Blood of Gold (20 page)

Marc saw light flowing around her, then saw shadow enclosing it. Then the shadow blinked out and a flare of light took its place. Back and forth the light and shadow flowed, creating a blurry whirlwind of color and void.

On the leaves and dirt of the clearing, a black and gold Pollack painting was being created as the blood of both fighters sprayed outward. A black globule hit Marc on the cheek, and it burned. He wiped it away. A gold drop hit him on the forehead, and it emboldened him for a moment.

Then there was stillness and quiet. The fighters broke apart and faced each other, breathing deeply. Their clothing was shredded and they were covered in wounds, which weren’t healing. Clarkson looked small in comparison to her opponent, and Marc realized that her spirit, which had appeared to make her his equal, had somehow been diminished.

He heard her speak, gasping, and realized she was talking to him. “I can’t win this, Marc. He’s too strong. Don’t try to fight them. You must flee. Tell Terrill what happened here. He has to know.”

“I will help you,” Marc said, desperation finally making him brave.

“No, Marc. Run.”

“But what about him?” Marc said, pointing at Feller, who looked like he was getting ready to join the fray.

Clarkson turned and gave the ex-FBI agent a mirthless grin. “I can hold them both back, Marc. But only for a short time. Run, damn you! If you stay, we’ll both be destroyed and the others will never know what happened here. Run!”

Marc backed away. Feller started after him. In a blur, Clarkson was on him, tearing into him. Feller cried out in alarm as pieces of his body landed on the ground, splattered with black.

As Marc turned to run, he saw an amused expression on the giant vampire’s face, as if he wanted to see what the outcome of this conflict would be and was willing to let Clarkson destroy his confederate to find out.

Feller was on his back, and Clarkson raised her claws to land a killing blow. Only then did the other Shadow Vampire react. She cried out in frustration as Kelton’s huge hands closed around her neck. Her claws ripped at his hands, but he held on. Her cries became more and more strangled as he squeezed, and the golden light that had pervaded the clearing began to dim.

Then Marc was running mindlessly toward the line of trees in the distance.

He stumbled, rolled and, amazingly, landed on his feet again, and kept running. Halfway to his goal, he glanced over his shoulder. He didn’t so much see two figures as two shadows pursuing him. Feller phased in and out of the darkness. He was limping and struggling to move, but both he and the other shadow kept coming, dark and relentless. Marc realized he wouldn’t reach the shelter of the trees in time, and even if he did, he doubted it would matter.

He gave up. All thoughts of escape abandoned him. A strange sort of peace came over him as he slowed and turned around.

He stood still, waiting. He wasn’t a brave man, as it turned out, but he could try to be brave in this last moment of existence.
The Testament of Michael
was written. He was pretty sure that was what he’d been put on this Earth to accomplish. His job was done.

As the shadows approached, he grew ever more still. He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

Darkness washed over him, then past him. He stood there for several moments more, but nothing happened. Confused, he opened his eyes. The other vampires had gone by him as if he wasn’t there.

He turned his head and saw the two shadows, with Feller dropping in and out of view, reach the trees. Then, as if they’d seen the movement of his head, they turned and rushed back toward him.

Again he held perfectly still, but this time with his eyes open. They thundered toward him like death itself, but faltered, slowed and then, only a few feet away, Feller and the large vampire stopped, looking perplexed.

“Where’d he go?” Feller asked.

“It must be their gold blood,” Kelton said. “It makes them invisible during the daytime, just as our blood makes us invisible at night.”

“Then he could be right here,” Feller said.

“Yeah,” Kelton agreed sarcastically, waving his hand at the hundreds of yards of meadow and the miles of forest beyond it. “Right around here somewhere. Why don’t you stick your arms out and start waving them around?”

Marc held his breath. That might actually work, though they didn’t know it. He had never been so still in his life. His muscles were starting to stiffen. He tried to relax, sensing that if he started quivering, they’d notice the movement. He thought back to the feelings of rightness that had washed over him as he wrote
The Testament of Michael.
He closed his eyes and tried to be invisible. A spirit, nothing more. A ray of light.

“Screw it,” Kelton said. “Let them come. If she was the best they got, we don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Don’t forget Terrill,” Feller warned.

“I ain’t forgetting him. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

Then they were moving away.

#

Long after they were out of view, Marc kept standing there, feeling at peace, knowing that he had time.
It is going to be all right,
he thought.
Light is stronger than shadow. I’m sure of it.

Then he remembered that last look on Clarkson’s face, and a shadow crept into his heart.

Sometimes the light is blocked
, he thought.
And the shadow hides beyond the light’s reach.

#

Simone and Rod kept driving until they were halfway to Brookings.

“Where are we going?” she asked finally.

“Hell if I know,” he said, slowing down. “I feel like a coward.”

“There wasn’t anything you could do,” she said. “You’re only human. If anyone could’ve helped, it should have been me. Maybe I should have stayed and fought.”

“No,” Rod said. “You saw her. That blonde woman was faster than any vampire I’ve ever heard of. She seemed to know how to fight, too. You wouldn’t have lasted a second. Besides, it was dawn.”

“Still… maybe I could have helped her.” Simone started crying.

“You couldn’t have helped,” Rod said, feeling helpless himself in the face of her tears.

“I know,” Simone sniffled. “I’m crying about Laura. I knew she was screwed up. Who wouldn’t be, after everything that happened to her? But I never thought she’d join
him
.”

Rod reached out and took her in his arms, and the gesture of sympathy sent Simone into another crying jag.

They drove north, over the border to Oregon and up the coast. Hours passed, and Simone finally stopped crying. She was half asleep when she felt the car slowing down. “What’s happening?” she asked.

“I’m heading back,” Rod said. “I think I know the place the blonde vampire was talking about. Maybe we can warn them.”

Simone nodded. “Yes. We have to try.”

#

They drove all the way back to Crescent City. There, beside the beach, was an abandoned, boarded-up motel with a restaurant attached. Rod pulled into the parking lot. The sun was sinking into the ocean. They waited until it disappeared under the waves and then got out of the SUV.

He knocked on the door to the office. As the last light of day faded, the door opened. A little girl stood there, blinking up at them. “You’re human,” she said. “You better not come in here.”

Simone stepped forward. “He’s mine,” she said.

“OK,” said the little girl, and opened the door wider. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Chapter 19

“You little weasel!” Peterson yelled. “I bring you all the way to London and this is how you repay me?”

“I’m sorry, but do you mind telling me what my crime is supposed to be?” Hoss asked.

Peterson fell silent and sat back down in his office chair. Hoss was standing, handcuffed, in front of a long desk, which was so polished that he half expected to see himself reflected in the surface. He shook his head. Sometimes he almost forgot he was vampire.

The guards had left the room, leaving the two of them alone together. They were in the president’s chambers, which were attached to the Council offices. A row of CCTV screens lined one wall, showing everything that was happening throughout the offices of the vampire complex.

One of the screens was blank, Hoss noticed.
Does Peterson know I released Fitzsimmons?

“You know damn well what you’ve done, Hoss,” Peterson continued in a more moderate voice. “You’ve been telling the world about us, exposing the Rules of Vampire to humans.”

“It’s not like they don’t already know,” Hoss said. He knew he shouldn’t be relieved that the charges were less serious than he’d expected, because they were still more than enough to get him in deep trouble. Not to mention true to boot. “I’m just trying to explain what the Rules are and how they can help.”

“
Never trust a human
,” Peterson said, quoting Rule One. “That Rule, above all others, must be obeyed. Disobeying is punishable by death.”

The door of the office opened. Councilor Combs entered, followed by two bodyguards. He stopped just inside the doorway, acting surprised. “What have we here?” the dapper vampire asked. “What are you doing to poor young Hoss?”

“I see your spy network is efficient, as usual,” Peterson said. He looked disgusted. “I heard you and Hoss were getting friendly.”

“Spy network?” Combs protested. “I was just dropping by! I must admit, however, I did hear a rumor. What has Hoss done this time?”

Peterson snorted. “Hoss has been telling the humans all about us without approval of the Council. He must be punished.”

“So he will be,” Combs said. “Friend or no friend, he will get what he deserves just as soon as the full Council has heard the charges. But we shouldn’t be too hasty. Perhaps we should wait for Fitzsimmons to return before we start condemning any more members to death.”

Peterson flushed and flashed a glance toward the empty screen. As if in response, one of his lackeys hurried into the room and whispered in his ear. Peterson’s eyes flicked toward Hoss and grew cold. “Check his apartment,” he said. “Find him.”

At his boss’s tone, the vampire nearly ran from the room.

Hoss tried to look unconcerned. If Fitzsimmons hadn’t recovered enough to make good his escape, they were both doomed. Hoss wasn’t sure it mattered. Peterson had apparently decided he was an unreliable ally and would be seeking the ultimate punishment in any case.

“Business doesn’t stop just because Fitzsimmons isn’t here,” Peterson said. “The Rules must be enforced.”

Combs sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that. I hope you don’t mind, but I have already called for a Council meeting,” he checked his wristwatch, “in about three hours.”

Peterson looked startled. “You called a meeting? You had no right!”

“Oh, and you do?” Combs snapped. “I never did see that letter of authorization for you to assume leadership.”

“I was elected vice president of the Council.”

“Strange, though, that Fitzsimmons is only contacting you, isn’t it?” Combs said. He walked over to Hoss and laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “Funny about Fitzsimmons,” Combs continued. “He was always so good at keeping in touch, cozying up to the membership. Always willing to press the flesh, give a speech, make a phone call. The consummate politician. Very odd that he should fall silent.”

“He’s been busy.”

“Yes, no doubt he’s been quite preoccupied.”

Both vampires turned to Hoss as if they expected him to say something.

“No doubt,” Hoss said, joining in the game and wondering why they were all bothering to be civil to each other. “I’m sure he’s up to his elbows in work.”
That is, if he has any elbows
, he thought.

Peterson frowned. “Very well, let’s see what the Council decides.”

#

A few hours later, the Council of Vampires was called to order. It was nearly a full session, since a regularly scheduled session was only days away. The members from South America and Australia wouldn’t arrive for another day, but since their votes usually cancelled each other out, that probably didn’t matter.

Peterson had the majority of votes on most subjects, but he couldn’t always get his way if the issue was contentious. Public exposure through new technology and media was something most of the Council, being composed of the oldest living vampires, didn’t fully understand. Because they didn’t understand it, they were more likely to trust the opinions of the younger vampires on such things.

They didn’t get much younger than Hoss.

He stood and made his case. Peterson had relented and taken off the handcuffs. For the first time, Hoss felt his youth. His adolescent voice faltered and broke embarrassingly. He thought he made some convincing arguments, but he could see that he wasn’t swaying anyone. Combs and maybe a couple of others were on his side––that was it. These vampires had remained concealed for so long that they simply couldn’t see that hiding wasn’t possible anymore.

“If we can’t remain secret, then it is up to us to shape the message,” he insisted. “We must attempt to make the humans understand that vampires don’t wish to destroy them all.”

“We don’t?” This came from the large Dutch woman, Belinda Hanson. She hadn’t liked Hoss from the start; that he was young and American seemed to be two strikes against him in her book.

“We certainly don’t want them to
think
that,” Hoss said, “whatever the truth. And is it not true that we don’t really wish to kill them all, but to keep them alive until we need them?”

“So you suggest that we simply lie to them,” Hanson scoffed, “and if we lie well enough, they’ll believe us? Surely even humans won’t be that easy to fool.”

“Some will, some won’t. Humans can be gullible. But isn’t it better to keep them docile, or at least in doubt?”

“The best way to keep them docile is to keep them ignorant,” Peterson insisted. “President Fitzsimmons has been very clear about this.”

At the mention of Fitzsimmons, there was an uneasy ripple around the conference table. More than one councilor had lost his or her life by defying Fitzsimmons, whereas Hoss had no power or influence. Peterson had always spoken for Fitzsimmons in all things.