Jack Templar and the Lord of the Vampires (23 page)

“
T
hat’s one way to make your appearance,” Pahvi said behind me. He was smiling, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Now let’s hope Shakra says something to them.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” I said.

“I don’t,” Pahvi replied. “I’m just afraid they might drain my blood in the feeding frenzy.”

The nearest vampires grew bolder and took a few quick steps forward. The ones behind surged with them, pushing and shoving. A tidal wave of black shapes poured toward us.

“Khalass!” boomed Shakra’s voice over the crowd, sounding amplified by enormous speakers. I recognized the word from our time in Morocco. It meant
stop
in Arabic. Every vampire in the cave froze in place, some in midstride, their dirty, claw-like hands reaching out toward me. “Tawwel balak,” she purred. “Tawwel balak, my lovelies. This is a special guest. A very special guest.” She motioned to Pahvi. He nudged me out of the way and took the lead.

“Follow me and stay close,” he said. “They look like they are in control, but it’s only by a thread. Some are completely insane.”

The mob parted for Pahvi, and I followed him through the cave. “What was that she said,
Tawwel balak
?”

“Have patience,” Pahvi replied. “She wasn’t telling them they couldn’t have your blood, just that they couldn’t have it yet.”

“That’s comforting,” I said.

We snaked our way through the crowd and mounted the steps to the stage until I came face-to-face with Shakra. Well, at least face-to-mask. Up close, I could see only her eyes through the two small openings, not enough to give me any idea of her expression as she sized me up. I looked past her at Eva. She looked conflicted, mostly angry. But I saw flashes of begrudging relief that I was there.

“So, you are the great Jack Templar,” Shakra said. “I thought you would be…different.”

“Funny, your master Ren Lucre said the same thing to me when I met him,” I said. “That’s the same night I defeated him in battle.”

“My father was always a bit careless when fighting,” Shakra said, her voice betraying no emotion whatsoever.

This revelation took me off guard. “Ren Lucre is your father?” I asked. I’d counted on rivalry between the two vampire lords. I never expected them to be family. Getting the Jerusalem Stone, while already nearly an impossible proposition, seemed to slide farther from my grasp.

Shakra ignored my question and walked slowly around me. “You’ve caused quite a stir among the Creach, young Templar. No one is sure what to make of you.” I noticed Pahvi bowed his head low as she passed him. “Some think you pose a great threat to the Creach and should be eliminated at once. Others believe the threat is overstated, and you are nothing but a weak little boy, barely in need of shaving yet.” A low laugh passed through the gallery. “Still others believe you might be an opportunity.”

Once she completed her orbit, she stood in front of me. I wondered if I could reach the cylinder, pull Gregor’s dagger, and complete an attack before she stopped me. I doubted I would get as far as reaching for the cylinder before she struck me down. I had no choice but to stall.

“I came here to bargain with you,” I stated.

Shakra cocked her head. She spoke to the crowd. “He says he comes to bargain with me.” Laughter rippled through the vampire mob. “All right, young hunter, let’s hear your bargain.”

“I want my friend Eva released and both of us guaranteed safe passage out of here to the surface.” I lowered my voice so that only she could hear. “And I want the Jerusalem Stone which I know is in your possession.”

“This is an odd bargain. I’m to give you your life and my most precious possession and get nothing in return,” Shakra said.

“Of course you will,” I said. I leaned forward and whispered. “I will deliver to you one last message from Ahmed el-Tayeb,” I said, using Gregor’s Bedouin name. “A message he gave to me right before his death.”

Shakra reared back and struck me across the face. Hot blood filled my mouth. The nearest vampires surged forward, sniffing the air and licking their lips at the scent of fresh blood. I’m not sure what kind of reaction I’d expected from Shakra, but a slap across the face didn’t even make the list. I looked up at her, but with the mask it was impossible to read her expression. I did notice her chest heaving as she breathed hard. I reached my hand to the cylinder, ready to make an attempt to get it out if she attacked. I didn’t like the odds, but it was the only chance I had.

“Bring him,” Shakra commanded. She turned and strode from the stage through a door cut into the rock wall.

Pahvi grabbed me roughly. I shook him off and ran to Eva.

“Are you all right?” I stammered.

“What are you doing here?” Eva asked, trying to appear angry but with tears welling in her eyes. “I’m not some damnable girl who needs saving.”

“I didn’t want you having all the fun,” I said. “I’m going to get us out of here.”

Eva laughed, looking down at the firewood piled around her feet. “I hope you have a better plan than what you’ve shown so far.”

“Only barely,” I grinned. “But I do have something.”

“A broken neck is what you’ll have unless you get moving,” Pahvi said behind me. He acknowledged Eva, who scowled at him. “I’m sorry you were put in this situation. If I had been here…”

“If you had been here what?” Eva snarled. “You would have invited me to become a vampire over a nice dinner and some wine? You’re a putz.”

Despite the seriousness of our predicament, I couldn’t help but laugh. I gave the confused-looking Pahvi a shrug. He pulled me away from Eva and forced me toward the door where Shakra had disappeared. Before we went through the door, he leaned in and asked, “What is this word, putz?”

I looked at him seriously. “It means someone who is irresistible because they are so handsome and charming.”

Pahvi’s face brightened. “Really?”

“No, not really,” I said. “Man, you really are a putz.” It was petty and out of place with the danger I was in, but the put-down felt good. It served a purpose too. I felt myself relax a little, able to gather my thoughts for the confrontation ahead. I steeled myself, knowing that failure was simply not an option, and walked through the door and into Shakra’s lair.

After a short tunnel with a series of open reinforced metal doors, I stepped into a different world. Instead of the bare rock and hard, cold surfaces in the cavern, Shakra’s lair looked like the inside of an aristocrat’s mansion. Soft, plush rugs covered the ground. Tapestries covered the walls, depicting medieval scenes of noble life. A fox-hunt. A masquerade ball. A scene of lords and ladies picnicking next to a tranquil river. Ornate tables and chairs, carved with cherubs and roses, mixed with brightly colored sofas and couches. There were even vases of fresh flowers put out on tables and ledges. A sunrise should light this type of room. Instead, torches lined the walls and a large fire blazed in the hearth casting an orange glow and filling the room with dancing shadows.

Shakra stood against the far wall, unmoving, looking out of place in her armor and mask.

“Leave us,” she commanded Pahvi.

“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea, with respect,” Pahvi said.

A hiss came from behind the mask. “Disobedience carries with it no respect, Pahvi,” she spat.

Pahvi bowed his head. “I will be outside.” He left the room.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I said. “Very pleasant.”

Shakra didn’t move. She stood frozen against the wall. “Tell me of this message.”

“Not quite yet. I need a few assurances from you first,” I said.

“Perhaps you misjudge how much this information matters to me,” Shakra said.

I shrugged and let the comment hang in the air unanswered. She’d reacted strongly to my mention of Gregor’s name. I was still alive, but it was true that I had no idea how far the promise of a last message from him would carry me. I felt the weight of the cylinder against my leg and knew Gregor’s message wasn’t the only bargaining chip I carried.

I tried not to show any of these thoughts or concerns as I walked farther into the room, looking for a way to put a piece of furniture between the two of us so I could pull the cylinder and the dagger from inside my clothes without her seeing. I’d seen how fast Pahvi could move, and I assumed Shakra would be faster still. The second she thought I was up to something would probably be my last second alive. If I was going to leave this room in one piece, I had to be careful.

“I think if you didn’t care I’d already be dead,” I said. I positioned myself behind a high-backed chair that blocked me from the chest down. Shakra remained against the far wall, unnervingly not moving an inch as she stared at me. I put one hand casually on top of the chair and went to work with the other one unstrapping the cylinder from my leg. 

“I don’t know about that,” Shakra said. “The female hunter would be a great asset to me as a vampire. But the last Templar? Think of what your vampire blood would be like. Think of the power.”

I worked the binding lose and slid the cylinder carefully out.

“Dark power, you mean? Used for evil?” I said, stalling again.

“Power is just power, young one. Gregor did with his what he chose. He joined the Black Watch to hunt and destroy his own kind. Is that evil?” she asked. “To you, perhaps not. To me?”

“It was betrayal,” I finished for her. I thought this might get a reaction from her, but she remained totally still. The eyeholes in her mask were black pits staring at me. But it didn’t matter. I had the cylinder out. I just needed a drop of my blood to open it. Only a few more seconds and I would have the upper hand.

“Yes, he betrayed his kind,” she agreed.

“No, he betrayed you,” I said, still trying to get a rise out of her. I squeezed the old cut on my hand and dripped blood on the Revealer. I heard a pop as it opened. I pulled the dagger out. “He wasn’t fighting vampires all those years. He was fighting you, desperate to hurt you any way he could for what you did.” Even this produced no motion from her. “But in the end, right before he died, he learned to forgive. His last thoughts were of you. He wanted you to know this.” Shakra didn’t move. Knowing the story, the words had to hurt. Even so, she stared at me with not even a turn of her head.

All at once, I realized I was a fool.

I spun around and faced Shakra standing behind me.

Somehow she had projected her voice across the room. I’d been talking to an empty suit of armor the entire time, an exact replica.

Lightning quick, she smacked the dagger from my hand and sent it flying across the room. She grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground, her arm fully extended. Her voice bellowed from behind her mask but also seemed to come from everywhere in the room.

“YOU DARE TO SPEAK THESE LIES TO ME? I AM SHAKRA, LORD OF THE VAMPIRES! YOU WILL TREMBLE BEFORE ME!”

Her voice was impossibly loud. I felt it deep in my body, dark and resonant. Even so, it was flat and devoid of emotion. That made it even more terrifying. I kicked and clawed at her hand around my throat.    

“You think you know everything, but you know nothing,” she spat.

She heaved me backward. I flew through the air like a rag doll, landed on a table, and it smashed under me, breaking my fall. I scrambled to my feet, my eyes searching for a weapon. Shakra paced back and forth on the far side of the room like a caged animal. The fact that she wasn’t attacking gave me a glimmer of hope. 

“I’m telling you the truth,” I cried.

“You’re just a boy. What do you know of the truth?” she replied, her voice cold and severe. “If truth is what you want, I have it for you. With all truth’s pain. And all truth’s heartbreak. If that’s what you came here for, then so be it.”

She raised her hands to either side of her mask and slowly lifted. First the chin, then her lips. She hesitated for a second. “Behold!” she cried. “This is what the truth looks like.” She lifted her mask off her head. Long hair fell to her shoulders, and she stared at me with bright blue eyes.

I staggered backward, clasping my chest, suddenly unable to breath. My head ached with a stabbing pain. Everything in my world, everything I knew to be true, everything I believed, all crumbled to ruins in a matter of seconds.

There, standing in front of me, in the armor of the Lord of the Vampires, was my mother.   

“
M
om?” My mouth formed the word, but only a shuddering breath came out. I staggered away from her, my legs buckling under me. “How…but you’re…” I didn’t know what to say. It was clearly my mother’s face. The same that had come to me when I died on the river before T-Rex resuscitated me. The difference was that then her features then had been soft and compassionate, so full of love and care. Now her eyes narrowed into a tight scowl. She looked dark and menacing, like something out of a nightmare.

This had to be a trick of some kind. Some magic used to exploit my weakness. Still, my mind reeled as she walked to where Gregor’s dagger had fallen and picked it up carefully. She turned it over in her hand like a long lost personal treasure, her fingers moving lightly over its surface.

“Do you not believe your eyes?” the vampire asked. “I assure you this is no disguise.”

When I’d first arrived in the cavern, Shakra had been ready to set Eva on fire, burning her alive at the stake for not agreeing to become a vampire. I couldn’t comprehend my mother doing that.

“You’re not my mother,” I mumbled. “You can’t be.”

“Where is your certainty now?” Shakra sneered. “And you think to tell me about my life. About Gregor. What can you know? You were just a baby when your father stole you.”

Stole me?
The idea rattled me even further, and I didn’t think that was possible. She read my expression.

“What did you think? That he rescued you like some hero?” Shakra said. “No, he stole you in the middle of the night like a thief.”

“But I saw you,” I whispered. “Don’t you remember? That night I almost drowned. You came to me.”

“I came to you?” the vampire said, her turn to be surprised. “And what did I say?”

“Don’t you remember?” I said, getting my feet back under me. “You told me my father was a good man and that I had to be brave. And you asked me to forgive you, but you never said for what.”

The vampire stared over my shoulder as if looking far beyond the walls of this room, perhaps at some past event only she could see. Her face remained impassive, nearly as unreadable as when she’d worn the mask. “Angelica,” she whispered. “You always were the better of us.”

I took a step toward her. “You’re not her, are you? You’re not my mother.”

The vampire jerked back as if I’d just snapped her out of the different time and place of her memory. She looked down at the dagger in her hands and then shook her head slightly. “No, I’m not your mother,” she said. “I have had many names, but my first was Caroline. Your mother was my twin sister.”

I felt a bizarre mix of emotions on hearing this. Relief that my mother was not this monster in front of me. But, monster or not, I’d felt for a few minutes that my mother was alive. A wave of grief from losing her all over again crashed down on me. But as it cleared, a new realization came. Something so large and horrific that the world around me seemed to teeter on edge.

The Lord of the Vampires was Ren Lucre’s daughter.

She was also my mother’s twin – my aunt!

I tried to stop my mind from making the final connection, building up a wall against it. It was no use. The truth clawed its way through and screamed at me.

Ren Lucre is my grandfather!

Yes, Templar blood flowed through my veins, but so did the blood of the Dark Lord, Ren Lucre.

I realized that others must have known the truth. Master Aquinas and Gregor. Perhaps even Aunt Sophie. It explained why Aquinas had been so cautious training me. Was there a chance that I would turn to Ren Lucre at the end and join him? Was she training her future enemy?

Shakra watched me as I processed these revelations. She looked curious, as if interested whether the load of this news was going to prove too much for me, and I would start babbling like a lunatic. Honestly, I felt inches away from doing just that.

As always, it was concern for my friends that grounded me back to reality. Eva was still tied to the post in a cavern with hundreds of famished vampires. I didn’t even know where Will, T-Rex, Daniel, and Xavier were. I hoped they were in the tunnels following the path I had left for them, but I worried that they might be in trouble.

So I had both Hunter and Creach blood beating through my heart. I could live with that. My grandfather was the evil overlord of all the Creach, and he wanted to kill me. Got it. The Lord of the Vampires was my mother’s twin sister. Check.

My brain slowly settled into accepting this new order of things. I would need time later to sort through all the weird emotions I felt from this news, but I didn’t have that luxury right now. I suddenly realized I was hunched over like someone had punched me in the stomach. I didn’t know how long I had been like this. One minute? Five? Ten? I took a deep breath, stood up straight and squared my shoulders. I looked Shakra right in the eye. I didn’t need to say anything. She knew the news hadn’t broken me.

“You are strong,” she said. “I’ll have you know that comes from our side of the family.”

“Can you tell me about my mother?” I asked. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Shakra shrugged. “I can tell you what I know, but in exchange for what you said earlier. About Gregor.”

I felt the side of my face where she had slapped me earlier. It still stung to the touch. “You promise not to hit me again?”

“Do we have an agreement or not?” she demanded.

I nodded.

“Good. I will tell you what I know. Only the broadest strokes, mind you. How else to tell a story that takes place over a thousand years?”

“That’s fine with me,” I said. “But first, will my friend be all right out there?” I nodded toward the tunnel.

Shakra thought about it. “They obey me on pain of death, but some are so far gone even that doesn’t keep them at bay. Pahvi will let me know if things get unruly. Sit and hear the story of your family.”

I chose a chair as far from Shakra as possible, my skin crawling from her use of the term family. Still, I desperately wanted to know what she was about to tell me. As worried as I was about Eva, I forced myself to sit and listen. Shakra placed the Veritas dagger on the table in front of her and began her story.

“My father was a good man, a noble in the south of France in a time when that meant something special. This was the end of the tenth century, the year 999 to be exact. Just as would happen later in your modern world in 1999, the world was caught up in foolish paranoia that the world was about to end. But in my time, superstitions ran more deeply than now.

“Common people still believed in witchcraft, in demons, in dark shadows that came in the night to steal their children from their beds. And not only the common people. The clergy predicted the Biblical apocalypse was upon us, scaring people even more.

“This created great instability in the social order. If men do not fear punishment, they do not obey. Before long, roving hordes of thieves and bandits ranged across the land with no allegiance to Lord or God. The world was building toward chaos.

“Many nobles, even princes and kings, fled their lands for safety. My father, your grandfather, refused to do so. He was proud and brave, but that wasn’t why he stayed. My mother was pregnant and due in less than a month. He had only daughters, and he hoped for a son. Travel was dangerous for her, so we stayed in our castle and prepared as best we could.

“But unknown to any of us, my father turned to the dark arts to arm himself against the changing world. My mother never would have allowed it if she had known. She was devoutly religious and would have preferred to die rather than be involved in the darkness my father brought into our lives.

“Aquinas told me part of this story,” I said. “He put up a massive reward for the capture of a live vampire.”

Shakra nodded. “One was not captured, but one came nonetheless. VitasVitus, an ancient devil, older than I am now. He had seen the Roman Empire rise and fall. Seen the Library of Alexandria in Egypt burn to the ground. Witnessed the Dark Ages as Man slithered back into his cloak of ignorance and superstition. It was VitasVitus who came to kill the mad French nobleman, Ren Lucre, who had a price on the head of a live vampire. But your grandfather was no fool–”

“Don’t call him that,” I interrupted, giving away more emotion that I meant to. I had just given Shakra a gift by revealing how much it bothered me, but I couldn’t stand the sound of the words.

She grinned but nodded her acquiescence. “My
father
,” she restated, “was no fool. He drew VitasVitus into a conversation about all that the vampire had seen and learned over his centuries of existence. Over three days and nights, the old vampire shared his tale. Your mother and I snuck into our secret spot in the main hall where they spoke and listened for hours. Horrified but mesmerized. 

“You see, your mother and I were unique twins. Somehow, in the womb, emotion and logic had separated between us. Your mother felt everything in fierce waves of emotion, both her own and for others. Listening to VitasVitus’s story was excruciating for her because she felt every tragedy he described, every heartbreak, every joy. Over and over, she was brought to tears by the story.”

“But not you,” I said.

“No, logic and reasoning were my strengths. I analyzed his journey through history. Used it to make inferences about the nature of Man. Calculated how my father would respond at the end of the story. But my calculations proved to be wrong. To me, there was no challenge to the logic of immortality. How could death ever be a better option than living forever? But both your mother and your grandfather…” She let the word hang in the air just long enough for me to know it wasn’t an accident. “I mean, my father, they both ended up absolutely horrified by the high price of immortality.”

“You mean the damnation of your soul?” I asked.

“No, that idea is subjective, depending on your beliefs. What they saw was the undeniable price of outliving your entire family. Seeing every friend, every lover, every acquaintance you ever made, die before you. Then there was the utter detachment from the regular human world, living in a never-ending lie. Finally, there was the burden and guilt of feeding on humans. By the end of it, my father wanted nothing to do with it.

“But he had made too deep a bargain with the devil. When he asked VitasVitus to leave, the old vampire roared with laughter. My father fought him, but he was no match. Your mother and I watched as VitasVitus forced the gift on him and turned him into a vampire using his ancient blood. This is why under my rule as Lord, none may give the gift unless I agree to it. Forcing it on another is unnatural and ugly.”

“Two days later, our father was ravenous with blood-thirst. He made an excuse that the family had decided to leave for our summer home and so invited the nobles in the area for a final dinner party to use the food stores before we left. Dozens came, and none left. My father and Vitus drank their fill.

“My mother had been confined to her bed this entire time because of her pregnancy. Father had told her not to come down to the party and made her promise. But she wanted to surprise him and see their friends one last time. She walked into the end of the slaughter and saw her husband covered in blood, feasting hungrily. Screaming, she ran from the room. Father chased after her as she scrambled up the stairs to her room. They struggled and somehow she fell down the stairs.

“The fall caused the baby to come, but it was too early. There were…problems. In today’s world, he would have lived. Back then, he had no chance. I watched as father held my little baby brother in his hands, sobbing, knowing that his blood could save him if he chose. To me, the only logical thing to do was to make him a vampire. But my father could not bring himself to do it. He told my mother everything, and she made him swear not to bring the evil further into the family. As painful as it was, he kept his word to her. A few hours later, we buried my brother in the family lot.

“After that, my mother took a turn for the worse. We gathered around her bed as she barely clung to life, and together we made a plan to save her. Working together, with your mother leading the way, we captured Vitus and forced the gift from him. We went against what was meant to be our mother’s dying wish that she not be part of this dark life. None of us could bear the idea of seeing her die. So we saved her. And then, at our father’s urging, your mother and I took the gift ourselves. We were now a family of vampires.”

Once again, I felt the world shift around me. Her story had spun me violently in tight circles and now, with her last statement, suddenly stopped, leaving me so dizzy I could barely stay on my feet. My mother was a vampire? It didn’t make any sense. I’d seen her with my own eyes. I remembered something from Shakra’s tale, an inconsistency, and I clung to it in the hopes it was enough to unravel the story around her.