his arm. Tucker looked at him like he was a walking disease.
Sully pursed his lips and wiggled his hips. "Now, my sweet cowboy, don't get your rooster feathers all in a tussle. If anyone should be jealous, it should be our Queen." Lizzie giggled.
To emphasize his statement, Sully slid his hand over Tucker's ass, giving it a quick squeeze, and saying, "I'm a hen, honey."
Tucker pushed him away, horrified, and might have lashed out, but Sully, with his supernatural agility, was already ten feet away.
He blew Tucker a kiss. Lizzie came to stand next to Tucker. She wagged her finger at Sully in mock seriousness.
"He's sold goods, Sully."
Tucker nodded his head furiously, grabbed her hand and slapped it on his ass, where Sully's had just been. "I surely am sold goods," he said.
"He's just having fun with you, Tucker," Lizzie said.
"That ain't funny," he said, but realized how misplaced his jealousy had been, and they all laughed.
In the time it took for Tucker to get a chew in and Lizzie to find a cup of coffee, a group of eager young Vampires pulled a small trailer into the parking garage. They hitched it to the Land Rover and loaded into it a pair of coffins.
"Would you like one?" Dr. Philippi asked.
"Uh, no. I think I'll pass," Tucker answered.
"They really are restful."
"No, thanks, but answer me a question. Why do you use them anyways? Seems like just being in a dark room is good enough protection."
"It is, but the coffins are an extremely convenient way to allow our humans to move us during the day, if necessary.
Unfortunately, carrying what seems to be a dead man in a bag or a cardboard box is usually reason enough to be stopped by the authorities," Dr. Philippi replied.
Tucker spit onto the pavement, yawned, and opened the back door. "I think I'll do like my Adamite ancestors have done for the last hundred years - sleep in the back seat." Rex hopped in ahead of him.
"I guess I'll take the wheel for now," Sully said. He opened the door for Lizzie then walked around and slid behind the wheel.
"Although, I much prefer coaches to cars."
"Versailles was a different world," Dr. Philippi said as he waved and walked into the shadows.
Within minutes, they had bid their farewells and left the skyline of Manhattan behind. Tucker sat in the back seat with his shotgun across his lap. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the Land Rover passed the city limits. Only then did Tucker relax and stretch out. Under the system they worked out, Lizzie and Sully could "sleep" by day, while Tucker drove. At nightfall, Tucker could sleep in the back seat while they drove. This first night, Lizzie quickly traded places with Rex and lay beside Tucker. Rex sat in the passenger seat with the window open, comparing wordlessly with Sully the strange and wondrous scents of the night.
They didn't feed in front of Tucker. Lizzie could tell by the look on his face that it still didn't sit right with him. Not that she was feeding on humans yet. She couldn't bring herself to take that step, much to Sully's consternation. Dr. Philippi had provided plenty of blood, jokingly taking credit for the ancient practice of bloodletting, but watching her feed on the little pouches still left Tucker pale and rattled. As for larger animals, the savagery of the act upset him, but not as much as Sully's little outings into the night. His forays were definitely not after animals, given that most of them occurred in metropolitan areas.
When they stopped at a rest area, Sully took Tucker aside. "Tucker, I know you love her, which is why we have to talk. She has to feed soon, on a human. Her soul depends on it."
Tucker leaned on the car hood and spit, silently gathering his thoughts. At last he spoke. "If you think I'm going to encourage her to kill someone, you got a long spell to wait."
"She has to in order to survive."
"Now listen here. Against my better interests, I'm starting to like you. But don't tell me what she needs to survive. She was doing just fine before you and your kind mucked everything up."
Sully sighed, a heaviness filled his limbs. "My kind had nothing to do with it. We tried our best to let her live a normal life. We tried, we really did."
"That may be true, but you failed. Things are bad now, but I cannot, with a clear conscience, turn her into a murderer."
"What are you guys talking about?" Lizzie asked, materializing from the shadows of the restroom. She was dabbing crimson from the corner of her mouth.
"Nothing, darling."
"Why don't I believe you?"
"C'mon, let's get rolling."
Miles fell behind them in this fashion, and time. Soon enough, the motion of travel became the standard. Such was the case when Tucker awoke in the back seat, surprised by the stillness, the lack of motion and the quietness of being parked by the side of the road. He stretched and stepped out into the cool morning, the sun barely up and, as yet, ineffective. Rex jumped out and pissed on the tire, yawned, and stretched lazily. Tucker sighed heavily and thought about breakfast.
After checking on Sully and Lizzie in the trailer, he took over the daytime driving shift. Pushing the car another fifty miles along, he found a little town with an equally little restaurant, and went in for a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits and gravy. Not bad, he thought, must be getting farther West. He pulled the map out and spread it on the table, tracing with his finger their route thus far. They were making good time and so far, no sign of trouble. He looked longingly at the state of Wyoming. He made a decision, probably not his best, and after paying the bill, crawled back behind the wheel. Rex sat in the front seat and Tucker used the button to lower the power window on the passenger side. "Smell that, boy? I think it's time for a little detour."
By the end of that day, the car and its load were no longer on a direct route to New Mexico. Later, when the sun set, and Tucker heard Sully and Lizzie rattling around in the trailer, he pulled over.
Sully crawled into the front seat and looked at the odometer. "My, you've been busy."
Tucker nodded. "Yep."
Sully opened the map and clicked on the cargo light. "Where are we now?"
Tucker sucked in his breath and stabbed his finger down. "I'd say right around here."
"But, but, that's... we're going the wrong way We're going north."
"Yep. Thought maybe we should swing through LonePine. Just for a day or two. See Dad."
"But they'll look for us there. They'll be waiting."
"Like they won't be waiting in New Mexico. Figured this might throw them off a little. Besides, I can't leave Dad up there alone."
"That's just unacceptable. Too risky Tell him, Lizzie. We can't take chances like this. Tell him."
Lizzie, still outside the car, looked at Tucker with shining eyes. "I'd love to see LonePine again."
Sully snorted in disbelief. "But darling, it's just not safe. Am I the only one with any sense left?"
"Sully, it's important to Tucker, and he's important to me. I'm going with him. You don't have to come along."
"Not come along? My Lord, my God, Lazarus would have my head. I have not been going to that ridiculous little church for nearly three decades now to miss out on the best part of this assignment," he said indignantly, then continued in a soothing voice,
"Lizzie, dearest, you must think beyond yourself now. You have tremendous power and Lazarus is very anxious to see you. I hardly think that a detour to that ramshackle little ghost town," he winced and looked at Tucker, "quaint as it might be, is critically important at this time."
Lizzie's eyes seemed to suddenly catch the moonlight, as they flashed defiantly at Sully. "Let's get something straight. Nothing, I mean nothing, will come between Tucker and me. Got that?" Sully nodded, taken aback by the vehemence of her words, and by the fact that she had begun to levitate slowly off the ground until she was forced to hold the door handle as an anchor.
Tucker stared in open-mouthed awe, then grinned from ear to ear. "Reckon we're heading to LonePine."
Sully swallowed audibly, then hurriedly studied the map. "This looks like the quickest route," he whispered.
Tucker smiled. "Don't you just love a road trip? Always unpredictable." He crawled in the back seat and Lizzie crawled on top of him, giggling.
Sully looked at Rex and rolled his eyes.
By midafternoon the next day, Tucker pulled across the Wyoming border and gave a little whoop of joy as he did. A passing truck driver blew his airhorn and waved, and Tucker breathed deep, happy to be back in a place where people were naturally friendly and there was room for deep breaths. Not much driving time was left before they got to LonePine and he thought maybe he could get them there before they awoke. He pulled on his denim jacket so he could leave the window, down and enjoy the mountain air, cooling quickly as the afternoon stretched toward evening.
His pleasant reveries were interrupted by the harsh sound of a siren. A quick check of the rear-view mirror revealed a police car, lights blazing. The driver, Tucker realized, looked just like Melissa Braver's little brother Bart. He was just a kid when Tucker had spent time over at the Braver's. Used to ride to the Dairy Queen for ice cream, most of which Bart had managed to drip on the seat of Tucker's truck. Smiling at the memories, Tucker pulled the car and trailer over to the side of the road, but the tenor of their reunion was quickly defined as different than Tucker had expected.
"Tucker," he called out in a business-like voice, "keep your hands up where I can see them and remain in the truck."
Bart pulled his standard-issue police automatic out of the holster and pointed it toward the driver's side window.
Tucker opened the door and started to climb out. "Bart, what the hell do think you're doing? It's me."
In response, Bart cocked the hammer in a traditional Western greeting and things became substantially more tense. "If you take another step I swear to God I'll put a bullet in your knee."
Tucker raised his hands, eyes wide. "Bart, have you lost your mind?"
"No, but it seems you have. Now turn around and put your hands on the hood."
He did. Rex was sitting on the front seat, watching curiously through the open door. "Hey Rex," Bart said, "how you doing, boy?" Rex thumped his tail. Bart kicked Tucker's feet farther apart, keeping the muzzle of his auto leveled at belt-buckle height.
He ran his free hand up Tucker's legs, around his waist, and under his arms until it bumped into the Casull. Bart's whole body tensed and he gingerly pulled it free and dropped it, giving it a kick with his boot.
"Jesus Christ, Bart, take it easy. That's Dad's gun."
Bart poked his pistol into his ear. "Take it easy? I ain't screwing around here, Tucker. I don't want to have to shoot you."
"I don't want that either, Bart. Just tell me what the hell this is about."
"Keep your hands behind your back." He slapped the cuffs on. "What's going on is you're wanted for questioning."
"Questioning, for what? What the hell's going on? Can I turn around now?"
"Yeah." He holstered the piece and stepped back to regard him. "Murder. Seems you got into a little bit of trouble out in New York."
"I sure did. But I didn't kill nobody. Not people, anyway."
"According to our bulletins, you're wanted for questioning in the disappearance of one Elizabeth Vaughan. She's plumb vanished and folks at her work are getting a mite concerned."
"Oh shit. Of course she disappeared, but she ain't dead. Well, she is dead, technically But I didn't kill her. Julius did. Even though she ain't dead. This ain't coming out right."
He nodded. "Maybe you should wait for a lawyer. For the time being, let's just say you're under arrest. And anything you say..."
"... can be used against me. I know, I know, I watch TV, too. But she ain't really dead."
"Tucker, you can't be kind of dead," Bart said. Then he leaned against the truck and put a chew in and started petting Rex.
"That's what I used to think, Bart. But things ain't so clear anymore."
"Well," he said slowly as he spit, "they're pretty clear in the eyes of the law."
"Aww, Bart. How long I known you?"
"Ever since you started squirreling around with my sister."
"Bart, listen to me. You know I ain't a murderer. I didn't kill my girlfriend. I didn't kill anyone. Anyone that wasn't already dead."
He looked at Tucker for a while. "I think maybe I'll take a look at your load."
The thought of an impartial observer with a badge and a gun finding two corpses made Tucker wince. "I don't think that's a good idea, Bart. And don't you need a search warrant or something?"
"I just arrested you, Tucker. You ain't got no rights." Rex came out good naturedly and followed Bart to the back of the trailer.
The sun was still perched dangerously far from the rim of the mountains, and Tucker hung his head and prayed for the earth to turn a little faster. Just my luck, he thought. By the time Lizzie and Sully arose, he'd be in lockup, Julius would send his legions, and his little trip home would be the end of them all. He hunkered down by the tire, the cuffs pulling against his wrists.
Bart unlatched the back door and it swung open. He sucked in a breath and whistled it out. Sometimes the sight of a coffin will do that.
"Tucker, you better start talking." There wasn't anything to say, so he just listened to the thud of boot heels climbing in, felt the truck shift under the weight and heard the scrape of one of the coffins being opened. "C'mon back here, Tucker."
"I'm mighty comfortable here."
"I insist."
He struggled up and walked around the corner. "Do me a favor, Bart. Just keep it out of the sun."
"There ain't no sun, it's done set," said Bart, and Tucker realized, gratefully, that he was right. He prayed that Lizzie wasn't going to sleep in tonight. He and Rex watched as Bart opened the coffin wider. "Jesus Christ," he exclaimed. "This must be your girlfriend. She's real pretty, Tucker." He held his fingers to her neck to search for a pulse. "And real dead."
Rex jumped up on his hind legs and licked her face.
"I can explain this."
"Let's do it down at the station."
Tucker looked forlornly at the night sky. "I'd rather do it right here." Bart shrugged and pointed at the squad car.
In the car, Bart listened politely and attentively to everything Tucker had to say When he got to the part about Vampires, Bart smiled and nodded and even acted interested. Tucker stretched the story out as long as he could, even going back a couple of places to emphasize certain things about Vampires, all the while waiting for Lizzie to make an appearance.
At last, he ran out of words. Bart smiled patiently and started the engine. "Bart, what're you doing?"
"Taking you to jail." He pulled the radio loose and held it up to his mouth. "Dispatch, this is 112."
"Go ahead, Bart," the radio crackled.
"I just picked up..." There was a tapping on the window, like a raven gently rapping. Bart looked up into the beautiful face of Lizzie, smiling down into the squad car.
"If you two are almost done, we really should get going," she said.
"Jesus H. Christ," Bart shrieked and the radio slipped from his hand. 'She's dead. She's dead," he stammered. "There wasn't no pulse.
"Bart, you broke up, Bart," dispatch crackled. "Please repeat."
Tucker slumped forward in the seat and sighed with relief. "I told you, Bart. I told you she was dead."
"If she's so dead, how come she's standing right there?" he stammered. Lizzie smiled and waved, shielding her eyes from the headlights. Bart paled considerably and Tucker raised his wrists up, nodding toward the handcuffs.
"Can I go now?"
"How the hell am I supposed to write this up?"
Bart and Tucker huddled together in the cab of his squad car, trying to come up with a plan. Lizzie leaned regally but impatiently against the Land Rover. At last Bart drove off, leaving Tucker standing beside the road.
"About time. You want me to drive?" she asked.
Tucker rubbed his wrists and looked cross. "Took your own sweet time getting out of bed. I could've been hauled off to jail by now."
"It's not a bed, honey, it's a coffin. Besides, I figured he was a friend of yours."
"Hell, sweetheart, everyone around here is a friend of mine."
"What did he say?"
"He said he was going to pretend none of this had ever happened. He said he was going back to the station and break that rule about cops drinking on duty. He said we had three weeks before he called the FBI. And he also said you was real pretty."
"Really? That's sweet. I'm just glad Sully didn't come out. I can only imagine what he would have thought then." Hearing his name, Sully slammed the trailer shut and wandered over to the front door.
"Good evening, Tucker, how was your day? You must be exhausted, all that driving." He took a deep breath. "Smell that air. It's so invigorating, so wonderfully pine scented. Where are we?"
Tucker crawled back behind the wheel, muttering. "We're outside of LonePine. God's country. And I call it God's country because until only recently, there wasn't no Vampires here."
"Tucker." Lizzie gave him a nudge in the ribs. If Sully heard, he chose to ignore it.
After New York, LonePine looked small and lonesome in comparison. The lights of the main street, those that were still on as they pulled into town at nearly 10:30, were few and far between. There was no traffic, other than between the town's two bars.
Tucker's eyes glazed over and Lizzie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Ain't it beautiful?" he said.
"It's something, all right," Lizzie said. "Looks just the same as the first time I saw it."
"Something to be said for things staying the same."
She swiveled to face him, the conversation taking a turn for the worse. "Change is good," she said, cutting him a hard look.
"Whoever said that probably had it pretty bad to begin with," Tucker suggested, still unaware of the underlying discussion they were having.
"Or maybe they just didn't realize things could get better." She let go of his hand as he reached for the gear stick to slow down for the turn onto Dad's road.
"Maybe that only applies to people who are bored," Sully chimed in. "You know, if you're bored, any kind of change seems exciting and new. For example, I have been alive for what, twelve hundred years, and I am constantly amazed that I have yet to grow bored. Of course, I am always trying to find new things to keep my interests up..."
His conversation with himself lasted so long, Tucker began to wonder if Vampires needed oxygen. Lizzie stared icily ahead as they pulled up in front of Dad's. Tucker felt a vague sense of making a mistake, that he needed to say something to reassure her, but decided that, as close as they were, she should be able to tell that he was sorry and hadn't meant anything and was just tired from driving all day.
The door to Dad's house cracked open and the barrel of his old ten-gauge goose gun poked out. "Tucker, that you?"
"Yeah."
"You ain't a Vampire now, are you?"
"Naw."
"If you are, I'm gonna shoot you right now. I didn't raise my kid to be no Vampire."
"And what exactly is wrong with being a Vampire?" Lizzie asked as she appeared beside him.
"Aw, Lizzie," he said, the gun barrel dipping. "I didn't mean nothing by that."
"I should hope not," Sully added as he crawled out of the truck. "We're not all like those awful Vampires you met before. Some of us are quite civilized and rather enjoyable to be around. And I must say, I love your cabin. It's so charming. It reminds me of this little hunting chalet I used to stay at in Austria whenever the Viscount and I went after stag or fox. It was remarkably warm and on those lovely Austrian nights..."
"Tucker," Dad said, "who's that?"
"That's Mr. Sully A friend of Lizzie's."
"Does he ever shut up?"
"Only in the daytime."
He nodded and opened the door, motioning them in. "Well, come on in. Coffee's on."
"Reckon it's been on for a week now. I almost hate to ask, but do you have any of them beans you promised?"
MANHATTAN COMPOUND
October 18, 11:10 P.M.
At this stage in his life, Lazarus did not particularly enjoy the sophisticated veneer of city life. While he had rarely visited this Manhattan compound in the past, he had on occasion been pulled to New York by its easy hunting. Thus, he had the comfort of coming to a place he at least understood well. He wished his task here was one of a reunion of old friends, rather than of confrontation. Had things gone differently 700 years ago, that might be the reality. Lazarus rang the bell. The door creaked open warily. A man that Lazarus did not recognize, but clearly a Vampire, poked his head through the narrow slit between door and frame.
"What do you want?" the young Vampire asked menacingly He was rough-looking, unshaven with greasy black hair. Downright ugly, thought Lazarus, as he considered Julius' low standards.
"I wish to see Julius."
"Go to hell," the greasy Vampire responded and started to shut the door. In less than an instant, Lazarus pulled it off the hinges.
The young Vampire stood motionless, suddenly afraid. "You are one of us," he whispered, "I thought you were Adamite."
"Your master's training has always been woefully inadequate. Why were you unable to sense me?" Julius' underling did not respond. "Never mind, it's none of my concern," said Lazarus. "Run along and fetch Jenkins for me."
"Jenkins no longer has any responsibility in this household."
Lazarus felt his cold blood chill further. Jenkins no longer in a position of power? Something was seriously amiss. His patience exhausted, he pushed the young upstart aside and walked into the compound. The Vampire had enough sense to push the alarm buttons so that as Lazarus entered the gardens, he was immediately surrounded by a dozen Vampires, accompanied by several brutish Adamites, all heavily armed.
Lazarus was merely annoyed. It had been too long since his last visit and obviously these minions had not been told that there was another Vampire as powerful and strong as Julius. From their perspective, he imagined, he was simply a fat old man breaking into the fortress, someone they thought they could have a bit of blood-sport with. He sighed deeply. The events of the last few days had tired him, the plane ride had been particularly bumpy, and he was not in the mood for a full-scale fight. Oh well, he thought, best to get it over quickly. How lovely the poppies are, he thought, and how unusual to be blooming at this time of year. But the flower beds were in dire need of weeding, the beautiful pale-orange treasures were nearly choked to death. He bent to touch their delicate petals, deeply disappointed that this once extraordinary garden was in such a state of disrepair. As he drank in the scent, his senses blossomed, fully heightened and aware of the group of mercenaries moving steadily toward him, jaunting and threatening.
Unexpectedly, but very welcome to Lazarus, the leader of the posse group suddenly fell on his knees and touched his forehead to the ground. The rest of the guards looked on in amazement, then quizzically followed suit as their leader screamed at them in terror to kneel or be certain of never being resurrected again. Thank goodness, thought Lazarus, immensely relieved. He would be able to avoid at least one fight.
Jenkins emerged from the house. He was very drawn, his skin hanging loosely over his face, his once-sparkling eyes now weary and blank. Upon seeing Lazarus, he was momentarily reinvigorated, but it lasted only an instant before the weight of his own flesh seemed to press him down closer toward the earth, his back bowed in submission to his body's demands.
Lazarus moved quickly to his side, recognizing the signs. "Jenkins. Why is he doing this?"
"I imagine it's because I am becoming too old and no longer am of much use to the family. I expect that this is in fact what happened to my father as well."
"But Julius always kills."
"Yes, that's generally been true, but he is instead choosing to feed on me only once a day, very briefly, and never enough to kill me. Not yet, at least. He has relieved me of all other duties. He claims he has no time for the hunt and wishes to be certain of the quality of blood he is consuming. During his feeding ecstasy, he mumbles about preparing his flesh for new power." Jenkins labored to finish his last words, breathless with fatigue.
"Has he said anything else?"
"Strange words that I cannot understand. Mostly about Miss Vaughan and her blood, a new world order. I wish I was able to tell you more but it is very difficult for me to maintain consciousness during the feeding. He does occasionally mention Elita, cursing that she is of the serpent line."
"Jenkins, please forgive me. I never thought that Julius would stoop to using those in our service and under our protection for such a purpose. I would not have posted you here had I thought it would come to this."
"I served you well, did I not? I helped her escape."
"You have done more than I ever expected. We are all in your debt. And now I wish to repay you. Leave now. I will ensure that you have safe passage to the door. One of my men will take you to Dr. Philippi who will bring you back to health, to Adamite health. Then you shall have anything you desire."
"I have no wish or need other than to serve. It is my fate, my choice."
"I would be honored to have you in my personal service in New Mexico." For an instant, it looked as if Jenkins would cry, then he collected himself and started to move toward the compound's exit. "One more thing, Master Lazarus. Julius fainted during the turning of Miss Vaughan." Quietly, he turned and walked away. Lazarus watched until he was outside the compound.
"I would have given him to you. You needn't have stolen him," said a voice quietly from behind. Lazarus turned to find Julius smiling at him. "I've known for some time that he remained loyal to you. It was a personal game, seeing if I could sway him." He stepped closer and motioned for the prostrate Vampires to rise and disperse. "All this power sometimes makes existence a bit tedious and we, you and I that is, must invent games to entertain ourselves." Julius smiled demurely. "Alas, I realized I was not to win this one. Adamites can be so stubborn. So I changed the rules, changed the entire nature of the game. He has served me well these last few weeks. So few Adamites today lead such healthy lives. His blood is of a rare quality." Julius was glowing, his lips full and red, his skin radiantly pale, his hair dark and silky, his body trim and fit. Lazarus felt a pang of jealousy. How did the Vampire stay so damned thin? As if reading his mind, Julius said, "And you, you've gotten fat. How amusing."
Lazarus rolled his eyes in response and then said, "Let's go inside, Julius. We have much to talk about."
"Actually, Lazarus, I can sum it up in just a few words, and I'd prefer to do just that, to minimize the time I must spend in your presence. Correct me if I'm wrong. Our Queen has managed to make contact with you and is on her way to your compound.
You, in your quaint, chivalrous manner have decided to protect her. And you are here to threaten me in hopes of avoiding a showdown. Am I right so far?"
Lazarus didn't answer. He expected that it might be better to find out how much Julius knew before responding. History had taught him that Julius had always been a bit of a show-off. It had gotten him into trouble in the past and, perhaps, would do so now.
"I shall take your silence for assent, dear chap. But you shall fail." At this, Julius' tone turned acidic and his eyes burned with rage. "You beat me once before. I did not anticipate your displeasure with my plans. I won't make that mistake again. You have hidden her from me these last three decades out of spite, pure spite. Nevertheless, despite the intentions of you and her insipid mother, I have in fact succeeded in turning her. Thus, my pathetic, fat Vampire friend, you failed in the most critical part of her protection. All that is left is drinking her menses and she becomes totally irrelevant. You can have her when this is done. Do with her as you wish, make her your consort, eliminate her, I don't care. But be forewarned, nothing will stop me in my quest for her blood. It has been ordained. I am fulfilling the prophecy of Revelations."
"I will kill you first."
"Don't be ridiculous! You have been unsuccessful for centuries."
"You misunderstand. I have never tried to kill you. Until now, you have posed no real threat. You have been nothing more than a game for me, too. A means to combat eternal boredom. You have served a useful entertainment purpose. Now, however, I, too, am changing the rules. The stakes are too high. The accumulation of your atrocities merits your destruction. You have surrounded yourself with the very evil we are ordained to absorb. You have sickened the word of Susej," Lazarus said quietly but with depth of conviction.
"No," screamed Julius, enraged. "I have upheld his word while you have weakened it, infected it with the foolishness of the Adamites. We are not meant to balance good and evil for the sake of the Adamite world, the Adamites exist for our desires.
Good is weak. Evil is strong. In the final battle, we will, we must vanquish the Adamite world. With the Queen's blood, I shall have the power to do just that."
As if Julius had spat out his rage with the fury, he suddenly became very calm, self-possessed. "You pathetic man. You who are not even of the line of Susej, but a mere pawn of Jesus."
Lazarus shook his head. "My Father's house is a great house, as noble and as powerful as yours."
"You shall not stop me in this. You may have once, when I was young and foolish. But I have learned my lesson. This I have planned for the past 700 years while you, you slept in ignorance. Your Western solitude has softened you, left you weak." He pointed at Lazarus' prominent belly. "Proof that my plan is already implemented."
"I will hide her from you until the menses pass."
"You cannot hide her from me. I can smell her."
"What do you mean you can smell her? Vampires can only smell Adamite evil, or its absence in Vampires, not specific individuals."
"It was a power that came during the turning. At first, it was weak, and it did not help me in locating her when she escaped previously But in the last few days it has become very strong. I expect that it will continue to do so, and that by the time of her menses, I'll be able to find her anywhere in the world. While I certainly have no need of proving this fact to you, I shall do so simply for my own amusement."
"How?"
"I know where they are this exact moment. Sully will not make it to New Mexico. At least, not if he remains by her side."
Lazarus was immediately worried for Sully, but knew it would do no good to let Julius know this. Slow thoughts crept into his mind. Had he let sentiment get the better of him? He had loved Constance, and by extension Lizzie. He had optimistically, and now he feared, naively, thought Lizzie could live without detection. He realized now that he had made a fatal mistake in not turning her himself. He had allowed Julius to gain powers that he did not have. He said none of this, of course. He did have Lizzie physically and of her own volition, or at least he would very soon. That would count for something, and Julius had fainted during the turning. Was there a chink in his powerful armor that would allow Lazarus to dispense with him without harming anyone else in the process?
"She will be under my protection and will not under any circumstances be released to you," Lazarus said.
"I will allow her to stay with you until two days before her blood starts. Then I shall come for her. With my army."
"You will not succeed. If I must, I will kill her myself."
Julius scoffed. "Come now, we both know that you won't do that."
"Have you forgotten the past so easily?"
Julius laughed heartily before responding. "No, no, you need not remind me. Those events are forever etched in my mind. But you know as well as I that you have regretted that action ever since. You may have killed the only other woman to have this power in the last 700 years, but how it has haunted you. Elizabeth is different. She represents a chance for you to redeem yourself. You love her. You didn't even know the other one, despite the fact that she was your own daughter." Julius paused to gauge Lazarus' response to this painful memory, taking great pleasure in the emotional distress he was causing.
He continued in his reminiscences. "MaryAnne was such a sweet child, such a surprise that you birthed the power, you and your little messiah. She was so young, such gloriously golden eyes. I could have easily molded her to my will. She would have been an excellent figurehead. Her blood would have given me the world. I remember that night vividly You were still powerful, not yet flabby. The locals fled in terror as you and your men descended on the caves. I was caught unaware. When you sucked her dry of her blood just hours before it had the power, how she cried out to you, begging you to spare her. I even told you who the mother was and still you drained her as I watched helplessly. She didn't even know why. She had no idea that she had the power of uncreation in her blood; but then, neither did you. MaryAnne. You do remember?"
"Your assumption that I have any interest in reliving the past is grossly unfounded."
Julius laughed again and began to mimic the voice of the girl long ago killed. In a soft whisper he brought the memory vividly to life in Lazarus' mind. "Please, don't kill me. What have I done wrong? I want to serve you. I will love you if you'll let me."
Lazarus glared at Julius. Both knew that the murder of MaryAnne had been the greatest crisis in Lazarus' life. In those days, Lazarus had lived differently with greater decadence. He had kept a harem, small but adequate, and while he was very kind to the women and their offspring if they had any, he felt no bond. Julius had, unknown to Lazarus, taken a girl child from one of the women, the only girl child born of that line at the 700-year mark, raised her and then turned her at age thirty Lazarus had not even known that such a child had been born in his dominion.
Now, in a way, he had as much at stake as Julius. Julius wanted Lizzie's blood in order to create an empire. Lazarus wanted Lizzie's blood to prove that he had not killed his daughter in vain, that he had not spent the last few centuries watching a crazy Vampire who threatened the world only in his imagination. He wanted Julius to be something worthy of opposition, worthy of the amount of energy their conflict had demanded.
"In an odd way, I thank you for murdering that innocent nymph," continued Julius finally. "Back then, the world was still moralistically naive. I would have gotten very little support when I began the process of assuming control. Now, with the shift in morality away from religion and family, I will have no problem attracting Adamites into my service." Julius laughed. "Just think of it. The silly young things will be clamoring to have me turn them into Vampires. It will be far more - what's the word - cool, than a nose ring. The Adamitic world is so imbued with apathy Anything to excite their pathetic lives. As I told your dear Elizabeth, the time is right, and I shall seize it. Who knows, if I tarry, perhaps during that time a new and charismatic leader will emerge in the Adamitic world, giving everyone a reason to live again and giving me one headache after the next. It is so much easier to have willing victims, don't you think, Lazarus?"
Already, Lazarus was tiring of this game. He had changed in response to those events 700 years ago, had considered many things, had brought together strands of experience earned through many centuries into a wisdom, an understanding of the world and the morality necessary for its survival. Waiting Julius out had always been difficult to do; now it was even harder to listen to his infantile posturing, but he guessed that soon Julius would tip his hand.
"By the way, you couldn't kill Elizabeth Vaughan, even if you wanted to. Her power could be greater than either of us. She just doesn't know it."
"Impossible."
"The ancient voices speak through her. I heard them at the turning. Ask her."
Lazarus did not respond, but his mind was reeling.
"My moment has come, Lazarus. Nothing will stop me. I will come for her, this I swear, and I will take her and I will destroy anything that stands in my way."
"You will never get inside my fortress. I have an army at the ready."
"Please, don't insult the very notion of army My war machine is built of former Adamites who were by nature bloodthirsty and ruthless, and those of the Serpent tribe. Yours is a gathering of poets and judges. Who do you think will win?" Julius laughed.
Then, he turned and walked inside the house saying over his shoulder as he walked, "And really, Lazarus, lose the weight. You look ridiculous."
Lazarus turned and walked slowly toward the outer wall. The trip had been worth it. As he expected, Julius' ego had caused him to reveal his entire strategy, a tendency he had repeated through the ages, a flaw in all his plans. The ancient voices? They had not spoken through him since the time of his initial resurrection nearly two thousand years ago. As far as he knew, Julius had never heard them and did not understand their purpose or power. That is why he had fainted, Lazarus was sure of it. Only Susej, himself, and now Lizzie, had heard them. The voices would know what to do, they would be able to guide Lizzie. The voices to the past, he hoped, would be considerably stronger than his army of poets.
