Blood in the Marsh (19 page)

“She talked him into taking her to get ice cream. They should be back in a few minutes. Come on over here.”

Lyra hesitated, her eyes taking in his appearance. She saw the tight muscles of his abdomen and the curly black hair that swirled over his chest and thought to herself what a sexy body he had. She still couldn’t understand why she wasn’t overjoyed at the idea that she held his interest or why she seemed to have less trust in him with each passing day.

“Come on,” he gestured to her.

She took a seat on the couch beside him, curling up with her feet beneath her and reclining against the deeply padded throw pillow.

For a little while, they watched the movie. Lyra was not prepared when he turned and took her in his arms to kiss her. She held back and he pulled away, searching her eyes.

He tried again.. His lips moved to her neck then traveled to the hollow of her neck. When he moved lower toward her breast, panic rose and she pushed him away. Nick sucked in a deep breath as he sat and raked his hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” she said.,.

“It’s okay. Don’t apologize.” His voice didn’t match the words he spoke. It was clear he was annoyed. She started to get up but he caught her hand to stay her.

“How about I fix us a big bowl of popcorn and we watch an old western?”

Lyra forced a smile to her face. “Make that popcorn and an old Bogart movie and you’re on.”

Nick grinned and got up, headed for the kitchen. Lyra sank back on the couch, cradling a throw pillow against her chest. She needed to figure out why her feelings were so mixed up about Nick, why she couldn’t relax around him, and why any sexual excitement he managed to provoke in her was so laced with fear.

And she realized as an image of Michael came to mind, she really needed to figure out how she was going to stop herself from falling any harder for her best friend’s guy.

Chapter Seven

Sunday Morning—Sea Island

Lyra stirred in her sleep, feeling the wind from the opened window cool her damp skin. She heard the sound of distant thunder and the sound of a voice calling her name. Blinking she looked around. The clock on the nightstand told her it was only three in the morning. Aside from the dim illumination cast from its glowing blue numerals, the room was dark. She pushed herself up and looked around.

“Lyra.” The whisper sounded from the sitting area across the room.

She peered into the darkness, at first seeing only more darkness. Then shapes began to swim into focus and she saw the silhouette of someone sitting on the settee.

“Nick?”

No sooner had she spoken, the figure shifted position and her breath caught in her throat. “Lucius?”

“Lyra, you must read the diary. You must discover the truth. Do not delay for there are those who will try to take the truth from you. Those who will try to distort the truth. Trust me, Lyra, and do as I say.”

Lyra hesitantly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring intently at the shadowy figure. “Lucius, is it really you?”

The figure didn’t reply and she stood, taking one step toward it. It rose and she saw the outline and gasped. “It is you! But how? I thought you were dead. What are you doing here?”

A soft sigh reached her ears. “Remember what I said.”

Then the figure was gone. Lyra felt sweat run down her back and her hands felt clammy and wet. Her heart was beating double-time and she felt as she had when she was a little girl and had awakened from a bad dream. She wanted to scream so that someone would come turn on the lights and make her feel safe. But she was also curious. Taking one more look around the room she went back to the bed and felt behind the headboard. The diary was still there. She lay down with it clutched to her chest, thinking about what she and Nick had read earlier. Her eyes grew tired and she closed them, thinking that she would rest for a few minutes. The next thing she knew sunlight was streaming into the room.

She sat up and looked at the window. It was closed and locked. A frown crossed her face. But it was open! I felt the wind and heard the thunder. She shook her head and went into the bathroom to shower. She had not opened the window before she went to bed, but she knew it had been opened during the night. She distinctly remembered hearing the thunder and feeling the wind.

Could it have been just a dream? She stepped out of the shower and looked at her refection in the mirror. If it had been a dream, it was certainly the most lucid one she had ever experienced. And it had not felt like a dream; it had felt real. But there was no way Lucius could have been there. He was dead.

She climbed back in bed and opened the diary. Reading quickly, she scanned the contents, making a mental note to go back over certain parts later. What she read both shocked and scared her. But it also excited her. This was the biggest thing that had ever happened. If she could get to the bottom of it, it would be like discovering the cure for cancer—in the parapsychology world.

She made the bed and tucked the diary under her pillow once more then walked downstairs. The house was quiet and no one else was up yet. Going into the kitchen, she started coffee and poured a glass of juice. Sitting down at the table, she stared out of the kitchen window.

Nick looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The rage danced in his eyes. It’s cause was simple: Lyra had once more pushed him away. Aside from claiming her to move closer to the ultimate prize, he found himself wanting her for more intimate reasons. When he closed his eyes, he could see images of her dancing in his mind. He didn’t know how long he could fight he desire he felt for her. And yet he could not take her by force.

He pushed back the rage, forcing it under control. Satisfied that no vestiges remained in his eyes, he knocked on the back door. She opened it within moments.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“I had the strangest dream.”

“Really? So did I.”

“Want some coffee?”

“Sure, but I can get it.”

She took a seat at the table. “What did you dream about?”

“Lucius.”

Lyra choked on her juice and grabbed a napkin to dab at her face. Nick turned from the counter with the coffeepot in his hand. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and cleared her throat. “You dreamed about Lucius?”

“Yeah, it was strange. I dreamed he was in my room and he told me to read the diary but to be sure and look for the meaning between the words.”

Lyra shivered as if a cold wind had blown through the room. She shook her head then rubbed her temples and closed her eyes for a moment.

“I did too. He—”

An alarm went off in her mind, something that stopped the words from forming. She could not explain it but she knew that she could not tell Nick what Lucius had said to her in the dream. She had to keep it and everything about the diary to herself, until she knew what it all meant.

“He told me not to take the diary too seriously and to remember all the tall tales he told me as a child.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed for a moment and she looked away. She never had been a good liar. And even though she wasn’t proud of lying to Nick, she knew she had to. Lucius was trying to tell her something and she had to pay attention. What little she had read in the diary let her know that she was delving into something beyond anything she had ever imagined to be real.

Seeing the way Nick looked at her, she sought to cover her lies with partial truths. “What we read is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. I don’t know if it can possibly be true or not, but I’m going to find out. And the first thing I have to do is go to North Carolina and get my computer and reference books from my apartment. Then I’ve got to go to the university and do some research.”

“Okay, but if you’re going, I’m going with you. But before that, I think I’d like to read that diary for myself.”

That was the one thing she did not want him to do. But he was staring at her, waiting for her to agree. After a moment she nodded. She saw no way to refuse without making it seem as if she didn’t trust him. Besides, from what she had read, the next few entries could be revealed without giving away anything of a personal nature.

She had him wait in the hall while she retrieved the diary. Sitting side-by-side propped against the massive carved headboard, they spent the morning reading the entries.

LuciusLuciusLuciusLuciusLuciusLucius’s diary took them on a bizarre and terrifying trek through history. From Lebanon, they traveled to Turkey, during the reign of the Seljuk Empire. There Alkharad’s first order of business was to obtain a new, young body. It took him almost a month before he found the right candidate. Locating a virgin was far less of a bother. Then it was only a matter of days before Alkharad became Ismail Bihzah.

Using his vast intellect and considerable persuasive talents to deceive and control weaker minds, he set himself up in luxury, gathering around him a considerable following. Thanks to the bloodbath of the Crusades, which still waged, his followers had no difficulties in procuring victims to satisfy his needs and ensure his continued health and prosperity.

He remained in Turkey until just before the turn of the century. In 1192, Ismail left, appointing one of his most trusted followers to maintain the loyalty of the group whose membership was passed down from one generation to the next. He traveled to Bulgaria, having inside information that soon it would once again enjoy the status of becoming a major Balkan power.

Along the way, he happened upon a wealthy young man who was journeying with his fiancé and her maiden aunt. They were bound for the man’s home in Bulgaria where they were to be married. Seeing the opportunity so fortuitously dropped in his lap, Ismail took advantage of it. He arrived in Bulgaria as Boris Vazor, a handsome and wealthy young man. With him was an older, but apparently devoted woman by the name of Merris. Together they set up a new order of followers, one composed of wealthy and powerful people who were easily seduced by the promises Boris made.

After many years, and many several generations Boris grew weary of Bulgaria. Through his network of spies he became aware of a new and exciting opportunity; one far too irresistible to pass up. During the early part of the 13th century, Romania was taking its first steps toward unification. The citizens of the region known as Walachia had united and formed an independent state under the rule of one man, a powerful and charismatic young Prince.

Boris sent an emissary to the Prince, offering both his financial and political support, which at the time was considerable. He received a message, issuing an invitation for him to visit the Prince at his castle in Walachia. Boris gladly accepted and left his Bulgarian following under the leadership of a well-chosen man. He took with him on the trip a trunk of clothes, a chest of gold and jewels, and a lovely young virgin by the name of Ciera.

The Prince greeted him royally, ordering a feast to be prepared in his honor. Boris humbly declined, pleading infirmity of age, but requested that the Prince dine with him and Ciera alone in his chambers. Not wanting to lose the support Boris had offered, the Prince accepted.

The next morning the Prince didn’t appear until late. Everyone noticed at first glance that his handsome face wore an unaccustomed sneer and his voice was harsh and arrogant. He ordered the servants to go to Boris’s room and remove his corpse, informing them that the old man had died during the night.

The servants obeyed without question, but wondered among themselves what had happened to the lovely young woman. No trace of her was ever found, but there were bloodstains on the thick rugs and walls of the room.

Rumors abounded through the castle and into the countryside, the story growing more horrid with each telling. But that tale was nothing compared to what was to come. The Prince’s name, Vlad Tepes would be remembered throughout the long course of history; whispered in fear and revulsion. The Impaler, the Destroyer, and the Dragon were but a few of the names he was called. But the most memorable was a name that was to be equated with him many years later when an imaginative writer based the character of his book upon the life of Vlad. That name would never be forgotten. Dracula.

Lyra put the diary down and rubbed her eyes. She looked over at Nick who was staring across the room with a frown on his face. “What do you think about this?”

Nick turned and looked at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Nick? You don’t believe this, do you?” she asked.

He stood up and walked across the room to stand in front of the window. Lyra walked over and stood beside him and he looked down at her. Finally, he sighed and looked out of the window. “I’d like to tell Michael about this. I think he needs to know.”

“That’s fine. We can tell him together.”

“No, I need to do this alone.”

“But…” she started to protest. He looked at her and when she nodded silently he started out of the room.

“Nick?”

He stopped and turned to her. “Do you believe this?”sShe asked softly.

“Lyra, there’s a lot of things we don’t know anything about, a lot of hidden things. That’s the real magic. What we see is only the surface of things. Just like a magic trick, the essence of the thing is always hidden beneath the surface. That’s the secret, you know. Life is the greatest magic trick of all. What we see and what we think we know is seldom the way things are.”

Lyra gave him a curious look but didn’t comment. Nick turned and left the room. Lyra watched him from the doorway as he stopped and knocked on Michael’s door. After a moment, it opened and she heard the low murmur of voices. A few seconds later Chelsey came out of the room with her robe belted around her.

She saw Lyra standing at the end of the hall and raised her eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

Lyra walked down the hall and took Chelsey’s arm. “Why don’t you get a shower and I’ll start breakfast. I think you should be wide awake when I tell you what I found.”

As Chelsey headed for the shower, Lyra made sure the diary was securely tucked away. He might be gone but her loyalty to Lucius remained as firm as ever. She would protect whatever secrets he had to share.

Sea Island

It was midafternoon before Nick and Michael came downstairs. Lyra and Chelsey were in the back of the house where Lyra had cleared out one of the rooms to make a space they could exercise. She was doing sit-ups while Chelsey was polishing her nails a bright pink.

Michael stuck his head in the door and Lyra jumped up. He looked tired, as if he’d been up all night. His eyes had a darkness around them and his entire body seemed tense. She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going to get a shower and then grab a sandwich. How about meeting me in the den in twenty minutes. There’s something we need to talk about. Actually, something Nick and I need to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“You too, Chelsey,” he added before he walked away.

Lyra looked at Chelsey and Chelsey frowned. “This shit’s getting too damn weird for me, Lyra! I mean, surely you don’t believe all that vampire stuff?”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore. I mean, I’ve read all about people who have strange fixations on things like that, believing that they really are vampires and werewolves. But it’s always some psychological manifestation due to trauma or mental illness. If you had asked me that question a week ago, I would have answered unequivocally that there is no such thing. But now, now I’m not so sure.”