The Dragon Coin Page 2

  She buried her head into my shoulder and cried harder.

  “There, there, my love…I will come back to you. I swear it.”

  “I know you’ll try,” she said, between sobs. “I believe you will do whatever you can to come back to me and Ali. But, this man, this monster has killed you twice before. That’s what you said.”

  “Yes. He has succeeded in the past, and nearly a third time, as well,” I chuckled, hoping this would bring a smile. It failed, as she continued to weep. “Just remember the man this fiend dealt with nearly five centuries ago has gained useful battle skills while serving several powerful governments during that time span—including what I’ve gained from my employment with the CIA until I retired the first time, twenty years ago.”

  She sat up and studied my face, focusing on my eyes as if they would provide assurance my words could not. She nodded subtly, seeming to regain some composure.

  “He has weaknesses, too,” I advised. “As with most vampires, his body is hypersensitive to the sun and any other source of ultraviolet light. It turns him sluggish, and prolonged exposure can kill him.”

  “You make it sound like it’s no big deal—like it will be easy to lure him away from the other vampires and bodyguards you told me about—but it is a big deal! A very, very big deal!”

  Her gorgeous eyes were red and swollen, and yet the heat from her anger brought twin emerald flames as she continued to study mine. Bullshit had never worked with Beatrice—even subtle lies proved regrettable in our brief life together in Glasgow following World War II. And, other than pretending to be her grandson after I reentered her life near its natural end, I have never lied to her since.

  “Yes, it is a big deal,” I confessed, making sure my tone remained confident despite the despair threatening to seize my soul. “But it’s unavoidable, and for more than just the reasons I’ve already shared. He will kill you and our boy if I fail to meet his challenge of a reunion. I know this for certain—as sure as the fact I will be reborn in some other time and place should he succeed in ending Roderick’s and my present earthly stay.”

  I reached my arms around her for further comfort, and she trembled. Gently increasing my arm’s hold upon her back and shoulders, I sought to enforce her understanding that I was determined not to fail her.

  “Perhaps The Almighty has willed this meeting…and maybe for reasons not so obvious,” I said, smiling at a thought that had just occurred to me.

  “How, so?”

  “Well, and this is something I had hoped to avoid bringing up. One of my coins was incorporated in a spell that restored Vlad Tepes, from the fires of hell he so richly deserved, to eternal life on earth,” I explained. “A sorcerer named Krontos Lazarevic, whose Serbian ancestors had obtained one of my coins through violent means centuries before, used it to fuse Vlad’s severed head back onto his body, and the blood from an innocent young man was then poured into his open throat to restore life to Dracul.”

  “So, the legends that Stoker relied on were real?”

  “Yes, in a sense, just as most myths have at least a grain of truth behind them,” I said, sitting up slightly to better face her. My wife’s trembling had quieted only slightly. “I’m not sure of exactly when this happened. Nor can I tell you when he began feeding on the blood of human victims. I hadn’t heard of his rumored rebirth until 1501, after I returned to Europe from what would later become known as America, and the Appalachian Mountains. In fact, I had only recently heard of his love of skewering his enemies on eight-cubit stakes when he was Lord of Wallachia.”

  “And then he later killed you when he became a Roman Catholic Cardinal?”

  “Yes,” I said, hoping to spare her too many details of a purge of innocent human beings—an extermination unrivaled until the rise of the Third Reich. “Roderick and I had a fondness for Madrid, and if we had kept our activities geared more to hedonism instead of the humanitarian interests we were most drawn to, perhaps we would’ve never crossed paths with Dracul.”

  Beatrice nodded thoughtfully. With so much to take in, it took her a moment to respond. “Are you saying you stepped in and prevented him from killing someone?”

  “Precisely, although it wasn’t a matter of us accosting him in public, as you might be picturing,” I said. “We would’ve been cut down as so many were. He brought along a small army of mercenaries, and these vile men were more than willing to inflict cruelty. To this day, the screams of their victims stay with me.”

  “What did you or Roderick do for him to direct his ire at you?” she asked, when I didn’t continue. A rush of terrible memories threatened to overwhelm me. I’ve stated before how distant memories can suddenly become pristine as current events once called forth from the recesses of my mind. “Hmmm, you helped someone escape, didn’t you?”

  “It was a Jewish family accused of heresy,” I said, nodding to confirm the accuracy of her keen intuition. “I almost fought Roderick to not help them…but once I learned of a local magistrate’s desire to lay claim to this family’s farm by false accusations of blasphemy against God, I agreed to provide shelter for them in our nearby estate. One of our servants betrayed us to the Cardinal’s men, and near midnight on a Wednesday, the mercenaries stormed our home, killed our servants other than the turncoat, and arrested our terrified guests hiding downstairs.

  “I had thought this family would be taken to prison, like the other infidels, but the mercenaries separated them from one another and brought them into the foyer. By then Dracul had arrived. As soon as he removed his hood, Roderick and I were amazed by his garish flesh tone, worse than Roderick’s, as well as the preternatural glow within Vlad’s dark eyes. But that was nothing…nothing compared to the razor sharp fangs that seemed to lengthen inside his mouth as he laughed at us. We had only become vaguely aware that he knew what we both were, when he disappeared from our view. And, only the slashing of each family member’s throat told us that he was killing each one. A moment later, he stood before us again, his teeth and lips covered in crimson while each corpse slumped to the floor, nearly emptied of every drop of blood.”

  “I’m begging you, William, don’t go! Instead come with us to the safety of Roderick’s fortress! Please!”

  I thought my love might start crying again, but this time it was the determined girl, who once was a fearless barmaid in the worst Glasgow pub I knew of back in 1945, who entreated me. Angry resolve spread across Beatrice’s face.

  “No. No, I can’t, my love,” I told her, gently, meeting her fiery gaze with my own resolve. “He will find us, no matter where we go. I can feel his presence around me, and although he hasn’t attempted to use my eyes as his own, he knows Roderick and I are coming.”

  “So, I am supposed to let you go to this loathsome vampire, and what? Let him try to kill you a fourth time?!”

  “You don’t know that,” I replied, more firmly. No way in hell was she coming along. “And, if I fail, it is just Roderick and me who will be in danger. At least the three of you shall remain safe.”

  “Until Ali discovers you are actually on a coin-collecting trip—“

  “You mustn’t tell him anything about the coin!” Yes, this time I was harsh. I had to be. “Besides, I’m not picking up this coin. It’s far too dangerous, and for the time being it will wait until I have at most just two coins left out in the world from the original thirty.”

  “Our boy will never believe you!”

  “That’s why you can’t tell him anything. He can’t know jack shit about any of this!”

  “It’s not fair to leave this to me, William…he will see through my worry,” she said, obviously wounded from my rebuke.

  How I wanted to sooth away her fears, but this was one time where I couldn’t. The potential consequences from being too soft would be eternally regrettable.

  “I will call him, but not until after we arrive in Rome,” I told her, shaking my head at her imploring look and the fact I was in danger of giving in to her wishes. I had to clo
se the deal, pronto. “I know his feelings were hurt at dinner when neither Roderick nor I would divulge what we discussed in the hotel lobby. Amy, too…and I could see the wheels turning in Ali’s head, that he fully expects us to be up to our necks in some shenanigans. Yet, despite the anger and hurt feelings still to come, it is for his own good as well as Amy’s and yours that all of you stay put, safe and sound at Roderick’s place. Am I clear?”

  She started to protest once more, but I placed my forefinger over her lips—something she used to do to me when I desired the last word in an argument that could only be a stalemate. She often won those battles…and I needed to win this one.

  “Yes,” she said weakly. “But, I may never forgive you if you die and leave me to worry when I’ll ever see you again.”

  “I’ve always come back to you, and if per chance I do lose my life, at most I will only be gone a few years hence,” I assured her. “Remember, I will always love you, and that love will guide me back into your life within days of my return to the world. I will come back!”

  A promise from the very core of my being. A promise I knew was true, and one that would bring her peace if she would only trust me to come through and make it happen. I pulled her close to me once more and held her tightly, as if I’d never let go, all the while whispering my promise to return. I did this until long after she had fallen asleep and the dawn’s first light appeared on the eastern horizon.

  Chapter Three

  Roderick and I boarded our flight to Rome from Dulles at 8:45 a.m. United Airlines was the only carrier with a nonstop flight that Sunday, with an expected arrival in Rome by 12:30 Monday morning, six hours ahead of our usual D.C. dinner hour. Good thing neither of us suffer from blood sugar issues.

  Of course, being that this trip was more of a journey to a ruthless tribunal than a vacation excursion, the flight’s duration meant little to either one of us. Luxury first class was essential, and we agreed to split the cost for purchasing two such seats apiece. More for practicality of conversation than comfort, we had much to discuss in anticipation of our planned meeting with Dracul on Tuesday.

  “Since we have not been given a time or place for our meeting, are you sure Budva is the correct destination?” I asked, once we had cleared the east coast by more than one hundred miles, and only the Atlantic’s seemingly endless expanse lay before us.

  “Yes. It is the strongest location impressed upon my mind when I first read the note,” he advised. “Nothing sentient has challenged that notion since then.”

  I nodded, politely, unconvinced we would forego additional ire from Dracul should we find that Roderick’s assumption was flawed.

  “Have you got a better idea?” He lowered his glasses to glower at me, and it seemed prudent to keep my cynicism in check until we ironed out the details of how we’d handle our business the next few days.

  “Not yet, but give me time and I might,” I teased. “Seriously, my brother, I’ll keep Budva as the primary choice unless we come to a consensus on an alternate locale.”

  “I don’t think debating between Budva and other cities like Niksic and Podgorica will decide the issue, Judas,” he said, pulling up the blinds on the window closest to him. Despite his pale, deathlike complexion hidden behind layers of MAC products, and the fact he tans horribly, Roderick loves sunshine. I followed his lead with my window’s blinds until the morning sunlight bathed our area. “What I believe is this…. There is a landmark involved not far from Budva that will bring us to him. Do you recall his proficiency in cloaking himself and his mercenaries, when he succeeded in ambushing us?”

  “Yes, but I don’t follow you.”

  “You will in a moment,” he said. “Just keep your mind open to the possibility we may encounter doorways and monuments that look like one thing, but in fact lead to hidden passageways. Especially in a city as old as this one, as you’ll likely recall downtown areas we’ve ventured through before. I expect for him to draw on that familiarity, as well.”

  “If that’s the case, then he has adopted subtler strategies than he employed in the sixteenth century,” I quipped, finding it hard to picture the refinement Roderick alluded to. Vlad Tepes was hardly a gentleman in life, and based on what we knew of his exploits as a young vampire during his masquerade as a Cardinal and later Madrid Archbishop of the Holy See, this wasn’t someone I’d expect to read Chaucer or master the lute. The only sophisticated pastimes I ever pictured for Dracul were battle strategies and efficient ways to create impaling poles, since he’d go through hundreds every week. “Are you saying he has learned a few sorcerer tricks from Lazarevic?”

  “Perhaps he has, since the old wizard is said to remain loyal to him, as he was to Vlad’s father, Vlad II,” said Roderick, pausing to order a drink from a passing flight attendant. I decided to join him when he ordered my favorite, scotch on the rocks. Yes, it was much earlier in the day than I usually like to imbibe, but desperate times dictate desperate measures. “I spoke to Comte early this morning, and he believes our enemy has enlisted Lazarevic to rebuild his brood of vampires from when Van Helsing nearly wiped them out, while you and I were hobnobbing in England in 1888.”

  “I would say that trying to stop Ratibor from killing more prostitutes was an endeavor far more noble than hobnobbing!”

  “That’s not what I meant, Judas.” He regarded me coolly, before going on. “But we did ignore Van Helsing’s plea to come get your coin. Remember? He took it from Dracul and had it on his person for nearly three months. But instead of traveling to Geneva to pick it up from his deposit box, you insisted on returning to America.”

  “I had no choice—Scotland Yard had alerted the other agencies throughout Europe by telegraph that I was to be detained and held for their arrival. You know this—you were there, for Christ’s sake!”

  We had been through this before—several times, in fact, after returning to New York from London in 1889. I must admit I get agitated when having to explain things again, even when considering Roderick and I had been mostly strangers for much of the past one hundred and seven years.

  “I do remember, my friend,” he said, lowering his voice in response to my indignation. “But the bullshit about you being betrayed by the Knights Templar was just that…. Bullshit. Scotland Yard hadn’t fully cleared either of us as suspects in the Ripper murders, since they erroneously assumed we assisted Ratibor’s escape. Remember?”

  It doesn’t happen often, but I had forgotten the specifics of why the authorities wanted to speak with me. In retrospect, all I heard was ‘they discovered your true identity’, and I fled. It took Roderick two days to find me in the Highlands, and he only agreed to immediately sail to New York when I threatened to back out of a proposed project President Harrison had enlisted me specifically for, via Roderick’s recommendation. Foolishly, I trusted Van Helsing to find a better hiding place for my coin, and I never considered that Dracul’s cronies could retrieve it for him while he was chained inside the dark Romanian dungeon our esteemed colleague had trapped him into.

  “Yes, I remember now.”

  “It’s beyond regrettable we didn’t retrieve the damned thing, since in all likelihood Dracul would be dead, and you and I wouldn’t be faced with the possible end to my life and another deportation to purgatory for you.”

  “Very funny,” I deadpanned. I was about to add something else I considered witty, but our drinks arrived. After the flight attendant left us alone, I picked up where we left off. “Yes, it is regrettable. Not to mention, if we survive this encounter with him, I must still return at a later time for this particular coin.”

  “And, why is that? If you get a feel for it, then we should try to get it, if only to give us negotiating power. You know it must be buried nearby, or hidden inside his castle. Comte’s sources say he rarely ventures out for fear of losing it again. I’ve been told the slow and agonizing torture Dracul endured away from the coin while imprisoned by Van Helsing was extremely excruciating. If it had taken just a few more
hours for the coin to reunite with this sick bastard, not only would we be enjoying Williamsburg today, but hundreds of other victims would have been spared his cruelty.”

  A wave of searing guilt seized my heart. While I don’t have Roderick’s ability to read another’s thoughts, sometimes I catch glimpses of the horrors wrought by my coins. I suddenly saw the faces of young women, all wearing expressions of acute terror, and all kidnapped from all over Europe.

  “Not very pretty is it?”

  “I hate it when you do that,” I said, as one particular face stayed with me…long enough to see her journey from what looked like the Parisian suburbs in the late twentieth century to the Adriatic coast, as landmarks that had been there for centuries rekindled memories of earlier travels with Roderick and the St. Germaine brothers. The images turned dark, as the castle of Dracul loomed above her. Her screams pierced my soul as she was first bitten and nearly drained of blood, then finally restored to life as a bloodthirsty demon. “We should discuss other business instead, like the rental car you secured, and any other supplies we’ll likely need.”

  “You can’t stand the vision, can you?” Roderick lowered his glasses again, eyeing me knowingly, but with compassion. “She is one of the lucky ones, believe it or not. Vlad added this one to his harem of concubines, where blood is the drug to ensure full cooperation with his sadistic sexual fantasies. But, others—both male and female captives—serve strictly for food and amusement, and not necessarily in that order.”

  His tone became somber, and as the vision faded from my mind, I had the queer hunch he had taken it back.

  “How in the hell did you do that?”

  “It’s a new trick I’ve been practicing,” he said, grimacing. “Without the distractions of love and family, what else am I to do with my spare time?”