CHAPTER 9

 DAKOTA WASN’T SURE what to expect when Constance Lorraine walked into the restaurant, but it certainly wasn’t the stooped, withered old woman leaning heavily on a cane. Her silver hair was pulled tightly back into a bun, accentuating the sharp features of her face. Several strands managed to escape the knot falling loosely around her ears and neck.

The faded brown wool sweater draped loosely around bent shoulders, the tattered collar and holes in the elbows clear evidence of its importance. Standing, Dakota pulled the chair out and assisted the elderly woman as she slowly lowered her tired body onto the seat, placing the cane against the side of the table. Motioning for Dakota to sit, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Dakota returned to her seat and waited patiently while the woman caught her breath.

“Phew!” she gasped, opening her eyes to look at the young woman across the table. “I...  didn’t rea... lize it was so... far from the hotel.”

Dakota had never seen eyes the color of coal before, except the one time the rage was in control of Yemaya. Black and shiny, the pupils and irises merged together to form small ebony pools of darkness that reflected the overhead lights. Dakota found them extremely disconcerting but refused to look away.

“Are you all right, Ms. Lorraine?” she asked, concerned about the older woman’s pallid color and labored breathing.

“I’m fine, deary. Just need to catch my breath a bit.”

“Can I order something for you to eat or drink?”

“Just a glass of water please. I don’t normally eat out.”

“I imagine it might be more of a hassle for you than room service,” Dakota empathized, motioning to the waiter.

“I imagine so.” The elderly woman chuckled.

“Oh, gosh. I didn’t mean to imply,” Dakota apologized, embarrassed at how her remark sounded.

“Now, now. I knew what you meant, Ms. Devereaux. Besides, I’m well past the age of being insulted so easily. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to read people pretty well and ignore those unworthy of attention.”

“Well then, I hope I live that long. I sure haven’t learned to do either yet.” Dakota sighed, looking away for the first time. When a cool hand clasped hers, she stared at it for a few moments. The skin stretching across the bones looked like parchment, thin and transparent. Pulsating blue veins protruded across the back like miniature highways. The finger joints were slightly enlarged.

Probably arthritis, Dakota thought.

“No, just age.”

“What?” Dakota asked, glancing up at the black eyes.

“I said it wasn’t arthritis, just age.”

“But how did...”

Shrugging, the older woman removed her hand and picked up the glass of water. She took a sip and stared at Dakota, assessing her looks, personality, and character.

“No, I don’t read minds. It was the most logical conclusion, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Dakota said hesitantly, not quite so willing to accept the explanation. “Oh, drat! Perhaps we should just get to know each other better. I’m Dakota Devereaux.”

“I’m pleased to meet you. You may call me Constance, but for heaven’s sake, not Connie. I hate that name,” she added with a grimace. “It makes me sound like a brainless twit.”

“Constance it is,” Dakota agreed, laughing softly. “Before we begin, I should tell you I’m a journalist. A lot of people get very uncomfortable talking with my type.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s your type that’s the problem, deary. Most likely, it’s the profession,” Constance joked.

Grinning, Dakota decided she liked the woman sitting in front of her. When Constance suddenly smiled, her eyes twinkling brightly, Dakota looked at her suspiciously but said nothing.

“I see you learn quickly.”

Confused, Dakota couldn’t think of an answer.

“Never mind. In time, you’ll have all the answers to your questions. But as to being a journalist, are we on or off the record as your type say?”

“Oh, off. I asked to meet with you for personal reasons.”

“Ah, yes. Your research into cults and vampires.”

Nodding, Dakota told her about the five women and their symptoms. It was while she described the marks on their necks that she noticed the older woman look away momentarily, her gaze straying toward a tall thin man staring through the restaurant window. The slight stiffening of her body accompanied by a frown made Dakota want to take a closer look at the stranger. Although a hat shaded his face, she couldn’t mistake the color of his eyes— black, like those of Constance Lorraine.

“Do you know that man?” she asked, turning back to the elderly woman.

“Perhaps. He reminds me of someone I knew long ago,” Constance replied, her voice cold and emotionless. “Let’s hope it’s not him.”

Looking at the window, Dakota noticed he was gone. “Will he cause you trouble? Should I call the police?”

“No, there’s nothing he can do to me. If it was him, he’s just an unpleasant memory from my past. Now what were you saying about these young women?”

“So far, four of the five have recovered from their illness. Lia, the last victim, is still in a coma. Yemaya, my... uh... friend, said Lia was experiencing some sort of strange dream. I’ve contacted three of the other women, and they vaguely remember having some, too.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“Yemaya described Lia’s as both terrifying and erotic, something about fire and flames. She said it felt as if the flames were alive. Some tormented Lia while another seemed very protective and almost seductive. It was very bizarre. I’m not even sure I understood what she meant.”

“This... Yemaya, your friend. She appears quite intuitive.”

“That’s one way of describing her.” Dakota laughed. “She’s one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.”

“You’re very fond of her, I see.”

“Oh, well... umm...”

“No need to answer that. I can see it in your face. She’s a very lucky woman.”

Dakota blushed. “I’m the lucky one.”

“I’ll be the diplomat and say you both are.” Constance laughed. “But I’m sure you’ve heard that before. So how is it that Yemaya knows about this dream if the woman is still unconscious?”

Dakota hesitated, realizing Constance was uncomfortably perceptive. “I... uh...”

“Never mind, child. Perhaps you need to get to know me a little better before giving away trade secrets, eh?” she teased, patting Dakota’s hand.

“Thanks.” Dakota sighed. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t think she’d like me talking about her like this. She’s a pretty private person.”

“Aren’t we all? Besides, you’re wise not to disclose such personal information to strangers, no matter how harmless they may seem.”

“I guess so,” Dakota agreed. Tilting her head, she stared at Constance pensively. “You kind of remind me of my great-great-grandmother.”

Constance laughed. “I hope that’s a compliment, although that would make me fairly old by human standards.”

Dakota felt the blush all the way to her toes. “Oh, gosh! I didn’t mean age. Grandma Dakota has been dead for a long time.”

Shaking her head, Constance laughed softly. “It gets worse and worse, doesn’t it?” she teased.

Putting her head on her hands, Dakota sighed again. “Me and my mouth. Sometimes it just doesn’t say what I want it to. Anyway, Granny Dakota had this sort of wisdom about her, a worldliness, you could say. That’s what I meant.”

“I thought as much,” Constance said, her black eyes twinkling with humor. “So how do you know so much about her?”

“I read her daughter’s diary. She wrote a pretty detailed description of Grandma’s antics. I have this mental image of what she must have been like. That’s all.”

“Ah. I see.” Constance nodded knowingly. “Well, thank you. I’m sure your distant grandmother was a very wise woman. Country women usually are.”

“How did— ? Oh, never mind. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for guessing that, too,” Dakota grumbled.

Smiling, Constance leaned back in her chair and relaxed. “There always is, if you think fast enough,” she said mysteriously. “But back to the reason we’re here. Tell me about the dead women you mentioned in your email. What do they have to do with the others?”

“We’re not sure they do, but we don’t want to overlook anything.”

“Reasonable. So what have I got to do with all this?” Constance took another sip of water.

“Nothing directly, of course. It’s just when Dr. Lichy mentioned vampires, mostly to make a point, Yemaya decided there may be more to this than everyone thinks. She asked me to research any case studies, legends, cults, etc. to see if I could come up with something. After 1,435 Web sites, I came across yours.”

“Really? It took you that long to find mine?” Constance sounded perturbed.

“Actually, I was glad I found it so quickly. There were over a million more to go after yours.”

“I guess you should be then, although I must be slipping. Normally, I can get people to find me in the first fifty tries. I’m not willing to pay those outrageous fees to get my Web site up to number one,” she said.

“Speaking of which, that’s quite a site you have. It must have taken you forever to upload all those pictures and data. How long have you been working with computers?”

“As long as they’ve been around, I’d say, maybe even longer if you count the abacus.”

“You really know how to work that thing? I tried a slide ruler in college and was totally lost.”

“It takes getting used to. I had a long time to practice with one, but that’s another story.”

“I guess it goes along with being interested in history, huh? I got the impression you were either a history buff or a teacher from skimming through your site. Most of the information seems to be about little-known cultures and cults. Very interesting stuff.”

“From a well-known journalist, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Well-known? Ha!” Dakota laughed.

“I believe your articles in the entertainment magazines have attracted a certain... how do you say it? Following?”

“You know about those? So you knew about me before I said anything.”

“Of course. Like you, I do my homework. At my age, it isn’t wise meeting strangers unless you check them out. There are a lot of nuts out there, but I’m glad you told me. It shows integrity.”

For the third time, Dakota blushed profusely. “Thanks. Anyway, I saw something on your Web site that has me curious.” Dakota tried to change the subject. “On one page, you referred to a people called Gebians. I was particularly interested in them.”

“Ah, yes. A strange culture, mostly legend, though.”

Constance shifted slightly in her chair. Dakota had the impression the woman was uncomfortable for more reasons than just age, but decided not to ask. Again, the old woman smiled.

“Maybe, but in my business, I’ve learned not to accept things at face value. Even legends hold a spark of truth. I couldn’t find any reference to them on the other sites, so I was wondering where you got your information. There’s a chance I might discover something that could help Yemaya.”

“I doubt you’ll find anything else on the Net. What do you want to know?”

“Mostly the rumors about their need for blood. If it’s true, we may be dealing with someone who thinks he’s a descendant and is copying their rituals.”

“There’s always that possibility, I suppose, although it seems a little farfetched. Most of the stories I came across in my travels, so there may be nothing to the legend.”

“Maybe someone else knows something.”

“I seriously doubt it. The places I’ve been, well, there wasn’t an Internet back then. These were small remote villages. Sometimes it took weeks or even months by pack horse or walking to get to them, not to mention needing guides. Outsiders usually weren’t welcomed. Besides, that was long ago.”

“Hmm... still, it’s worth a try. If you can tell me where the guides lived, I might be able to find a family member who knows something.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t tell you. I gave them my word. I can’t disclose the locations of the villages. They didn’t want civilization intruding in their lives then, and I doubt if they do now. That is if they even exist anymore. I must respect their wishes on this matter. Besides, as I said, they just told stories about the Gebians.”

Dakota wasn’t sure what to say. If Constance couldn’t help her, she’d have to get back on the Internet and keep searching.

“Damn. Well, it was worth a try. I’ll think of something else,” she muttered to herself. “I appreciate you meeting with me, and I understand. Any idea how long it takes to scan a million sites?” She joked. “It was kind of you to come all this way on such short notice. I’m sure you’re a busy woman.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

“That’s okay. Your word is your word. I’d have been disappointed if you broke it because of me. So maybe you and I could have dinner before you go back home.”

“I’d like that,” Constance said, pushing off her chair. “Now I really must get back to my room. The sun’s setting and I have to check my emails. You never know when a really important one might show up,” she said, her eyes twinkling with humor.

“True.” Standing, Dakota put some money on the table and walked Constance to the exit. “Thanks again. Please be careful. We still aren’t exactly sure what killed the two women. There might be a feral dog out there.”

“I’m not worried. No one would want an old woman like me,” Constance joked, patting the hand holding her elbow. “After all, you did say the women were young. I passed that age long before you were ever born.”

Waving goodbye, Constance leaned heavily on her cane as she moved slowly down the sidewalk toward her hotel. Dakota watched the stooped figure for several minutes, wanting to make sure she got there safely. Once she disappeared into the hotel lobby, Dakota walked to her car. When she opened the door, she saw the tall thin man from the restaurant enter Constance’s hotel.

This isn’t right, she thought, and decided to investigate. Inside, the lobby was empty except for the receptionist behind the counter.

“Excuse me. Could you please tell me what room Constance Lorraine is in?” Dakota asked. “We had dinner together and she forgot her scarf.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give out room numbers,” the receptionist said. “If you want, I can get the porter to take it to her.”

“No, I think I’d like to make sure she gets it. It’s one of her favorites. Could you call her and ask if I can come up?”

“Certainly, Ms... .”

“Devereaux.”

“Ms. Devereaux.” Picking up the phone, the receptionist punched in 432. When no one answered, she hung up.

“I’m sorry but she doesn’t seem to be in her room. Are you sure you don’t want to leave it with me?”

“No. I’ll call her later. Thanks.”

Dakota watched the receptionist resume her typing on the computer, then quickly walked to the elevator and pressed the button. When the door opened, she stepped inside, bumping into the solid figure of a man.

“Oh, I’m sor— ” she began, only to stop as she stared into the gleaming black eyes of the stranger. Before she could back out, the door closed, trapping her in the small compartment.

“Good evening, Ms. Devereaux,” he said, smiling complacently. “Finally, we meet.”

“I don’t think I know you. Have we met before?” she asked, reaching over to push the button to the nearest floor.

“No, but I’ve seen you around. You and your friend are very well-known in Teraclia.” He stepped closer. Looking around, Dakota realized she was cornered.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, her back against the wall.

“I must be mistaken. I thought you were Dakota Devereaux, journalist and personal friend to Yemaya Lysanne.”

“Well, yes. And would you mind backing up some?”

“Why, do I make you nervous? I certainly do apologize,” he said, smiling smugly but not moving. “Perhaps if I introduce myself, you’ll feel better. I am Ramus Falthama, at your service.”

Ramus bowed slightly at the introduction.

Dakota swallowed, not sure what to say. Staring into his glistening black eyes was like peeking through a doorway into a world she knew would make hell bearable. Not sure what to say, she only nodded.

“Nothing to say? No questions? Journalists always ask questions.”

About to reply, Dakota was relieved when the elevator stopped and the door slid open. Ramus stepped away from her to confront the intruder. Dakota didn’t miss the slight intake of his breath when Constance stepped inside.

“It’s been a long time, Ramus,” she said coldly, glancing momentarily at Dakota. “I hope your business in Teraclia is concluded.”

“Masa’a aLKair, Om Loh Rehn,” Ramus replied, bowing slightly.

Dakota was amazed at the change in the man. Even if she didn’t understand the language, his greeting was respectful, carrying a certain deference to the elderly woman, causing her to straighten her bent frame momentarily.

“I see you have retained your mother tongue well and your manners.”

“It’s all I have left of the good times, Om.”

“Good times are made, not given. You’ve chosen to forget that in your lust for life,” Constance reprimanded, moving to stand next to Dakota.

“I chose life. I was robbed of happiness a long time ago,” he said, fully aware of the significance of the woman’s actions.

Dakota felt invisible. Neither seemed aware of her presence until Constance and Ramus turned simultaneously to look at her. Both had eyes the color of polished onyx. Both were smiling, although apparently for different reasons. Dakota felt warmed by Constance. Ramus left her extremely cold.

“I believe you were about to say good night to Ms. Devereaux, Ramus.”

“Ah, yes. So it seems, Om Loh Rehn.” Bowing formally to Dakota, he stepped from the elevator. “Laila Tiaba, Om, Ms. Devereaux. Till we meet again.”

When the doors closed, Dakota leaned back against the elevator wall and breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t like him.”

“Your instincts are good. Stay as far away from Ramus as possible, although I fear it will be difficult now that he’s met you. He has always been attracted to beauty and innocence. You, my dear, have both. So what brought you here anyway?”

“I saw him following you and thought you might be in danger. He’s the same man looking through the restaurant window. You seemed surprised to see him.”

“I was. Where Ramus goes, trouble follows. However, he would never harm me. I can’t say the same for you or anyone else, though.”

“Maybe we should call the police.”

“No., there’s nothing they can do. Ramus has been around for a long time. If the police haven’t done anything about him by now, they never will. Now how about helping this old woman up to her room?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I can be such a flake sometimes.” Dakota pushed the button to the fourth floor. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“You can ask.”

“Now you sound like Yemaya. Where’d you come from? I mean, the receptionist called your room and you weren’t in it. Did you know Ramus was following you?”

“I knew. Actually, I was waiting for him. It was inevitable. Now let’s go on in and call for room service. We might as well have that dinner now, if you have time.”

“I have time.”

“Good. I’ll just call in the order for us. How do you like your steak? I prefer mine blue, so I hope it doesn’t turn you off.”

“Not a problem. Medium well works for me. I like my beef dead.”

Smiling, Constance dialed room service and placed the order. Motioning for Dakota to sit on the couch, she lowered herself onto a nearby chair.

“I’ve been thinking. I haven’t been exactly honest with you. If I tell you about the Gebians, in what capacity are you acting? Journalist?”

“Off the record, of course, but to be honest, I’d have to tell Yemaya. I don’t keep secrets from her if I can help it.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. It’s good to have someone to share things with, especially someone you love. It’s been a long time since I had someone like that,” Constance said wistfully.

Dakota could feel the woman’s loneliness as her thoughts momentarily drifted to another time. Pushing aside her curiosity, she chose to ignore Constance’s last comment.

“Yeah, Yemaya is that person for me. Anyway, what can you tell me about the Gebians?”

“I guess the beginning is as good a place as any, although much of what I have to tell is folklore, passed down from one person to another. Some of it, though, I know to be true. Let’s see. Maybe a little history lesson is the best place to start. Have you ever heard of Isis or Geb, the ancient gods of Egypt?”

“Isis yes. Geb I just found on the Net. He’s the Earth god or something, isn’t he?”

“That’s right, but he supposedly also created the sun, but that was only a small part of his nature. Geb attempted to capture the souls of the dead to prevent them from achieving the afterlife. Although he was worshiped, he was also feared. Most followers thought Isis was his daughter, but some believe they were lovers. She was highly venerated in Egypt. She was referred to as the Great Lady and the giver of light. It’s believed she made the sun rise.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Dakota took the tray from the porter and placed it on the table. As they ate, she picked up the conversation where they had left off.

“So I take it the Gebians named themselves in honor of this Egyptian god?”

“Not really. His Egyptian following came much later. Gebians are supposed to be direct descendants of both Geb and Isis, but the culture is, or rather was, very matriarchal. The people were ruled by women who were believed to be the direct descendents of Isis. Power passed from mother to daughter, then passed to the consort of the ruling female. Her chosen presided over the people but always under the watchful eye of his queen, thus making sure no male ever gained control of the people. Men were thought to be too warlike for the good of the race.”

“Wow! That must have been quite a culture. I’d like to do a story on them one day.”

“Maybe one day.”

“What happened to them? Other than your Web site, it’s like they never existed.”

“It’s a long story, too long for me to go into tonight. Like most cultures, they made mistakes that cost them dearly. I have an old manuscript for you to read, if you wish, but you must promise not to show it to anyone and to return it to me within three days. I need to return home soon.”

“I would love to read it. Do you mind if I at least show it to Yemaya? I hate the thought of keeping something important from her.”

“I would expect no less from you.” The elderly woman pushed up from the chair and hobbled over to a tattered old suitcase. “I brought this just in case I thought you might be the one.” She opened the lid and pulled out a small package. Carrying it back to Dakota, she placed it on her lap. “You must take good care of this. It’s the partial history of a dying race, perhaps the last remaining record. I have several other documents at home you can read another time. For now, I think this one will interest you the most.”

Staring at the worn cover, Dakota caressed it gently, almost afraid to accept the priceless gift. “I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know, child. We’ll talk again after you’ve read it. Now I must rest. The years have sapped much of my energies.”

Taking the hint, Dakota stood and walked to the door.

“Thank you. I’ll get this back to you as quickly as possible,” she promised, tucking it safely under her arm.

 

*  *  *

Dakota was climbing into her car when she felt a presence behind her.

“You should never be out alone so late in the evening, Ms. Devereaux. The night can be a dangerous place, especially for such a beautiful young woman.”

Shivering suddenly, Dakota turned to look up at the tall man whose face was shadowed by the wide brimmed hat and light behind him. “I’m not afraid of the night, Mr... .Mr...” she stammered, trying to remember his name.

Ramus smiled. Dakota blinked, stunned by its beauty. Glancing up into his shining black eyes, she noticed a glint of humor barely visible in the darkness.

“Ah. Such a brave young woman. A very modern trait, I must say. But then again, today’s females have never experienced the horrors of those in the past, have they? Perhaps it’s a good thing, eh, Ms. Devereaux?” He tilted his head slightly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I really don’t have time now, so if you’ll excuse me, I have to go, Mr...  Falthamus,” Dakota said, looking at her watch.

“Falthama.”

“Sorry, Mr. Falthama.”

“You may call me Ramus.”

Dakota didn’t like the satisfied grin on his face.

“Thanks but Mr. Falthama will do. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course. My apologies for detaining you. Om Loh Reyn must think very highly of you,” he said, nodding toward the manuscript. “I hope you find our history interesting. Until we meet again.”

Backing up slowly, Ramus turned and disappeared into the shadows of the night. Dakota drove off feeling extremely uneasy. The “our history” hadn’t escaped her notice.