Blood in the Marsh Read online

  He remained in Turkey until just before the turn of the century. In 1192, Ismail left, appointing one of his most trusted followers to maintain the loyalty of the group whose membership was passed down from one generation to the next. He traveled to Bulgaria, having inside information that soon it would once again enjoy the status of becoming a major Balkan power.

  Along the way, he happened upon a wealthy young man who was journeying with his fiancé and her maiden aunt. They were bound for the man’s home in Bulgaria where they were to be married. Seeing the opportunity so fortuitously dropped in his lap, Ismail took advantage of it. He arrived in Bulgaria as Boris Vazor, a handsome and wealthy young man. With him was an older, but apparently devoted woman by the name of Merris. Together they set up a new order of followers, one composed of wealthy and powerful people who were easily seduced by the promises Boris made.

  After many years, and many several generations Boris grew weary of Bulgaria. Through his network of spies he became aware of a new and exciting opportunity; one far too irresistible to pass up. During the early part of the 13th century, Romania was taking its first steps toward unification. The citizens of the region known as Walachia had united and formed an independent state under the rule of one man, a powerful and charismatic young Prince.

  Boris sent an emissary to the Prince, offering both his financial and political support, which at the time was considerable. He received a message, issuing an invitation for him to visit the Prince at his castle in Walachia. Boris gladly accepted and left his Bulgarian following under the leadership of a well-chosen man. He took with him on the trip a trunk of clothes, a chest of gold and jewels, and a lovely young virgin by the name of Ciera.

  The Prince greeted him royally, ordering a feast to be prepared in his honor. Boris humbly declined, pleading infirmity of age, but requested that the Prince dine with him and Ciera alone in his chambers. Not wanting to lose the support Boris had offered, the Prince accepted.

  The next morning the Prince didn’t appear until late. Everyone noticed at first glance that his handsome face wore an unaccustomed sneer and his voice was harsh and arrogant. He ordered the servants to go to Boris’s room and remove his corpse, informing them that the old man had died during the night.

  The servants obeyed without question, but wondered among themselves what had happened to the lovely young woman. No trace of her was ever found, but there were bloodstains on the thick rugs and walls of the room.

  Rumors abounded through the castle and into the countryside, the story growing more horrid with each telling. But that tale was nothing compared to what was to come. The Prince’s name, Vlad Tepes would be remembered throughout the long course of history; whispered in fear and revulsion. The Impaler, the Destroyer, and the Dragon were but a few of the names he was called. But the most memorable was a name that was to be equated with him many years later when an imaginative writer based the character of his book upon the life of Vlad. That name would never be forgotten. Dracula.

  Lyra put the diary down and rubbed her eyes. She looked over at Nick who was staring across the room with a frown on his face. “What do you think about this?”

  Nick turned and looked at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Nick? You don’t believe this, do you?” she asked.

  He stood up and walked across the room to stand in front of the window. Lyra walked over and stood beside him and he looked down at her. Finally, he sighed and looked out of the window. “I’d like to tell Michael about this. I think he needs to know.”

  “That’s fine. We can tell him together.”

  “No, I need to do this alone.”

  “But…” she started to protest. He looked at her and when she nodded silently he started out of the room.

  “Nick?”

  He stopped and turned to her. “Do you believe this?”sShe asked softly.

  “Lyra, there’s a lot of things we don’t know anything about, a lot of hidden things. That’s the real magic. What we see is only the surface of things. Just like a magic trick, the essence of the thing is always hidden beneath the surface. That’s the secret, you know. Life is the greatest magic trick of all. What we see and what we think we know is seldom the way things are.”

  Lyra gave him a curious look but didn’t comment. Nick turned and left the room. Lyra watched him from the doorway as he stopped and knocked on Michael’s door. After a moment, it opened and she heard the low murmur of voices. A few seconds later Chelsey came out of the room with her robe belted around her.

  She saw Lyra standing at the end of the hall and raised her eyebrows. “What’s going on?”

  Lyra walked down the hall and took Chelsey’s arm. “Why don’t you get a shower and I’ll start breakfast. I think you should be wide awake when I tell you what I found.”

  As Chelsey headed for the shower, Lyra made sure the diary was securely tucked away. He might be gone but her loyalty to Lucius remained as firm as ever. She would protect whatever secrets he had to share.

  Sea Island

  It was midafternoon before Nick and Michael came downstairs. Lyra and Chelsey were in the back of the house where Lyra had cleared out one of the rooms to make a space they could exercise. She was doing sit-ups while Chelsey was polishing her nails a bright pink.

  Michael stuck his head in the door and Lyra jumped up. He looked tired, as if he’d been up all night. His eyes had a darkness around them and his entire body seemed tense. She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m going to get a shower and then grab a sandwich. How about meeting me in the den in twenty minutes. There’s something we need to talk about. Actually, something Nick and I need to tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  “You too, Chelsey,” he added before he walked away.

  Lyra looked at Chelsey and Chelsey frowned. “This shit’s getting too damn weird for me, Lyra! I mean, surely you don’t believe all that vampire stuff?”

  “I don’t know what I believe anymore. I mean, I’ve read all about people who have strange fixations on things like that, believing that they really are vampires and werewolves. But it’s always some psychological manifestation due to trauma or mental illness. If you had asked me that question a week ago, I would have answered unequivocally that there is no such thing. But now, now I’m not so sure.”

  “What do you mean you’re not sure?”

  “Well, just think about it, Chels. First, we have some guys who grab Patty and me and drag us off. They rape and kill her but all they do to me is find out if I’m a virgin or not. Then Lucius’ diary tells about this vampire who’s been alive god knows how long, who rapes and kills a virgin just before he steals some poor guy’s body. There are some strange parallels there, wouldn’t you say?”

  Chelsey shuddered and hugged herself. “God, you’re right! Lyra, what if it is true? What if there really are vampires and what if one is here on the island? What if…”

  “What if we go fix some lunch and hear what Nick has to say before we work ourselves up in a knot over this?”

  Chelsey grabbed her nail polish, and followed Lyra to the kitchen. Lyra made a plate of sandwiches and put them on the table. She was just pouring glasses of iced tea when Nick walked in.

  His face wore an expression she could not identify but she didn’t say anything about it. She set the plates on the table and handed him a glass of tea. He gave her a quick smile that looked forced and sat down, eating in silence.

  Michael came in a few moments later. His disposition was much the same as Nick’s, except he didn’t look at anyone. Keeping his eyes downcast, he sat down and ate.

  Lyra couldn’t even think about eating. Her stomach was in knots from just the oppressive atmosphere Nick and Michael were creating with their silence. They finished and she quickly cleaned up the table.

  “Anyone want coffee or anything?”

  “I’ll take a drink,” Michael said as he stood up.

  H
e walked into the den and crossed to the bar. Filling a shot glass to the rim with bourbon, he tossed it back then poured another but left it untouched on the bar.

  Lyra sat down on the couch and Chelsey perched on one of the wing chairs as Nick walked to the bar and leaned over to whisper something in Michael’s ear. Michael nodded and polished off the second drink then turned around.

  Nick walked over and sat down beside Lyra. “There’re some things I think you should know. It’s kind of complicated and it’ll take a little time, so bear with me.”

  She nodded and said nothing. Michael walked over and took a chair across from the couch. He and Nick exchanged a look then Nick looked back at Lyra. “You remember I told you I was in the service?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there are a few things I left out. I entered as an officer, straight out of the Naval Academy. That’s when I met Michael. He and I joined up at the same time. We got to know each other during training and both of us were offered the chance to go into special services.”

  He leaned back and stared at Michael, seeing a look of pain pass over his face. “Renee and I were going to be married before I left for the training school. She and her sister, Cari met me at the base. I was surprised that Cari had come. I introduced her to Michael and before the weekend was up not only was I married but so were Cari and Michael.”

  “You’re married?” Chelsey looked at Michael. “You’re married and you just didn’t bother to mention it?”

  Lyra remembered Nick telling her that Cari was dead and she could see from the look on Michael’s face that listening to Nick talk about those times was very painful. Before she realized it, she snapped at Chelsey.

  “Chels! Would you shut up and let him finish?”

  Michael gave her a surprised look and she smiled slightly then turned her attention back to Nick. “Go on, please.”

  “Well, like I was saying, we got married and then two days later Michael and I were off to the training school. To make it short, we didn’t see much of our wives for a while, but we managed to get in a couple of weekend passes. After we finished our training, we were assigned to the Pentagon, Navy Intelligence. Our team was, let’s say, a special team and I can’t tell you anymore than that about it.”

  “You mean like spies or something?” Chelsey asked wide-eyed.

  Nick gave her a frown and didn’t answer her question. “That was in 1998 We were called in on an investigation. A very strange and hush-hush investigation.

  “The U.S. Navy frigate Samuel B. Roberts was patrolling the Persian Gulf. Three days out of port a crewman was found dead in his quarters. His throat had been punctured. The ship’s doctor, upon examination, discovered that almost all of the blood in the man’s body was gone. Not sprayed on the walls or puddled on the floor, but gone. It didn’t take long for the news to circulate among the crew and as you can imagine the tension started to build. But after a couple of weeks things started to settle down and the crew was getting back to normal. Then it happened again. Another man was found dead, this time his body discovered in the latrine. Just like before, his body was almost devoid of blood.

  “The captain tried to keep it quiet but it’s hard to keep anything quiet on a ship. His investigation of the first death had netted nothing and he felt like it was time to call for help. The orders came through and the brass decided to send in a special team to investigate. Two men were chosen to go in undercover as regular crewmen. Only the captain was aware of their identity and mission.

  “Michael and I were the ones sent in. We were airlifted to the frigate and reported in for duty. Michael was assigned to communications and I was posted to navigation. We were there for two weeks, nosing around and trying to come up with a lead on who the killer was. But we couldn’t find anything.

  “During that time we got to know one of the other guys, a fellow by the name of Duncan Stevens. Duncan was a big blond-haired guy from California who had enlisted thinking he would travel to all the great beaches and do some killer surfing. But once he got in, he got hooked and was one of the best sonar men around.”

  Nick looked over at Michael and Michael nodded, letting memories flood his mind. “Yeah, he was a hell of a guy, that Duncan. Not for shit at playing cards but could read a sonar like an artist.”

  April 1998

  Nick and Michael sat at a table in the mess hall with Duncan and a guy from engineering by the name of Greg Roberts. Drinking coffee so thick and black it would fuel the ship, they played poker and joked about Duncan surfing behind the ship.

  “Heard the latest poop?” Duncan asked.

  The others shook their heads and waited for Duncan to relay the gossip. Along with being the best sonar man on board he was also the biggest gossip hound. Nothing got by Duncan, he had sonar ears.

  “Well, the way I hear it our boys spotted an Iraqi ship trying to lay down mines. Called in a couple of choppers and blasted ’em halfway to hell and back. But they’re keeping it quiet, if you get my drift. Iraqis are acting like it never happened.”

  Nick shook his head and upped the bet. Michael called and took a drink of coffee. “Duncan, when you get out you really ought to go into the tabloid business or write a gossip column. I’ve never seen anyone who can dig up shit the way you can.”

  Duncan grinned and played his hand, losing again. “Shit, man, when I get out I’m gonna find me a cute little beach bunny and make lots of little surfing rabbits and chill in the warm sun. What about you guys? Either of you married?”

  Michael smiled and pulled a picture of Cari from his pocket and showed it to Duncan. “My wife.”

  Duncan wiggled his eyebrows. “Man, if I had a babe like her I wouldn’t let her outta my sight. Get your ass outta here and go home and make some babies!”

  Michael laughed and put his picture away after another look at it. Duncan looked over at Nick. “So, man—what’s your story. You got a wife or what?”

  “Or what?” Nick replied. He had no desire to discuss his marital status, which at that moment was in the toilet. A week before being sent to the Roberts he had found out Renee had been having an affair for six months.

  “Sounds like it could be a long sad story, dude. Why don’t you tell Uncle Duncan all about it?”

  Nick opened his mouth to tell Duncan to drop it but was drowned out as a call came over the speakers from the bridge for Duncan to report.

  “Well, duty calls, dudes.” Duncan smiled and stood up. “Gotta go show these wimps how to stroke a sonar. Just like a woman, you know. Stroke ‘em just right and they’ll give you anything you want.”

  Michael and Nick chuckled and Roberts tossed his cards down in disgust. “I’ve had it. If I drink one more cup of that mud I’m gonna puke. See you guys later.”

  They picked up the cards and walked back to the crew quarters. Michael sat down on his bunk and frowned.

  Nick looked over at him with a puzzled expression. “What?”

  “Got a bad feeling.”

  Hearing Michael say that gave Nick a bad feeling. Most people didn’t put much stock in such things, but whenever Michael got a bad feeling you could bet that something was wrong.

  Another call rang out for Duncan to report to the bridge immediately. Nick and Michael looked at one another for a moment then took off running back the way they had come. They ran into the mess hall and looked around then headed for the bridge, checking every nook and cranny along the way. Finding nothing by the time they arrived at the bridge, they backtracked.

  They stopped at the mess hall then ran to the galley. “Hey! Cookie!” Michael yelled. “Seen Duncan around?”

  The head cook shook his head. “Nope, just came on.”

  Michael and Nick searched the galley. As Nick walked by the meat locker, he paused. Thinking it was a long shot he pulled open the door. “Oh shit! Michael! Over here!” Duncan lay on the floor of the locker. He had been stabbed once in the throat just under the left ear. His face was drained of color, his lips were blue, and his
eyes stared sightlessly ahead with a frozen look of surprise and fear stamped in them.

  Michael groaned and knelt down beside the body. “Son of a bitch! We’ve got to get this bastard, Nick, and lock him away.”

  Nick stood up and stared down at the body. “I’d rather just put him away permanently, if you know what I mean.”

  “That’s not what we’re here for,” Michael reminded him. “We’ve got to do this by the book.”

  “By the book?” Nick looked at him. “For Christ’s sakes! This bastard doesn’t even know there is a book! Look at him, Mike! A few minutes ago, he was alive and talking about having babies. Now he’s just a slab of bloodless meat on the floor. And you want to talk rules? Well, fine. You find the son of a bitch and you can lock his ass up. But if I find him I’m gonna blow his ass away.”

  Michael shook his head and Nick turned and walked away. He looked at the cook who was standing in the door to the locker with round eyes. “Call the captain and the doctor, Cookie.”

  The Present—Sea Island

  Nick fell silent and Lyra stared at him, seeing the anger stamped on his face. Then she looked at Michael and saw tears standing in his eyes.

  Michael stood up and went to the bar, getting a couple of shot glasses and the bottle of bourbon. He sat down and poured two shots, handing one to Nick. They touched their glasses together.

  “To Duncan,” Michael said.

  Both of them downed the liquor then Michael settled back in his chair. Now that the story was unfolding, he felt like he might as well let it all out.

  “Duncan’s death was the worst thing I’d ever experienced at that point in my life. I remember sitting in the mess all night, going over everything time after time, trying to get an idea of how it could have happened. By morning, I wasn’t any closer to solving it than when I started. I finally gave up and lay down and the next thing I knew it was midafternoon. I got up and started looking for Nick and…”