Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Book 2]: Blood Mists of London

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  I frowned but still couldn’t see. “Why’s that?”

  “Judging by the injuries you’ve sustained from the vampire, he viewed the duke as a bigger threat than himself, which means no more roaming the streets alone. The duke is more powerful than the one that the enchanted branch killed. He was fast enough to hit me before I have a chance to defend myself.”

  “He’s been toying with you,” I replied.

  Jacques’ jaw tightened. “It’s only made me madder, but I’m not a match for him alone. We had nine together the other night, trying to overpower him, and he still got away.”

  “How many will it take?”

  Jacques shook his head. “I don’t know, Forrest. It took quite a few of us to destroy Baron Randolph, but we had him cornered.”

  “And Bodi betrayed him.”

  Jacques smiled. “His friendship with you was stronger than the promises the baron had made to him.”

  My head throbbed relentlessly. Even though my eyes were closed the room spun, causing my stomach to twist with nausea. “Help me lie back. I don’t feel so well.”

  Jacques wrapped his hand around the side of my biceps, placed his other hand at the center of my back, and lowered me onto the bed. I sank into the feathered mattress and the bedsprings creaked beneath my full weight.

  Matilda stepped beside the bed and explained what herbal remedies she thought could be help me recover, but her voice seemed so far away. I fought sleep but felt like I was endlessly falling. Their voices vanished. The bed didn’t exist. All my pains disappeared as darkness surrounded and engulfed me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When I awakened and first opened my eyes, everything was blurred. I blinked hard several times, forcing thick tears from my eyes. Things became less blurry. I reached up and touched the sides of my face, wincing slightly.

  The swelling was gone but my skin remained tender to touch. Turning slightly I noticed Jacques and Matilda were asleep on the other bed. His arms were wrapped around her. Both slept with smiles on their faces.

  From the faint brightness spilling through the window, it was first light. Roosters crowed in the distance. Sparrows sang from the vents of eaves and the rooftops.

  I pushed myself up and hung my feet over the side of the bed. The bedsprings protested my movements but didn’t awaken Matilda or Jacques.

  A pungent odor made me gasp. Tied around my ribcage was a wet bag of herbs and ointment that smelled like a dead animal. I untied the bandage and slid the smelly poultice off my body.

  My stomach protested its hunger. The other aches and pains in my body were minimal. The herbs might have helped, but I was also a fast healer.

  “You’re finally awake,” my father whispered in his hoarse voice. He eased forward in the chair where he sat wrapped in a blanket. “You had us worried.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Four days now.”

  Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and rubbed my bearded chin.

  “How are you feeling, son?”

  “Rested but hungry.”

  “We could go eat breakfast,” he said, sliding the blanket off his lap and rising.

  “I can wait until they’re awake.”

  “Jacques!” Father said. “Forrest’s awake.”

  “Father, you needn’t do that.”

  Jacques and Matilda jerked and opened their eyes.

  Jacques yawned, rubbed his eyes, and rolled out of the bed. He gave a relieved smile to see me sitting up. “How are you faring, Forrest?”

  “Pain isn’t what I last remember.”

  “I should hope not,” Jacques replied. “A lesser individual would have died. But since you’re a Hunter, it looks like you’ve healed quite well. Matilda made a poultice for you.”

  I nodded and scrunched my nose. “It’s a wonder I didn’t have worse nightmares. The smell caught my attention when I awakened.”

  “It’s been hard to breathe in here,” Father said softly.

  “It has helped him heal,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes narrowed.

  “That’s a matter for debate,” Father replied.

  I nodded toward her. “I’m certain it did its purpose.”

  She smiled, grabbed her clothes, and stepped inside the small changing room. “Thank you, Forrest.”

  Jacques walked to the washbasin and poured fresh water into it. He glanced at me in the mirror. “You had some bad dreams?”

  I shrugged. “They weren’t pleasant by any means.”

  “What were they about?”

  “None really made any sense. All of them were about dark places with creatures hiding in the shadows that I never saw, but I knew they were there, waiting for me.”

  “That occurs sometimes when your body is healing. It’s happened to me several times. But you had us worried those first two days. I wondered if you’d survive,” Jacques said.

  “Why?”

  He sighed. “You burned with fever. You sounded like phlegm was building up inside your chest. Occasionally you stopped breathing. I was afraid you were coming down with pneumonia. Sometimes you even cried out in your sleep.”

  I stood and grabbed one corner post of the bed. “I’ve really been asleep four days?”

  “Yes.” Jacques put his face over the basin and washed his face. After a vigorous scrubbing, he patted his face with a towel.

  Glancing around the room, I said, “I’m surprised we’re still at this inn. We should almost be out of funds, shouldn’t we?”

  “Interesting thing about that,” he said.

  Cocking a brow, I said, “What?”

  “Remember that the vampire never offered his name?”

  “Yes.”

  Jacques nodded toward my father. “Show him, John.”

  Father reached under the side of the bed, brought out a leather pouch, and set it on the bed.

  “What’s that?”

  Father grinned. “A reward.”

  “Reward for what?”

  “Killing the vampire.”

  “Who left it?” I asked.

  Jacques and Father shrugged.

  “You don’t know?”

  Jacques shook his head and reached inside the pouch. “No name was left. But a short message was tucked inside. ‘For freeing us from Trenton’s terror, please accept our thanks.’ Three hundred British pounds.”

  “His name was Trenton?”

  “That’s really all we can guess from the note, but apparently he had caused quite a bit of problems. For someone to leave such a high reward, when they didn’t even have to leave one at all, he must have wreaked havoc for a long time,” Jacques replied. “But we won’t need to worry about food or lodging for weeks.”

  Father shook his head. “Let’s hope we don’t have to wait around that long.”

  “This means that whoever left the money probably witnessed Trenton’s demise,” I said.

  “I agree.”

  Father nodded. “At least you know the name of who pummeled you.”

  “That I do,” I said with narrowed eyes.

  Jacques slid his arms into his shirtsleeves and slowly buttoned the shirt. “Shields has been by the past three days to check on you.”

  “Any news on the duke?” I asked.

  Jacques shook his head. “No. Nothing new.”

  “You’ve not found any evidence while I was asleep?”

  “We’ve not gone out during the night, Forrest,” Jacques replied. “It was best for us to make certain you recovered.”

  “What did you tell Shields about my condition?” I asked.

  “The truth,” Father said.

  “About the vampire?”

  Jacques nodded.

  “Why?”

  “He already knows our purpose for being here. Telling him lets him know that Duke Raginwulf isn’t the only vampire in London.”

  “We had already told him of the possibilities,” I said.

  “Yes, and now he has undeniable proof. It
helps him prepare for future situations, so he can decide if he needs to tell other constables about what they might eventually face.”

  “When a vampire is killed, there’s not much proof left behind.”

  “Shields trusts us.”

  “Do you think he left the reward?”

  Jacques shrugged. “It’s possible. But it could have been any wealthy individual who had suffered loss to Trenton.”

  “It could be the duke,” I said.

  Jacques gave me an odd stare. “What makes you think that?”

  “Trenton was trying to get me to help kill the duke, remember?”

  Jacques chuckled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Vampires hiring bounty hunters to kill their competition. That’s a market I had never anticipated.”

  “Me, either, but you have to admit, it’s not totally out of the question,” I said. “The one hiring an assassin can hide in the shadows until his enemies are dead, thus expanding his territory.”

  “Vampires are secretive and trust a selective few, if anyone at all. They have opposing hierarchies like werewolves do. Since they’re territorial, most won’t intrude upon another leader’s ambit. Duke Raginwulf has encroached upon every vampire, human, and werewolf hierarchy within London. His presence is drawing out all of his unknown enemies. He’s greatly outnumbered. He’s a fool for being here. When they find him, they will kill him.”

  “He has a reason for coming to London. I don’t think it was to invade other vampire territories. Perhaps he hadn’t considered those risks before he arrived, but he seems to be pursuing a sole purpose.”

  “Like what exactly?” Jacques asked.

  “That’s what I want to know. Have you visited Esmeralda again?”

  Jacques frowned. “No. Why would we do that? She refused to offer us further information.”

  “I think Raginwulf is in London specifically because of her.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I’ve not figured it out yet, but why would a master vampire with his wealth pursue her family?” I asked. “She told us her story, but how much of it is true? What did she not tell us? What is she lying about?”

  “She might not be lying about anything,” Matilda said, walking back into the room. “But I do agree with you that she’s hiding something.”

  I grabbed my boots and sat in a chair. While putting them on, I glanced at Jacques. “After we eat, I think we should pay her community a visit during the daylight hours this time.”

  “That’s a long walk,” Jacques said. “Do you feel up to it?”

  I glanced into the mirror. “Other than the fading bruises, I feel much better than I look.”

  “What do you expect to find?”

  “I don’t know. Something in my spirit is prompting me that we will find some answers to this puzzle there. We might discover useful evidence, but we also need to pay careful attention to how everyone acts. If good fortune sides with us, we might gain vital information to aid us in killing Duke Raginwulf. Like you’ve hinted many times, we are going to need a lot of allies to join together against the duke to be successful.”

  “No argument here,” Jacques replied.

  “Then let’s get going.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I overindulged at breakfast, eating three times more than normal, but after not eating for four days, I figured my body had some catching up to do. My body had healed rapidly in spite of being deprived of food. Not only did my ravenous appetite capture the attention of the wait staff, the cook, and all the patrons inside the dining room, even my family members stared at me with slightly disturbed expressions on their faces. But my urge to eat controlled me. I couldn’t satiate the need.

  After I had finished eating the pound of steak, a half-pound of potatoes, a quarter block of sharp cheddar, and a whole rye loaf, we left the dining house. I expected my stomach to become bloated but it didn’t. My senses were keener, my muscles swelled thicker, and energy pulsed through me. I had never known such vigor.

  Jacques clasped my shoulder, shook his head, and grinned. “That was eventful, cousin.”

  I blushed with a slight smile.

  “It’s a good thing you earned a hefty reward for killing that vampire, Forrest. Otherwise, we’d all be sleeping on the street tonight,” he said. “Your meal cost what all of ours did together.”

  “Let him be. His body needs sustenance,” Matilda said softly. “He’s healing.”

  Jacques nodded. “I realize that, but I’ve never seen anyone eat with such cravings, and I’m a werewolf.”

  Father regarded me with a side-glance as we walked. His eyes widened. “You seem taller and broader.”

  I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I’ve been lying down for four days. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen me on my feet.”

  “He’s right,” Jacques said. “You’re at least two inches taller. Stop. Stand toe to toe with me for a few seconds so we can measure you.”

  I did as he requested. We stood face to face. I was taller than before. He had to look up slightly.

  “You were already gigantic in my mind,” Jacques said. “Especially for your tender age. You’re not just tall. You have girth. But remember what I told you the other day. Don’t think because you’re enormous that you’re slow. I’ve never met a Hunter who was not agile. You have incredible strength, but I assure you, you’ve been gifted with speed, too.”

  “I’ve always been a clumsy runner,” I replied. “Because of my huge feet.”

  “Use your size to your advantage. Don’t convince yourself that you can’t do something or you become your biggest enemy. You might need to practice running but since you’re one of the Chosen, you won’t have such a handicap.”

  A soured expression creased Father’s face. “He’s not infallible.”

  “No one is,” Jacques replied. “But I’ve yet seen a Hunter with his frame and build, which thwarts away any doubt of him not being Chosen.”

  Father cleared his throat to mask his grumbling, but it didn’t slip unnoticed by me. I found it odd that he was jealous of his own son. At times I truly wondered if Baron Randolph had not nearly killed my father if I’d have ever learned about my calling. Jacques might have eventually told me, but Father had tried to keep it hidden from me. Perhaps the loss of Momma wasn’t the only reason he drank too much. Self-pity might be another reason.

  Rather than draw attention to Father’s resentment, I strode past him and walked in the center of our group. Most of the traders and produce vendors were setting up their tables under the awnings, but the middle of the cobblestone street remained fairly clear. Since few horses and wagons occupied the street, it allowed us to walk faster. It didn’t take long for us to get a half block ahead of Father. Matilda lingered behind with him, so he didn’t walk alone. She hated to see him alone and regarded him like a daughter would a father.

  Once he was out of hearing distance I glanced toward Jacques. “Did Father get drunk during the four days I slept?”

  He shook his head. “No. In fact, he never left your bedside other than to do nature’s bidding. He was genuinely concerned about you. A few times I awoke during each night to find him on his knees at the side of your bed praying. As badly as his legs ache, Forrest, you can imagine what kind of suffering he did to perform such a task.”

  I nodded and felt partially ashamed for thinking he’d have slipped off to drink again.

  “That surprises you?” Jacques asked.

  “It does.”

  “It shouldn’t.”

  “For a long time he’s acted offended that I was chosen to be a real Hunter. He gets resentful of any success I’ve had slaying vampires. I can see it in his face and hear it in his voice.”

  Jacques smiled gently. “Would you like me to tell you about the strife that often occurs between sons and fathers?”

  “Sure.”

  “Most men grow up in the shadows of their fathers constantly berating themselv
es because they don’t measure up to their father’s accomplishments. Until their fathers pass away, they cannot become successful. They feel like nothing they do can come close to equaling the success of their fathers. But you, Forrest, you have a different situation altogether.”

  I frowned. “How’s that?”

  “Your father believes he can never measure up to what you are. Sadly, though, he’s correct. He never will. He knows it. You see, he’s conflicted inside. He’s truly proud of you and what you are. His resentment isn’t toward you, although I’m certain you feel that it is. His contention is with himself. His harbored bitterness is toward whatever power chose you and not him. Since he has no way to lash out at that force or those forces, his emotions come out whenever he’s around you, though unintended.”

  “Is there anything I can do to alleviate this?”

  Jacques shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

  “I’m glad to know he didn’t drink while I was sleeping. I hated losing my temper with him the other day. The things I said—”

  “Were the truth, Forrest. Never shame yourself for being honest even when the honesty stings. That means with me, your father, or whomever you fall in love with one day. That’s not to say you should thrash others with your words. Never do that. Be kind and loving and as understanding as possible, but always be honest if what the person is doing is self-destructive or causing harm to others.”

  “I thought he was going to strike me.”

  “I did, too, Forrest. But you’re large enough to defend yourself if the situation ever arises again. Has he ever lifted his hand toward you before?”

  I shook my head. “Only in admonishment but when I deserved it. But he never did when he was angry or drunk.”

  Jacques smiled. “I never pictured him doing so, nor would I have thought he’d ever abuse you, but after seeing his threatening behavior the other day, I needed to ask you. He has always seemed loving and protective.”

  “He was before Momma died.”

  “Believe me, Forrest, if he had ever mistreated you or your mother, he’d have answered for it, even though he’s my cousin. I assure you, I’d have made sure it never occurred again.”

  I smiled, in spite of the tears burning to be released. There was no greater feeling than knowing someone else was willing to fight to protect you because he loved and cared about you.