The Blood: A Denouement

Well, folks, I hope you finally get this chapter. I posted it days ago, but something must hve happened, so i had to post again....

Seth Moore had been dozing fitfully ince they’d entered the South, and he snorted right now as the old bus rumbled and blinked, shaking himself and wishing he could get out of the car and walk off the dream.

Jim looked down at him, blinking through his glasses, and Seth knew he would ask him what was wrong. Seth knew what was wrong was all over his face. He had dreamed of them in the night, these same roads covered in the dead, men, women in children, mouths opened, hands flung back in horror, dead eyes glinting back the firelight. On this peaceful land houses were burning, and on theses sunlit roads there had been bodies open with the bloody crosses of machete wounds.

As they approached the house, Lewis said, “You can gasp. You can be amazed. I forgot it looked like this myself.”

“I haven’t been here in years,” Loreal said.

When Marabeth looked at her, she said, “I wasn’t raised here. I was raised with Mom and then lived with Grandma Susanna.”

Susanna Dunharrow’s house had been beautiful, but it was still very much a house, a large house, an old house, but a house. Long Lees, the home of Augustus Dunharrow, was reached through a path that meandered through shaggy moss covered willows and ended in a long white mansion with a great Roman porch, stretching two stories before it.

“It looks like the White House,” Jim Strauss murmured.

“It looks better than the White House,” Kris said.

“It looks like Tara,” Marabeth said, “in Gone With the Wind.”

“Except with no slaves,” Chris Ashby noted.

“Oh, it’s just the opposite,” Lewis said. “It’s Tara after the slaves took over.”

“What?” Kris Strauss looked at him.

“I’m sure Augustus will tell you everything. I’m sure he’ll want to.”

Chris had stopped the great yellow van, and asked Lewis where they should park.

Lewis looked back at Seth and Seth said, “Technically, this house belongs to Lewis—”

“What?” Lewis began.

“Owen told me. As head of the family Long Lees is actually yours.”

“Well,” Levy piped up, “in that case I guess we can park anywhere.”

“He’s right,” Lewis said, clapping the boy on the head, “It’s not like Augustus has put up a real drive.”

Lewis turned to Chris and Levy, “Com’ on, family, let’s go.”

Seth had already gotten out of the bus with Jim, and they were going toward the front porch.

“Loreal didn’t grow up here?”

“No,” Seth said. “Her brother Ethan did. He lives here, and her older sister Eve lives here too. My grandparents grew up here, but not my dad.”

As they were approaching the porch, Jim saw a boy who looked like Loreal, and said, “There is Ethan.”

“He’s not the most hospitable guy,” Seth said without looking, “so don’t be too offended by whatever he says.”

Lewis and Loreal, Chris and Kristian were coming behind them, and Jim began climbing the porch steps, following Seth. He was surprised by how broad the steps were and how strong, for he had expected a squeak and heard none. As he came onto the porch, Loreal’s brother, younger looking in fact than Loreal or Lewis, was sitting there smiling at them, his brown eyes wide and shining and not entirely trustworthy, and the boy said in a tenor voice, “Well, you’ve come at last. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Before Seth could speak, Jim, who always covered his fear by pressing himself forward, thrust out his hand and said, “Ethan, I’m James Strauss, and I’m glad to meet you. Is your grandfather anywhere about?”

The boy smirked at him and murmured, “I’m James Strauss and I’m glad to meet you,” and then looking up at him, still smirking, the boy clapped his hands together and laughed and Jim thought how he’d like to kick this kid in the teeth.

The boy stood up and said, “My grandfather…” shaking his head.

“My grandfather died before the Declaration of Independence was signed.

“I assume you are looking for Augustus Dunharrow,” the boy’s voice lowered, and he seemed more serious, more a young man than a boy.

He tilted his head and smiled at Jim, extending his hand in a leisurely gesture.

“I,” he said, “am Augustus Dunharrow. And you must be Pamela’s grandson. You have the look of her if not her wisdom. Come into my home.”

“I am not as old as your esteemed companion,” Augustus said to Lewis, when they were in the parlor, “but you are right to stare, for I am older than twenty.”

“You are…” Loreal began, looking at her grandfather.

“He could be your brother,” Chris Ashby said, almost frowning.

“He could be my baby brother.”

“It’s only temporary,” Augustus shrugged. “Soon enough I will age back up. A little. It comes and goes. When I get really old I look like… Lewis.”

“Thank you,” Lewis gave Augustus a jagged smile. “Since jokes are all you have, feel free to use them.”

“They’re not all I have,” the boy—Augustus Dunharrow—said.

“They’re all you have that isn’t mine,” Lewis amended, sitting down in an old high backed chair.

“You insolent shit!” Augustus suddenly snarled, stepping forward before Christopher could catch his wrist. “Everything you inherited came from me. I founded this family. Everything in this house is from the sweat of my brow.”

“And the blood of others,” Lewis returned, unmoved.

He sat up, “You should never have made yourself look like a child next to me. It only confirms that, after all, I am the head of the clan and I am your elder.”

Augustus opened his mouth and Lewis said, “The transfer was made when I became Master. My memories returned. I am not the little boy you remember in childhood. I am Malachy. I am the uncle who taught you so long ago. I am also Malek. Look in my eyes. See me there. You know it’s true. Don’t you?”

The young man, his lips trembling either with fear or anger, looked into Lewis, and as his eyes widened, Augustus admitted, “It is true. I see it. Very well.”

“But where is Eve?” Lewis asked. “And where is Ethan?”

Augustus Dunharrow’s face became impassive as a mask.

“They have been…. Punished, and are no longer welcome in this house. They moved against the vampires, and that was never my intent.”

“Punished?” Chris Ashby said.

“Yes,” said Augustus.

“And the nature of the punishment?”

“Suitably horrible,” Augustus said in such a cold way, Loreal trembled looking at the boy who was her grandfather.

“I have no doubt Kruinh Kertesz would approve.”

Taking the measure of this old sorcerer, Chris Ashby said, “Neither do I.”
“Have the servants bring refreshment,” Lewis said to his uncle, wanting to be rid of this talk of punishments for relatives he loathed, but still managed to pity.. “We aren’t staying long, but we are staying a few nights. Before we leave you to your solitude, there are a few things we need from Long Lees.”

Jim took this chance to whisper to touch Seth on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked. “What did you see?”

Seth answered, “The dead.”