SCROLLS OF THE DEAD-3 Complete Vampire Novels-A Trilogy (6 page)

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Mentor tried to explain things to Dell. Dell's aunt, Celia Widen, sat nearby. Celia held onto Dell's hand and now and again patted it. Mentor said, "The Cravens and Naturals, just like the Predators, also need fresh blood, but their fangs only go into blood bags, not into the flesh of humankind. Without new blood with living cells, a vampire perishes. His veins collapse, the arteries shrink, the heart shrivels. Finally, the muscles atrophy, the brain softens in the skull, and the skin dries to crusty leather. I know this is graphic, but you have to understand everything." He paused to see how she was taking the information. She did not look as horrified as he expected. Probably because she knew some of this already.

He continued, "It's a horrible thing to see a vampire die of starvation. It's a torturously slow process. Only lack of blood or fire can end a vampire's life. If he loses a limb, his cells grew a new one. If he's injured, the cells renew the flesh. As for crosses and holy water and the silly ropes of garlic necklaces—well, that's merely myth and superstition. There are far worse obstacles to contend with than Stoker could have ever imagined for his infamous Count Dracula."

Dell smiled.

"Deprive a vampire of new blood and he'll eventually dry to dust and be gone. Burn him in an inferno and his cells have no chance to renew and will turn to cinder. Otherwise, our kind, or at least our minds and souls, are impervious to the effects of aging, death, and destruction."

As Mentor sat at Dell's bedside, he knew she struggled to come back into the world as a new being. That struggle was almost as difficult as facing her death or choosing which path her soul should follow. He imparted his strength to her, pulsing waves out from his own strong body to surround her, in the same way a supernatural human healer cured the ill by radiating energy through his hands. Soon he would have to leave. Already he had telepathically received pleas for his assistance from others going through the same process as Dell, and he must be there to guide them. The cries were piteous and urgent. Save me. Help me. Find me and take me from the arms of destruction.

Mentor turned his attention fully back to Dell and saw she was trying to tell him something. He opened the channel and listened to her thoughts. You can go, she told him. I'll be all right. Aunt Celia will see about me.

"Yes," he told her, "you will. You will be fine now. You'll find a way to rise and walk again. Your parents and your brother love you and want you with them. This is the dawning of your new life."

One single tear fell from her eyes. Mentor reached out and plucked it from her cheek with his finger. It was her blood. He tasted it to discover if she could make the journey without a transfusion. He found it metallic and cold, but with enough red cells to keep her going until she was strong enough to drink on her own.

"I have to go away for a while," he said aloud. "You know why. There are always others who need me. But I'll be back. We'll set up sessions once you're on your feet. You'll go back to school and resume your life. For a while, you will come to me every day and I'll teach you what you need to know to survive."

Thank you, she said, and he could feel her struggling to lift her hand to him. He patted her shoulder and stood.

"I'm happy to be of service," he said, smiling warmly. "Good-bye, Celia." She nodded her head at him.

He was about to turn away and leave when he heard Dell's thoughts scrambling after him, seeking an answer to a question. He leaned down and stared into her open eyes. "What is it? What do you need to know so desperately?"

What are you? What are you, Mentor?

He knew she meant what sort of vampire was he. He glanced at Celia. She knew almost everything of the vampire life though she was not one. He looked back down at his charge.

"I am not a god," he said. "I know that's what you're thinking. That I must be a god to know so much and to have the ability to enter death's arms with you. But, my dear, I am merely old and experienced. It's been my duty to do this for hundreds of years. And I am. . . technically. . . a Predator." He could see the surprise and fear mingling in her eyes. Again he patted her shoulder and said, "Reformed. A reformed Predator. I've lived so many thousands of years that I've gone beyond evil and crossed over into understanding. I can kill—easily—and decide not to. At least most of the time." He knew guilt had crept into his eyes and he turned away so she wouldn't see. "I take my blood as you will, artificially, not from the living flesh. Most of the time." He was incapable of telling a lie.

He knew her mind was eased, though she could not possibly understand how many hundreds of years he had fought to free himself from the thirst to kill. She could not imagine the pain he had endured and the willpower he had exerted in order to change himself from one of the greatest and most powerful leaders of the Predators into a creature who had sworn to help others along the passage. Nor could she ever fathom why, even now, he would kill when it meant preserving the secret of their clan or when a Predator could not be restrained and threatened to give them all away by his wanton acts of murder.

Like shifting shadow, he moved from the room.

He would say good-bye to her family, assure them she was coming along, and exhort them to help her until his return.

The calls for help thrummed through his brain from the dying. Dozens of voices called to him. He must hurry. He must save some of them from choosing the wrong path.

It was his duty. His job. His reason to exist.

Chapter 5

Dell watched Mentor leave and immediately fell into a panic. Her throat closed as if it were a sock being twisted and wrung by strong hands. Her mind would not behave or obey, falling first into despair at her predicament then leaping toward joy at the mere thought of living forever with her family at her side. She must get control of her seesawing emotions. They swayed through her—swinging pendulums of fear, hope, disgust, and loathing, self-pity, and sudden elation. She was in danger of losing her mind.

She had heard of that happening before during the change. The result was permanent madness. An insanity that never relented. Predators hunted those who went mad and put them down. They were caught out in the open, away from anyone who might help them, and set on fire. While they burned in agony, a ring of Predators watched, showing no mercy, laughing, swearing at the dying one and condemning him to utter darkness.

She must not let go of her mind. She must not let this defeat her. More than anything she wanted to live. She was too young to go mad and find herself hunted and killed. She had hardly even begun her life yet. Even if she had to live as a vampire, she meant to do it.

She felt Aunt Celia squeeze her hand. She tried to squeeze it back but couldn't. From the corner of her eyes she saw someone enter the room. It was Eddie. He was fourteen now, though he had stopped growing at twelve. He was a big boy who had nearly reached his adult height when the change had happened. Soon, of course, he would have to leave the family and go away. The school authorities, teachers, neighbors, and his friends would finally realize he had not changed over the years, had not grown, had not physically aged in any way.

Nevertheless, inside the body the cells aged, like those of the cloned sheep, Dolly—who looked younger than her clone, but was actually aging quickly. In each vampiric cell the march of time continued and wore the youthful-looking body completely out. The heart tired of working, the kidneys failed, the liver and lungs and stomach all surrendered in the end to the march of time.

Eddie would be sent to live with relatives in another state. Her parents would make trips to see him, but for all practical purposes, Eddie would be lost to them. He would become a wanderer, moving from clan to clan, from family to family, in order to keep secret the fact he never aged. One day the trips her parents made to see him would grow less frequent until finally Eddie would be entirely on his own in the world. It was hardest on the ones who changed when so young. They couldn't really have a normal life with humans unless they kept on the move.

Since the change came on now when she was seventeen, almost eighteen, she would be able to remain at home for some time, aging her face over the years with skillfully applied makeup and disguising her young body with more mature choices in clothes.

"Dell?" Eddie's voice was soft and young, his voice having never changed. In the dark room, without seeing him, he could be any age, from five to twelve.

"She can't talk yet," Celia said.

"I know, but she can talk to me in here." Eddie pointed to his head.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"You don't have to."

Celia gave Dell a kiss and stood, disengaging her hand from Dell's. "I'll see about your mother. I'll be back, Dell."

Once Celia had left the room, Eddie again called Dell's name. She wanted to answer him, but still couldn't control her vocal cords. She sent out her thoughts to him instead. Hi, Eddie. This is a terrible thing, isn't it? I never knew it was so bad for you.

"Aww, you couldn't know. No one knows until you go through it."

She kept silent, not knowing what thought to project.

"Dell? Maybe I can help. It just takes practice to do everything again, that's all. I know how hard it is. It's kind of like . . . well, like relaxation techniques, only turned on their heads. You know how you can hypnotize yourself?"

No, I don't.

"Well, you lie down and begin at your feet, relaxing your toes first, then the arch of your foot, then the ankle, and on up the body all the way to your brain. It relaxes people who get all stressed out." He grinned, and she loved him so much at that moment she wanted to leap from the bed and hug him tight. He looked so young, but he'd already lived two successful years in his new life. He was just a kid. A boy. Her little brother. And a very wise vampire already.

"Anyway, what you do is send thoughts down to your toes, just as if you were going into relaxation, but instead of telling your toes to relax, you tell them to wake up. Get it? Wake up, Toes!"

If she could have laughed, it would have been a big, openmouthed true laugh. She laughed instead in her mind at how seriously her brother had said, "Wake up, Toes!"

"Once you have the toes awake, you move up the foot to the ankle, to the calves of your legs, to your knees, thighs, abdomen, chest, arms, and finally to your neck and head. If you'll try, I know you can do it. That's how Mentor taught me how to move again.

Mentor had to go away.

"I know. That's why I'm here telling you stuff. Just concentrate on your toes, okay? Tell them they belong to you and you mean for them to work right again. You just can't get anywhere without toes."

She saws grin widen and knew he was trying for humor to urge her along in an easy way. Never mind that this was the most serious of endeavors. Never mind that it would determine whether or not she could ever return to the world again.

"Go ahead," he said, leaning over the bed to throw back the hem of her gown. He stared at her toes like a surgeon waiting to see if his operation had left her paralyzed or if she would recover feeling in her extremities. "Go on, move them. Think, Dell, put your spine into it. Think about moving your toes, then we'll get your feet moving. You've got to do this. It's the only way."

She knew he would not leave her alone unless she showed some sign of progress. She focused on her feet. She narrowed in on just the tips of her toes, imagining where they were, the dark copper nail polish she had used on them the day before, the way her second toe was longer than her big toe. There, she could visualize them now. Not bad feet, as feet went. Not too large, the skin smooth and tan from a summer swimming at the area pool.

She could move them if she wanted, that's what Eddie was saying. If she really wanted to move them, she could. It was all within reach. She had to exert her will for the first time in her life. She'd do it, she knew she could.

Move, she commanded.

She visualized first stretching and then clenching her toes. If they would move, she could consider herself on the road back to life. She must make them obey.

Move.

"That's it!" Eddie yelled, "it's working, you're doing it, I knew you could do it!"

MOVE.

Stretch. Clench.

MOVE!

Wriggle. She wanted them to wriggle, she wanted her toes to go crazy, she wanted them to dance like individual ballet stars. She wanted to do so well that Eddie would jump right out of his skin he'd be so happy for her.

She thought she could feel them moving now.

"Your ankles, concentrate, Dell. Twist your feet around from the ankle. You can do it. You have to do it, it's just a little more effort, a little more."

Dell saw her parents come into the room. They quietly approached the bed, and Eddie turned to them, grinning like a monkey. "She's coming back," he fairly shouted. "Dell's moving her feet."

Her mother brushed a hand across her cold brow. Dell could not yet blink, so she was able to see the fine lines in her mother's palm. It struck her now for the first time that her mother had borne both her children before the disease struck. Neither her mother nor her father had been a vampire yet. They'd taken an awful chance having children, knowing that later they might fall ill and both their offspring after them. How could her mother have had the courage to have a family? How had they ever made that decision?

Dell's father knelt beside the bed and took her lax hand into his own. "Come on, baby. Eddie's right. You have to move, or there will be marks on your skin where the blood has settled. They'll last a long time. You won't be able to go anywhere people can see you for a very long time. You have life. Now you have to animate the body before it's too late."

Dell tried, Lord have mercy, she was trying. She let go of all thoughts except those centered on her feet and legs. She visualized moving up her body, commanding it to respond, just as Eddie had told her to do. She felt her calves clench then relax. She felt her thighs tighten and loosen. She felt her stomach contract then expand, as if she'd taken a breath all the way down to her belly. She felt her chest walls push apart, and then her throat opened by only the will of her thought processes. Next she concentrated on her lips, her tongue, her vocal cords. Finally, her nose, ears, eyes, eyebrows. She could sense every individual hair on her head, from root to hair end.