Sixteen
A deep voice with just a trace of a southern accent finally answered my call, bringing with it a mental picture of a large, heavily muscled black man with a dignified manner and incongruously kind brown eyes.
“Ramson Holroyd.”
“Hello, Ramson,” I said, keeping my voice even and devoid of emotion.
“Hello, Roger,” Holroyd replied, using the name he’d known me by in Houston, his voice tightening and becoming less friendly. “Or should I call you Albert?” he asked, trying out to the alias I’d used in New Orleans.
Since no one but TJ and her friends knew I was using my real name of Elijah Pike now, I decided to let him think I was still using the name Albert Nachtman. “Albert will be fine, Ramson,” I answered. “Some mutual acquaintances told me you’d called and asked for them and they wanted me to see just what it is you want.”
“I wanted to see if they could get in touch with you, Albert.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I have some news that I think you should hear.”
“If it’s that Michael Morpheus is alive and on the warpath, I already know that,” I said dryly.
“That’s part of it,” Holroyd answered, a note of surprise in his voice at my awareness of Morpheus’s actions.
“Then, there’s more?”
“Yes. Morpheus is . . . how shall I put it? . . . quite upset that you and your Normal friends are working on a cure for vampirism.”
“Now, why does that not surprise me?” I responded with a low chuckle, as if what Morpheus felt mattered not a whit to me.
Holroyd returned the laugh. “Oh, I guess it shouldn’t really. But what you probably don’t know is that Morpheus is calling in the troops. He is in the process of contacting every vampyre he knows or can find and is trying to enlist them in a sort of holy war against you and your friends lest you manage to decimate our race with your vaccine.”
I laughed at that. “I guess you know the real reason Morpheus is so intent on finding us is to exact vengeance on the woman he transformed, the woman who later betrayed him and helped me try to kill him.”
“Ah,” Ramson said, “I’d heard something about that, but it is so rare for one of our mates to desert us, I hadn’t given the rumors much credence.”
“Believe it, Ramson. Morpheus doesn’t give a shit about any vaccine, real or imagined. He’s in this for a personal vendetta, nothing more.”
“Well, no matter what his real reasons are, Albert, he’s certainly working very hard to get the entire vampyre community up in arms against you and your friends, and I can tell you for a fact there are plenty of our race out there who are concerned about you working on a vaccine and who are willing to go to any lengths to prevent it from happening.”
I held my tongue for a moment as I thought through the implications of what Holroyd had just told me. Eluding Morpheus, with his mental bond to Sam, was going to be difficult enough; if he managed to co-opt a large number of other vampyres into his quest, it would be damn near impossible to remain hidden for very long.
“Why are you telling me this, Ramson?” I asked. “From what I remember in my discussions with the Vampyre Council in Houston, you were one of the ones who said you were proud to be a member of the vampyre race and that you would never avail yourself of any vaccine that might make you Normal again.”
Holroyd’s voice became harder, almost harsh when he responded. “Do you have any idea of what it was like to be a black man two hundred years ago, Albert, in the time of slavery?”
“No,” I answered slowly. “There were very few blacks where I grew up in Maine, and no slaves whatsoever.”
“Well, I do, and I still remember the rule of the bullwhip. I still have scars on my back that even the vampyre bug couldn’t erase,” Holroyd said bitterly. “There was no choice for a black man then, other than to take it or die.”
I had nothing to say to that, and Holroyd’s voice was calmer when he continued. “So, I guess you could say I’m in favor of each man and woman controlling their own destiny. I am proud to be a vampyre, and I personally will never partake of your vaccine if you manage to conjure up one that works. But, it is not for me or anyone else to say what someone else should do.”
“Does that mean that you won’t help Morpheus track us down?” I asked.
“I won’t help him,” Holroyd answered, “but I won’t join against him either. I prefer to stay on the sidelines and see how all this plays out.”
“Kind of like those nice people in the South who didn’t own slaves themselves but did nothing to stop the practice, huh?” I asked, an edge in my voice.
There was silence on the phone for more than a minute, and I wondered if Holroyd had hung up.
Then, he answered in a low, thoughtful voice. “You have a point, Albert, I have to admit that. I may have to give my position a little more thought, but I’m not promising anything more helpful than neutrality.”
“Thank you, Ramson,” I said, “And forgive my words of a moment ago. You are right; I have absolutely no idea what you went through back in the dark ages of our country and so I have no right to judge your actions now.”
I gave him my cell phone number. “Feel free to call me anytime, Ramson, no matter what you decide,” I said. “And, for what it’s worth, I am sorry about what I did to your friends in the Houston Council. At the time, I felt I had no choice but to fight or die.”
“They were good people, Albert. They were just doing what they thought was best for our race, just as you are now.” The big man cleared his throat and continued. “I’ll admit, for a time all I thought about was revenge. In fact, that is the reason I contacted the council in New Orleans, to get them to help me find you.”
“And now, Ramson? Are you still aching to take my head?” I asked dryly.
Holroyd gave a low chuckle. “Let’s just say that on further reflection I realized you didn’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter. As you say, at the time, it was either you or them, though for all our sakes I kinda wish it had been you who was killed rather than them.”
“Like they say, Ramson, war is hell, no matter who wins,” I replied and gently cut the connection.
I sat staring at the phone for a moment, wondering just how my friends and I were going to escape the wrath of Morpheus and the rest of the vampyres who didn’t want a vaccine to be made. One thing was certain; TJ and the others couldn’t survive on their own. We were going to need to get some help, but I was damned if I knew how.
* * *
Finally, I picked up the phone and dialed TJ’s number, unsure of just how much of what Holroyd had told me I should share with them. Forewarned is forearmed, but too much information might frighten them into immobility just when they needed to act fast and decisively.
My thoughts were interrupted when TJ answered the phone, the sound of her voice again making my heart pound and my mouth go dry.
“Hello?” she said, her voice as throaty and sexy as ever, causing a tingle to run down my spine and into my groin.
“Hello, TJ,” I answered, trying to keep the yearning I still felt for her out of my voice.
“Hello, Elijah,” she replied. “Did you get a chance to talk to Holroyd?” she asked, getting right to the point.
I shivered and had to shake myself to put aside the sexual thrill of hearing her sweet voice again.
“Yes, I just got off the phone with him,” I said. “It seems Morpheus is not content with just trying to find you and kill you and take Sam back for his mate. He’s also trying to enlist all the vampyres he can find to help him destroy me, too, and to prevent our making a vaccine against the vampyre bug.”
“Sweet Jesus,” TJ whispered.
“I have a couple of questions for you and then a suggestion about how to handle this new threat,” I said, ignoring the hammering of my heart as I heard her breathing into the phone.
I could sense the strain in TJ’s voice when she spoke and I knew that she was trying to suppress similar feelings at hearing my voice. The revelation that she still had feelings for me was not unpleasant.
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Have the treatments Dr. Wingate and I came up with been successful on you and Sam?”
TJ cleared her throat. “Um, yes, for the most part. We haven’t had any conscious desires to feed or to Hunt . . .” and she hesitated for just a second before continuing. “But, there have been some isolated instances where we took blood from our lovers. It was just a little bit and they’ve suffered no harm and didn’t even realize we’d done it,” she hastened to add, as if trying to excuse herself.
I sighed. I’d expected something of the sort. Since the act of feeding for a vampyre is closely associated with sexual desire, the act of lovemaking is one of the most potent initiators for the Hunger. “Don’t beat yourselves up over that, TJ. It’s only natural that during sex with a loved one you might revert to a small bite or two. It will be almost impossible for any vaccine we might concoct to completely eradicate that natural instinct.”
“If that’s as far as it goes, I think we can all handle it okay,” she replied, relief evident in her tone.
“Now, as for my suggestion,” I said. “Do you remember what we had to do when we decided to go up against The Ripper, Morpheus and their cohorts in New Orleans?”
“Yes. I quit taking my treatments and let myself revert back to full vampyre status.”
“Well, now that Morpheus has enlisted the help of an unknown number of other vampyres in his quest to kill us and reclaim Sam as his mate, there is only one way you and Sam are going to be able to survive an attack by him or his friends.”
I heard her take a deep breath over the phone, and when she replied, there was a tremble of both fear and anticipation in her voice. “Yes, we know,” she said, her voice dropping into a harsh whisper. “Sam and I have already decided to stop the treatments until we are sure that Morpheus is no longer a threat.”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to alarm her more than was necessary, but I wanted to make sure she completely understood the implications of what she and Sam were doing. “TJ,” I began slowly, my voice full of sympathy and understanding, “You do know that once the treatments are out of your bloodstream, the Hunger will return?”
“We’ve already thought of that,” she replied. “Before we leave town, Sam and I are going to go to the hospital blood bank and stock up on some of the blood there that is out of date.”
I shook my head. I’d tried that myself long ago. Banked blood would keep a vampyre alive, but it didn’t satisfy the terrible urges engendered by the voracious appetite of the Hunger.
“That won’t work for long, TJ,” I said. “Not without the treatments. Sooner or later, the Hunger is going to demand a living victim. Try as you might, you will give in eventually.”
“No!” she said in a strangled voice. “Never!”
I took a deep breath. Perhaps it was better to let her learn the awful truth herself. The Hunger was a harsh and terrible mistress and would not long be denied.
“TJ, just remember. When the time comes, and come it will, you do not have to kill to feed. You can use your mental powers to cause your victims to submit and then you can eradicate all memory of the event from their minds. The Hunger will demand more, but nonlethal feedings will keep it at bay for a time.”
“Goddamn you, Elijah!” she cried into the phone. “What kind of hell have you and your kind gotten us into?”
Her scorn and anger pierced my heart, reawakening levels of guilt I hadn’t felt for a long time. “Merely the kind we live with every day of our lives, TJ,” I replied softly, my heart breaking at the hate in her voice. “Performing the Rite of Transformation on you to make you my mate was not the worst sin I’d ever committed, not by a long shot, but it is the one I regret the most.”
She sobbed. “I know, Elijah, and I’m sorry for what I said. I know that you are a good person in your heart.”
“Thank you, TJ,” I said, red-tinged tears filling my eyes. “Now, back to more practical matters. Once you’ve gotten a few hundred miles from Houston, give me a call back so I’ll know you’re safe.”
“Okay, Elijah.”
“Do you have plenty of money for the trip?” I asked.
“Yes. The hotel has an ATM and we can all get as much as we need.”
“Okay, but be sure not to use it until you are ready to leave the place, and then don’t go back for any reason, and do not use your credit cards once you leave Houston. Use only cash.”
“Why?” TJ asked.
“Because we don’t know who Morpheus will get to help him. Vampyres are everywhere in our society, TJ, leading normal lives for the most part. If Morpheus has allies that work for credit card companies, or even in law enforcement circles, your movements could be traced by pulling up your credit card charges.”
“Jesus, I didn’t realize y’all were so widespread in society.”
“There are many more of us out there than anyone suspects,” I told her. “And most keep a very low profile when they’re not feeding.”
“All right,” TJ said, her voice subdued. “We’ll be very careful.”
“Then, I’ll wait to hear from you. Good-bye, my dear, and good luck.”
I slowly closed the phone and stared out of my window, alone once again with my memories of what might have been.