by Sean Stone
She woke up with a startle. Bianca wasn’t in her room this time. She must not have screamed. Clara got dressed and left for work. The whole way there she didn’t stop thinking about her dream.
“I built a rapport with Richie. It would be more beneficial if you let me take this case,” Clara argued, but Phil was not going to be swayed. Reports had come in that vampires were fighting in the streets. SIT had already had to dispose of several vampire corpses that had been left behind for anybody to find. Rumour had it that Richie Morgan and Victor Redmane had had a disagreement but nobody would talk to SIT. Clara thought she was the best person to talk to Richie because he seemed to like her. Not just that but she also didn’t want to have to interrogate the disciples. She didn’t want to face Jamal. Especially not after her dream. Had it just been a dream or did it mean something more? Why did Nick always take her heart?
“Zander is handling the case. You have your own case to manage,” Phil said grumpily. He’d been off with Clara ever since she’d taken the promotion. Not much of a surprise really. “No amount of procrastination is going to get you out of it.” He’s cottoned on to her real motivation then.
“I’m not procrastinating,” Clara retorted.
“Then why aren’t you getting any information?” Phil asked pointedly.
“I interrogated James, didn’t I?” she said.
“And what did you learn?”
“He doesn’t know anything!” Clara said loudly. She’d known that he wouldn’t know much anyway, although she was quite sure he knew more than he’d told her. She was too scared to try stronger tactics, though.
“Lower your voice,” Phil said warningly. “Just because Sidney favours you does not mean that you can show me such a lack of respect.”
“I’m sorry,” Clara mumbled. “He doesn’t know anything, though.”
“Fair enough. So, move on to the next one.”
“I don’t know where to start,” admitted Clara. She was in way over her head. “I haven’t been trained for this sort of thing.” She knew basic interview techniques. Nothing of this calibre though.
“You shouldn’t have taken the promotion then,” said Phil. He returned his attention to his paperwork indicating that the discussion was over.
“Great help,” Clara mumbled and went for the door.
“James told you he spent the night with Kristen Dagmar, didn’t he?” Phil asked before she left.
“Yeah,” she replied. James had let it slip in his interview. He’d tried to gloss over it but Clara had already jotted it down.
“So interrogate her. Use their feelings as leverage. Threaten to hurt James if she doesn’t talk.” Phil looked away again and this time the conversation really was over. Clara left his office and headed for the holding cells wondering if she would be able to threaten one of the disciples. Just because they were locked up didn’t make them any less frightening.
To move Kristen, they dispersed a sleeping draught into the cage and then fixed iron hand cuffs to her wrists. When she woke up she was opposite Clara in the interview room. Clara watched her lift herself off the table and look around groggily. She was a small woman with a hard face. Despite her size she gave the impression that she could take on anyone in a fight and Clara knew that she could. Kristen flicked her hair out of her face and leaned back in the chair.
“I prefer this room to my last,” she said in a low smooth voice.
“It’s not permanent,” replied Clara. “I just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Just you, or are others listening in?” She nodded towards the two-way mirror on the wall to her left. Kegan was on the other side watching. The entire interview was also being taped for SIT records.
“Everyone’s watching,” Clara said, hoping that it would deter Kristen from getting any funny ideas. Not that she could do anything whilst the cuffs were on.
“Liar,” she sneered. “Am I the first you’re interviewing, or have others come before me?” Phil had instructed them to keep the glass cages blacked out so the occupants had no idea what was going on outside.
“I will be asking the questions,” Clara said as strongly as she could. It was odd; she’d walked in to a fight with Nick full of confidence but she couldn’t sit down in an interview room with his disciples. Maybe fighting was just easier than talking.
“Oh,” Kristen said. “By all means. Ask away.”
“How old are you?” Clara asked.
Kristen considered the question. “It’s hard to recall.”
“We know that Nick’s roughly six-hundred so you must be younger than that,” said Clara.
“Why must I? What’s to say I wasn’t immortal before he found me?” she asked.
“Were you?”
Kristen shrugged. “Hard to recall that either.”
“How did you meet Nick?”
“Well, I was in high school and he was the new kid. He was suspicious so I started digging up… No, wait, that’s the plot to The Vampire Diaries.”
Clara took a deep breath and continued. Perhaps a different subject would produce more results. “What do you know about ancients?”
“They’re very old.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Look, if you’re going to be difficult then I can always go and question James. I won’t be as nice to him, though,” said Clara in her best attempt at being menacing. It was obvious that it hadn’t worked when Kristen laughed raucously.
“Oh, good one. Even if I did believe you why would I care?” she asked through her laughter.
“Because you’re intimate.”
“Intimate,” she repeated the word as if it was the first time she’d heard it. “Intimate. Is that the sort of language you rich folk use? Is that how your daddy taught you describe fucking? Being intimate.”
“Don’t mention my father,” Clara snapped. She clenched her fist under the table. It wouldn’t do well to let Kristen see her anger.
“Touch a nerve, did I? You don’t like people talking about your daddy? Why’s that? Too painful? Don’t you like to think about how Nick killed him? I bet it must hurt thinking about dear old daddy falling all that way to his death.” Kristen tipped her head back and laughed some more. Clara saw red. She threw her hand out releasing a massive blast of magic. Kristen was ready. She whipped her wrist up and the magic hit the handcuffs and fizzled out. “Iron’s handy,” Kristen said. Then she jumped over the table and kicked Clara in the face. Clara’s chair tipped with her weight and she crashed to the floor. Kristen was on before she could get her bearings. She held the iron chain connecting her wrists across Clara’s throat and pushed. “Here’s a lesson your daddy should have taught you,” Kristen said as Clara felt her breath running out. “You can go to the zoo and look at the lions as much as you like. Wave through the bars. Throw food through if you like. Even try to make the lions roar.” Clara hit feebly at Kristen but she couldn’t make her move. Her eyes were bulging in her head, they felt like they might explode. “But one thing you never ever do is get in the cage with the lions. Do you know why? Because they will fucking—” The door felt open and there was deafening bang. The bullet tore threw Kristen’s head silencing her. Her eyes widened in surprise and she had time to look up at Kegan standing in the doorway, gun outstretched before she fell down dead.
Clara pulled herself to her feet and massaged her neck with her hand. She was shaking badly.
“You alright, boss?” Kegan asked. He holstered the gun.
“Yeah.” Clara nodded and tried to control her shaking. “Let’s get her back in her cage before she regenerates.”
1497 - Denmark
Nick and Jamal had been staying in Denmark for a week when the woman caught their eye. She was a small woman but something about her immediately ensnared Nick’s attention. Maybe it was the bold way she carried herself considering she was no more than a peasant. Or maybe it was the look in her eye. Grim determination mixed with pure hatred. Nick wanted to know
more. For the next several days they watched her. Everyday she travelled through the woods and everyday they followed. On the other side of the woods stood a cabin which Nick assumed she owned or was abandoned. Either way she was living in it. Not far from the cabin she was digging a hole.
“What do you think it is for?” Jamal said. Since Nick had found him twenty-four years ago he’d learned to speak English flawlessly but his Arabic accent was still strong.
“Well, it’s too big for vegetables,” Nick said.
“Do you think she is planning a murder?” Jamal asked.
“Perhaps. Let’s watch and see how this develops.”
A week later Kristen finally stopped digging and once she was gone Nick and Jamal approached for a closer look. The hole was at least twenty-feet deep and wide enough to hold a cabin of its own.
“If this is to be a grave then she’s planning on murdering a lot of people,” Nick said contemplatively. This woman was definitely a candidate for his group. Anyone that intrigued him made the list.
“The whole village it would seem.”
The following day they watched her approach a local tradesman and purchase something from his cart. Once she was gone Nick went to the shop to see what she had bought.
“A sleeping draught,” He told Jamal. “This woman is certainly intriguing.” She was almost certainly planning someone harm and he couldn’t wait to see who.
They enquired around the village and learned as much as they could about the woman. Her name was Kristen Dagmar. She’d lived in the village her whole life. She worked as a gardener to the duke’s household. A few years ago her husband had died of sickness and she’d been on her own ever since. The duke looked after and made sure that she did not end up homeless but his kindness only led to rumours of infidelity. Kristen had recently had a baby from an unknown man — most people believed it to be the duke’s. Sadly, the baby had died not long after birth. Kristen was not seen very much since then. Nick understood the desire to shut oneself away after such a terrible loss. What he understood even more was the desire to right a wrong or get revenge, both of which he had committed to.
A few days after she’d bought the draught they saw her. Nick was impressed to say the least. Kristen stopped the duke’s carriage using a log in the road. For a small woman she had a fair amount of strength in her. Felling a tree is no easy task and after the first hour he was sure she would have given up. He had been wrong.
When the duke’s men went to clear the road she sneaked up and stabbed them both in the neck. Then she climbed into the carriage and Nick could not see what happened. He assumed that she somehow force-fed the draught to the duke because she quickly emerged and drove the carriage away.
Nick and Jamal couldn’t keep up with the carriage but Nick knew where they would be heading. They teleported to the cabin on the other side of the woods and waited. Sure enough the carriage arrived an hour or so later. Kristen pulled the duke out using a rope which she had fastened around his neck. She led him like a dog over to the edge of the pit where she gave the rope a firm tug and he fell face first into the mud. Any resemblance to nobility was gone. His fine clothes were caked in filth and his hair was full of mud and looked like a bird’s nest.
“Please,” he begged in Danish. “If you have any love for me do not do this.”
“What is he saying?” Jamal asked. He hadn’t learned Danish yet.
“Just begging for his life,” Nick whispered. He didn’t want to miss a thing. It was better than any show he had seen.
Kristen snorted. “If I had any love for you then I would end your life now and be done with it.” Nick suddenly realised what the plan was. He was amazed at the appetite for revenge this woman seemed to have. The duke saw the pit for the first time and he must have realised what was going to happen too. He suddenly pulled on the rope and dragged Kristen in to the mud. He got up and made to run but she kicked his legs from under him and he landed next to her with a squelching thud.
“Should we intervene?” Jamal asked.
“Absolutely not,” Nick replied. It was like attending the theatre. You enjoy from your seat but you do not get involved. He never got involved until he had already decided to take somebody on. Until that moment everything was part of their trial. This was Kristen’s. Should she fail to defeat the duke then she would be unsuitable to join Nick and Jamal.
They scuffled in the mud for a bit. The duke managed to get the upper hand and straddled Kristen. “You filthy peasant whore!” he spat. His hands went to her throat and squeezed. Despite the troubling position she was in she acted with tremendous calm as though she had expected that turn of events. She pulled her knife from her sleeve and before he could stop her she jammed it into the side of his head. Blood trickled down his face and mingled with the mud. His mouth opened and he looked down in confusion. Then he fell off her.
“Did she kill him?”
Nick nodded. He didn’t speak because he was too confused. Kristen was now crying over his body. Nick had been sure that she hated the man. Why would she be so upset by his death. Unless, it had been love. She loved him but he rejected her so she planned to keep him a prisoner until she changed his mind. If that was the case then she could stay here with him. Nick had no time for obsessive women.
“I think its time we introduced ourselves,” Nick said. He strolled out of the trees, Jamal at his side.
“Miss Dagmar?” he asked politely in perfect Danish as he neared. She jumped up, the knife still in her hand and pointed at Nick.
“I didn’t mean to,’ she lied, wiping her tears away. The terror on her face was clear. This was a crime she would be executed for.
“No, I can see that. His death has caused you such distress. It intrigues me,” Nick said. “You know they will follow the tracks left by the carriage and they will find you out here.” Nick pointed at the royal carriage.
“Who are you two?” she asked. The knife was still up.
“My name is Nickolas Blackwood and this is my friend Jamal Rasul. We’ve been interested in your activities for some time.”
“Do you work for the duke?” she asked.
“No, no. Not at all. Why don’t I do you a service and then perhaps you will lower the knife,” Nick said. He waved his hand at the carriage and in an instant it burst into flames. In matter of seconds it was ashes in the mud.
“You’re a witch,” Kristen said accusatorially.
“A warlock, actually. Do you disapprove?” he asked. Another important question. He couldn’t abide judgemental people.
“I just killed a man. I’m in no position to disapprove of anything,” she replied.
“I like you, Kristen. I need to know what you intended for this man, though. Will you tell me that?” he asked.
“He got me with child. Then he waited until I gave birth and killed the babe. He said he couldn’t risk it ruining him. He already has a family to look after. And a name to uphold.”
“So you brought him here,” Nick prompted her to continue.
“I wanted to keep him here. In this pit. He would be my prisoner. The rest of his days would be lived in torment for what he did to my child. When his soldiers finally discovered us out here I was going to kill him the moment he thought he was being rescued.” She was so dastardly and yet so enticing.
“You would have been caught.”
“I would not have cared if only I could have caused him such suffering,” she said maliciously.
“I like you Kristen. You have fire in you. If you could have the power to do anything in the world what would it be?” Nick asked. It was the same question he asked everyone before he decided to recruit them. It was a question he’d asked over a hundred times since leaving Elysium. Only one person had answered satisfactorily and he was standing at Nick’s side.
“The power to bring back the dead,” she said without any hesitation.
Nick nodded. “I want you to join us. I will give you magic. I will give you eternal life. In return you will
work with us until our ultimate goal is complete. And I will give you what you want. You see, you and I want the same thing. We both want to bring the one we loved most back from the dead. When I have acquired the power to bring my love back I will also have the power you bring back yours,” Nick told her.
She shook her head. “You mistake me, Sir. I do not want my child back from the dead. He is at peace now. I want to bring him back from the dead.” She pointed at the lifeless body of the duke. “I am not done with him yet.”
Nick smiled. “Come. Let’s find you some magic. Bring the knife,” he said. Then the three of them walked away from the cabin side by side.
8
“That’s it you’re doing fine,” Eric told Natalie. She was writhing on the floor, shiny with sweat and red with agony. Her change had started over an hour ago. She was clearly trying to fight it despite his instructions to let it take place. She was only going to make it hurt more by resisting. His own change had tried to start about twenty minutes ago but he was holding it off for as long as he could so he could support her. They were in his usual clearing in the woods behind his house. Nobody else came to his clearing to change; it was forbidden.
“Shut the fuck up!” she screamed. He tried not to take offence.
“It’s just the pain making you act out,” he said in a soothing voice.
“No it’s not, it’s the bollocks coming out your mouth!” she yelled again. Her leg broke and he saw the bone twist into its new position.
“Just remember you will never feel pain like this after tonight. Each will get—” She cut him off by grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in close so their noses were touching.
“If you do not shut your stupid fucking mouth I will make sure you never feel pain like tonight!” she seethed and pushed him away. He let the rest of her change continue in silence. After half an hour watching struggle and then finally seeing her give up either from exhaustion or lack of will, he allowed his own change to occur and by the time he was finished she was too.