The Human-Undead War Trilogy (Book 1): Dark Intentions (37 page)

He is at peace here, in this place.
 

He pauses outside the front door. He doesn’t know where to begin to explain to Catherine what he has been through. The torment, the rage, the final everlasting peace. Why was he even upset the last day he saw her?
 

He doesn’t care. He’s home, and that is enough.
 

He shivers, his hand on the knob, a sense of deja vu creeping over him. Memories flood back into him: the discovery, the deaths, the outright criminal controlling of his mind by the devious Undead self-pronounced leader, the sacrifice by a brave young man to right the wrongs of the past and shed light upon a brighter future. Immediacy overwhelms him. He shoves the door open, words strangling his throat, hands shaking so horribly that his nerves will be irrevocably frayed. 
 

The inside of the house is cluttered yet clean. Banners hang everywhere, with balloons and flowers arranged on the marble table in the kitchen. The table in the adjacent dining room is set up, with plates and glasses and silverware, a bottle of wine in a bucket, and lit candles. The hallway is empty, void of shoes or toys or clutter, as he was accustomed to. Everything looks exactly as it did the day he came home after discovering the vampires.
 

And it was still deathly quiet. No voices, no footsteps, no radio.
 

No sounds whatsoever.
 

No smells of cooked food.
 

No scents wafting toward him. 
 

He feels alone. He shakes his head and the negativity subsides. His wife and their son John, Jr., his daughter-in-law Sarah, and their two children, William and Tina, are hiding in the living room, waiting to scare him. They are keeping silent as mice, ready to welcome him home and hug him and forgive him his travesties and ask of his adventures.
 

The living room glows, shades open, curtains flung wide, white light filtering in and blinding him as he enters. He pauses at the end of the hallway. His eyes adjust.
 

Bodies jump at him from every angle, smothering him in hugs and kisses. Catherine stands apart, a sleek grin on her cherub face.
 

He can’t speak, overwhelmed, free of bonds that can never hold him again. He rushes to Catherine, wraps his arms around her, guides her back to the entire family. They all embrace long and hard.
 

Then he weeps.
 

He weeps and weeps joyous tears for what feels like an eternity.

Chapter 44

Brian sped across the battlements, not uttering a sound. Across the way, Barnaby stared out over the horizon and the Thames below. A light breeze kicked up, blowing the Undead leader’s royal blue ruffled shirt sleeves.  

“Ah, Koltz. I did not believe you would be so anxious to see me upon my return.” Barnaby turned around. He was less pale than usual, almost tan. Head back, black hair tied tight in a ponytail, regal as ever. “Things went well whilst I was away, I assume?” 

Brian should’ve known it would be impossible to sneak up on the most powerful vampire. He shrugged. “Not so bad.” He wanted to dance around the issues but decided against it. A more direct approach would be best. “We need to talk.” 

“What do you wish to speak of?” 

“I believe you have many secrets that need to come to light.” 

Barnaby turned away again and leaned upon a merlon. “I have nothing to hide, Koltz.” 

“I might have believed that at some point. But I no longer do. The facts add up. You’ve lied to me.” 

“You have been talking to unreliable sources.” 

“John Ashmore sure seems like a reliable source to me.” 

Barnaby faced Brian and smiled. “You certainly took my advice to make yourself comfortable in my home.” As was his tendency, he averted his gaze and twirled the ring on his finger. “I thought I had ensured Ashmore stayed out of the limelight. He is quite delusional, you know.” 

“You didn’t take the necessary steps. I spoke to him. In depth. About many things, things I can’t quite fathom, things I don’t want to believe. But I wouldn’t say he was delusional. I think you made him go insane on purpose.” 

Barnaby stepped close to Brian. His voice was low. “You would do best to mind your own business, Koltz. Step aside. I have matters to attend to. Including Ashmore.” 

“No,” Brian said, shocked by his own firmness. He clenched his fists at his side, determined. “Out with it.” 

“With what? What do you wish me to divulge, Koltz?” 

“Start with your daughter.” 

Barnaby took a step back, eyebrows raised.  

“You told me it was impossible for vampires to procreate.” 

Barnaby slouched and looked to the horizon once more. “I was ashamed of her, Koltz. I have seen how you look at Ruby. How she looks at you. I only lied to you to protect you from having to go through similar agony in the future.” 

“Why would you be ashamed of your child?” 

“She was weak. Fragile. She was—” 

“Not like you?” 

Barnaby pursed his lips and nodded. “She was born a human. Around early adolescence, she manifested certain Undead traits. Fangs. Claws instead of fingernails. Pasty skin. Blisters from minimal sun exposure. She had all the looks and superhuman strength, but, alas, nothing else. None of the true advantages and gifts of our race.” 

“So you shunted her away to some hidden cavern.” 

“Do not make it sound as if I abandoned her outright. I brought her animals, comrades. I did not leave here there to die. I would have done the same for any of my weaker brethren.” 

Brian’s lip curled in disgust. “She was your daughter.” 

“She was pathetic! Parading around with humans! They grew suspicious, taunting and teasing her. She refused to lash out at them, even after I taught her to kill. She was a disgrace to vampires everywhere.” Barnaby’s lip trembled. He turned away. “It doesn’t matter. Her mother could see it, Koltz. She could see how weak humans were, how weak the offspring of a human and an Undead could be. She did not want to be human anymore, either.” 

“And does she know your daughter is dead?” 

The ponytail wagged back and forth. “She loves children too much, and I love her too much. I only told her that our daughter had fled. Nothing more.” 

It suddenly clicked: Barnaby was talking about Stella. He gulped back anxiety and decided to move the discussion in a different direction. “If she was such a disgrace, why’d you kill John’s family?” 

“Ashmore had no right to take her away,” Barnaby said. He stepped toward Brian, tendons bulging in his neck. “Humans had no right being in that cave, period.” 

“So John wasn’t delusional. You really did kill his family.” 

“And what of it? You would have done the same if someone had killed your only child.” 

Brian gawked at Barnaby. Would he? Would he have killed someone to avenge a fallen family member? Brian had spared his mother’s wretched Undead existence out of love, not out of revenge. He shook his head. Revenge was so dark in comparison. 

“Are we done with the interrogation now? Or would you like to dredge up other loathsome memories?” 

“The war has intensified.” 

“What General Hammers does on the battlefield is his choice.” 

“So he was the one who decided to fight machetes with gunfire?” 

Barnaby shrugged. “We stumbled upon a weapons cache and decided to use it. I see no harm in abiding by the rules of war.” 

“But you beat a man until he revealed the location to you.” 

Barnaby stared down at his feet, silent. 

“I also know you kidnapped those scientists,” Brian continued, hoping to get some kind of reaction. “I know you created those monsters.”  

Barnaby looked back up. “I figured a scientist of your caliber would appreciate the effort it took to crossbreed such “monsters,” as you prefer to call them. It was no easy task.” 

Brian almost lost his hold on the anger coursing through him. He’d denied Barnaby’s involvement in creating the new beasts before his closest friend. He’d shunned Keith’s theory of a connection between Barnaby, the first vampire killed, and the beasts. The warmth spread up his chest and his cheeks became hot with embarrassment.  

Through clenched teeth, he said, “You claim you want peace, but that’s bullshit. You’re ripping humans apart, and I don’t think you even care.” 

“Oh, but I do care, Koltz.” Barnaby walked back to the merlons and crenels, hands clasped behind his back. “I care about my brethren. I thought that much was obvious from the beginning. The weapons. My beautiful creations. This is Darwinism at its finest. Natural selection. 

 “As it stands right now, harmony does not loom on the horizon. I am not one to sit by whilst the likes of you toil over right and wrong, continually neglecting your civil responsibilities. I also do not trust humanity to uphold peace should a solution present itself. Therefore, the war will wage on until the solution becomes a reality.” 

“It is a reality.” Brian paused for effect. “I’ve created the platelet mushroom.” 

“I knew you would, Koltz. Sooner than I had expected, I shall admit.” Barnaby turned to face him again. “You do not know how appreciative I am that you took Ashmore off my hands for me.” 

Brian had been certain news of John’s death would cripple the Undead leader. 
So much for the element of surprise.
 “How do you—” 

“Know that you convinced Ashmore to help you create the platelet?” Barnaby’s eyes turned pitch-black. “Because I orchestrated the plan myself.” 

Barnaby appeared in front of him. Brian stood stock-still, tense and poised.  

The Undead leader walked around him, speaking in a low rumble. “Almost a decade ago, I tasted Ashmore’s blood. In the laboratory, on your first tour of Safehold, I tasted yours. It was the same type. A delicacy throughout the ages, a rarity in modern times. It was what made the two of you alike.  

“I knew then what you were overlooking in your platelet experiments. Your desperation to discover the simple solution was palpable. I could smell it in your perspiration, hear it in the lull of your voice. Desperation blinded you to the reason why your experiment continued to fail again and again. I knew then that you would accept the supreme gift of becoming an Undead. You had to. You believed in your feeble human mind that longevity—immortality—was the only solution.  

“I turned you and trained you in the art of being an Undead, thereby enabling you to finally discover what you had been missing all along. Attuned to your new powers, your new body, you would see what you could not as a human. The immortality you deemed necessary would free you from your bonds of desperation.  

“I also knew, eventually, you would find Ashmore. Or he would find you. But not when I was around. I knew him too well. He would not strike whilst I was in Haven. He was too much of a coward for that. So I belittled him, made him feel more useless than usual, and stoked his all-consuming anger. I knew his hatred would project onto you and smolder like hot embers. And it must have, or you would not be here now. 

“Let me guess. He tried to kill you, hmm?” Barnaby’s pace slowed, his voice in Brian’s ear. “No. He set others after you first, didn’t he? Vincent and his cronies, perhaps?” 

Brian’s lips were pressed together so tight that they were numb from the force.  

“Good riddance. They were almost as annoying as Ashmore.” Barnaby resumed his speedy pace around Brian. “I figured you would discover the secret to the platelet in due time. I had hoped you would experiment on others first only to discover that, lo-and-behold, the willing volunteer with the blood type you needed was right here all along. And although I suspected this inevitable confrontation, this is not what I envisioned. Not so soon. 

“However, I am quite proud at the moment.” Barnaby stopped in front of him, locked gazes, and winked. “This plan could not have worked out any better.” 

It dawned on Brian that Barnaby hadn’t known his blood type until after he’d been kidnapped. “You had planned on killing Ruby and me if I hadn’t undergone the transformation.” 

“I was going to force you to tell me what I needed to know about the platelet. Then I was going to assuage my bloodlust and dine on your corpses, yes.” 

“Then why did you offer me immortality the first night?” 

“I was going to drag it out, make you feel comfortable, then strike. But tasting your blood, I knew Ashmore was the key. I decided to pit him against you, turn you, keep you preoccupied so I could pursue my own endeavors.” 

Brian smirked. “Your business trips. What’s so important in Egypt that requires so much attention?” 

“You already know the answer. Think, Koltz.” 

John’s final fragmented phrases echoed in Brian’s mind. 
“It’s what Barnaby craves.”
 “Magic,” Brian whispered, his stomach churning. The word sounded hollow, fake. 

“Our birthright, Koltz.” Barnaby whizzed by. “Magic is the source of all of your abilities: Speed, vision, healing, immunity to sunlight, levitation, reattachment. It emanates from your eyes. It swells within you. It is the logical rationalization of everything your sciences cannot explain.” 

Brian scoffed. “How come we don’t know anything about it then? Wouldn’t a human have stumbled on it at some point in history?” 

“Only the Undead may use it. It is ours to command, to wield. Humans are too feeble in mind and body to withstand its raw power. That is why they cannot mate with vampires, for human offspring cannot withstand the mutations necessary to transform into the purest form of our race. Only by injecting our powers—our virus, as you would call it—directly into a human, and after they in turn drink human blood, can they truly embrace our race. Magic—and therefore vampirism—is a glorious privilege.  

“Of course, there are balances to such great power. The sun saps magic reserves and blood consumption is the only way to replenish them. Magic also remains unpredictable during transference, which is why we all have varying degrees of powers or differing powers altogether. And, obviously, being the first vampire, I possess the most potent powers, including one that has never passed to any of my victims.  

“Until you came along. We can thank you for understanding the vast potential my own blood carries.”  

Barnaby chuckled as Brian furrowed his brow in confusion. “After seeing that all my powers had transferred to you, I decided to unleash my recent creations upon the world to see what they inherited from me as well. And I was quite surprised to learn that they are masterpieces. Bigger and better than myself, even. 

“I am the past and present of our race. The mist wraiths and jackals are the future. And your platelet will ensure our glorious evolution.”  

Brian’s words bubbled out laced with venom. “Why are you so goddamned infatuated with the platelet? What does it have to do with magic?” 

Barnaby stopped pacing behind Brian, voice low and ominous once more. “Everything. The platelet will enable us to take our rightful throne as the superior beings on this planet. You, however, will not survive to see this grand, brilliant future. I have revealed far too much, and there is so much more at stake.” 

Brian shivered as icy fingers locked onto the back of his neck. 

“Goodbye, Koltz.”