I glanced toward Albert with a shrewd stare. He shrugged and shook his head. He was like me, in that the child couldn’t sway Albert under his control.
“We need to discuss the best place to draw Raginwulf so we can slay him,” I said.
My deep voice jarred Jacques. He turned toward me and nodded. “I’d say right here, but this room is too small. We need a larger place.”
“How about right out in the open?” I asked.
“Like the village square?” Esmeralda suggested.
Albert folded his hands together. “That would be a good place, but he’s fast. Trapping him might be more difficult in the open.”
“Are you certain he will come into Lowbey?” I asked.
Albert nodded. “He wants his child, so yes. He will not hesitate to come for him, but something else must be done first.”
“What?” Esmeralda asked.
“You’ll have to remove your protection spells surrounding the village.”
The Gypsy witch looked worried and frail.
“It’s the only way, Esmeralda,” Albert said. “Your magic has kept him at bay for quite some time. You remove those shields, and he’ll sense it immediately, which is why you cannot remove those spells until we’re absolutely ready.”
“You guarantee that you can slay him?”
Matilda smiled at her. “It’s early afternoon. We have plenty of time to get everything into place and be prepared.”
“Besides,” Albert said, “Raginwulf’s attention will be so focused on Varak that he’ll be blind to our ambush.”
Jacques glanced toward Rusk. “This vampire has far more strength than Randolph. We cannot afford to make one mistake, or some of us might be killed.”
“Esmeralda,” Albert said. “You need to make certain none of your folks interfere. In fact, it’s probably safest if they resided as far from the village center as possible tonight.”
She nodded.
“I forewarn you because should we weaken him, he will attempt to feed upon anyone to gain back his strength. Since the majority of us are not mere mortals, he would have less difficulty if any of your folks were within striking distance. The longer we prevent him from getting to Varak, the more his rage will increase.”
“I will let them know,” she replied.
“Can you do something else?” I asked.
Esmeralda gave me a curious stare and partway shrugged. “Depends upon what you’re asking.”
“Have someone cut ten sharp stakes from that enchanted hedge.”
She frowned. “Why?”
I explained how the one branch had pierced Trenton’s heart.
Albert glanced toward me. “When she disenchants all of her magic traps, her magic will drain from those stakes as well.”
“I realize that, but if Esmeralda teaches Matilda the spell, Matilda’s magic will remain once Esmeralda has cancelled hers.”
Albert smiled at the idea.
“I can do that,” Esmeralda said. She motioned to a man standing right outside the door, told him what to do, and then the man ran out the door.
“It’s time we get things prepared for tonight,” Albert said, glancing toward Jacques and me.
Jacques and Rusk joined me near the door. “We should inspect the village square to find the best places to hide and set traps.”
Rusk nodded. “We should stash extra stakes and crosses in case he overpowers us.”
“Are you ready, Esmeralda?” Albert asked.
Esmeralda cradled Varak in her arm and swayed back and forth, rocking him. Her moist eyes fastened on the baby’s. The wet-nurse rose and stood at Esmeralda’s side desperately holding out her hands to take the baby back. Esmeralda refused to release him. “We’ll keep you safe, Varak.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dusk slowly settled. The ominous cloudy sky hung low over the city, foreshadowing the mood of the night and casting thick gloom over our hopes for success. We waited for hours, and my patience waned to less than the moon’s tiniest sliver. When the city clock tower struck midnight and the reverberating gongs echoed, the impending confrontation with Raginwulf was at hand. I sensed his presence nearing.
Esmeralda had removed her magical barriers around the outskirts of Lowbey, opening the door for the duke to waltz into our midst.
Whereas I could detect his approach, I wondered if he realized he was walking into a trap? Did he know we awaited his arrival? He seemed too intelligent to be fall victim so easily, but he wanted Varak, his son and heir, more than he wanted to reign in his eternal undead life alone. He understood the power his son beheld and had deliberately made certain of the child’s birth in the manner he had been conceived. He wanted a half-blood child, and I seriously doubted he had ever wished the demise of Fifika, and perhaps that was another reason for dispelling his rage toward Esmeralda and her immediate family. He was coming, not just for the sake of his child, but also for vengeance, to make them pay for the loss of his beloved wife and his son’s mother.
I had already sensed how dangerous this influential child was, but more frightening was what Varak would become if Raginwulf managed to flee with the child. Raginwulf would ensure the child was molded into something far worse than himself and Varak would rise into high leadership. Together they’d cause endless bloodshed and possibly remain unchallenged for decades, if not centuries. Once he reached maturity, even I with a dozen or more Hunters faced the impossible task of killing them. Their sway over their glamoured minions would force us to kill hundreds of innocent servants and townspeople in order to get anywhere near their lair. Killing mortals was something I had sworn never to do unless in self-defense.
The chill of the night air swept over me. I stood beneath an awning inside the doorway of a closed shop where I had a clear view of the village center. The water fountain was a pool of dark liquid that shimmered its mirrored surface, which reflected the only lit streetlamp. Father stood somewhere in the shadows to the east of my position. Jacques and Rusk, already werewolves, were across the street on the other side of the fountain in an alley. Albert had hidden so well that I didn’t have any idea where he was.
Three curved benches outlined the fountain in the village center. Esmeralda sat on the bench facing me. She wore a wool coat with a hood pulled over her head. In her arms she held what appeared to be a bundled child. On the other two benches Matilda and the wet-nurse sat dressed like Esmeralda, and they each cradled bundles in their arms as well. Decoys.
Varak was in one of the bundles, but I wasn’t certain which woman held him. I assumed he was with Esmeralda, but that was an easiest assumption for Raginwulf to make and certainly expect, so the wet-nurse possibly held him. None of us outside of the women sitting around the water fountain actually knew which woman cradled Varak in her arms. The other two held dolls in tight bundles, so no children were at risk.
Since the duke had tracked his son across many countries he sensed where Varak was. We hoped the decoys imposed enough of a distraction for us to attack Raginwulf while he was off guard and trying to determine where Varak was. I thought it odd that the duke’s surname was more suitable for a werewolf than a vampire, but his actions made him worthy of carrying it. He was indeed like a raging wolf tearing through obstacles to protect his own.
The night air suddenly plummeted. At the main street a billowing of fog slinked between the buildings. My hand gripped a stake tightly. Raginwulf was here.
I shook my head. It was hard enough to fight him in the dead of night, but he favored the additional cloak of thick fog, which reduced visibility far worse, especially for my father and me since we relied upon our human visibility. Rusk, Jacques, and Matilda were able to see through the moving mists.
The women seated on the benches were risking their lives to lure Raginwulf toward them. It was our responsibility to ensure their safety, but with the growing fog, I worried that we might not be able to keep them alive.
The cloud of fog swirled, growing thicker, and easing slowly fo
rward like a narrow wall. It occurred to me that if the fog reached the fountain, he’d kill the women and escape with Varak before we took the opportunity to stake him.
I slipped along the edge of the building, staying beneath the shadows of the awning, but with my massive size, I was far from invisible. I balanced my weight upon the toes of my feet without stomping down upon my heels to prevent making clomping noises. Jacques had shown me how this method allowed someone to walk almost silently, and since I had practiced to reduce my clumsiness, this manner of walking aided my approach without drawing immediate attention to me.
While I wasn’t quite certain how Raginwulf was able to manipulate the weather elements, I imagined it required a great deal of focus on his part, and since his attention was probably on the fountain benches, he was less likely to be watching the buildings at the edges of the street.
I made it to the corner of the square and pressed my back to the wall of another building. The fog flowed in soft pillows, rising and building, forming into the shape of a cube. I crept along the building’s edge toward the main street where he stood outside the village center.
My hand gripped the stake, but with my apprehension sweat moistened my palm. Even if I had a clear opportunity to drive the stake into his heart, the moisture on my grip would probably prevent me from piercing through his overcoat and ribcage to reach his heart. A pair of gloves would have come in handy, but more and more I was wishing I had a crossbow like Dominus. Indeed this was a weapon I needed to acquire. I needed range.
Nearing the main street, the smell of frankincense flowed from the fog. Was that his fragrance? It had to be. Some of the vampires I had slain had used perfumes or herbs to mask their unpleasant odor of decay, which was slight to a human, especially from a distance, but a vampire was more cognizant to his own death smell and self-conscious that unsuspecting acquaintances could readily detect him as a living corpse. I had yet encountered a vampire who didn’t enjoy fraternizing with the higher elements of society. Even Dracula had been known on occasion to host some extravagant festivities with the royal members of other countries without selfishly feasting off his guests. Vampires craved attention and prominence more than most humans.
Until Fifika’s death and Varak being snatched away, Raginwulf was probably highly regarded by those he ruled over and those who ruled over him. The bloodbath he had performed on the streets of Whitechapel was merely done to satiate his need for retaliation until he was able to reach Esmeralda. He had lost all control and rationality, which was why he and all vampires were evil. No good vampires existed. Once rage escalated inside their minds, vampires possessed no control over the carnage that ensued. They no longer cared who they killed or why. That was the true danger of any creature that roamed the earth without a soul. No soul meant no conscience, and that’s why a greater power summoned Hunters to rid the world of the vampire plague.
The frankincense became stronger, which was the only hint I held of how close Raginwulf stood near me. Vampires didn’t need to breathe, and what heartbeat they had was so slight that it was practically unnoticeable. But with the growing fog, I was unable to see him. A rush toward the scent was dangerous and foolish. He could kill me before I saw him. However, an attack would probably stop him from producing the wall of fog that he longed to use for cover to get to the fountain.
I slipped my left hand into my coat pocket and grabbed a globe-shaped bottle of garlic juice. While it worked more as a repellant than a killing agent, it should break his focus, but unfortunately turn his attention directly at me. Since I had used the darkness and shadows to my advantage to move to this position, my father, Jacques, and the others had no idea I had moved. But if I didn’t act now, the situation we faced would become far more dangerous.
I lobbed the glass globe toward the center of the adjoining main street, hoping he was standing in the center. When the glass shattered, an aggravated growl emitted. “Fool!”
Before he moved, I took a vial of holy water and doused it over my face, throat, and the front of my overcoat. He rushed toward me, from the cube of fog, and gripped my throat tightly, but only for a moment.
Blisters puffed on his fingers, popping, and oozing as he yanked away. I drove forward with the stake, but he noticed my advance and backhanded me hard enough to pivot me into the air. I dropped hard to the cobblestone square and my stake rolled out of reach.
“Now!” I yelled.
From the shadows, Jacques and Rusk snarled and ran toward Raginwulf. My jaw ached and my head spun with dizziness. I crawled toward my stake, shaking my head, trying to clear my vision. When I grabbed the stake, I rolled to my side to see Rusk being flung into the air.
Jacques gnashed his teeth and raked his sharp claws through Raginwulf’s overcoat, apparently slicing all the way through the cloth, his vest, and into the vampire’s flesh. The vampire shrieked, clutched his chest, and backed away, feeling and examining his injury.
Rusk brushed himself off and in a blur he was at Jacques’ side, trying to corner the vampire. Raginwulf was gone in a blink’s time. Jacques and Rusk turned and looked around, trying to find him.
I pushed myself to my feet, staggering slightly. Trenton had hit me relentlessly but never with such impact.
My father stood beside me. “You okay, son?”
I nodded. “I’m standing. Where’d he go?”
Before anyone offered a reply, the wet-nurse screamed. We rushed toward the fountain. Raginwulf yanked the bundle from her arms, but she didn’t have Varak. He hefted her with one hand and thrust her into the pool. Water splashed and he turned, approaching Matilda. Before he reached her, she burst from her seat. He jerked back in surprise when she lunged forward, snarling. She bit his left arm and slashed across his abdomen with a vicious swipe, nearly gutting him.
He grabbed her hair at the back of her head and yanked with such force that she yelped in pain. In a flash, he had drawn his long serrated dagger and plunged it into her gut, twisting it in rage while growling.
“No!” Jacques shouted. He tore into a sprint, striking Raginwulf dead center in his back, propelling the vampire forward.
Matilda fell to the cobblestone, clutching the knife in her stomach. Pain twisted her wolfish face as she ripped the blade out. She lay there, panting and whimpering.
Raginwulf staggered, trying to fling Jacques off his back, but couldn’t. Jacques snarled, biting into Raginwulf’s shoulder and shaking his head like a dog with a toy. The vampire wailed, turned, and slammed Jacques hard against the wall of the closest building. The impact jarred Jacques enough for him to release his hold. A look of triumph loomed on the vampire’s face for a moment. Then one of the magical stakes we had hidden shot through the air toward him.
Raginwulf was fast. Before the stake struck his heart, he turned enough that it missed its mark. Instead, it spiked into his left biceps, almost tearing his arm in half. He winced and flashed fangs.
Jacques reeled in pain, rising slowly to his feet. He shook his head and glanced at the vampire with pure hatred. Matilda lay sprawled near the fountain, blood pouring from her gut. Jacques took two steps toward Raginwulf, but the vampire shot forward with incredible speed, clutching Esmeralda’s throat and lifting her off the ground.
“I will take my son now,” Raginwulf said in a near hiss. His eyes glowed crimson red.
She spat in his face, clutching Varak tightly in both arms. “I’ll die first, but not before you.”
Another magical stake shot from a statue near the square. He lowered her slightly and the stake caught her right calf. She cried out in pain.
Raginwulf laughed. “I will feast off you after you have suffered death.”
Esmeralda stared into his eyes with sudden boldness, laughing as well, which confused the vampire. Several more stakes shot through the air. He lowered her and vanished. The stakes halted midair and dropped into the water fountain where the wet-nurse thrashed, trying to get to her feet.
Father and I neared the fountain where Es
meralda limped back to the bench and sat down. She reached down and gripped the stake, yanking it out. Strangely, it didn’t appear to have gone very deep.
“Where did he go?” I asked.
Blood droplets hung in the air on the other side of the fountain like a soft moving mist. A blood mist like we had seen in the abandoned warehouse. In this form, we couldn’t harm him, but he couldn’t take the child, either.
Jacques knelt beside Matilda. She wasn’t moving or breathing.
I swallowed at the lump rising in my throat and hurried to them.
Hurt and anger claimed Jacques. He pulled her to him, closing his eyes tightly, squeezing out tears.
“Is she dead?” I asked.
He clung to her and shook his head. “No, but she nearly died.”
Father picked up the blade off the street. “It’s not silver.”
I released a sharp sigh.
“She’ll heal,” Jacques whispered. “But whatever magic she has used for enchants on the stakes and our medallions are gone.”
Esmeralda leaned over Varak, rocking him slightly. Even with all the disturbances, the child had never cried. The wet-nurse stood from the water and stepped onto the cobblestone beside the bench where Esmeralda rocked the child. Water cascaded off her soaked clothes. Her eyes focused on Varak.
On the other side of the fountain the blood mist hung, slowly beading together like rain droplets collect and connect on a glass pane.
I nudged my father and nodded toward the accumulating mass. In minutes I expected Raginwulf would reappear and return to his pursuit of killing Esmeralda to get Varak. Rusk joined us. “Get ready. He’s not gone.”
Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Book 2]: Blood Mists of London Page 26