Vampire Trilogy Series (Book 3): Vampire Equinox Read online

  Philip Henry was born in 1974. He first started writing sketches while studying Performing Arts. After that he moved on to short stories and a couple of failed attempts at movie scripts. During long shifts at one of the more boring jobs he had, he began making notes for a novel, which he then wrote on his days off. That novel, Vampire Dawn, was released in 2004 and proved so popular it was extended into a trilogy with Vampire Twilight in 2007 and Vampire Equinox in 2009.

  Mind’s Eye, a novel about the monsters of high school, was released in 2006 to great critical acclaim, as was Freak, the story of a boy like no other, released in 2008.

  Philip continues to write novels, screenplays and short stories, all based around his home on the North Coast of Ireland.

  Also by Philip Henry

  Vampire Dawn

  Mind’s Eye

  Vampire Twilight

  Freak

  VAMPIRE EQUINOX

  PHILIP HENRY

  CORAL MOON BOOKS

  www.philiphenry.com

  VAMPIRE EQUINOX

  By

  Philip Henry

  Published By Coral Moon

  www.philiphenry.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, save those clearly in the public domain, is purely coincidental.

  Vampire Equinox Copyright © 2009 Philip Henry

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Publisher, except for short quotes used for review or promotion. For information address the Publisher.

  ISBN: 978-0-9556556-4-7

  Cover art by Ron McCann

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  eastern lies

  Mito, Japan

  The thief was a woman.

  Even though the figure that approached the palatial house was dressed from head to toe in black, there was no mistaking her feminine curves. She crept across the immaculately manicured lawn with the speed and grace of a cat. She pressed her back to the wall. The night was still. She moved quickly around the skin of the building until she reached the kitchen door. She dropped to one knee and picked the lock. In a matter of seconds she was inside.

  She ran quickly to the other side of the large kitchen and silenced the bleeping panel on the wall with the six-digit code. Takamura’s cleaning lady was an honourable and honest woman, but her teenage son, who had accompanied his mother to work on several occasions, had a drug problem and was easily coerced into selling the alarm code. She opened the hall door a crack and looked around. The hallway was bathed in moonlight and quiet as a tomb. She stepped out and closed the door gently behind her. She got her bearings and made her way quickly to the east wing of the house. The marble echoed beneath her feet as she ran. The portraits of Takamura’s ancestors hanging on the walls watched her progress with solemn expressions.

  She reached the large oak double-doors at the end of the hallway and once again set about picking the lock. As the cylinders surrendered to her manipulations a large clunk echoed in the silence. She paused, looked over her shoulder and waited. No lights came on. No footsteps rushed towards her. Before opening the door she entered the second six-digit code on the panel beside the doors. The light on the panel changed from red to green. She turned back to the door and pushed it open enough to admit her slim form.

  Lights were on in this room. Not the main lights, but smaller display lights that permanently illuminated Takamura’s most prized possessions. She moved slowly along the wall. Though she could speak some Japanese, she couldn’t read it, so the importance of most of the items behind glass cages was lost on her. There were quite a few antique samurai swords – one in particular appeared not to have been cleaned after battle and still bore the dried blood of the enemy it had slain. There was a quite inhuman-looking skull in a case with what appeared to be a snake pickled in brine next to it. She looked closer and the snake lurched for her. Teeth that seemed to grow from the skin of the lifeless creature clinked against its glass prison as it tried to bite her. She looked down at the illuminated plaque and saw one English word among the Japanese – Siren. She moved on.

  Past several ancient parchments she found the petrified remains of some kind of winged demon. It sent shivers up her spine. There were three full shelves containing jars of blood. Then she saw it. What she had come here looking for. It sat on its own stone pedestal. A cylinder of glass surrounded it. A single red light blinked inside assuring her that it had its own independent alarm system. She crouched lower and got as close as she dared to the glass. Though the balaclava she was wearing hid it, she was smiling broadly.

  Three black sedans skidded to a halt outside the Takamura mansion. A dozen oriental men and one Caucasian, all identically dressed in black suits, white shirts and black ties, got out quickly and ran up the steps to the front door. As one of them rang the bell repeatedly, the Caucasian pointed to six of his men and directed them to check the perimeter of the house. The men obediently split in half and ran off around either side of the house. A light came on in one of the windows above them, then another. The Caucasian stepped forward as his second-in-command ceased ringing the bell. The sounds of confusion inside grew louder. The door was edged open and a small man with untidy hair looked questioningly at the group on the doorstep.

  The Caucasian stepped forward. ‘Please apologize to Mr Takamura for the lateness of the hour. My name is Agent Fenton. I’m with The Ministry of the Shield based in Tokyo.’ His second-in-command quickly translated. Takamura himself appeared at the door in his robe, looking irritated. He was a large broad-chested man who was greying at the temples and he was unaccustomed to being disturbed at home. He spoke angrily to his manservant, who related what he knew to his master, then turned to Fenton as Takamura barked in his ear.

  ‘Takamura, san, is of course familiar with your organization, but wishes to know what cannot wait until tomorrow, Mr Fenton?’

  ‘We’ve had a tip-off that you are going to be robbed tonight. A very precious and, in the wrong hands, dangerous artefact that Mr Takamura is in possession of is the target.’

  The manservant related this to his master, who answered gruffly. The manservant turned back to Fenton. ‘Takamura, san, is confident that all security measures have been taken to safeguard his collection.’

  Fenton exhaled slowly into the night air. ‘I would still feel safer if I could check for myself. We would be very quick and then if everything is secure, with your permission, I will leave some of my men here to ensure no one attempts to steal the piece.’

  Takamura and his manservant talked back and forth quickly for a few moments before the master of the house relented. The manservant stepped aside and bowed, admitting Fenton and his men inside. He closed the door and he and Takamura led the seven Ministry agents down the hallway at a brisk pace.

  The thief observed the glass cylinder from every angle. It rested on pressure-sensitive pads; the slightest change in weight would set off an alarm. Her prize was only inches from her grasp. The necklace sat on a black velvet neck display, just like it would in a jeweller’s window. The object inside had never been in a jeweller’s window, though. The stone that hung on the gold chain might not even be worth very much comparatively speaking. However, in the right hands, that stone was priceless. In her hands it was worth more than any piece in any museum in the world. And after spending the last few minute
s studying the security measures that surrounded it, she had come to the conclusion there was only one way to get it out of there.

  She lifted the cylinder up and alarms started shrieking all through the house. She turned and watched the doors through which she had entered being blocked by a heavy steel plate that descended from the ceiling. The steel hit the ground with a solid thud. She turned to the windows and noticed horizontal bars across them, cemented into the walls every six inches. She heard a loud click and turned to see what had caused it. A section of wood panelling had just opened into the wall – a secret door. Could her escape really be this easy? Her optimism was short-lived as a few seconds later the purpose of the door became apparent. From behind it stepped a samurai in full battle dress. He took a few steps toward her and stopped. The warrior removed his helmet and she noted how grey his skin was and how dead his eyes seemed. The warrior bowed to her and then smiled. She saw the pointed teeth and realised what she was facing was another item in Takamura’s collection. The warrior cast his helmet aside, reached over his shoulder and drew his sword.

  For one stupid second she realised she was still holding the glass cylinder. She hurled it at the warrior and ran for the other side of the room. She heard the air being cut behind her and then hundreds of pieces of glass raining down on the floor. She drove her elbow into the display case, shattering the glass, and grabbed the sword inside. She turned to face the warrior. His movements were disciplined and deliberate. He was well trained in the ancient martial arts. They circled each other, sizing up the other’s strengths and weaknesses. The warrior attacked and she defended herself with all her skill and strength. Blades clashed in the air as the two warriors from different centuries did battle.

  Fenton and the rest of the agents reached the doors, having ran past Takamura and his manservant when the alarms went off. Fenton pulled the door open and was faced with a steel plate. He turned to the manservant and his master who were hurrying towards them. ‘What the hell is this?’

  ‘Countermeasures. In attempted robbery, Takamura, san, has secondary security to stop thief from escaping,’ the manservant answered.

  Fenton had heard rumours that Takamura had a vampire “guard dog” but found it hard to believe until now. ‘Disable the security systems. We need to get in there now!’

  The manservant relayed this to his master. Takamura turned around and ran back towards the front entrance. He looked up and saw his wife and teenage daughter in their pyjamas looking anxious on the stairs. He shouted something at them. The girl screamed and her mother grabbed her and quickly escorted her back upstairs. Fenton watched Takamura disappear round a corner at the other end of the hall.

  ‘Where does he have to go to disable the security?’

  The manservant looked scared to answer without his master’s approval but did. ‘His study in the south wing.’

  ‘How long to get there?’

  The manservant shrugged.

  Fenton listened as the muffled sounds of fighting on the other side of the steel grew more intense.

  The warrior had her around the throat, pressed against the wall. He tightened his grip; the ice-cold fingers dug into her flesh until she was sure the skin must break. She reached out on either side of her looking for something, anything, she could defend herself with. She considered herself fairly expert with a sword, but the ease with which the warrior had disarmed her displayed a talent like she had never seen. Her fingers found a glass case on her left. She had no idea what might be in it but punched it anyway. The case shattered and she groped inside, blindly trying to find a weapon. Her fingers probed but found nothing. Bright spots began to pop before her eyes. She was going to pass out soon. She reached out desperately one last time and a shard of broken glass slit through her glove and cut the top of her hand. She turned her hand the other way and grabbed the shard of glass and broke it off. With all her remaining strength she brought it back and drove the point into the warrior’s merciless eye. He released his grasp and she dropped to the ground.

  She scrambled along the floor towards her fallen sword. The point was facing her. She reached along the blade to grab the handle but was only halfway when she was grabbed by the scruff of the neck. She grabbed the blade and thrust it backwards. The sword found a join in the samurai’s armour and penetrated his upper hip. She tightened her grasp on the blade and pushed back. The blade sliced into her palm and fingers, but she had hurt the warrior too. She got wearily to her feet as the warrior tried to remove the sword from his lower torso. Then he saw her move. Momentarily putting his own pain aside, he stepped forward and punched her square in the chest. She flew backwards and smashed into several display cases. She got up, taking deep breaths, and shook the dizziness from her body. The warrior had almost removed the sword from his body. Dark liquid dribbled from his punctured eye. She turned around and looked for something to give her the advantage. The snake-thing floating in liquid lunged at her again. She lifted the tank that contained it and walked towards the warrior.

  The samurai pulled the last few inches of steel from his body and stood up just as she brought the tank crashing down on his head. The snake-thing wrapped itself around the vampire’s throat and squeezed. The warrior tried to remove it but the snake-thing bit at his fingers. It looked like it was trying to get down his throat. She ran to the other end of the room and searched among the debris for the necklace. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the samurai struggling with the snake-thing. She crawled around the floor among the various pieces of gold and precious jewels. The warrior grabbed the snake-thing and a collar of spikes shot into his hand, but still he held on. He pulled it close to his mouth and bit it. Dark yellow liquid sprayed from the snake-thing. The vampire continued to gnaw at it until it was torn into several pieces and had stopped twitching. The samurai turned and saw her on the floor. He walked towards her and drew his sword once more from behind his back.

  She looked down and there it was, right below her palm. She grabbed the gold chain and stood up. She held the necklace out before her and closed her eyes, hoping the legends about this necklace were true. She opened her eyes and saw the vampire was almost upon her. Sunlight exploded from the stone on the necklace in all directions. She had to close her eyes it was so bright. She heard the warrior scream – something she would not have thought possible. Then the light dimmed and faded. She looked down and saw a suit of armour with a burned skeleton inside smoking at her feet.

  The steel door began to rise into the ceiling again. She turned, exhausted, and saw six oriental men pointing guns at her. Fenton stepped forward and smiled. He nodded at the necklace. She didn’t realise she was still holding it out in front of her. She looked at it and then set it back on its pedestal, which hadn’t been toppled in the fracas. She took a few steps forward, as did Fenton. They stopped, facing each other. Fenton reached forward and grabbed the top of her balaclava and pulled it off. She brushed the hair out her face and clipped it to the side. She looked at him defiantly.

  Fenton smiled smugly. ‘Agent Nicholl. Oh how the mighty have fallen.’

  Ministry of the Shield Field Office

  Tokyo, Japan

  Nicholl sat in an interrogation room. Her cuffed hands rested on the table before her. The chair opposite was empty for now, but Fenton’s second-in-command stood by the door eyeing her suspiciously. The only sound was the unrelenting tick of the clock on the wall. There were no windows – the type of individual this room had been designed to accommodate didn’t care much for the light. The door bleeped and Fenton stepped in carrying a folder. His second-in-command stepped out. Fenton stood at the door as it swung shut and bleeped behind him. He spent another few seconds tucking his pass-card into his pocket while looking at Nicholl hungrily. Finally, he walked over to the opposite side of the table, dropped his folder and sat down. He adjusted his chair backwards and forwards a few times before settling and looking Nicholl in the eyes.

  ‘HQ is sending someone for you on the next flight,’ he sa
id. Nicholl remained stony. ‘They said I was free to question you until then.’

  ‘What a treat.’

  ‘Nicholl, I suggest you drop the attitude and talk because what you tell me could mean the difference between you ending up in Section Zero or not.’

  ‘You don’t have the authority to send anyone to Section Zero, Fenton.’

  ‘We’ll see. We’ll see.’ He opened the folder in front of him. ‘Now, let’s see. That little trinket you were trying to steal; The Fist of Merlin, it’s called. Discovered by Chloe Knight back in two-thousand and one outside the town of Portstewart in Northern Ireland – your old stomping ground, isn’t it?’ Nicholl’s face remained blank. Fenton carried on. ‘The Northern Ireland Home Office declared the find Treasure Trove in two-thousand and two, making the piece legally the property of the aforementioned Ms Knight, who then went on to sell it at auction for the sum of seven point nine million pounds to Mister Toshiki Takamura. The piece was reappraised four months ago by Takamura’s insurers who estimated its value now lay at twelve point one million pounds. That’s almost two billion yen.’ Fenton laid the folder down and looked at Nicholl. ‘And yet, somehow I doubt you were in this for the money. Am I right?’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand, Fenton, so there’s no point in me trying to explain it to you.’

  Fenton smiled. ‘I’ll bet I can guess. I’ll bet it all has to do with some obscure prophecy you think you’ve found in The Book of Days to Come.’

  Nicholl forced a smile back at him. ‘That’s right.’