by Ana Calin
As I watch him from the other side of the bar, between dancing shapes and shadows, I realize that Irina’s got herself a dangerous stalker. He’s not in love or even in lust with her, but he wants to possess her in a very sick way. I can see that he’s growing dangerously obsessed with her.
I want to believe that Irina can hold up to that. I tell myself she’s a powerhouse, one of Dracula’s most trusted people, and that she’d earned that position through her skills. He allowed her to wield power in his name, and sometimes I even felt she was like a daughter to him. But the more I watch this show the more I realize that’s not gonna count for much. The obsessed bastard has the upper hand, but I will save her or die trying.
Two shifters by the guy’s wheel chair jerk something harshly, and on a closer look I recognize the male dancer from the other establishment, the one with the graceful, painted body who danced for the woman.
“What the hell are you going to do?” Herald urges.
“Shut up,” I hiss.
“Lazarus, please. You’re a scholar, not a fighter. Let’s get out of here, you’re not Radek or Dracula.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” I have a rank among the vampires, and there’s a good reason why, but I won’t discuss that with Herald, sure as hell not here and now.
“Please, I beg you, let’s save ourselves, and we’ll devise a new plan later. There’s no way we can help her now.”
Irina’s cry tears through the club, and right through my heart. “No, please,” she yelps.
The two shifters pull at the male dancer’s arms to rip him apart, and Irina falls to her knees. Jealousy hits me in the chest—why does she react like he’s special to her?
“Come then, sweetheart,” the guy in the chair says, pulling out a silver jackknife and snapping up the blade. My blood rises—he’s going to try and hurt her; and if he doesn’t succeed, he’s gonna discover her immunity to silver, so one way or the other this is a dead end for Irina. I have to step in, I have to save her, now.
“Come closer,” the man says. “Walk down to me, one long leg in front of the other, pretty pussy, that’s it.”
Irina moves slowly to him, but I can smell the fear coming off of her. I wonder if that bastard tormenting her smells it, too, or if it’s the special connection she and I now share. The special connection that pulls me to her like a magnet, and that I won’t be able to resist for much longer. I have to come up with a plan, fast, it won’t help her if I just step in there and get us all killed.
The bastard has her kneel in front of him, and orders her to open his fly. He waves the silver knife in the air, his own hand shielded by a leather glove. I can smell that he’s a vampire, too. Then what the hell is he doing in a wheelchair?
He grabs a fistful of Irina’s blonde hair in his other hand, and my brain catches fire. I look around, kicking myself to think faster. This place is full of supernaturals. What could weaken them now? Not much. But I could do something to distract them, just enough to save her. A few moments of confusion would be enough to get Irina out of here. But will be enough to run away with her?
My eyes find all the fire sensors and the devices ready to rain down on the club if a fire breaks out, even though both the sensors and the devices might be for something else. The last establishment was equipped to rain aphrodisiac bubbles down on the clients and the entertainers. Even that would be enough to distract, create confusion.
I flash out and pick a bottle, hauling it at the first sensor in my way. Nothing happens, but the serpents around the wheelchair guy move quickly, realizing something’s happening behind the bar on which Irina is dancing.
“What the hell are you doing, you fucker?” Herald shrieks, but nothing can deter me now. I look around for something to use, kicking myself to think faster, what would set off the sensors?
“You better do something effective this time,” Herald urges, grabbing my arm tightly. “They’re coming!”
My eyes move quickly left and right. Under the bar counter, a bunch of buttons. I jump over the back of the bar, tearing through a rack of bottles, and landing like a feline on my feet between the racks and the luminous counter that Irina was dancing on. Irina has turned around, the gaunt man in the wheelchair with madness in his red eyes staring right at me as the serpent shifters head quickly to me, the floor shuddering under their steps.
I run my hand over all the buttons, activating everything. Alarms go off, tearing through the clients’ eardrums, causing them to throw themselves to the floor, hands over their heads to protect from the shrill orchestra of sounds. The vamps don’t react, as if drugged, keeping their mouths on the limbs they’d been sucking on.
Only seconds later the devices start spraying water, foam and other liquids, causing the serpents to cave—it may be a substance they’re sensitive to; makes sense, many clients here are supernaturals, the prostitutes need protection in case clients cross the line, or maybe even lose it.
I jump over the counter as quickly as a whirlwind, grabbing Irina’s hand and pulling her after me towards the exit that we came in through. She follows with hollow eyes, as if she’s in shock or as if she’s just experienced some kind of trauma.
I look back to see Herald limping after me with the eyes of a desperate little animal escaping the chase of a predator, but he points behind him at the man in the wheel chair who’s staring, still and unbothered, with a promise in his red glare. As if this is exactly what he’d been hoping for.
“You better kill that bastard,” Herald calls. “You won’t get another chance to find Zdrovan Daniel unprotected, use it now that his serpent bodyguards are writhing on the floor.”
I stop in place, stunned. “Zdrovan Daniel? Geneva’s husband?”
One of the serpents manages to get up to his feet, steadying himself. He starts toward us with a glare that promises violence, but Zdrovan Daniel stops him.
“No. Take care of this one.” He jerks his head to the male dancer with the painted body. The serpent seems confused, but he gets a grip in an instant. He grabs the dancer and pulls him, tugging his long hair and exposing his neck.
“No,” Irina cries, throwing herself in their direction but she stops against my arms. She tries to push through, but I hold her firmly.
“No way I’m letting you do this,” I say in her ear.
“Choose wisely, Irina,” the bastard prompts. “His life depends on you. If you choose to turn your back, know that his death won’t be quick or painless.”
“No, please,” she begs. I can’t believe I’m seeing her like this. The most audacious vampires in the world, powerful, iron-hearted, willing to go back to save a poor devil’s life.
No, I can’t let her, no matter what. I have to make the decision for her, and I’ll answer for it later. We don’t have much time, the other serpents are starting to recover. One of them has already dragged himself close to the bar, ready to press the right buttons and deactivate the wailing alarms and the fluids spraying down on us, soaking our hair and clothes.
I assess my chances. Even if I could take them all down, I wouldn’t be able to get Irina or Herald out of here alive. I’m forced to sacrifice the dancer. There’s no other way.
Just as more serpents come to their feet, tensing under soaked black suits and glaring murderously at us, I force Irina towards the back exit. I know which way to take to hide and make it impossible for them to catch us, but they don’t even try to follow. A gut-tearing cry blasts after us, a cry that spears Irina, and makes her break in my arms and claw to my soaked shirt.
She lets out a heart-wrenching “No!” her eyes screwed tightly in pain, her mouth opening wide. Her pain squeezes my heart like in a ruthless fist, but I have to force her to move on. I’m responsible for both her and Herald. I reach behind me to the breathless old man that barely manages to keep up, knowing he won’t be able to for much longer. In a few minutes I jump out of the club through a side window, landing on the sidewalk among shards of glass, one arm around Irina’s waist, the
other around Herald’s back, supporting him under his armpits.
Lazarus
HERALD BREATHES LIKE a dying old smoker by the time we reach the wide street leading to the university. It’s completely deserted at night, but well-lit, and the bloody scratches on his head, face and arms are visible. They smell like fine wine, too, like an elixir of life that would still my burning thirst, but luckily I’ve trained myself to resist these cravings.
“The university, really, that’s where you’re taking us?” Herald asks, glancing behind, hunch-backed and bracing himself against the cool night. He’s still afraid someone might be following is, and I think that trauma will follow him for the rest of his life.
“Believe it or not, it’s the safest place.”
“Safe how? The Serpent Lord’s people know you work here, they’ll think to look.”
“Yes, but the university grounds are secured by Dracula’s people. Attacking the university or any place related to it would mean open war with Dracula. The Serpent Lord wouldn’t risk that, at least not yet.”
I tighten my arm around Irina, my lips hardening as I think of the reason she’s trembling like this. She’s a vampire, the cold can’t bother her, so it must be what that bastard got to do to her at the club before I arrived to save her. I hope to God he didn’t break her. No, no one can break Irina Motovilova, no one, I have to believe that.
The only place I can take them to is my office, because it’s from here that I can organize a dorm for us. It’s Saturday, and many students have gone home for the week-end, so we’re sure to get one if I ask the right people. I hate doing it, but it’s the only solution right now.
The university never really sleeps. There are students inside, scattered, working late on their rapidly approaching deadlines, exhausted eyes on notebook screens, energy drinks in hand. I see two of my students on the steps. I stop in place, looking around for alternate routes, but it’s too late. The two girls look up from their work and stare at us with big eyes.
“Professor Raica,” they greet.
They stare at us baffled, and who can blame them. Here is their professor, water dripping from his hair, his shirt clinging to his body, one arm around a woman who looks like a prostitute. And when Herald catches up, bracing himself against the cold and looking like a scared chicken that’s been plucked of all its feathers, one of the girls gasps and takes a hand to her mouth.
“My fiancée,” I blurt as we move past them. “And my father in law. Fire at his house, the extinguishers went off.”
I take Irina and Herald up the flight of stairs and down the hallway, ushering them inside my office, and locking the door. The news about Professor Raica having brought his soaking wet, leather and latex wearing fiancée at the office is going to raise quite a few questions on Monday, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes. Right now I hurry to get quilts and start the kettle.
As I take care of the two it becomes clearer to me that Zdrovan Daniel didn’t get to hurt Irina physically, but whatever was said between them got to her deeply.
I hand her a mug of hot tea, more to help warm up her soul than her body.
“Irina,” I begin in the gentlest tone, lowering myself to her side, and winding an arm around her shoulders that now seem fragile under the soft quilt. God, I never thought seeing her weakened would hurt me like this. “I’m really sorry about the dancer boy, but there was nothing either one of us could have done to save him.”
“You should have let me give that bastard what he wanted. It would have saved Kareem.”
“Maybe, but it would have killed you. If not your body, then your soul.”
“I lost my soul a long time ago.” She sips from the tea, and I hold her tighter.
“I don’t think so. I’m sure the Irina I know, the powerful one that takes no shit, is in there somewhere, please don’t let her go.”
She scoffs. “I think that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me.”
I remember the way I used her in that hotel room, and my heart twists inside my chest. I hold her closer, feeling that I owe her emotional connection. “Irina, I have to know. What did that Kareem boy mean to you that you wanted to save him, even if that meant sacrificing yourself?”
She turns her head to me slowly, her blue eyes meeting mine, and my breath catches. I’ve never seen a gaze so deep. It’s like staring into an ancient, bottomless lake, her eyes hypnotic.
“Of all the questions you could ask me right now, this is what you choose to ask?” Her voice is different than usual too, hinting at how deep her soul is.
Shame washes over me, not only for asking what I know is a selfish question, but also for having judged her the way I have until now.
“Don’t beat yourself up for that,” she says. “I did a terrible thing to you years ago, of course you didn’t care about my motives. It was only natural for you to judge by what you could see.”
I search her face, not surprised she knows what I’m thinking. I’m her Grail, and my blood in now inside her body. I’m staring because I can’t control myself, she’s so incredibly beautiful.
She shrugs my arm from around her shoulders, rejecting me for the first time, which stuns and bothers me.
“I need some time alone, if you don’t mind,” Irina says in a broken voice, cradling the steaming mug of tea in both hands like a child.
“Just give me a few minutes, I’ll get us a room in the dorms so you can dry off, be comfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable like this. Please, just a few moments.”
She doesn’t even look at me as she says it. I give Herald Gruff a defeated look, signaling to him that we’re leaving the office. He’s been sitting there in the corner with his own steaming mug of tea, wrapped like a skinny mummy in his own quilt, not making a sound.
I take Herald along and give her the privacy she needs, but I pace around on the hallway like a lion in a cage.
“Would you please stop moving around like a damn tornado?” Herald eventually pleas. “You’re making me nervous. Besides, we should hide somewhere, not sit around here in the hallway where people can come. I don’t know if you realize, but this isn’t exactly a normal picture—you all wet, completely comfortable in your skin when you should be freezing. If students come this way you’re gonna have a hard time explaining.”
I drop down by his side, my back against the wall.
“Tell me about Zdrovan Daniel, Herald. Why did you urge me to kill him while I had the chance? Why is he a special threat?”
Herald opens his mouth to speak, but then the door opens, and Irina appears. Herald’s old bones crack as I help him up from the floor. We walk inside, Irina taking a seat at my desk, keeping the soft quilt around her.
It pains me to look into her beautiful, white face. She seems a haunted woman, and there’s something defeated about her that ravages me on the inside. When did I come to care about this woman like this?
“I’m gonna start by telling you the story of how I know Zdrovan Daniel, and why he enjoys hurting me.” That’s how she begins her report of what happened. Half an hour later I’m sitting on the black leather couch, elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. On the outside I seem calm. On the inside I’m raging.
“What exactly did he do to you when you were fifteen?” I rasp. Talking is an effort because of how my blood is pumping need for revenge in my veins.
“I told you. He killed me.”
“How did he kill you?”
“That’s something I rather not talk about.” She lowers her head, her straight blonde hair falling over her face like a heavy silky curtain. She’s shutting down. I glance at Herald again, who’s made himself small in his corner.
“It’s not because of him,” Irina says, sensing my thoughts. The connection between us grows stronger by the minute, and that’s how I know she’s in no condition to continue with this mission. She needs to rest.
“But the world depends on us fighting this,” she reacts to my thoughts, managing to ho
ld her head up, but it’s painfully obvious how exhausted she is. She can barely keep her eyes open, and vampires only ever need sleep in extreme situations, when they’re drained of life energy. Herald Gruff glances from me to her, puzzled at how we communicate.
“We recorded all this information, that counts as a report.” I motion with my chin to the old-fashioned analog device we used. “We send it to Dracula, and he’s taking over.”
“We still have to discover how the Serpent Lord and his minions make humans immortal, and where they keep them,” Irina says. “All we know so far is that they create immortal humans like they’re breeding cattle, and use their blood to enslave vampires. Just think about the implications of that. Vampires in the power of the Serpent Lord. He could turn Dracula’s entire army to his side that way. Plus that he’s got Dracula’s oldest enemies to support him. His right hand is Zdrovan Daniel, the evil vampire that Dracula broke centuries ago, and his left hand is the Devil’s Son, Dracula’s own boy who hates his father.” She leans back, exhausted, quilt around her. “They are dangerous, and must be stopped, Lazarus. We have no time to lose.”
I grab the device with the recording and get up to my feet. “I’m sending this to Dracula, tonight, and you’re getting some rest. We’ll figure this out when you’ve recovered your strength. Come, I’m getting us a dorm.”
“What about me?” Herald puts in from his corner.
“You’re coming with us,” I grunt between my teeth.
Lazarus
WE GOT A SMALL STUDENT apartment with two narrow rooms and one shared kitchen. Actually it’s a sitting room with a small kitchenette, and one bathroom. The bathroom doesn’t have a tub, so instead of a hot bath Irina is now taking a shower. Herald and I can hear the water running from the sitting room, where we’re waiting for pizza for him.
“You’ve come to care about the girl, haven’t you?” he says after I paid the delivery boy and he can finally stuff food into his mouth.