A Fall of Secrets Page 26

* * *

As midnight approached, there was a knock on my door. Opening it, I found Jeramiah standing on my doorstep. He held a glass of wine in one hand. He was shirtless and wore dark pants, similar to the ones I was wearing. I noticed the tattoo of a black cross etched into his right bicep.

“I hope you weren’t sleeping?” he asked, a slight slur to his voice.

“No.”

“Good. I wanted to introduce you to some of the others. They are awake now.”

The last thing I felt like doing was going down to meet a crowd of people, but I couldn’t just refuse. They were letting me stay here. I had to put at least some effort into being sociable.

“Sure,” I said.

I followed him out the door. We walked along the open veranda toward the glass elevator.

“We’re out in the open tonight,” he said.

We ascended one level in the elevator and stepped out onto the glass-walled platform that overlooked the entire atrium. I looked up to see that the trap doors in the ceiling were wide open, the light of the moon streaming in. As we climbed the stairs toward the exit, the temperature became warmer, although as we stepped onto the sand it wasn’t as hot as I had expected. There was a cool desert breeze.

Looking around, I was surprised at how many men and women I saw—vampires, half-bloods and a few whom I guessed were witches. Exotic music filled the air from a corner where four women sat playing stringed instruments I didn’t recognize and a tambourine. To their left was a long table filled with containers of blood and alcoholic beverages. Men and women were dancing, and scattered loosely around the dance area were large cushioned chairs. Dozens of vampires shot glances toward Jeramiah and me as we began making our way toward the drinks table. Five men and women—half-bloods—stood behind it, serving drinks.

“What do you want?” Jeramiah asked me.

“Nothing, thanks.”

“Oh, come on. You need something to hold in your hand.”

“A small glass of blood then,” I said. “But don’t add alcohol. I don’t drink.”

Jeramiah faced the young woman looking tentatively at us from behind the table. “You heard him.” He turned to me. “Why don’t you go and take a seat over there.” He gestured toward an empty chair. “I’ll top up my drink and bring yours over.”

I nodded, crossing the sand and sitting down. I noticed Michael—the blond vampire I’d met with Jeramiah back in Chile. Michael Gallow, if I remembered correctly. He looked at me coldly, holding my gaze for but a moment before averting his eyes to the girl sitting next to him.

Jeramiah arrived and handed me my drink. He took a seat next to me and reached for Marilyn, who was sitting on a cushion nearby, pulling her by the arm to sit on his lap.

“Well, this is Joseph,” he said. “Joseph Brunson.”

The crowd looked at me curiously.

“Hello,” I said.

There was an awkward silence as Jeramiah started a side conversation with Marilyn. My eyes roamed the vampires, witches and half-bloods surrounding me. Counting those on the dance floor and those seated, there seemed to be at least a hundred. And there might still be more down below in the atrium. I couldn’t help but notice the same black cross Jeramiah had tattooed on each of their arms—even the witches’.

“Why don’t you dance for us, Marilyn?” Jeramiah said. Marilyn threw him a sultry glance before standing up. She slipped off the sheer coverall she was wearing to reveal a two-part outfit that showed her pale stomach. She raised her hands above her head and began to dance among those seated in chairs, weaving in and out.

Jeramiah watched her, a contented expression on his face, before addressing me again. “I’m sure you’re wondering where we have all come from, and how we found this place.”

“I am,” I replied, taking a small sip from my glass of blood.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose the story starts when I was still a human. A young man. Eighteen years old. I’d already lost both of my parents and, finding nothing better to do with myself once I hit my late teens, I decided to travel East. Whatever few possessions I owned I packed up and set off. It was a long, long journey, but I enjoyed the distraction. I traveled from country to country and ended up in North India. I stayed in the foothills of the Himalayas for several months. I loved it there.”

“Yeah, and he’s kept the long hair ever since,” the black-haired witch, Amaya, interrupted with a smirk.

Jeramiah rolled his eyes at her before continuing. “India was also where I first encountered a vampire. I was out for a walk late one evening. A vampire pounced on me and infected me with his venom. Hours later, I woke up as one myself. The same vampire who turned me ended up bringing me to a coven situated deep within the Himalayas. I spent the next God knows how many decades there. I lost track of time—one day just rolled into the next. But it was in that coven that I met everyone you see here today—except for our half-bloods, of course. They were created by us later.”

“Your witches belonged to that coven, too?” I asked.

Jeramiah nodded, looking toward Amaya again. “We have six witches in total. They’d been staying within the coven. Amaya and I used to be lovers.”

“Firmly in the past,” Amaya muttered.

“Anyway,” Jeramiah continued. “Twenty-odd years ago came the fall of the Elders. They were locked out of Earth and we were free to leave. Nobody was sure where we would go, though. But none of us vampires felt like staying where we were. It was a small place and it held too many memories we wanted to forget. I had heard about The Oasis. I’d heard of the Maslens’ demise. I led everyone who wanted to follow me here. With the help of our witches, we managed to salvage the place and make it inhabitable. It was a slow process to get The Oasis to what it is today.”

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