Chapter 8 (Adam Novus Chronicles - Book 1)

The ordered wake-up call made me want to smash that infernal device into a million pieces. I refrained since I needed to empty my bladder of an impressive amount of filtered alcohol—as quickly as possible.

Any doubt I had about the vampire’s ability to get drunk was cleared up last night when I had to carry the very plastered Marcus back to the hotel, while he continued singing in an off-key voice. Oh, I was drunk too, and still have some blank spots in my memory, but my inebriated state was somewhat manageable, even if I had as much of the hard stuff as the aforementioned child of the night.

One thing I discovered about myself is that while I now have a very high alcohol tolerance, it still affects me in a regular way. Arguably, it clears from my system rather quickly and makes me sleep more than a few hours I was getting used to, but it is a good thing to know that I can still get drunk.

“What time is it?” The vampire with the visible effects of a hangover asked as he exited his room, giving the old fashion phone that was still ringing a few moments ago an evil eye.

“Five after six. I told them last night before we went out to wake us, you mentioned that we have a flight to catch in an hour.”

We did not speak much afterwards but took care of our morning ablutions, so we would be a bit more presentable. Both of us got seriously wasted last night. After raiding the breakfast cart and filling up a large cup of strong black coffee to go, we hurried downstairs. The same car that drove us to this hotel now took us back to the Manaus International Airport.

“What?” Marcus said when he saw me incredulously looking at the plane that the car drove us to, and I mean—almost to the stairs.

“This is our ride home?” I asked, probably sounding like a country bumpkin when first seeing an ultra-high-priced car.

He just shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the point of having money, if you don’t indulge from time to time? Come on, let me show you the inside.”

You know that you are rich when you have your own plane to fly you around. This was a freaking Bombardier Global 7500 that had flown here only to take him home. If you had never used this particular plane model for traveling—don’t. It will ruin the enjoyment of any other kind of transportation vehicle—forever.

This plane was the reason why the word luxurious was invented. Big leather chairs, beautiful wood paneling, and the height of insanity—stylish stonework in the bathrooms. I do not know who thought that marble on a plane was a good idea, but he was clearly deranged. Add to that a full dining room, small multimedia theater, and a private bedroom.

Moreover, the captain that met us at the foot of the stairs told me that his baby was specially modified to have more than an 8,500 nautical miles range, so it can complete a nonstop flight from New York to Sydney, Australia. I encouragingly smiled at the prideful captain and thought that such a loving look he was giving to this flying work of art was not very healthy, but to each his own.

A few minutes after the takeoff, a hot stewardess brought us drinks and a full platter of snacks. I am not one to pass on free food.

Most of the flight I spent surfing the web, so many things to learn, so many changes to absorb. Unfortunately, the vast majority of events that happened while I was taking the longest nap in history, was not that uplifting. For one, Michael Jackson died, and then there was the global financial crisis, the rise of ISIS, Japan's tsunami and nuclear disaster, and China’s emergence as the world's largest economy. The enormity and importance of social networks were mind-boggling, but at least we did elect the first African-American president, which I consider progress. Those were some of the highlights of what happened in the last decade, but there were so many other things to absorb.

I tried that new sense of mine on the stewardess (I’m just a man, don’t judge me).

My attempt at flirting was rejected with a smile and a joke. I had a feeling that while she did find me attractive, in an aesthetic sense, her interests were on the other side of the fence; like on the other stewardess, the one she was kissing a minute before I interrupted them with my drink order. It was a good thing this plane came with a shower as I needed a cold one. Marcus has seen the whole thing and was smirking to himself as he watched me crash and burn, what a jerk.

One thing started to bother me in the last few hours—I was starting to feel weak; that freaking fog from the jungle was back. Noting too alarming for now, but it was there all the same. What the hell was wrong with me? This new body of mine came with a few drawbacks.

The plane had to make one stop on the way, to San Juan in Puerto Rico. We did not go out, just waited for a bit until the official-looking guy in a suit came to the plane and gave the captain a sealed diplomatic pouch.

Marcus made a few more phone calls, to arrange the transportation from the airport to his home (when we reach our final destination), and got some news that bothered him. If he didn’t want to share, I wouldn’t pry into his business. The plane was back in the air twenty minutes after the landing,

“Here, these are for you,” Marcus said, after taking the pouch from the captain and retrieving from it a thick envelope.

Inside were my new documents. A new passport, driver’s license, birth certificate, and all the things you usually need to prove to the government that you are a real person and not just a figment of your imagination. The passport came half-filled with a bunch of stamps, the last one being an exit stamp from Brazil.

I have seen my share of fake documents, was even trained to spot them with a glance—these were the real deal. I don’t know what strings Marcus had to pull, but these were issued by the government. The only people who I knew could do stuff like this were certain alphabet agencies.

The name on all of them was Adam Novus.

Marcus saw me looking at the name and said, “It was the most acceptable surname they had that came with your name and in your approximate age group, that or Adam Cilokin . It was a rushed job on a short notice, but you are now in the system, all spick-and-span.”

“Thanks, it will do; not to mention that I don’t really see myself as a Cilokin,” I smirked, looking at my mug on the driver’s license.

I said my new surname a few times; trying it on for size… it fit. I was never that good with Latin, but I remembered that Novus meant new, and that was exactly what I was. I had this feeling that the old me had died in that cave with Captain Jenkins and his men, and what came out was something truly new, quite different from what I once was.

A few hours later, the plane started its descent towards our last stop. New York City, the Big Apple; where more than eight and a half million souls decided to gather in one place. For better or for worse—my new home. (It’s not like I had too many choices, being broke, that is.)

Entering the US was done a bit differently than I was used to, and it only took a few minutes. For one, the Customs and Border Protection officer came to the plane and didn’t look twice at my passport. As Marcus said, being rich has its advantages. We were in the limo not long after the plane landed, going to the house that Marcus’s clan owned.

***

Driving in a pricey stretched limo should be a pleasant experience, but my head was killing me; I could feel every single bump on the road, every correction the driver was making with the steering wheel. Quite frankly, I was close to blowing chunks all over the rich Corinthian leather.

“Are you okay?” Markus asked me after a while, seeing that I was turning fifty shades of pale.

“Yeah, just feeling a little out of sorts, must be a jet lag.” I tried to dismiss it with a lame joke and a fake smile.

Nevertheless, this condition of mine was worsening; the feeling of a deep hunger was once again growing within me. I told myself that I was stronger than this, it was my freaking body, and it will bow to my will. (Yeah… I can be a moron at times; the power of self-delusion and all that jazz.)

“Adam, something is going on in my house, a gathering of the clan was called without my approval. I'd better take you to a hotel on the way, no need to get involved with my problems,” Marcus said with a serious face, but I could feel emotions he was trying to control. Inside, he was worried, and it had nothing to do with me.

“No, I got your back if there is some trouble,” I answered in a much cockier manner than I felt at the moment.

The little worry line between his eyebrows showed as he was thinking it through, then he nodded a few times.

“Thanks, maybe it’s nothing, but I have this feeling… we will see soon, won’t we?”

Twenty minutes later, we were coming up to a grand house surrounded by the big estate. Marcus said that we were traveling on his private road for the last few miles already. The house looked like one of those antebellum homes on southern plantations, just a hell of a lot bigger. I don’t think I could live in such a place, easy to get lost in.

Two servants opened the doors and took our bags; a vampire in butler livery came close and bowed to Marcus. (Completely ignoring me.)

“Sir, the gathering has already started, they are waiting for you,” he said with a neutral expression on his face, but underlying it was a strong emotion of fear.

Marcus proceeded deeper into the house and I followed a few steps behind him; looking around at not so subtitle displays of wealth. Oil paintings and big tapestries that were on the walls, countless sculptures tastefully arranged through the corridors. I could tell everything here cost an arm and a leg.

“Listen,” Marcus slowed down so I could catch up, “No matter what happens inside—don’t show fear, and never try to run away; that can activate a predatory instinct within us. Stay close but in the background, I may need you as a witness.”

I nodded and continued to follow him. Finally, we came to the big double doors that Marcus opened forcefully. He pushed them so hard they banged on the walls that they were attached to. (This was no way to treat the old heavy oak, but that was one hell of a theatrical entrance.)

At a glance through the opening, I could see that there were some thirty vampires in that room, all of them startled by the loud noise.

He smiled and said, “Ah… so nice of you all to come together like this, I didn’t expect a party in honor of my return.”

The richly dressed vampires were showing signs of a sudden discomfort, like children caught with their hand in a cookie jar. It was hard for me to discern individual emotions, just as it is hard for normal people to separate one voice in a crowded airport. However, I could see that there was one group that displayed defiant sneers in Marcus’s direction.

“This is not a party Marcus; this is an official meeting where we will decide if you are still capable of leading this clan.” A youngish looking man from that group said, standing in front of his friends. You could never tell with vamps, he may as well be old as dirt. Regardless of his species, he was the kind of man I disliked on sight. (The first impressions are usually the right ones, in my experience.)

“Damien, I should have known it was you behind this, you’ve been a problem for long as I can remember. What did you have in mind? Simply ask me to leave and appoint you in charge? What?” Marcus asked, his face showing annoyance.

The rude vampire, Damien, pulled his upper lip, showing his teeth, and snarled.

“You abandoned your position, leaving us without leadership for months. There were all kinds of troubles after you left, and there was no one to speak for the clan. You made us appear weak and pitiful. You don’t deserve to lead this clan, that’s why I summoned all the city elders here, to vote about removing you from the position of our leader.” The punk said with a smug smile on his face.

“Troubles that were all started by you, if I am not mistaken? At least that was in the reports I read on the flight here. Furthermore, I did not abandon anything; I was hunting two of our members that broke the law. All the way to the Amazon Jungle in fact, where their dead bodies now feed the scavengers. Weren’t those two… your friends, Damien?”

Damien’s eyes blazed with hate, while he was grinding his teeth. (I can hear the strangest things now. Note to self, stay away from occupied bathrooms.)

“Did you really convince yourself that this is a democracy, where we vote for positions?” Marcus continued. “Damien, tell me you are not using those drugs you sell to people? They do have an adverse effect on us, make us act like idiots.” My friend said in a calm, relaxed voice that infuriated the troublesome vampire. The others just stood there, unmoving and watching what would happen next. Some glanced in my direction, confused about what an ordinary human was doing here. (Or were evaluating the quality of a snack, I couldn’t be sure.)

The pissed-off vampire approached Marcus, trying to exert his will or to intimidate him with his size. He was built like an obsessive bodybuilder and quite larger than Marcus was, but it did him no good. It was akin to hitting a mental brick wall; Marcus simply stared him down. This was some predatory pissing contest, and the young upstart was found lacking, despite his size. At that point, his attention turned to me; in my weakened state, I undoubtedly looked like an easy mark, a weakling.

“And what have you brought with you? A pet for us to play with?” He snarled coming closer to me, giving me that same smile of disdain I saw on the faces of the two vampires I killed in the jungle.

I saw a twitch on Marcus' face and felt his regret that he allowed me to come here. A slight change in his body posture indicated that he was getting ready to intervene in this negatively escalating situation.

Until that moment, I was following Marcus’s instructions; standing close to the doors, watching the entire spectacle while feeling like crap. I did not want to sit down on one of the many chairs arranged around the room; there was a chance I would not be able to stand up again. The moment his attention focused on me… I sensed him. That strange thing of mine told me he meant to hurt me, to give me pain.

In an instant, I awoke from the half-asleep state I was in for some time. The primal urge… the need… stirred up with the vengeance and took over my body. I saw this vampire, this Damien, as something appetizing; he was so full of life. I could almost taste the energy his rushing blood carried through the veins; a strong heart beating the sweet symphony of life. As soon as he came close enough, my left hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up, until his legs were dangling a foot above the floor. He was so light, not heavier than a feather. From deep inside me this deep growling sound started, vibrating my entire chest cavity. (What the hell? I either need an exorcist or a rabies shot.)

His hands were trying to pry open my fingers from his throat, but it was like trying to force a heavy-duty bench vise, ultimately futile.

My right hand was pulling back, ready to strike… and at that moment someone stopped me, by grabbing my wrist.

“Adam, stop this, it is not the time or the place. Control it!” A voice forcefully whispered close to my ear.

For a moment, I felt an urge to obliterate the creature that dared to interfere with my feeding, but then I saw his familiar face and paused. Somehow, I stopped, and denied myself the prize. I owed Marcus; he was a friend… my only friend. Damien went flying toward the far wall as I tossed him like a piece of garbage, unworthy of dirtying my hands with. The remaining vampires' faces showed shock, their emotions full of dismay.

Marcus steered me towards the door by applying slight pressure on my back. The sudden surge of energy that gave me the boost of strength was abating, going away like a receding tide.

“Let’s get you situated, there has been enough excitement for one night,” he said loud enough for all those present to hear.

We did not make a few steps when I felt it again—Damien. His hate and a murderous intent radiating towards me; I knew deep in my bones that he was going for it.

Time slowed down its normal pace; all my senses came into a sharp focus in a split second. As I turned, he was already running in my direction, mouth opened, with fangs exposed and threatening.

It felt the same as that moment in the jungle, just before Marcus’s attackers were coming for me.

It is nice when the food comes to you. An errant thought flashed through my mind.

I moved, like lightning, one moment I was beside Marcus, and the next—Damien was in my grasp again; pinned to the floor like a bug in an insect collection. My hand was crushing his throat, feeling the windpipe give and collapse, my other hand holding the black knife, piercing his heart. A torrent of energy was infusing me, filling me up like a battery.

In his eyes was a look of pure terror; a deep-seated knowledge that he was facing something beyond frightening, a monster.

The fog, which muddled my mind for some time—suddenly dissolved; burned away by the onslaught of energy. I wanted to smile, to roar aloud, announcing my dominion of everything around me. Damien’s life energy was mine now, tasting as the sweetest wine one could ever experience. That feeling of absolute euphoria lasted for eternity; time had no meaning, and I was in a world of my own creation for a while. Then I came down, not crashing, but gliding down like a bird’s feather that falls on a calm lake.

Damien was dead, just an empty carcass now. I got up on my feet and looked at the faces of all these vampires, trapped in the room with me. They were pulling away, fear smelling like a fine perfume in my nose; part of me could actually taste it and enjoy it, immensely. They were weak, nothing more than a source of nourishment to feed on. Tearing into them would be effortless; my claws would make sure of that. They were an inferior species, playthings.

“Adam?” Marcus said, approaching me slowly as if he was afraid that I would turn on him next.

Hearing my name broke the spell.

In the next instant, I was myself again, the reality of where I was reasserting itself as a bucket full of ice water poured over my head.

“Yeah,” I answered, raising a corner of my mouth to show him I was OK now. Even if I certainly was not; whatever that last part of my thought process was—it wasn't my own. For a moment, I felt like I was somebody… or something else… something immensely powerful and angry. I was standing in front of a bunch of vampires, for God’s sake. Each one of them could likely tear me from limb to limb. Yet, a moment ago I perceived them as a wolf would look at the bunch of lambs… weak and… tasty?

Marcus closed his eyes and took a deep breath before his face returned to that carefree mask he was showing to the gathered vampires.

“As I said, let’s get you situated, it was a long trip, your room is ready.”

He pointed his head toward the door, almost screaming with his emotions that we should leave immediately. I took another look at the vampires’ clan muckety mucks; they didn’t move at all, giving a good impression of petrified statues. I could sense no threat… just barely controlled fear, so I turned my back to them and followed Marcus outside.

He did not say anything else and led me towards another wing of the great house, until we arrived in one corridor with many doors. He opened the first one and indicated that I should enter. As soon as we were inside, he leaned his back on that door and slid down, sitting there on the floor.

“So… that went well,” I tried to lighten the mood, wondering how much I screwed up.

“Shit…,” he murmured, “you don’t get it…” and for a short time just shook his head. After a minute, he visibly got himself together and looked at me.

“Adam, that room was filled with some of the most dangerous vampires in North America; New York is considered our capital on this continent. This was all a set-up by that moron Damien. If things went his way, there is a good chance that I would be fish food right now; I guess I owe you another one.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, still not completely understanding what was going on here.

Marcus gave me a very somber look. “There is no way he could convince everyone in that room to come if he didn’t have the majority in his pocket already. A few of the elders I trust explicitly were not here; they certainly have no idea that this was going on. If Damien and his friends attacked me, the others would not have interfered. I am stronger than any individual in that room, but everybody has a limit, and Damien was not alone. There is a rule that we generally don't kill our own unless the law was broken, and that doesn't happen often. For all that, I think I was not meant to exit that room alive. Oh, they would have eventually suffered drastic and quite lethal consequences because of that, but I would be equally dead.” Marcus closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“But all that tall talk—”

“I was bluffing my ass off!” he interrupted me with a manic look in his eyes. “Hoping that it would work, but pretty certain that they would kill us both.”

“Shit,” I said through my teeth, finally understanding the size of the trap we walked into.

“You still don’t get it…” he murmured, looking as if he was trying to find the words to explain himself.

“When you entered that room, you were almost invisible to our senses. It slipped my mind how unusual that would be to others. I told you we could sense when a human, Were, or another vampire is near; it is instinctual. Young vampires are taught to differentiate between the species soon after they are turned. But you… you are like a shadow, a mirage; there… but not really. At best, you appear as a human on a deathbed, barely hanging on. I don’t know how to explain it properly, any vampire would know what I am talking about. That’s how I knew you were not human, from the very beginning. But I have been spending so much time with you, I got used to it.”

He took another deep breath, collecting his thoughts. “Then Damien came at you with an intent to attack, and everything changed; you were there, discoverable to our senses, but unfamiliar. It was strange but not disturbingly so. If everything ended at that moment, you would be a curiosity, just another supernatural. On the other hand, when he came after you again… a hand grenade exploding in that room would not have the effect you did.

“Adam, you moved, faster than any vampire, including me, ever could… and we are a fast species, to begin with. Then that freaky black knife of yours materialized from thin air, and the sense of you increased a thousand-fold. I don’t think anyone there could sense anything but you, everything else was engulfed in the white noise.

“We live extremely long lives, but that is mainly due to the fact that we try our best to avoid life-threatening situations; to witness one of our kind being extinguished in such a dismissing manner… Moreover, he was a relatively old vampire, a thorn in my side for centuries. Always playing his power games, trying to be more than his limited intellect could ever allow him.”

“You’re welcome?” I said and shrugged my shoulders. Marcus absent-mindedly nodded and continued as if he barely heard me.

“That room was full of powerful vampires, and we are the apex predators of this world. But at that moment it was as if we were all chickens, trapped in the same room with a big bad wolf, a hungry wolf at that.”

Marcus was shaking his head, and I could sense that he was reliving those moments again.

“And your eyes… Jesus Christ, Adam. There in the jungle, I thought I was seeing things since I was drained and ready to drop… but it was real.

The whites of your eyes turned black, and irises deep red, freaky and so eerie. Then you stood up and looked at everyone; I just got on the edges of that gaze, yet I sure felt it. We were all being measured, like a farmer would look at his pigs, making a decision which one was next to be made into bacon. You were radiating an aura of such bloodthirsty, murderous intent, it was overwhelming. There was not a shadow of a doubt that you could take us all, the sheer terror your presence exuded was insane.

The reason I snapped out of it was because I knew you, and believed you would not turn on me.” Marcus said with such trust in his voice, it made me feel guilty.

I didn’t want to tell him that there was a moment there, where I was perfectly willing to take his head off. Not being in control of my own actions was… disturbing.

“What about your guests, do you have to go back there?”

Marcus gave a small laugh. “Most of them are traumatized right now; not a single one is still in the house, without a doubt breaking all speeding laws to get away from here, and you.” He said, and his smile turned into a wicked grin.

Reminding me of those last moments before the gathered vampires… was disturbing; I remembered that feeling, the urge, and thoughts, but at the same time, it was as I was someone else. As if all reason has left the building and only primal instincts remained within me. That was not something I wish to be; still… damn useful in a tight situation. As for Marcus, I did not know what to say to that monologue of death, mayhem, and fear… he was babbling a little.

“Sorry... for freaking you out, I mean.”

He laughed; a long, uncontrolled, and a bit manic laugh, until he lost his breath, and then continued to snicker half silently.

“If I wasn’t there, I would have missed it. Man, if I could sell tickets for that show, I would be rich, I mean richer. That was amazing, and not one of them will have the balls to challenge my authority for a time. In fact, I think you just made yourself into a vampire’s bogeyman, the thing to scare the younger ones.” Then he said in a high-pitched voice. “Drink your blood honey, or Adam Novus will get you.” Marcus was still not himself; then again, if I came home and found a bunch of people plotting my demise—I wouldn't be either.

“Is there going to be some consequences over Damien's death?” I asked, not wanting to have vengeful bloodsuckers on my ass.

“No, you are cool; he attacked you first so it is a justifiable kill. We have rules about such incidents; if you are defending yourself—you are in the clear, even if you kill the offender. Besides, nobody liked that idiot, he was always a tool. Adam, as I said, I owe you another one, is there anything you need?” Marcus asked in a very serious voice.

Asking for a million bucks did sound tempting, but I had bigger problems than money.

“Yeah… in the jungle, you said there you know some librarian who could probably figure out if my condition had ever happened to someone before, but do you know of a discreet medical doctor that could run some tests. I mean, the changes my body went through cannot be healthy. Something is wrong with me, and I need to know what.”

I was praying that science could help in finding out what the hell happened to me.

Marcus pondered for a second and nodded. “We have a doctor that deals with supernaturals, He is a good one, and owes me a favor. I'll arrange a meeting, day after tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” I replayed, feeling a bit like a parrot. I said the same words several times to him by now. But desperate times and all that.

He closed his eyes and leaned the back of his head against the door.

“This is twice I walked into a trap that could have easily been avoided. I think I’m getting too amicable. Too merciful in my handling of the clan politics. Maybe it is time for me to step down and return the reins…” He said quietly, more to himself than to me. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Listen,” he said after a short silence, “will you come with me tomorrow? I want you to meet someone?”

“OK,” I answered, wondering who the hell he wanted me to meet. But he didn’t elaborate and I trusted him enough not to ask.

We talked for a little while until he left. I took a quick shower and looked around my room. A few oil paintings decorating the walls looked original; as a matter of fact, I think I remember one from art classes in high school, crazy.

My luggage bag was beside the bed, and I think that the laptop was calling me. It was a good time for me to continue researching a certain subject.

Damn, there is so much porn on the Internet now… so many choices.