Shaking off his longing, Drew stepped out of the shadows. Jenda gave him a half smile and asked, “So where do we start?”
“We should go to the area near the park where Matteo found you. Nicholi is an impressive tracker. He will start there and follow the same path the other day walker took. It will be a slower progress for them than it will be for us. We are more familiar with our friends’ scents and they will be less difficult to follow.”
They moved through the night in silence. The cool air brushed against Jenda’s skin and reminded her once more of her strange new state of being. She no longer shivered in the cold because her own body no longer lived. The realization of her lifeless state rarely bothered her. She had little time to dwell on such matters, but in the quiet night, walking through Budapest Park, she couldn’t drive the thoughts away. Being stabbed in the heart, cut open, put back together, and healed within hours was as unnatural as it got. Thankfully, they reached the spot where the attack happened and Jenda could focus on other things.
Drew crouched near the place where she fell. “Vampires, by nature, are light-footed beings, who attempt to leave as little psychic or physical impression as possible. Lucky for us there are too many of our friends to make such a feat possible.”
Jenda nodded in understanding as Drew looked around him, eyes narrowed to take in the smallest clue as to which way the others had traveled. He stooped and ran his hand over the broken stems of a nearby plant. Glancing up at Jenda, he asked, “Are you ready? We must move quickly to catch up with them.”
Jenda reached behind her and tightened the band in her hair before nodding. Almost faster than her eyes could follow, Drew was off. They darted through the trees and across the park in lightning-fast motion, spooking the woodland creatures so that they scurried away in startled fear. Exiting the park, they took to the rooftops where they slowed their pace.
The close-knit living system in Budapest made leaping from building to building the easiest way to move at a high rate of speed without notice. Higher above the dirty streets, the city below her seemed sweeter. The night air, the nearly full moon, and the endless lights would have been picturesque if not for the fear and sense of urgency that clouded Jenda’s every thought.
Drew paused several times to check his direction and they circled back once where it seemed the group had lost the trail. Jenda wondered how the witches were keeping up with the vampires at such a rate and through such odd means. It did not take long for her to discover the answer to her question. Just as they prepared to cross the bridge over the Danube River, Drew stopped and motioned for her to come close to him. Pointing across the street to a black sedan, he whispered, “Do you see a few of our friends?”
The vampires were moving about the city tracking Augustine while the witches waited for directions. Jenda nearly giggled at the idea of the majestic powerful creatures cooped up in the backseat of a car. “They must be using cell phones or perhaps Tobias to give the witches coordinates.”
Drew grimaced, “That one sometimes gives me the creeps with his mind link thing. I hate when he does that. The other day, I was reading more vampire drivel by Shebat Legion. I love the woman’s name but her Vampire Therapy stories are so full of humanity. A real vampire really should think of writing a book. Anyway, I’m in the middle of the book and suddenly, pop, his voice is in my head.”
Jenda muffled her laughter with her hand and elbowed Drew in a friendly manner. “Okay, be serious. Do we wait here or try to find the others?”
“I am assuming you do not want to be discovered, so we wait. The others will not attempt an attack without the witches. They know this Augustine is both old in the blood and very strong. They will want to have all the odds on their side.”
The two of them settled into the shadows of a nearby building to watch and wait. The need for action gnawed at Jenda’s nerves. She found herself fidgeting and worrying more and more as the time passed. Gnawing at her fingernails, a trait she had lost after the change, she realized that she feared for Soborgne more than ever. Knowing her best friend’s life was in the hands of Belle’s mad creator and possibly endangered by a tribe of revengeful witches and vampires made Jenda feel as if she weren’t doing enough.
Drew tried valiantly to draw her into conversation, asking questions about music, art, and anything non-substantial. When it didn’t seem to help, he offered words of comfort. “Jenda, I know you don’t know me but I am a friend. I can see you have things weighing on your mind. If you need someone to talk to, I am here and we have nothing but time.”
Jenda opened her mouth to deny her preoccupation but somehow the words changed. She told him the entire story of her visit to the astral plane and Belle’s words. She wept loudly, forgetting that she shouldn’t draw attention to herself, when she told him that Belle expected her to murder Augustine. “I want to kill him. Everything inside me wants to punish him for what he has done to Soborgne. Yet, I fear that I will be like her. I couldn’t stand to be like that woman.”
Drew listened as she ranted, loving the way her mouth pouted and her eyes blazed as she grew agitated with her story. When the tears spilled down her cheeks, he wanted to kiss them away. Instead of doing all the things he wanted, he simply gave her a slight nudge with his shoulder and told her what he thought would help. “Jenda, you are good to the core. You can never be like that woman.”
Jenda stared at him with scrutiny for a moment before continuing. She denied the longing look in his eyes and the way his lean body pivoted toward her. “I know what I have to do. I know I must wrestle Soborgne’s mind, body, and heart back. I also must find the book, which Belle says is wherever we find Soborgne. If I have to kill Augustine to do either of those things, I will. I am afraid of the darkness, though. I don’t want to be like Sobo. I don’t want to be a slave to something or someone.”
Drew couldn’t resist the desire any longer. Her vulnerability drew on his passions as both man and beast. He reached out and trailed a finger across her cheekbone, catching a tear before it could finish its journey down her flawless face. Jenda jumped and moved to put space between them, leaving the rest of her story untold.
Her voice was filled with false nonchalance as she turned her head to look up the street. “I wonder how much longer it will be. I feel if we have been waiting for hours.”
7
Soborgne’s eyes opened in the dark room. She could feel the weight of Augustine’s arm around her. She thought of her dreams of Andras and shivered despite the heavy quilt that covered her. Her mind churned over her situation. The demon would have her as his bride. The vampire beside her in the bed would have her destroy the world. It seemed she could only follow her heart because her mind did not appreciate either choice presented.
The conversation between her and Augustine had lasted almost the entire night. He had begged her to understand. He had pleaded his case all while pacing, kneeling to beg, and running his hands through his hair in frustration. He had reminded her that no one else trusted or loved her any longer. His words had been built to tear away her resistance.
The wounds in her heart, caused by the judgment she bore at Vajdahunyad, had bled. Augustine had made her recall the look on Jenda’s face on the night that the Dracul had attacked Vajdahunyad. Soborgne had hung her head and hid behind the curtain of raven hair as she wept. Facing the fact that even Jenda feared the darkness growing inside her had hurt more than anything else. She wanted nothing more than to speak to her best friend.
The hour had grown late and her heart had become heavy; Augustine had finally succeeded in making her give in. She had not agreed to be the Dracul’s pawn, and Augustine’s doggish loyalty to the vampire order had disgusted her no less. However, she had forgiven his digressions and had sworn to consider what he asked of her. She could not deny her love for him. A bond greater than anything she had ever known tied their hearts together.
When she had begun to weep again, he had taken her in his arms. She let her body take over and shut her
mind and heart away. His lips and hands had helped her to shed her worries as they also helped her shed her clothing. The two of them had tumbled into his large bed and found their way between the silk sheets. The passion and sweetness had erased her fears, at least until she had fallen asleep.
The dreams had wrecked her peaceful happiness but they had shown her the way out. She knew there would come a day when she would face Andras. She only hoped she could follow her vision and slay him. Even if it meant her own death, it would save the world from the Dracul and the demons. Her reasoning stood on one fact. The prophecy could not be fulfilled if the Child of Lilith no longer lived.
Augustine snuggled his face into the back of her neck and gently kissed the curve of her shoulder. “I see that you are awake my muguet.”
Soborgne felt an urgent need to gain space. His affection was an overwhelming thing. She slid from the covers and crossed the room. Augustine’s eyes followed her with obvious satisfaction. He loved seeing her naked limbs moving with grace.
Soborgne tried to keep the irritation from her voice as she asked, “What does muguet mean?”
Augustine stood from the bed and crossed the room. Comfortable with his body, he took no measure to cover himself. The powerful muscles in his torso and limbs moved with animalistic strength and poise as he approached her. His large hands gripped her arms and turned her until she was no longer facing him. Soborgne felt a jolt of fear tied to the electric shiver that ran through her blood.
Lifting her long dark hair with one hand, Augustine trailed the other down her spine. “It is French for Lily of the Valley. That is what you are; a beautiful and tempting flower from the very garden of life.”
An image of a valley filled with demons and a red sky flickered through Soborgne’s mind and she turned to lay her head on Augustine’s chest. Her lower lip quivered provocatively as she fought against her desire to cry. Deadening images snaked through her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to fight them off. She weighed her choices once more. She would be a pawn or a martyr; neither was her way. Calculating her steps, she raised her eyes to meet his.
“I love you.” Her words were more sensual than any caress and Augustine looked pleased. She stood on tiptoe, her flesh brushing his, her eyes never leaving the smug smile on his lips. He bent his head and their mouths met in a fervent mesh. She kindled the fire burning between them with gentle probes of her tongue. Once their passion turned to a hot flame, her teeth grazed his lip.
Augustine pulled back, his eyes searching hers, full of suspicion. “It seems someone wants to play rough this morning.”
Soborgne hid her thoughts well. Ducking her head, her black hair cascaded in front of her face. She pretended her brazenness was a cause of embarrassment. Topping the act off with a girlish laugh she said, “It’s your fault. You bring out the worst in me.”
Seeing no calculated intent in her reply or actions, Augustine scooped her up into his arms. His voice was heady with passion. “I’d say it’s the best in you.”
Soborgne squirmed against him in a playful attempt to escape his embrace. “No. No. Put me down. I need a shower and something to eat before we do anymore of that.”
Looking slightly disappointed, Augustine placed her back on her own two feet. He held her in his arms for a moment longer before he shrugged into a pair of jeans and headed for the kitchen.
Alone at last, Soborgne took a moment to savor the last tingling burn of his blood in her mouth. She tasted the truth on his lips, quite literally. He meant it when he had said he loved her, had said he would protect her, and had promised he would not force her to destroy the world. However, Soborgne knew his intentions could change. If the Dracul insisted, he would obey. He was a slave to his own loyalty.
Soborgne lingered in the shower, letting the scalding water bead off her hard white skin. Since becoming a vampire, nothing felt the same. While she was less sensitive to normal things like cold and hot, she became much more attuned to the sensation of touch and the sight of colors. The steam billowing up from the shower floor enthralled her. When she stared at it with the intention of really seeing nothing else, it was not a foggy cloud but billions of tiny droplets of water clinging to the air.
The temperature of the water began to turn cold and the steam lessened, forcing Soborgne from the tub. She knew Augustine would be waiting for her, glass of blood in hand. Proving to be the pampering sort, during the short time they had spent together, he constantly gave her whatever things and niceties he could. His doting seemed to be part of his true nature.
Unlike the young humans she had once played with, he never came across as needy or clingy in his actions. He genuinely wanted to give her whatever he felt she deserved. Yet, she felt smothered. She missed Jenda and she couldn’t shake the feeling she didn’t belong at Augustine’s side, despite her love for him. Her doubt left a black cloud hanging over her heart.
As predicted, he sat on the edge of the bed, two glasses of thick red liquid on the table beside him. He looked worried, his movements tense. His smile, as he handed her a drink with shaking hands, seemed forced. Soborgne eyed him curiously before taking a deep drought from her glass. When Augustine said nothing, she pried.
“Okay, what’s up? You looked pissed or something.” Her flippant tone hid the real concern burning in her mind.
Guilt marred his features and Augustine phrased his words carefully, gauging her reaction. “Mellich, the leader of the Dracul, has summoned me. I am to escort you there tonight.”
Soborgne stared at him as if he were crazy for a long moment. Finally, the silence between them shattered along with the crystal glass she drank from. She flung it, still full of blood, against the wall. Red liquid splattered across the lush carpet and stained the cream-colored wall as the tiny shards of glass fell to the floor. “Puppet!” Soborgne sneered. “You are nothing but a lapdog, a pretty freaking poodle.”
His voice held a tone of warning. “Soborgne, stop acting like a spoiled child. You knew this was coming.”
Silence followed his statement but the inky blackness of Soborgne’s eyes foretold the storm inside her. Augustine went to her without fear. “Darling, come now, it’s only a dinner party.” Wrapping his arms gently around her, he continued. “Afterward, we will go out. We can do whatever you like.”
His lips grazed the back of her neck and the icy chill of his breath tipped the scales. Soborgne let herself lean into his arms. She could feel the electrical buzz, though it was growing fainter with each hour she spent near him. “I don’t like this. Something feels wrong.”
“I will never let anyone hurt you.” He meant to offer comfort but fell desperately short of easing her trepidations.
8
The car turned on its lights and began to move into the traffic. Grabbing Drew by the arm, Jenda darted forward. She anxiously searched the bridge and line of traffic for a way to follow the witches across the Danube on foot without notice. “Come on, they’re moving. Matteo must have found Augustine.”
Drew franticly flagged down a taxi, just as the taillights of the witches’ car began to blend into traffic. He jerked Jenda in behind him and, as she slid into the seat, he barked at the driver to cross the Apra Bridge. Jenda urged the driver to hurry as she leaned forward between the seats, desperate not to lose their only means of tracking the others.
Drew’s voice broke through her rapid speech. “Calm down. You are frightening the man.” His pointed look towards the driver gave Jenda pause. Remembering too late that humans could sense the wrongness in her, she quieted.
Drew leaned forward and shoved a handful of bills at the man. Using hand signals and bits of the native language, he conveyed his wish to stay within sight of the black sedan already speeding ahead of them. The cabbie may not have understood much of Drew’s broken Hungarian but he clearly understood a fist full of cash. Weaving dangerously in and out of traffic at close intervals to large trucks and tiny cars, they found themselves close enough to see the witches’ car clear
ly.
At the end of the bridge leading into Buda, the witches turned left and headed into the Third District. Jenda and Drew followed, hidden in the throngs of drivers until the black sedan turned off onto a residential street. The traffic began to decrease and the ugly multi-colored high-rise apartments gave way to smaller homes. Fearing the witches would notice them trailing close behind, Drew signaled the cabbie to pull over.
They followed their target on foot, blending into the night and the shadows with speed and agility. The quiet suburbs offered less chance of discovery but made them all the more obvious to anyone who might chance to see them. As they leaped over fences and scurried along hedges, the trail led Jenda and Drew away from the crowded city center. The adrenaline pumped through Jenda’s body and pushed her to run faster and leap farther each time the car pulled away from them.
At last, the car slowed to a stop in front of a white bungalow. Drew slid to a halt, yanking Jenda down by the front of her T-shirt until she knelt beside him in the bushes. Her eyes peered through the night, searching. No lights burned from within the structure but the well-manicured lawn and cozy curtains on the windows spoke of inhabitants. The house seemed too human and normal to be the place her friend had gone to revel in darkness.
Fearing discovery, Jenda withheld the temptation to send out her extra sense and seek out Matteo or Soborgne. Instead, she listened carefully, trying to hear the witches’ words as they began to spread out around the house. Drew laid a precautionary hand on her arm and shook his head as Jenda attempted to inch forward. She glared at him for a moment before turning back toward the house. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him at last.
Matteo’s familiar form appeared on the edge of the shadowy drive. Jenda could see the tension in his body by the straightness of his back and the swift but rigid way he took each step. He bent his head toward the small Asian vampire and spoke. Jenda wanted to scream in frustration when she could not hear the words. She almost left her hiding spot to confront them but her instincts told her to be still and wait.
Requiem of Humanity Page 48