COME UNDONE
by
PiperMerlyn
Chapter 0
The Chapters
29 October 2003
Bucaresti, Romania
9:40 am
Cassandra shut the door to her room and sat down in an upholstered chair. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then opened the box and looked at the necklace. She noticed the clasp was broken and a portion of the chain was coated thickly with dried blood.
Vampires. Between movies and books, both fiction and non-fiction, Casi figured she was the closest thing to an expert on vampires. If there was such a thing. In the last twenty years or so, the legendary vampire had developed a multiple personality. There was the mythical Nosferatu and then there was the real thing—people who actually drank blood and was into the Goth movement.
Always curious, she had read up on vampires one time, discovered that Vlad Tepes had been evil but no vampire and not even remotely connected to Bram Stoker’s Count Dracula but for the name. And even the name didn’t mean vampire—it meant son of Dracul which in turn meant dragon.
Casi closed the box and set it on the table beside the chair. But a girl was dead, supposedly drained of blood. Why? Was it connected to the marks on Joe’s neck? She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Who would do such a thing? A psycho—or would that be a sicko?
A squawk made her look out the window. Perched on the balcony rail was a large bird with a long sharp beak and glossy black feathers. It cocked its head and looked at her, then flew off. A chill swept through her and raced down her spine. No...that wasn’t possible was it? Her hand moved and she touched her temple—the one she’d thought she’d hit falling off the bridge yet Joe had said in Egypt that it had been a sniper.
A sniper had killed Bryce. In Ireland, seven months ago Joe had learned that Lilith Raven had been that sniper. Casi went cold with fear. Seven months ago, Joe had had that accident that hadn’t been an accident. Her eyes widened as she realized that maybe things hadn’t gone the route they were supposed to in Paris six months ago. She touched her temple again, knowing the bruise was long gone, there was just the faintest bit of a scar there.
Casi’s eyes shifted to the box. Lilith Raven was a witch, the daughter of a real and powerful warlock. She was also connected with the Hadads which was why Joe had been in Marrekech earlier this year. Was that why he’d gone to Bulgaria, was that why he was here?
She shivered and got up to walk to the window. Perched on a hilltop, overlooking the city was a huge stone castle. Even in the morning sunlight, it looked dark and forbidding, reminding her of Dracula’s castle even though she knew Dracula’s castle was in Brasov.
She studied the towers, the turrets, the parapets and decided it didn’t belong in the bright sunlight. She could easily picture it in the dark of a moonless night, lightning streaking across the sky, candles flickering in the arched windows. She imagined the castle to be a labyrinth, leading her deeper into the structure toward the chamber that was his....
Her eyes drifted shut and she saw a windowless, mirrorless room with faded yet luxurious furnishings and in the center of the room was a dark, ornate casket. She pictured it opening—could almost hear the creaking of hinges—the red velvet lining the only color in the room. The man getting out was the man from last night. He smiled at her, revealing fangs. “You came.”
Casi’s eyes snapped open and she shook her head to clear away the image. The doorman had called it—him—a wraith but the man had looked too solid to be a ghost. But the real question was—who was he?
*****
“She was my great-niece Ailsa.”
Gil Henerik stared at the old man in shock. “Why--?” He shook his head. “Why the bloody hell haven’t you identified her? She’s listed as a Jane Doe.”
“She was tainted.”
“Damn it, Haines, she was your—“
“What do you mean, Roderick,” Natalya interrupted her partner, realizing that they were slipping into that cliched type of questioning. There were times she got tired of being the nice one.
“He tainted her. She was no longer my flesh and blood.”
“Oh sh—“ began Gil, looking ready to burst.
“Gil,” said Natalya. She shook her head at him, then looked at Haines. The old man was only in his early eighties but looked over a hundred years old. He was skinnier—skin and bone, in fact—than he’d been a few months ago, the last time he’d spent a night in jail. “ ‘He’ who?” she asked.
“Thayer.” Haines spat the word out. “He’s a damn vampire. I keep telling everyone but no one listens to me anymore. No one...” He suddenly looked even more ancient, the thin fringe of hair on his parchment-colored skull looked pure white. “No one...”
“Vampires don’t exist, Haines,” snapped Gil, his eyes watering from the strong scent of garlic in the small cottage.
Roderick Haines raised his head, his eyes blazing with an almost religious fervor. “Who are you to decide what exists and what doesn’t,” he muttered. “Just because you’re a fool, doesn’t mean you’re right.”
Gil scowled. He hated garlic. He hated the dimness. Only a single lamp was burning in one corcer of the cramped living room while at least a dozen small candles flickered in another corner. With the drapes closed, it was positively claustrophobic in here. “Now wait a damn minute....”
“He’s right.”
Oh shit, thought Gil, the garlic was getting to her too. “Nat, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Maybe we should check Thayer out, Gil.”
“Aw, come on. He donates thousands of lei to the hospital every year.”
“It’s not a donation,” said Haines quietly.
Both Natalya and Gil turned to look at him. “What do you mean?” asked Nat.
“He pays for blood.”
Gil shook his head. This was getting downright ridiculous. “Now, Haines—“
“Actually....it makes sense.”
Gil glanced at Nat. The garlic was really affecting her. “You’re kidding,” he said, flatly.
Natalya shook her head. She’d started out merely protecting Roderick—after all, he was the same age as her grandfather, he didn’t deserve to be bullied—even by Gil. But what if Haines was closer to the truth than any of them realized? “Think about it, Gil. A wealthy drug addict would ‘donate’ to a cooperating pharmaceutical company.”
Gil narrowed his eyes. Actually, that did make sense. God, the garlic was really getting to him. “So...you’re saying the hospital is catering to his ‘habit’?”
“Exactly.”
Gil didn’t quite sigh. They were all looney. “Okay...say you’re right. Why the vampire-style killing then?”
“It is a warning.”
Natalya arched an eyebrow and gazed at Haines a moment. “What kind of warning?”
“Not to mess with Thayer.”
Gil folded his arms across his chest and glared around the room. His head was starting to ache from the garlic and the smoke from the candles. “But why now? We haven’t had something like this in years, long since before I came here. Why now?”
“The warning may not be for us.”
His partner’s quiet voice stopped the snide remark before he could make it. Gil glared over at her. “Meaning?”
Nat shrugged. “Just a hunch.”
Gil grunted. “Then who?”
Natalya started for the door. “Why don’t we find out?”
*****
29 October 2003
Boston, MA
10:02 am
A high-pitched shrilling broke his concentration. It was more like the buzz of a bee in a steel factory. He looked around and had to shout above the music. “Is that the phone?”
Dark-haired Erick Ashworth frowned and looked around. “Who’s got what bone?”
“He didn’t say bone, he said scones,” called out Kari with a grin.
Marc shook his head, put down his guitar and went into the other room. Yep, it was the phone. Unfortunately, the music was still loud. He picked up the receiver, checked to make sure it was the right way and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Yo....Who? Kay? No Kay here....Speaking.....No. No Donovan---Donovan? Whoa, hold up.” Marc stuck his head out the door. “Take five.”
The sudden silence was nearly as deafening as the music had been. Marc put the receiver to his ear again. “Yo, bro, whazzup?....Oh, Casi. No.....Nope. Hold on.” Marc stuck his head out the door again. “Hey, Erick, heard from Casi?”
Erick looked around as if he thought Marc was talking to someone else. “Me? Why would---?”
“Uh-huh,” said Ian, smirking. “Now it’s out.”
“You shut up.” Erick glanced at his girlfriend who just narrowed her eyes
at him. “Van...”
Adrian played a drum roll. “What he means is have you heard from Cat that she heard from Case recently.”
Ian looked over his shoulder at Adrian. “Okay. What the hell are you on? Another brainbooster drug?”
“Is there such a thing?” asked Erick. He gave Savannah a grin and she rolled her eyes and smiled.
Marc went back to the phone. “Nope......What? She get kidnapped again?....Oh shit. She went with Chad.....What other Chad does she know? And he took her to Transylvania....Nope. Transylvania—or should I say Trrahnsylvainya....What? My accent wasn’t that bad......No. I said Transylvania....Okay, Mr. Exact. She’s with Chad, you should be estatic. So what if he took her to Romania...Noo, not our sister. Not Casi---hey!” Marc yanked the receiver away from his ear, then hung up. “You have some nerve hanging up on me. Just wait till Christmas this year.”
Ian stopped by the open door. “Why is it every time Donovan hangs up on you, you wind up talking to yourself?”
Marc gave him a wild-eyed stare. “Because he drives me insane,” Marc said, doing his Count Dracula accent again. “Ha, ha, ha. Now I will kill you and plead insanity.”
“Like hell.” Ian bolted, with Marc on his heels. They just barely avoided a collision with Carl Dixon on the stairs.
Carl groaned and made his way to the practice room. He jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Donovan called?”
Adrian nodded. “Yep. So when’s lunch?”
Savannah gave him a shocked look. “We just had breakfast.”
“Help! He’s trying to eat me!”
All heads turned to the door, then Erick shook his head. “Ignore him. I haven’t found toothmarks yet.”
Carl shook his head. “Post adolescents, the lot of ya. Sometimes I actually think I’m nothing more than a damn babysitter.”
Adrian snorted. “I’ve seen cuter.”
“Shut up, Landers.”
“Mommy said I could have all the popsicles.”
“You too, Ashworth.” Carl wagged a finger at Kari and Savannah. “Not a word out of you two.”
They just laughed.
*****
29 October 2003
Orlando, FL
10:11 am
Donovan glared at the telephone. Sometimes his brother really aggravated him. He sighed and finished off the last of his late breakfast. He enjoyed the rare chances to sleep in sometimes.
“Something wrong?”
Donovan looked over at his wife and shook his head. “No, Britt. Marc’s always been a royal pain in the ass.”
Brittani finished off her coffee. “Not that I was eavesdropping, darling, but Chad took Casi to Romania?”
“Yeah. That’s a disaster in the making.”
“Why? I’ve heard Romania is a beautiful country. I’d like to go there someday.”
Donovan sighed. “Casi’s always wanted to go there, too. See Dracula’s castle, meet a vampire or two.”
Brittani laughed softly. “Vampires don’t exist.”
“Well, Casi’ll find the one who thinks he’s a vampire. Or turn into one herself.” Donovan got up, brought his dishes to the sink, then wiped off his hands on a towel.
“Well, she does shun daylight when she can.”
“So I’ve noticed.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Need a ride in?”
Brittani shook her head. “I’ve got errands to run. Are you going to call Cat?”
“Yeah. I’ll call from the office. I’ll see you for lunch?”
“You bet.” They shared another long kiss, then he left, Brittani following him to the front door. She waved as he pulled out of the driveway, then heaved a happy sigh. It was absolute bliss being married.
*****
29 October 2003
Washington, D.C.
10:15 am
“What do you mean, you don’t know. Damn it, Jack, stop giving me the runaround.”
“Shoo, Ashworth, shoo.”
“No. Where’d he go after Bulgaria?”
“North.”
Ethan was getting damn tired of asking the same questions, and getting the same pet answers. He’d expected Joe back way before the first week of July—if not in Arlington, with Casi in Provincetown. A week of waiting and he broached the subject with Jack for the first time. Now he’d lost count how many times he’d asked. He slammed both hands, palms flat, on Wilder’s desk. “I want the truth.”
Jackson Wilder didn’t blink, didn’t even flinch. “He’s still in Eastern Europe.”
“Which is how many countries? Five, six?”
“Six. Disappear, Ashworth.”
“Which one?”
Jackson Wilder looked up at him. “Why?”
Ethan scowled. “Joe could probably use the backup.”
“Out of the question. He’s undercover.”
“Oh, hell, when is he not?”
“This is different. Macklin is undercover.”
Ethan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Who’s he after?”
“Confidential,” said Wilder with a shake of his head.
“Damn it, I’m his partner.”
“Not this time out.”
Ethan glared at him. “And what are you doing?”
“That’s confidential too.”
“Not that,” Ethan snapped, dismissing the folders on Jack’s desk. “What are you doing to Joe?”
Jackson frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Ethan took a deep breath. “Raven was in Ireland.”
“Yes. I was aware of that.” Jack replied in an overly patient tone. A good sign he was getting quite annoyed.
“They had an encounter.”
Jack sighed. “Yes.”
“Joe was looped for awhile.”
“Looped?” Jack frowned, not really liking the sound of that. “What do you mean looped?”
Ethan grunted. “The local doc suspected drugs.”
“And?” Jackson Wilder’s tone shifted slightly. Considering the whole thing hinged on drug smuggling, he didn’t like what he was hearing. Grant hadn’t mentioned this.
“Well, Jon thinks it’s something else.”
Jackson arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“He thinks witchcraft was involved.”
Jackson stared at him and slowly sat back in his chair. “Witchcraft,” he said in a flat, disbelieving tone of voice.
“Yeah. Lilith Raven is the daughter of Jonah Ravenscraft.”
In a sudden blur of motion, Jackson Wilder shot to his feet. “What?”
Ethan cleared his throat and frowned. “What the hell did I just miss?”
“Ravenscraft is a dangerous man.”
“His daughter’s not much better.”
Wilder nodded absently, his indifference gone. “I was never aware of the connection. You’re certain?”
“Cathy told me.”
Jack gave him a sharp look. “How the hell would she know,” he snapped.
“She and Casi encountered Ravenscraft eight years ago.”
Jackson Wilder actually dropped into his chair, making the springs squeak. “My God, that was them?”
“What?”
Wilder managed a weak laugh. “I think the wrong siblings were recruited all those years ago.”
“That’s not even funny.”
Wilder grinned suddenly. “Lighten up, Ashworth. Don’t you know where your darling wife’s sister is?”
“Why don’t you tell me,” said Ethan, not sure what Jack thought was so funny.
“Let’s put it this way. No more than a few miles separate them. How’s that for fate?”
Ethan groaned. “Damned lousy, if you ask me.”
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.