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A MOMENT BEFORE MIDNIGHT
By
Aziza Sphinx
© copyright March 2008, Aziza Sphinx
Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, March 2008
ISBN 978-1-60394-112-9
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.
Chapter One
Pain snatched Nicolay from the darkness, his hands immediately going to his throat. Frantically he searched for any marks, any sign that what he had just experienced was real. For centuries nothing had disturbed the Dark Slumber. The intricate part of him inherited when he had become the undead engulfed him in security, allowing him a time of peace when he faced so much turmoil.
Lately though, something crept into the darkness. The sleep no longer offered comfort. Instead it bred fear, deception, and death. Dreaming was forbidden by the Dark Slumber and yet for the past two weeks dreams slithered their way into his mind’s sanctuary.
“It must have been a dream,” he said, shaking his head.
His shoulders relaxed and relief overcame him as he realized he was safe in his lair. Initially searching the room with his gaze, he only saw the dark outlines of the few items in his sparsely furnished home. The silhouettes of the unlit candles hung in the distance as well as the shadows of the contemporary chair and desk set and the armoire that occupied the other side of the room. He then searched the room with his power, spreading it first in one direction, then in another and ultimately in a circle surrounding his sarcophagus.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he said to the empty space.
The rays of the setting sun beat on the walls of his lair, trying desperately to cook the flesh of the corpse Nicolay had become, but he was well hidden and safe. Centuries had passed since his rest had been interrupted, and even then, the dreams had been nothing like the one he’d just experienced.
This one had been more than just some light images dancing around in his mind, distracting him from the solution to an unknown problem. This one was laced with hatred and violence and had the makings of a child’s nightmare hours after watching his first horror movie and consuming gobs of sweets. Never before had the images been so vivid, so lifelike.
Even when Kaida had called him, it was a subtle nudging, just enough to get him to explore the possibilities of the situation. But not this time. This time the message was very clear—someone wanted to get to him. Someone was reaching out to him, urging him to take action, to follow some pre-ordained path. Whatever it was wanted more than just to make him choose. It was forcing him to react.
He lay back down, trying to calm his mind into clarity, attempting to recall the details of the haunting dream. He closed his eyes and concentrated, searching through the still vivid images. Just as if he’d stepped back into the dream, the images of the temple surrounded him. He stood before a bloodstained altar in the center of the temple. The place seemed all too familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.
In all of his six hundred years, he didn’t recall ever visiting a temple.
He visually searched the walls, admiring the engravings.
The engravings were also familiar. Looking down at his arms and back to the walls he noticed the markings on the walls were identical to the tattoos covering his body.
He’d never known life without the tattoos. His adoptive mother had told him they’d adorned his body from the day he came to her as an infant. As he grew, so did the tattoos. They never distorted. Like magic, the images were always in direct proportion to the changes his body experienced.
For years he had searched, trying to find someone, anyone who could tell him the meaning of the pictures, but to no avail.
He’d searched libraries in over a hundred countries, reading book after book of modern and ancient civilizations, passionately searching for another who might have shared his plight, knowing he couldn’t possibly be the first to be blessed, or cursed, with the markings.
In his days as a young man, the days prior to the change, he’d contacted historians hoping someone had discovered markings similar to his on the walls of some hidden tomb. Each letter he received painted the same picture. No one recognized the markings. No one was able to shed light on where he had come from, who his people were, or why had he had been sent away.
He’d finally come to realize the images were those of a people long lost, long forgotten. Images of a people who’d chosen to remain hidden in the depths of history. He had given up after three hundred years, accepting the markings as a part of him, a detail defining who and what he once was.
Once again, Nicolay attempted to remember any additional details of the dream. The images momentarily eluded him, but then she came to him, appearing in his mind like the light of a firefly in the pitch-black night. He couldn’t see her face, but her scent filled his nostrils, soothing his mind. Even as he relived the memory of the dream, her scent surrounded him in his lair following him from the depths of his mind into reality.
She wore a long cloak made of animal skin which covered her from head to toe. The hood draped carefully over her face, hiding even the slightest of silhouettes. She held something out to him, something square, quite possibly a book of some sort.
Initially hesitant, although not quite sure why, Nicolay finally reached out and took the object from her. It was then he noticed she was adorned with many of the same tattoos as he.
Who was she? He dared not ask for fear of how she might react. As she released her hold on the object, she turned and began to walk towards the entrance to the temple. She spoke softly to him, the pain of parting with the gift tearing away at her existence.
Though just a whisper, her voice echoed as if it wasn’t just one voice but the voice of a chorus, one that had not quite mastered the art of singing in unison.
She turned to face him one last time and spoke clearly, decisively signifying the importance of his understanding her words: “I have returned what is rightfully yours. So it begins.”
Then, turning abruptly on her heels, she was gone.
Opening his eyes to once again return to his reality, Nicolay rose from the confines of his sarcophagus. He hadn’t slept with the cover open in years and yet, as he had retreated to his humble abode to escape the rise of the fiery sun, he’d decided the darkness of the lair was enough. He felt the need to be exposed to the world, to test fate, to leave himself all the more vulnerable to true death.
Propped up on one end, the sarcophagus resembled that of any ancient Egyptian ruler. The exterior was trimmed in gold, a picture of his face engraved in the cover, the eyes made of jade, the nose, a perfect replica of his own as if someone had poured a mold and attached it to the coffin’s exterior. He’d paid the carpenter and artist well for the custom-made sarcophagus and it had all been worth it.
As he stepped from the interior of the sarcophagus he heard something hit the floor. The sound of the impact echoed against the smooth walls of the lair. With a wave of his hand, the candles awakened from their long slumber, bursting to life, flames stretching, glad to be free. He reached down and picked up the object, the soft fur tickling the tips of his fingers.
His voice was but a whisper, “No, it couldn’t be.”
Lifting the book from the floor he ran his fingers over the rough leather bound edges of the cover. The top of the cover was animal skin, soft and furry under his touch. The pattern was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. The edges had been sewn together with strips of what appeared to be cowhide. He didn’t recognize the hieroglyph on the front, although the flow of the lines reminded him of his tattoos. Opening the book, the sound of the leather stretching pierced his ears, paining his keen sense of hearing.
The first few pages held drawings of the outside of the temple in his dream. He followed the stair-like exterior to the peak. He wondered how they had been built all of those years ago with no technology, but somehow, inside he knew. He felt a connection to the temple, like it had been his home at some point in time. It was the strangest feeling, to know somehow you had a connection to a place you had only visited in a dream.
The next pages contained drawings of totems, identical to two of the images drawn facing each other on either side of his heart. He traced the pattern in the book and then on his chest.
Although he had yet to feed, the outline felt warm to the touch.
He knew the warmth was impossible. His mind was probably just playing tricks on him, but it felt so real, the warm tingling sensation encircling his chest at the exact spot where his hand rested.
Oddly enough, the book seemed to have some effect on his body. The image on the page began to cast a soft glow. As the images on the page began to illuminate more he felt the images on his body begin to heat with some unknown flame lying just below the surface, warming the flesh from the inside out. He placed his hand over his heart, willing the burning to cease and it did. The fierce burning reduced to just a tingle below the surface of the skin.
Nicolay’s eyes turned down to the image on the page. It too had returned to its original state, a dark amber color brushed lightly across the paper.
“But what does it all mean?”
As he spoke the words, he turned the page. He ran his hand over the drawing of a dagger. If the picture had been drawn to scale, the dagger was only a few inches longer than his hand.
The butt of it appeared to be jade fashioned into a perfect sphere. The blade was engraved from the handle to the tip. He couldn’t understand the writing but he was sure the dagger had once belonged to him. He placed his hand over the picture and closed his eyes, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t remember.
None of this made sense, not the woman in his dream, not the book, not the dagger, none of it. He just couldn’t figure out the connection.
Turning another page, images of villagers celebrating danced around the paper. Two men and a woman stood in the entrance way of the temple, the larger man holding what appeared to be an infant child, presenting it to the other villagers.
A page later, he saw a cloud of darkness surrounding the village. Drawings of those running for their lives dotted the page covering every corner, every open space. Horror masked each face. The terror in their eyes was unmistakable. Something sinister had occurred in the village that pages before had been celebrating the addition of a new life.
But it was the next page that was the most troublesome. A figure covered from head to toe by a cloak stood at the home of one of the villagers. The picture depicted the couple handing a baby covered in strange markings to the cloaked figure.
“A woman.”
Now that he took a moment and thought about it, the figure did seem familiar to him. By the look of the well-groomed hands, the fragile curve of her fingers, the figure was definitely a woman. Then he saw them, the markings, the same markings covering his body, and the same markings the woman in his dream had.
Once again the hood of the cloak hid her face, but the markings couldn’t be mistaken, the woman the couple was handing the baby to had to be the same woman who’d visited him in the dream. It was her, had to be her, but who was she? He started to flip the pages, searching for the answers.
Page after page depicted his life. Each picture illustrated a significant event. The day he came to the Hopi village as an infant, the woman who cared for him as a child, days he lived as a boy in the house of an elder and the first time he killed an antelope were all depicted.
The first pages were happier times. But for every happy time, Nicolay knew the book would show him the desolate times.
When he reached the page he dreaded seeing, the day his life had been stolen from him, he almost cried. The day he had been attacked and morphed from a mere human man into the monster he was today stared back at him.
Who had known the attack was going to occur? How had they known? And if they did know, why didn’t anyone stop it from happening? The questions mocked him. They urged him to turn the page adding hope that maybe their answers lay just on the other side.
Nicolay turned the page hoping to get a glimpse of the answer to the questions that had been burned into his mind for centuries.
However, to his surprise the rest of the pages were empty. He turned page after page after page, but each time the nothingness stared back at him, taunting him until he could bear it no longer.
He slammed the book closed.
“Who are you? Why do you haunt me so? What does it mean?”
He bellowed the words knowing no one was there to answer his pleas. No one was there to explain the mysteries his life had been for so long. He was as he always was, alone.
Trapped in more despair than any person should be allowed to suffer, he threw the book in the armoire, quickly dressed, and exited his lair to feed the everlasting thirst that plagued him.
* * * *
Back and Forth. Back and Forth. Kaida sat in a plush chair in the office of The Apache filing her nails and watching her friend walk a permanent groove into the floor. Tonight she’d chosen to spend her night off in the presence of the most powerful creature she had ever crossed paths with, Nicolay Constantine.
Sometimes she’d sneak to the club and hide in the shadows just to be close to Nicolay. Something about him mesmerized her.
His closeness was comforting, at least that’s what she kept telling herself.
Tonight though, things had been different between them. She found it odd he’d sought her out instead of the other way around. Only under the direst of circumstances would he have approached her to feed.
Over the years Nicolay had begun to care for Kaida, but not in the way she cared for him. He took every possible chance to make it clear their relationship was nothing more than platonic.
If he ever asked, she’d vow her complete and utter devotion to him. She was in love with him, or so she thought. He knew how she felt about him, she had told him a number of times, but he was always the perfect gentleman, carefully teetering on the line between employer and employee.
“If you keep pacing like that, there’ll be a trench in the floor within the hour.” Kaida continued to file her nails, not hesitating even for a moment to glance up at her friend.
The pacing vampire stopped dead in his tracks. With his back turned to the beautiful woman he remarked, “I suggest if you intend to remain welcome in my presence, you’ll keep your criticism to yourself.”
“Touchy. Touchy. You should be nice to your meals. It keeps them willing to offer more. Remember, you summoned me back to the forbidden chambers, not the other way around.” She feigned curtness with her comment, keeping her snickering under control, but she obviously found his irritation amusing.
All of the employees called Nicolay’s office the forbidden chambers. Of those who went in, only Kaida and Xavier appeared to return with their jobs.
“And I am beginning to regret that very gesture.” He spoke the words through clenched teeth.
“Look, your pacing is giving me a headache. Is there something you want to talk about or was I just a quick meal?”
Kaida was being sarcastic and it did not please Nicolay. He could hear her laughing under her breath. This was neither the time nor the place for her mockery and he intended to let her know just that.
“If my pacing bothers you so, you are welcome to leave. But do not mock me, child.”
Although his back remained turned to her, she could imagine the scowl on his face the moment he spoke the words.
“Child! Oh so I’m just a child now!” Kaida stood, her action so swift it pushed the chair she had been sitting in squarely across the floor. “How dare you call me a child! You may be six hundred years old, but I will not allow you to treat me like I mean nothing to you. Should you need another meal, don’t come looking for me.”
Before she could make it across the room to storm out of the door he appeared seeming out of nowhere to block the doorway, a task only those of his kind had the ability to achieve.
“Get out of my way.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth.
“Kaida wait, I apologize.” Things had been hard enough for him lately. He hadn’t intended to offend her. “My rests have not been peaceful for the past few days. As much as I have tried, I have not been able to hunt. You know how hard it is for me to ask you to satisfy the bloodlust, to nourish me.”
He turned from her, lowering his head and resting it against the door. He didn’t want her to see the hurt in his eyes. Kaida was always his last resort. He truly did hate feeding from her, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “I should not have asked you here under these circumstances, but I trust no one else.”
What Nicolay said was true, he had not been able to hunt.
For the past three nights each time he ventured any distance from his lair, the air became thick. The undeniable scent of sulfur burned his nostrils and throat. The scent was unmistakable, it was the scent and taste of pure evil. Something was lurking about, he was sure of it, and whatever it was, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
The past few nights he’d been uneasy. He feared for his life as well as the lives of those he had vowed to protect.
The fact he couldn’t hunt wasn’t the only thing bothering him. It had been nearly a century since he dreamed during the hours of the day. The darkness was usually peaceful for him. His lair was sufficiently hidden, so he had no need to fear attack and yet, lately he had an overwhelming sense something out there was searching for him. By day, he had a constant nagging feeling of being sought out only to have it disappear at sunset.
The darkness hadn’t trapped him over three hundred years as it did those newly turned. The newly cursed had no control over the Dark Slumber. The moment the sun began to creep above the horizon they were sucked under, becoming utterly helpless.
But Nicolay was, by all accounts, old. When the Dark Slumber came he rested, his limbs heavy, his body lethargic, but his mind always remained fully aware of any and everything around him. This time though, something evil, something magic was seeking him out. For what purpose, he wasn’t sure, but whatever this thing was, it was disturbing his peace of mind and he was growing weary of it.
Nicolay let out a deep sigh. It was time he stopped hoping this thing would go away and face the fact there was something out there he couldn’t control, and sooner or later this thing was going to find him if he didn’t find it first. He turned to face Kaida again.
“Please sit down. I guess it is time I explain. Much has happened in a short period of time. I’ll try to explain what little I understand of what is going on.”
He gestured for her to sit down. He hoped she would hear the sincerity in his voice and give him a chance to explain.
Kaida hesitated. She took a moment to study him, his body language, trying to decide if she should accept his apology. He did appear to be at his wit’s end. She had never seen him so distraught. That, and the fact he hated feeding from her made for a convincing argument for forgiveness.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was his last resort when it came to satisfying the bloodlust. That little bit of knowledge hurt her sometimes, mainly because she wanted him to think of her as more than just a meal. But even so, she owed him her life and much more.
Finally, she agreed. “Are you sure you’re ready to talk?”
She wasn’t completely convinced, but she‘d give him the benefit of the doubt. He had apologized, but Kaida knew Nicolay was a very private person. It took a lot for him to open up. She wondered for a moment why he had chosen her tonight instead of Xavier.
Nicolay nodded his confirmation. “Yes. I am sure.”
At least she wasn’t yelling at him anymore. Accepting his apology was a good sign.
Still fuming from his comments, but knowing there was something larger than her pride at stake, Kaida abruptly turned and made her way back to the chair she had forced across the room. She sat down, facing him, watching as he composed himself before he walked back over to where she sat. Kaida laid her head back against the chair and closed her eyes to wait.
Lately, hiding his emotions had become more difficult for Nicolay. When they first met she would have sworn he felt nothing for anything or anyone. She’d secretly watch him sometimes. He’d just stand there, still as the Lincoln Monument, not a glimpse of emotion present on his face or in his body language. He’d just absorb all surrounding him, process the information in that mind of his and no one would ever know what he was thinking.
But lately, things had been different. His emotions shone like a lone jack-o-lantern in a pumpkin patch on All Hallows Eve. He was losing his temper, being short with the employees and most of all he’d once again started that cursed pacing.
Nicolay composed himself and joined her, taking a seat on the couch. He stared at the painting of the Margay above her head. The animal was beautiful, poised in a tree, ready to pounce on its prey. The artist had perfectly captured the mischievousness in its eyes. Looking at the picture, Nicolay felt as if the creature was staring back at him, wanting him to see and understand the secrets it hid.
He shook the thoughts from his head and turned back to Kaida. Not quite sure where to start, Nicolay began with the first thought to enter his mind.
“It’s been a long time, but once again someone haunts me.”
Kaida took a moment to comprehend what he had just said.
“I’m not following you. What do you mean someone haunts you?”
How to make her understand? Nicolay thought for a moment, and then it came to him. “Remember the day I came to you? The day we met?”
“Yeah, as clear as the sunset.” Kaida saw the dagger she had just thrown pierce his heart, “Sorry.”
“Forgiven. Remember when I told you that a few days before I came to you, you haunted me? Even though we had never met I could not get you out of my mind. Each waking moment you called out to me. I heard your screams each time that tyrant touched you. I shared in all that happened to you.” Nicolay stood and made his way to the wall hanging. The painting always eased his mind and calmed his spirit.
“Your torture became my torture,” he continued. “It was nearly unbearable for me so I could only imagine what it was for you. It started out as just hearing your screams, but the more I tried to ignore it, the more in tune with you my mind became. I began to feel your pain, to suffer as you were suffering.” He turned back to face her, she had not turned around so her back was to him. “I had to stop it as much for you as for myself. I found myself in Japan, searching for you. To rescue you from whatever harm was to come your way. Now, the feeling has returned. But it’s different this time, like a subtle hum its growing in depth and intensity, but the urge to take action is still the same.”
They’d had this conversation before. He’d told her years ago the inclination to protect her had overwhelmed him, not because of what she was, but because she was female and neither man nor creature had the right to treat her the way she had been treated. Kaida assumed this was currently the case, but she needed confirmation.
“Do you have any idea who she may be?”
“No. I do not know.” He turned away again, staring into the eyes of the margay. “But that is not my only concern.”
Kaida knew things were bad, but she hadn’t thought things could get worse. When he had come to rescue her, he fought for her life. He risked his own for her. She knew when the calling came he could not fight it for long. Eventually, it would overcome him and he would go to her, whoever she was.
She hadn’t responded to his last comment so he continued to speak. “I fear for all of our safety.” He turned back to her. “I have felt something cursed lurking not far from here.”
“You too?”
Kaida asked. She faced him now a surprised expression on her face. “I was beginning to think I was hallucinating. I thought it was just a figment of my imagination, but if you’ve felt it too, then something must be out there.
Whatever it is, it’s been here a while. I’ve felt it for sometime, but lately, it has been growing stronger.”
Kaida was glad she wasn’t the only one detecting something distinctly supernatural near their home. Nicolay had never told her he had the ability to detect the magic of others, if she had known sooner, she would have informed him of what she had felt.
“I am not sure what it is, but I am sure it is here to do us all harm.” Nicolay was firm in his conviction, but Kaida detected the underlying fear of the unknown in his voice.
“So what’s the plan?”
“For now we wait,” he intentionally stressed the word “we” indicating he wanted her to stay at a safe distance, “I will find whatever this evil is and deal with it myself.”
“And what about the woman?” Kaida asked.
“That, my dear, is my problem. So will you be joining us in the club tonight?”
He quickly changed the subject not giving her the opportunity to object. Nicolay did not want to discuss the woman with Kaida. Although they had remained friends, she had made it perfectly clear she wanted more. He did not, so he thought it safer he not discuss the woman in his dreams with her. She already knew too much.
“After what you’ve just told me, I think not. I will leave you to your business.”
She rose from her seat and once again Nicolay was there in the blink of an eye. He knew she was angry again. In so many words he had just told her to mind her own business. He didn’t have time to nurse her ego so he let it go.
“I will escort you out. It is late and not safe for a woman to be out alone.”
“Now you know good and well I can take care of myself.” She replied smugly.
“Will you not let me be a gentleman, just this once?”
She thought about his comment for a moment. Since she had known Nicolay, he had always been the perfect gentleman. He needed to feel like he could protect someone tonight. He was vulnerable and she knew it.
“Okay, but don’t make a habit of it.”
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