Father shook his head. “No, son.”
I glanced toward Matilda. She shook her head.
“When you’re finished with the tea, we’re heading underground to talk to Albert.”
“Whatever for?” Father asked.
I explained what Jacques and I had discussed.
“Does that acquire my attendance?” he asked. “I’m exhausted. My lower back and legs ache.”
I smiled. “You can stay here and rest, if that’s what you wish.”
“I’d appreciate it, son.”
“Matilda?” I said.
“I can go with you and Jacques.”
Father looked hurt and pouted like a child. He liked being in Matilda’s company. I think her female companionship helped lessen the pain of Momma’s absence.
“We shouldn’t be gone long,” I said.
Father shrugged with a soured expression on his face. “Take your time.”
“We need to find where his lair.”
He huffed and crossed his arms. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry yourself about me.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry that you hurt, Father. Truly I am. But I cannot deny my duty.”
“Sorry I’m holding you back.”
“You’re not, Father. That’s not my point. But where we can do the legwork, we will. That doesn’t make you less important. You have a host of knowledge that will always be essential to me. You’ve made a lot of sacrifices over the years, like any good parent or spouse would. Now it’s my turn to reduce your workload.”
“Do me no favors,” he replied, refusing to make eye contact. He half reminded me of an agitated momma hen that puffed up when disturbed. He’d sulk long after we returned from visiting Albert.
I nodded toward Matilda and Jacques, and we walked away.
My father had always been a complex man, but he was steadily becoming more moody after his injuries and Momma’s death. At times, like now, he was bitterer than wormwood. I supposed his lashing out was more toward himself than us, but it was hard to determine. He had been helpless to save my mother, and with his nearly useless legs, his lack of mobility made him feel insufficient. But he was far from it. No amount of coaxing from me would ever allow him to understand that. Stubborn men cannot be convinced of anything they don’t already perceive to be the truth. Arguments were futile.
The three of us crossed a street and headed down a narrow alley, but not without notice. Two men followed us. They were big men with thick black beards, Jewish hats, and heavy overcoats. Their eyes set colder than ice and hatred chiseled their hardened faces. There was no denying that they were brothers. Not twins but remarkably close in resemblance.
“This is our side of the street,” the one said in a thick accent. “You’re trespassing.”
“We’re passing through,” Jacques said. “Not looking for any problems.”
“You’ve already found plenty of problems,” the other one said, revealing a long blade. “You’re not one of us. You’re intruders.”
Jacques and I turned. He took Matilda by the arm and pulled her behind us.
“You can pay with money or blood,” the man said.
I eyed the long blade. He grinned.
“Interesting,” I said, grinning back.
“What?” he replied. He was surprised by my lack of fear.
“That looks like the type of blade used to butcher that woman. I imagine the PCs would be interested in talking to you.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“You’re threatening us, so that doesn’t help your argument, does it?”
“I have the right to protect what is ours.”
“An alley? This is a passageway where people walk. We’ve not infringed upon anything that belongs to you. If you think intimidating strangers for money will work, you have no idea who you’re threatening.” I reached into my pocket and gripped a stake.
His eyes glanced toward my pocket. He became more apprehensive when I didn’t pull out a weapon but kept my hand hidden inside my pocket. Since I was a bit larger in height and weight than they were, that increased my counter threat.
Anger stirred in Jacques’ eyes. Whenever he was threatened his eyes darkened. It was noticeable to anyone that happened to be watching him at that particular moment. It was like looking into the eyes of a wolf.
Uncertainty arose in the one man’s gaze, as if he couldn’t believe what he had seen. He turned his frightened gaze toward me. His voice became softer and less threatening. “We’ve had an impostor plague us recently. Some of our people have gone missing.”
“Do you know what this person looks like?” I asked.
They shook their heads.
“He comes in the dead of night. Only his shadow and glowing eyes are visible. He’s a monster. He steals people. Our people.”
I smiled evenly. “Then we are allies, not enemies. We are looking for the same man. Rest assured, when we find him, we will kill him.”
The two men studied us for several long seconds before sliding their knives from view. They nodded, turned slowly, and walked back to the crowded street.
Jacques found a metal door, lifted it, and we hurried underground. He struck a match across a wooden beam and used the small flame until he found a lantern. It was good that some shop owners left lanterns beneath the door. “I never took you to be one for scuffling.”
I shrugged. “I’m not. But it’s better to be aggressive than passive with people who draw weapons without waiting for reasoning.”
“That’s true. But they had knives. What do you have? A stake?”
I nodded.
He shook his head. “That’d leave a nasty scar.”
“I imagine it would hurt for quite some time first.”
Jacques laughed softly. “It would indeed. But even though they were hostile in their approach, they’re like us. They want answers. They want to find this murderer. He’s caused a panic.”
I nodded. “I know and I understand that. But, frightened desperate people are often more dangerous.”
“They can be.”
“Do you smell that?” Matilda asked.
“It’s a rancid odor,” Jacques replied, placing a hand over his nose and mouth.
I scrunched my nose and covered it. “Reeks of death.”
We walked for several yards until we noticed small objects scattered along the rocky floor. Jacques brought his lantern closer. Dead rats. A few dozen of them. Their little bodies had been twisted in quick harsh manners. Their mouths were opened with dead painful snarls. They looked like they had been crushed and thrashed on the ground.
“Are these rats Albert’s?” I asked.
“Possibly,” Jacques said softly.
Matilda knelt in the midst of the rats and waved a slow hand over one rat’s corpse in what I assumed was her attempting to feel their lingering energy. “Not necessarily his rats. We’re well outside of Albert’s lair and his tunnels. While he has control over a large rat population, he doesn’t over all of them. No were-creature has that range of power.”
One larger rat twitched near her foot.
“They’ve not been dead long,” Jacques said.
She grabbed one rat’s long tail and lifted it off the floor. Its body hung limp. No stiffness. “Recently killed.”
“Then whatever killed them isn’t far away,” I said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a stake.
“These rats aren’t what smell of decay,” Jacques said. “They’ve not been dead long enough.”
“What I smell is too large to be the rats,” I replied. “Walking death.”
“Zombie?” Jacques asked.
“Not sure. But a zombie would have tried to eat those rats.”
“You’re correct.”
It was a time when I wished we had more light. The glow from a singular lantern didn’t brighten a large enough radius, especially not for three people. The underground tunnel narrowed ahead of us. The brick walls dripped water, forming small pools. Cool air waft
ed, bringing with it the decaying smell. This pungent odor increased as we neared the door. With the light outlining the doorframe but nothing beyond, we stopped and listened. The constant pings of dripping water resounded around us. No sounds, other than our shallow breathing, were audible. But if a master vampire were beyond our line of sight, it would be nearly impossible for us to detect him due to his faint heartbeat and extremely shallow, almost nonexistent, breathing.
Pinpointing the closeness of a vampire was the most particularly dangerous part of being a Vampire Hunter, based upon sound detection. A vampire hidden on the other side of this dark door already knew our presence and proximity since they possessed heightened, acute senses. Not to mention, we were possibly standing inside his territory.
I glanced with uncertainty at Jacques. “Do you sense anything beyond that door?”
He narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air. “Nothing out of the ordinary. You?”
I shook my head. Instead of retreating, I pulled another stake from my other pocket and headed toward the open door. Perhaps I should have allowed the werewolf to enter first since he had better sight and hearing than I did, but I was a perpetually overzealous youth who thought myself as virtually indestructible. At least this time good fortune favored me. However, added unexpected mysteries would puzzle us even more.
Chapter Seventeen
Across the threshold nothing supernaturally undead or living awaited us. We did find a few corpses. One was a medium sized pig drained of its blood, which emitted a powerfully rotten smell. The slick sound of maggots and worms writhing beneath the pig’s skin, its eyes and other orifices was unnerving. It was another aspect of after death that disturbed most humans.
We could only assume the pig had been drained due several punctured bite marks along its thick neck. But wiggling maggots spilled from those holes as well. Not far away from this pig were two dead humans, also with vampire bites in their necks, but thankfully, no maggots, yet.
“He’s fathered at least a few children,” Jacques said. He held the lantern over the pig carcass and counted three different bite marks.
“Why a pig?” I asked.
“More blood. Easier to feed a larger group at once,” Jacques replied.
“Where would they get a pig here?” Jewish refugees wouldn’t have them.
“There’s a butcher shop a few streets over,” Matilda said.
Jacques continued examining the human corpses. “The two dead females were probably drained due to the uncontrollable hunger of the younger vampires. These two young women would have been vampires as well, but I’m guessing the master is having a difficult time weaning his children’s desires to tone down their cravings. These two were killed before he could instruct them properly. Vampires undergo a euphoric sensation when they feed and young ones gorge themselves beyond their own self-restraint.”
I stared at the two young women. Their skin was bright alabaster and their facial expressions were frozen in their last few moments of sheer terror. They had not been compelled and suffered immense pain. I felt remorse for them and wondered who in their families missed them. “How do you know that?”
The tone of his voice lowered. “I witnessed such things near Dracula’s castle. A newly sired vampire has a rampaging hunger, a heated temper, and is almost beyond control. Without the master standing by to coax and demonstrate, half a village could be slaughtered before sunrise.”
“How’d these young women get down here?”
“Probably lured here by the vampires. Most likely by family members who are now vampires.”
I thought about that for a several minutes. I couldn’t think of a more horrible betrayal than for a new vampire to seek out family or friends and lure them back to a lair to turn them or simply to drain them to death. Not all family members were loyal to one another in the first place. Some secretly despised siblings or parents to the point of wishing them dead. As a vampire, they held the power and influence to actually carry it out. The poor victims who might have been looking for the safe return of an absent family member must have been overjoyed to see the estranged one finally return. He or she would never hesitate to follow the undead sibling underground when told, “Come see what I have found. This is why I’ve been gone.” Curiosity outweighed rationality at times.
Matilda grabbed Jacques by the arm to lower the lantern. “We’re not alone.”
And we weren’t.
A shirtless young man stood before us. His pallid skin almost glowed in the dim lighting. Dark bite marks were prominent on his neck. But all over his body were other bite marks. The dead rats had made these. They must have tried to swarm and overtake him.
The young man stood with a blank expression on his face. His sunken eyes appeared lost and disoriented. He didn’t seem to notice us. I tightened my grip on the stakes and readied myself.
“He’s not a vampire,” Jacques said.
“You’re certain?” I asked.
“Yes. If you kill him, he most likely will turn. The others have been feeding from him. He’s human livestock. He’s been compelled and even if we get him out of here, he will return. This essentially is his home now. He remembers nothing outside of this tunnel,” Jacques said.
“We just leave him?” I asked.
“For now.”
Matilda stepped closer to the young man and placed her hand against his chest. He didn’t react to her touch. He looked through her as if she wasn’t there. “He’s cold like a corpse.”
“He has a pulse?”
She slid her hand over his heart. “Yes, his heartbeat is strong, but he’s so cold.”
“Come on,” Jacques said. “We need to move farther into the tunnel.”
“There’s nothing we can do for him?” I asked.
“Not until we kill the vampire that holds control over him.”
Jacques stepped around the young man. Matilda followed, although her eyes were troubled.
“How’d he get here?” I wondered aloud.
“Not sure. He might have escaped his holding pen and is wandering the tunnels, looking for the master. Unless the master seeks him, the young man might keep searching until he dies. Then he’ll awaken as a vampire.”
“From the others feeding off him?”
“Most likely, he has fed off the master. It sustains his health, especially since he’s being fed upon by the new vampires.”
I kept my stake in hand while we followed the tunnel. “Then that means we might find more like him or we’re about to find where the young vampires hide during the day.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad discovery.”
“Listen,” Matilda said softly.
We stopped walking. Jacques lowered the lantern and craned his neck. The narrow tunnel was wetter the deeper underground we had walked. Water stood. In some places, the path was completely underwater, almost ankle deep. Ahead, in the darkness, beyond our sightline, the water splashed in a consecutive rhythm, growing fainter with each passing second. Someone or something was running away from us.
Jacques handed me the lantern. “You need this more than we will.”
I frowned, tucking one stake into my coat pocket.
He and Matilda sprinted ahead, leaving me with the only light source in the tunnel. Of course, they didn’t need light to see. I ran to catch them, but they were too fast. I lost them.
Although I was one of the Chosen Vampire Hunters and a man by my outward appearance, I discovered that the frightened eight-year-old part of my mind occasionally surfaced. This was one of those moments, being alone in a dark tunnel where undead creatures hid. The lantern only offered a small radius of light. The slightest shift of the lantern created moving shadows at the edge of the light’s path, which sometimes looked like a person’s shadow retreating.
I took a deep breath and held it. Why did the mind play such horrid tricks in the darkness? Sounds were louder, creepier, and more mysterious. I felt watched by unseen eyes.
I shunted fear from my mind, g
ripped the stake in my right hand, and ran after Jacques and Matilda.
Chapter Eighteen
The long dark tunnel seemed endless. Several times it narrowed to the point where I had to turn sideways and squeeze through the fallen stones and bricks. A good fifteen minutes passed, and I still had not found Jacques and Matilda. Other than my heavy breathing and cumbersome thudding footsteps, no outlandish sounds caught my attention. The tunnel had never branched, so they had not taken a side path.
Leaning against the damp wall, I closed my eyes and held my breath. My heart pounded in my ears as I attempted to distinguish noises. Water dripped from the ceiling with irregular rhythm. I exhaled slowly, quietly, through my mouth. A sudden echoing shriek caused me to bolt upright. The sound sent shivers down my spine.
I tore into a sprint, racing toward the cry, which was even farther down the dark tunnel. Thinking the scream had come from Matilda, I didn’t slow my pace until a more disturbing sound caught my attention. Vicious growls rumbled. I hoped these were from Jacques and Matilda. If not, I was running into a battle I might not be equipped to survive.
The tunnel widened into a large rectangular room. Light filtered through a few holes overhead, illuminating enough to allow me to set the lantern on a large carved stone and focus my attention on the three vampires Jacques and Matilda had cornered in what looked like the cellar of an abandoned workhouse.
Another female vampire lay on the floor. Her throat was gashed open, leaking black blood, but she wasn’t dead. I supposed the loud shrill had come from her right before Matilda or Jacques had slashed their sharp claws through her neck. She pressed a loose ribbon of her flesh against her throat while pulling herself on hand and knees, trying to sneak closer to Matilda. The vampire gnashed her teeth. Her fangs protruded abnormally longer.
Matilda’s attention was on the three male vampires that she and Jacques were advancing toward. Matilda was oblivious of how close the injured vampire was to reaching her.
I rushed toward the female vampire, grabbed her shoulder, and flung her over onto her back. Her eyes widened, and she hissed at me. She lunged upward, trying to bite me, anywhere it seemed because she wasn’t near my throat. I hammered her forehead hard with a closed fist, snapping her head back against the stone floor. Before she could react, I placed my left hand firmly around her bloody throat and pinned her.
Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Book 2]: Blood Mists of London Page 11