Dropping the girl’s hand, D rose. He pressed the palm of his left hand to his right arm. When the teacher asked him if he’d been injured, he shook his head. “Seems we got here just in time,” the Hunter said.
Relief spread through the teacher’s chest. “You think that thing was what you’re looking for?” he asked hopefully, but consternation quickly knit his brow.
“No,” D said. “Judging by the temperature of the body and her drying blood, she was attacked this morning. What’s more, that nasty just now left no teeth marks on her throat. It seems I ran across it almost as soon as it found the woman.”
“What the blazes was that thing anyway?”
“I don’t know. But this is the second time I’ve run into it.”
“What?”
“Never mind that—this woman, would you happen to know her?”
At last Mr. Meyer could be of some small use. He rolled the woman, who had two threads of vermilion trailing from the nape of her neck, onto her back. Seeing the small basket lying nearby, he nodded.
“She’s married to a farmer by the name of Kaiser. Must’ve been out picking aluminon blossoms for salves when she was attacked.”
“And where were you this morning? You don’t have to answer that. We’ll know who the culprit is soon enough.”
“We will?”
“Based on her wounds, whoever attacked her is the sort that gets very attached to its prey. It’ll probably go after her again tonight. I’ll keep watch. If it doesn’t come . . . ”
Feeling that he should be terrified by the sentence D left unfinished, the young teacher said in a hollow voice, “If it doesn’t come what?”
“Then it would have to be someone who knows I’m here. Those students who saw me earlier were unaware of my profession, so that just leaves the mayor, Cuore, Lina, . . . and you.”
Even though the season was so near to spring, Mr. Meyer’s face had all the color of someone who’d died of exposure.
-
Before long, the sheriff and mayor hurried to the scene and carried Kaiser’s wife off after a purely perfunctory investigation. The sheriff stared at D with suspicion, but he said nothing. For his part, D made no mention of the invisible entity.
D alone remained at the scene. When all the others had taken their leave, he said to the palm of his left hand, “What kind of shape are you in?”
“Not too good, as you might expect,” came an exhausted voice in reply. “That was a hell of a lot of psychic juice to get hit with at once. I won’t be back up to snuff for four, maybe five days. As for me getting down deep into those three returnees, that’s completely out of the question. I couldn’t get an order through to their subconscious, or even to the uppermost layer of their consciousness for that matter.”
“That’s a problem.”
“If it is, it’s your own fault for always driving me like a slave. Sometime today or tomorrow you’ll need to feed me the big four.”
“How about now? Is that why you’re still hanging around?”
“Hmm . . . think I’ll take a little nap first.”
“Fine.”
The bizarre dialogue concluded and D left the scene of the tragedy. The winter sun was still high. D chose the shade as he walked. That there wasn’t even a tinge of weariness marring his beauty was truly astounding.
Irrespective of the weather, during the daylight hours those of vampire lineage craved rest at a basic physiological level. If it were merely a matter of remaining conscious, they could do so for up to eight hours if they confined themselves to a place where the sun virtually never shone. But if they engaged in any walking or standing around in sunlight, after four hours they’d lapse into a near-death state. Super Grade A Vampire Hunters could barely manage five to six hours of full activity. Their exhaustion was entirely different from that felt by a human working all night long, and it was solely because of this major weakness in the Hunters that the human wish to have all the Nobility exterminated remained unfulfilled.
Nearing the edge of the forest, D’s steps came to a sudden halt. There was Lina, waiting for him in a wagon. D silently took a seat riding shotgun and the wagon sped off.
After a while D said, “If you’re headed home, you’re going the wrong way.”
“Not a problem. See, we’re headed for the happiest spot in the whole village.”
Presently the wagon left the far end of the village and came to the highway, where it halted before a tiny shack facing the road. A sturdy-looking but rough wooden bench had been crammed into the space, and snow had drifted into the lampless interior.
“The bus stop,” Lina said brightly. “It’s the only station leading out of town. The winters are impassable, but in another five days the electric bus will be by. And that morning, I’ll be on the first one out of here.”
“Seems you’re bound for the Capital.”
“Aren’t you happy for me?!”
As the glint in the black pupils trained directly on him, D made a slightly awkward expression. “You certainly are an odd girl. Why would you say that?”
“How should I know?”
D looked puzzled.
“Just kidding,” Lina said, after the fashion of a sister explaining the workings of a sleight-of-hand to her bewildered kid brother.
D was silent. The warrior who evoked shudders from the bloodsucking Nobility was completely at the mercy of a girl barely seventeen years of age. There was nothing he could do. If Mr. Meyer or the mayor of the village could have seen him then and noticed how the terrific unearthliness which was rightfully his had faded, their eyes would have popped right out of their heads.
“Hey, how come you don’t smile? Do you think it’d kill you to laugh?”
At this coquettish query, D once again was at a loss for a reply. This young lady was a severe challenge.
“But you do cry, don’t you? There must be a lot of hard times, aren’t there. I just know there are.”
With some difficulty he managed to say simply, “Yeah.”
Lina suddenly became very serious. “You’ve got some sort of connection to the Nobility, don’t you? You don’t have to say anything; I just know. The mayor wouldn’t tell me anything, but not so much as a bird goes near you. And look! Even though you walk normally, the tracks you leave in the snow aren’t a third as deep as mine. Then there’s the ruins . . . ”
Lina faltered.
“What about the ruins?”
Watched by icily gleaming eyes, Lina realized that her cheeks had suddenly become hot. As if she was just now noticing that the youth before her was a man of such beauty it made her hair stand on end.
“I hid behind you, remember?” Even her tone of voice had a blush to it. “The first time I saw you I was really scared, but as soon as I heard what you said I shook it right off. ‘While it’s impossible to halt the progress of time, you would do well to show some respect for what’s been lost’—when you said that, you seemed so sad.”
This young lady must have heard the echoes of another world, echoes that no one else could hear.
“You’ve got good ears and an excellent memory,” D said in his usual tone, looking to the highway. “The sun will be down in a little while, so we’d best be on our way. It’s about time for the fiend to make another move on the woman from this morning.”
“Hey,” Lina rasped in a tone entirely inappropriate to the situation, poking meaningfully at D with her elbow. “Could you get your work done in the next five days and leave the village with me? I’ve got an awful bright future ahead of me.”
“Maybe. Better get in now.”
The pair clambered into the wagon and D took the reins in hand.
Stealing glances at his profile, Lina sported a mischievous grin. “You really don’t want to lose that scowl, do you, you big worrywart? I’m going to make a prediction for you.”
“A prediction?”
Perhaps knowing how D’s eyes glinted and perhaps not, Lina ceremoniously shut her lids and twit
ched her nose as if tasting the air. “That’s right. See, mine are almost always right on the money. Let’s see . . . okay, I got it.”
Then, gazing upon the beautiful profile beside her as if entranced, she said, “You’ll definitely be wearing a smile when you leave this place.”
-
Eight faces surrounded a single cot.
There was the sheriff and mayor, Mr. Meyer and Lina, three strapping members of the Vigilance Committee, and standing all alone with his back to the wall was D.
“Haven’t you caught that Cuore yet?” the mayor asked the sheriff in very ill humor, and the sheriff looked in turn to the powerfully built individual who seemed to lead the local vigilantes. His name was Fern.
“Well, he’s not holed up in his usual rat’s nest,” Fern stated. “But we got the Vigilance Committee and Youth Brigade out in full force, and I expect we’ll have him in no time.”
“If we have him here and a vampire shows up, it should clear up any doubts about the three of them. Get it done,” the mayor added, hurling an arrogant look at Lina and Mr. Meyer. Fern nodded deeply in agreement and looked over at D. Glaring hatred eddied like a whirlpool. He must’ve heard about the two minor altercations with Haig and his Youth Brigade.
“Visiting hours are about to begin. You’ll all have to step into the next room.”
While the others rose at D’s bidding, all three vigilantes turned their sullen faces away. His gelid gaze focused on them, and, though their eyes never met his, the way they suddenly left their seats suggested their backs had turned to ice.
“You can count on us to keep an eye on these other two. But are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” The sheriff’s words sprang from the fear that if by some chance D was defeated, the curse of the undead wouldn’t just claim the woman, but that more victims would follow as well.
It really didn’t matter what happened to the woman. The treatment of vampire victims varied from village to village, but here they were promptly driven out of town and left to their fate. Her husband had gone off to a neighboring village, but he was bound by the same laws they all were, so the sheriff didn’t have to worry about any censure.
However, this new Vampire Hunter planned to use the woman as bait to draw the demon. What’s more, the Hunter didn’t want the trio still under suspicion in the same room, but rather asked that they all wait together close by.
If not for the support of the mayor, the sheriff surely would have railed against this. There had been more than a few cases in the past when similar plans had failed, and those lying in wait hadn’t been the only ones to fall to the baleful fangs—whole villages had gone vampire. But, above all else, there was the salary the sheriff drew from the Capital to consider, a sum nearly five times what the average villager earned. It wasn’t the sort of job he’d just hand to someone else.
“Trust me, Sheriff,” the mayor said, clapping him on the shoulder. “After all, I called in just the man for the job.”
In his mind, he muttered, You called in the last Hunter, too. But, without wasting another word, the sheriff led the whole group into an adjacent room.
As soon as the click of the lock died, D curled his right hand into a loose fist, put it to his mouth, and aimed the scant opening at the lamp on the side table. With a puff of his breath, the flame burning within the glass of the hurricane lamp was extinguished. The room fell to the mastery of the dark.
Lowering clouds obscured the moon this eerie night, as wintry gales incomprehensible so near to spring rattled the window frames.
The woman lying in the cot was the same one who had been attacked earlier. Though she’d been unconscious since they’d found her, with the deepening of night her skin had lost its rosy hue; her face was now strangely imbued with the luster of paraffin. In that darkness unmarred by any spark of light, D could discern even the paling blood vessels lacing the woman’s cheeks.
Suddenly he spun toward the window.
There was naught but the rattle of the wind’s incessant blows to be heard, but D’s ears must have caught some other sound.
At the same time, his gaze returned to the bed.
From the nape of the woman’s neck—and the wound known as the Kiss of the Nobility—two vermilion rivulets began a trickling flow.
The tension was like a line snapped taut.
Something jet black pressed against the window pane. A face with both nose and mouth mashed flat was peering into the room, vested with a grin that was not of this world.
With a dull flutter, something thick flew through the air. A blanket.
D’s gaze was drawn to the door that was the boundary between this room and the next. That was where the nightshirt-clad woman was headed. Eyes as red as blood shone on D. The call had come from her master.
A vampire could beckon to its prey without actually going to see them, moving their victim by sheer will alone. It was a commonly used ploy. However, normally the victim would leave by a window. The vampire certainly wouldn’t send the victim all the way to the front door, where they’d most likely run into other people. What’s more, there had been a lurid figure outside the window. Was that a diversion?
The woman took a step back and made ready to ram her way through the door. D sprinted. With a piercing shriek, the window panes flew outward in shards and a sudden gust of wind rushed in.
Screams arose in the next room.
D could discern each and every individual noise. Even before the woman could smash herself against the door, something in the next room made the door buckle out from the inside. Screws shot from the hinges. A concussive blast erupted, and splintery chunks of the door ripped into the wooden floor, blowing shards of the broken windows outward. All without a sound.
The woman was now in a corner of the room. A guttural cry had been heard, but it had died in the shadows of a black coat. Just as the door splintered, D had taken the woman under his arm and leapt to safety. And it had taken less than a second for the buckling door to fly to pieces. His speed was ungodly.
It seemed that it had appeared for a third encounter with D.
The room swam with intense psychic power as the thing sought out its opponent with a raging, unvoiced howl. Strangely enough, D could even make out the thing’s body.
The head faced D and the woman.
Coagulated malevolence. Raising itself on all four limbs, it charged forward menacingly.
Looking askance at the woman rendered senseless by the ramming, D drew his longsword. What followed was an unanticipated ending.
With a scream that thundered outside the window, the malevolence was utterly dispelled. The growls of the night wind reverberated, but D just stood there confused in the normal winter air.
This just wasn’t right. It was impossible for such a fierce aura to disperse, to just disappear. Fragments of it—the remaining energy alone—should’ve hung in the air like gaseous clots. But there wasn’t the faintest trace of anything like that left in the room. The best course of action, at this point, would be to believe the thing hadn’t existed in the first place.
Instead of mulling this over, D sprung to work. Running his eyes over the devastated door and fallen woman, he hurled himself out the window.
The source of the cries was lying on the ground just below the window ledge. The Hunter rolled him over, revealing Cuore’s pale countenance. His chest rose and fell faintly under his bedraggled garments. Though there was no bleeding or wounds, his colossal frame looked withered from head to toe. His cheeks sank haggardly, starkly tracing the bones beneath. It looked as if the very essence of life had been torn out of him.
D was just about to scoop the man up when the Hunter’s body flew instead through the air and back into the room.
An ash-gray figure entirely bound in dark fabric clung to the woman. A scarf of rough cloth shrouded the figure’s face, and, from the core of that countenance, eyes the color of blood stared back at D. The woman didn’t move in the slightest. An expression of rapture at the tast
e of otherworldly pleasure suffused her waxen visage, and her ample and now naked breasts were mashed against the chest of the shadowy figure. Yes, even her supple thighs had been bared and were now twined around the figure’s legs. The ravager and the ravaged painted an image of secret lasciviousness.
The instant D spied the pair of fangs jutting from the corners of the creature’s detestable lips—the only part of the figure clearly visible as he nosily lapped at the blood bubbling from the wounds on the woman’s throat—the Hunter’s right hand unleashed a volley of white light.
As the sound of five wooden needles sinking into the planks of the wall was heard, those bloody lips formed a grin. Not a single change had occurred in the figure’s twisting embrace of the woman. Without moving a muscle, the creature had avoided the needles D had hurled.
D bounded from the floor.
The wan body of the woman flew up, and averting it introduced a delay of a mere hundredth of a second in his attack. A flash of silver slashed the sleeve of the ashen cloak, and D and the figure swapped positions.
An air of desolation filled the room.
At long last he’d met a worthy opponent. In any battle, the most important factors were, primarily, speed and, secondarily, strength. In terms of speed, at least, the shadowy figure was D’s equal.
However . . .
From the throat of that figure, a moan which could never be mistaken for human came as if borne on the wintry wind itself.
A splash of black seemed to make a smooth streak from the upper edge of the figure’s scarf down to the chin. The rent fabric fell away to either side, draping over the shadowy figure’s shoulders. It was the work of D’s blade, which in truth should have split his opponent’s body in half. Not losing a second, the figure shielded his face with his hand and leapt out the window.
Vampire Hunter D: Raiser of Gales Page 5