The Vampire's Retribution, page 12
“Is he awake, I mean like conscious?” Celia asked before anyone else.
“What did he say?” Lukas demanded, with a mouth full of crunchy cereal.
Obviously, the boy had no table manners. “Chew. Swallow. Then talk,” she told him. Although still simmering, she had a bit more control. The strong coffee helped.
“Well,” Celia said, “so how is he? Better?”
“He’s conscious. Even speaking in full sentences. He remembers bits and pieces, including the fiasco with Chamberlain yesterday.”
Almost choking, Lukas’s round eyes were an incredible dark-blue and very intense. He dropped the spoon in the bowl and cleared his throat. “I tried to say I was sorry.”
“And it’s a good thing you did. Because I’d hate to think the attitude thing is genetic. And now the pout on your face as well.” Turning to her adopted father, she said to him, “He had the audacity to get testy when I told him what Zia did last night.”
A ‘humph’ came at her first. “I take it he’s up and moving about. Perhaps showering?”
Oh. No. Of course. She put the coffee mug down carefully. It all clicked and feeling the fool, she shook her head slowly. How could she be so thick? “I think the infection is gone. But he is still… incapacitated. Did I get it right this time, Dad?”
He gave an austere nod followed by his typical thin smile. “Old habits die hard, honey. Michael has always been arrogant; also strong and independent. Not being able to protect or defend himself, not able to move or walk must be torture.”
“Jeez, is there anything good about this?” She was beyond frustrated.
But Lukas leaned forward. The front legs of his chair hit the floor with a thud that made Celia jump. “They can’t see us here, can they? I mean, those sorcerers are dead, right?”
“Don’t worry, I put one major protection whammy on the building,” Celia stated with confidence. “We’re hidden pretty well.”
“Do you think we’re in danger, Dad?” she asked as her stomach churned.
“No, I assure you, we are not. Perhaps the Council knows more about this. I’ll talk to Rosa.” But his concern showed. “Chamberlain will be here shortly to confirm he’s on the road to healing. Try to eat something, honey. Perhaps I’ll take nourishment to him and see his progress for myself. Agreed?”
His calmness was a trait she admired, and she gave a soft. “Agreed,” while scraping gobs of sweet butter off the roll and onto her plate.
****
Miles had a mug of human blood in hand. He closed the door and turned on all the lights in the room, staring at Michael, fully satisfied watching the wince. The fatherly expression had already disappeared, being more than irritated with the vampire. Their history didn’t include friendly chats, or for that matter, any type of assistance. After turning on the bedside lamp, he stood over Michael and simply held out the mug. The look of disgust coming at him only fueled his annoyance.
“Let me make an educated guess. You’re totally helpless. And you’re pissed as hell.”
As expected, no response. Miles placed the crystal mug on the nightstand, then sat in the upholstered chair, crossing his leg at the knee with folded hands on his lap.
“I take your silence as a yes.”
Minutes ticked away. Then came the muttered, “Well obviously I can’t move, and I can’t feed myself…right now.”
Analyzing his subject, the words acerbic, egotistical, and, of course, self-loathing came to mind. His next journal entry would be full of descriptive adjectives.
“Cut the attitude with me. I’m not the love of your life whom you’re trying to push away, and you don’t want me or any other Georgian too annoyed with you, right now.” He dug in deeper. “You have a truly confused child, who is troubled and raw, full of rage, right now. Celia worked a special kind of “good” magic in Manhattan to save you both. The Sovereign Council is standing with you, significantly impressed by your win. Rosa Bellini retrieved your sanity last night, and quite possibly, saved your miserable, undead ass.” Like a bull ready to charge, he stood. “As for Alana, I recall a certain September night many years ago—”
“Don’t go there, researcher—”
“Don’t interrupt, please,” he bit out in a very clipped, British tone. “If I recall correctly, you then went after her for two entire weeks. You allowed your beast-within to dictate every move, fully unwilling to control your demonic nature. You hunted her down, dragged her into the passageway. I fought you then, and I’ll fight you now—if necessary. Celia, with many Georgians to assist, got the portal to open. Helena reached for you, but I was the one to shove you through.” His voice sank lower. “How is it a mortal man had the strength to push an out-of-control vampire through a portal? A father’s love is far stronger than anything. Perhaps what happened to Lukas allows you to understand much better now.” He leaned in with a glare. “Hurt Alana again, and I swear before God, I’ll stake you myself. Now, sit up.”
Michael closed his eyes. It took many seconds before he whispered, “I can’t.”
“Precisely!” He gripped Michael’s broad shoulders hard, ignored the gasp of pain and got his back against the headboard. Cupping his thick head of hair, he brought the scarlet sustenance to his lips with a curt, “Drink.”
Small swallows. Small sips. It took a while. But when the primal need was quenched, the vampire turned his bruised face away. “My body screams in pain. My hands are numb. My arms feel like lead. I thought my time had come. I prayed you would find Lukas. And I never meant to bring danger to her. You’re an honorable man, Miles, I…respect you. I don’t want Alana to know—”
“How you paid Rosa triple what this building is worth? How you anonymously provide for Alana? The renovations alone must have cost a fortune. Let’s add the fact that you employ an ex-Guardian to manage the bookshop who reports to you her every need. I know about the irrevocable trust for Lukas in my name, in the event you end up dust and bone. Plus, you’ve siphoned millions of dollars from NWT, filtered through highly creative bookkeeping, I must say, for The Georgian Council to train new Guardians. I’ve done my research.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “How did you know?”
Miles allowed a dry smirk as he clasped his hands behind his back. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who connects all of us. You were hell-bent on making amends this past year, weren’t you?”
“Does Alana know?”
“She’s not as experienced with puzzles as I am.” His tone softened. A bit. “You and I shall call a truce for the sake of who we love. Agreed?” Michael nodded once. “Good. Chamberlain will arrive soon to examine you.”
“No way in Hell. I don’t need a demon quack.”
“Demon specialist,” he curtly corrected. “You will cooperate and act civil. You will swallow every snide remark. And you are in no position to argue.”
The look of disgust was priceless. “I have no say in this?”
“Positively none,” Miles stated with authority.
****
Shortly after Chamberlain’s arrival, the fireworks started. Alana’s quiet home filled with outraged protests and more than a few threats from the obstinate patient. Anyone passing on the street below could hear the ugly rant. Hopefully, none of her neighbors would call the local police. The examination, punctuated with insults, didn’t take long. Miles kept her updated. But Chamberlain’s final request brought out a different kind of beast in Michael.
Sitting at the antique secretary in the corner of the living room, Alana sorted through days of mail. More thunderous threats echoed through the thick plaster walls. “Get your fucking hands off me!” “Miles… Make them stop! This isn’t going to happen… I’ll kill you, you bastard! Don’t try it!” She heard the shower turn on and allowed herself a short but sinister chuckle.
Looking up, an idea came to mind and her attention turned to Lukas. With his legs dangling over the arm of a leather chair, he appeared bored.
“I can just imagine the look on your father’s face.”
“He’ll kill them. I know he will,” Lukas replied.
Engagement felt right. She motioned him over, and he took the bait. “I won’t tell if you don’t, so give me the scoop. And I mean everything.”
His head tilted toward the bedroom. “Baker has him in your bathroom. Man, he can curse up a storm. He’s, like, beyond ballistic. Told Baker he’ll hunt him down when he’s walking again.” They both chuckled this time. “Uh oh—Mister B says wash his hair. Man, he’s way pissed.” After another minute, Alana saw the cutest deep-dimpled smile ever. “Okay. He’s out… Baker’s drying him off. Uh…those pajamas are going on. He’s still cursing.” Lukas shook his head. “The score is one to nothing, in favor of the doctor.”
****
Rage. Cold, calculated rage. And murder. Not to mention, the wretched humiliation of being soaped and scrubbed by this demon-doctor. Baker tucked the bedspread around his body. “And get your filthy hands off me, moron. You’re enjoying this,” he hissed shooting a nasty glare at Miles, who sat casually ensconced in the upholstered chair like a know-it-all.
“I’ll bet you feel much better now,” Chamberlain stated.
The short, bald man didn’t know how lucky he was. Had he been able to move, the human’s neck would be in his hands, because he was beyond angry.
“Go to hell, you fucking quack. I’m over three hundred years old.”
“Compared to many of the evil things out there, three hundred is pretty damn young. I will admit, most vampires we study aren’t as old as you. The ones we get to the lab are reckless—going for the quick kill and not too intelligent.”
He poked Michael’s hand with a pen and then ran it up his arm. “Do you feel this. Yes, no?”
A low, long growl came before he replied, “Rot. In. Hell.”
Chamberlain had the audacity to sit on the bed, studying him. Again… neck in hand came to mind. “I’ll bet my last poker chip this is as scary as you get, vampire. You’d be a highly interesting specimen to study considering your history—both good and bad. This affliction of yours is one for the “unnatural” science books. Once again, you’ve proven to be unique.”
“And foolishly arrogant,” Miles added while slowly shaking his head.
“Your shoulder is healing, and the wounds are closing. But sorcerers are diabolical creatures. No one, not even egotistical vampires, can outsmart them. Forming an unholy alliance with that Triumvirate was the biggest mistake. You took the dangerous way out, and it came back to bite you in the ass…or should I be literal and say the shoulder? I hope you survive their retaliation, which you know will certainly come.”
“Don’t go there,” he bit out with a tight sneer.
Chamberlain clicked his tongue. Many times. “Get over yourself, Michael. If Rosa hadn’t helped last night, you’d have slipped into madness. The poison would soak up every lucid brain cell. The smell alone would be intolerable. Then you’d beg for a stake.” He gripped the injured right thigh and didn’t let go. Michael’s eyes shot wide, and he let out a ragged gasp. “Note the chart, Baker: No metamorphosis. No long canines, feral pupils, or clawed finger. The subject does not howl. His response is that of a mortal man, not the fearless champion documented by Georgians for the last hundred-plus years.” When he let go, Michael turned his face away. But the pain of the grab as he grit his teeth? He had certainly felt it. “So, now we move on.”
“How so?” asked Miles, sitting so proper like an old English gentleman in the chair.
“Get him out of this bed. Forget about his mystically enhanced abilities. I want him out of bed.”
“Force him back into the world of the living, so to speak?”
“My thoughts exactly,” the demon quack stated. “You know I’m not a cruel man, Miles. But suffering his arrogance is something I won’t tolerate.” He stood and looked down with measured compassion. For once. “You couldn’t kill me or anyone else in this condition. But there are certain perks. You have Lukas back. Neither Alana nor that complicated child should worry. As for the beast-within? I don’t honestly know if it will ever resurface. I’ll check him in another day or so, Miles. Baker will bring up the chair.”
“What chair?” Michael asked, very confused.
“It will help you get around until you’re walking again.” Chamberlain didn’t wait for a reply. He and the others left the bedroom, turning out the lights. Minutes later, the door opened. Baker parked the folded contraption at the foot of the antique four-poster bed.
“No fucking way,” he hissed in the dark, empty room.
Chapter 18
Changes
Alana checked on Michael, who was once again asleep. She stood at the foot of the bed, lost in thoughts of him. The furrowed brow, the tense bruised jaw. He was handsome, a commanding creature. His six-foot three-inch frame almost dwarfed the bed. Was he lost in a dream? Would he continue to heal? Only time would tell.
She left the room, less worried but more anxious.
Miles had asked her to relay a somewhat cryptic message to Lukas. Silently, she approached the den. Lukas lounged in a comfortable sprawl on the den’s denim loveseat, thoroughly engrossed in X-Men II. She studied him from the doorway.
What a strange mixture of conflicts. Rage and gentleness, frightened and brazen… So many contradictions rolled into one troubled fifteen-year-old.
There was no physical resemblance. Lukas was small for his age. Very wiry, just a bit over five-foot tall. His face reminded her of a Renaissance angel. No. No physical resemblance at all…well, maybe the high cheekbones. But mannerisms? One could say: like father; like son. Pulling out of her thoughts, she said in casual way, “When the movie is over, Miles has something he wants you to do.”
Lukas jumped up. Then he rolled his shoulders loose.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay. Hey… Do you have the first X-men movie, too?”
“Sure. Look in the cabinet by the window. And I think X-Men III is coming out soon or maybe it’s out already. I don’t really follow these things too closely. Celia’s the action-adventure aficionado in the family.”
He hit pause on the remote and turned to her with a look of typical-teen curiosity. “Do you think we can get it?”
She had to smile. ‘We’ said he’s comfortable here, getting comfortable with her. It was a good start. “Sure. Let’s check the web together and buy the DVD. I’ll even spring for super-speedy delivery,” she called over her shoulder, heading back into the others.
****
“I gave him your message, Dad,” Alana said as she entered the living room. He and Celia were in a hushed conversation on the sofa, which stopped as she sat in a leather chair across from them. Her senses tingled, a tense feeling she didn’t ignore. “Give me a clue. What’s next?”
“Dad has an idea, and I think it’s worth considering.” Celia appeared reserved, not her usual bubbly self. No playful way of speaking—not this time. “We’re swimming against the tide here. I-I spent the morning downstairs with Zia. Both of us sense something big brewing. We have to be prepared…to take extraordinary measures.”
Her adopted father cleared his throat. A grave expression settled on his face. “Doctor Chamberlain has helped tremendously, but your vampire is not cooperative, which exacerbates his current situation. But this must be voluntary—on everyone’s part.”
“Okay,” Alana said, drawing out the word but open to what he had to say.
“Michael is genetically linked to his son, whose blood may increase his ability to heal. Likewise, volumes of Georgian documentation prove a Guardian’s blood is like a pure shot of adrenaline to a vampire. It sends their senses into overdrive. If time is of the essence, simply put, I think he needs your blood. Lukas’s as well.”
“Then tap my veins today. I’m sure Lukas will be eager to give a pint or two.”
“And of course, Dad and I will donate,” Celia added.
“Michael’s thirst is minimal We’ll be able to sustain him for at least forty-eight hours.”
Her lips settled in a half-smile. “From what I heard this morning, I don’t think he’ll miss the doctor’s visits. I know Arthur Chamberlain’s a good man, and I trust him completely. Doing this without anyone coming or going, in case we are being watched… We should start today.”
“I agree,” said Celia.
“Good. On to the next item, which may be more crucial. We must give everything we know about his battle in Manhattan to the Georgian Sovereign Council―and very soon. We are a world-wide network. Then, I’ll ask them to share all the information they’ve collected, throughout three centuries, about Michael Malone.”
“Why,” Alana asked, very curious.
He nodded as if expecting the question. “Why did Helena allow him to regain his soul? What is their connection? Why choose him and not another vampire? I’d like to set up a formal conference with Father Giovanni as soon as possible.”
“Zia will help. I asked her about a meeting this morning,” Celia said. “And she’s cooking something special for him. It didn’t smell all that appetizing, but hey, I’m not into anything even remotely suggesting animal.”
She stood, full of resolve. “Okay. How do we do this?”
He pulled off his reading glasses, laying his notes in his lap. “Talk with Rosa, Alana. She deserves to know your connection to him for the past decade. I’ll get what we need from Chamberlain to begin the blood donations.”
“What about Lukas,” Celia asked, full of concern.
“You can keep Lukas occupied. Besides, you’ve always liked action movies. If and when the boy can pull himself away from the den, I want him to sit quietly at the dining room table and write down everything—and I do mean everything he remembers about being raised by Helena, his four years of captivity with the sorcerers, and his altered life as someone else for one short year. If you can persuade him to write about living on the city streets while he hunted his father, it would likewise be appreciated.”
