Revisited (Redemption Series) (5 page)

Sam opened the door with a flourish and saw several familiar faces as they milled about the large conference room. Eli Manchester, the founder and CEO of the group, sat in a chair close to the door. Marla Palmeri, the deputy director of the FBI, and Becca’s boss, took her seat next to the one Sam would soon take. Bradford Holt, Massachusetts Senator and Ian’s father, was new to their group, but Sam felt he would fit in with all his strengths and connections. A few other associates filled the room, along with the man who knew more about The Manchester Group than Eli Manchester himself, Mr. Ore. 

Not one member of the staff ever called him by a first name, because none knew it. Only the jet-black hair, piercing brown eyes, and black clothing were obvious about him. The rest was a mystery. Not a soul knew what Mr. Ore did for the group except for Eli. That fact in itself made Sam believe Mr. Ore was perhaps the most important man in the room.

“Thank you all for coming this afternoon. We have a lot to go over, but please feel free to jump in at anytime.” Sam took his seat at the table as the others filed in. He nodded to Bradford and received a slight nod of acknowledgment in return. “I’m happy to announce that Ian Holt has been found. We will make a statement to the press once he is able to be debriefed on his experience.” 

Those who were not aware of Ian’s discovery released sighs of relief. 

“With that off the agenda, we need to move on to the Liam Caldwell situation. What do we have?”

Marla cleared her throat and flipped open the file in front of her. “It’s believed he is the last in the line of Ahbmonites. Through our research, we discovered he is much more.”

Sam furrowed his brow at this new discovery. Lily had assured him of the connection based on the pull she felt toward him. He was almost positive Liam was an Ahbmonite. Sam wondered what else Liam could possibly be.

“Turns out he has a direct lineage, if the line we believe is correct.” Marla turned a few more pages.

Bradford squinted before he spoke. “What you believe, or what you know to be correct?”

“What we believe. Here.” She passed out several copies of genealogy charts, birth certificates, death certificates, and other documents to everyone at the table. “The Ahbmonites first came onto the radar when the Romanian brothers found them in Jerusalem about 10 AD. The unique race was the only human subjects the brothers used as a continued blood source. Their blood was so delicious and satisfying, the brothers agreed to drink, but not kill them. The brothers learned by doing so, they were transferring some vampiric traits to them. When the Ahbmonites could no longer handle the traits, they were turned or killed. We believe because of this fact, by the late 1800’s the race had died out. By 1895, only one of the brothers, Anton Cadreanu, was known to exist. It’s there where the records get a bit hazy.” 

She turned to what looked like a ledger entry from Ellis Island. “July of 1895, the vampire version of Anton Cadreanu disappeared from the village he had inhabited in Italy for over a century. The following summer, Anthony Caldwell entered the United States with an Italian birth certificate. From every description we can find, I believe they are one and the same.”

Sam couldn’t understand how she thought this was possible. “So you believe this Anthony is a relative of Liam’s?”

“His great-grandfather, yes.”

Mr. Ore looked through the papers, not at all phased by what he read. 

Sam suspected this to mean there was something about Liam’s heritage Mr. Ore already knew about.

“And that is possible how? There has never been a recorded case of a vampire offspring.” Mr. Ore’s tone suggested how ridiculous the idea seemed.

“Right, not recorded. What if Anton found a way to revert to his human state?”

“A cure?” Mr. Ore cocked his brow, skepticism clearly portrayed on his face.

“Yes. Is it possible?” Marla asked.

“Doubtful,” Mr. Ore said.

Sam tried to shake the new information into his head and let it settle. One thing was sure; he could get more answers from Lily than he’d get from anyone in this room. “In light of this new information, I say we dig deeper into both of the histories of Anton Cadreanu and Anthony Caldwell. Right now, I think Lily is the only one who can help us with our current predicament.”

Bradford rolled his eyes. “I believe Ms. Edwards is incapacitated at the moment. I know I’m new to this whole process, but is there anyone else who has any idea what we are dealing with here?”

“I have just the man.” Eli Manchester stood and opened the conference room door, welcoming his nephew in. “Ladies and gentlemen, this young man is one of Manchester’s finest resources. His knowledge of demonology and vampirism has surpassed every other person we have ever employed. May I present my nephew, Nathaniel Archer.”

Mr. Ore began to laugh at the introduction. He had zero faith in the skills of the Archer bloodline he had known in the past and didn’t believe in the one standing before him now. 

Nathaniel glared. “Speak up, Ore. I don’t think I heard your welcome clearly. Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

“Not a bit, Archer. Eli and I have already spoken of your value in this situation, which I believe to be none.” Mr. Ore glared right back, which in turn caused every single hair on the back of Nathaniel’s neck to rise.

“Your opinion is noted.” Nathaniel turned his attention to the rest of the room. “If I may?” 

Sam nodded for him to take the floor, and Eli sat down in his chair.

“As my uncle said, I am Nathaniel Archer. You might have heard of my family if you’ve been with The Manchester Group for any length of time. My mother was Eli’s sister. My father . . .” He choked up a bit at the memory of his late father. “My father had a very special gift that was passed onto me. Some might call it a curse . . . I know I have at times. At its most basic definition, I am a psychic.” He stared directly at Mr. Ore, but the hazy blur he had received from him before was still all he could perceive. “I also have a doctorate in theology and have studied demonology my entire life. In the past ten years, I have had visions about a demon named Gideon.” 

Marla shifted in her seat at the admission. Bradford sat forward, eager to hear the new information. Mr. Ore tapped his index finger on his lips, then steepled his fingers in front of him.

Nathaniel continued. “The visions began when I was twenty and visiting a friend in Rome. Rebecca Swift and I had known each other since we were children and she was studying abroad at the time. Back then, we didn’t know who Gideon was, or how deep his obsession with Rebecca went. Suffice it to say, he brought hell to earth on that trip for us. But Gideon imbedded part of himself with me, and my visions of him are more frequent than those of any other demon.”

“Yet he still evades you, hmm?” Mr. Ore offered with a raised eyebrow.

“After the ordeal he put Rebecca and Abe through three years ago, the visions stopped. Last night the visions returned in full force. I believe he has been consorting with Liam Caldwell in his efforts to get Rebecca back. Now, he has moved into another vessel. With continued visions, I’m sure we will be able to make an identification.” Nathaniel smiled.

“Since you know the direction in which this investigation needs to proceed, what is your next move?” Mr. Ore asked in a condescending tone.

“I believe you were discussing Mr. Caldwell’s lineage. I have a little story some of you might not have heard. It was told to me by one of the only beings to survive the events.” Nathaniel pulled out a chair next to Eli and got comfortable before he launched into his story. “Once every decade, the Order of Vampires had what they called The Blood Feast . . . a family reunion, if you will. They celebrated all new members and mourned if there were losses. But in 1973, a vampire named Martin Leatherby had a few other items on the agenda.”

It’s time to begin. 

    Her sire’s words haunted Lily as she and Martin began to work on the most secretive project The Manchester Group had ever undertaken.

Martin had always stressed to Lily how important her humanity was, and when they settled in Belfast, Ireland in 1970, he vowed to get it back.

It started slow. A few calculations here and there, then he had her looking at rare blood types Lily had never even thought of researching. Before long, Martin had developed an injectable formula he believed would cure vampirism. In 1972, he recruited her, Filipp, and Debir to help him with the animal trials.

They began to inject small animals with venom and changed them into the vampiric version of their species. After a defined period, Martin would inject them with what he called anti-venom, to return them to their previous states. Once he was successful with one animal, he went on to another. He started with mice and worked his way up to chimpanzees. Once they were all back to normal, Martin seemed pleased with his results. Lily, Debir, and Filipp were assigned to other projects and they believed the next stage would never come. Lily never wanted to discuss it with Martin, because she didn’t want him to move forward; she didn’t want to become human again.

When Martin spoke those four simple words in one of her favorite spots in the world, everything changed.

Martin wanted to be able to announce successful human trials by the end of summer 1973. That was when The Blood Feast would take place.

Over the decades, the number of vampires roaming the earth had dwindled. Those remaining were grouped into two classes. The ones who retained their humanity and chose to survive mainly on animal blood were in the minority and were led by Martin. Then there were the vampires who survived exclusively on human blood. They believed humans were to serve as sustenance, and were not worthy to become an eternal being. The eldest female vampire, Ambrosia, led that faction.

Martin had worked months to perfect his formula, which he planned to unveil at The Blood Feast.      

“I still don’t agree with this,” Lily argued, placing the final pin in the chignon at the base of her neck.

“You don’t have to.” Martin smiled as he admired Lily in the mirror. “It will be their decision to receive the injection or not.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I just don’t understand. We are doing such good here. I know we’ve helped millions with our various research projects and the development of hundreds of vaccines for The Manchester Group. I don’t think I could ever go back to being human. I would feel so useless after everything we’ve accomplished.” Lily sighed like a petulant child unable to get her way.

Martin shook his head, knowing he had discovered a cure for vampirism and wanting to share his discovery with the ninety-six other vampires in existence that evening. His data was all there. All the trials had been confirmed and completed, but Lily didn’t want to see it. 

Lily could not understand the insane urge to grow old and die. She wanted to earn her death, have a rightful place in heaven with the husband she ached for. Her belief was she would walk that road as a vampire. 

“Oh my beautiful, stubborn girl.” Martin pulled her into his arms, and her cheek pressed to his chest. “I want to grow old. I want to find a woman to love and cherish without fear of killing her. I want to have more children. You will always be my girl, but I miss being a real father. All my boys were dead and gone before I even became a vampire. At the rate I’m going, I will never die, never see them again.”

“Don’t say that!” Lily pulled back. “Peter has promised—”

“No, we have to make our own future. I know Peter has influence over the fates, but after so many hundreds of years . . . I miss it all.”

Lily lowered her head to look down at her floor-length strapless gown and noted her toes peeking out underneath. She sighed, admitting to herself she missed her human days, but she didn’t have an attachment to anyone special enough to make the risk of changing worthwhile.

Martin lifted her chin with his fingertips so her gaze could meet his. “Isn’t there anything you miss?”

She turned her head back toward the mirror. “Of course there is. Have you seen the way I drool when I walk by the bakery downtown? I’ve been craving apple pie for almost seventy years!”