Chapter Thirty-Four
“There she is.”
Coragan looked up from his mug of ale and followed the rogue’s extended finger. They had spent the last two nights waiting in this tavern, at the same secluded table, in the same secretive position, hoping that Clarissa would appear. Each night had been fruitless, however. Whatever Clarissa had been doing the last few evenings apparently had nothing to do with The Roaring Lion or any of its patrons. Tonight, though, their long hours of tedium had finally paid off.
The vampire they sought stood framed by the doorway of the tavern. After a moment, she strolled inside.
Coragan hastily motioned Galladrin’s hand down, lest his pointing finger attract undue notice. Then, the bounty hunter scrunched down on the table, doing his best to obscure his features behind the half-filled mug of ale he held.
In the chair beside him, Galladrin started to rise. “Come on. Let’s get her.”
“Not here,” Coragan said, motioning Galladrin to return to his seat. “There’s too many people.”
The rogue thumped back into his chair. “What, then?”
“Wait.”
The vampire glided across the room, seemingly at ease amongst the laughing patrons engaged in revelry. She paused near the bar to glance around the tavern, then pulled up a stool and ordered a drink.
Galladrin let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Great, our vampire’s a drunkard. Maybe she’ll pass out and be an easy kill.”
Coragan looked over at the rogue, then smiled wryly. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. She’s just taking her time ... she’s up to something.”
Galladrin leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, she’s going to kill someone.”
Clarissa glanced at the mug the barkeep handed to her, and offered an alluring smile in greeting. She reached to her side, then suddenly looked down in apparent confusion.
“What’s she doing?” Galladrin leaned forward, peering intently at the scene.
“It looks like ... she’s trying to explain to the barkeep why she doesn’t have any money.” Coragan downed the rest of his ale, then gently placed his mug on the table. He looked to Galladrin. “Come on, I don’t like the looks of this. Let’s start wandering over ... but be casual.”
Galladrin shot the bounty hunter an irritated frown. “I’m a thief, remember, I know what I’m doing.”
The two men stood and moved off separately through the crowd, winding through the mass of people like hunters in stalk of their prey. Coragan groped for the hilt of the silver dagger at his side and traced his finger across the pommel for reassurance. It felt smooth and cool to his touch. At least they’d be able to hurt her this time—not like the battle in the castle. They had been lucky to escape from that fiasco alive. Coragan felt his heart beginning to race and he forced himself to wander casually toward the door in hopes of blocking the entrance. Halfway there, he realized how foolish he was being.
Clarissa was a vampire. Now that she was inside, door or window would make very little difference to her; and there was no way he could keep her from all the possible exits. He caught Galladrin’s eye in the crowd, then motioned for him to hold up and stay ready. The rogue quickly engaged himself in a polite conversation with a young woman who had been walking by. A dangerous move, my friend, Coragan thought, looking toward Clarissa perhaps a dozen paces from the pair. If she recognized his voice ...
Clarissa, however, was engaged in a conversation of her own, and did not seem to notice. One of the men who had been sitting next to her started pushing several coins toward the disgruntled barkeep. After briefly studying the coins, the barkeep swept them up into his outstretched hand. So she got some ‘gentleman’ to pay for her ale ... that’s just great. Poor fool.
The gentleman in question, however, was all smiles. Clarissa shook her golden mane and let out a startled laugh of pleasure at some joke the young gentleman made. The man, well-dressed with long dark hair—perhaps a merchant’s son—raised his mug in toast. Clarissa answered by lifting her own mug, and the man spoke a few inaudible words. The mugs clanged together then rose swiftly to thirsty lips. Clarissa, however, lowered hers after but a moment. She might be thirsty, but not for ale.
“Hey, buddy. Are you going to stand in my way all night or am I going to have to beat you to the ground?”
Coragan glanced at the man who had spoken to him, an unkempt ruffian with snarly hair, rotting teeth, and an obnoxious personal odor which seemed to open a path before him in the crowd. The bounty hunter looked about noticing the open space around himself, then frowned at the scraggly looking stranger. As a man looking for trouble, the stranger did not look particularly intimidating. In fact, the most frightening thing about the ruffian was his noisome breath.
Unfortunately, Coragan did not have the time to make a point of the stranger’s hygiene, or lack thereof. Clarissa could move at any moment, and he had to be ready. This man had to be dealt with quickly and efficiently.
Controlling the sudden urge to gag, the bounty hunter smiled broadly at the stranger as if greeting a long lost friend. The man started in surprise at the odd reaction, giving Coragan his chance. Without hesitating, Coragan lunged forward and drove his knee upward into the stranger’s groin. Within a heartbeat he shoved the man backward through the swinging door and stepped outside to follow with sword in hand. Granted, pulling his weapon seemed a little extreme, but he did not wish to leave anything to chance. The open threat should be sufficient to drive the man away without any further violence.
The stranger scrambled up from the dirt, enraged. He paused when he saw the sword, then drew a wicked-looking dagger with a curving blade. He eyed the bounty hunter with caution, and stepped forward into a fighter’s stance.
Coragan’s jaw fell open in surprise. “My friend, I have a sword. You have a knife. Basically, that mean’s you lose.”
The man did not seem to care; he advanced flipping his weapon effortlessly around in his hand. “We’ll see about that.”
“Go home. I don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.”
The man lunged forward slashing with his knife. Coragan parried the man’s wrist with the flat of his blade, then added a wicked twist to slice the flesh across the stranger’s forearm. The ruffian winced in pain and took a cautious step back.
“Next time, I’ll take your whole arm off. Now get out of my face.”
The man nodded, dropped his arm to the side, then turned as if to leave.
Easy enough, Coragan thought, then rounded on the door. He barely noticed the strange, almost maniacal glint in the stranger’s eye. It took a moment to register, but once it did, Coragan dove to the side and rolled back to his feet. The dagger the man hurled whipped past his face and sank into the outside wall of the tavern.
Rage overcame reason, and the weaponless stranger launched himself at Coragan. This time, however, the bounty hunter had lost all patience. The flat of his sword cracked against the man’s temple and he dropped like a stone. There were no more words or threats, just a sudden stillness as the man crumpled to the earth. Coragan nudged the comatose body once with his toe, then finally turned to step back inside the tavern.
His rapidly darting eyes shot toward the bar only to come up empty. Clarissa and the man she drank with were gone. Growing more anxious by the moment, the bounty hunter desperately looked around for Galladrin, but the rogue, too, had vanished.
Cursing to himself, Coragan shouldered his way to the barkeep and flagged him down. He grabbed the startled man’s arm, and pulled him forward. “Where’s the woman that was just here?” he hissed. “The one with the blond hair who couldn’t pay?” Galladrin was just arrogant and foolish enough to try to tackle Clarissa alone. The rogue might be adept with his rapier, but he was no match for that woman. By the Sickle, hadn’t he noticed when she wrestled Borak to the ground?
The barkeep pointed upwards to a wooden balcony and a line of doors.
“Which blood
y room?”
“Room four, I think.”
Coragan released the barkeep and started for the steps. Unfortunately, a large crowd of people had gathered in a tight mass before the staircase blocking his way.
A hiss of frustration ripped from Coragan’s lips causing a nearby stranger to jerk to attention and give the bounty hunter a wary stare. He didn’t have time for this—any of it—Clarissa could be sinking her teeth into the rogue’s neck while he wasted precious minutes down here. His friend could be gasping his final breath right now.
In desperation, Coragan yelled and raised his sword high in his right hand. Howling as loudly and as maniacally as he could, the bounty hunter charged. A stunned moment of sudden silence followed, then the mass of people scattered before him in all directions. With remarkable alacrity, the staircase opened wide before the bounty hunter, and frantic patrons began stumbling over each other in their attempts to get out of his way.
His path cleared, the bounty hunter started up the stairs taking three steps at a time. Behind him, a shout rose and utter chaos threatened to break loose. Men and women started scurrying about the room in a panic, and several voices started yelling for the town guard. Ahead of him, Coragan could see the line of doors set up on the left hand side of the balcony: one, two, three—
Door number four exploded.
Flailing wildly, Galladrin’s body hurtled backward through the doorway to smash into the balcony rail. The railing cracked and gave way, and the rogue’s feet skittered past the edge to dangle dangerously over the side. In desperation, Galladrin groped for several intact balusters to provide him with support while shafts of broken wood and pieces of railing tumbled past the precipice into the chaos below. They rained down into the tavern room spreading more confusion, more mayhem.
Coragan sheathed his sword, dropped to one knee, and pulled up his crossbow. He drew a silver-tipped quarrel from his quiver and loaded it into the weapon. Only a vampire could hurl a man through a doorway like that. And only a vampire could bring that look of terror to Galladrin’s eyes.
Sure enough, Clarissa strode onto the balcony with blood dripping from her claw-like hands and crimson foam from her snarling mouth. “Well, milord, I believe it is time for our romance to end. The Scythe-Bearer has marked your soul for his sickle tonight.”
Galladrin, draped precariously over the ledge of the balcony, vainly struggled to pull himself up and regain his feet. He groaned, not even bothering to give one of his characteristic rejoinders.
Coragan took aim and fired as Clarissa advanced. The silver-tipped quarrel ripped through the air like a bolt of lightning, hissing as it went. As the silver metal struck undead flesh it flared to life, sparking a brilliant tongue of blue flame upon the creature’s pallid skin. A violent scream erupted from Clarissa’s mouth forcing Coragan’s hands to his ears. Gripping her injured shoulder, the vampire whirled, scanning the hall for her unseen foe.
The bounty hunter drew his silver sword and rose to face her. They exchanged looks, each with eyes set in determination.
Clarissa glanced from bounty hunter to rogue, then back to Coragan. She contorted her lips and sneered. “You can wait your turn,” she said. Without further warning, she lunged toward the rogue just as he recovered his feet. Tumbling to the side, Galladrin rolled across the balcony and sprang up from the floor. A pace and a half away, Clarissa’s clawed hands came down across the remains of the balcony railing. Wood shattered and cracked, and splinters scattered in a vast cloud of destruction.
A hand grabbed Coragan’s shoulder. “What the Hell is going on here? Who do you—”
A quick glance told the bounty hunter he was being accosted by one of the tavern’s hired hands: a bouncer, hired to keep order at the inn. He had come up the stairs to find the source of the sudden commotion. Seeing Coragan with his blade drawn had provided an obvious target for accusations. Now, however, his questing eyes had caught sight of Clarissa. With all the blood running from her mouth and hands, the animalistic glint in her eye, and the all-too-apparent jutting canine teeth, it would be impossible to mistake her for an innocent bystander. Indeed, it would be impossible to mistake her for human.
The tavern guard stared, transfixed by the grisly scene, then shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “You, sir, drop your weapon and get down below.” He obviously meant Coragan, but the bounty hunter paid no heed. Suddenly, the man’s voice rose to a near shout. “You there.” He took two steps forward and puffed out his chest in challenge. Clarissa looked at him, arched an eyebrow, then slowly licked her lips like a ravenous reptile. The man’s voice trailed off in horror, and even Coragan found his stomach getting queasy. Clarissa pulled her lips back in a vicious snarl and the mortified tavern guard drew his sword.
Coragan shouldered past the man with his own glittering weapon raised. Behind the vampire, Galladrin drew his rapier and circled slowly in from the rear. The bounty hunter spoke. “Give it up, Clarissa. You’re surrounded.”
Across the balcony, Galladrin chuckled morbidly. “Sure, Coragan. Reason with her.”
Coragan frowned. Then the vampire moved.
She hurtled at him as if loosed from a sling, howling with inarticulate fury and covering the short distance faster than he would have thought possible. Vicious claw-like fingernails raked painful furrows across his arms and chest while canine teeth lunged for his throat forcing the bounty hunter to stumble back. A sharp pain seared across the skin of his throat and Coragan fell to the floor. Fear began to seize him. He had lost his balance, he had lost control. Another moment and he might be ...
Growing more frantic with each passing second, Coragan slashed out with his sword. The silver weapon raked across the woman’s abdomen, making a jagged gash and lighting fire to her gown. A small cloud of smoke wafted slowly toward the ceiling and Clarissa recoiled, screaming.
Beside Coragan, the tavern guard entered the fray. He lunged forward thrusting at the woman’s heart with his blade. Whether by skill of the guardsman or apathy of the vampire, the steel blade struck its mark. Sword, hilt, and wrist passed through Clarissa with ease and the tip of the weapon lodged in the wall behind. For a moment, the startled man could only stare at the ineffectual weapon that pierced his foe, then Clarissa’s backhand sent him tumbling toward the stairs.
Coragan scrambled to his feet, wiping the front of his throat. It was a shallow wound, but it had drawn blood. If she had reached forward an inch further, she would have snared both teeth in the apple of his throat and he would very likely be dead. As it was, his hand came away half-covered with crimson fluid.
The bounty hunter circled to the vampire’s right, poised, ready, and cautious. Clutching her stomach, Clarissa watched him carefully as he moved then licked her lips once again. Slowly, she began to advance. To Coragan’s relief, he heard Galladrin shuffle up on his left; he would not have to face her alone. There was a flash of motion and a small dagger made of silver hurtled toward the woman.
With cat-like reflexes, Clarissa struck out with her hand and knocked the small blade from the air. She recoiled sharply, licking her fingers, but the weapon tumbled to the side. “Silver? Are all your blades made of that substance?” She looked from man to man, as if expecting an answer. Slowly, she nodded. “Lucian warned me of that accursed metal. I had not thought you resourceful enough to come up with such weapons so quickly. After that fiasco with the wolves, I should have known better.”
“That you should have,” Coragan replied, advancing.
Clarissa sneered, and playfully danced toward the bounty hunter’s flank. “You are a typical man, Coragan of Esperia—yes, I have heard of you. You are arrogant and foolish, and deliciously hot of blood.” Her gaze flickered to include Galladrin. “By now, mortals, it should be obvious that even with your silvered blades your battle is hopeless. Surrender willingly and I can promise you the rich rewards of immortal pleasures. Resist, and you will die more slowly and more horribly than you could possibly imagine.”
“She seems to think her type of immortality is a good thing,” Galladrin said.
Coragan readied his sword. “You go right, I’ll go left.”
Galladrin leveled his rapier at the vampire before him and circled carefully to the right. She moved fast. Incredibly fast. But he was ready with muscles taut, itching to strike if she came too near.
She had to be destroyed; there was no other way to save his soul. Whatever arguments Borak had made, he felt a part of himself touching her, yielding to her. Blood had passed between them, and through it their souls were intermingling. She was a shadow of a presence at the back of his mind; still weak, but slowly growing stronger. Every look of those eyes, every smile of those crimson stained lips, sent shudders through his body. He felt a dull ache inside his chest, a longing to please her he could not understand. A strange desire grew within, to kneel before her, to offer himself over, and become her slave.
Galladrin reached behind his back to grasp the haft of a length of wood. He pulled it out, watching Clarissa’s eyes dart to the sharpened point. She glowered at him; she wasn’t about to let him come at her with that.
But she was wounded. Perhaps enough to slow her down. If he could get past her guard ... if he could get in one solid thrust with the stake, she’d be finished.
Behind the vampire Coragan had circled in to attack. He moved forward swinging his sword in a deadly arc; but she saw, or heard, it coming. Ducking down beneath the blow, Clarissa twisted around and came up beneath the bounty hunter. Her clawed hands raked across his ribs and her snapping teeth sank into the flesh of his sword arm. With a cry, Coragan dropped his sword clattering to the floor.
By the Sickle! Galladrin thought. Now Coragan’s been bit, too. He moved forward to intervene, but Clarissa forced the bounty hunter back and away, then whirled to face the second threat. She circled to Galladrin’s right, claws and teeth dripping blood and eyes flicking upward to lock with his. The rogue ground his teeth. He faced a vampire with the instincts of a trained warrior; and an exceptionally skilled one at that. Even if she had been human, he would have been wary.
Rather than advance, Galladrin continued to circle until he managed to maneuver himself in front of the injured bounty hunter. Coragan let out a soft moan, followed by a grunt. Galladrin heard the man stumble to his feet, then heard the sound of the silver sword being lifted from the floor. Good. He had retrieved his weapon.
Clarissa’s eyes seemed to reach forward into Galladrin’s soul. Her face lit up with a seductive warmth. “Come, my love. Drop your foolish weapons and bring yourself to my side.” The presence in Galladrin’s mind reared up, echoing the thought. He could feel her reaching toward him, groping across the distance with invisible fingers to bend his will.
Instinctively, he tensed, struggling to fight back. He had felt this sensation before. Lucian had tried the same thing on him, but with a great deal more strength. He could hold her off; but it made for a considerable distraction. Suddenly, he had a delightfully sneaky idea, something worthy of a rogue.
Galladrin lowered both his arms to his sides, shook his head, then let Clarissa’s mental presence slide within. He purposely gave some ground, then locked her out. She was as new at this as he was; perhaps he could trick her.
He took a halting step forward. Then another. Slowly, he started to close the distance to her while staring listlessly at the woman.
She started at his sudden acquiescence. Damn, Galladrin thought, she’s surprised I ‘succumbed.’
Clarissa eyed him, almost suspiciously, then said, “Come forward, slave. Kneel at my feet.”
Galladrin took two more steps toward her. Behind him, he heard Coragan curse, then begin moving forward to intercept him. The rogue started to kneel, crouching down on a single knee; then, without warning, he lunged forward with rapier and stake. He struck out simultaneously with each just as Coragan had shown him.
She was prepared for something tricky, but not for that. The hand with the wooden stake she grabbed, and slammed point first into the tavern wall amidst a shower of splinters. The rapier, however, she never parried. It drove into her chest just inches from her heart, piercing her torso from front to back. Any man, any beast, any thing that lived and breathed would have died from such a wound. Lungs should have filled with blood, arteries should have ruptured. She should have collapsed on the ground to convulse in her final throes. But she didn’t. Pain and agony were clear on the vampire’s face, but behind them raged fury, and an undead hatred that simply refused to die.
With a single motion Clarissa’s hand swept up under the rogue’s chin and lifted him off his feet. Galladrin slammed into the wall, jarring his teeth and skull. Undaunted, the rogue struggled to pull back the rapier and strike again. He would kill this thing if it was the last thing he did.
Clarissa let go of Galladrin’s chin and swiped at his arm. Clasped in the rogue’s hand, the rapier whipped from the vampire’s body and hurtled uncontrollably through the air. Galladrin could only watch in dismay as his silver weapon tumbled down the stairs. Then the woman backhanded him into the wall again.
The rogue groaned and the bounty hunter charged. With the speed of a demon, Clarissa ducked to the side of Coragan’s thrusting sword, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and catapulted him down the corridor. He tumbled face first along the balcony, rolling over and over, until finally coming to rest by the railing.
Clarissa turned to Galladrin and pressed him gently back against the wall. He could feel the cool touch of her hand on his chest, and the hot breath that splashed across the muscles of his neck. “Time to die, my lord.” Dazed and winded, the rogue could not reply; he could only stare in complete shock and terror as the vampire leaned toward him.
Sharp canine teeth sank painfully into the flesh of Galladrin’s neck. Clawed hands reached around the rogue’s shoulders and pulled his body forward. Like a lover being drawn to an ecstatic embrace, Galladrin felt himself being engulfed by her presence, consumed by her lust. She surrounded him, permeating his breath and clouding his soul. Still conscious, the rogue could feel the sharp points of the vampire’s teeth wedge into his flesh. He could feel the cold, dead lips pressing against him and the warm blood being slowly drawn from his body.
Galladrin felt unconsciousness rising to take him, swelling toward him like a black, numbing cloak. Refusing to yield, he clung to his senses by focusing on the pain. He groped to the side with his left hand to gain leverage, then reached out with his right hand to shove the vampire from him. The fingers of his right hand wrapped around the front of the woman’s gown, but she stood as immovable as a mountain of stone. She grabbed his wrist and slammed it painfully against the wall. Useless. She was too strong. He could see over her shoulder at the backside of the wound his rapier had caused. Ever so slowly, the wound began to close. As she fed, she drew strength from him to heal her own injuries. How could he ever hope to kill this creature?
Only a half dozen paces away, Coragan finally regained his feet and now stood in horror as the thing from nightmare fed. Galladrin could see the fear in his friend’s eyes, the shocked horror of disbelief that the rogue was about to die.
Galladrin’s groping left fingers brushed against a haft of wood, then closed around it. He almost sighed in relief when he realized what he had found; the wooden stake that Clarissa had knocked from his hand and embedded in the boarding of the wall. His fingers wrapped around its splintered grip, driving thin pieces of wood into the flesh of his palm. Ignoring the pain, he pulled. With the slowness of a dream, the stake of wood came free.
He turned the wooden shaft over, reached behind the woman, then pointed it inward at her back. Intent on her feeding, the vampire never noticed. With a desperate grunt of pained determination, Galladrin pulled the stake inward with all his strength.
There was a sickly squishing sound, then Clarissa pulled away from his neck with an inhuman scream. Her arms flailed wildly behind her and her body arched in desperation as she tried to reach the stake.
Sagging toward the floor, Galladrin tried to keep his wits and remain on his feet, but the black tides of unconsciousness proved stronger. His last fleeting vision was one of Coragan running up behind the vampire. The bounty hunter hurled himself at the woman with both his hands extended before him. His outstretched fingers caught the stake and shoved it forward. It drove through.
Galladrin saw the point exit on the other side. It came out between her breasts, accompanied by a fountain of rushing blood. Clarissa unleashed another scream: one final, incomprehensible shriek of a dying monster’s fury. After that, there was only darkness.
Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 67