Through the Moon Gate and Other Tales of Vampirism Read online

  ALSO BY JACQUELINE LICHTENBERG

  The Sime~Gen Series from The Borgo Press

  House of Zeor, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#1)

  Unto Zeor, Forever, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#2)

  First Channel, by Jean Lorrah and Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#3)

  Mahogany Trinrose, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#4)

  Channel’s Destiny, by Jean Lorrah and Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#5)

  RenSime, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#6)

  Ambrov Keon, by Jean Lorrah (#7)

  Zelerod’s Doom, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg and Jean Lorrah (#8)

  Personal Recognizance, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#9)

  The Story Untold and Other Stories, by Jean Lorrah (#10)

  To Kiss or to Kill, by Jean Lorrah (#11)

  The Farris Channel, by Jacqueline Lichtenberg (#12)

  Other Jacqueline Lichtenberg Borgo Press Books:

  City of a Million Legends

  Molt Brother

  Science Is Magic Spelled Backwards and Other Stories (Jacqueline Lichtenberg Collected, Book One) (ed. by Jean Lorrah)

  Through the Moon Gate and Other Tales of Vampirism (line Lichtenberg Collected, Book Two) (ed. by Jean Lorrah)

  COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

  Copyright © 1988, 1989, 1994, 1995, 2002, 2006, 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  Published by Wildside Press LLC

  www.wildsidebooks.com

  DEDICATION

  For John Betancourt at Wildside Press

  and

  Robert Reginald at Borgo Press,

  Who had the idea to collect my short stories

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  These stories were previously published as follows, and are reprinted (with minor editing, updating, and textual modifications) by permission of the author:

  “Vampire’s Fast” was first published in Galaxy Magazine, Jan./Feb. and Mar./Apr., 1994. Copyright © 1994 by IDHHB, Inc. Copyright © 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg.

  “Truth Death” was first published in Galaxy Magazine, Issue #3, 1995. Copyright © 1995 by IDHHB, Inc. Copyright © 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg.

  “Vampire’s Friend” was first published in Heaven and Hell, edited by Winifred Halsey, Speculation Press, 2002. Copyright © 2002, 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg.

  “Through the Moon Gate” was first published in Tales of the Witchworld #2, edited by Andre Norton, Tor Books, 1988. Copyright © 1988 by Andre Norton. Copyright © 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg.

  “False Prophecy” was first published in Tarot Tales, edited by Rachel Pollack and Caitlin Matthews. Century Legend, 1989. Copyright © 1989, 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg.

  “True Hospitality” is published here for the first time. Copyright © 2006, 2011 by Jacqueline Lichtenberg.

  Other Acknowledgments

  Again and always thanks go to Ronnie Bob Whitaker for meticulously retrieving the texts done pre-word processor and on old, elderly, decrepit versions of Microsoft Word.

  I also must thank Sue Stewart, Executrix to the Andre Norton estate, for allowing the use of my story “Through the Moon Gate,” which opened a floodgate of ideas to be explored. Before I wrote that story, I didn’t think I could do a supernatural vampire—now I’m totally engaged in this creature’s existence. So “Through The Moon Gate” is a key item I wanted to present here.

  Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  FOREWORD

  AND THEREBY HANGS A TALE

  This collection presents two kinds of vampire—one that’s the original vampire on earth, first of his kind, or of his line, created by two deities clashing for possession of him; and one that is descended from aliens from outer space via interbreeding with humans (i.e., a science fiction vampire).

  Either one could be the origin of all the myths about vampires and vampiric creatures, neither is what the vampire fan would ordinarily expect.

  First we have Dorian St. James, sometimes known as Dorian St. John, Malory Avnel, Arnaud Lemieux and of course a host of other names over the millennia.

  He was created, as I note in the afterword to “Through the Moon Gate” here below, in response to a request from Andre Norton for a story for her Witch World Collections. How could I resist that? But at the time I was developing my science fiction vampire universe (yes, shamelessly mixing genres) and no way would a science fiction vampire fit into such a gorgeous fantasy universe as The Witch World.

  Also, at the time, I expected whatever character I contributed to the Witch World would stay in the Witch World. So I needed a new vampire whose origin was in magic, not science. (a distinction I don’t ordinarily make).

  So all of a sudden, out of nowhere, this bat form flew through the night and fell through a Gate into the Witch World. Well, it didn’t happen by accident. There was this woman on the Witch World who was on a journey searching for a teacher for her powers, and at just the right moment, she stumbled into an ancient relic and activated it.

  Now what’s a fine peasant girl to do with a dripping wet vampire?

  I wrote to Andre Norton and presented a quick sketch of the idea—a vampire falls into the Witch World. She called me and said no, absolutely not. Nothing Evil like that would make it through. Me? Write an Evil Vampire? No way.

  So I explained he was a good-guy vampire—at that time a very rare breed in literature except for Chelsea Quinn Yarbro’s St. Germain character—whom I greatly admire.

  And Andre Norton said to send her the story, so I did. And it was accepted for Tales of the Witch World #2.

  The moment I saw it in print, I just had to figure out what was so good about this good-guy fantasy vampire that he deserved to fall into the Witch World and have a better life—um, existence.

  Soon enough someone else asked for a story, and up popped Dorian explaining himself. I asked Andre if I could tell the story of Dorian before he fell into the Witch World, and she said that would be fine.

  So as I was asked for short stories, I wrote about Dorian wherever I could fit in a fantasy vampire, and the result to date is in this collection.

  But there’s more to this tale. Some years later, I was asked by an audio-only producer for short stories that could be adapted to a dramatized audio format. Of what I submitted, he chose The Dorian St. James saga, and to date has recorded one of the four available stories.

  That dramatization was broadcast on XM Satellite Radio. I’m expecting the others will follow along with more stories of the origin of Dorian, and his adventures learning how to walk the fine line between good and evil when the rules of existence compel him to kill at least a couple times a month.

  Meanwhile, my science fiction vampires have two novels extant, though not about the same characters. Dreamspy is set out in the galaxy amidst a far flung interstellar ecological war, where magic and science are virtually indistinguishable. In Dreamspy we discover the keys to many mysteries left hidden between the words in Those of My Blood.

  One mystery revealed in Dreamspy is how it can possibly be that aliens from outer space can interbreed with Earth humans. Another is how the interstellar drive of the space ship that crashed on Earth’s Moon actually works.

  Those of My Blood is set just about “now” and a bit into the future when we could create a Moonbase installation to study an alien space ship that crashes on the moon. The novel is essentially a Vampire Romance, very heavy on the Intimate Adventure. On the strength of that Romance element (which actually comes onstage in Chapter 4 of Those of My Blood) and my Dushau Trilogy (Dushau, Farfetch, and Outreach) that won me a Romantic Times Award, I was invited into a 7 author group-blog with Cindy Holby, Rowena
Cherry, Margaret L. Carter (the same writer of vampire fiction and non-fiction mentioned in Vampire’s Friend), Susan Kearney, Linnea Sinclair, and Susan Sizemore on the topic of Alien Romance.

  Titus Shiddehara, the lead male character in Those of My Blood, is a young vampire, but already he’s had several torrid love affairs, an engagement and a marriage, too.

  But he’s another one of the good-guy vampire characters who have learned hard lessons about how to relate to humans. And my question, as always after writing one of these characters, is how did he learn to be so good?

  In the two short stories presented in this volume, you will discover the beginnings of one of Titus’s hardest lessons—why he must use a very delicate touch on human minds when gripping a mentality with his Influence.

  I originally wrote “False Prophecy” in response to a request for a story that was based on a Tarot Card, and I chose The Hanged Man. The sequel, “True Hospitality,” is one of those stories that just wrote itself as a springboard for a novel that has not as yet been written. Both these short stories are set about twenty years before Those of My Blood.

  As you will see in “False Prophecy” and “True Hospitality,” when Titus Shiddehara falls for Gabby, he is being seduced by the Light side of The Force!

  As always my stories are Intimate Adventure. In this volume you will find that the Dorian St. James saga is an Intimate Adventure with barely a mention of a romance or love affair. But Titus Shiddehara, part human and proud of it, has a tendency to fall in love with certain dynamic women who become the source of his motivation.

  Free chapters of the novels are posted and more information about current projects can be found at

  http://www.simegen.com/jl/

  Or:

  http://jacquelinelichtenberg.com

  Jacqueline Lichtenberg

  Phoenix, AZ

  2011

  VAMPIRE’S FAST

  Ever since I wrote “Through The Moon Gate” for Andre Norton’s Tales of the Witch World #2, I’ve wondered what Dorian St. James did to deserve falling through a gate into the Witch World. This tale explores his origins and nature long before that event. See the story, “Through the Moon Gate,” below.

  The charred lump of flesh in his arms had been his daughter, or the closest thing to a daughter that his kind could know.

  The vampire who, in San Francisco, called himself Malory Avnel, or sometimes Dorian St. James, gently lay the remains on the soft velvet couch, reading the area with all his senses. There were faint impressions in the lush rose carpet, mortal footprints. A mélange of scents lingered in the apartment as did faint, indefinable and unnamable traces of psychic presence.

  As he knelt beside the blackened corpse, the events unrolled in his mind as if he were remembering them, though he’d been nowhere near at the time.

  Rita had been sleeping the day away, as their kind must. Two large men had broken in. He could almost see them. Well groomed. Cologne. Hair spray. Freshly dry-cleaned wool suits. Real leather shoes. Guns. Garlic. Newly sawn ash stakes. Perhaps even silver crosses.

  If he ever encountered them, he’d know them by their body odor. Scrubbing and deodorant couldn’t hide it. No two humans smelled alike. Most probably these two worked for Don Jose del Rio, the latest success in the drug import business.

  It was Malory’s habit to take the two kills a month he needed from among humans who killed other humans for profit. He considered drug dealers in that category since most modern addictions were deadly. Lately, he’d been preying on del Rio’s middle-management, a singularly superstitious lot.

  A few weeks ago, Malory had been surprised while feeding on a particularly satisfying kill, and had left the scene before disposing of the exsanguinated corpse.

  Rita had also been feeding on del Rio’s organization, and it was possible that she, too, had made an error, leading them to her. Or they might have found her through him.

  The killers had left none of their paraphernalia behind. They hadn’t needed to use it. Rita was so very young. Even when dragged from her sanctuary into the bright sun slanting in the window–it must have been about four p.m. from the angle–she hadn’t been able to rouse herself enough to put up more than a token struggle.

  Her sleeping robe was torn. There were broken bones in her left foot. And Malory hadn’t been there to help.

  Shaking with emotions he couldn’t name, he knelt, gently placing his hands on the charred skull. It crumbled. “Rita, I swear by the gods of my fathers, the next blood I feast on will be that of your murderer—however long it takes.”

  His chin dropped to his chest, and he choked on the unutterable need to cry. But of course, he could not. He yanked himself away from the remains and went to the well concealed closet which was her sanctuary. He’d had workmen build it into the back wall of her kitchen, concealed to look like a shallow pantry. Then, he had erased their memories.

  Now the shelf unit stood out from the wall next to the door. Inside, the bed was rumpled, a gold satin sheet spilling out onto the floor with a dirty shoe mark on it.

  The whistling tea kettle had been knocked off the stove and lay on its side in a puddle.

  He could almost hear her screams.

  He shuddered, fighting the inward visions, the pain.

  A long time later, careful to leave no trace of himself, he gathered the sheets, sealed the closet and snapped the pantry shelves in front of it, breaking the lock so the next tenant would not find it. He cleaned up the tea kettle.

  Then he rolled the charred remnants in the sheets, carried the bundle to the basement and disposed of it in the incinerator. It was the new, non-polluting kind. Even as young as she’d been, there’d be no traces left of a body.

  And now, he knew, he needed help—mortal help. With the negligence of millennia of practice, he took bat form.

  By three a.m. he was outside a town house a few blocks from his own house, high on a cliff overlooking the ocean beach—an area that was usually heavily fogged in. He still had a few hours until the sun would drive him to sanctuary.

  Resolute, he turned to mist and sifted through the screen into the bedroom of David Silver.

  The human was snoring. Malory watched him fondly for a few moments, then whispered, “Dave! Dave, wake up!”

  The snoring arrested in mid-breath, and with a mumble and a start, David Silver sat up in bed. Then he relaxed. “Oh, it’s just you. Wha’time’sit?”

  Malory told him, and Silver swore. “Why do you do this to me? Don’t you know I need to sleep at night?”

  “Rita’s been killed.”

  “Oh. Is she okay?”

  “No! Mortals broke into her sanctuary and exposed her to the sun. She’s gone. True Death.”

  “Oh, no!” This time it was a cry of grief. For a time, the two had been lovers. Then Rita had become involved with Malory and decided to accept immortality, leaving Silver with this house and a whopping mortgage. Malory had extended the same offer to Silver, but he’d refused emphatically.

  Malory waited as Silver worked through the shock, the brief rage at Malory for making her a vampire, the reverse of blame to himself for letting her do it, and the realization that it had been her choice to make. And then there were wracking sobs that didn’t pass quickly at all.

  Malory sat on the bed and put an arm around Silver’s shoulders. For the vampire, the human’s tears were a necessary cleansing he needed to share. When it was over, he felt the release into calm acceptance that he could not have achieved on his own. He let his forehead rest on Silver’s shoulder, against his neck, to enhance the contact.

  Sniffing, Silver asked, “Are you hungry?”

  Malory pulled away. “No. I fed well only last night. I have sworn the next blood I take will be her killer’s.”

  Silver pushed his bedclothes aside and threw on a robe. “Come on,” he said leading the way to the kitchen. “Tell me the whole story. I have to know it all.”

  As Silver drank black coffee, Malory recounted what
he knew. “So, Dave, I’m sworn to get them—and their boss as well. But I’m going to need help. Mortal help.”

  Silver studied the dregs of his coffee. “I’m a tailor. I don’t even have my own business. I work for a department store. I was never even in the army. I’m in terrible shape and I’m hopelessly clumsy. What can I do that you can’t?”

  “Stay awake in the daytime—as my foes do.”

  “Foes. How poetic.”

  “I’m sorry. I read a lot.”

  Silver gave him a cockeyed smile. “Foes. Okay. They killed her. They’re my foes, too. What do I do?”

  “Guard me in the daytime. Let me use you to enlarge my sphere of awareness so none can come upon us unwarned.”

  “Malory, I can’t guard you all day. I have to work.”

  “Quit your job. I’ll put you on my payroll at double your current salary. Afterwards, you’ll get a bonus that will let you open your own shop. Deal?”

  “I didn’t know you were that rich.”

  “I’ve had a while to work at it.”

  “I suppose. You’ve never said how old you are.”

  “I don’t exactly know.” He shrugged. “Millennia. Aren’t you going to ask me what you really want to ask?”

  “You keep saying you can’t read my mind.”

  “It’s more empathy and knowledge of human nature than telepathy. I said I want to use you, and you haven’t objected to that. Why?”

  “I hate thinking about what you are.”

  “If you’re going to help me, you must think about it. You’ll be my spare hands and eyes. I’ll ruthlessly compel your actions—and they won’t be slow or clumsy. If it comes to a fight, I’ll use your body regardless of the injury it might take. But Dave—you could die.”

  Silver was looking at him as if he’d never seen him before. “You could do all that?”

  “It’s not even difficult.”

  “But you’ve never—I mean, I’ve never felt you....”

  Malory reached across the table and took the man’s hands in his own. “I wouldn’t ever without your permission. Oh, I do erase memories, for my own security. And I cast illusions about myself. And I take blood from unknowing donors who never miss it. And, Dave, you know I kill humans for my own needs. But I have my own code of honor. I give you my word I’ve never used you, and I won’t without your permission.”