Twice Bitten (63 page)

Racco nodded his confirmation, while glancing cautiously around the room, like a little boy making sure his buddies still wanted to play with him. All of my female vampire companions nodded along with him, as they had already told me that they’d never leave Alaia and me. Xuanxang also gave his hearty support to our trip, which made me feel better since it wasn’t too far removed from his stomping grounds. Such familiarity with the area could prove invaluable.

As for the perpetual young males in my vampire entourage, it didn’t look so easy to resolve.

“Am I correct to assume that you won’t be coming along, Armando?” said Gustav, when Armando started playing a game on his cell phone.

“I tell you what…why don’t you ask Garvan what he wants to do, and I’ll let you know right after he tells you,” he said, his tone aloof and apathetic.

“I’m going to see Kahn Tengri for the first time in almost ninety years,” said Garvan, to which Armando shot him a surprised look. “The last time I was there it was snowing at the top of the second highest peak in Kazakhstan. Do you remember, Chanson? Maybe this time, since it’s summer, we won’t get stuck in a blizzard!”

He chuckled, and many in the room chuckled along with him.

“So, I guess everyone is going except for Franz and Armando,” Gustav concluded. “Let’s move on to other things we need to take care of—”

“All right, I’ll come!” said Armando, his attitude still surly. “But if I get sick from that fucking train, it will be everyone in this room’s fault!”

Stated just like another little boy. How I wanted to rebuke both Armando and Racco for their childishness. However, if their feud got reignited we might never move on to more important things.

“We will make sure that everyone gets on and off the train safely,” said Gustav, smiling. He ignored the interruption since Armando’s standoff had ended. “Remember also that Racco will bring along the antidote in case anyone gets infected with mercury/gold poisoning from the ‘Silver Train’.”

“Make sure you bring enough of that magic juice, Mr. Racco, for me to indulge on, as I intend to drink a bottle in advance…just in case, eh?” Armando’s tone was suddenly devoid of all venom. A quick switch like that won’t work on a woman…but Racco smiled and told him that he’d do it for him.

With that taken care of, Gustav moved on to the logistics of getting from point A to point B, which meant flying from the island to Bangalore at dusk. Everyone that had brought caskets would have them transported along with our supplies and Racco’s and my luggage. My personal protectors’ caskets would already be on the jet waiting for us in Bangalore, since that’s where they left them after the plane trip from America to India a few weeks ago.

The rest of the night was spent on readying supplies from the palace and ordering others in Bangalore—like the mercury compound antidote’s ingredients—so we would lack nothing during our stay in Kazakhstan. Unlike most nights, I stayed up until the sun rose, gently rocking my daughter while she slept in my arms. Maybe it was the excitement of knowing I would soon meet another one of my ancestors—and this one still among the living. Or, perhaps it was the nagging fear that we’d meet up with Ralu again at some future point in time.

Regardless, I could hardly keep my eyes open as the sun peered up from the eastern horizon. By then, all the vampires—except for Koimala’s clan—had retired for their daily rest. Racco stayed with me in my bed until after I fell asleep. I had feared my dreams would be filled with terror and gore, or perhaps filled with the deaths of those I loved dearly.

But I didn’t recall dreaming at all. When I awoke, fairly rested, the palace was filled with vibrant energy. The final preparations to leave the Maldives were under way.

***

So, that brings us to the present…well sort of.

We just arrived at Bengaluru International Airport, and Tyreen, Chanson, Raquel, and I were the first ones on board our next jet. We flew in from the island on the plane Racco picked me up with in Nashville, as miraculously it was spared so much as a scratch from Ralu’s warriors last night. But it was a little cramped with all of us, so this should at least make for a better trip to Kazakhstan.

The peace between Racco, Garvan, and Armando continues for now. And Garvan and Armando are back to their fun-loving antics. I only pray what we witnessed a few minutes ago continues throughout the duration of the latest adventure we’re about to embark on.

Everyone was aboard the plane, except for Armando. When we started to worry, thinking he might’ve decided to ditch us after all, all of a sudden the door next to the cockpit blew open. In stepped our beloved vampire, decked out in a snakeskin Stetson that matched a pair of viper shit-kickers he procured in Nashville last month. But, that was only the beginning of his latest outrageous outfit. He wore a rhinestone jacket, torn jeans, a big belt buckle with Elvis Presley’s image in vintage silver, and in honor of the ‘King of Rock n’ Roll’, a pair of tinted Ray-Bans and puffy shirt open to just above his navel, ala Racco.

Too stunned to laugh, we watched him strut down the aisle like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be Bono or Mick Jagger.

“Silver train is a comin’…thinnnnkkk I’m gonna get on nowwww. Oh yeah!” he crooned, “Silver train is a comin’…thinnnnkkk I wanna get on nowwww. Oh, yeah…Oh yeah!”

“I don’t recognize that as a legitimate U2 song,” said Raquel, snickering as he strutted past her seat. “And you’re far too nasally to give Bono a run for his money!”

“The hell you say?” he said, stopping his performance in mid-strut. “This is supposed to be Mick Jagger in the early days!” he feigned offense and restarted the song.

“What, is that a Rolling Stones song?” asked Tyreen, wearing the look of a confused teenage girl far too young to appreciate one of the great bands of the sixties and seventies…and eighties, if my Papa’s opinion counts for anything.

“Vintage tune sung by the master of such elegant raunchiness!” flaunted Armando, reaching his fingers down his throat as if he was going to force-vomit. “It is my new anthem…”Silver Train is a comin’…thinnnnkkk I’m gonna get on now. Oh, yeah!....”

“Shut the hell up before you ruin my favorite cut from the “Goats Head Soup” album!” shouted Garvan in mock irritation. “Brian Jones is probably rolling over in his grave!”

“Uh-uh-uhhh!” Armando taunted back, waving a honed sharp-nailed forefinger at his immortal pal. “Brian was long dead before that album was cut, and Mick Taylor had replaced him…. That slide’s classic M.T., you bumbling idiot! I’ll bet you don’t even remember we went to the tour’s opening night in London, back in seventy-two!”

“It was 1973, and the tour didn’t start in London, dumb-ass!” said Raquel, and we were off to the races for another fun time…just hope it lasts.

While everyone’s laughing and having a good time, I believe it’s finally time to wrap up this update. Besides, my baby girl has something to tell me…she’s moving on to other words besides ‘ma-ma’. But before I go, I will share one last thing. I haven’t met Marissa yet, but someone who called herself that name appeared in a dream while I napped on the hour and a half flight from the island in the Maldives to Bangalore. This girl looked a lot like Chanson, but younger than I expected her to look, and her hair carries more of a reddish tint than either mine or Chanson’s.

I hope it was merely a dream and nothing else. Because if it is anything more, then we’re headed for some serious trouble. At least that’s what the girl named Marissa in my dream said.

“What my papa seeks to do won’t work!” she said, her French accent rough and almost garbled. “Turn back before it’s too late…or someone is going to die!”

I pray it’s just a dream born out of anxieties of going to another new place and facing the unknown. If not…then God, I hope she’s wrong.

The End

Available now:

Blood Princesses of the Vampires

Dying of the Dark Vampires, Book Three

(Please read on for a sample)

“You worry far too much, Txema,” said Mohini, gently reminding me that my thoughts were coming in loud and clear for her and the rest of our undead companions—both in our chopper and surely the other one that had just landed. “Try not to borrow trouble with your mind, since it’s a sure way to materialize your fears.”

I nodded while smiling sheepishly, wondering how I could ever keep from worrying, given Ralu’s determination to wipe my bloodline’s presence from the earth. Meanwhile, our helicopter landed. Mercel quickly opened the door, and Racco led the way onto the tarmac, with our vampire trio, Mercel, and me right behind him. I guess I should’ve anticipated how quickly they would all move. Even Racco’s non-vampire legs carried him swiftly to the limousine. My athletic gifts were no match, although I had a substantial lead on Mercel. He and I scurried into the back of our limo just as it began to creep forward.

“Everyone, leave the talking to me,” said Racco, who chose the seat behind the driver, so he could readily roll down the window and present whatever credentials, or other ‘acceptable’ forms of coercion, to get us through unhindered. Mohini sat next to him, and Mercel sat next to her. Xuanxang, Koimala, and me sat across from them. Our car took the lead and the other two vehicles that housed the other eleven vampires followed close behind us. “But just in case we are detained, Koimala be ready with what we discussed earlier.”

The Maldivian Emperor nodded knowingly. It made me wonder if Koimala would try some peaceful sorcery, or violently slaughter the dozen guards in a matter of seconds, if it came to that. The playful look he shot me gave hope for the former option, and not the latter.

The only checkpoint that proved problematic was the last one out of the airport facility. Unfortunately, it proved to be a significant hindrance. We were stopped for almost two hours—even worse than what I had feared. Xuanxang, Koimala, and Mohini seemed just as nervous as me, despite the fact that all three could kill the vast majority of human soldiers before any of them knew they were under attack. Racco was angry, but managed to keep his ire hidden from the guards that were preventing our caravan of limousines from leaving the airport.

Part of the reason for his cool exterior was the fact that we weren’t detained because of vampire fears, or anything else we had done. It had something to do with a traffic jam a mile ahead of us, where a division of tanks was being positioned along a protective ring surrounding Almaty’s downtown area. Any sorcery or violence on our part would likely make things worse. If only my growing hunger would cooperate as easily.

“This is bad,” said Racco, stating the obvious. “But, this inconvenience could turn disastrous if we stray from our most logical options.”

“Meanwhile, we run the risk of losing our target,” said Xuanxang, quietly.

His anger seemed to worsen, despite his agreement with Racco’s assessment. Koimala and Mohini said nothing, and neither did Mercel. He seemed to shrink back in his seat across from me, as if loathing the fact that his confined presence with our vampire companions had been extended far longer than he had hoped. It mattered not that the kindest vampire I had ever met, Mohini, sat next to him. Not to mention how much worse this could’ve been if the freezing essences of our usual vampire buddies were what he had to contend with, instead of the warmer variety.

“Yes, this is true,” agreed Racco, adding an emphatic nod. “Unfortunately, we will have to rely on vampiric senses, since the information I gave you could be useless by the time we get through this.”

“Maybe we should get out and walk,” Mohini suggested, drawing a scowl from her husband. He probably thought she was being a smart-ass. “Txema will need nourishment before long, and we can find a café along the way.”

“I have something better for her, and only wish that I had blood beverages for you three,” said Racco. He reached into a small refrigerator underneath a table separating the bench seats, and pulled out two bottled waters—one for me and one for Mercel. Then he pulled out a pair of small tablets that reminded me of a pill he gave me last year, when we skied down the side of a mountain in the Pyrenees. “Here, Txema and Mercel…these should quiet your hunger and give you the energy you will need. You shouldn’t require anything else until we are back in the helicopter, later this afternoon.”

Mercel took his pill and water without any questions. You already know that’s not how it works for me.

“Is this like the last energy tablet you gave me?”

“Better. This one will last as long as eight hours, and it still brings the same kick that the other one had,” he said, smiling wanly, as if reminiscing about that wonderful trip for a moment. “I had already planned to give you this, and it now seems especially fortuitous, since we can’t have you tapping out on us when we finally find Marissa. We may get only one chance to apprehend her, and we can’t afford a single fuck-up on our part.”

Not that sitting in a non-moving limo didn’t count as one already.

Rather than voice anything sarcastic in our present pressure-cooker, I demurely took my pill and drank it down like a good girl. Racco was right—this one did carry the same kick, and where I thought the tortuous wait to get the traffic moving again would become excruciating, I hardly noticed. Very strange, and I’m sure the same was also true for Mercel. He looked totally at peace.