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A Monster's Coming of Age Story

Page 35

by G. D. Falksen

Varanus stared into Alfonse’s eyes, watching them fill with panic and then slowly dim. She leaned down and whispered in his ear:

  “A touch.”

  Alfonse’s eyes flashed with horrible realization. A moment later, they went dim and his body was still. Varanus looked at Alfonse’s corpse, feeling a rush of warmth flow through her body. He was dead. The man who had insulted her, assaulted her, murdered her beloved, and presumed to regard her as his property was dead. And he had died by her hand. Varanus took a deep breath, feeling heady with elation and triumph.

  “No!” cried Louis, falling to his knees. “No! It cannot be!”

  “It is done,” said the voice. “The granddaughter of William Varanus has proven the stronger. Her will shall be carried out. It is The Law.”

  “It is The Law,” echoed the audience.

  Varanus stood and said, “Give me back my son.”

  “I will destroy you, you bitch!” Louis screamed, his face bright red behind the thick gray beard.

  “Alfonse des Louveteaux did not yield,” the voice said.

  They had not heard him, Varanus realized. Good.

  “He fought unto the death,” the voice continued, “as was his right. Blood has killed Blood according to The Law. The complaint has been answered.”

  “Give me back my son!” Varanus repeated, walking toward the figures in the darkness.

  “Release the pup,” the voice said.

  A pair of men in frock coats rushed down into the pit as if they were servants rather than gentlemen. One of them produced a knife, and they quickly freed Friedrich from his bonds. As the last of the ropes fell to the ground, the men took Friedrich by the arms to help him stand, but Friedrich shoved them off and stood of his own accord.

  “Get off of me, you swine,” he said. He turned to Varanus and rushed toward her. “Mother, are you all right? I saw—”

  Varanus embraced him tightly and whispered, “You saw nothing, Alistar.” She released him and turned toward the figures. “My son and I are leaving now. Do not try to stop us.”

  One of the figures motioned with its hand. For a moment it passed from the shadows into the light, revealing a hideous, long-fingered mass of muscle, fur, and claws.

  “Go,” rasped the voice. “You are free to leave.”

  “Come,” Varanus said to Friedrich.

  She took him by the hand and led him up out of the pit. The crowd parted as they began to move through it, the well-born gentlemen and ladies bowing to her like she was a queen. Strangely, several even tilted their heads to show her their throats. Varanus looked at them in bewilderment and hurried toward the exit.

  “My lords!” Louis cried. “I have a complaint! I demand retribution!”

  “The complaint has been answered,” the voice said. “You know The Law, Louis des Louveteaux. Your son was not heard to yield. He chose to die rather than submit. His death was noble. It brings honor to your line. But you cannot demand retribution for it.”

  Varanus quickened her pace even further, walking as fast as her short legs would allow. Louis would not let them leave if he could help it, and she had no intention of waiting around while he struggled to think of an excuse for their deaths.

  “Mother, what is going on?” Friedrich asked softly.

  Varanus clutched his hand tighter and said, “Hush. Just keep walking.”

  “Wait!” Louis shouted. “They cannot leave! They have not been initiated into our mysteries!”

  There was a short pause, and then the voice asked, “What?”

  “William never inducted her,” Louis said, “and she cannot have inducted her son. Blood or not, they are outsiders! They cannot leave now; they will divulge our secrets!”

  Damnit! Varanus thought. She slowly looked over her shoulder and saw the chorus of shining eyes turn toward her.

  “Wait,” the voice said, the command echoing throughout the chamber.

  “Run,” Varanus said to Friedrich.

  She bolted for the stairs leading to the surface, dragging Friedrich behind her. A man loomed out of the crowd, grabbing at her, and she knocked him away with a slap of her hand. Another appeared directly in her path, and she simply put her shoulder into him and ran him down.

  “Up the stairs!” she told Friedrich. “Ekaterine is waiting!”

  She grabbed her rifle from inside the doorway and turned back toward the chamber. Now it was all in an uproar. The initial surprise of their attempted escape was gone, and the crowd of gentry rushed at her, arms outstretched. She could not tell if they meant to capture her or do her violence, but she was not in the mood to find out. Behind them, she heard a chorus of voices from the darkness shouting for Varanus to be subdued and brought before them.

  Not bloody likely, she thought.

  Varanus turned and rushed up the stairs. She saw Friedrich above her, hesitating lest he lose sight of her in the tight spiral.

  “Run!” Varanus shouted. “Run!”

  She felt someone grab her arm from behind. She looked back and saw a woman dressed in an exquisite Worth gown, whose face was covered by a thin stubble of gray beard. The woman snarled and snorted at Varanus, pulling on her arm to drag her back into the depths.

  Varanus pulled her arm free and knocked the woman away with the butt of her rifle. The woman tumbled back into the crowd behind her.

  At least that would offer some delay. Varanus continued up the stairs as fast as her legs would allow. She heard gunfire near the top and bounded up the remaining steps. She saw Ekaterine and Friedrich in the doorway, firing into the hallway.

  “What is happening?” Varanus demanded.

  “We have been discovered,” Ekaterine said.

  An explosion sounded from the direction of the foyer, followed by the screams of men. Luka appeared in the doorway and nodded at Varanus. He had a lit pipe clenched between his teeth.

  “I have delayed the men from outside,” he said, taking a powder charge from his bandoleer and lighting the fuse. He threw it underhanded in the direction of the foyer. “We should depart out the back.”

  Another explosion sounded.

  “Good thinking, Luka,” Varanus said. “Bring up the rear, will you?”

  “Very good, Doctor,” Luka said.

  Varanus dashed into the hallway and ran for the back of the house. Ekaterine followed quickly, and Friedrich continued along behind her. Luka withdrew more slowly, throwing two more powder charges before switching to his firearm.

  Near the dining room, another group of men confronted them, weapons at the ready. Varanus fired at them with her rifle while Ekaterine and Friedrich ran for the cover of the dining room. Varanus took two bullets in the chest and ignored them as she shot the gunmen down one by one.

  How did the des Louveteaux have such an inexhaustible supply of men, she wondered. And where were they all coming from? Still, having seen that twilight pit and the teeming mass of unholy gentry…

  Luka ran to her side and shot the last gunman, dispelling her thoughts.

  “Hurry, Doctor,” he said.

  Varanus nodded and ducked into the dining room. She made for the doors at the far end and rushed out into another hall. They were near the back of the house now. It was only a matter of time before they found a window leading outside.

  She ducked her head into an adjacent room, some sort of study. Good God, the house was like a labyrinth! But this room was on the outer wall, and it had a pair of tall windows looking out onto the grounds.

  “This way!” Varanus cried.

  She ran across the room and smashed one of the windows with her rifle. She helped Ekaterine through first, then Friedrich, and then Luka. She looked back and saw another of the des Louveteaux’s men in the doorway. He stared at her for a moment and began firing with his pistol. Varanus dove through the window and out onto the lawn. There was shouting from the room as more men hurried in. They would start shooting from the windows in a moment. There was nowhere to run!

  “Luka!” Varanus shouted, pointing towa
rd the broken window.

  Luka needed no further explanation. He lit two powder charges and threw them in quick succession. They tumbled through the open window and exploded in a great thunderous blast, shattering the remaining window and filling the air with glass and splinters of wood. Varanus threw herself onto Friedrich, knocking him to the ground and shielding him with her body.

  She looked up again and pulled herself to her feet. She could see now that the house was on fire, both in the front and in the study where the latest explosion had gone off.

  She helped Friedrich stand up and brushed him off.

  “Yes, thank you, I am fine,” Friedrich said, protesting as she fussed over him.

  “Doctor, we must go,” Ekaterine said.

  “Yes,” Varanus said. “To the horses.”

  As they ran for the edge of the grounds, Varanus looked back at the burning house. For a moment she fancied that she saw a figure standing in one of the windows looking at her. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, working to make out details at such a distance. The figure was tall and broad, dressed in—could it be?—one of Grandfather’s expensive suits. The face was masked by shadow, but the profile was all too familiar.

  “Grandfather?” she whispered, unable to believe her eyes.

  The figure drew back into the darkness, leaving nothing but an empty window.

  Varanus shook herself. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Grandfather was dead, and now was not the time to think about the dead. The living needed her.

  She turned and followed the others in the direction of the horses as the House of des Louveteaux burned behind her.

  * * * *

  William turned away from the window. Babette and the boy had escaped. They would be safe. Now it was time to attend to Louis.

  He walked into the hallway and made for the underground passage. The house was filling with smoke and heat. Servants and Scions alike rushed about the place, trying desperately to fight the growing fire. William ignored them, and they all scurried out of his way as he passed.

  He entered the staircase and descended to the meeting chamber. A few gentlemen of the Scion order met him on the steps and tried to bar his passage, challenging him and demanding to know who he was. This was no surprise. None of the Scions had seen him since the change, and the smoke from the fire had overpowered his scent. He snarled and bared his teeth at them, and they quickly backed away, allowing him to pass.

  In the cavern he found the great multitude cowering, terrified by the smell of fire that had somehow managed to infiltrate even that deep place. How amusing, to see some of the most exalted masters of Europe huddling together like frightened animals.

  William ignored them and walked to the pit. He saw Louis at the bottom, kneeling on the ground and cradling his son in his lap. This intrigued William. Alfonse was dead? How could that have happened? Surely not by Babette’s or the boy’s hand. Neither of them could have possessed the strength to overpower him.

  “Who comes before us?” demanded the chief among the elders from its position above the pit.

  “I do,” William said. He stepped into the light and stood his full height. “I am William Varanus, and I demand satisfaction.”

  Louis looked up from his son’s corpse.

  “William?” he demanded. Louis rose slowly, staring up at him. “Impossible!”

  “Impossible?” William asked, laughing. “Do you think me incapable of feigning my own death without your assistance, Louis? I know that it is custom for our kind to assist one another in such intrigues, but that does not mean we cannot manage them ourselves.”

  “Why do you come before us, William?” asked the elder. “It has been some months since last we saw you, and now we see that you are soon to be one of us. We are intrigued.”

  “I have been detained by the circumstances of the change,” William said. “It has been made all the more difficult by the antagonism of the des Louveteaux house, which,” he added, “is the reason for my coming.”

  “Antagonism?” Louis cried. “Your great-grandson slew Gérard! And your granddaughter murdered my son!”

  So it had been Babette. William smiled a little. Incredible. How had she managed it? Unlike Alfonse, she was no soldier, and Alfonse had been gifted by greater size, strength, and the improvements of age. Even if Babette had begun to manifest the change, Alfonse had several years on her.

  What sorts of things has Babette been learning in Russia? William wondered.

  “Babette killed Alfonse?” William asked the elders.

  “She did,” the chief of the elders replied. “They faced one another in combat for the life of her son, and she prevailed. Alfonse never yielded even as he died. Great honor was done to both houses.”

  “This is a remarkable turn of events,” William said. He looked toward Louis. “It would seem Babette was not a runt after all.”

  Louis scowled back up at him.

  “She is not,” the elder said. “There can be no doubt that your granddaughter and her son are of the Blood.”

  “Blood or no Blood, they were not initiated,” Louis said. He pointed at William. “You did not bring them into the fold, and because of it, they have left with knowledge of our secrets! They may be our undoing because of you!”

  Impudent wretch!

  William snarled at Louis and dropped down into the pit, landing on all fours. He stood and approached Louis.

  “The affairs of my house are my affairs,” he said. “I and I alone have managed them well despite the fact that my son made any induction impossible while he lived. I had planned to bring Babette and her child into the order, but you interrupted my preparations. You, Louis des Louveteaux, who have meddled in the affairs of my house for years! You invaded my territory and kidnapped my great-grandson, bringing him among us before it was time. You revealed our secrets to them without my consent. It is you who have put our order in danger.”

  “How dare you!” Louis snarled, frothing at the mouth in anger. He looked to the elders for confirmation, but he was met with silence. “My lords?” he asked.

  William turned to the elders and said, “My lords, I must beg an indulgence.”

  “What would you ask of us, William Varanus?” asked the elder.

  “Louis des Louveteaux has meddled in the affairs of my house for decades,” William said. “He has offended my dignity, insulted my blood, and sought to murder my heirs. And all this I have borne in silence. But now, my lords, in his arrogance and disregard for my property, he has threatened to reveal our secrets to the uninitiated.”

  “Lies!” Louis shouted.

  “My lords,” William continued, “I ask for the life of Louis des Louveteaux as punishment for his crimes against my family, to be determined by a trial by combat, as is The Law.”

  “As is The Law,” repeated the assembled Scions, as they crowded around the edge of the pit.

  Louis looked at William, mouth agape in disbelief. He turned his eyes toward the elders as if expecting them to refuse the request.

  William knew better. He began removing his coat and tie. It felt so much better to be free of the suit’s confines. Soon he would no longer be able to wear his old clothes. It would be such a pity.

  “This is acceptable,” the elder said. “For too long there had been anger between your two houses. Let it be settled by combat to the death.”

  Louis stared at them in shock. Slowly he turned back to William and narrowed his eyes.

  “Come then,” he said, showing his teeth and removing his tie.

  William calmly removed his vest and shirt, breathing deeply as he was freed from the confines of clothing almost too small to be worn. He would require new clothes if he were to dress as a man in future. Perhaps one of the cultists was also a tailor.…

  A matter for another day, he thought. Vengeance first, fashion second.

  “I will not say that it has been a pleasure to know you, Louis,” he said, dropping onto all fours. “I have always considered it bad form t
o lie to one’s neighbors.”

  Louis roared in anger and rushed at him, clawed fingers outstretched.

  William opened his jaws and lunged for Louis’s throat.

  * * * *

  A week later, Varanus stood with her son on the railway platform in Rouen, beside the evening train bound for Paris. Ekaterine was at her side, and Luka stood nearby, watching over Friedrich’s luggage while simultaneously avoiding the familial conversation.

  Varanus stood on tiptoes and did her best to reach Friedrich’s collar so that she could adjust his tie. Friedrich made a face but did not stop her.

  “Now then, Alistair,” she said, “remember to get a good night’s rest in Paris before you leave for Germany.”

  “My name is Friedrich, Mother,” Friedrich reminded her, “and I promise to get plenty of sleep before my journey tomorrow.”

  Varanus wagged a finger at him and said, “Be certain not to spend all hours in some cabaret in Montmartre. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” Friedrich said.

  Varanus knew he was lying to her, but it made her feel better to hear him say it.

  “Remind him to eat well,” Ekaterine said playfully. “And not to speak to strange women.”

  “Do you mind?” Varanus asked her, sighing.

  But Ekaterine was right: she was fussing. Varanus folded her hands in front of her and smiled at Friedrich.

  “I am sorry Alistair—” she said.

  “Friedrich,” Friedrich said.

  “Yes, Friedrich.” Varanus shook her head. She would never become used to calling him by that name. “Have a good journey and don’t forget to write.”

  “I’ll make a point of it,” Friedrich said.

  “And remember,” Varanus said, “send me a letter from Paris first thing—” She caught herself. “Nevermind. Just write to me when you arrive back in Germany.”

  Friedrich smiled and kissed her cheek.

  “I promise, Mother,” he said. “And you’ll be fine here? You’re certain you don’t need me to stay?”

  Oh, if only he could.… But no, the des Louveteaux were not to be trusted, even with Alfonse and Louis out of the way.

  “I am quite certain,” Varanus said. “And since the police have finished questioning us all about the break-in, there seems no reason to trouble you with a prolonged stay in France. We shall be dealing with nothing but paperwork until our departure.”

 

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