The Human-Undead War Trilogy (Book 1): Dark Intentions (5 page)

“Is that so?” The Master leaned forward with a bushy eyebrow raised.  

John stood, unable to hide his excitement. “The wraiths have grown, Master, and are ready to enter the battlefield when you command.”  

The Master smiled. “Great news indeed, Ashmore. Come. We have much to discuss.” He smacked John on the back and steered him through the dissipating crowd. “The first wraith has also succeeded in his mission. Our diversion is underway. The humans will be surprised in many ways within the next week.” 

John didn’t the miss the joy emanating from the Master’s voice. It was his turn to be curious. “So the scientist is here?” 

“We were finally able to persuade him to visit, yes.” 

They continued on in silence, toward the Master’s chambers. They walked through the main door, following the twisting maze of initial inner rooms and random halls, through the Great Hall, and down the elegant gallery in the Statue Room. The Master barked orders to his maids, telling them to shine the bronze statues better or pay the price. 

John was able to think clearly, the voices stilled. Humans, coming to Safehold Keep not as prisoners, but as guests! Aside from the other scientists and the constant flow of horrified prisoners, he hadn’t interacted with any humans in several years. His heart jumped. It’d be nice to talk to one again. 

Especially one who might be willing to help free him.

Chapter 6

“Mom?”
 

Brian walked through the cluttered living room, spilling his backpack onto the orange retro couch. The house reeked of cigarette smoke and copper. He placed his grey jacket on top of the television set and meandered into the kitchen.
 

She wasn’t home. She rarely was, but he’d figured she would be home today since she didn’t have to work both jobs on Fridays. 
 

His stomach growled. High school was such a new environment, and it took its toll on his body. He was squat for his age, bulky. His mother always commented that he was a body-builder in training, but he could stand to lose thirty pounds. He had skipped weight training today so he could study for his first Algebra test. 
 

He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a pudding. He then rifled through the cupboard above the sink and snatched a bag of potato chips.
 

Weight loss could wait until after his prepubescent days.
 

He walked back into the living room and turned on the television, shoving fistfuls of Lay’s into his mouth. He flipped through the channels and stopped on one of his favorite shows: Jeopardy. 
 

What he would give to make that kind of money in a thirty-minute time-span.
 

As one contestant blundered their way through an answer about botanical science, Brian hit the mute button. Had he heard his mother call his name? There was a loud bump, then a moan. The basement.
 

“Aw, Mom,” he muttered. She had a bad habit of trying to bring furniture she couldn’t lift upstairs when he wasn’t around. He turned the television off and trudged through the kitchen again. As he threw open the basement door, the strange copper smell hit him like a fist.
 

“Mom?” 
 

The lights were all out and miniscule sunlight filtered through the curtained windows below. A scraping sound echoed, like that of someone dragging their feet.
 

“Brian?” 
 

Her voice sounded strained. He rushed down the remainder of the stairs, not bothering to turn the light on. Had she hurt herself? He really wished that she would wait to do strenuous activities until he was around to help her.
 

“Stop!” she shrieked as he cleared the steps. “Don’t come any closer, honey.”
 

He stopped where he was, goose bumps popping up all over his body. 
 

“I don’t want you to see me like this. Go back upstairs,” she said, sobbing.
 

His eyes adjusted. He squinted, passing over the weight lifting machine, the exercise bike, the old furniture, all of it covered in cobwebs. Where had her voice come from? He turned around. Beneath the staircase.
 

She lay on the ground. Brian stepped forward, then stopped. Blood was splattered all over the cement. 
 

But it wasn’t hers.
 

She looked up at him. Intestines hung from her mouth. Her eyes were solid black. She cocked her head to one side, tears streaming down her face, then opened her mouth and hissed like a cat.
 

Two pointy fangs flashed in the dim lighting.
 

The intestines plopped to the floor with a sickening splat. “I told you to stay away!” She shielded her face with her forearm. A dog lay next to her, its body still convulsing. 
 

It was Keith’s dog, Brownie.
 

Brian leaned forward on his knees, voice shaky. “Mom, what’s going on? Why’d you do this to Brownie?”
 

Her eyes were blue again. The fangs were gone but the blood was still there. “I-I don’t know.”
 

***

Brian awoke, bathed in sweat. He inhaled the sweet smell of fresh straw along with the arid dankness of a cellar. There was a trace of smoke mixed in. He blinked, shaking the memories from his mind. He hadn’t dreamt of that experience with his mother in years. He didn’t care to dredge it up often. 

The grogginess wouldn’t subside and he realized he’d been drugged. His pulse quickened as he remembered he and Ruby had been in the training room, and there had been a hologram. 

No, a real vampire. There had been a struggle.  

Lots of blood. From Ruby. 

He bolted upright. A metal cage surrounded him. A cell. There was no way he’d be able to stand without stooping. The cool steel beneath him was lightly padded with straw. Another cage was within arm’s reach. A crumpled form lay still in a makeshift bed like his own. It moaned. 

“Ruby?” He swallowed hard. Whatever drug he was on, it was strong. He hugged his stomach, fighting the queasiness. “Ruby, is that you?” 

There was another indiscernible moan, but no movement.  

He maneuvered himself onto all fours and crawled forward, peering through the bars of the cage. The two cages were in the center of a twenty-foot-by-twenty-foot room. There was only one doorway ahead of him, with a stone stairway that disappeared up and around a curved bend. Torches glowed in brackets on the stone walls. Metal rings dotted the walls, with chains dangling coldly from them.  

The person in the other cage moaned again, then sat up. Her blouse was ripped and covered in dried blood.  

“Ruby!” Brian placed his hands on the bars and pressed his face to them. “You okay?” 

Her hands massaged her temples as she squinted at him. “Feels like I have the worst hangover ever. I could go for a huge cup of coffee right now.” 

“You and me both.” He stared into her eyes, attempting to ignore her exposed, slender shoulder. “I tried to get to you. I’m sorry.” 

She winced, then crawled forward. “It wasn’t your fault, Brian.” She plopped backward again. “Wow, I’m really woozy.” Her skirt hiked up, panties visible. 

Brian risked a glance at her thigh, then gasped. “There’s not even a scar!”  

She looked down and shrugged. “And it doesn’t hurt.”  

He pulled his shirt out and looked down. No tears or scabs or claw marks on his chest. He was certain he’d been substantially wounded during their scuffle. Either that, or whatever drugs flowed through his system were hallucinogens. 

Ruby ran her hand down her leg. Her blue eyes welled with tears. “What the hell is going on?” 

They reached out simultaneously and held hands. 

Brian thought it ironic that their most intimate moment so far was shared through the bars of makeshift prison cells. “Don’t worry. We’re alive and in better shape than when we were ambushed.” He forced a smile. “I wouldn’t think that being in a place like this would freak you out. You did take on a vampire unlike any I’ve ever seen before.” 

She laughed and broke her grasp. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She looked around the room. “So what now, Mister Negotiator?” 

“I’m still trying to piece everything together. I think it’s safe to assume we were kidnapped. As for where we are and how we got here, that’s a mystery.” 

“Then please allow me to assist you in solving that mystery, Mr. Koltz,” said a smooth, deep, resonating voice. 

A man came around the bend on the stairway, walking so quietly his elegant clothing didn’t even rustle. He was dressed in royal blue, shirt and pants the style of the Romantic period: Frilly, long, extravagant. There was a badge over the center of his chest.  

The Undead Army insignia. 

His slicked-back black hair accentuated his widow’s peak. He had bushy eyebrows, a pointy, narrow nose. His lips were thin, face turned up, almost snobbish. His eyes were either a deep brown or a dull black. It was difficult to tell in the flickering light.  

A magnificent piece of jewellery glinted on his finger. It appeared as if the deep-blue gem resting upon the golden ring swirled with an inner mist. 

Brian sat back against the far side of his cage. Only one person had the reputation to make someone feel so afraid and yet enthralled at one time. “Barnaby,” he whispered. 

The vampire smiled and bowed. “I see my reputation precedes me, Mr. Koltz. It is an honor to finally meet you as well.” 

If the reclusive vampire warlord had gone to the extremes of kidnapping him in an impregnable facility, then Brian had better ask the critical questions now. “Where are we? What do you want from us?”

Barnaby mocked a frown. “My, getting right down to business I see. Very admirable, yet I do so enjoy the initial formalities.” He stepped further into the room, hands clasped behind his back. His gait was lucid, like a cat after feasting. 

Brian pointed at himself. “Brian Koltz.” He gestured at the other cage. “Ruby Paige, Barnaby. Barnaby, Ruby Paige.” 

Barnaby strolled up to Ruby’s cage. “I sincerely apologize for involving you in this ordeal, Miss Paige. Please understand it was Koltz here whom I wished to subdue.” His hand shot through the bars and brushed her cheek. “Though I must say your astounding beauty is a pleasurable bonus.” 

She shivered but didn’t speak or cry out.  

He was suddenly in front of Brian’s cage. His speed made their kidnapper look like a lame three-legged gazelle. “After you were subdued by my cohort, you were drugged for your own safety and put onto my private jet. I took the liberty of having my personal healer attend to your wounds with speed and vigilance. You are my guests, nothing less.” 

“Guests?”  

Barnaby nodded. 

“Were the suites all taken?” Brian mumbled. 

“Understand, Mr. Koltz, that I had no choice but to disguise your arrival and place you out of harm’s way. To bring humans inside the castle walls would be to initiate a maniacal hunt that would only end with bloodshed. In order to protect you, my guests, I had to place you into these cages. Large tarps were thrown over them and secured. If anyone had asked—which no one did—then you would have been explained away as exotic animals. And I guarantee no denizens of Haven would have contested my dictates.” 

Brian’s mind whirled. The URC had recently discovered the Undead were calling their home Haven, and the castle itself was called Safehold. 

They were inside the vampire nation within London. 

He gulped, allowing reality to settle in. He needed to know if he’d been betrayed. If the Company had been betrayed. If anyone else there was still in danger. “How were you able to get someone into the URC?” 

“Rest assured, Koltz, no one else there is facing dire circumstances. As I stated before, I only wanted to subdue you. Your friends and coworkers are safe.” 

Brian’s face flushed. His heart raced. Mind-reading was impossible, wasn’t it? Telepathy was confined to fiction. Vampires couldn’t cast a spell and play mind tricks. At least, not the ones he’d met. Yet. “How did you—” 

“Read your mind?” Barnaby stepped close to the bars. “I assure you, I cannot. I have simply been around humans for so long that I am able to pick up on body language and the slightest change in chemical structures.” The smile disappeared, replaced by something more feral. He sniffed, his nostrils flaring, lips parted in a snarl. When he spoke again, his voice was a whisper. “I do not need such powers anyway. I can smell your fear, taste your anxiety, hear your pulse. They say more than words ever can.” 

He stepped back again, facial features normal once more. “I appreciate the fact that you are all business first and foremost, Koltz. But how my colleague was able to retrieve you from within the compound and the reason why you are here are two entirely different matters. And, quite frankly, the reason I have brought you here is more pressing.”  

The vampire flicked his fingers and a flame danced upon the tips of his thumb and pointer finger. Then, just as quickly, he waved his hand and the flame was gone. A small smoke trail rose above him.  

“Just as my little trick has been extinguished, the time for trivialities and peace talk comes to an end. We need a final solution, something that will end everything and allow the two species to live as brothers.” 

Brian suddenly realized why so much trouble had been taken to bring him face to face with the accused monster of the vampire nation. The Undead wanted the platelet, peace and harmony. His gut churned. It didn’t feel right. Barnaby’s intentions were not as simple as his own.  

He was certain of that. 

“Koltz, I want to give you all of the necessary equipment and supplies. I want to fund your experiments until your mushroom is perfected.” A crooked smile appeared on Barnaby’s face. “But most of all, I want to give you however much time you need to see your creation come to fruition.” 

Brian’s eyes widened. The impact of the vampire’s words washed over him, leaving him trembling. From fear? 

Or excitement at the prospect?              

Barnaby chuckled. “Yes, Brian. I have brought you here to aid you in the ultimate creation of the platelet mushroom. The salvation of not only my race, but yours as well. 

“And to give you the gift of immortality.”