Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Book One]

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  “The baron attacked my family first,” I replied. “He has made an enemy out of me. I retaliated for what he did.”

  “And after today, he considers both parties are even.”

  “Meaning he and I? A truce is what he’s proposing?”

  The man gave a solemn nod but couldn’t suppress his fear.

  I gave a nod in return, but I didn’t indicate that the battle between the baron and I was over. After all, Bodi was still alive . . . well, undead. I wouldn’t be satisfied with any truce as long as the child remained cursed as a vampire.

  “May I leave?” he asked.

  I stared at him for several minutes, contemplating whether I should allow him to leave or not. Finally, I nodded. “Go.”

  He closed his eyes with relief. “Thank you.”

  He tore into a sprint, running back toward the marketplace. Sliding my dagger into its sheath, I grabbed my father’s hand. “Come, Father. Let’s get home to Momma. I imagine she has a fine meal prepared.”

  “What did he mean by the two vampire hunters that you sent after the baron?”

  “It’s a long story,” I replied.

  “We have time. It’s still a good walk until we reach the cottage.”

  “True.”

  So as we walked I told him what had transpired on that day when the two hunters at the frozen brook confronted me. It was enough to pass the time.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Arriving at the cottage about three quarters of an hour later, I noticed no smoke rising from the chimney, which was odd, given that it was chilly outside and my mother was often cold natured.

  After I had told Father about the events with the two vampire hunters, my mind went back to thinking and sorting through various bits of information. Perhaps I should have been a sleuth since I spent the majority of my time analyzing every different angle of each situation, near to the point of madness at times, even as a child. If this was a trait the vampire hunters were gifted, it wasn’t a bad one and was something to use to my advantage during my hunts.

  The baron’s nameless servant had made mention that the servants weren’t actual vampires but were controlled by the master vampire. They were still human. They were able to move about and do whatever their master bid during the daylight when a vampire wasn’t able to. Why would a human yield himself as a servant for the undead? What did he stand to benefit?

  I didn’t know.

  I wondered why the baron considered us even. Father would have been the first strike against us. I considered sending the two hunters after the baron as my strike back. In my mind that’s what made us even. However, the baron had considered something else as my first strike that I had not. Nor did I later. But this miscalculation on my part forever changed my life. This was what Rose had seen and what she had refused to tell me. The information, as she had said, would have come too late, and because she knew, she was heartbroken.

  Father and I left the main road and walked down the narrow path that led to our front door. The door was closed, but I sensed something amiss. An uneasiness rose inside me. My hand reached for the hilt of my dagger.

  Father must have sensed something was wrong, too, as he slowed his pace and swallowed hard, glancing toward me. His face paled. He eased closer to the door and from the edge of the woodpile, someone moved.

  Father grabbed the doorknob and turned.

  In a blur, the man was beside me, shaking his head. “Forrest,” he said. “Don’t go inside.”

  Jacques?

  Father pushed the door wide and entered. A second later he wailed with a sound I’d never heard before and certainly never expected to come from him.

  I took a step, but Jacques grabbed my arm firmly and pulled me aside. “Don’t go inside, Forrest. You mustn’t.”

  Tears crested in his eyes, and I felt them burning at the edges of mine. My throat tightened. I felt numb even before I knew for certain, but I kept walking. I had to know. I needed to see. He pulled harder, trying to dissuade me, but I was stronger, kept walking, pulling him with me.

  “Please, Forrest,” he said, pulling backwards, digging his boots into the ground, but he wasn’t able to stop me.

  The world seemed far away, in so many ways. I heard and saw my environment, but the sensation was different, like I wasn’t inside my body. I felt light, floating.

  Jacques had told me the night we had talked that we would meet again, and that sorrow would bring us together. He hadn’t lied.

  Father knelt on the floor, shaking, wailing. At my age, I had never seen so much blood. I didn’t know a body contained so much blood. Momma’s body lay on the floor, lifeless. Her dead eyes were wide open, frozen in horror.

  My knees buckled as I set my down my hunter box. Jacques wrapped his arms up beneath my underarms as he caught me from behind. He eased me to the ground, outside the door, and allowed me to sit. He pulled the door closed, leaving my father on the floor beside my mother’s body.

  Anguish creased his face. He was speaking to me while placing a hand upon my shoulder, but my shock prevented me from hearing anything he had said. Silence swallowed me. Coldness crept inside me. Chill bumps covered me. I shook from all of the cold. My stomach felt hollow. I stared blankly at him.

  I’m not sure how much time had transpired before I finally became aware of my surroundings, but Jacques sat in front of me. Father’s wailing had ceased, replaced by heaving sobs.

  My eyes met Jacques’. “Who did this?”

  “His body is behind the woodpile.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.”

  “I don’t know who he was. But he’s dead. I ripped his throat out.”

  “He was human?”

  Jacques nodded.

  “The baron sent him.”

  “Baron Randolph?”

  “Yes.”

  “What makes you so certain?” he asked.

  I explained the human servant we had encountered in Bucharest.

  “He considers this even?” Jacques asked, pointing toward the door.

  I frowned, reaching for my hunter box. “That’s what his other servant told me.”

  “He’s a fool.”

  “He has guaranteed that I will kill him,” I replied, forcing myself back to my feet.

  Jacques stood and offered his hand to help me up. I accepted.

  “No offense, Forrest, but you’re not seasoned enough to face him. He’s baiting you, hoping to draw you into his lair so he can use his minions to kill you. Apparently, he fears you.”

  “He should’ve left well enough alone,” I replied.

  “I see you have your hunter’s box?”

  “Father took me to get it today.”

  Jacques studied it for a few moments and then he grinned. “I’d ask to see it, but the crafter must have something against my kind.”

  “The silver?”

  He nodded.

  “He never indicated such,” I said.

  “I admire the man’s skill. Nice box. I’m sure its contents are well-crafted as well?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve not inspected them yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s something I wish to do in private.”

  “Ah.”

  I stared at him for a few moments and then I gazed past him toward the woodpile. I walked past Jacques. I needed to see who had killed Momma. As I got nearer, I wondered how it was that the servant happened to arrive at the cottage on the exact day when Father was taking me into the city. It was almost as though the baron had expected my father and I to leave my mother alone.

  An undead vampire or creature might have been stalking the cottage for a long period of time without the need to feed, but a human servant could not. Could he?

  “Do you not find it odd,” I asked Jacques, “that this man knew the precise moment when we had left our cottage?”

  “It is peculiar,” he replied.

  Anger welled inside me, fueled by my intensifying rage. My even voice became deep, di
fferent, when I spoke. I can’t explain it, but I was no longer a child. “I’ve waited each night for the baron to attack since my father had nearly died. Watched and waited. Nothing. No attempts to break into our cottage during the night. No trace of a single footprint outside our home the following mornings. And today, the first day that we ventured outside of the forest, he sends this servant to kill my mother.”

  Jacques eyes grew fierce. For a few moments, I saw the beast inside him desiring to break free. “I know.”

  “Tell me something, cousin,” I said. My jaw tightened.

  “Anything,” he replied.

  “Is it also coincidence that you arrived today as well?”

  The question didn’t anger him, but his expression indicated that it hurt him, cutting him deep inside. “What are you insinuating? That I had anything to do with this?”

  “How did you know to come here? Today, of all days?”

  Jacques sighed and turned.

  “Don’t dare turn away from me!” My hand was on my dagger without a thought of even doing so. “Look into my eyes and reply. How did you know?”

  Now, my cousin was angry. His gaze into my eyes looked more animal than human. His features hardened. In a split second, he could have turned and attacked me, only I didn’t know that. He fought against his inner beast not to do so. His eyes darkened like a wolf and long canine teeth formed in his mouth.

  “Forrest,” he hissed, forming tight fists. Drool formed at the sides of his mouth. Thicker hair appeared on his hands and his cheeks. “I would never attack my family. You are still a boy. The circumstances behind what I am and what you’re becoming, they are new to you. Do not expect to understand everything in only a few days. It will take the better part of a lifetime for you to learn. You will need allies. You will find few. I am your family and your ally.”

  I removed my hand from the dagger with remorse. “My apologies, Jacques. I reacted from—”

  “I understand your reaction, Forrest, and your anger. You have every reason to lash out from hostility and hatred, but not at me. To answer your question, I came to your cottage because I sensed in my spirit that your mother was hurt. I got here too late.”

  “She was already dead?”

  He nodded. Slowly, his features were returning to normal. “Yes. She was dead, and I followed his scent into the forest. When I found him, I killed him and brought him back.”

  I stared down at the dead man. The gaping bloody hole in his throat was dark. The blood was drying. My rage didn’t lessen because he was dead. In many ways, I wished that Jacques had allowed me to kill this man, but justice was done.

  Like the man who had deceived us on the street, this dead man’s eyes held fear and hopelessness. But in appearance, he looked nothing like the other servant. This man was fair skinned with light hair and blue eyes, which meant the baron didn’t favor strictly one particular stereotype. So his servants could be any nationality, male or female, and not easy to distinguish. The baron was resourceful and he hated me. I was guessing that his hatred toward me paled in comparison to mine for him.

  “But how would the baron have known we were gone?”

  “He probably had spies.”

  “These servants.”

  Jacques shook his head. “No. A master vampire can control certain animals. Rats, bats, and owls.”

  “Wolves?” I said, looking at him.

  He gave a half smile. “Not this wolf.”

  “I need to check on Father.”

  He clasped my shoulder in passing. Once I was past, he followed me. I pushed open the door. My father held Momma’s hand in between his, pressing it to his cheek. He sobbed. I don’t think he even knew we had come inside. Seeing the agony on his face was another reason I didn’t want to seek a wife. Not that I didn’t want to ever know love and companionship, but I didn’t wish to put another into harm’s way.

  For a moment, although I don’t know why, I saw myself in my father’s place with Rose being the one dead. That was how grim my outlook on life was. I turned away.

  Father needed to deal with his grief. I did, too, but not until the baron was dead. I wanted anger to rule me as I sought to find him. I headed back outside. Jacques followed.

  Once outside, he shut the door.

  “Have you ever heard of Dominus?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, who is he?”

  “Another vampire hunter. One I need to talk to and see if he will train me.”

  “How did you learn of him?”

  “From the man who built my box.”

  “Where does this hunter reside?”

  “Not sure. But I was told that he hunts at midnights on Saturdays in the east cemetery. He shouldn’t be hard to find.”

  “That’s tomorrow night. I will accompany you,” Jacques said.

  “No. You don’t have to.”

  “I need to, Forrest. The baron might have said that you and he were even, but he knows killing your mother will send you after him. He’s counting on it. He’ll have spies in the forest, Bucharest, and quite possibly near the cemeteries. For all you know, he might have watched all of your activity while you were in the city. He’s not going to ease up his pursuit, even though he has said he will. He will try to kill you before you gain any experience at killing vampires.”

  “I appreciate your offer, but—”

  “Without me, you won’t go.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No, of course not. It simply means that I offer you my assistance and an extra set of eyes. Don’t forget that I am seasoned as a fighter. I have experience. I can get the best of you in a grappling match, regardless of how much you outsize and outweigh me.”

  I nodded. I knew he was telling the truth, at least right now.

  “Besides,” he said, “I can sense his presence if he’s close-by. He might even try to control me, which would give me his exact location.”

  “I can sense him, too. And what prevents him from taking control of you?”

  He pulled his medallion from beneath his shirt. “This. It is blessed by a priest, preventing vampires from taking control of my wolf.”

  “You used that to produce the explosive silver light.”

  Jacques smiled. “Your father told you my secret?”

  “Part of it. Where is your cane?”

  “Against the tree.”

  “What should I do about my father?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With Momma dead, what becomes of him? He’s not physically able to fight vampires anymore. I know his rage will insist otherwise.”

  “You’d deny him the opportunity to seek his revenge? He’d hate you for doing so.”

  I thought about it for a few moments. “You’re right. He would.”

  “Understand something, Forrest. He and your mother loved one another greatly. His legs might be stiff and slower since he has healed, but mentally, he’s sharp. He’s killed a few vampires. He will be needed in the fight. As badly as he’ll want to see Randolph dead, you’ll have no chance of stopping him from trying.”

  “I don’t want to lose him, too. I lack the expertise to watch out for him and myself.”

  “Don’t insult him, Forrest. He won’t want you to even consider trying to protect him. Stubborn men don’t die easily. Just think about what he’s already survived.”

  My mind revisited finding him barely alive at the foot of our cottage door. His will power to survive was remarkable. If his need for revenge was a tenth of that, I doubted the baron had ever seen that level of rage. The baron had created a foe that would never relent in his seeking vengeance.

  I thought about what Jacques said. The baron might have watched our entire visit to the city through his servants’ eyes. I immediately worried about Rose’s safety. Her father kept himself locked behind an iron door, deep underground, but she resided on the upper floor. Even though he had said that she had power capable of keeping herself safe, I held my doubts. I could only hope that the
baron was ignorant of our visit to the shop. Otherwise, their safety and anonymity had been exposed.

  When my father and I had crossed through the slums, no one had followed us. We could have easily seen them on the street behind us. So there was a good chance that they didn’t know. However, the servant who had spoken to me kept his attention on my hunter box. He seemed overly interested in its contents. I held no doubt that he’d inform the baron that I now had it in my possession, but I didn’t know whether the baron would recognize the woodworking or not. Were there any others in the city who built boxes for hunters? I didn’t know.

  The cottage door creaked open. My father staggered to the threshold and leaned upon the doorframe to hold himself up. His eyes were red. His face was drawn in. I had never seen this man in shambles. Everything about him was different. He seemed to have aged several decades.

  “First the sorrow,” Jacques whispered to me. “Then comes the rage.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rage left unchecked wasn’t a bad thing when it was used to hunt down a murderer. Such fury buried the ache of loss for a period of time. However, if the vengeance wasn’t fulfilled within a short amount of time, the mind lingered closer to insanity as the relentless pursuit to find the target obsessed the soul.

  Jacques and I had done our best to scrub the cottage floor clean where Momma had been slaughtered. But blood cannot be fully removed from hardwood floorboards as the stain goes deep, so we placed a tan deerskin over the spot.

  We had buried my mother near the patch of wild crocuses. They were her favorite flower, and she had often sat near the large tree admiring their beauty on the warmer early spring days. I cherished the thought that she’d rest peacefully in her one place of serenity she had treasured when she was still alive.

  Nightfall had long passed as we approached the east cemetery to find Dominus. The gas-lit streetlamps ended short of the cemetery, adding a more sinister display to the gravestones, especially when the near full moon shone overhead, creating odd shadows that occasionally moved. Spindly leafless trees formed strange silhouettes. The night air was crisp, forming frosty clouds from our mouths and noses as we walked.