by Amy Cross
“You just have to accept that you're going to be weak for a while,” Hugo had told me once. “If you try to do too much, you'll only end up damaging yourself further.”
“Fine,” I murmured, stepping around the soldier and starting to make my way along the corridor.
“I'm glad you saw sense,” he replied, walking along behind me.
A moment later, I felt his gun nudge against the small of my back.
“If that thing touches me again,” I growled, “I'll ram it down your throat.”
“Sure you will,” he said quietly.
I was about to tell him to be careful, when I felt the woman's pain burst through my mind again. Something had just happened, something that had come close to ending her life, but she was somehow managing to cling on. I wanted to rush to her, to pull her away from the barbarian, but I quickly reminded myself that I had to contain my anger. There would come a time when my strength would be fully replenished, but I had not yet reached that point. I had to be patient. I was not accustomed to having to be smart.
“Lousy vampire scum,” the soldier muttered behind me.
Stopping, I turned to him.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He prodded my chest with the gun. “Keep moving.”
I stared at him for a moment, imagining all the things I would do to him if I had my strength, and then I turned and started walking again. As I did so, however, I couldn't help but clench my fists.
“Pathetic wretch,” the soldier said under his breath.
I stopped again.
“Hey!” He nudged me with the gun. “I told you to keep moving!”
“What did you say just now?” I asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to stay calm. I still had my back to the wretched fool. “I didn't quite hear.”
“I said you're going to walk,” he sneered. “What part of that is difficult to understand?”
“I think,” I replied, “it's the part where you think you can talk to me like that.”
“Really?”
I turned to him.
“You're not so impressive,” he continued, still smirking. “You know, whenever I heard about vampires before, they always sounded like these great creatures. Now that I've finally met one, it turns out that you don't really look very different to the rest of us.” He looked me up and down, while chuckling to himself. “I don't get why anyone would be scared of you,” he added. “There's nothing to you, really. Just a reputation and a stern look now and again. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've taken down bigger men in bar brawls.”
“Is that right?” I asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Maybe we should put that to the test.”
He smiled.
I opened my mouth, baring my fangs.
His smiled hung for a moment on his face, before souring in a flash of panicked realization.
In a flash, I struck, and it was over before it had really begun. I pinned the wretched human to the wall and snarled as I tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck with ease. My intention had been to drain his blood, but at the last moment I decided against feeding on such a miserable wretch, so instead – as he let out a pained gasp – I twisted his head around and tore it clean off his shoulders, letting his body crumple down to the ground. His blood, I decided, was probably weak and filthy anyway.
“You were saying something?” I snarled, turning his head around as blood dribbled from the bottom. “I should thank you,” I added. “I needed this.”
His mouth opened, as if he might be about to say something, but then he merely blinked at me as I grinned back at him.
“Hey! You! Stop!”
I turned to see another soldier rushing toward me with his gun raised. Before I could say anything, he fired a shot that hit me in the shoulder. I shuddered, but the pain was far from a problem, and I surprised myself by rushing forward and grabbing this second man. As he dropped his gun and begged for mercy, I pinned him against the wall and then used the first soldier's severed head to beat him about the face, crushing his features into a pulpy mess. Finally, I dropped the head and grabbed the second soldier's throat properly, squeezing tighter and tighter until my fingertips began to break through into his oesophagus.
“I think my brother might have been a little too cautious about my health,” I sneered. “For the first time in quite a while, I actually feel like myself again!”
Chapter Thirty-One
Chloe
“I still need more,” Doctor Loman said, sounding bored as he turned to me and held up a hacksaw. “I think it's time for some proper -”
Suddenly a loud thud rang out from above, and he looked up toward the ceiling just as a thin layer of dust fell down. A moment later there was another thud, then another, and then some crashing sounds and cries rang out from the main part of the building.
“That doesn't sound too good,” Doctor Loman continued, as another man screamed in the distance. He turned to me again, and I could see the fear in his eyes as yet another scream filled the air, sounding closer this time. “I think something might be coming our way.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Matthias
“I brought you some mementos,” I snarled as I stormed into the library and held up the four severed heads I'd collected from some of the dead soldiers. “After spending so long recuperating, I felt like being dramatic again.”
Zieghoff stepped back, his face filled with horror.
“That's the thing about poking an injured beast,” I continued, dropping the heads and then making my way across the room. “You have to make sure that they stay injured, otherwise there comes a point when they start fighting back.”
“You're faking it,” he stammered.
“Do you really think so?”
“Stop!” he gasped, grabbing a gun from his desk and aiming it at me. “Don't come any closer!”
“Or what?” I asked, stopping just a few feet from him. “You'll -”
He fired, hitting me in the chest, and then he fired two more times until the gun let out an impotent clicking sound.
“You severely over-played your hand here,” I snarled, ripping the gun from his hand and then grabbing him by the throat, spinning him around and finally slamming him against the wall. “As it turns out, my brother might have been a little over-protective. He was always warning me that I wasn't well, that I risked my health if I strained myself. I understand his concern, but perhaps I should pay more attention to my own instincts. And do you know what? Now that I'm back up and running, I actually feel pretty good.”
“Wait!” he gasped, as I squeezed his throat tighter. “We can still make a deal!”
“Vampires don't make deals with humans,” I said, leaning closer to him and baring my fangs. “Vampires either ignore humans, or feed off them. There's nothing between those two extremes.”
“The woman -”
“I'll get to the woman in a moment,” I told him, cutting him off. “When my brother and I arrived in Paris, we told you that we didn't want to get involved in your petty human squabbles, and we meant every word of that. But it's not possible, is it? We can't be among you without getting drawn into the madness. It's as if you crave our attention, as some kind of validation. I don't know who this Chloe Carter woman is, but I'm going to find out, and I won't let you or anyone else – not even Hugo – stand in my way. I refuse to be -”
Suddenly hearing a rustling sound, I looked down and saw that Zieghoff had been trying to surreptitiously slip a dagger from beneath his shirt, no doubt with the intention of attacking me.
“Really?” I sneered. “Is that something you truly want to do?”
He hesitated, and then he let the dagger slip from his hand.
“Kill me!” he gasped.
I looked into his eyes and saw that the fear seemed to have been replaced by something else, by a kind of hunger. It was an expression I had seen many times before, in people who knew they were about to die. Once they had accepted the inevitabl
e, they sometimes yearned for death. They wanted to feel what it was like to be killed by a vampire. Humans, I had realized much earlier, could be very strange at times.
“If I'm to die anyway,” he continued, “then so be it. If our glorious empire is to fall, then I do not want to see. But if I can die at the hands of a vampire, then perhaps that's the most noble death of all. I only ask that you kill me slowly, Matthias. Let me feel every rip, every tear, every bone as it breaks. Let me feel you drain my blood away, let me even feel my life-force entering your body. Let me know what it's like to be consumed by such a powerful creature.”
“You're pathetic,” I murmured, even though he'd only confirmed my suspicions.
“I worship only power,” he replied. “Let me feel your power.”
I stared at him for a moment, before realizing that he was deadly serious. This wretched little worm was so utterly entranced by the idea of power, he wanted to die at my hands. He wanted to feel my power ripping him to shreds, and he actually considered that to be a good death. In truth, I desperately wanted to kill him, but I was also repulsed by the idea of giving him what he wanted. He was staring at me with an expression of pure wonder, as if his immiment death filled him with an almost orgasmic delight, and finally – forcing myself to turn against my instincts – I let go out of his throat and let him slither down to the floor.
“Why aren't you doing it yet?” he gurgled, as if madness was finally overcoming his soul. His eyes were open wide, burning with insanity.
“Because I want you to die the way you lived, Zieghoff,” I replied, as I reached down and picked up the dagger. “Pathetically.”
With that, I drove the dagger through his shoulder and into the wall, pinning him in place. He cried out in pain, but I merely twisted the blade a little before letting go and standing back.
“Do it!” he snarled. “I don't want to be weak! I want to be strong, or I want to be dead!”
“You shall be neither,” I reply, turning and walking away. “Not today.”
“Get back here!” he shouted as I headed out into the corridor. He sounded utterly insane. “I command you! I will not die like this! I will die at your hands!”
“In your dreams,” I muttered, making my way to the door at the corridor's far end, which sprung open as I got closer.
I saw the doctor come running up the stairs, and he froze for a moment as he saw me. For a few seconds he merely stared at me, and then he mumbled something under his breath and ran away. In my prime, I might well have gone after him and cut him down, merely for the sport, but on this particular occasion I knew that I had to conserve my strength. To that end, I made my way down the stairs, ignoring Zieghoff's voice as he continued to call out to me. He sounded completely insane, as if his mind had finally broken. Finally I reached the bloodied chamber beneath Chateau Malafort.
As soon as I saw Chloe Carter, still strapped into her seat, I felt certain that she must be dead.
And then she began to stir. Her head lolled to one side and she murmured something that I could not hear, and then her head tipped forward. Her body was covered in cuts and marks, and the stench of blood was thick in the air. As I stepped toward her, I saw that her fingernails had been torn away. Several patches of skin had been removed, and dried blood was caked all over her body. A single bead of blood was dribbling down her arm. She let out a faint sigh, and I realized to my horror that she was somehow managing to stay alive.
Not bad, for a human.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chloe
My eyes flicked open, and I saw light high above, breaking through gaps in a wooden roof. I blinked as I tried to get used to the bright light, and then I took a deep breath and felt an immediate splinter of pain in my left side.
“What the...”
For a moment, I had no idea where I was or how I'd got there. I barely even remembered my own name. Finally, however, everything came flooding back and I remembered being in that dungeon at Chateau Malafort, and I remembered the sight of Doctor Loman reaching toward me with a set of pliars. I remembered the pain, I remembered screaming, and I remembered praying for death. And then...
And then nothing.
Darkness.
Silence.
A void that seemed as if it might stretch on forever, until...
Until I opened my eyes and saw the roof high above.
I began to sit up, but the pain was intense. I gasped, but I knew that I couldn't just stay flat on my back, so I forced myself to sit up all the way. Looking around, I was surprised to find that I was in some kind of barn. A large open door on the far side revealed a view of vast fields stretching away to the horizon, and a gentle breeze caused the tops of nearby trees to rustle gently. I glanced over my shoulder and saw farm equipment nearby, and on the other side of the room there were workbenches decked out with various tools.
I felt a shudder pass through my chest as I realized that perhaps Doctor Loman had merely transported me to some other torture center.
Then again, I was no longer restrained. I looked down at my hands and saw that my nails had been removed, leaving the pinkness beneath. There was pain all over my body, but I was only really able to process so much. I felt the worst of the pain, and the rest seemed to merely ripple beneath the surface, waiting for its chance. My heart was pounding and my thoughts were racing, and at the same time I was terrified that soldiers would arrive at any moment and that the whole nightmare would begin again.
Slowly, pushing against the pain, I got to my feet. I almost tottered straight over, but somehow I managed to find my balance, and then I started shuffling forward. I was wearing some kind of shapeless cloth sack, tied around the middle, but I was just glad to be wearing anything at all. As I reached the large open doorway, I slowed a little and began to listen out for any hint that there might be other people around, but when I peered outside I saw that the barn appeared to be out in the middle of nowhere.
Suddenly feeling a little weak, I reached out and supported myself against the wall. Once that wave of exhaustion had passed, I stepped out into the morning sun and took another look around, and this time I spotted the ruins of a farmhouse nearby. I began to make my way over, and I soon discovered that there appeared to have been a fire at some point. Charred timbers had been left on the ground, but the fire must have been huge. The building had basically been destroyed.
A moment later, hearing a crunching sound nearby, I turned and saw a figure coming around from the rear of the barn. I flinched, ready to run, but then the figure stopped and looked at me, and I realized that I recognized him.
“Matthias?” I whispered, shocked but also relieved. It was him. Finally. “Matthias!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Matthias
“No, I do believe you,” I said, even though I was struggling to understand precisely how any of this could have happened. “You come from the future, and in the future you met me. I can sense that you feel a connection to me, even if...”
My voice trailed off.
“Even if you have no idea who I am,” she replied after a moment, and in that moment I could see the sadness in her eyes.
“Klaus Zieghoff has been experimenting with the occult for many years,” I told her. “Many have mocked him for that, and he has certainly gone down plenty of dead ends. Eventually, however, it was inevitable that he would stumble upon some true power. The only consolation is that he doesn't seem to understand the nature of that power. Not yet, anyway.”
“How do I get home?” she asked.
“Perhaps I should have killed him back there,” I continued. “I didn't want to give him what he wanted, but I should have just cut his throat. I could have given him the death her so clearly craved.”
“Matthias -”
“I won't make the same mistake again,” I said firmly. “If I ever see Zieghoff again, I'll -”
“Matthias!”
I turned to her.
“How do I get home?” she asked again.
“I don't know,” I replied. “For now, you need to focus on recovering from your injuries. You must be in a great deal of pain.”
“It's better than still being strapped in that chair,” she explained. “I thought I was going to die back there. I mean, I really thought there was no way out. At the end, anyway. At the start, I kept waiting for you to -”
She stopped suddenly, as if she was worried about completing that sentence.
“For me to save you?” I asked. “Tell me, in the future, do I make a habit of doing things like that?”
“You have your moments.”
“And I'm waiting for you there, am I?” I continued.
“You...” Again, her voice trailed off, and she looked away for a few seconds. “Something like that.”
“I don't want to know anything about the future,” I told her. “Not really. That kind of power is too great, and I don't want to risk changing anything. The best solution, for all concerned, would be for you to go back to where you came from, and to get on with your life there, and then I in turn can get on with my life here. I am -”
Suddenly I felt a flicker of pain in my side, catching me offguard, and I let out an agonized gasp.
“Are you hurt?” Chloe asked.
“Nothing that won't pass. Let's just say that I exerted myself back there. Some rest would do me good, but there's no time for that now. We're barely twenty miles from Paris. If people are looking for us, they'll check this place sooner rather than later, and we need to be gone by then. Or at least, we need to have a plan. We need to have figured out how we're going to get you home.”
“Zieghoff said something about a blue ring,” she replied. “I didn't really understand. I'd never seen it before, but he said it had been in my pocket.”
“That might just be a coincidence.”
“He said it existed twice, as if it had been at both ends of the journey I made back in time. Like it was some kind of anchor.”