“So,” said Rufus with a quizzical lift of his brow, “in forbidding a relationship with me, you were trying to save Serafina from herself.”
Springer’s lip twitched. “Something like that, though I must admit to a fair degree of self-interest. Quite apart from the potential dangers, I haven’t the slightest desire to share such cramped quarters for weeks on end with a woman in the throes of heartbreak, and Serafina can be a trifle—intense, as I daresay you’ve noticed.”
Rufus had. Her passion was one of the things he particularly loved in her, but he said nothing of this to Springer. “I do love her, sir, in spite of—of what she is. I tried not to, but I can’t seem to help it. I can see your point about vampires and humans, and I’d never have wanted to hurt Serafina or put her in danger, but—but being a vampire myself...Serafina tells me it’s wonderful, yet she says you see it as a curse. I don’t know what to think!”
Springer nodded. “I do understand – probably more than you can imagine. Serafina and I were brought across in very different ways, and for very different reasons, and I dare say that’s coloured our views. If you think it might help, perhaps I can tell you something of how I was brought across.”
Rufus rubbed his brow as though to smooth away the frown lines gathered there. “Perhaps. I suppose so.”
“You really must learn to curb your enthusiasm,” Springer observed, the ironic gleam returning to his eyes.
Rufus gave a rueful grin. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to sound churlish, but I really have no idea what might help me at the moment. God! I suppose I’ll have to go hunting again, and I don’t know if I can face Serafina just yet.”
“Don’t worry,” Springer said. “The hunger won’t affect you so badly after the first time. After a while, you’ll even find you can defer feeding for several days if you need to, though I don’t advise making a habit of it. If you sup little and often, there’s less danger of accidentally killing someone.”
“What about Mr Howard? Is that why he died?”
“Mr…? Oh, you mean the elderly gentleman. That was my doing, I’m afraid. I regret his death more than I can tell you, and it certainly wasn’t intentional. I’ve always made it a point of honour to do as little harm as possible to those on whom I must feed. I can only assume he was already ill.” He looked at Rufus, noting his expression of distaste. “I share your abhorrence, Rufus. Unfortunately, regret is all that’s left to me now. Perhaps hearing my story will give you a little more understanding.”
“Yes, I think perhaps it might.”
“Very well, I’ll fetch a chair from the dining room. Even a vampire likes his creature comforts.”
Springer set his chair down against the cabin trunk, lowered his lean frame onto it, leaned back and stretched out his legs, which were long enough to span the space between his chair and the bed.
“I was brought over in fifteen-twenty-one,” he said, “but my story really begins two years before that. I was stationed with my regiment in Berlin, having been for many years a cavalry officer in the army of the Hapsburgs. When Charles the fifth inherited their lands and became Emperor, I felt I was too old, too set in my ways, to switch allegiance to a new master, so I took an honourable discharge. However, I soon had cause to regret my decision. I’d been a soldier since the age of sixteen, you see, and had never married. Not that I’d never wanted for female company – or male, for that matter, which I soon realised was my preference – but marriage and family were not something I’d ever wanted. I preferred a life of adventure.
“So there I was, alone in Berlin, no longer young, with no source of income other than my small army pension, and no skills but those of a soldier. For a time, I was able to live on my savings while I sought suitable employment, but it seemed my skills were not much in demand outside the military, and before long I was reduced to gambling in taverns to keep body and soul together.
“At some point, I fell in with a young Austrian called Stefan, whose dress and manner suggested high birth, although he followed the life of an adventurer. Since he appeared to have an endless supply of ready cash, I cultivated his friendship – rather more assiduously than does me credit, I must confess – and we soon became lovers.
“Through Stefan, I gained an entree into a better class of gambling establishment, and since I allowed myself to be more or less kept by my young lover, I managed to amass, if not a fortune, at least rather a tidy nest egg. Invested wisely, it soon afforded me quite a comfortable existence. But by now I’d become used to a more luxurious lifestyle. When Stefan’s father died and he inherited the family estates near Innsbruck, I followed him there, where, to the horror of the rest of his family, we maintained an extravagant – not to mention bohemian – court, attended by musicians, artists, alchemists, courtesans, and a variety of other hangers-on. It was a strange existence we led, sleeping by day, carousing by night, and a far cry from the austerity of the army. Indeed, I gradually became ill from excesses I was no doubt simply too old to sustain. To his credit, Stefan spared no expense in his efforts to return me to good health, but to no avail. To this day, I don’t know what ailed me, but I became chronically ill, at times virtually bedridden.
“There came into our lives a man who called himself Doktor Walther von Dunkel. Dunkel, I should tell you, is the German word for ‘dark’. He must have devised the name himself, for it’s not a name form that would normally exist in Germany. But it certainly suited him. Hair, eyes, clothes, everything about him was black, except for his face, which had the form and complexion of the recently dead. Indeed, he looked in need of a doctor himself. It was on account of his skill as an astrologer that he was invited to join our court, and he soon became a favourite, particularly with the ladies, whom he was careful to flatter with the charts he drew for them. Not long after he joined us, a mysterious wasting sickness began to afflict the court.”
Springer broke off with a sardonic grin at Rufus’s gasp. “I see you recognise the symptoms. As I said, Stefan was determined to find a cure for me, so when von Dunkel claimed that I, too, had the wasting sickness, and that he knew how to cure it, Stefan begged me to allow him to try his skills on me. By now, I felt I had little to lose save perhaps my life, and I wanted to please Stefan, so I agreed, though I found the doctor quite repulsive, without really knowing why.
“He came to me that evening and drew off some blood, claiming it was to relieve me of my fever. This left me very weak, but it did seem to reduce the fever somewhat. If I had misgivings, I stifled them for Stefan’s sake. So began a regimen of regular bloodletting. Stefan, because he wanted to, believed von Dunkel’s claims that I was recovering, and I didn’t have the heart to disillusion him. But I knew I was becoming weaker with every session of bleeding, and I fancied von Dunkel was taking more than he should, but by this time I was too weak to protest.
“Meanwhile, the wasting epidemic continued unabated. Most of its victims seemed to recover eventually, but there were a number of relapses, and one or two deaths. Still, untimely death was by no means uncommon in those days, so no one found it remarkable. Somehow, however, I couldn’t rid myself of the suspicion that it was in some way connected with the arrival of the doctor. As you can imagine, I had ample time for reflection on the subject, bedridden as I was.” Springer’s smile was devoid of humour. “One night, when von Dunkel had left with yet another bowl of my blood, I dragged myself out of bed and crept after him on legs unsteady from the blood loss. Fortunately, his room wasn’t far from mine. He closed the door after him and locked it, but he didn’t leave the key in the lock, so I was able to watch through the keyhole as he raised the bowl – the bowl containing blood still warm from my veins – to his lips, and drained it. In horror, I watched as he lowered the bowl, his lips still rimmed with its dark contents, on his face the look of a predatory animal sated – for now.
“I was, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, appalled. Had I had more religion left in me, or even a touch of superstition, I might have realised then what
von Dunkel was. As it was, after a life of fighting and killing, and generally living on my wits, I no longer had much in the way of beliefs of any kind. But I knew von Dunkel was evil, and I knew what I must do, both for my own sake and those of his other victims. My soldier’s weapons had long since been sold to buy food, but I did have a steel knife whose blade I kept well honed. Making my way back to my room, I placed it under my pillow and waited.
“A few nights later, von Dunkel appeared once more, bearing, as usual, a surgeon’s knife and a small bowl. As he bent over me, I summoned what little strength I could and grasped his wrist. Sheer determination must have lent me some force; his knife fell to the floor, clattering against the flagstones. At the same time, I pulled my knife out and held it to his throat.
“ ‘I know what you’re doing,’ I hissed through teeth clenched against fear and revulsion, ‘and I intend to stop you.’
“To my amazement, he merely knocked the knife out of his way, giving a mocking smile as he ran a thin finger along its sharp blade, apparently careless of injury. Then he bent to pick up his knife as though nothing had happened. After a moment of confusion, I took advantage of this, drew back my knife, and struck as hard as I could in my weakened state.
“But quick as I was, von Dunkel was quicker. Almost before I had made my move, he had my wrist in a grip so tight the knife fell from my fingers. With a strength that would have overcome the most hardened soldier, let alone one weakened by soft living and illness, he pinned me to the bed, his arm like an iron band across my throat. In the other hand he brandished the glinting surgical knife and sliced open a vein in my wrist. This time, he drank my blood in front of me, sipping it slowly as though it had been a particularly fine wine, mocking me all the while with his devilish smile. Only when the last drop had been drained, the last vestige licked from his lips, did he leave.
“It was clear to me now there was no way I could overcome von Dunkel physically, so I decided to denounce him, hoping Stefan and the others of his retinue might manage to overpower him. Stefan had left on a hunting trip five days previously. He’d been reluctant to leave me while I was ill, but I knew how he loved hunting, so I overcame his qualms. He was due to return at the end of the week – I would tell him then.
“In my fear and detestation of my tormentor, however, I made a fatal mistake.
“Perhaps I hoped to prevent his dreadful attentions. Perhaps I thought I could persuade him to flee, and leave us all in peace. Whatever my confused motives might have been, the next time von Dunkel came to me, as he bent over me I told him I had a plan for his downfall. Foolish, I know. Perhaps I just wanted to feel he didn’t have complete power over me. I could not have been more wrong.
“His eyes began to glow like smouldering embers. His thin lips drew back in a snarl, showing teeth suddenly sharp and wolf-like. But his voice, when he spoke, was as soft as a lady’s silken kerchief.
“ ‘In that case,’ he told me, ‘I have but one remedy.’ He placed his bowl on my bedside table, carefully laying the knife beside it.
“He bent over me, clamping his hand tightly over my mouth. ‘I cannot risk your alerting others,’ he murmured, ‘especially when the pain starts,’ though by then I was so terrified I doubt if I could have made a sound. I felt a sharp pricking sensation just above my collarbone, and I shuddered to my core as I realised he had bitten into me with those dreadful fangs to open a vein. I felt hot blood trickle down my neck. Then he laid his lips to the vein and began to suck out my blood. I was sick with horror, but I couldn’t move. Indeed, I could scarcely think as his mouth moved against my neck, making soft, suckling noises like a babe at its mother’s breast. Before long, I began to find it strangely sensual. I think this terrified me most of all.
“I had thought his plan must be to kill me by draining me entirely of blood, but at last it seemed he was done, and I was still alive, if only just. He sat up, the red glow in his eyes slowly subsiding. Blood – my blood! – reddened his mouth, trickling in slow rivulets down his chin. I stared up at him, too weak now to move, yet unable to drag my eyes away.
“ ‘A little more,’ he murmured, ‘and then it is your turn.’
“I still hadn’t grasped what he was about, but I was in no state to think about it. Once more he bent to the open vein in my throat and began to suck. Before long, I had all but lost consciousness.
“Through a haze of pain and nausea, I saw him pull back his sleeve to expose his right wrist. He bent over it for a moment. When he drew back, I saw dark blood welling up, but still I was mystified. Von Dunkel thrust his arm out close to my mouth and pinioned me with his black eyes.
“ ‘Drink!’ he commanded.
“My eyes widened in horror as I finally began to realise what he was. ‘No,’ I managed to whisper, ‘I will not!’
“ ‘Oh, but you will!’ His voice was little more than a whisper, but as cold and relentless as vengeance. ‘You must. It is the only way. If I make you as I am, then you cannot expose me without exposing yourself. And you know as well as I do that exposure means death at the stake, for you and your patron – preceded by torture, of course, for ‘tis common belief that we vampires are creatures of Satan. Now drink! Unless you want both yourself and your beloved Stefan burnt to death.’
“At his mention of Stefan, all my resolve fled. I’d come to love him with all my heart. How could I expose him to such a fate? For his sake, I must endure von Dunkel’s ghastly ritual. Holding me motionless in his cold, hypnotic gaze, the doctor bit his wrist once more to make the blood flow, and held it against my lips. I made a feeble attempt at sucking his blood, but I was very weak, and the mere thought of what I was doing froze me with dread. With a snarl of rage, von Dunkel stretched his arm out over the bowl on the bedside table. Together, we watched his blood drip into it, he with evident satisfaction, I through a haze of nausea.
“At length he must have judged he’d drawn enough, as he put his tongue to his wrist and licked at the vein. I stared in disbelief as the wound began to close over. In a matter of moments it had completely healed, leaving nothing more than a thin, red scar glaring against the pallor of his arm. Flicking his sleeve back into place with exaggerated fastidiousness, von Dunkel picked up the bowl of his blood, sniffing it as though savouring a nourishing broth.
“ ‘Now,’ he said, his voice as soft as water, but his eyes as cold and hard as ice. ‘You will die. But fear not, for you shall rise again from the dead, miraculously cured by the great Herr Doktor von Dunkel. And when you do, you will be as I am. You will be bound to me forever, blood of my blood, so you will no longer dare to harm me.’
“With his left hand, he took hold of my hair and wrenched my head back so that my mouth was forced open. He shoved the bowl against my lips and tipped its contents down my throat. I spluttered at the salty, metallic tang of it, coughing as I breathed the ghastly liquid into my lungs. Drops of it splattered von Dunkel’s face and hands. I watched in disgust as he lapped the stuff up, licking his lips with apparent relish. However, enough must have made its way down my gullet, as von Dunkel put the bowl down and let go of me. I must have fallen unconscious then, because the last thing I remembered was a wish for death to take me.
“When I awoke, von Dunkel was gone. I had no idea how much time had passed, though I think it was still the same night. The first thing I noticed was that I no longer felt weak and ill. Instead, I was infused with a sense of well being I’d not felt since leaving the army. I realised I’d merely been drifting since then. Now, for the first time in years, I felt completely, totally alive, though I had no idea why. Everything I looked at seemed sharper, richer, more colourful than before. I could hear sounds previously inaudible: the faint sighing of the wind outside, the movement of a bird’s wings as it flew by, a mouse scurrying somewhere overhead, the beating of the hearts of folk asleep in other rooms of the castle. I could hear my own blood – or rather, von Dunkel’s blood – coursing through my veins. The candle that had been burning by my bedside had
gone out, but I had no need of it. Like a cat, I could see as clearly as if it were day.
“For a time I just lay there, taking it all in, trying out my new senses. Then I became aware of another sensation welling up from deep within me. At first I didn’t recognise it. I’d never experienced such a hunger before, not even on campaign, when we sometimes went for days at a time without food. This was a hunger not just of the stomach, but of the very soul and being. It was like a longing – a feeling that some part of me had been torn out and I must replace it at all costs. I’d never felt the like – not even when Stefan was away for great lengths of time, as he sometimes was. At that moment, I began to comprehend what von Dunkel had done to me. I felt sick with horror.
“But that awful hunger would not be denied, so I got up from my bed, and like a wild animal I went hunting.
“I padded silently along the dark corridors, instinctively sniffing the air like an animal, listening to the beating of hearts until I felt myself drawn to one in particular. I listened at the door of the room, hearing only the steady breathing of the one within. Slowly, I turned the door handle, pushed the door open and crept in. The area of floor I must cross to the curtained bed seemed immense. I was terrified that its occupant would wake and raise the alarm, and still more terrified at the hideous act I was about to perform. Yet the hunger drove me on. I drew back the curtain and was relieved to find the bed occupied by a man I didn’t recognise. Mercifully, he had his head turned away from me so I was not obliged to look at the face of my victim. His cry of pain as I bit into the vein at the base of his neck was bad enough. Despite my deep revulsion – not to mention inexperience – I set about satisfying my hunger as best I might. To my amazement, it quickly became an act of extreme sensuality, as though I were drinking in life itself in all its rich beauty. By the time I left the gentleman, dawn was almost breaking and an immense weariness overcame me. I barely managed to drag myself back to my bed to sleep through the day.”
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