End of Days (14 page)

I didn't care and said so. “I'm sorry about Inspector Johansson. I know he was a good friend.”

She didn't answer. She just wiped at her cheek with one hand. I hadn't noticed, but she'd been crying. I'd never seen her do this. Not in nine years.

“Is Charlie coming down?” she asked.

“No. I think he wants to talk to Suki. Things aren't too good for her right now.”

A quiet
hmmm
escaped her lips—as if she understood. “That will change. She needs more time.”

Or to become one of us,
I thought. I knew that was how Charlie felt. I didn't want to mention it, knowing Ophelia would disapprove. At least until we were clear of trouble. If we were ever clear of trouble.

“I don't feel right about Mr. Entwistle,” I said.

“I'm sorry. I don't think I ever forgave him for taking you away.”

“From the Nicholls Ward?”

“Yes. Putting all that fear into your head so that you ran off. You can't imagine how scared I was. I searched for days. In the end, I was so desperate, I turned to Vlad for help, and so I found you entirely by accident. All this time, in the back of my head, I'd blamed him for all that worry. If he hadn't shown up . . .”

I never knew this. Of course, we never talked about it. We'd both assumed Mr. Entwistle was dead, so there seemed to be no point in blaming him for anything. “I think his intentions were good,” I said. “I think they are now.”

“I can't risk it, Zachary. I can't. . . . I'm sorry. There is an evil in some men, and no matter how hard they try to bury it, to cover it with new clothes and good manners, it stays.” She looked me straight in the eye. “And I ought to know.”

I couldn't argue with that. She'd once been married to a man who'd impaled people by the thousands. I never understood how she could have loved him, but I wasn't going to ask now. I was hardly an expert when it came to relationships. I'd fallen for Luna so fast, I'm still not sure what really happened.

“The sun is going to be up soon.” She raised her head from my shoulder and walked over to a sofa that was sitting adjacent to a gas fireplace. We sat. “I need you to understand the trouble we're in.”

“With this thing—Mr. Hyde.”

“That is part of it.” She drifted away again, chewing the inside of her cheek. Her eyes were deep and unfocused.

“Would you rather wait?”

She shook her head. “I just don't know where to start.”

I was going to recommend the beginning, but I held my tongue.

“When Vlad disappeared last summer,” she began, “it sent shock waves around the world. Before him there was nothing. No order. No law. No safety. Not for our kind. You can't imagine how terrible it was. . . . But he changed all that. The Coven of the Dragon changed it. And now that he is gone, all the jackals he chased into the shadows are free to run amok, and his generals—the elder vampires—are fighting amongst themselves.”

“What does this have to do with us?”

She took a deep breath. “Everything.”

That didn't tell me much. I waited. She sat thinking. I knew our time was short. The sun would be up in less than half an hour. “Have you learned anything about that creature?” I asked.

“Not enough. I wondered at first if he was an agent of the Coven, but I think not. I have spoken with other vampires who agree. They are all scared. Or they were.”

I didn't know Ophelia was in touch with other vampires. “Can't we team up with them? Get more help?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he's killed them all.”

She looked at me with a flat expression on her face. But underneath, I could see she was trying hard to keep herself level. I remembered what Inspector Johansson had said, that other vampires had disappeared—good ones. No wonder she was so rattled. It was all the more reason to get help from Mr. Entwistle.

“Do you think we can beat it?”

Ophelia reached down and straightened the folds of her dress. “I don't know if it matters.”

That made no sense to me, and I said so.

“Have you read The Book of Revelation?”

“From the Bible?”

“Yes.”

I shook my head.

“It predicts that two Beasts will emerge, who, along with Satan, form an unholy trinity that will try to usurp control of the earth from God, His son, and the Holy Ghost. The Bible predicts that good will triumph in the end. That God will reestablish Himself as the absolute holy sovereign. Many vampires believe a similar cycle will occur in our world, but the ending isn't so certain. Order will fall into chaos and a new order will emerge. This creature you call Mr. Hyde is a being likened to the Beast of the Apocalypse, and so whether we beat it or not, many have taken it as a sign that the destruction of the old order is upon us.”

“Do you believe it?”

She looked at me, thinking, then gazed out the window. “It is hard not to believe it because it is happening. When Vlad was nearly destroyed last year, and disappeared, it was the first sign that the old order was failing. Now, his Coven is infighting and impotent, and the Underground is falling apart as a result. The appearance of Mr. Hyde is a sign to many that the destruction of the vampire world as we know it is at hand. Already, he is international news in the vampire world.”

“Is this what Mr. Entwistle meant when he said a war has arrived? The End of Days?”

Ophelia nodded. “Vlad held the Coven together with an iron fist. Now that he is gone, the others are fighting for control. Most of this is happening overseas, so we've managed to stay clear of it. But the Coven has an interest in you. John is right. They will come for us.”

“Because I'm a child vampire.”

“Partly. But there's more to it than that. It has to do with your fathers.”

She paused, so I could digest the word
fathers.
I knew what she meant. Every vampire has two kinds of parents. The normal human variety—and the vampire that turns them.

“You are Vlad's progeny,” Ophelia continued. “And so they will fear you, because in time, you will come to have his power. But the Coven also feared your true father. And they fear you, because of him.”

When she spoke about my true father, her voice changed. It always did when she talked about him—Dr. Robert Douglas Thomson, archaeologist and vampire hunter. I once thought that she must have loved him, but I wasn't so certain now. It might simply have been that she felt sorry for me. For my loss.

I felt her eyes on me again. Did she want to know if I believed her? Well, of course I did. Ophelia never lied. Never. So I believed her even when she didn't make any sense.

“I don't understand. Why would anyone fear my father? Or me?” This might seem like a stupid question considering my father's secret profession. But he never killed vampires, no matter how far gone, without giving them a chance to prove that they could be good—that they could live with the infection and not harm others. It made no sense that they would be afraid of him. He wasn't a threat unless they chose to do wrong. And I was seven when he died. Who would fear a boy that young? Only army ants and babysitters.

Ophelia managed a brief smile. It flickered across her face, then disappeared as she looked away. “The answer lies in an ancient prophecy. It concerns a messiah. A vampire who will overthrow the old
order, emerge from the ashes of chaos, and recreate a new world. A better world.”

Was this about the letter that Charlie and I had read the night of our arrest? About the Lamb? “What does this have to do with me?”

Ophelia sighed. “According to most versions, the future messiah of the vampire world is an orphan, the son of a great hunter. And this orphan would die and come back. Does any of this sound familiar?”

I caught myself swallowing hard. It was familiar. It fit neatly with what I'd read in that letter Charlie and I had found—about the sun scorching me with fire. And a second death that wouldn't harm me. That had happened last year. Death and rebirth.

I told Ophelia about reading the letter. “Do you believe what it said?”

“I'm not a prophet, Zachary. But there is something compelling in all of this. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Vlad felt it, too. It was why he wanted you all to himself.” Her eyes got their far-off look again.

My mind drifted back to
that night.
Vlad had wanted to kill my friends. To sever all of my personal connections so that the only future I had as a vampire was with him. And he'd wanted me to suffer, thinking it would make me stronger.

Ophelia stood up and stretched. She lifted the thin, white curtain hanging in front of the bay window and peeked outside at the sky, then across the street. “So you see why we're in trouble? It isn't just the Beast. It's the prophecy. All of the elders know about it. And so every power-hungry vampire who wants control will regard you as a threat because you are the orphaned son of a great vampire hunter. And you have died twice. Even if you weren't a child vampire, they would hunt you down. It is the only way they can ensure that you don't rise up against them, as the prophecy predicts.”

I was stunned. I'd always known there were reasons for secrecy, but in the back of my mind, it was a temporary thing, based on my
age. How much longer could I be considered a child, especially if I demonstrated I was stable and wouldn't attract attention or spread the virus carelessly? But if I was some kind of messiah—how could I outgrow that? I couldn't. I'd be stuck with it forever, even if it wasn't true, and it didn't seem to me that it was possible. I couldn't even keep my socks sorted.

“That makes no sense.”

“That you're a messiah.” Ophelia laughed quietly. “Chosen to establish and rule the new order.” She reached down and took my hand, then helped me off the sofa. “Stranger things have happened. But if the End of Days for our kind is here, someone will emerge as the leader of a new Coven, because such an organization is necessary. And given what I know of our kind, I would much rather see you in charge than anyone else.” She looked at me and smiled, then reached up and pinched my cheek. “But maybe that's just my prejudice.” She glanced back at the window.

I could feel dawn approaching. It filled me with a mild unease.

“I think we should talk more about this later,” she said.

I wasn't quite ready to end the conversation. I felt exhausted, but I knew I wouldn't sleep well until my questions were answered. “What are we going to do about Mr. Entwistle?”

“I wouldn't worry about him for today. I'm sure he can look after himself.”

“But are we going to let him stay with us?”

“I don't want to have to decide anything just yet. I need to think about this a bit longer. He might be right. We might need him.” She looked up at me. “I don't trust him, Zachary.”

“Because of who he was?”

She nodded. “If you could have seen it—the things he did as John Tiptoft.”

Well, I didn't know anything about that. I didn't want to. I liked him as John Entwistle. So did Charlie. And I think my father would have liked him. Luna, too. I'd never seen a hint of malice in him.

“I can't afford to take any chances, Zachary.” Ophelia was watching me closely.

“So what are we going to do?”

She smiled, and shrugged. I couldn't remember her ever doing that. She always had a plan. And a backup plan. And a backup to the backup plan. Order. Routine. Structure. Careful planning. I fully expected that if an asteroid hit the earth and civilization ended, she'd have a spaceship handy and our destination mapped out on sticky notes.

“We'll talk some more later. Does that sound all right?”

I nodded and headed for the stairs. If I hurried, there might be enough time to call Luna. It had been a heavy night. I wanted to hear her voice. I was certain that would lift my spirits.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked.

Just a few minutes on the phone,
I thought. And some blood would have been nice, but if she'd had any, she would have offered it by now. “No, but thanks.”

“Sleep well. And try not to worry too much.”

I said I wouldn't, which I hoped was true, then went upstairs to check on Charlie.

When I found him, he was lying sideways across his bed with his head hanging upside down over the edge of the mattress, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

“It's Zack. Just a second,” he said to the person on the other end. Then he pulled the bottom of the phone away from his mouth. “What's up?”

“The Beast of the Apocalypse is on the loose and every power-mad vampire in the world wants to kill me.”

“So nothing's changed?”

“I guess not. Is that Suki?”

“Yup.”

“Is she doing all right?”

“Well, she's talking to me, isn't she?”

“Is Luna handy?”

Charlie repeated the question to Suki, then waited. A few seconds later he shook his head. “She went to bed. But apparently, she expects to see you in her dreams.”

“Lucky me.” Then I backed out the door and pulled it closed behind me.

Growing up as an orphaned vampire in a mental institution, I missed out on a lot of things. Suntanning. Family picnics. Hand-me-down clothes. Popsicles. The list would fill an encyclopedia. Well, one of the things I'd missed out on was the thrill of nightmares.

As a little kid I got them all the time—lost dreams, being-chased dreams, scary-monster dreams, not-having-my-costume-ready-for Halloween dreams, Santa-missing-my-house dreams. But in the Nicholls Ward—nothing. Not a single nightmare. I understood now that this was Ophelia's doing. She walked the Dream Road to keep me safe, even while I slept.

So I was caught off guard when I found myself back at Iron Spike Enterprises, the office of my uncle Maximilian, having a nightmare. This was where my friends and I had been tormented by Vlad. Now, I was alone with the paintings and the statues and the antiques, the desk and the couch and the shattered windows. Everything was just as we'd left it.