Divine Fantasy by Melanie Jackson Page B

But someone—several someones—took the vampires out shortly after he made his power play. They also sabotaged some of his clinics where he was doing genetic research down in South America.”
    Is this chilling you as you read it? It chilled me as I heard Ambrose say it. I think it was that combination of words:
death god, vampires
and
genetic research
.
    “Why?” I asked again. Maybe if I kept asking I’d eventually hear something useful or even understandable. “Why does he need another way to raise the dead? How is it that you can help?”
    Ambrose shrugged. It wasn’t a gesture of indifference but rather to show that he didn’t know where to begin.
    “As I understand it, magic limits the number of zombies he can raise and control at any one time. Even Saint Germain, powerful as he is, has limits on his psychic strength and how many balls he can juggle at once. If he had been able to establish vampiric mind-control—a sort of telepathic command system—he could have manipulated many more entities and even changed their instructionsby mental remote control. As it is, once he creates a zombie or ghoul and gives it instructions, the thing is on autopilot and Saint Germain has no way of altering its objectives should the situation change. They are also stupid. He could try to create people like me, I suppose, but he never has. I think he fears what the reaction of any thinking person might be. Or perhaps he doesn’t have the Dark Man’s secrets of resurrection.”
    I didn’t know what to say to this latest impossibility, so I opted for silence.
    “His clinics do a lot of work with cloning and DNA manipulation. Vampirism should have worked, but has apparently failed him for some reason. I think he wants the lycanthropy virus now. He wants to be the alpha werewolf of a new kind of pack and breed instinctive obedience into his ghouls who could serve as his generals. As it is, he has only marginal control over them when they are out of sight, and he may worry about them turning against him eventually. Ghouls are not inherently loyal, and they are just smart enough to plan a coup—as the Dark Man eventually learned. Of course, Saint Germain may just want the virus for himself, so he can become stronger and faster than he already is.”
    “And if he succeeds?” I asked reluctantly. On the bright side, I had stopped worrying about the crocodile. Ambrose’s suggestion was so much more terrifying by comparison that I couldn’t work up much fear of a giant reptile that could eat me.
    Ambrose shook his head. “Nothing he wants canbe good.” He exhaled loudly. “Damn it. We need somewhere private to go while I decide what to do. I hate the idea, but it may be time to try to contact others who know about this kind of thing and ask for help.”
    “The supernatural grapevine?” I asked, using his term.
    “Yes, there is such a thing, you know. I think all of us subscribe to
The Weekly Weird News
. You see some very strange ads there sometimes. I can put my own online ad in it from here, of course, but it would take time for people to see it and then react. Unfortunately, if Saint Germain has found this island then he has probably found my other retreats. I need a place where he would never think to look while I wait for some answers.”
    “I have a house in Maine.” The words were out without any pause for thought.
A
house, not
my
house. I owned it now, but it was really the place where my parents had lived for six weeks every summer. I’d sold the other properties in Sedona and Charleston a few years back since they had no memories for me, but I had kept the Bar Harbor house because on a few occasions I had been allowed to visit there and had liked being near my father.
    “In your name?” Those dark eyes were intent, distracting, and it took me a moment to follow his thoughts. Fear kept me from being too laggard, though, and I got what he was driving at.
    “No. The house is still in my parents’ names—even