Dark Matters

Chapter Four: Dawn

Parker was exercising in the gym hall on the 36th floor of Lace's Tower. His broad, very muscular chest and his feet were bare. He just wore wide black pants that were perfect for a bit of Thai-Chi in the morning. Not only did it improve the control over his body, it also helped him staying ahead of his anger. This was important for him, more than anything in the world he wanted to prove his master that he had mastered his curse.

So far, Lace had not given him any acknowledgement for his efforts leave alone his success although the magician knew about the training he had done every single day for the past 20 years and even more enthusiastically during the last five years. A fact that probably had to do with his disapproval for the reason for his encouragement. Forbidding as ever, his master entered the gym hall.

It was not the way he dressed, there was an air of power about him that even the most feeble mortal would notice. Without that he just looked like an athletic young man in elegant clothing. A bit unusual was that Lace hid his eyes behind sunglasses all the time; but not to hide his Asian origins. Everyone who had seen them once was grateful that the mage was nice enough to bother with glasses.

"Punctual as ever, but I would have preferred to be briefed rather before not after events", Lace said in a rather inexpressive-tone.

The black man had served the mage for so long and still it was hard for him to tell what his benefactor was feeling. Cold and distant was what he appeared. Lace had once entrusted to his head of security that a man of power could not afford to show those in public, and that his enemies had nothing to work with as long as they were unaware of his feelings.

Honestly Parker could not imagine that something was as dear to the magician so it could be used against him. Not that Lace was not protecting his interest, but it was more the usual owner's pride. Was anyone to kidnap a dancer or threaten to destroy a rare book, the mage would not bother with negotiations. He had taken losses before to prove that he was not arguing. He was master of this city and other had to do his bidding.

"My Lord, I am still waiting for the forensic reports," he replied without breaking the circle of movements. "They were supposed to be ready right after I was finished with this and then I intended to leave a full report instead of one missing details that might be important."

Lace smiled sardonically, then he signalled Parker to stop and walk over with him to the sports bar. On their way the mage told him: "Parker, thinking what a monster you were, when I stumbled upon you - I never imagined you to become a perfectionist."

That seemed to be a compliment and the tall, dark man thanked his boss with a nod and smiled slightly. They reached the bar, which was elevated a bit over the training grounds. It was open all the time and the personnel served free drinks. It was Lace's policy that only a healthy body served well. Not everyone was as good in shape as Parker, who enjoyed working out very much. From the bar they could see to the opposite room where the training devices stood.

"Oh, Sirs, what an honour", Verbatina said, but it was obvious that she was tired, "what can I get for you?" She had not expected to see Lace once more this day. Her eyes were still slightly red. She had not been able to perform her sleep ritual, the punishment that had been bestowed upon her, for killing the men in the alley had hurt her soul more deeply than her body.

"Water", Lace said as he took his seat. Of course he was not demanding the one coming from the tap. Ground water was good for the masses outside, but he preferred the clean, tasteful water he imported with all the other fruits and goods from his sources. Nobody besides his most entrusted employees knew the locations and names of his associates. Without the ability to feed this city a revolution was senseless and it spared him a lot of trouble.

Parker sat down next to him and ordered one of those isotonic drinks that were made in one of the city factories. Verbatina nodded and went to the freezer, picking a bottle of water and one of the canned isotonic sports drink. She was just on her way back when the can slipped from her hand and fell to the ground. Almost she would have caught it, but the pain from her back stopped her movement. There was a loud crash, and she apologized a thousand times, putting the water on the lower part of the counter.

"Relax, just get another one", Parker said a bit annoyed. He despised clumsiness and people that were apologizing for the most ridiculous things, as if they had made a capital mistake.

There was the hint of a smile in Lace's face - the smile of someone that knew something. "Oh, don't be mad, it looks like she had a very hard night."

Verbatina smiled relieved. Her master had told her earlier that her secret mission in Misery were now over. She was so tired from staying there every night for six months and still having to attend her duties as a servant. Something she really hated, by the way, she wished that, after all that training, she would be allowed to perform some other duties. Especially as she was opening the new can and put the glasses in front of the two men.

She had been told that she had witch blood in her and that this gave her some power, but her master had taught her very few of the dark arts. Whatever reasons had lead to Verbatina's becoming a secret minion, she was not going to disappoint him. Not even after the harsh punishment earlier that day. Part of her knew that he had been right, that she could have lowered her hood and told them that she was investigating here. Had they attacked her then, it would have been their own fault. Still she was mad that her master was so strict.

Verbatina knew that it was not only about killing those men, but for the reason she had done it. She had wanted to kill these men who plagued the most helpless of people, because part of her had not yet forgotten where she had come from. This might, after all, be his reason not to teach her more magic.

However, part of her still longed to learn more, but being able to enrich her short sleep so she was fully rested was already a wonderful ability. Besides Lace only a handful of people were able to perform that ritual. Verbatina always told herself that witch blood was not that uncommon and over a thousand people in Los Angels had it flowing inside their veins. She still was a lucky girl and with the punishment, she had got absolution from her master and that was a lot better than him bearing anger towards her for a longer period of time.

"So", Lace began. "Tell me what you know, I see to the last report later."

"It was a total of eleven bodies we found in Misery. Five were massacred by some sort of sword, while the other six had their throats torn out. Although one of the six victims had been found with the other five that died by sword, we are sure it was a different murderer", Parker explained not noticing that Verbatina stop in her movements wiping up part of the drink that had been spilled to the ground.

"Forget about the sword murderer", Lace said. "I am more interested in the other ones."

"I thought so. You think the stranger that came in tonight was responsible for it?" Parker asked. Seeing Lace's expression he continued: "Also for the body found in Merry Ville? That one looked different; it had a broken neck and only two tiny fang marks in the neck."

"I presume there was also blood missing?" the mage asked back.

"Not much, but more than the wounds would have accounted for. Dr. Heller thought the blood of Mr. Britchett and the six souls looked very unusual in any case. As if infected by something - the good doctor thinks it was the same person."

"Go on, tell me what you think it means," Lace encouraged him.

"There are four types of beings that live on blood in this city, not counting the ghouls who virtually eat everything. They can't be responsible, it does not match their behaviour, their feeding methods or their bite patterns."

Parker had to think about Kara and Virginia. Their victims had also little tiny fang marks in the neck, but they could not have been responsible for the extended damage to the other victims. They were the strongest Lamias and he knew all about their abilities. Besides, the four female victims would have shown signs of transformation.

"It would mean", Parker continued his train of thoughts. "That the stranger is something new, something no one has encountered before."

"Not that new. I would have thought that you read about vampires in my books," Lace said.

"I read that all vampires go back to Dracula and swept from the face of this earth with his destruction. So how could the stranger be a vampire? You said yourself that all the other demons are older than vampires and had been often mistaken for them in history."

"Yeah mortals, especially the church people, are tending too much to what has been written down. Be flexible", Lace stood up. "After all, if other things could be mistaken for a vampire, could not a vampire be mistaken for something else? The possibilities are endless, but judging from what I heard tonight, our new guest is a vampire."

"Sounds almost as if you want it to be one," the black man said.

"Yes, that would be interesting, I never met one before," Lace admitted. "Send me the report to my room."

"I have sent Kara down to Bale, she will return once his men have reported back. Our security posts have not spotted him so far."

"Good", Lace said, leaving.

Parker had the feeling that the magician knew more about the situation than he did - like he had known all he was reporting and was just cross checking that he was on the right track. In all those years he had never quite understood the mage. For now, he wondered why Lace was not ordering a broader search.

Certainly, someone with such a different style of dress should easily be noticed? Parker's problem that he was not sure what his boss wanted to do about the stranger. After all he had not broken any laws, although he expected this to happen sooner or later. He needed to re-read about vampires in Lace's open library. He was sure that the mage was not wrong about his assumption or else he would not have told him.

It was always Lace who was telling people important things, not just about the situation at hand, but about the darkness in the world in general. Too bad that hardly ever someone realised what that information really was supposed to mean. Deep in thought the black man went to dress properly for a new day of duty.

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Leaving the ghoul, Dracula headed straight towards the Black Tower. The Count only wished that he had been able to take a closer look at the other building - Lace's Tower. But the sun was already rising and the shadow-side of the skyscraper was the only thing that protected him from its harmful rays. Some people were already walking about, but they seemed busy enough.

The vampire tried his luck and used his spider-climbing-ability. He would have preferred to walk up, but that was so energy draining and certainly would have drawn some attention. So he pressed himself against the dark almost black looking glass. Almost invisible on that background with his dark clothing he climbed up to the tenth story.

Then he warped himself a few feet forward. He was shocked how painful it felt this time. His hands shook a little, but soon, he found a cold white room laid out with tiles which seemed to be ideal for resting place. Also the chilly air had a comforting effect on him. He decided to rest in the white tub for it was the next best thing to a coffin. Not nearly as comfortable but definitely better than the floor. He still felt miserable.

Dracula hated being so weak and felt bitter. All those wonderful things that had become his second nature were now taken from him. Maybe he would get them back or maybe he had to wait years to learn them again. He missed creating dimensional holes. They did not only make it easier to travel in and out of his castle. They also offered complete isolation. He had his troubles invading other minds at present, but he still felt them all around. They were weak and numbed by distance and by lack of power; but still disturbing.

An-other advantage of lingering in dimensional holes was that he could take his brides with him. Inside the dimensional drift their pleasure, their hunger and their lust was all that mattered. It echoed from the borders back to them and multiplied way beyond what mortals were able to perceive yet alone endure. If the church only knew what he had gained by refusing their order to give away Vala. The Count missed those days of consorting with his brides. He had grown so accustomed to them that, it actually bothered him that they were gone forever.

He had not loved them - liked them, found comfort and diversion with them, besides the obvious pleasures, but he knew that he never could have loved them. That feeling had died with him when he had been murdered: betrayed by his brother - abandoned by his father. Sometimes he wished that he was really as hollow as he had told his brides; but his emotions had always leaked to the surface, when the pleasure had ebbed away and the heat of his rage had passed. And in the end: Were those not also human emotions?

A small part of him was a bit jealous of his brides. They seemed to have overly excessive feelings and it gave them so much energy. He actually came to think that they had enjoyed their immortality a lot more than he had. Vladislaus had already tried all forms of sin, lust and pleasure, so that he had needed their enthusiasm to feel anything at all. Now they were gone and the joy seemed to have left him.

It had been such a shock when he suddenly had sensed Marishka's death, the echo of her pain as the sun had turned her to ashes while the blessed arrow had burnt in her heart. It seemed more like a night mare, but it had happened. But it had not stopped there - he had also lost Verona, his oldest and strongest bride. Dracula had been so furious when Aleera had told him how it had happened that he nearly had killed Anna Valerious.

But she had amused him as she had tried to fight him. Anna's mind was still very innocent, child-like, and he had begun to understand Aleera's interest in her. Since his relative was so easy to manipulate, he had put her right under his thrall. Still what she lacked in psychic energy, she had made up with physical. Suddenly all he had been able to think about was how much fun it would be to turn her into a bride. First he had meant to change her body. Later Aleera and he would have made her yearn to join them. Or, as his red-headed beauty always had said, it would be a shame to let such beautiful woman die a virgin.

Unfortunately Dracula had also been too eager to let Van Helsing be a witness to her transformation. It had been a bad idea, but so had been letting him live in the first place. Although his murderer had been clearly out of shape, Gabriel was a far too dangerous a person to roam around freely. It was no excuse that he had been surprised to see Gabriel the night he had made his second attempt to bring his children to life. He was slightly upset that his old friend had forgotten about their past, but also kind of amused.

Dracula had wanted to teach him all he had forgotten before concentrating his attention on his murderer. Sending out that stupid werewolf to divert his old mentor from his plans had even been a worse mistake. In fact Vladislaus never had believed that Velkan would have been able to bite Gabriel. His young relative was in fact the incompetence in person. Just like his sister, but then, every dog has his day.

All those unfortunate miscalculations had cost him his brides. He aspired to be more careful the next time - not even immortals had the chance for revenge everyday. Brides, on the contrary were much easier to find. The Count had seen quite a few pretty girls passing him on the street - much prettier than the average girls in Budapest, leave alone in that God-forsaken village where he had been born.

He had created vampires as long as he could remember, but nearly half a century had passed before he had created his first bride. Brides were more powerful than ordinary vampires. While the latter were merely shadows of him, the brides mirrored his powers. After Verona had been gone he had begun to realise that their presence had made him somewhat stronger. Their powers had grown together and multiplied themselves; not that this realisation was of any use for him at the present. Zero multiplied by zero was still zero.

Looking back it surprised him that he had waited so long to make a stronger vampire. His ordinary vampires had so many weaknesses and offered so little. It was not before he had seen the "real" Verona that he had thought about creating a vampire who was almost his equal in power. After all, what had he to fear? He would always remain the only one that could not be harmed by anything except creatures he thought he was able to control easily enough.