Page 1 of Oak Do Hate


Oak Do Hate

  Kevin L. O'Brien

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  Text Copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien

  Cover design and typography copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien

  Chancery Bold font distributed under a free use license by Weatherly Systems, Inc.

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  License Notes

  Please consider writing a review for this book on the retailer's website.

  If you see any misspellings or typographical errors, please notify Kevin L. O'Brien using one of his online social networks. Thank you.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, including those based on the real world, are either products of the imagination of Kevin L. O'Brien or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Because some ebook platforms do not support special characters, certain words may appear misspelled, but this was done deliberately to avoid the problem of the platforms deleting the characters. Also, the LRF platform used by older models of the Sony Reader does not permit the use of links to external URLs, whereas the PDB platform used by Palm reading devices does not support any form of linking whatsoever. Finally, certain words use British instead of American spelling, to simulate the characters' English accents.

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  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Oak Do Hate

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kevin L. O'Brien

  Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien

  Sample Excerpts

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  Preface

  At the end of "Man Friday", Sir Differel Van Helsing had survived another attempt on her life and had secured the services of LCpl. Giles Holt as her Master-at-Arms, which placed him in charge of her security, training, and discipline. Unfortunately, her troubles didn't end there. As detailed in a forthcoming novella, members of Her Majesty's Government will place her on trial and force her to defend her birthright to be Director of the Caerleon Order and protector of Sovereign, Church and Country. Despite their eagerness to depose her, or even eliminate her, she will defend them against an attack by an army of monsters, and she will learn both the identity of her greatsword and how to control it. In the aftermath, HM Government will confirm her as Director (while placing a "regency committee" in actual charge of running the Order until she turns 21) and the Queen will grant her special dispensation to use the honorific "Sir".

  Even so, she still has much to learn, and while there are many things that her loyal servants--Aelfraed, her butler; Mrs. Widget, her housekeeper; Mr. Holt; and Vlad Drakulya--can teach her, there are more that she can only learn on her own.

  Such as relying on her own instincts, courage, and skills; or willingly facing paranormal threats with no help from anyone else; or even realizing that there can be many ways to neutralize a danger other than just destroying it.

  This story takes place in the autumn of 1988, just a few months after the events in "Feline Savior" and "Man Friday".

  Back to TOC

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  Elm, she do grieve;

  Oak, he do hate;

  Willow, he do walk

  If you travel late.

  -- old English rhyme

  Differel awoke with a start. She propped herself up on her side, turned on the lamp on the night table, and slipped on her glasses. Sitting up, she examined the room, but everything appeared normal. Her four-poster bed sat at the far end, close to the bathroom and the entrance to the nurse's room; on the opposite side, by the doors that led out into the corridor and the matriarch suite, was her study desk, a chifforobe and linen chest, and her toy chest and play table. No one was in the room, the doors were all shut, and nothing seemed out of place.

  But something had awakened her.

  She glanced at the clock; it was almost eleven. The day staff should have retired, and the night staff was not allowed to work in that wing of the family floor. So if it was a noise that had disturbed her, it must have been a loud one. Perhaps a gunshot, but she didn't hear any more, so it could not be an invasion. Besides, if that was the case the guard outside her door would have awakened her to take her to the shelter in the basement.

  She threw off the covers, jumped out of bed, and ran over to the intercom mounted beside the door to the corridor. It wasn't connected to the house system, but hardwired to an identical unit on the opposite side of the wall. She was just barely tall enough to reach it and she switched it on.

  "Hello? Is everything okay?"

  She waited for an answer, but all she heard was silence.

  "Is anyone there?"

  That was a stupid question, she thought. Even with Vlad around, there was supposed to be someone outside her door at all times. Maybe he couldn't hear her. If he was on the other side of the library he might be too far away, though at night, when it was quiet, her voice should carry pretty far.

  She opened the door an inch and peered out. The lights on the curved library wall were dim, but she could see the hall was empty. She pulled the door open more.

  "Hello?" She spoke in a normal tone, but she imagined it was loud enough to be heard all the way to the chapel on the opposite side of the house. "Hello! Can you hear me? Is anyone there?"

  No one appeared or replied.

  Something's wrong! She slammed the door shut and locked it down. She sprinted to the other three to seal them, then stood by her bed and put out a call.

  Vlad. No response came into her head; in fact, she couldn't feel him at all.

  Vlad! I need you! Come at once! Nothing happened, and there was still no response. She felt her temper flare.

  Idiot! Answer me! Report! Nothing but silence. Icy tendrils of fear crept up her nerves and through her gut.

  Vlad? Please don't play games. I really need you. I'm all alone, and I'm frightened. Please. Please! The only thing she heard was the beat of her own heart in her ears.

  She sat on the side of the bed as panic slowly paralyzed her.

  What am I to do? It had only been a couple of months since she had officially assumed control of the Caerleon Order. Her training had just begun; she wasn't ready to act on her own yet. She could get herself killed. That thought terrified her. She had been ready to accept death when her Aunt Mandy wanted to kill her, because there had been no hope of rescue, or so she had thought at the time. Now I'm supposed to have guards, a staff, a Vampire to protect me. Where are they? Why have they let me down?!

  A new thought broke through her fear.

  Did something happen to them? Are they in danger? If that was the case, she felt she had to help them if she could. They were her people, she was their Director; it was her responsibility.

  But how?

  She could think of only one answer: she had to get help. Somehow, from somewhere, and she decided that the best way to do that was to alert the authorities.

  Sir Edward Penbryn; he would know what to do. He wasn't just her godfather, he was the Privy Councilor who oversaw the operation of the Order. He was also the head of her Regency Committee, in charge of managing the Order until she turned twenty-one. She could contact him from the Director's office on the ground floor. He could dispatch troops to protect her.

  He might even come himself.

  She pushed herself to her feet and tried to calm her anxiety. She went over to her desk, where sat a base intercom station connected to the house system. She punched the button for a public address and heard the tone signaling an impending announcement. That was risky; if an enemy was still in the house, it would be alerted to her presence, but she had to take the chance. If anyone was still free they had to be warned.

  "Attention, all personnel. This is Sir Differel Van Helsing. I am declaring an emergen
cy. If anyone can hear me, respond immediately. I am in my bedroom. Repeat: I am declaring an emergency. If anyone can hear my voice, call me at the children's bedroom. Differel out."

  She nodded. If there was anyone still around, they should get in touch with her soon. If not, she would assume the worst.

  She opened the chifforobe and removed some clothes. It was the middle of September; the past few days had been warm, but the nights were getting chilly. She selected a heavy, long-sleeved shirt and skirt, along with a woolen sweater and leggings. She took off her pajamas, and as she put on her underwear she realized she would need a weapon, too. Vlad and Mr. Holt had trained her to shoot a pistol, and she was getting pretty good at it with all her practice, but she didn't have her own gun yet. She knew where she could get one, though: the armoury in the basement, in the security area.

  But first she had to alert Penbryn. After she dressed she slipped on a pair of boots and tied her hair behind her head, then went back to her desk. She glanced at the intercom station as she opened the middle drawer. No one had called her. She felt tempted to make another announcement, but decided against it; she was in enough danger as it was.

  Inside the drawer, above the pencil rail on the right side, was a closed box. She pressed her thumb down on the scanner and heard the catch snap open. The lid popped up as soon as she lifted her thumb, and inside was a security passcard. It wasn't secure enough to allow her access everywhere, but it would at least get her into the security block if it had been locked down. She removed it and slipped the lanyard over her head, before going back to the door to the matriarch suite. She unsealed it and opened it a crack to peer into the boudoir, and when she saw nothing she walked inside. The room wasn't furnished, and hadn't been for twelve years, not since her mother died.

  She went up to the door that exited into the corridor. It wasn't kept locked because there was no need to; the suite held nothing of value or any secrets. She opened it just enough to look out. From there she could see all the way up the grand hall past the library to the north stairwell. When she saw nothing, she crept out into the hall in a cautious manner. She headed for the stairwell, listening for any noise and trying to keep her imagination from running away with her. She paused at the top of the steps, but could neither see nor hear anything. She headed down as quietly as she could and got off on the ground floor. To her right a security gate blocked access into the administrative wing from the rest of the house. It was shut, but her passcard opened it. The guards were missing from their posts in the connecting corridors, and she didn't hear a hum of voices from the offices at the opposite end of the wing. She hurried up the hall to the Director's office. That door was also closed, but her passcard opened it as well.

  Despite having been confirmed as director, the regency committee appointed by the Privy Council held the real power, and as long as she was in training they ran the Order. She only went into the office when Aelfraed, who was in charge of her training, needed to show her something. As such, it had become a memorial to her father, being as his personal decorative touches had been left in place. She went around to the back of the desk. Made of solid oak, the huge antique