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Savannah Vampire - The Vampire's Secret Part 8

Savannah Vampire - The Vampire's Secret - LightNovelsOnl.com

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Melaphia narrowed her eyes. "We can see through you."

"Yeah?" Werm looked down at himself. "Cool."

The instant he decided he was cool, he firmed up. Solidified, that is. "You haven't noticed this before tonight?" I asked. Werm shook his head.

"This could be useful," William observed. "I wonder..."

I knew what he was thinking. "If you practiced, maybe you could be completely invisible."



"Gee, I don't know. I don't know what I did to go transparent just now."

"I do," Eleanor purred. Catlike, she rose from the love seat and walked toward the sofa where Werm and I sat. She slid onto the sofa, her knees straddling Werm, whose eyes grew to the size of golf b.a.l.l.s. Without actually touching him, Eleanor leaned forward, bringing her lovely-and generous-b.r.e.a.s.t.s to within millimeters of Werm's face. Then she whispered something close to his ear. He looked so pale I expected him to swoon like a virgin, facefirst into her cleavage. The boy had no clue what to do with a woman like Eleanor. But instead, quite suddenly Eleanor looked to be straddling thin air.

"Oh, I get it," Melaphia said. "He goes invisible when he's embarra.s.sed."

"It would seem so," William observed as he took Eleanor's hand to help her up and away from the invisible Werm. "How many times did we, as adolescents, wish we could disappear when forced to endure an awkward moment?"

"The voodoo blood must help him actually do it," I said. "Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned." I couldn't see Werm's silly grin, but William's expression of disgust proved that Werm was also going to have to learn to hide his thoughts the best he could. Right now even I could pick them up, and I wasn't his sire. He was thinking about women's locker rooms.

William "You're going to have to learn to control this, Lamar. We don't want you causing a stir by disappearing in public. This is an even better reason to explore our strengths. Not only to find them but to learn how to use them effectively."

"Yeah," Jack added. "Maybe this whole flying thing could come in handy over at the Oglethorpe Speedway. Even if I couldn't make the car fly, I could cut down on the-" He glanced toward Eleanor. "-pardon the expression, deadweight, by floating above the seat-"

"Jack!" Melaphia interrupted. "The blood of the Vodoun is not meant to be used to win bets at a racetrack. Now hush and let's get started."

Jack sat back, but I could see that his mind was still working. I moved over to sit by Eleanor and discovered Deylaud had returned and settled cross-legged at her feet. In human form, he wasn't much better at hiding his fascination with her than as a canine. Unwilling to set the group off on another tangent, I didn't comment. I simply gave him a warning look before pulling Eleanor closer to me.

Melaphia shut her eyes and drew in a breath deep enough to straighten her spine. Then, eyes open, she moved to face the group.

"Most people think Vodoun is a means to do evil, when in fact men have no trouble finding ways to do evil on their own."

"Ain't that the truth," Jack added.

Melaphia went on as if he hadn't spoken. "Deylaud can show you books to read on the history, but I'll recap since we know Jack hasn't read a book since the Kama Sutra was published."

"Not true. I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance." Apparently we didn't look convinced because Jack defensively added, "Well, I did."

Mel quelled his outburst with a look and continued. "For now, just know that the practice is old, even ancient. It came from Africa and has followers in most parts of the world. Those of you sitting here are not simply followers: You carry the uninterrupted bloodline of Vodoun royalty." She paused a moment to let that information sink in. "Our first lesson has to be humility-for humility is the way of the Vodoun. There are older, wilder forces in the world, enemies and angels. We can only ask for their help-" She lowered her chin and gazed at Jack. "-not demand it."

Humility and Jack seldom met. As a matter of fact, both Jack and I had long ago misplaced our humility along with our humanity.

When one is immortal and virtually indestructible, it's hard to be humble. But I had felt humble in Lalee's presence. I'd recognized her as one of those older, wilder forces on earth. And now she'd been set free into spirit.

As though Melaphia could read my thoughts she said, "The actual word, 'Vodoun,' means 'spirit.' It has to do with focus, intent, and-as much as you may not like it-faith. We need to find out what happens when spirit meets immortality." "Wow, voodoo vampires," Werm whispered. "Cool."

Jack appeared as if he might give Werm a thump on the back of his head. But the boy wore a look of complete awe.

Melaphia clasped her hands in front of her. "So, tonight we will begin the first task. We must honor the ancestors who came before us. We must honor Maman Lalee. We are all family now. We must trust and depend on one another." She took a moment to gaze at each of us. "Maman Lalee will choose your personal orisha-the force closest to your strengths. When we have done that, I'll teach you to build an altar."

"You mean we have to pray or something? Isn't that kind of sacrilegious for us vamps?" Jack said.

"The Vodoun is a religion like many others. And yes, you especially, Jack, will be spending a good bit of time on your knees.

Otherwise, you might never learn to truly fly."

"Oh," Jack said, sounding a little disappointed.

"Did you think it would be so easy? Say a chant and take wing?"

"Well...look at old Werm here. He hasn't hit the floor with those sissy leather pants, and he can go all invisible and stuff."

"True, that shows a bit of natural talent-but no control. In this case his emotions override his power. It is not a good thing to be out of control. Remember that."

I'd spent several centuries learning control. Mostly to stave off the inevitable explosion of anger inside of me, and the loneliness.

The soul-battering grief of survival without connection. Without love. I felt Eleanor's hand come to rest on my thigh, interrupting my dark thoughts before I could reach Diana. I turned my gaze in Eleanor's direction and she smiled. Yes, that is what you offer me: solace, distraction, love. I raised her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. Nearly lost in her eyes, I was pulled back by Jack's low expletive.

Before I could divine the cause, Melaphia reclaimed our attention.

"Jack, move this rock over to the fireplace," she ordered. "Lamar, fetch the water. Captain? Will you bring Renee, please?"

I did as she'd asked and fetched Renee from the bedroom. I held her, sound asleep in my arms, as her mother bustled around the room. The distant memory of holding my own sleeping son called to me. The trusting sleep of the innocent, what some jokingly refer to as "sleeping like the dead." My son was truly dead, five hundred years dead. I set my thoughts in other directions. Better to let the past flicker and go out.

Soon, Melaphia had composed a makes.h.i.+ft altar, set out with white roses, a bowl of spicy gumbo-Lalee's favorite food- water from the oldest well in the city, and the vial that had held Lalee 's blood before we'd used it up to bring about Reedrek's downfall. Next to the empty vial, Melaphia placed a full gla.s.s of her own blood and an old miniature portrait of Lalee herself. She indicated for me to settle Renee on a feather pillow at her feet. Then she lit several white candles.

"Gather 'round," she said, opening her arms. As she drew a symbol on the stone, using what looked like cornmeal, the chant she sang sent a thrill of recognition through me. Earthly memories of Lalee flowing across time, across death: her beautiful face lit by candlelight as she cradled her firstborn daughter and pledged her to me. The terrible specter she'd become if anyone meant to do harm in her neighborhood. The grieving mother in the torchlight, helping the dying and sending their souls on to the next part of their journey. I missed her. The love and pain in Melaphia's chant reminded me how much.

Suddenly the chant stopped, leaving complete silence in the room. A puff of wind surged through the damper, filling the air with the telltale smell of ash. Then Renee sat up and rubbed her eyes.

Melaphia sank to her knees. "Maman?"

Renee's small hands cradled Melaphia's face. "Oui, sweet one. I am here." Melaphia blinked and tears rose in her eyes. My own throat tightened and I too sank down.

"Maman, we need your help. We must call on your blood in all of us. We need you to teach us how."

With that, she turned to me. I could see now that while the body might be her great-great-great-granddaughter's, the living eyes were Lalee's looking out at me after nearly three hundred years. "I have sworn so, have I not?"

"Aye, you have," I said. "But I would have your love, not just your allegiance." I swallowed. "As I have loved you." She floated toward me, her feet a few inches off the floor. When she was close enough to touch she said, "Both are yours, Captain. As you have cared for me and mine, I shall care for your new family. " She s.h.i.+fted her gaze to Jack, then Eleanor, then finally to Werm.

"Each in his or her own fas.h.i.+on."

She placed her small hand on my head and closed her eyes. "In the dark you called on Maman Brigitte and Kalfu. We three helped you in your need, but now I would have you pray to Brigitte's husband, Baron Samedi.

"Ghede."

I heard Melaphia gasp in the silence that followed. Lalee turned slightly in her direction. "Yes, that's right, girl. Ghede is death, the master of the abyss. The trickster." She chuckled and patted my head. "Did you not meet him in the dark? You would have if you'd stayed longer."

She grew serious again. "Call him into you, but only in necessity. He will come. Do not encourage his tricks, or his appet.i.te for death. He is the final judge of a man's worth. A vampire's worth as well."

I nodded.

She moved on to Jack. "h.e.l.lo, my son. You are the heartbreaker, are you not?"

Jack stared at her for several long seconds. "I didn't mean to," he said, looking miserable.

"No, you did not." Jack looked away from her gaze but with one hand on his jaw she brought him back. "The dead ones call your name. They say you are to pray to Legba. He is one of the loa of the crossroads and the door to the spirit world. Will you do that?"

Jack nodded. "He won't make me ten feet tall again like you did? Will he? I mean, I don't want to be banging my head on the lid of my coffin-"

Lalee's burst of laughter was a combination of a woman's mirth and a child's giggle. "When you call, you'll find out." She leaned close to his ear. "Perhaps you might build your altar outside with only the stars above you."

"Yes ma'am. I will." He glanced at me. "Just to be safe."

Eleanor was next. Lalee took a longer time studying her. She swung her head from side to side. "Your immortality is so new the energy still beats like a heart around you," she said finally. "You were brave in the dark. You I give to Erzulie, the tragic mistress.

She is the G.o.ddess of love but of sorrow as well. You have given your very soul for love, have you not?"

I could feel Eleanor's gaze on me but I didn't meet it. Of a sudden I had the sinking feeling that making Eleanor had been a greedy mistake.

"You belong to Erzulie now, above all others...even above him." A slight nod in my direction made it obvious she was speaking about me.

"Yes, madam." Eleanor's voice sounded unsure but resolute.

I could feel Werm's utter fascination like light itching my skin, and I knew that Lalee had turned her full attention to him. "To you, I give loa Loco. The overlord of vegetation and healing herbs."

For a moment Lamar's expression fell. "You mean they get to be lords of death and ghosts and I get to be lord of the bushes?"

"Don't back-sa.s.s me boy. We are not lords of anything. We are followers, pet.i.tioners. If the loas don't bless us, we are nothing."

Instead of answering, Lamar began to go transparent. Lalee, using Renee's hand, reached out and grabbed his collar. "Come back now. That's a pretty trick but I am talking about the ganja and tobacco, and other sacred herbs."

Lamar immediately perked up and began to solidify again. "By ganja, you mean-"

"Ah, yes. That is something you understand. You may be disappointed unless you rouse Loco and prove your worth to him. "

She pa.s.sed her hand right through his now-solid-looking shoulder. "As for tricks...if you learn well I have another I would have you court. He would help with whatever magic you may possess." She wagged a finger in front of his face. "But not until you learn manners, and patience. Not until you please Loco."

"Yes, ma'am," Lamar said.

At that, Lalee dusted her hands together and folded them in front of her. "Now, all of you, lower your eyes. Reach out to those I have named. Melaphia and Renee will help you build the altars and learn the rituals. This is how you gain the power in my blood that runs in your veins."

She clapped her hands together three times and said, "Ache!"

Another gust of air blew through the room. When I opened my eyes, Renee was back on the pillow where I had placed her.

Even as I rose to my feet, she stirred and opened her eyes.

"Mama?" She gazed up at Melaphia. "I had the nicest dream. I dreamed that Maman Lalee was holding me in her arms and whispering in my ear."

Melaphia smiled and gently lifted her. "That's wonderful. Tell me what she whispered while I get you back to bed. " As she pa.s.sed me, carrying her daughter, Melaphia said, "I'll be back to make each of you a list of things you'll need."

Jack "Here are the printouts you wanted," Werm said. He had a sheaf of papers in one hand and some kind of sticks in the other.

"And the incense you asked for, from Spencer's at the mall."

All conversation among the irregulars had stopped as Otis, Rufus, Jerry, and Rennie took in the spectacle that was Lamar Nathan Von Werm. His silvery white hair was gummed up into little icicle spikes all over his head. His black leather jacket was too big and boxy and his matching pants too tight. If that wasn't enough to get his a.s.s kicked in most of the dives where the irregulars hung out when they weren't loitering in my garage, the eyeliner and black nail polish surely were.

"Boys, this here's Werm," I said.

Rufus and Jerry sniffed the air, making Werm for a vampire immediately. Shapes.h.i.+fters and vampires can always spot one another or smell one another. Rennie, who was human, wouldn't have been able to tell that Werm was undead if I hadn't already warned him. Otis, who wasn't a s.h.i.+fter but wasn't completely human either, was looking at Werm like he was from the planet What-in-the-Sam-Hill-Are-You? Whether that was because he could tell Werm was a vampire, or because of the getup, I had no idea.

I introduced the irregulars, who grunted their acknowledgment of Werm's presence but didn't offer to shake. I couldn't say as I blamed them. We were all standing around the card table where the boys had brought the items I'd a.s.signed them to pick up for me. Shopping is not easy for vampires. I don't always have time to get out to the all-night Wal-Mart, and besides, the fluorescent lighting makes my skin look like I just stepped out of a wax museum. Makes the Wally-world "a.s.sociates" a trifle nervous.

"What's that rusty grill for, Otis?" I asked.

Otis had rolled in a waist-high charcoal grill, the old, round kind painted in black enamel. "It's your altar," he said proudly. "You said you wanted something you could set up outside. You can burn your candles and incense in here without starting any brush fires."

"You're nothing if not practical," I said. "And if I get hungry I can always roast some wieners."

"Or some wiener dogs," Jerry suggested. He shrugged when n.o.body laughed. n.o.body mentioned the V word at the garage, not even Rennie, who'd known me longer than any human besides Mel. Jerry referred to my nature indirectly from time to time, but I'd let him live. So far. He placed a pack of tea lights from Dollar Tree on the table. "Nothing but the best for you, hoss."

"Thanks," I said. Jerry was tall and muscular, unlike Otis and Rufus, who were lanky and wiry. I could probably count on him in a fight, but I'd never had to call on him to watch my back. Then again, for all I knew he might owe more allegiance to some pack leader somewhere than he did to me. He was big and strong, but I doubted he was alpha.

Rufus said, "What is all this stuff for again?" Rufus was a shapes.h.i.+fter, too, although I had a feeling he was a different variety than Jerry. His ears weren't as pointy as Jerry's, but he never came around when the moon was full.

"Some voodoo ritual William's housekeeper wants me to do. It's supposed to make me stronger."

"I've got to do one, too," Werm said proudly, "to develop my own natural strengths."

"Yeah, well, you look like you need all the help you can get, sissy boy," Jerry observed.

Werm reddened with anger, but he kept his mouth shut and at least he didn't do his disappearing act. I was sorry for the little whelp. He'd thought that becoming a vampire would make him an instant bada.s.s. No such luck. Poor little b.a.s.t.a.r.d was probably still getting sand kicked in his face down at the beach of a night. I'd made him swear not to bite humans, so he complained of being a vampire in name only. Still, it was better than him winding up in the city lockup with suns.h.i.+ne streaming through the windows until he was no-pink-on-the-inside well done.

Werm put the incense on the card table with the other things that the irregulars had helped me gather in what amounted to a messed-up redneck scavenger hunt. Rennie got the list Melaphia gave me and ticked off each item with a pencil. White rum, cigars, cedar sprigs, the white candles, incense.

"Who's got the food offering?" Rennie said, and looked at the others over his c.o.ke bottlethick gla.s.ses.

Otis stepped forward with a small bag. "It's a chicken leg from KFC," he said. "Extra Crispy."

"I'm an Original Recipe man myself," Rufus said.

"Me too," Rennie agreed solemnly, and handed the list over to me.

Jerry weighed in with an observation on the secret herbs and spices, and a debate broke out on the merits of pressure cooking versus slow roasting. While they were busy with their discussion, Werm sidled around the table and handed me the papers.

"And they think I'm a p.u.s.s.y," he muttered sullenly.

"Watch yourself," I said, folding the sheet Rennie handed me and stuffing it into the breast pocket of my s.h.i.+rt to keep it separate from the other papers. "Three of them could probably eat you in a couple of bites and pick their teeth with your bones." Werm must have thought I was speaking metaphorically because he only shrugged. "Why do guys like that always pick on me?"

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