Not Everything Dies

by John Patrick Kennedy

  “I know,” Ruxandra stepped into a patch of sunlight. She felt the heat of it at once through the cloth. “You made me a killer again.”

  “You were always a killer.” Elizabeth stepped into another patch of light, ten feet from her. “Just a pitiful one. You don’t have the nerve to murder.”

  “Hunger and threat.”

  Elizabeth’s head cocked to the side. “What?”

  “Wolves only kill for two reasons.” Ruxandra bent her knees. “Hunger and threat. And when you did that to me, when you said you would kill the girls if I didn’t obey you? That made you a threat.”

  She charged forward, talons out.

  Elizabeth was ready for her. The weighted tips of the scourge sliced the air, the metal whistling as it flew. Ruxandra ducked it, going for Elizabeth’s knees. Elizabeth spun the scourge once around her hand and sent it down hard. Ruxandra barely managed to roll out of the way.

  Elizabeth bore down on her, the scourge singing. Ruxandra scrabbled back and attacked again.

  Elizabeth spun out of the way, and Ruxandra felt a line of fire open up on her back. Elizabeth held up her knife, the blade dripping with Ruxandra’s blood. Ruxandra’s eyes narrowed. She circled Elizabeth, letting the cut heal as she looked for an opening.

  “I am a woman, holding land and power in a world full of men,” Elizabeth said. “My castles have been attacked by mercenaries, by bandits, and by the Turks. Did you think I would not know how to fight?”

  Ruxandra crouched, her hands coming down to touch the ground. Talons came out of her toes, cutting through the strips of cloth. Her legs tensed. Inside her, the Beast howled with glee.

  “Ever fight a bear?” Ruxandra asked. “Because I have.”

  She screamed louder than a dozen angry mountain lions, and leaped forward.

  The scourge lashed into Ruxandra’s face, ripping it open. The dagger stabbed hard into her belly and tore her flesh as Elizabeth sawed it across.

  Then the talons on Ruxandra’s hands sank into Elizabeth’s shoulders, digging deep into the flesh and hooking underneath her collarbones. Ruxandra’s feet slammed into her belly, the talons on her toes tearing through flesh and intestine and coming out of Elizabeth’s back.

  Elizabeth screamed and fell backward. Ruxandra’s feet impaled Elizabeth’s body, and she fell on top of her. Ruxandra let out a howl and began digging.

  Her hands moved in a blur. Cloth, flesh, muscle, and bone flew as she tore into Elizabeth’s chest like a badger tearing into the earth. Elizabeth swung the scourge and stabbed with the dagger, but Ruxandra ignored them both, as she had ignored the claws of the bear ripping her open as she drank its blood. She dug faster, tearing away Elizabeth’s breasts in bloody chunks. She ripped open the flesh of her neck and sent silver blood spraying everywhere. Elizabeth’s head lolled back, only her spine holding it in place. Her arms lost their strength and fell to the sides. Still, Ruxandra tore at her flesh, eviscerating the woman.

  A blur of screaming, sticky, burned flesh slammed into Ruxandra from the side, sending them both flying.

  Ruxandra spun in the air, grabbing at Dorotyas with her talons. Dorotyas’s own talons descended, and the two tore at each other like animals. They screamed in fury and pain as they ripped flesh from each other’s faces. Dorotyas shifted, using her weight to straddle Ruxandra.

  In the moment before Dorotyas’s fists started raining down, Ruxandra saw Kade sprinting toward Elizabeth’s flopping, bleeding body.

  Then the world became a blur of fists and pain as Dorotyas pounded her hands down on top of Ruxandra’s face. Ruxandra bucked her hips and twisted, sending Dorotyas to the floor beside her. She used her legs to push away and scrambled to her feet.

  Kade was sucking the blood from the gaping wound on Elizabeth’s belly. Elizabeth moaned in pain and pleasure. Ruxandra retreated, talons still out. She felt the rips in her cloak and the dangling strips of cloth, exposing her bare flesh. Even so, she dashed backward through a ray of sunshine, accepting the agony of the burned flesh in exchange for distance between herself and Dorotyas.

  Dorotyas stood between her and Elizabeth, and for the first time, Ruxandra got a good look at her.

  The flesh was gone from her face, leaving burned muscle and bone, sticky with silver blood and white pus. Her hair was a short, blackened mess. Even so, she stood between Ruxandra and Elizabeth, eyes narrow and talons out.

  Ruxandra glanced behind her. The six knight commanders still blocked the entrance.

  I need better coverage if I’m going back out into the sun.

  Then Kade started screaming.

  The gem on Ruxandra’s neck shattered, the chain breaking and falling to the ground. She dashed to the wall, grabbed a tapestry, and ripped it down.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Dorotyas demanded. Pain and anger twisted her voice, making it deeper and raspier. “Do you think you’ll get by them before I kill you?”

  “You can’t kill me without dragging me back into the sunlight and burning with me.” Ruxandra said. “And I’m not going to get by them. He is.”

  Dorotyas turned and saw Kade lying on the ground beside Elizabeth. “What did he—”

  Kade snarled and leaped to his feet. Ruxandra stepped aside and watched him charge the only sources of human blood in sight. Dorotyas tried to grab him, but Kade bulled through with the power of his hunger. The knight commanders raised their swords.

  Kade smashed into them and began to feed.

  Ruxandra wrapped her body in the cloak and ran for the door. The knight commanders, fighting for their lives, didn’t notice her.

  “Ruxandra!” Elizabeth’s pain-racked voice filled the hall. “No!”

  Ruxandra kept going, into the sunlight, across the courtyard, and out the gates.

  She didn’t look back.

  THEY CAUGHT UP TO her two months later, in Budapest.

  She had a new dress and cloak, and new waterproof boots bought with money from a man who had threatened to sell her into slavery. She was sitting in one of the better taverns, near the window, enjoying the warmth of the fire and their mulled wine. Spring was still far away, and while the cold could not hurt her, there was something comforting about being inside and warm when there was snow on the ground.

  She sensed them before she saw them.

  Ruxandra put her wine glass down on the table, dropped a few coins beside the glass, and stepped out of the tavern into the cold February air.

  The three stood across the street.

  Elizabeth wore a long white cloak and dress. Kade had exchanged his gray robes for the long furred cape and heavy blue wool robes of a successful merchant. Dorotyas wore the plain brown clothes of a wealthy woman’s servant. All three watched her as she stepped into the street.

  Ruxandra stopped in the middle of the street, waiting.

  Elizabeth picked up the hems of her skirt and cloak and walked forward. Kade and Dorotyas stayed where they were.

  “No closer,” Ruxandra said when Elizabeth was ten feet away. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I wanted to see you, my dear,” Elizabeth said. “Why else?”

  “I am not your dear, Elizabeth. Go away.”

  “We are traveling,” Kade said. “We’re going to Italy.”

  Ruxandra looked past Elizabeth to him. “Where in Italy?”

  “Rome,” Elizabeth said.

  “Then I’ll be sure not to visit.”

  “Ruxandra—”

  “Leave me alone, Elizabeth. I have no desire to—”

  “I am sorry.”

  The words were enough to make Ruxandra pause.

  “I drove you away,” Elizabeth said. “I forced you into a place where you had no choice but to fight.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Forgive me. I was new to this life and blind to the possibilities. I thought only of holding onto what I possessed. I didn’t consider what could be mine if I left my old world behind.”

  “Is that all you care about
? What can be yours?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Without power, there is nothing.”

  “Come with us,” Kade said. “Come to Rome and see the eternal city. You don’t have to stay if you don’t wish, but travel with us, for a while at least.”

  “Why in the name of God would I do that?” Ruxandra asked.

  “Because we are the only ones of our kind,” Elizabeth said.

  “Because together we can do more, see more, and be more than the world has ever known,” Kade said.

  Elizabeth took a step forward. “Because I love you.”

  The laugh that barked out of Ruxandra’s mouth was short and sharp. Elizabeth didn’t react.

  “Ruxandra—” Kade began.

  Ruxandra stepped back. “I haven’t forgiven you, Kade, for keeping me there. I haven’t forgiven any of you for what you did. Not for the way you tortured the girls, not for your cruelty or the beatings or the way you manipulated me.”

  “Can you forgive me?” asked Elizabeth. “Eventually?”

  Ruxandra shook her head. “No.”

  “Please—” Elizabeth started, but Kade caught her arm.

  “We have all the time in the world,” he said. “Ruxandra will come around.”

  “I will not.”

  Kade smiled at her. “I’ll ask you again in a hundred years.”

  Ruxandra turned and walked away without looking back.

  Pisa 1730

  Ruxandra strutted across the piazza, sword at her side, wide-brimmed hat on her head. The style for men called for tight trousers, and Ruxandra wore them with style.

  Here in Pisa, she had become Renaldo, a swaggering young man with money to spare and an easy laugh. She drank her nights away with the bored, wealthy young men of the city and hunted killers and thieves in the alleyways.

  An arrogant, selfish rooster of a man named Giaconda had insulted her the night before. He was known for fighting, often over women, none of whom wanted him and most of whom he took anyway. Ruxandra had agreed to meet him for a duel before dawn in two days and then followed him back to his house. Tonight, she planned to lie in wait for him when he came home, and after that, he would not challenge anyone again.

  She was nearly at his house when she realized she was being followed.

  She didn’t see her pursuer, but heard the footsteps matching her pace and direction. She kept walking, changing direction twice to be sure she was being followed. The footsteps stayed with her. She sniffed the air but her pursuer was upwind and she couldn’t catch the scent. Ruxandra willed herself unnoticed and stopped, waiting.

  Her pursuer stopped, too.

  Is he following my footsteps?

  Ruxandra frowned. She started walking in the direction of the footsteps. They retreated before her, changing directions and staying out of sight. Ruxandra growled under her breath and picked up her pace. The other one did the same.

  You want o play hunter? Fine. Ruxandra leaned against a wall and took off her tall boots. She looked up, picked a building and jumped. She landed on the tile roof, her feet hitting with barely a sound. Her sword hit the tiles with a clatter.

  Porca troia. She undid the sword belt, jumped two more roofs until she reached a terrace, and left the boots and sword along with her jacket and cape. Now, wearing only her tight breeches and shirt, she jumped back down to the street.

  Now, let’s see who is hunting who.

  Instead of speeding up again, she slowed down. Her feet made no sound at all on the cobblestones of the streets. She heard the running footsteps slow down to a walk and then stop. She slipped silently through the streets, circling her pursuer until she was downwind of him.

  She sniffed the air again and stopped dead, her mouth hanging open.

  Here? Now?

  She started moving again, hugging the buildings and stalking her pursuer like a deer in the woods. He took a few steps, stopped, changed directions and started again. Ruxandra matched her footsteps to his and stretched out her stride, closing the distance between them. Her pursuer stopped moving. Ruxandra sped up her pace.

  She came around the corner and there he was. He wore a short cloak, with tall boots and tight trousers and a brocaded black jacket. He had a sword at his side and a smile on his face.

  “I should have known better than to try to follow you,” Kade said. “It’s good to see you, Ruxandra.”

  Ruxandra’s talons came out. “Where’s Elizabeth? And Dorotyas?”

  “Spain, last I heard, helping the Inquisition ensure young ladies are on the proper moral path.”

  “Of course she is.” Ruxandra didn’t pull in her talons. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I have learned a great deal in the last hundred years. And I wanted to share it with you.”

  “Why?” Ruxandra kept her tone harsh to hide her curiosity.

  Kade ignored the question. “There are sorcerers and alchemists in Russia with books and knowledge that the inquisition has purged from Europe.”

  Ruxandra frowned. “What sort of knowledge?”

  “Do you not wonder about the one who created you? Do you now wonder why she did it? Would you not like to ask her?”

  “She was a fallen angel,” Ruxandra said. “You can’t ask her anything unless you plan to go to Hell and talk to her.”

  Kade’s smile grew wide. “Or if we summon her.”

  “What?”

  He held out his hand. “Come to Moscow with me, Ruxandra. Together we will bring the fallen angel into this world and ask her our purpose on this earth.”

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed Not Everything Dies. It was my honor and pleasure to write for you. Of course I was only relaying the information that my Ruxandra was providing, but I hope I did so with clarity and wonder. Thanks for joining me on this fun and wild ride!

  Get ready for many more adventures.

  Also, if you’re so inclined, I’d love a review of Not Everything Dies. Without your support, and feedback my books would be lost under an avalanche of other books. While appreciated, there’s only so much praise one can take seriously from family and friends. If you have the time, please visit my author page on both Amazon.com and goodreads.com.

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