Men and Monsters (Nightfall, Book 2)

by Elena May

  “Of course I did. This is what vampires do, and it was shortsighted of the Resistance not to predict that. I wandered across the ceiling of the entire hideout for a while until I found Tristan’s cell. I shared my strength with him, picked his locks, and then we left this place the same way that I had come.”

  “Shared your strength with him?” Sissi asked.

  Myra rolled her eyes and turned back to look at Sissi. “It’s a euphemism for letting another vampire drink your blood.”

  Sissi’s eyes widened, and she paled, but the Prince grinned.

  “Myra, dearest,” he said. “It is called ‘a euphemism’ if you replace something that sounds crass and ugly with something that sounds nicer. In what way does sharing your blood with someone sound crass and ugly?”

  “Apart from in every—” A screeching sound interrupted her, and Myra looked outside. The rocks flying past them were slowing down. “What’s happening?”

  “We are almost there,” Vlad said as the car stopped completely. The world swam around Myra for a moment before it came back to its normal position. “We will continue on foot.”

  “Why did Sissi and I need to come, anyway?” asked Myra.

  “Ila won’t be too happy to see me,” he said. “I need a human shield.”

  Myra threw him an outraged look, and he grinned. “Don’t worry, she would never harm a human. Come.”

  The trio reached a rock face covered in long, hanging lianas. As they approached, Myra spotted a gate carved into the solid rock. When they were no more than two hundred steps away, people emerged from the gate, armed with swords and crossbows.

  Myra stopped in her tracks, wondering why Vlad was not doing the same. About thirty warriors were waiting for them. Each bore a laden crossbow pointed straight at the Prince’s chest.

  The warriors parted, creating a clear path for the fast-approaching single figure—a short and round-faced woman with long jet-black hair held together in two side-braids. She looked no older than twenty, but Myra guessed she was probably a centuries-old vampire. She was dressed comfortably, yet stylishly, in a fitted dark blue shirt and slender black jeans tucked inside high leather boots. Long silver earrings hung from her ears, and her dark eyes shone with unsuppressed fire.

  “You cowardly, stinking scumbag,” she cried, as she approached in short but fast strides. “You sleazy piece of trash! How dare you show your ugly face here?”

  Vlad gave her a radiant smile. “My face is many things, my dear,” he said. “But I would bet you anything that there is neither a human nor a vampire in this world who would claim it to be ‘ugly.’”

  She raised her hand to hit him, but he caught her wrist midair. “Now, now, Ila, not in front of the humans.”

  Ila looked at the girls as if seeing them for the first time. “You think you can hide behind your farm animals?”

  Myra straightened her jacket and cleared her throat. “We’re not from the Farm. I belong to a Resistance that has been fighting the Prince.”

  “Admirable,” Ila said in a tone of voice that suggested it was anything but. “And what a fine job you’ve done, defeating the one you call Prince.”

  Myra looked away, offended on Zack’s behalf. “To be fair, we’ve had some success.”

  Ila raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? Then tell me, please, why are you walking by Vladimir’s side under what appears to be your free will?”

  Vlad walked straight towards one of the guards, a vampire with a shaved head, unperturbed by the wooden bolt pointed at his heart. The guard seemed to hesitate, the crossbow wavering in his hand. His eyes darted towards Ila, who shook her head, frowning. The Prince reached the bald vampire and placed his hand over the crossbow, pushing it down so that the bolt pointed to the ground. “No need for that, friend.”

  He looked at the other guards, who still held their crossbows up, pointed at his chest. He gave each a smile before turning to Ila. “If you had given me a chance to explain, I could have told you we all fight on the same side now.”

  Ila looked at her warriors, one by one, her eyes inspecting the wooden weapons. Her gaze rested on a female vampire dressed in leather mail, and their eyes locked. An unspoken command seemed to pass between them, and the warrior’s finger stiffened on the trigger. Tension hung in the air, so thick Myra could taste it in every breath. “I’d rather stake myself than fight side by side with a murderer,” Ila said. “What is this madness?”

  Vlad turned his back on the bald guard, who promptly raised his crossbow once again. “I need your help in destroying the WeatherWizard.”

  Whatever Ila had expected to hear, Myra was quite certain it was not that. The vampire stood frozen, staring at Vlad. “You… but why?”

  “I thought it was obvious,” the Prince said. “The Wizard is heavily guarded. I need to pull a lot of strings to give us an opening to act, but I cannot destroy it by myself.” He turned back to wink at the bald guard, grinning at the raised crossbow.

  “What are you talking about?” Ila snapped. “What I am asking is, why do you wish to destroy the Wizard? It makes no sense.”

  The Prince shrugged and waved at the dark clouds above. “What can I say? I miss the sunshine.”

  Myra thought she saw small thunderbolts springing out of Ila’s dark eyes. “Vladimir, this is no time for jokes. You come here and drop a bomb like that. Do you expect me to take you seriously?”

  “Actually, yes,” he said. “I cannot do this without you. I need you and your warriors.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “So this is what this is about? You need my warriors. You will station a few of them in each of several major palaces, so they are ready to strike when the time comes.” She paused. “Do you think I’m that naïve? This thing has the word ‘trap’ written all over it, in big fluorescent letters. You can’t take us down in any other way, so now you try to cheat me.”

  “Oh, please,” Vlad said. “I could have taken you down long ago if I had wanted to. And this is no trap. I wish to destroy the Wizard, as do you. If you send me away, you will miss the only opportunity to get this done.”

  Ila crossed her arms. “I won’t give you a single warrior unless you give me your two sidekicks as hostages.”

  Vlad seemed to consider this and turned towards the girls. “Myra, Sissi, I hope you would not mind. Ila is true to her word and will treat you well.”

  “You must be joking,” Ila cried. “I’m not talking about the humans. I mean Armida and Tristan, of course.”

  “They are not my ‘sidekicks,’” Vlad said.

  “And we are?” Myra said.

  “Whatever. We’re not here to argue semantics,” said Ila. “Would you consider leaving them with me as hostages to guarantee my warriors’ safety?”

  “No,” Vlad replied. “I need them as backup if the battle goes wrong. They are both capable fighters.”

  “And we are not?” Myra asked.

  “There is no deal, then,” Ila said.

  “Ila, please,” Vlad said. “Surely you see my point. We will be a few against many. We need everyone able to fight.”

  “I can use a gun, not that anyone cares,” Myra murmured, and Sissi gave her a sympathetic grin.

  “I don’t trust you enough for such a deal,” Ila said.

  “My lady,” a vampire said from behind them, and all eyes turned to him. The first thing Myra noticed was his short dark hair. In fact, she saw that there were many short-haired vampires among Ila’s warriors, and a few had their heads completely shaven, like the one guard Vlad had challenged. So long hair was not necessarily a vampire thing; it was more like the Prince dictating the fashion trends.

  “What is it, Serhan?” Ila asked.

  “The Prince has traveled a long way to come and give us his proposal,” the vampire said. “We should at least invite him inside and hear him out.”

  Ila held his gaze for a moment and turned back towards Vlad. “Very well,” she said. “My men have better manners than I do, but I tend to let grace slip
when I am in the company of those who only murder and destroy. Please, follow me.”

  He smiled and gave her a small nod. “Lead the way.”

  “It’s a trap,” Sissi said and blushed deeply when Vlad looked at her. “Your Highness, I mean, it’s obviously a trap. They want to get you inside so they can kill you or capture you.”

  “I know, dear,” Vlad said, taking a step after Ila. “But you are brave to speak up.”

  Myra stared at him. “Then why on earth are we following?”

  “Because,” he said loudly, looking sideways at Ila, “it is a show of trust and good will.”

  This was complete madness, Myra thought as she eyed the entrance into a dark, narrow tunnel. Did he have a plan? He always did—he had saved Tristan after all when it had seemed impossible. But this seemed more like unreasonable arrogance than a plan. After she had fought so hard to save Vlad’s sorry life from Zack, he was now throwing it away as if it meant nothing. Her only hope now was that at least Sissi and she would be unharmed.

  Who was she kidding? They were humans. What did she think the vampires would do to them—invite them for tea and cookies and then send them home?

  Myra took a deep breath and stepped into the dark.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Untamed

  Torches lit the narrow passage as they stepped deeper into the cave, and darkness faded away. “No need to be scared, dear,” Ila said, as if reading Myra’s mind. “I never harm humans.”

  Myra gave her a sideways glance. “You are a most unusual vampire.”

  Ila snorted. “I am a disgrace to vampires, or at least I’ve been told so. My own sire considers me her biggest mistake. Well, it’s not like I chose to be turned.”

  “Very few have the privilege to choose to be turned,” Vlad said. “You could have adapted, like the rest of us.”

  “Adapted?” Ila glared at him. “One day I have a family, I am happy, and I have long years of life ahead of me. And then, all of a sudden, I am dead, and I am supposed to feed on those I loved?”

  Myra stared at Ila, as if seeing her for the first time. “So you refused to drink human blood? Is that possible?”

  “Completely possible, as my brothers and sisters here can attest. We feed on animal blood—the taste is worse, and its magic is weaker, so we need to drink more. We could never reach the strength of human-drinking vampires, but we survive. And before the Nightfall, many of us used to steal blood from hospitals.”

  “How noble and righteous,” Vlad said. “You claim you never harmed any human, and yet you stole blood donated for transfusions? Have you ever wondered if anyone died because they needed a transfusion and blood of the right type was missing just then, because of you? You murdered just the same, but as long as it is not with your own hands and fangs, it makes it all fine.”

  “You didn’t murder humans just to survive,” Ila said. “You loved it. You reveled in being a vampire, embraced it completely and celebrated it. For me, being turned was a curse. I never turned anyone afterward, and I did all I could, short of plunging a stake through my own heart, to minimize the damage I would inflict.”

  “So you fight on the side of humans?” Myra said. “And you hate the Prince because of the Nightfall and what he did, and not because of some past incident between you?”

  To Myra’s surprise, they exited the tunnel and found themselves in a large clearing. She had expected the vampires to live underground, but she could now see large wooden structures in between the rocks. All of them looked recently built—so it was possible to create something after all. Vlad and his people were just being lazy.

  “This is true,” Ila said, “Though Vladimir and I had met before, and my memories are not fond.”

  “When did you meet?” Sissi asked. Just then, they reached a large metal double door, standing as tall as three grown men. It opened before them and a male vampire stepped out and bowed low.

  Rich, orange light spilled over the bowing figure, and Myra couldn’t help but stare. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but he didn’t look like a vampire. Not that he lacked the good looks—not at all. Perhaps it was his short curly hair? Until today, Myra had seen only a handful of short-haired vampires. Or, perhaps it was his warm olive skin, which looked sun-kissed, even though she knew it was impossible.

  He rose, and a warm smile spread across his face. “Welcome, dear humans. Please follow me to the dining hall.” He looked directly at her, as if Vlad wasn’t even there. Stars appeared to dance in his large, soulful eyes, and Myra wondered how someone dead could look so alive.

  They followed him and stepped into a dining hall, bathed in soft light. “Please, join us at the table,” Ila said. “We can talk more once you are refreshed.”

  They took seats, and a tall vampire approached them from behind, carrying heavy shackles that were connected to the wall with massive chains. Vlad flashed him a grin. “I thought you would think this necessary.” He stretched out his hands, letting their hosts chain him.

  “It’s merely a precaution,” Ila said. “We don’t trust you.”

  “Of course not,” the Prince said and sniffed suspiciously at the glass placed in front of him. “Wine with swine blood? Seriously? You drink blood from glasses? That’s pathetic. And do you think the wine can mask the smell of pig?”

  “We are civilized here,” Ila said sternly. “We don’t suck the blood out of living beings.”

  “Of course not,” the Prince said. “You merely squeeze the blood out of living beings. It makes all the difference.”

  “You are trying my patience,” Ila said.

  His lips stretched into a thin smile, and he bowed his head. “Forgive me. How disrespectful of me. Thank you for the delicious drink.”

  “I hope there is no blood in my wine,” Myra said.

  “Don’t worry,” Ila said. “We have human-friendly food and drinks for you two. But, Vladimir, the girls wanted to know how we two met. You don’t mind my telling them, do you? I doubt it’s something you are proud of.”

  “It is most certainly not something I am ashamed of, as you seem to imply.” He looked at Myra and Sissi, who both sat to his right. “It happened around three decades after I had turned Armida. She loved being a vampire, but she never stopped seeking more excitement. One day, she said she wanted to come up with a game. She suggested that we try something—that we go to a human settlement and live among the humans for a while and pretend to be like them. She was curious to see when and if anyone would notice there was something different about us.”

  “But how could you do it?” Sissi asked. “You could only be around humans at night, or if you were inside.”

  “Exactly,” Vlad said. “This is why Armida came up with the brilliant idea to try our experiment with the Sami people in the northernmost parts of Scandinavia. We could go in winter, when the nights were long. I was impressed with her—just a couple of decades before, she had possessed no knowledge of the world beyond the borders of her own village.”

  “Not to spoil your ideal, but most humans can grow much smarter and gain lots of knowledge in far shorter periods,” Ila said.

  “Most humans do not know how to enjoy life the way she does,” said Vlad. “Anyway, she wanted to do it, but Tristan disagreed.”

  Sissi’s eyes brightened. “Tristan was also with you at the time?”

  Ila snorted. “You must know nothing of the Unholy Trinity to ask such a question.”

  “Yes, he was,” Vlad said. “And you know how he is. He despised living among humans. He had hated it during his lifetime, and he saw no reason to return to it. But after they both presented their arguments, I grew to like Armida’s idea and took her side.”

  “To my great misfortune,” Ila said.

  “We went to live among the Sami,” Vlad continued. “We fished with them and herded reindeer with them. We helped them make knives and cups out of bone and antler and clothing out of reindeer leather and sinews. We learned their card and board games. But Armida�
�s wanderlust burned bright, and she wished to discover new places and people.

  “And so we traveled east, crossing the White Sea Throat and trekking through the northwestern region of Russia, until we reached Siberia. We stayed with many tribes on our way—Nenets, Nganasans, Yakuts. Some tribes consisted of less than a hundred people, but they all spoke their own tongue and had their own way of life—breeding white and fluffy Samoyed dogs to pull their sledges across hills of sparkling snow and to herd their reindeer, worshipping animals and plants, rivers and rocks, battling huge and ferocious tundra wolves. We learned much from each, but eager to see more, we pushed on and on until we crossed the Bering Strait and settled for a time with the Inuit of Alaska.”

  He smiled at Sissi, who looked as if her eyes were about to pop out. Myra wondered if Sissi’s made-up stories of the Prince’s life had ever touched on such travels.

  “The Inuit were hospitable people, ready to assist three strangers lost in their lands,” Vlad continued. “They showed us all they knew, hunting and fishing, making clothes of caribou skin and seal guts. They taught us that although seals and polar bears were very nutritious, we could never eat the liver, or it would cause us to go mad and die. Naturally, I tried it, but it had no ill effects on me.

  “I found living among them unique and enriching, and it was easy for us to keep up the pretense. Life was hard, especially in winter—you could lose a limb to frostbite, starve to death, or lose your way in the eternal darkness over the endless fields of snow—and so no one was overly surprised if someone went missing.

  “Armida and I loved it, but Tristan hated every minute of it. Almost every minute, for there was this one young girl. His eyes brightened up every time she entered the igloo.” His eyes turned towards Ila, who sat at the table with her fingers clenched around her glass and her shoulders tense. “And so Armida decided to play matchmaker.”

  Ila sipped from her pig blood mixed with wine and placed the glass on the table. “For those of you unfamiliar with the internal dynamics of the Unholy Trinity,” she said, “let me spell it out for you. Armida likes to be the center of attention. She grows anxious whenever the world isn’t revolving around her. And to her, it made sense she should have Vladimir’s undivided attention and occupy his every thought. She was jealous he was spending so much time with Blondie and wanted to find him a partner and take him out of the picture.”