PART THREE

Redemption

Chapter 29

"Man, Lenny would love to see this place," Tucker drawled. The Vampire at the gate motioned them inside while speaking into a wireless transmitter jutting off his ear. Lizzie and Tucker watched with open-mouthed awe as laser-guided machine guns swiveled noiselessly to track their car. As soon as it had passed inside, a series of tire-shredding vehicle barriers popped up from the pavement behind them. There were other men just outside the walls, laboring with shovels to plant mechanical devices in the sand. Tucker figured correctly that they were laying a mine field. Periodically, immense arc lights would swing around, brighter than day in the middle of the night.

Lizzie took Tucker's hand and held on tight as they were led inside Lazarus' compound. Elita, Sully, and Dad followed close behind. Rex slunk in last, his tail between his legs. Another dog barked from somewhere nearby.

Inside the main house, the architecture and interior design reflected the austere tradition of the Southwest, with local clays and wood used for both substance and decoration. Underneath this facade was every imaginable necessity and more than a few luxuries. Lizzie paused, held tighter to Tucker's arm, and marveled at how the furnishings, plants, fireplaces, and bookshelves combined to form a perfect whole. There was even a computer monitor built directly into the adobe in the main room, an input jack for the keyboard barely noticeable below it. There were no wires visible, no phone cords, or extraneous items. An absolute marvel of interior design, and, she realized slowly, rich with half-forgotten memories.

Carlos, entering from the hallway sensed the revelation within her and smiled. She remembered him. "How long has it been, Carlos?"

He sighed happily, and took her in his arms for a hug. "Too long, my little angel. Too long." He held her back to study her. "You are so beautiful now, so grown up. I remember when you were but three, and..." His voice trailed off and he took Tucker's hand. "You must be Tucker. It's an honor to meet you. We owe you a great deal saving Lizzie's life. A great deal."

"Shoot," Tucker said. "Weren't nothing." Lizzie smiled tenderly at his hidden pride.

"It was to us," Carlos continued, "and we will be forever in your debt, no matter how this turns out."

"Is it that bad?" Lizzie asked.

"It's very bad. Very bad. But let's not talk of that now. Come see your room." Before leaving, he turned to the others in their group. "Please wait here for just a moment. Someone will see to your needs very shortly." Lizzie smiled comfortingly at everyone, putting humans and Vampires at ease with each other.

Carlos escorted Tucker and Lizzie to a room at the end of the hallway. It was decorated with pink curtains, ruffles, and stuffed animals, more a nursery than a room. It hadn't changed in twenty-seven years. Under her pillow were strings of red and black licorice, her favorite candy. There was a framed photograph of her when she was two, with her mother and a man she presumed to be Lazarus.

"Well now, weren't you the cute little bloodsucker," said Tucker.

"I realize that you are no longer a child," Carlos explained, "but being your nanny all those years ago, I couldn't part with the memories. I hoped that having them around would make you feel at home."

"Thank you," Lizzie said. "I do feel at home." Tucker sat on the bed, exhausted from the drive, and Rex hopped up beside him to chew on a licorice whip. Lizzie wandered through the room, touching pieces of her childhood, remembering her mother.

"Your father and Mr. Sully will room together in another wing of the house. Elita will sleep down below, so that we may more easily gauge her allegiance. If you need anything, there is an intercom on the wall here." He pointed at a slightly raised pattern in the tile work trim. "There will be someone here instantly Now, I must take my leave. There is still much to attend to." He paused at the door and nodded first at Tucker and then addressed Lizzie directly. "Welcome home."

And oddly, she did feel at home here, in a way that she had never before experienced. There was a dimly remembered connection to the house, to the land, to the crisp air of the Southwestern landscape, to the dry feeling hanging from the juniper branches, to the light that dripped from the stars. The sensation of belonging was increasing with each passing moment. She wanted to revel in it, to relax, and languish inside the protective fortress, inside the love she felt for Tucker, inside the walls of protection from Julius that Lazarus provided.

Time passed quickly there, but in three days and as many nights, Lazarus still had not sent for her. He saw to their every comfort, made sure that they wanted for nothing, but he himself had yet to appear. Tucker, in his usual fashion, wanted to go and find him. Knock on a few doors, step on some toes; but Lizzie felt there was a certain protocol that should be followed, one she understood on a deep, instinctive level. He must come to her, not because she was Queen, but because he was Master. She had no right to seek him if he chose not to be found.

The only good thing to come out of all this, so far as Tucker could see, was that Rex had found a girlfriend, a Russian wolfhound, a Borzoi, whose name was Alexandra. According to Carlos, she was Lazarus' dog and she was a beautiful combination of style and grace. She seemed a little out of place in this wasteland of rock and cactus, but was possessed of such a sweet temper and kind disposition. What she saw in a no-good old cow dog like Rex escaped Tucker entirely, but Lizzie told him that she understood completely.

In hope of gaining some small advantage before push came to shove, as it was bound to very soon, Tucker tried his best to get to know the terrain. In a matter of days, he had familiarized himself with every crag, column, twisted scrub pine and cactus within a ten-mile radius. The most noticeable natural feature was a steep canyon with sheer walls, not far from the compound. Near the top end, where it joined the bald mountains, there were Indian ruins of a sort unfamiliar to him. Below the ruins, and running the length of the canyon, was a little spring that made a brief appearance before the desert heat forced it back underground near the mouth of the canyon.

It was there that they ended up, Tucker and the dogs. While the dogs panted and splashed in the water, he explored the ruins.

There was an eerie silence surrounding them, but it suited him somehow. After climbing a broken, weathered ladder, he sat among the shadows, the shards of pottery, and the scattered bits of woven mats. Studying the lines etched into the clay, he found them curious and unlike others he had seen, less symmetrical, the pattern quietly unnerving. The walls were smooth and cool, and the curious pattern was repeated more intricately there.

The dust was thick over the walls and with his hand he swept it off, revealing a series of figures painted there. These, too, were unlike other Indian paintings he had seen. What differed most was their faces. The artists had taken great pains to illustrate a sense of motion and expression. The motion was mostly that of running, seeming to be retreating; and the expressions on most of the figures were that of horror. There were exceptions. A small cluster of figures were leaning over a prone woman, and they appeared to be eating her.

Tucker leaned back on his heals and thought hard about the significance of this discovery. The Vampires were here before the Indians had left. One of them might well be Lazarus. Seeing this record in stone drove the point home to Tucker that all the recent past events were more than just talk. Here it was, old as the hills - older, even, than the discovery of the New World.

A cold shiver trembled through him. He stood up and regarded the sun, dipping close to the purple-tinged mountains across the way. Sundown, now, was when his life really began. He clambered down to the dogs. Halfway down the canyon, Rex spooked a gangly jackrabbit, all ears and back legs. It bolted down the stream bed, Rex hot on its tail, but losing fast. Alexandra took the opportunity to show her new boyfriend what sets wolfhounds apart from other breeds. She sat for a moment like she was bored, giving the rabbit and Rex a sporting chance. When they were almost out of sight, she stood and licked delicately at her forefoot, then disappeared like Superman after Lois Lane.

As Tucker watched in amazement, she passed Rex in a blur of gray. Surprised, Rex lost control, veered to the side and tumbled into a cactus. Even though his nose was full of stickers, he stood up to watch as Alexandra passed the rabbit too. Once well in the lead, she stopped to let it catch up, only to pass it again. On and on they ran like that until the poor rabbit gave up and plopped down, its ribs heaving from the strain. She sniffed at it and ran a few teasing steps to see if it would start again, but it refused, so she trotted back to see about Rex. She didn't even look winded, unlike Rex, who looked like an out-of-shape pincushion.

"Damn, that girl can run," Tucker said to Rex, who was looking at him over a row of stickers in his nose, eyes welling tears.

"C'mon, we got to get you back to the house and pick those sons of bitches out."

SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO

October 28, 2001, 10:20 P.M.

"I still don't believe you."

Lazarus was immersed in his pool, his body cool and relaxed. Elita stretched out beside him. She rested lightly but certainly on the sand, her back arched and head thrown back to drink in the moonlight, her breasts uncovered and sprinkled by the light of millions of stars sparkling in the darkness. A thick beach towel was bunched below her waist. She rolled over onto an elbow and regarded Lazarus coolly.

"But Lizzie does."

"She is not yet able to make those sorts of judgments."

"She believes that she is."

Lazarus harumphed and motioned for her to join him. She arched her eyebrows and then shrugged delicately, the towel falling from around her, and she slid into the pool.

"Oooh, it's cold." She shivered and then relaxed.

"I must tell you, Elita, it is not often I have the pleasure of such a beautiful bathing companion."

She smiled. "It's not often I have the honor of relaxing with the self-proclaimed champion of free Vampires." Lazarus had been with so many beautiful woman through his eternity, no aspect of feminine beauty remained a mystery to him. Elita was able to fully relax with him, knowing her charms meant little.

"We have lost touch, you and I, over the years."

She nodded, her face shining from the invigorating coolness of the water. "I suppose many Adamites felt the same way during the great schism of the church. Two popes and all that. One in New York, the other... where are we exactly?"

"New Mexico, my dear."

"Oh, yes." She dipped her head under the water and then reemerged, running her hand through her hair. She smiled, revealing her perfect teeth. "So what must I do to gain your trust?"

"You can't. Only historical perspective will allow that luxury. Come, I have something to show you." He hoisted himself from the pool and Elita studied the ample folds of his body as he pulled on a thick robe. She smiled, but wasn't for a moment fooled.

There was more power concealed in that body than most Vampires could dream of. More, she sensed, than even Julius. She pulled herself out to follow, padding barefoot down the hall, still naked and as comfortable with it as a child.

They wound their way deeper into the recesses of the sandstone underground. At an unassuming metal door, he pressed a section of the wall and the door slid open to reveal a bare room lined with video equipment. There was a folding table in the middle and he gestured at one of the chairs. "Please sit."

She did while forming a question. "Tell me. Why have you not seen Lizzie yet? You should be as anxious as Julius to see her, and yet, here it is, what, three nights gone by and you still refuse. Why? And do you have any cigarettes?"

"No. I'll send for some, if you like."

She nodded. "If you don't mind."

He pressed a switch on the wall. "Cigarettes," he said simply. "In the meantime, have some HoHos." He pulled a bag out and slid it across the table. "It's not that easy, seeing her, I mean. She's so young. She has no idea."

"Of what?"

"How important she is."

Elita rolled her eyes. "You sound just like Julius. Anything to keep our Queen happy."

He shook his head sadly. "As intelligent as you are, Elita, and you haven't figured it out. Haven't the centuries taught you anything? My God, woman, you have lived a dozen lives as blindly and stupidly as the most ignorant of Adamites."

She blanched. "I do not need a lecture, Lazarus."

He nodded, a peculiar look of scorn and remorse on his face. "Indeed. What you need is a heart. Look inside yourself. Hasn't a real thought entered that pretty head of yours in the last thousand years? Haven't you just once tried to figure it out, the purpose?

This is not some silly accident we live in. It's life. Eternal life." He pushed the HoHos aside and leaned close. "There is a reason for this, for the evil, the violence. It is no game of chance that we were born Vampires. We are needed, we are necessary."

A knock at the door interrupted him and Carlos entered. Glaring at Elita with undisguised hatred, he dropped a pack of clove cigarettes on the table as well as a book of matches.

"I hope these are to your liking." As if an afterthought, he also dropped a silk robe onto her lap.

Elita giggled before slipping into it, knowing that she was perceived as disrespectful, appearing before Lazarus without clothes.

Despite his hatred, Carlos clearly was not as disinterested in her body as Lazarus. She smiled at Carlos and pulled the robe tight, accentuating the curve of her breasts and the silhouette of her nipples. She used one lacquered nail to split the package, slowly extracting a cigarette, lighting it and blowing a stream of clove-scented smoke at him.

"Carlos, you remembered." Her taunt lacked conviction, however, and he smiled tightly and left without a word.

"You still enjoy silly games, don't you, Elita? I'm surprised you have yet to realize that your power extends far beyond your sexuality" Lazarus sighed, and leaned back in his chair, took a bite of cupcake and contemplated the moist crumbs and cream filling. Elita felt something new, like a child learning an important lesson. Her cheeks reddened and she tapped her fingernails against the table.

"Tell me something, did Julius explain the rationale behind his desire for Lizzie?" asked Lazarus.

"At first I thought it was simply to have a Queen by his side, but now I realize it was something much more practical. World dominion."

Lazarus laughed. "Exactly. Exactly. A new dawn for our kind. No longer confined to the shadows. An earth of Vampires, that sort of thing."

"There is a certain beauty to it," Elita replied casually.

"But that is where you are wrong. There would be no beauty There would be nothing but evil, awful, terrible torment. We have a role, you and I, and those like us. We are to consume evil. It is our legacy Those that live forever must necessarily be evil. There is no other choice. We have a taste of the infinite and it is blood, and there is no need to seek higher ground. We have no time limit. We live forever, and in doing so, are answerable to no one. Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law."

"Aleister Crowley," Elita said, recognizing the words.

"Yes. A human who wished he was a Vampire, that human moral concerns need not apply to him, just as they do not apply to us."

"And what is the problem?" she asked.

"The problem is that we do have a purpose, and Julius has strayed far from that place. Susej came to us with a message of hate, just as Jesus came with a message of love. We must hate so that love can exist. We must be evil so that good may exist. Ours is to contain the darkness that others may contain the light. Without the light, though we cannot see it, this world is not worth living in. Without friendship and love and laughter and joy, how could we go on in our lives of death and decay?"

"These are all just words, Lazarus, words like those of Julius. Words do not matter in the end. Words don't keep your mouth full of blood, your gut full of blood. I know my purpose when I see the fear in their eyes, taste it in their agony. That is my purpose."

"Then you are worse than an animal."

She laughed, a throaty laugh that ricocheted through the room. "More words. What good do they do me?"

"Not words, Elita, faith. I can't convince you with my words, but I can with my faith. I have faith that we are not animals with minds. I have faith that we do serve a purpose, that we are not mindless killing machines driven on by urges we cannot control. I have faith that these urges, this immortality, this power, is not ours by accident. We have a reason, Elita. It may be unclear, but we have a reason."

He leaned back and laced his fingers together behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "You remain in this world, you are here with me now, because I have faith in you. Don't look so surprised. I need you."

"Me. What could you possibly need from me?"

"Look around you. This is my war room. My sanctum sanctorum. It is from here that the battle against Julius, when it comes, will be waged. But at another level; it will be fought from here." He thumped his fist on his chest and the undead heart beating below.

"My heart against Julius' mind, his ego. His thoughts against my faith. When the heart and the mind are at war, there can be no winner. I imagine neither of us will survive. But you will. You always survive. And if you survive, the faith will survive with you."

"Don't be ridiculous, I have no faith," she snapped.

"But you have the capacity," Lazarus said gently, "for I know that you love him. What else could it be? Why would you have stayed with him all these years? Why would you have tipped me off 700 years ago with Mary Anne if not from a hidden desire to protect the world. All these years you have loved him and that would be impossible without heart."

Her chin trembled slightly and tears fought their way to the corners of her eyes, but she swiped them away viciously "You are out of your mind. A dreamer. A hopeless romantic. I tipped you off because I was jealous, as petty as that may sound. When Julius denied me the chance to share in the girl's blood, when it became clear that he and I would no longer be equals, I decided the girl had to be done away with. So, you are wrong. It was jealousy, pure and simple," she said. "You are so wrong." She ran out, slamming the door behind her.

He could hear her retreat as it grew distant. "For your sake, I almost wish I was," he said softly, reaching for another HoHo. He touched the button in the wall. "Carlos, it is time."

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