The Vampire Gift 6: Secrets of Hope
Page 22
When I reach it again, I discover the others panicking. They’re calling for their friend, rifles in hand. They shine lights into the woods around them to try to find out where he went.
“He is not coming back,” I say, my voice reverberating deeply through the night.
Immediately, a rain of bullets come at me. I dive out of the way, taking cover behind an exposed boulder.
I press my back against the rock, then bring a hand to my shoulder. I dab my fingers against the skin, then regard them.
There’s blood.
I growl. One bullet hit. With my claws extended, I pull it out, then watch as the wound heals before my eyes.
Then I go at the mercenaries with full force.
I dance through the pathetic defense they put up and grab the first by the neck. With my free hand I slit his throat, catch him as he falls, and press my mouth to the wound. Hot blood pours into my mouth. I swallow it all.
The other man watches, shocked and terrified. He’s so frightened, he doesn’t move. When I turn my head to look up at him, he starts fumbling with his gun, trying to point it at me…
Casually, I let the body drop. Then I jump up and rip the rifle out of his hands.
“You shot me,” I whisper. “For that, you die.”
Wild terror flares in his eyes. He tries reaching for the hunting knife on his belt.
I catch his wrist and break it. It gives with a satisfying crunch.
“Pathetic,” I sneer, then I drop my shoulder and barrel into him, knocking him to the ground. My fangs incise into his neck. He struggles against me, of course, but he’s no match.
As I drain his blood, I feel my body being restored. His vitality is now mine, coupled with that of his two friends. It energizes me. It makes me feel alive!
I tip my head back and roar with laughter, full of the glory of life, as blood from his artery steams down my front.
This is what it means to be alive!
But then, for whatever reason, a dizziness takes me. I try to stand and stumble, uncharacteristically off-balance. I grab onto a pole from one of the tents for support until the fit passes.
When it does, I blink in confusion. I try to make sense of things. I take stock of my body…
And realize that it feels as if I only drank half the blood I already did. Maybe less. Maybe a third. Maybe a quarter!
A sickness develops right in my stomach. I keel over and dry-heave as my body rejects the blood I took.
What the hell is going on?
Eventually, the gagging stops. I’m still a bit dizzy. Definitely light-headed.
I’ve never experienced these sensations as a vampire.
I crane my neck up and look to the top of the mountain. The Crypts’ outpost is somewhere up there.
If my coven’s vampires are so close, why were these humans left alone?
All sorts of poisonous thoughts drift through my head. Maybe their blood was tainted somehow. Maybe they were kept here by the very vampires who control this mountain. As a decoy, as a temptation, to any wandering vampires who happen to pass by.
Gruffly, I shake my head. No, that’s impossible. That’s beyond ludicrous. It’s downright paranoid! We have no powers that would compel humans to stay.
Unless one of the lead vampires here revealed himself and struck an actual deal with the humans…
My eyes scan the campsite. The dirt is soft, not trampled. The tents they erected are in good shape. It tells me they’ve only been put up recently.
That means the humans have not been here very long. Tonight may have been their first night. Otherwise, there’d be more signs of settlement. The scent of their human presence would be stronger on the wind.
And tainted blood? Am I being serious? The only sort of blood that can be considered “tainted” might come from a demon. If that.
Blood from a normal creature of this Earth has never been known to weaken a vampire.
And if it had been tainted, I would have noticed something wrong during the feedings. After all, that is when the most intimate link is established between a vampire and his prey.
The only other conclusion I can reach is too gruesome to think about.
But… I did not get this far in life by burying my head beneath the sand and ignoring reality.
The other conclusion… is that The Ancient’s blood was not enough, and somehow, that demon venom is still wrecking my body.
Which means I left The Crypts too soon.
Growling, I push off. Most of my strength is back. I am energized by the blood I took. Not as much as I should be… but it’s still something.
So be it. I have to go to the vampires at the outpost and solicit their help. Help finding Beatrice, help finding Riyu. If they’ve been in communication with The Crypts—which, by now, I’m sure they have—they’ll be able to relay my location back to the coven and tell Logan that I did not simply abandon.
Better for him to receive the information second-hand. He has abilities unique to any vampire. If he grilled me about Riyu, and I lied to him directly, he’d see through the false words without pause.
I remember the way he treated his son, James, at their first encounter. The King told him he could see into his heart and discover the truth of his motives.
It seemed to scare the kid. Of course, I knew that to be one of the King’s unique powers, probably as an evolution of the Mind Gift.
My footsteps are not quite as certain as I go through the first lines of trees. But as I climb farther and farther up, with the moonlight shining down on my back, my confidence starts to return to me.
I touch the empty spot over my shoulder where my two-handed sword would hang. A shame I did not take it. But it would only slow me down. And, besides, if I intend to go into human civilization to look for Beatrice, or even to find Riyu, the weapon would attract all sorts of unnecessary attention.
Best be hidden, best stick to the dark spots, especially for one as big as I am.
I reach the apex of the mountain and see an opening leading into the rock. I smile.
The outpost.
I do a cursory scan of vampires in the vicinity and discover a bunch inside. None are very strong, which suits me just fine.
Very easy to assume command through the hierarchy that way.
I bust in, making every effort to attract as much attention to my entrance as possible. I discover a half-dozen vampires are playing dice in a circle in the middle of the room. They leap up as soon as I’m in view. When they recognize me, they all give the appropriate salute.
I acknowledge it, as is proper, and say, “At rest, men.”
Their rigid stances relax but they don’t go back to their game.
“Who is the designated leader here?” I ask them. I recognize one or two out of the six. I trained them in the First Guard. Decent soldiers, they are.
The one I know points back into the depths of the cavern. “That would be Beth Ristic.”
I frown. “Beth? Your leader is a woman?”
The vampire addressing me shrugs. “She came to us a few days back.”
I rack my brain, trying to remember a Beth.
I come up null.
“I don’t know any Beth,” I say.
“Neither did we. But she has the King’s own medallion, and his stamp on a letter, as proof.”
I narrow my eyes. “Very few vampires are allowed to roam with things like that.”
“We know. We contacted The Crypts to check. The dispatcher there confirmed he story to us.”
“Then this must have been a direct order from Logan,” I mutter. “Strange that I didn’t know.”
I look at the gathered vampires. “You said Beth Ristic. Why does she use her last name?”
“After she assumed command, it became improper to ask,” one of the others informs me.
“Vampires, especially vampires of The Crypts, cut all ties to their former lives when they are born,” I say. “For her to keep hers… and you say she’s powerful?”
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Another of the six whistles. “She almost matches you in strength, Lieutenant.”
Now I’m even more impressed. And obviously cautious. Less than ten other vampires come even close to me in raw strength. And I know them all.
“Take me to her,” I say.
“Very well.” The same vampire who first spoke starts leading the way. The others watch, then return to their game.
“What’s your name, soldier?” I ask when we’re out of direct earshot of the crew.
“Lars,” he says.
“Oh, that’s right. I remember. You were a good fighter when you trained with me.”
“Not good enough to join the First Guard,” he sneers. “Even though that other one, that little fruitcake, somehow made his way in. All because of magic.”
“Careful,” I warn. “That little fruitcake is Riyu, and he got in on his other talents.”
“What, like his obsession with you?”
My rage explodes. I grab the vampire by the shoulder and slam him into the wall.
“It would be very wise,” I hiss, “to learn to hold your tongue. I come on the King’s business. You think I cannot administer the King’s justice?” My free hand presses into his chest, and my claws come out. “I will rip out your heart and end your miserable life if I hear one more word of disrespect.”
Lars doesn’t back down. He stares into my eyes. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Then you are much dumber than you look,” I tell him precisely. “You want to see your end in this dungeon?”
“You’re not going to kill me.”
“If you show one more ounce of disrespect, I will.”
I let him go. He staggers before catching his step.
“Now,” I command. “Lead.”
He does not say another word as he takes me down the path to Beth.
We reach a solid stone door. “She’s in there,” he says. “If I were you, I’d knock before entering. Just a thought.”
And with that he turns away and marches back.
“Incredible,” I mutter under my breath.
I take a moment to check over my uniform, making sure it’s properly fitted and in place, before knocking.
Without waiting for an answer, I enter.
The room catches me by surprise. This is the first I’ve traveled to this outpost in many, many years. Last time I was here there was nothing but tapestries on the walls, and shelves full of scrolls.
All that has changed. Now, each wall is covered with digital screens. Some are linked to show a part of the same image. Others are wholly separate, running esoteric programs with lines of code I could never read.
And at the far back of the room, standing before the central console, is a vampire whose presence I’ve never felt before.
She’s faced away from me. She is intently focused on her keyboard and screen. I hear her fingers tapping away at preternatural speed.
Any regular keyboard would collapse under such an assault. This one must be specially made.
She doesn’t turn back, or stop typing, as she says, “Ah, hello, Dagan. I was wondering how much longer I’d have to wait to meet the legendary fighter himself.”
One of her arms swings sideways and she points to a particular screen. On it, I see a green-tinted night vision feed of the campsite I’d destroyed.
“You did quite a number on our friends down below,” she says. “But what most interests me… is this.”
The feed warps back and then shows me staggering to that pole and vomiting up the blood.
She brings one foot behind the other, does a very precise spin, and faces me for the first time.
My jaw nearly drops from shock.
She looks exactly like Logan.
Oh, her features are feminized, of course. And thanks to the vampire blood, she is supremely beautiful.
But she has the same tilt to the eyes, the same ratio of jaw-to-cheekbone, the same eyebrows.
Most of all, she has exactly the same way of hooking her gaze onto you that Logan does.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she observes. Then, for whatever reason, she giggles. “That’s quite funny to me.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I say flatly. Usually I do a good job of concealing my emotions. Right now, however, I’m an open book.
Quickly, I conform my features. Then I stalk toward her. “Who are you?” I demand. “Why have I never met you before?”
“Because we’ve never had the pleasure of having our paths cross,” she says in an almost girlish way. She winks and holds out her hand. “I’m Beth.”
To my surprise I take it. She shakes with a firm grip.
“Dagan,” I say.
“I know,” she answers.
“The vampires out there—they said you used a last name. Any significance in that?”
“Where I’m from, it’s customary to pay tribute to your family.”
“And where is that, exactly?” I pose.
She waves a hand dismissively. “Far, far away.”
“Not good enough,” I say.
She smiles. “Why? Are you frightened Dagan? Worried I might usurp you? Don’t be. I have no skill in combat. Much less military strategy.”
The grace with which she moves speaks of exactly the opposite.
“So,” she looks at the screen… “Care to tell me what happened out there?”
“Care to tell me why I should?”
She tsks. “Oh, so it’s going to be like that, is it? Just wait. I have something for you.”
She goes back to her desk and returns with a rolled-up parchment. She hands it to me.
Sure enough, the stamp has the King’s insignia on it.
“Open it. Read,” she says, handing it to me. “See what it says.”
I do as I’m asked. As I scan the lines, I recognize the King’s handwriting… but some of it is off.
I narrow my eyes at her and scrunch the document up in one hand. “This is a forgery,” I accuse.
She mock-gasps, then presses a hand to her heart. “Nooo. You think?” She laughs, and tosses her hair. “It was good enough to fool those idiots out there.”
“You knew it wouldn’t trick me,” I say. “Why show it? Why reveal yourself?”
“Because I suspect, Dagan, that you and I are ultimately on the same side.” She gestures to a chair. “Sit, if you like. This is going to be a long story.”
“Then make it short,” I tell her, not even glancing at the offered seat. “And be damn sure it’s convincing enough for me not to kill you.”
“You can try,” she says breezily. “But I doubt you’d have much success.”
A sudden blue light explodes from around her, and an invisible force pushes me back.
And then it’s gone. I only moved a total of maybe three inches.
But the display of magic is enough to make me very, very cautious.
“You’re a witch,” I say.
“Bingo!”
“And strong,” I note. Coming so close to her made it easier to judge her vampiric strength.
The others were right. It’s barely a step beneath mine.
“A force to be reckoned with, some might say.” She gives another smile.
“Fine,” I grunt. “You have my attention. Tell me what you will.”
“Deal. But first, let me ward off this room. We don’ want any eavesdroppers.”
That old, conditioned response to magic takes me as she wields it. The distaste, the distrust, the hatred.
The utter and complete revulsion.
I feel a great bit of relief when the light finally winks out, and we are both on equal footing again.
“So,” she settles down beside me, gesturing to the vacant seat. With a grimace, I take it. “Who goes first? Me, or you?”
“What do I have to tell you?” I ask, struck by the audacity she has to make that suggestion.
“I’m sure you have many, many secrets you haven’t revealed,” she says. Her eyes shine.
“How much do you know about me?”
“More than you think, but not enough to make my choice.”
“What choice?”
“Whether I tell Logan how you let Riyu get away or not.”
Shock shoots through me. I keep my features absolutely still. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, sure you do. Look.”
She snaps her fingers, and that blue glow surrounds her again. The mouse and keyboard move as if someone’s using them.
And then a video feed of the secrete tunnels in The Crypts comes up.
“How did you get that?” I demand. “Nobody knows about those ways!”
“You sure do possess a striking amount of naivety for a warrior so hardened,” she observes.
I scowl. “I was in there. There are no cameras. How did you get the feed?”
She laughs. “You think I need cameras when I can manipulate the Elemental Forces? When I can touch and control the very fabric of our universe?” Her eyes darken, and her tone grows serious. “Anything can be converted to electronic signals, to binaries, to zeros and ones. The trick is getting our current technology to respond to that. Luckily, I’ve spent every decade since the inception of computers perfecting the craft.”
“Technology and magic do not mix,” I growl.
“Proof, right there, says otherwise.” She looks to the screen. “Oh, look. Here you are.”
And I watch in horror as my betrayal of the King plays out in front of me. There is no sound to the video, but I’m sure it’s only because Beth hasn’t turned it on.
It ends with Riyu jumping through the portal and me then staggering away.
Beth turns to me, evaluating my face. “Imagine if I brought that before the King.”
“You would not get out of there alive,” I say. “You think Logan will take lightly the fact that you infiltrated his coven, with your magic cameras and Lord-knows what else?” On a whim, I decide to add, “Just because you’re his daughter doesn’t mean he’ll take pity on you.”
She blinks, taken aback.
“And what makes you say that?” she asks very slowly.
“Because I know the King,” I continue. “I know what he’s like. He dispenses justice with a heavier hand for those close to him than those who are far.”
“No, no,” she shakes her head. “Not that. The other part.”