by Jack Conner
"Sit, my good man."
So Lavaca joined the meeting by the fire. The four talked for what seemed to Ruegger a long time. It was apparent that Kharker had taken an immediate liking to Harry, and he made a wide effort to include the mortal in conversation, an effort Harry indulged.
Despite all the werewolf's cruelties, Ruegger felt his judgments about Kilian thawing a little. Not enough to spare the bastard, should it come to that, but thawing nonetheless. Ruegger found himself thinking Kilian could've been him sixty years ago and reminded himself that all individuals had the power to change, if only they had the desire. Perhaps there was hope for the swine-killer yet—although, in all likelihood, the Darkling doubted Kilian would live long enough to exploit it.
About forty minutes into the gathering, a nightmarish figure appeared framed in the doorway. Harry gasped.
Human-shaped and human-clothed but with the erect head of a wolf, a cigarette dangled from the creature’s sharp-toothed smile.
"I'm hungry," Cloire announced, her lycanthropic lips forming the words perfectly. "Are we going to go on this goddamned Hunt or am I going to have to eat one of you fuckwads instead?"
* * *
Danielle joined them outside, where the catacombs met the fresh air and where the clearing between mansion and jungle was at its narrowest. She looked weary and distracted, so Ruegger went to her with his arms outstretched. She buried her face against his chest and clasped her hands behind his back.
"I love you," she whispered. "God, I love you."
He stroked her head, smelling the jungle and the sweat and the perfume in her hair, and told her that he loved her too. Catching him by surprise, she rose up on her toes and kissed him full on the lips, exerting a pressure and a passion in the motion that scared him. It seemed far too much like a good-bye. She tore herself away and wiped at her eyes .
"Rueg," she said, smiling.
He saw Kilian and Cloire leaning against the wall, both naked and wearing the heads of wolves. Their wolfen faces were strangely animated, smiling with bright mean eyes, tongues lolling happily from between needle-sharp teeth in anticipation of the blood to come. Cloire leaned over and licked Kilian on the shoulder; in return, he licked her under the left eye. They were holding hands.
Kharker, meanwhile, was taking off his robe and hanging it next to the other werewolves' on one of a row of pegs that sprouted from the wall. Now he, too, was in the flesh.
Harry Lavaca remained off to the side, looking disgusted. Ruegger couldn't blame him—but then Harry didn't feel the hunger, the need, that burned inside the immortals.
Ruegger and Danielle smiled at each other and began helping the other disrobe. When they too were naked and the clothes hung on pegs, they turned to Kharker, whose eyes sparkled contently behind the smoke of his cigar. Withdrawing it from his mouth, he gave a long whistle, and Gavin emerged from the catacombs.
"Are the prisoners ready?" asked the Hunter.
"They're ready.”
"Send them out."
Gavin bowed his head and disappeared back into the darkness of the catacombs, where Ruegger could hear a large number of humans murmuring and moving about. He could smell their fear.
The immortals arranged themselves on either side of the tunnel opening, so that their quarry would have to pass through a gauntlet on their way into the jungle.
Gavin issued a shout from within, and the humans streamed forth from the catacombs, a score or more, naked and muscled and lithe. Strangely, none of them were armed and Ruegger realized that this was supposed to be a slaughter, pure and simple. It was this that Kharker thought would bind his guests in friendship. Ruegger counted ten of the humans wearing the black collars that signaled that they were the murderers assigned to him and Danielle. Then the tide of flesh surged ungracefully into the jungle, vanishing but for their shouts and crashings.
Something moved off to his right. Ruegger observed Kilian and Cloire dropping to all fours, their bodies slipping from one form to another, becoming larger and more nightmarish than even the most hideous wolf. Still, in their own demonic way, they were beautiful. They glanced at each other once, then lifted their heads and loosed a howl of pure primal joy and dominance. They tore off after their prey, their bodies gleaming quicksilver under the moon, and disappeared into the suicidal tangle of the Congo.
Looking gray, Harry turned back toward the mansion.
Danielle squeezed Ruegger's hand. He searched for Kharker, but the Hunter was already gone, leaving only his still-smoking cigar behind on the ground, and Ruegger imagined that he could feel the old monster watching him from the forest.
"Let's go," Danielle said, and hand-in-hand they made their way to the jungle wall.
* * *
They were surrounded by the sounds of life and death all around them, vines and trees and endless undergrowth obscuring all but the nearest sights. As the vampires ran on and their bloodlust consumed them, they became increasingly swallowed by this lush world, the rest of the Earth receding to shadows. This is where it all began, thought Ruegger, in this land where everything is moist and deep and new.
He and Danielle chased the sounds and scents of fleeing humans through the green chaos, sometimes hand-in-hand and sometimes running separately, but always together, always in synch. To him it seemed that time was distorted here, that this place was some limbo where seconds couldn't be distinguished from years. He just ran and ran, sensing his murderous quarry in front of him and Danielle by his side.
In the distance, he could hear the screams of humans as Kilian and Cloire brought down their first victims. With them, the smell of blood exploded into the air, overwhelming the scent of vegetation.
Suddenly, he was running alone … and realized he'd been running alone for some time, chasing scents and sounds without regard to anything but sensation. He slowed, and knotted spires spun crazily above him. He stood perfectly still, listening for Danielle, but she was gone.
"Ruegger," he heard, and spun to face Kharker, sitting patiently nearby on the fallen corpse of a large tree.
"Danielle," Ruegger said, his mind not quite caught up with the situation.
"Don't worry, my son. She's off hunting. Alone. It won't kill you to let her be by herself for awhile. Or for you to be by yourself, for that matter.”
"I don't want to lose her, Kharker. Not here."
Kharker smiled. "You're not going to lose her. Just calm down. Breathe deeply."
Warily, Ruegger nodded. Where had Kharker come from?
The Hunter hopped easily off his perch, his agility making a lie of his aged appearance. "We haven't Hunted together in ... well, it's been forever,” he said.
"What do you want?"
Kharker looked pained. "What do you think I want, cub. To be with you, like we were before. To Hunt and to talk and to share one anothers’ lives. Simple, really. It's pretty much all I've ever wanted. I want us to enjoy life, and enjoy it together—in the way that only we can."
"And Jean-Pierre."
"I haven't forgotten him, Ruegger, don't worry. But the albino's heart belongs with Danielle, you know that. Even when he's with me, he thinks of her. You, on the other hand: you think of me ... even when you're with Danielle."
"I know you want that to believe that, Kharker, but ...”
"But?"
"I don't know." Ruegger grimaced, feeling the twitching of his fingers that told him it was time for a cigarette. He sighed. "We never finished it, did we?"
The Hunter smiled, faintly.
"No," he said. "We didn't. You left before it could run its course. There is, however, the possibility that it never would have."
"We did have something, didn't we?"
"Whatever the hell it was. It was the happiest time of my life. Enough words. Words are only symbols of what I want to convey to you, but symbols just aren't good enough. Come here, Ruegger. Taste my blood, just a few sips so that you can change like I can change, and we'll be wolves together, hunting."
&
nbsp; Ruegger hesitated.
"Don't worry," coaxed the Hunter. "We'll only feed off the ones with the black collars. But let's be about it quickly, before Cloire and Kilian kill them all."
The Darkling stepped forward and drank from the arm of his mentor and friend. The blood tasted hot against his lips and spurted refreshingly down his throat. A richness began to throb through his system like some hybrid of crystal meth and heroin, shooting through his veins and mind like hallucinogenic lightning.
"Jesus," he whispered, stumbling backward. "I’d forgotten how powerful you are.”
Kharker smiled. Surprising himself, Ruegger smiled back.
"Shall we began?" asked the Hunter.
Ruegger set off into the jungle with the old werewolf at his side, feeling the relentless energy burning in his limbs, his eyes wide and omniscient. Without conscious thought, he leapt to the ground and began running on all fours, a hungry happy beast with of tender humans wafting on the breeze. Bad humans, of course. It was important that the humans be bad, although right now Ruegger couldn't quite grasp what the reasoning behind that was. Meat was meat.
The humans fled before them, scattering like leaves at the immortals' advance. Through gullies and a stream, over little hills and beneath massive logs, the Hunt continued, Ruegger's human half fleeing further with every gleeful lunge.
When the bloodlust got too great, he kept up a steady mantra to preserve his identity: I am the Vampire Ruegger. I am the Vampire Ruegger. I am the Vampire Ruegger. I eat only those who deserve it.
He and Kharker drove through a thick mesh of bushes, flushing out several humans into a small clearing between giant trees. In less than a second, the wolves fell upon them, the beasts' heavily muscled weight and momentum knocking the mortals to the ground.
Ruegger's claws bore into the hard back of a black-collared man as his iron teeth closed around the human's neck, breaking it with a satisfyingly gruesome sound, blood spilling out, hot and copious.
With a growl, Ruegger began to feed.
* * *
Afterwards, Ruegger and Kharker rested in companionable silence. They could've left immediately to bring down another meal, but they chose to luxuriate in the kill and their rekindled brotherhood. Spattered with blood and picking at a chunk of flesh between his two front teeth, Ruegger smiled contentedly.
"I miss this.”
"Ah, so do I," said Kharker. “I wish this last few hours would repeat itself day in and day out for another millenium."
"I think I can see now why you're building the alligator swamp."
"That's just the start, my boy. Wait'll the zoo is completed; it's going to be something else!" With a sigh, he heaved himself to to his feet. "Well, my meal is settled now. Let's go after the next one, shall we."
Ruegger rose. "I think I'd better be making my way back to Danielle."
"That can wait for awhile, but the human retrieval units will be deployed in an hour or thereabouts, so we'd better make the most of this while we still can."
Ruegger hesitated. "Tempting, Khark. But Danielle's been acting strange. I'd think I'd better head back before she spends any more time with Cloire."
"Hold off on that for a little while, won't you? Your Danielle can take care of herself, but I think my stomach's starting to growl again."
"Well, I really—"
"Not just now, my son."
The Hunter motioned with his hands for Ruegger to come to him, so that they could begin hunting again, but Ruegger saw a flash of something guarded cross Kharker's face. All of a sudden he knew.
"Shit," said Ruegger. "You goddamned bastard. I can't believe you would do this to me. Damn you!"
He plowed back into the jungle.
"Please, Ruegger!" cried Kharker. "Let her go! For your own good, God damn it. Let her go!"
Ruegger ran, using the senses of the wolf still inside him to thread his way through the sultry tangle back toward the estate. Kharker followed immediately behind. Ruegger began to run, the trees and leaves and undergrowth raking his overheated body. Danielle, please, no.
He burst into the clearing that surrounded the mansion. Nothing.
He made his way through the catacombs and up into the house itself, running from room to room and calling out her name, but no one except for the Great White Hunter's servants made themselves visible to him. Not even Harry was around. In their room, Ruegger found that all of Danielle's things had been packed and bundled away. Over the din of his own heart, Ruegger finally heard the roaring.
Is that … ?
Ruegger bounded downstairs, past where Kharker waited, through the foyer, and the front door. From the front steps Ruegger saw the airfield some distance before him. There on the runway a little white plane gleamed in the moonlight.
"No, please no.”
The plane shot away down the narrow dirt strip. Vainly, he ran after it, waving his arms wildly.
"Danielle! Danielle!"
If she heard him, she didn't stop the plane on account of it. It kept going, faster and faster, until its propellers thrust it bodily into the gaping nighttime sky. Eventually, long after Ruegger had ceased his pursuit to collapse on the ground, the plane disappeared into the blackness.
When he was able to, he climbed to his feet slowly, his eyes still locked onto the portion of the sky into which Danielle had flown, as if she might change her mind and return.
Sensing Kharker behind him, he said, "So the Hunt was a ruse."
For awhile, Kharker remained silent.
"No," he said. "There was a ruse, of course, but that wasn't it. The ruse was Cloire and Kilian, so that they would take away Danielle."
"That's what you had to gain," Ruegger said, finally understanding. "I knew it was something."
"Yes," Kharker replied sadly, but the Darkling could hear the smile in his voice. "I had to gain something, all right: you."
Chapter 4
An alligator lunged at him against the bars, but Ruegger didn't back away. Like all the others, it was large and vicious; this one, however, seemed to want revenge for its imprisonment more than his brethren.
"I understand, buddy," muttered Ruegger.
Danielle had been gone three days, and he was worried for her. She’d been right, though, in feeling that Kharker would seek to recast Ruegger into the image of the Darkling. So far, Ruegger had successfully resisted his mentor’s attempts, and he had no fear that he would be tempted. Would Danielle fare as well?
Kharker's footsteps sounded behind him.
"Ah," said the Hunter. "He'll be the king of the swamp some day, won't he?"
"He'll be something, all right."
"What's bothering you?"
"Damnit, Kharker. I've been here three days. What do you think's bothering me?"
A pause. "You want to leave."
"Give that man a toaster."
"Don't be childish. This isn't a jail; you can leave whenever you want to."
"But you won't allow me to use one of your planes."
"If it's true love, you should be willing to stomp through the jungle for a few weeks. Or months."
"Stop it, Kharker."
Another pause. "It's time to finish up that game of chess from yesterday. It's almost over. Come on, then."
Ruegger waited a moment just to irritate him, then relented and came with him back inside the mansion and up into the Elephant Room, where they sat at a small table over an immaculately-carved stone chessboard. Kharker ordered in some Costa Rican coffee and Ruegger lit a cigarette.
"Well," he said, studying the chessboard. "Your experiment failed, Kharker."
"My experiment?"
"To see if, with Danielle gone, you could get me back into the fold. To see if you could make me evil again."
"Evil," said the Hunter, chewing the word. "What is that? Because, if you know, please tell me."
"You're evil, Kharker. I don’t normally use that word, but sometimes it’s appropriate."
"Am I? So the mirror should tel
l all, then. Let's explore that for a moment. If I am the definition for evil, then what is it exactly? Well, what am I? Let's see ... I've accepted my nature and I constantly revel in it. If there was a God, He would be proud that I utilize His gifts so fully. So that is what you mean, about evil?"
Ruegger didn’t back down. "Evil is taking joy in the pain of others. Or simply placing yourself so far above others that you’re indifferent to their pain."
Kharker, white, advanced a rook to a position guarded by a pawn, a move which put Ruegger's queen in jeopardy.
"No," said the Hunter. "Evil is just an obsolete label, a word without meaning. You know that as well as I do. If you argue against me, I won't be hearing your voice, I'll be hearing Danielle's. She's brainwashed you, man. Can't you see that?"
Carelessly, Ruegger thrust his queen to the left, protecting her from Kharker.
"She hasn't brainwashed me, Khark. You have. You've done it to yourself, too."
"Meaning?"
"That deep inside you don't really believe what you're saying."
The Hunter smiled sadly. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you, my son?"
Just as sadly, Ruegger nodded. "I would, Khark. I really would."
Suddenly the Hunter swung a bishop out from nowhere, and the Darkling saw that with his queen gone, his king—
"I believe that's checkmate," said Kharker.
Ruegger toppled his king.
"You should've kept your mind on the game, son,” Kharker said. “For the past few days, you've been in a fog."
"I don't need you to teach me how to play chess."
"No. You just need to keep your mind on the game. Anyway, what were we talking about?"
"Evil."
"I'm tired of talking about evil. This sort of philosophy is all hogwash, anyway. Hell, so is the rest of it."
Ruegger stubbed out his smoke. "I'm not done with talking about it, not yet."
"You want to change my mind?"
"Of course."
Kharker leaned back in his chair. "Then please, allow me to backtrack for a moment. You said that evil means taking pleasure in the pain of others. You take pleasure in the Hunt, don't you?"