Three Nights of the Vampire- The Complete Trilogy

by Amy Cross

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “According to our sources,” he replied, “something has changed in Paris. Something to do with Klaus Zieghoff.”

  I felt a shudder at the mention of that name.

  “Zieghoff has always been a very public figure,” he explained. “He's always liked to show off. Over the past few days, however, he apparently hasn't been seen at all, and there are rumors that he's changed in some way. That his plans have been altered. Some of the sources are suggesting that he's completely lost his mind.”

  “He might have had a bad time recently,” I replied cautiously.

  He glanced at me. “How so?”

  “Let's just say that something happened at Chateau Malafort that might have... shaken him, a little.” I was trying to pick my words carefully. “My friend Matthias very nearly killed Zieghoff. I imagine that might have had an impact.”

  “I imagine it might,” he said. “This is a bad development. Before, we could monitor Zieghoff to some extent and extrapolate what he might be planning. We could also rely on the knowledge that, despite everything else, he was at least sane. Now that he's gone to ground, so to speak, we're left without so much information. And Zieghoff has always been a very dangerous man. The kind of man we want to keep tabs on at all times.”

  “But who is Zieghoff really?” I asked. “I mean, I've heard of Hitler and Himmler and Goebbels, and Mengele, those were the bad guys we got taught about in school, but I swear I never heard the name Zieghoff. Not until I got caught up in all of this.”

  “It's hard to believe that his name could ever be forgotten,” Pierre replied.

  “None of it makes sense,” I continued. “Is it possible that...”

  My voice trailed off, and I'd managed to stop myself just in time. I'd so nearly wondered – out loud – whether there was a chance that I'd already inadvertently changed the course of history. I'd been telling myself over and over that such things weren't possible, but in truth my understanding of time travel was based on things like Back to the Future and Avengers. Sure, those had been fun films, but they hadn't necessarily been truly accurate. Was history fixed and unchangeable, or was I already altering the course of civilization simply by breathing the air in 1940's Paris?

  “It's at times like this that you need to keep hope in your heart,” Pierre said. “Sometimes hope is the only thing that can keep you going.”

  “It's so difficult,” I replied.

  “It wouldn't work if it was easy,” he pointed out. “People all across this country, all across Europe, are having to cling to hope in the darkest times. Hope isn't enough to keep you going forever, but it can help you bridge the gaps when you feel as if you're about to fall into the abyss.” He placed a hand on the side of my arm. “And as it happens,” he added, “I've never lost my sense of hope. Not entirely. Somehow, I always manage to keep going.”

  I opened my mouth to ask how he managed, but suddenly I heard footsteps rushing along the corridor, and I turned just in time to see one of the other resistance members racing into the room.

  “We've got company!” she gasped. “Company with big guns!”

  Chapter Fifty

  Chloe

  “This is insane!” I gasped, stopping in the doorway and seeing that a couple of dozen soldiers were marching into the town square, followed by a large, lumbering gray tank. “How did they find us?”

  “They've always known that people live here,” Pierre whispered, “but they never paid us very much attention before. They wrote us off as just a dying little town. This might just be a routine visit. I've heard of those happening before, but...”

  His voice trailed off, and then he turned to me. I could see the fear in his eyes.

  “This doesn't seem like a social call,” I pointed out.

  “There's always hope,” he reminded me. “Stay calm, keep back, and under no circumstances allow these men to learn that you're British.”

  I wanted to ask if this was all my fault, but Pierre pushed past me and head out across the square, making for the spot where the tank was slowly coming to a halt. I watched with a growing sense of horror as the tank's top section began to turn, and I saw that the turret was aiming at several of the nearby buildings. I'd only seen tanks in museums before; now, in real life, the sound of the machinery was immense and I was struck by the sheer power of the thing. I felt absolutely certain that the tank could level the entire town.

  Pierre called something out in French, just as a hatch opened at the top of the tank and a man in a uniform began to climb out. I flinched, and then I felt a flicker of relief as I saw that at least this man wasn't Klaus Zieghoff.

  He barked something in German, to which Pierre replied in French.

  I pulled back, fully aware that I was being hunted.

  For the next few minutes, all I heard was what seemed to be an argument that was being carried out in two completely different languages. I had no idea whether Pierre understood German, and whether the soldier understood French, but the two of them certainly seemed to be answering one another. Pierre seemed like a smart but stubborn man, and I supposed he might well refuse to speak German. Similarly, the soldier might well have understood enough French to get his points across.

  Finally, just as I was starting to wonder whether I should run away, the other soldiers started shouting, and a group of them hurried forward and grabbed a man from the crowd.

  Suddenly voices erupted all across the town square, but the soldiers marched the man toward a wall and threw him against the ground, before stepping back and raising their guns. More voices shouted, and then I watched in horror as a burst of gunfire filled the air and the man's body shuddered violently.

  “Chloe Carter!” the lead soldier shouted in English, as voices sobbed nearby, “one man has already died in order to keep you protected. How many more will you watch perish, before you do the right thing and give yourself up?”

  I stared in stunned silence at the dead man, and then I saw that the soldiers were leading a weeping woman over to the same wall. The situation was spiraling out of control and I suddenly realized that people were about to die because of me.

  Pierre shouted something in French. Whatever he said, he sounded defiant.

  The soldiers stepped back and aimed their weapons at the woman.

  “No!” I screamed, rushing out into the square, desperate to stop the next execution. “I'm here! Just don't hurt anyone else!”

  “And where is the other one?” the soldier asked, as several of his colleagues came toward me with their guns raised.

  “I don't know,” I replied, trembling with fear. “He left. I don't know where he went, I swear!”

  “I find that difficult to believe,” the soldier replied, before turning and barking an order at some of the others.

  Before I could react, more gunshots rang out and the woman slumped down next to the wall. I screamed and ran forward, but soldiers held me back and I heard voices shouting in both French and German.

  “I surrendered!” I yelled. “You don't have to kill anyone else!”

  “They need to learn a lesson,” the soldier replied to me, as more of the local people were rounded up and led toward the wall. “I've long suspected that this region is a hotbed of illegal activity. Besides... You took too long to come forward.”

  I stepped toward him, but other soldiers held me back. And then, as I struggled, I saw Pierre make his way over to the leading soldier and put his arms around him. The soldier turned to pull away, but in that moment I saw that Pierre was holding something in his right hand. As he looked at me, I realized he was carrying a grenade, and that in his other hand he was holding the pin.

  Two soldiers headed over to pull him away.

  I opened my mouth to scream, but in that instant the grenade exploded.

  A huge blast knocked me off my feet, sending me crashing down against the shuddering ground as mud and metal smashed across the entire town square. I felt a sharp ringing sensation in
my ears, and a moment later some chunks of bloodied meat came raining down on top of me. Gunfire rang out nearby and voices screamed, and as smoke filled the air I heard a loud, scraping metallic sound.

  Suddenly there was another boom, and a nearby wall was blown apart.

  Yet another boom rang out, blasting the front of one of the houses, and finally I saw the tank's turret turning in the smoke.

  I stumbled to my feet, but my ears were ringing and I felt incredibly dizzy, as if the ground was going to spin around and upend me at any moment. I backed against one of the remaining walls, and I listened for a moment to the sound of gunfire and screams and explosions. I knew I should run, or that I should at least take cover, but for a few seconds it was as if I'd been frozen to the spot, as if I couldn't even begin to move. I could hear guns being blasted all around, and every few seconds there was another scream, but all I could manage was to step back and watch as the full horror of war exploded all around me.

  And then, finally, I saw the turret swing toward me, and I ducked down just as a huge explosion filled the air. I felt heat against the back of my neck, and the ground shook violently beneath me, and a moment later I felt rubble falling all around. Chunks of brick hit my head and I screamed as I put my hands up in a vain attempt to protect myself, and then I rolled to one side and tried to get away from the worst of the heat.

  Hearing loud, ominous creaking sounds all around, I stumbled to my feet. I could barely hear anything at all, other than a kind of high-pitched sound that seemed to be filling my ears, but I knew that I had to get away. I stumbled through the smoke, trying to get away from all the voices that were shouting nearby. Spotting an alley in the distance, I hurried that way, hoping to get away from the town square, but a moment later I was grabbed from behind and pulled back.

  I spun around, only to find a gun aimed straight at my face. Nearby, another house exploded. And that was when my knees buckled and I collapsed.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chloe

  When I opened my eyes, I found that I was in the back of a car. I stared straight up for a moment, before finally wincing as I tried to roll over.

  A voice next to me said something, and I turned to see that a soldier was sitting just a few feet away with a gun aimed at me.

  Still feeling extremely groggy, I forced myself up. Looking out the window, I found that night had fallen. I remembered nothing since the moment I'd tried to run away in the town, but there was a heavy, pulsing pain on the left side of my head. Outside, the stars were bright, but a moment later the car rounded a corner and I saw stronger lights ahead.

  “Where are we?” I whispered, although I felt a flickering pain in my head every time I spoke.

  “You don't recognize it?” the soldier asked nonchalantly.

  “I...”

  I blinked a couple of times, struggling to clear my blurred vision, but after a moment I was able to make out a large house in the distance. The place definitely looked familiar, but it took a few more seconds before I realized that I'd been there before.

  “Chateau Malafort,” I said, with a burst of fear in my chest as I realized that all my running had been for nothing. “I'm right back at Chateau Malafort.”

  ***

  Except that, this time, everything was different.

  Whereas before Chateau Malafort had been a bare, austere building, now there were lights everywhere. Fire pits burned all around us as the car pulled up, and I could already see that there were more lights blazing inside the house itself. It was as if the whole place had been given a dramatic, gothic makeover; it was as if a madman had moved in. A moment later the door next to me was opened, and a voice barked at me in German.

  Realizing that it was time to go, I climbed out of the car. My hands were cuffed in front of me, but I had no thoughts of running. Not anymore. I'd tried that once before, and all that had happened was that I'd led Zieghoff's men straight to a remote town. Now everyone there was dead, and the town itself had seemingly been destroyed, and I couldn't help but blame myself.

  “Move!”

  I was shoved hard in the back, and I stumbled forward across the grass. As I did so, I could already see several figures up ahead, and somehow I immediately recognized Zieghoff from his silhouette alone.

  “Chloe Carter,” he said, stepping toward me with a smile, “how nice to see you again. I do hope that your journey back here was at least moderately comfortable.”

  “I...”

  Before I could finish, I realized that something about Zieghoff seemed very different. Before, he'd seemed like a very calm, very by-the-books kind of guy, but now he was dressed in an extremely flamboyant red uniform that looked like nothing I'd ever seen in any history book. He was grinning, too, with a smile that didn't seem entirely natural. There were cuts on his face, no doubt from his encounter a few days earlier with Matthias, and a moment later I saw a spasm on his left cheek, as if he was in pain. It was his eyes, however, that were really different; it was his eyes that seemed to twitch with new-found madness.

  “Where is Matthias Bane?” he asked.

  “I don't know.”

  “You're lying.”

  “I honestly don't know,” I stammered. “He left when -”

  “Tell me!” he screamed, suddenly stepping toward me. “Where is he hiding?”

  “He left after we got away from here,” I explained, trying to not show too much fear. “As far as I know, he's far away by now and -”

  Suddenly he lashed out at me, and something hard and metallic hit my cheek and knocked me down to the ground. I gasped as I felt a sharp, burning pain on the side of my face, and then I turned and saw that Zieghoff was holding a pistol in one hand.

  I waited, but now he was glaring at me with a kind of burning anger in his eyes. I'd never seen him that way before, and it was as if he was much changed from our previous encounter. After a few seconds, however, he took a step back, and I could see that he'd somehow managed to contain his anger and hide it away. For a while, at least.

  “It doesn't matter,” he said finally, sounding a little breathless. “That doesn't matter, not now. I don't need him.” He hesitated. “I need you, however. You have something that I want, and you will deliver it to me.”

  “I'm not a witch,” I stammered, as the pain in my cheek became stronger.

  “Of course you're not a witch. I'm beyond all of that nonsense now. I know exactly what you are.”

  “I'm -”

  “You're nothing,” he added, interrupting me. “You're nobody. That's what you told me all along, and I realize now that you were telling the truth. I also realize that, if you're truly nobody, that makes you very interesting indeed. Because if a mere nobody can command the power of time travel itself, then that means this is a power that can be wielded by all.” He paused. “By me.”

  “I don't know how to do it,” I stammered.

  “I'm sure I can help you find a way,” he replied. “For now, you need to rest. You've undoubtedly been through a great deal, and you're of no use to me if you lack strength. That is why I have somebody waiting to help you. To heal you. You're sick, and you need someone who knows how to mend you.”

  “To torture me, you mean?”

  “So cynical,” he chuckled. “Where did you learn that?”

  “I can't help you,” I said. “I won't help you.”

  “Of course you will,” he purred. “Whether you want to or not.” He turned to one of the nearby guards and barked an order, before turning to me again. “You'll find that I'm really most reasonable,” he added, “so long as I get what I want.”

  Before I could reply, I was grabbed from behind and forced toward the chateau's main door. I cried out and tried to escape, but the guards were holding me too firmly and I was soon back inside the main building. I refused to stop struggling, however, and I continued to kick and punch until finally I was all the way back down in the basement area, at which point I was thrown through one of the doors and sent crashing t
o the floor.

  I immediately got to my feet, but I turned just as the door was slammed shut. It was in that moment that I realized I was right back in Doctor Loman's laboratory. I looked around and saw all the benches covered in equipment, but for a moment it seemed as if I was alone.

  “I don't know anything!” I called out, my voice trembling with fear. “You have to believe me, I don't know how to do any of this!”

  I stepped forward, glancing around at the various boxes and jars.

  “You have to believe me,” I continued. “I told the truth last time I was here and -”

  Stopping suddenly, I saw a pair of eyes staring out at me from inside one of the jars. For a moment, I couldn't quite understand what I saw seeing, and then I felt a wave of nausea as I realized that it was Doctor Loman's severed head suspended in some kind of light green liquid. After a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of movement in his eyes, as if somehow he was still alive in there, but I quickly told myself that I had to be imagining things. I had to be imagining that, at least.

  “I'm afraid Doctor Loman proved surplus to requirements,” a voice said behind me. “He was mildly useful as a test subject, but no more than that.”

  Turning, I saw a figure stepping out of the shadows.

  “Fortunately I was available at short notice to replace him,” Hugo said calmly. “Hello again, Chloe. It's good to see you. And I promise, Zieghoff and I have a very clear plan for you now.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chloe

  “What are you doing?” I gasped, hurrying after Hugo as he walked over to one of the tables and began fiddling with some equipment. “You can't seriously be working with Zieghoff!”

  “War sometimes results in strange alliances,” he replied, clearly avoiding eye contact with me. “Zieghoff made me an offer and I... accepted. There's really no need to get emotional about it. In fact, the whole thing is remarkably calm. There's nothing wrong with two individuals agreeing to the terms of a deal.”