“I’m not puritanical. It’s… for God’s sake, he’s sixteen. And she’s twenty-three or twenty-four. That’s illegal!”
“He isn’t sixteen,” Sorino said. “He’s probably older than you. You’re judging books by their covers, a dangerous thing to do in the world of immortals.”
With nothing to say, Katelina huffed away to join Jorick in the living room. She saw the same conversation in his eyes, and cut it off with, “I don’t want to talk about it. I do want to call the hospital, though.”
Oren let her use his phone. There were no changes in her mother’s condition. Katelina hung up, dejected, and listened as Oren explained where they could feed. “There’s tree land to the south, and fields. Both are rich in animal life. There are no humans for some miles.”
That was fine with Katelina. The animals made her feel guilty enough.
They fed and headed back inside. Xandria invited her to watch TV. To Katelina’s horror, Loren and Micah joined them. The teen looked as embarrassed as she felt, his eyes on the floor and cheeks pink. When someone knocked on the door he raced to answer it.
Thank God for the distraction.
A vampire with a long gray and black beard stood on the porch. He wore a button up shirt with suspenders. A shapeless felt hat was perched over a ponytail. Katelina recognized him as a former member of Oren’s coven. If only she could think of his name…
The newcomer gave a gruff cough. “Is Oren here?”
Loren blinked. “Um, yeah. I think he’s in the kitchen with Jorick and Etsuko.”
“Don’t just stand there, boy, go get ‘im!”
Loren scurried away and their visitor shoved inside. Micah moved to block him. “Who do you think you are, old man?”
“Someone who could knock you flat, boy. You look tough, but you’re barely more than a baby.”
Then Katelina remembered. “Baltheir.”
All eyes turned to her. “That’s who he is. Baltheir. He used to be in Oren’s coven—”
“Jesslynn’s,” the gruff vampire bit off.
She ignored him. “—Until the Executioners came. Then he split off on his own. He’s the one who arranged for Oren to buy this house.”
Baltheir peered at her over his bushy beard. “Who are you?”
“She’s Jorick’s pet,” Oren said as he strode into the room, Jorick on his heels. “I can only assume you’re the coven the Executioners needed to evacuate?”
“No, I ain’t,” Baltheir said grumpily. “I ain’t important to them and, as you well know, I don’t live in town. Though speakin’ of that coven, they’re comin’ to stay with me for a while. There was a redheaded fellow, mite tetched in the head if you ask me. It was his idea.”
Oren frowned. “You came all this way to tell me? You’d have done better to call.”
“I did call but I got your blasted messages. I mostly wanted to make sure you were all still here.” He broke off and eyed Jorick. “Won’t need to be bustin’ you outta jail again, will I?”
Jorick made an angry noise. Katelina cringed. When she’d introduced him to her mother, the police arrested him on suspicion of kidnapping. Being miles away, Oren had sent Baltheir to help them.
“You been in to see the town?” Baltheir asked. “You buy that guff about terrorists?”
“Not at all,” Jorick said.
“Me either. ‘Specially with all the vampires running around that night.”
Katelina drew up. Maybe Baltheir saw something?
Oren’s frown deepened. “You were there?”
“I was at the start. Patches,” he added, as if that meant something. “Course when things started gettin’ hairy, I skedaddled.”
“You didn’t mention that when I called you.”
“Nah, I didn’t have time to mess with a lengthy conversation, besides, you were only interested in makin’ sure I was in one piece, not wantin’ to hear what happened.”
“What happened, old man?” Micah demanded.
“You better learn some manners, boy, afore someone gives you a spankin’. As for what happened, I don’t rightly know all the specifics, just that there was a bunch of ‘em runnin’ around. Looked like they were led by a woman. Real pretty thing. She gave orders and the rest attacked.”
“We already know that,” Micah said.
“Then I guess ya’ know I got one of ‘em in my basement?”
Katelina jerked to her feet. “You captured one of them?”
“I wouldn’t say captured, missy. More like retrieved. Not much left of ‘im. He got caught in a collapsing building and they left ‘im for dead. He ain’t much more than a jabbering vegetable, seein’ as how he lost the top half of his head, brain an’ all.”
Katelina sagged. So much for getting information from him.
“If his brain’s gone, how is he still alive?” Xandria asked.
Oren explained with exaggerated patience, “To kill a vampire you need to destroy the heart.”
“Ah, poppycock,” Baltheir said. “I reckon there’s some of his brain left, or he wouldn’t be alive anymore, if you call his condition alive. But seein’ as how you’re a mind reader, I thought ya might like to take a stab at interrogating him.”
“You haven’t told the Executioners you have him?” Oren asked.
“No, I ain’t. That redhead didn’t even come in. So, ya wanna take a crack at ‘im or not?”
“Yes,” Jorick said quickly.
“Fine. Come on over when y’all are ready. Oren knows where my den is.” Baltheir turned for the door, then looked back. “Don’t bring that loudmouth with ya’.”
Micah growled. “Who you callin’ a loudmouth, you geezer?”
Baltheir strode out, pulling the door closed behind him.
Micah flipped him off after the fact, then stormed toward the kitchen, leaving a trail of obscenities.
Jorick looked to Oren. “Since you know where his den is, you can drive. Would you like to come, little one?”
“Obviously.” Katelina pushed her way through the group. “Hopefully, there’s enough left of his brain that we can figure out where they’ve gone and how to get Sarah and Estrilda away from them.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Oren muttered, but Katelina was determined to remain optimistic.
One of us needs to be.
Chapter Eight
As Baltheir said, he didn’t live “in town”. He wasn’t even near it. Oren’s giant blue car thumped over a potholed road that was more mule track than thoroughfare. With suspension from 1960, Katelina spent more time bouncing than sitting.
She was grateful when they parked in front of a small weather-worn house. Technically in decent shape, it needed a coat of paint and, in a year or two, a new roof. A smattering of small outbuildings said it was an old farm house, though from the size Katelina wondered if it was the farmer’s, or farmhand’s.
Baltheir threw the door open and motioned them into a small cramped living room. Three vampires sat on a worn couch and chair. Dressed in long robes with wide sleeves, they looked like something from a fantasy movie or ancient temple. Katelina could feel their years, like she could feel Brandle’s.
It was sad to think of vampires who’d lived hundreds of years stuck there. The room’s shabbiness went beyond the sofa and chair. Bookcases and half a dozen side tables were buried under piles of magazines and newspapers. A trash can overflowed with empty cat food cans.
Baltheir has a pet?
As if to claim the title, a fat black and white cat waddled in and fixed them with a baleful stare. Katelina stared back. It let out a meow before turning and disappearing the way it had come.
“Patches likes ya,” Baltheir announced.
Patches. That explained why he was in town during the attack: buying cat food.
“I’ll make the introductions.” Baltheir pointed to a thin vampire with short dark hair and a purple robe. “Gaius.” Then a blond with broad shoulders and a heavy jaw, whose robe was red. “Trefor.” Last he p
ointed to a brunette in a cobalt blue robe. He looked maybe nineteen, with high cheekbones and pretty features. “ Zander.”
Baltheir turned to his guests. “This is Jorick, Oren’s master, Oren, who lives yonder, and Jorick’s mate.”
The three seated vampires nodded, their gazes guarded.
“They’re here to take a look at the fella in the basement,” Baltheir explained.
“There’s not much to look at,” Gaius said.
“True, but Jorick and Oren are dream stealers. Who knows but they might find somethin’. It’s this way then.”
Baltheir clumped through a low doorway. As Katelina followed, she felt the gaze of the old ones. She glanced back to meet Zander’s sparkling eyes.
He really is quite beautiful.
She looked away quickly, afraid he’d heard the thought. As she moved through a small tiled kitchen, she realized he couldn’t have. If they were mind readers, Baltheir wouldn’t need Oren.
She tugged Jorick’s sleeve. “I thought all old vampires could read minds.”
“Of course not, little one. With age comes new talents. There’s no guarantee mind reading is one of them. However, mind readers tend to live longer, for obvious reasons, so there’s a higher percentage of them among ancients.”
They stopped in a utility porch where Baltheir opened a cellar door in the floor. The smell of earth and damp rolled up the stairs. It wasn’t the kind of place she’d want to be trapped, brainless or not.
They followed Baltheir down into a room dug from dirt. Katelina could sense the life in the basement. One, two, three, four, and more. She realized most were insects and earthworms; things crawling beneath the surface.
There was one life stronger than the others. She looked to the far corner of the room where an axe leaned. Something was heaped next to it and, as they drew closer, Katelina realized it was the vampire.
Or what was left of him.
A bloody t-shirt trailed away where he was missing from the waist down. One arm was stretched out, the other gone below the elbow. His head looked like someone had removed almost everything above his eyebrows. Vampirism had regrown the skin, but not the hair, leaving his misshapen head bald. His perfect facial features hung slack, his jaw open. His seemingly sightless eyes stared at nothing.
“I told ya there wasn’t much left,” Baltheir said.
“There might be enough.” Jorick stepped up. Katelina watched as he gazed thoughtfully at their subject. With nothing else to do, she thought it might be a good chance to practice. You couldn’t get much more open than a damaged brain, could you?
She looked into the vampire’s eyes and reached out, picturing Sarah and Estrilda. Her body tensed, waiting to drop into his memories.
Nothing happened.
Not to be deterred, she tried again. The vampire’s eyes went wide. He made a strangled, high-pitched noise, like a pig to slaughter. The sound turned into a scream as he writhed and slapped the floor with his good hand
Oren covered his ears. “Make it stop!”
“I’m trying!” Jorick shouted.
More animal than human, the shrieks sent goosebumps shivering up and down Katelina. She knew instinctively that it was the kind of horrible noise no one was ever meant to hear—it was wrong.
Like those soldiers knew that Samael was wrong.
The sound strangled off. Jorick stepped back, shaking his head. “Nothing but raw instincts. Fear.” He glanced at Katelina. “I’m surprised you didn’t drop into it, considering your usual sympathies.”
“I might have, if it hadn’t started screaming. The noise threw off my concentration.”
“We won’t gain anything from it,” Jorick said. “Best to kill it and be done.”
Baltheir grunted. “I was afraid of that.” He hefted the axe and swung the blade into the monster’s chest. Blood splattered. Katelina jumped back, arm up to protect herself. The damaged vampire’s eyes went wide. He wriggled, and slapped the dirt in time to his strange, pained squeals.
Baltheir swung a second time, sending out yet another splatter. The monster fell lifeless. “Better go get some bags, I reckon.” Their host headed upstairs.
Katelina peered at the gaping chest and the slowly spreading pool of scarlet. “I’d ask if that was necessary, but I know what you’d say.”
Jorick nodded. “I’m not sure it was sentient anymore. Death was merciful.”
Oren wiped his hands on his slacks. “I suggest we clean up, then head back to the den.”
“Unless Katelina wants to see her mother,” Jorick said.
“With all the roadblocks and human soldiers running around?” Oren asked. “Is it worth it?”
Jorick looked ready to snap back, but Katelina silenced him. “Oren is…” she couldn’t bring herself to say “right”, so she settled for, “The nurse told me there’s no change. If Mom wakes up they’ll call Verchiel, and he’ll call Sorino. Unless that happens, there’s no point in going.”
Oren tugged an invisible wrinkle from his shirt. “Yes. Well. See?”
Upstairs, they met Baltheir in the utility porch. He gave them quick directions to the bathroom where they could “wash up”. Oren shuffled Jorick in first, then Katelina went. Dots of blood stood out on her face and hands. Luckily they didn’t show up on her black sweatshirt.
When she exited, Jorick and Oren were already in the front room. Zander paced, hands behind his back, crystal eyes alight. “—we did nothing. For more than a hundred years this region has been our home, yet we sat by while this town was destroyed.”
Gaius shrugged. “It was not our fight.”
“The aftermath has rendered the town—our home—unlivable. How is it not our fight?”
Trefor didn’t look up from his magazine. “Next you’ll say we should have interfered with the other vampires.”
“Other vampires?” Oren asked.
Gaius motioned it away. “There’s a coven outside of town. They come and go at random, sometimes gone for months at a time. I don’t know anything about them, nor do I want to. They are younger than us, and not worth the effort.”
Oren and Jorick exchanged glances. “If you mean Claudius, that coven was disbanded.”
“Was it?” Gaius asked without interest. “There you are. They took care of themselves, as will the perpetrators of this attack.”
“And you trust to that?” Zander asked.
Gaius held up his hand. “As I’ve told you before, The Night Goddess scriptures are clear. ‘Leave each to their own’. ‘Do not interfere in another’s path of blood’.’ Look to your own—”
Night Goddess. It was a name Katelina’d heard before; a deity that vampires once worshipped. That the scriptures read anything except, “Kill. Sacrifice. Blood.” seemed unbelievable.
“Yes,” Zander said. “But do the scriptures not also warn against tyranny and barbarity?”
Gaius’ patience looked strained. “What tyranny do you see, brother? What barbarity?”
“You heard the explanation with your own ears, that one who calls herself Lilith—”
“Yes,” Gaius interrupted. “These young ones carry a story of Lilith who caused destruction to retrieve a prisoner. What business is it of ours?”
“It was not destruction for the sake of capture. Such things can be achieved easily. It was destruction rooted in malice, an act of war.”
“If what you say is true, it was done to pain Lilith’s prisoner, a lesson that all who aid her escape will be destroyed.”
“If I tried to teach you such a lesson, Gaius, by destroying Trefor’s quarters, would he not have the right of retribution?”
“Leave me out of your lunacy, brother,” Trefor said without looking up.
“Would he not?” Zander repeated. “If I set his bed aflame and destroyed those things he loves? Even if I did so to anger you?”
Gaius made an aggravated noise. “This is not the same.”
“How is it not? Our home was destroyed. My quarters burned. Heirloom
s from our master are gone. Treasures passed on for centuries are wasted, because the one they call Lilith wished to teach a lesson to another. Such is a declaration of war. Will you leave the challenge unanswered? Does not the Night Goddess teach against cowardice? ‘Answer a challenge with a challenge.’”
“You twist the words,” Gaius said. “I could answer back with, ‘Let not the concerns of others touch you.’ No doubt you could reply again, and I would find my rebuttal. Support for all arguments can be found within the Night Goddess scriptures, but as Master taught us, it is the spirit that matters.”
Zander stopped pacing to meet his brother’s eyes. “The spirit says that when war has been waged one must rise to meet it. Why else would the scriptures demand the training?”
Katelina tugged Jorick’s arm, her brain boggled. It was like listening to a pair of ministers argue, except it was a holy book she knew nothing about.
“What is your answer to the challenge?” Gaius asked.
“To meet her, on the field of battle, to recompense what was taken from us.”
Gaius replied with over patience, “Will her blood bring back our heirlooms? No. Will questing across the continent restore our dwelling? No. Blood answers blood. She has taken none from us.”
“What of the blood of our neighbors?”
Trefor scoffed. “You use the humans as a war banner? How quaint.”
“Are they not our humans?” Zander asked. “There are no other lords here, does that not make them our responsibility?”
Katelina coughed. Our humans?
“The world no longer moves that way,” Gaius said patiently. “Here the humans guard themselves and we—”
“Are we not charged with their care by the Goddess herself? ‘Keep well those who give you life, for without their blood you weaken and die. Protect them, watch over them, and defend them.’ Those words cannot be clearer, their spirit cannot be clearer. Lilith has attacked not only our home, but also those humans whom we should care for. There can be no other answer.”
Trefor noisily flipped a magazine page. “Do you really care, Zander, or is this an excuse for adventure? If you get your wish, we will not go with you.”
Goddess of Night (Amaranthine Book 9) Page 13