Adduné - the Vampire's Game (82 page)

Stroker walked behind her keeping the beam trained on the pine box. Miranda was glad Peter had chosen a pauper’s grave and nothing more grand. It suited him as he was nothing but a petty, worthless creature that fouled the air with his poisonous rage. Miranda was glad to have a hand in ridding the world of such evil.

Stroker had been right about the psychology of dreams. The dreams she had about her father came flooding back to her. They were there trying to convince her that Peter was not laying at the bottom of that coffin. They were urging her through fear to stop what she was doing. She would not be deterred. She couldn’t let him win.

“
This is for you father,” she uttered under her breath as she rushed towards the coffin making the sign of cross.

She climbed up on the platform, using a small three-step ladder. She looked back at Stroker. He was resolute and standing strong. She need only open the lid, and pound the stake into him. She’d need to make it a quick kill. He was sleeping and making it easy. He was hers for the taking.

The video, the betrayal, and Tiffany’s body lying dead in her bedroom ran through her head. Then there was Chase. How much is a brother worth? Oh, how she was going to savor this! Before the murders, Miranda would never have believed she was capable of such violence, but now? It’s what she lived for! It’s what she would remember until the day she died!

She used the hand holding the stake to reach under the lid. She took a breath and tossed it to the side. The almost unrecognizable creature lying inside sat up like a shot. His eyes opened and bored into Miranda. The hideous red mouth opened and hissed into her face, leaving trails of saliva streaming down her skin and sticking to her hair. She knew she had to pound the stake into his chest. She knew she should raise the hammer … but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even move and couldn’t think – for the game had changed. It was just like her dreams – the ones she’d dismissed. Staring at her was not Peter – it was the barely recognizable face of her father – Arthur Perry.

“
Father?” she whispered.

Miranda heard the laughter behind her. She turned. Peter, Rachel, and Rex were standing beside Stroker. Rachel was petting that accursed black cat, grinning, and clearly delighted with herself.

“
But how? What? I, I, I don’t understand!” cried Miranda. She stood helplessly, not comprehending this scene. Her father was dead and buried in England. Stroker had said so. And Rachel was dead also. She’d seen it herself and yet, she was here – standing in front of her – laughing.

“
Stroker!” she screamed trying to ignite him into action. He merely smiled.

Her neck was turned to Arthur Perry who took the opportunity to lunge at his daughter. Peter flew through the air at superhuman speed and grabbed Arthur from behind – restraining him and preventing him from harming Miranda.

Miranda reacted instinctively. She forgot where she was and backed up, slipping off the platform and falling clumsily to the ground.

“
Rachel!” Peter ordered. Rachel put down her cat and flew up on the platform. She took over the job of containing Miranda’s father.

Peter gallantly and elegantly walked down the steps and reached a hand down to help Miranda. She remembered the holy water. She sprang up and grabbed it from Stroker who for some reason was not moving. She shook it in Peter’s face – waiting for it to take effect, but there was no burning flesh – no writhing in pain – only more raucous laughter. He ran his finger over the beadlets and plunged a saturated finger in his mouth.

“
Tastes like chicken,” he joked to the delight of the others.

Stroker dropped the cross to the floor. She picked it up and slammed it against Peter’s forehead. He was angered by the blow and easily wrested it from her grasp. He threw it against the wall. Landing – it made a hollow sound much like the way Miranda was feeling. She didn’t understand what was going on. Why things were not working as they had last night.

“
Really Miranda,” Peter said pulling her up to her feet. “I would think you would understand by this time that this is all part of the game. The charade. Tonight it’s not Holy water. It’s …”

“
Tap water,” Stroker said with a dismissive shrug.

“
But last night …” she stammered not understanding what was said – what was transpiring.

Peter roughly shook her.

“
Listen to me, you twit! Obviously, last night it was real. Hence Rachel suffering being scorched, but no matter. We heal very nicely. I think you could have figured that one out on your own.”

“
But the stake … he pounded it into …
her
,” she sputtered pointing at Rachel.

“
Miranda, I’m tiring of you playing the village idiot. Last night was staged! Stroker has been working for us all this time.”

She still didn’t understand. The noises, the sounds were unintelligible. They were here to kill Peter … and Peter was here. His words kept echoing in her head, but they had no meaning. In the maelstrom of her thoughts came clarity. She remembered the memory she’d been trying to reclaim. She’d been right about it. If only she’d thought of it sooner ...

It was the night she had dinner with Stroker. She’d come back and discussed it all with Tiffany. Tiffany had written down the name Adduné and discovered it was an anagram for
undead
. Tiffany had then written another name down on that napkin. The name of the appraiser, T.R. Koers …

“
T.R. Koers,” she murmured as in a daze. “S-T-R-O-K-E-R!”

“
Now you’re getting it,” Peter gloated.

She continued to stare at Koers.

“
Then everything you said … everything you did …”

“
Was a lie. Everything was an act … staged so that …” Stroker explained laughing softly to himself.

“
You could give me the final clue …. to lead me here. But why? Why couldn’t you just have killed me there?”

“
And miss this fun? Are you daft?”

“
But the rest … the orphanage? Your parents being murdered?”

“
Allow me,” Peter interrupted, Stroker gallantly bowing from the waist to allow him the honor of explaining. “Miranda, do try to keep up. There were no vampires that hunted his family. However, the story is partially true. His parents were murdered, but by him. They did place him in an orphanage, but then authorities are predisposed to forgive children their sins.”

“
But the name! You were the appraiser?”

“
Yes,” Stroker answered taking a step forward. It’s how I found out about the Fabergé. The Sokolovs paid me handsomely to fake the appraisal. I, in turn, filed the information away. I eventually heard about the Addunés and what they were searching for. I made the connection and approached them. They tested my loyalty by having me kill the caretaker that had allowed the theft. They have promised to make me one of them at the end of this. As you can see, they are making good on their promise. I have not aged but a day since that time. I await the day I will not age at all.”

“
Liars! You are all liars!”

Peter answered for him as he unbuttoned her blouse.

“
You are so jaded. It’s what I dislike about you.”

She tried to slap his hands off her, but was no match. He ripped her shirt so that it was torn open showing her lacy ecru bra. With one pull, he removed her trousers. She stood uncomfortably in her underwear.

“
I like you much better this way,” he growled, grasping her arms behind her.

She was embarrassed to be so exposed. She couldn’t help it. In the midst of this travesty, her modesty took over. It didn’t matter that they were all villains. All except her father. He was hideous. He was a creature of nightmares. A demon. His eyes shone with a mad kind of brilliance. He was snapping at her, his long incisors trying to get a hold of her, but it wasn’t his fault. In the end, he was a victim. Just like her …

She whimpered as Peter’s hand went between her legs rubbing her – trying to make her wet.

Miranda didn’t struggle, but his touch was no longer pleasurable. She’d as soon have a python between her legs as Peter. She hated him. Hated him so much.

Peter continued to knead her clitoris through the flimsy, semi-transparent material. She felt nothing – only repulsion.

“
You now have a decision to make. It’s entirely up to you to choose your fate. Let me explain to you, Miranda, that whoever turns you into a vampire – owns you. That means, if I let your father have his way – you will be his. To do with as he wishes. As you can see, he is no longer Arthur Perry, but a creature without a conscience. That means, you will be the first woman he’s tasted and he will want to taste more.”

Her father struggled against Rachel’s firm grasp. His movements were clumsy and awkward – she had no trouble keeping him still.

“
You’re probably wondering why he’s weak. It’s because he’s been fed only once since being turned into one of us. We offered him Perrone, that nosey police officer. He’s the one over there.”

Miranda looked behind the coffin. She saw the once impeccable white dinner jacket soiled with filth and his own dried blood. The starched white collar ended without a head topping it. Miranda searched the floor and found it in the corner where it had been thrown.

“
It was Rachel’s idea. She is so very smart. Much more clever than you – and more beautiful, I might add. As for your father, of course, we switched bodies. Before he even made it to the cemetery. And the switch wasn’t even discovered when Stroker went and disturbed his grave – all to throw you off our scent, but then I suppose one old, decaying, disgusting old man is the same as the next. He wasn’t missed.”

“
You’re disgusting!”

“
Thank you! To transport him and keep him contained, we interned him in the pine box which befits his station in life – and nailed him shut in his prison. Normally, he would have easily been able to rip out of his wooden cage, but didn’t have the strength. We didn’t allow him to feed at Weatherly. It’s why he was so desperate to get shipped out. We let him influence that dolt Pinckus. He thought he was escaping, but we knew where he was being sent. I was waiting here in the museum that night, to overpower him and cage him up again. Rachel hadn’t yet become one of us and needed help. Since then we’ve kept him under lock and key. He thought he was attaining his freedom by being shipped to the Americas, but it was all part of the game.”

“
This is insane!”

“
No, you’re wrong. That part is not insane, but the next part is. I’ve told you what will happen if you are bitten by your father, but you also can choose to be bitten by me. It will mean, I can use you anyway I want. I will have you doing things you never dreamed. You will be a slave to me eternally. That means forever, my little mouse.”

Miranda began to fight. It caused Peter to remove the hand from between her legs.

“
I will never choose either!”

Peter brought his hand underneath her armpits and lifted her up. He spoke into her ear.

“
Really? Not even to save Reginald? And your mother?”

Miranda stopped squirming. He set her down with a thud. She recovered her balance thinking about the offer. She hadn’t considered them. Her mother. She couldn’t let her mother be turned into one of these things.

“
And Chase? Was that real or part of this charade?”

“
No, Chase is dead. Not a vampire. Just dead. Rachel saw to it. She barely broke the skin. When he awoke, he did a swan dive off the balcony. Killing him was another way of hurting you.”

“
But how do you know he jumped? You can’t be at two places at once!”

“
We saw it up here,” Peter said tapping his temple. “Once we get into your mind, we can see everything. He jumped from the balcony like a crazed frog. You should have seen him! Quite entertaining.”

“
Shut up! Don’t you dare make light of my brother’s death!”

“
We can do as we please, Miranda. It’s you that are under constraint,” he whispered as he tugged her arm upward at the elbow.

“
Stop!” Miranda screamed. It felt like her arm were being broken. In another second, it would snap in two. Slowly the pressure eased off. “And all this is about those
things
? Just things that father took!”