Wolf Moon Rising (57 page)

en he remembered that Jackie might be susceptible to a

summons, that she might sense his anguish and come looking for

him. How had she found him at the pool house? Or the night he

had started the car? He closed his eyes and concentrated on her

face, her mind, imagining her hearing his voice, saying to her over and over, “Jackie, where are you? I need you. Please, help me.”

But to his dismay he heard in response to his summons the

mournful and agonized howl of the wolf echoing through the

forest, and cold tremors made his muscles spasm. Th

e werewolf!

And she was out there, so vulnerable, so innocent, and the

monster so close. At that moment true anguish washed though

him. She needed him desperately and he had the means to save

her, but could not reach her. He imagined her terrifi ed eyes, her

desperate attempts to fl ee the bloody jaws, and he silently

screamed at the injustice, a scream that fi lled his chest with

sharp stabs of pain.

If only the werewolf would come for Blair.

Again he bucked the table and wrenched his body, before

he fi nally lay panting and feeling a fool. His eyes fi lled with

tears and he found it hard to breathe. He thought of others fac-

ing death, those dying of the plague, or going to the gallows.

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How were they able to bear those fi nal moments? Were their

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hearts ready to burst? Or men who went into battle almost cer-

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tain they would not make it out alive. Where did they fi nd the

courage?

He bucked the table again and this time it left the fl oor a few

inches and he heard it clatter. He decided when Blair was close

to him, leaning over him, he would lunge at the doctor with all

his weight and using his head as a battering ram, try to knock

him over with his body and the table. He would not do it now for

fear of ending up on the ground even more incapacitated, but the

plan gave him hope and he decided he would fi ght with every-

thing he had, and if death came, he would face it bravely.

Was courage possible? he wondered. Surely Achilles had

been brave when he fell to Paris’ bow. Jean Valjean had shown

nobility. David decided that bravery must lie within, as he

slowed his breathing and had a vision of ac cep tance and sacri-

fi ce, and a beatifi c smile of resignation spread across his lips. At that moment he thought of Jackie and how fortunate he had

been to meet her, to have grown to an age when he could imag-

ine love and to have taken their magical journey together. He

remembered their fl ight through the dark night and their sleep

in the cave, their bodies entwined. Th

ey had lived a lifetime in

those hours. A kind of peace fl owed through him and he eased

her face into the center of his thoughts.

Th

ere was a noise in the room, a door opening and closing,

a shuffl

ing sound, and someone knocked the table where the

instruments lay because they rattled and tinkled on the metal

surface. David held his breath. Th

e doctor had returned. David

could hear his heavy steps, his slow breathing. David tensed, his

body rigid, his eyes wide with terror, but he lay without moving,

his heart exploding in his chest.

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The vampire was still sleeping, and this was a good thing,

thought Blair, not so much trouble. Th

is whole Collins

family was quarrelsome and self- involved. Never had he met

people with such an enormous sense of entitlement. Th

ey seemed

to see themselves as some kind of royalty, demanding, as though

the world spun in its orbit for their personal needs, and peevish

when those needs were not met. Quentin, for example, had been

adamant: “A séance must take place immediately!” and then bel-

ligerent when it did not produce the desired result. He must

study up on séances, Blair thought, as his did not seem to go too

well.

But nevertheless, the doctor was elated, and he put all fail-

ure from his thoughts. Finally the time had come for his break-

through, the experiment that would make him famous in the

annals of science, and he was feverish with excitement. Already

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he could picture the prize at the Royal Society in London, as

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nothing in America would be worthy of this discovery. Th

e

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Royal Society’s motto,
Nullius in verba
, “Take nobody’s word for it,” was the perfect rejoinder to those who scoff ed at the existence of vampires. Yes, the Royal Society would award him a

prize, perhaps a monetary stipend. He might publish a paper in

Philosophical Transactions
, elucidating his discoveries that would be fascinating to the entire scientifi c community, a treatise both applicable to the biological fi elds at the molecular and cellular

level, as well as the disciplines of biochemistry and neuroscience.

His pulse raced and he began to pant as he clumsily arranged

his notebook and pens for recording data and placed in order his

surgical tools, scalpels, cauterizers, and gauze. Fingers twitching, he tested he small circular saw and was pleased to watch it spin

brightly before he set it within reach. Beneath the operating table he placed three large enamel pans. He planned to stem the fl ow

of blood immediately and drain it into the containers, since he

needed clear images on the screen of what ever he discovered.

To his dismay, he found that that the camera had fallen to

the fl oor, and he raised it up gingerly, looking it over carefully and even turning on the reel to assure himself that it was still in working order. It whirred obediently, and he replaced it on the

tripod and secured it carefully. He noticed that the bolt to hold

the camera was loose and he was irritated when it fell forward

instead of remaining upright. Even though his hands were shak-

ing from ner vous ness, he was able to fasten it in place. Stooping over and peering though the lens, he made certain that the body

of the vampire— still beneath the sheet and still sleeping— was

both well lit and in focus. Making a slight adjustment to the

light he felt his body fl are with the heat of anticipation, and

he began to pant noisily.

It occurred to him that he should protect his clothes and he

reached for a full- length rubber apron and wrapped it around

his body. As he buckled the closures, he had a sudden crisis of

confi dence. What would he fi nd, and how would he record it

accurately? He had a tendency toward excitability and rash de-

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cisions. What if he botched the dissection? Th

is might be his

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Lara Parker

only chance, the opportunity of a lifetime. After a year’s long

search, incredibly, he had fi nally trapped a vampire. Would

such good fortune ever come his way again? And irony of iro-

nies, it had turned out to be the boy who had been so contemp-

tuous, dismissing him as though he were nothing but a fool.

Was that a movement beneath the sheet? Blair reached for

the hypodermic needle, fi lled it, and positioned it for another

injection. His body drained of adrenaline, he became suddenly

gutless, and he made a decision. He would keep David asleep so

that he could proceed slowly with his investigation. He did not

want to become hurried and dispatch the vampire before the

creature had surrendered his mysteries. No, he would be cau-

tious and exercise the utmost skill, for this was his fi nest mo-

ment.

After pulling on rubber gloves, once more he arranged the

microscope, the scalpels, knives, and oval saucers. Stretching

up, he turned on the video camera and the red light glowed.

Sweat moistened his upper lip and his eyes watered as he reached

tentatively for the sheet. Trembling with excitement, he took a

breath, uttered a prayer, and slowly pulled the cover away from

the vampire’s face.

He hesitated at the hairline, the hair oddly thick and black,

and then— fl ooded with a sudden foreboding— he jerked the

sheet back in one clumsy motion, uttering a hoarse cry.

A hideous creature was staring up at him, a man with por-

celain skin, sunken cheekbones, deep- set sockets rimmed in

blood, and a malevolent scowl that was more a smile of satisfac-

tion. Glossy black hair curved across his forehead, glistening

fangs emerged from within his crimson lips, and beneath his

shaggy brows the bloodshot eyes gleamed with fi endish cruelty.

Blair’s heart stopped, his hand fl ew to his throat, and he

stumbled back, uttering a chocked cry.

“What? Who are you?”

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A creature such as he had never imagined, lithe and power-

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ful as a caged panther, rose up from the table and fl oated to the fl oor, a black cape fl aring about his feet, his movements lithe

and agile. A man like a god— a man he knew but had never

met— thrust the table aside as though it were nothing but a toy

and came for Blair with his long yellow fi ngers dangling at his

sides.

Floundering helplessly behind him, Blair felt for the saw and

his hand closed around the grip. Flipping it on with his thumb,

he held it before his face and struggled to fi nd his voice but could only manage a hoarse whisper over the whirring blades.

“Barnabas . . . ?”

“Yes, Dr. Blair. It is I. Barnabas. And you will be pleased to

know your search is fi nally over. You have found the prize you

so lusted for. Does that make you happy?” He uttered a low

chuckle and raised his lips in a grimace, uncovering his fangs.

Blair recoiled in terror. “No— No, I . . .”

“Did you really think a young and healthy boy like David

could possibly be one of the living dead? No, my good doctor,

observe me well. Feast your eyes on the monster. Th

is is the look

of death! Behold the vampire!”

And Barnabas stood a moment beneath the garish light, his

face a chalky mask, his eyes raw, his long eyeteeth glistening,

and uttered a growl that came from deep within his frame be-

fore he lunged across the table, scattering the instruments with

a ringing clatter and fl ung his cape around the doctor’s torso.

Helplessly, Blair lashed out with the saw, slicing the fabric of

Barnabas’s waistcoat, but he was not quick enough. With a crip-

pling grip, Barnabas wrapped his fi ngers around the doctor’s

wrist, forced him back upon the gurney, and, taking hold— from

Blair’s limp hand— of the humming saw, aimed the blade to-

ward Blair’s exposed Adam’s apple.

“Clever little instrument,” said Barnabas. “Makes things

easier.”

Paralyzed, Blair saw the blood- rimmed eyes glaring down

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Lara Parker

at him, heard the silvery motor buzz in his ear, felt clawed fi n-

gers dig into his shoulders, and sniveling helplessly, watched the

dark head dip into his neck.

He howled, “No, stop! For God’s sake, no!” But his jugular

exploded and his words were drowned in his own blood.

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The night was quiet, with only the far- off sound of the surf

crashing against the rocks and Jackie’s ragged breathing as she

stumbled through the snow, running and leaping over the hill-

ocks, terrifi ed the werewolf was on her heels. More than once her

fear lifted her into the air; but each time she fell back to the earth.

She had relinquished all her magic, and the painting she had re-

paired with such skill had been stolen from her. Even though she

had given up her powers to be free, she had not escaped Angelique.

When she heard the barks and cries of canines, her body

stiff ened. Th

e almost human yelping and yowling at fi rst con-

fused her until she glimpsed the commotion in a snowy clearing

up ahead. Her throat tightened when she saw what it was.

Th

e beast was bent over, a hunchbacked fi end, surrounded

by Jackie’s coyotes. Th

ey leapt at him from all sides, snarling

and ripping his fur. Jackie cried out to stop them, but they were

yapping hysterically, teeth bared, eyes crazed, as they launched

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themselves again and again at the werewolf ’s neck and fl anks.

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Rumbling in fury, he lifted one coyote into the air and en-