Darkness Falling

by David Niall Wilson

  ~*~

  Almost as soon as Rosa and Klaus had gone, Alex made his own departure with a flourish. Copper watched him go with wary eyes, knowing only too well that there was now nothing between the two of them but the hatred, and that this posed a very real threat.

  "We have to leave this place, tonight," he said finally. "We can take the car, Rosa won't need it, and Alex can't drive."

  Alicia smiled. "There is no real hurry, though," she smiled. "There is plenty of fuel, and we can drive on through the day with the tinted windows. I feel like a celebration is in order."

  He smiled at her then and drew her close. They had had little time alone together since his transformation, and now they had an eternity. This was the beginning, this night. Perhaps she was right; it would be a shame to lose the moment.

  They slid together to one of the couches, wrapped in such a tight embrace that it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Clothing disappeared in whispers of cotton and silk. He felt the rush of the past night's blood in her veins, and it excited him. He almost saw it through the creamy translucence of her skin, and it brought a hunger not exactly that of the previous night, but very powerful in its own way.

  He gave himself to her completely, letting her trace small scratches across his back with her nails and feeling the caress of her teeth as they playfully tugged at the skin of his throat. It was hours before thought returned.

  ~*~

  Alex was feeling very, very nasty. He moved about the hillside in a barely controlled rage. Abandoned. No more use. One day this newcomer Klaus was among them and now he was an outcast. He who had stood by her side for all these years, who had hunted with her, tolerated her sadistic tortures, and shared her blood. He, who was the rightful partner for her eternity, had been cast aside.

  He wanted to kill. The blood lust rose and he was unable, and unwilling, to quench it. He didn't hunger, it was too soon for that. Still, he knew he was nearing a dangerous loss of control, and he couldn't seem to concentrate. The anger was too powerful. The betrayal was too complete. Once again he was alone in the night, just as he had been after leaving his brother and his ungrateful family so long ago.

  He skirted the tree line and scanned the streets for a target. Anyone or anything he might use to vent the rage that was welling up inside, threatening to overcome him.

  Just ahead he saw a couple walking along the street toward a row of cottages. It was the guitarist from that damned band, he realized. He didn't recognize the woman at his side, but that didn't matter. She was lovely, and she would be perfect. He moved ahead of them into the shadows near the last cottage.

  "He'll be back, Damon. You worry too much," the girl said as they approached. "Klaus may be arrogant, self-serving, and hard to get along with, but he would never just get up and leave without telling someone."

  "I don't know," Damon replied, shaking his head. "It just worries me, that's all. He's been acting pretty strange lately."

  "I wouldn't expect him any time soon," Alex said, his voice like brittle, cracking ice. "He is – preoccupied."

  Damon and Melissa stopped in their tracks, openly staring as Alex stepped into sight in the road ahead of them. His hair was long and waving, and his as eyes as dark as dying suns. He stood imperiously, as though disdainful of their very existence. And he looked crazy.

  "Who are you?" Damon asked, placing himself protectively between the man in the road before him and Melissa. "And what do you know about Klaus?"

  "I owe you no answers," Alex sneered. "You will never see your friend again, even if he returns. You have had the misfortune of meeting me instead."

  He moved with blinding speed and struck Damon a backhand swipe that sent him reeling against the wall of the nearest cottage. The young guitarist tried to rise, to come to his senses, but a second slap sent his head rocking back against the stone wall, and he was out, lying limp on the cool ground.

  Before she could turn to run, or even get off more than half a scream, Alex had Melissa in a tight grip, one hand covering her mouth. With no more effort than a parent carrying off a struggling child, he slung her over his shoulder and headed up the mountain.

  Melissa fought wildly, and Alex smiled. The touch of her warm flesh against his arm was invigorating. He sensed the rich red blood flowing beneath her skin. This, combined with the fear that permeated the air around them, was a delicious combination. He hurried, wanting to get enough distance between himself and the village that no one would hear her scream.

  Only moments before he'd thought of nothing but carnage and destruction. Now his rage focused itself into an instinctive cunning. There was no hurry to kill this one. She was delectable, young and lovely. Why not do as Rosa had done? He would need a suitable companion, sooner or later, why not tonight? Why not begin his new freedom with the acquisition of a worthy partner?

  The more he considered the possibilities, the more right it seemed. Finally satisfied that he'd gone far enough, he spun Melissa around to face him and gripped her shoulders with vice-like strength.

  "You may struggle all you like," he said, leering, "but there is nothing you can do. You are mine now, as your friend Klaus is hers, and there is no turning back."

  She screamed then, long and hard, but he knew that, if it could be heard in the village at all, it would be faint and indistinct. Holding her as much with the power of his eyes as with his hands, he drew her forward, relishing his complete control of the moment. It had been a very long time since he'd held such control over anyone. Too long. How could he have been satisfied as Rosa's lap dog?

  He brought Melissa's throat to his lips, felt the terrified trembling of her skin, and pressed his teeth almost gently against her. He held her head still with one hand. Her hands beat against him, a rhythm of despair, accompanying the pulsing flow of her blood. He savored the moment, and then sank his fangs in deep, shuddering at the pure pleasure of her taste.

  As soon as her blood began to flow, Melissa stopped her struggles. First she grew limp in his arms, and then, drawn in by the sensation, she began to press into his embrace. There was nothing she could have done to fight it; it was a bonding, a psychic link. A sharing. Even through her terror she felt the obscene allure of his strength, the sensual tug of his presence. Though her mind continued to scream, she could not loose herself from his arms, and she felt herself draining slowly away, becoming lost in whirling streams of sensation and fear. She was not aware when he stopped, just short of completion, and draped her over his shoulder.

  There was no hurry. He knew they would be looking for the girl, and for the singer, especially since he'd foolishly left the guitarist alive, but Alex didn't truly believe that they would have the nerve, or the intelligence, to look beneath the Inn. He carried her back toward the village, moving swiftly and silently, intent on his goal. He would savor her over the hours of the day, and then complete the transformation by nightfall. They could be up and gone with plenty of time to reach shelter by the following night. In wolf form the miles would disappear rapidly, there would be plenty of time.

  I'm going to enjoy this, he told his new partner silently. Very much.

  ~*~

  The sound of the outer door being opened alerted Copper and Alicia that someone was coming. It took them a few moments to register that it was Alex. Why would he use the door?

  Then they saw her. Draped over Alex's shoulder like a sack of grain was a young woman, long blonde hair dangling nearly to the ground. The fresh blood scent was strong, and they saw the blood falling in soft, wet drops falling from the holes in her throat.

  "What have you done?" Alicia hissed, rising rapidly to her feet. "Have you lost your mind?"

  Dropping his burden onto the nearest of the couches, Alex spun to face her, eyes ablaze. "Do not think to question me now, little sister," he snarled. "There is no more Rosa to protect you or your sniveling little man-thing friend. I have picked this one as a companion, and I have taken her. There is no more to consider."

  "You
are a fool," Alicia said softly. "More of a fool than even I suspected. They will be here, and it will not take them long. Do you think that fear alone will protect you indefinitely? Do you think you can just walk into their homes, steal their sons and daughters, and walk away unscathed? Little brother," and she sneered when she said this, obviously not concerned if she provoked him, "you are not a god."

  Alex never even waited to answer. He moved even as she finished speaking. "We shall see," he hissed, "who is, and who is not a god."

  Copper moved without thought. He moved more quickly than he had ever moved in the days of his existence, and still he felt as though he were locked into some sort of surreal slow motion. Alicia slipped from beneath Alex's lunge easily, like smoke, but he spun like a cat and lunged for her again. He seemed to have forgotten Copper for the moment, and this possibly saved one of their lives.

  "You will not touch her," Copper grated as his fist swung out, catching the other on the point of his chin and sending him reeling. Copper took the advantage and leaped atop Alex's fallen form, arms pistoning, raining blow after blow on his opponent's stunned face. It was deceptive.

  Shaking like a bull ridding itself of flies, Alex tossed Copper aside, turned on him and lunged for his throat. It was the last mistake the angry, powerful vampire would ever make. Alicia, momentarily forgotten, grabbed Alex's silver flute from its stand near the wall and streaked into the fray, lifting it high over her head.

  Copper knew that, transformation or not, he was looking into the face of his death. Alex was beyond thought, his face drawn back in a horrible rictus that bared his fangs to the top of his gums. His eyes no longer blazed, they were empty, deep whirling voids. He felt the man's talon-like fingers ripping into the flesh of his throat, and he brought his knees up hard, thrust them into Alex's mid-section and pushed with all his might.

  There was a momentary slackening of the pressure at his throat, but only momentary. He felt as though his head were being forcibly ripped from his neck. He reached out and clawed at Alex's eyes and swung wildly at his head, all to no avail. Just as reality whirled and he was certain he'd seen the last moment of his life, it ended.

  With stunning force, unseen and unheeded, Alicia brought the flute down into the base of Alex's neck. It didn't glance off, or merely crack the bone, it pierced him. The mouthpiece entered the skin first, popping through sinew and bone, tearing muscles and ripping veins asunder to pour out Melissa's freshly stolen blood.

  There was a hideous scream. It was probably not the sound, in itself, that sent shudders rushing up and down Copper's trembling body, but the psychic aftermath, the echoing reverberations of the dying vampire that blasted him backward and pinned him against the wall helplessly. Alex released him, gripping the silver tube that impaled his throat. His eyes were down-turned, staring at the instrument dumbly. Then he screamed again, and Copper passed out, knocked unconscious by the emotional and mental impact.

  His final thought as he passed into darkness was, I never dreamed how closely we were all linked. I never dreamed…

  ~*~

  Alicia was the first thing he saw when he came to. She leaned over him urgently and poured a small cup of blood into his mouth and talking in a calm, soothing stream.

  "I'm sorry, love," she was saying, over and over again. "I didn't know he would be so wild. I didn't know what would happen if he died. I'm sorry."

  He shook his head and rose to stand on wobbly legs, his strength returning rapidly. Alex lay in a far corner. He was decaying fast, as though everything that had held him together, every ounce of life, had drained from him in a sudden rush. Still, against all sanity, he moved.

  "We have to get out of here," Copper said, gesturing at the girl. "I don't know if anyone will have heard him, or if they would come here if they did, but they will be looking for her. The fool has brought more trouble than we could have found ourselves in weeks."

  Nodding quickly, she moved about the room, gathering a few essential things, and the two of them headed for the garage. The car awaited them, tinted windows like black slate against the pitch darkness. It would be tricky. Copper had never had to do this from the car; he'd always been able to move freely about in the light.

  "I'll get the door," she said, and he saw the hesitation in her eyes. "I've been this way longer," she explained, touching his shoulder lightly. "I'll be of no use for a day or so, but I'll survive. Once I'm in, you have to get us out of here. They'll probably chase us, but surprise is on our side, and this is a fast car. It is designed for just such moments as this."

  Copper knew it was true. He'd driven the car long enough that it felt like a part of him. The wheel felt good in his hands, it fit. He was glad they would have it, glad that they would be gone, finally. But he was worried. He'd never seen one of the others in the daylight, and the dawn most certainly had come to the village. When Alicia opened that door, she would be full in the sunlight, unshielded and in danger.

  She moved quickly, braced herself, and threw the door wide with a quick surge of strength. She was already moving backward when the light hit, and her scream was nearly as powerful as Alex's had been. She staggered and fell heavily against the fender of the car, scratching and scrabbling her way down the side to the open door. She tripped, and he was afraid she'd go down, but she didn't. With a supreme effort of will she swung herself around the door and into the car and pulled the door closed desperately in her wake.

  Copper floored the gas, and the big black car spun out of the garage, spitting gravel and dirt into the faces of the approaching group. He saw the priest, and two of the young musicians. They had been just in time. He spun around them, barely missed the thin, longhaired guitarist who leaped crazily forward, flinging himself at the front of the limo, and they were gone. There was no chance of immediate pursuit, and Copper concentrated on putting as much distance between them and the village behind as possible.

  There were plenty of places they could go within a few days drive. He had one in particular in mind, a cavernous ruin about 500 miles away that they had used on one other near-miss occasion. It had been Alex that time, as well, who had caused the problems.

  On the seat beside him, Alicia moaned softly, covering her eyes with her hands. He reached over and gently pulled one hand free. What he saw almost made him run the car off the road. It was a raw, empty socket. She quickly covered her face again, and he saw that the backs of her hands, her arms, all of her exposed skin was dry like parchment. Burned.

  "Alicia," he began, but she hissed at him to be silent.

  "It will pass," she rasped. "Drive. Just drive." He felt her pain, their link being close, and he shivered. He didn't know if he could have withstood it himself. He would have prayed that she did, but he wasn't sure if there was anyone for him to pray to any longer. Rosa had been the closest to a deity in his life for years, and now she was gone. He wondered if they'd cross paths again.

  The village fell away behind them like a dream, and he did not look back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Damon stumbled into the cottage, flipped on the lights and started screaming. Peyton was nowhere to be seen, and Sebastian threw his clothes on as quickly as he could, trying to calm his friend enough to make out his incoherent story. Damon's head was cut, blood dripping in long, sticky rivulets down the sides of his face, and his eyes were wild and even more haunted than usual.

  "For god's sake, Sebastian, hurry," he moaned. "That bastard has Melissa! We have to go and get her, and I don't think I can do it alone. Damn my head hurts."

  Sebastian cursed Peyton for being absent just when a big lug like himself would come in useful, and nearly jumped into his boots. He was reaching for the doorknob when a knock sounded on the other side. He swung it wide, and came face to face with Father Adolph.

  "I heard the strangest scream," the old priest said, obviously excited, "and…"

  He stopped when he saw Damon's face. "My God in heaven. What happened?"

  "No time," Sebastian said,
motioning him quickly back outside and starting off at a trot. "One of those people under the Inn, whoever they are, knocked Damon for a loop and ran off with Melissa. We have to get there before it's too late."

  The real question, Sebastian told himself as he ran, was just what was it that they were hoping they weren't too late for? What kind of psycho had Klaus hooked up with? He couldn't believe his friend would have ever gone along willingly with any activity that harmed one of the band, or Melissa, so while Damon worried about Melissa, Sebastian worried, as well, for Klaus. Had he been the first order of business, and Melissa the dessert?

  The Inn wasn't far away, and they rounded the corner of the building with Sebastian in the lead and Damon at his side, his hand pressed tightly against the wound on his head. They ran full tilt, and so were completely unprepared when the wall of the Inn slid upward, revealing a garage behind, and the long black limo roared out. It narrowly missed the group as they scattered. Damon, obviously fearing that Melissa was inside, dove for the front of the vehicle, almost getting himself run over for his trouble.

  Sebastian couldn't see the driver or any passengers. The windows were tinted the deepest black he'd ever seen. There was no way light could have penetrated it. Even the windshield was coated, and the thought of a man, or a woman, who could drive with such an impediment to vision sent a shiver through him. What sort of things had they come across?

  He shook these thoughts off and entered the shadowy garage as cautiously as he could without slowing his advance. If something bad had happened inside, they might need every second. If something terrible awaited them, moving more slowly wouldn't help either. He saw the door in the side wall of the hidden garage, threw himself at it, and yanked it open.

  He had to hesitate for a second, then, because the light outside had been fairly bright, and this place was like the inside of a tomb. With the exception of the sliver of light that was following him in the door, the place was awash in pure darkness. He could make out only vague outlines of furniture, at first. The stench was horrible, and the air was dank – very chill.