He thought about it. In retrospect, he realized he'd heard her and accepted it on the surface, but deep down he had not believed that it was true. It had seemed like a dark, seductive fantasy. The immensity of it all was beginning to come through.
This woman lying at his side had slept with his grandfather. She had been living in this castle, off and on, for over three hundred years. She had lived by borrowing, cajoling, and at times stealing the blood of other living beings, and now he was as she. A thing of the night. A creature that lived at the expense of others.
He searched her face, the supple lines and curves of her body, trying to find a trace, any indication of the touch of years. There was none. Only in her eyes, the dark intelligence and the flashing depths of her emotion, could he see anything to make him believe.
She seemed so sincere. He felt the need of him in her touch and read her hunger from the expressions that painted her face. He also knew she sensed the same in him. The addiction. He was quite certain, though he could not have explained it, that he would be in agony without her, that the emptiness she would leave would be unbearable. All of this he saw, or felt, or sensed. But there was still something, quick flashes he would catch of a darker smile, or a quick, predatory glimmer in her eyes, that chilled him.
She said she had waited for him. Why? Why him? Her answers seemed vague, and nothing else about her was in any way vague. He was certain that there were things that she was hiding from him, and after the way she'd cast the others aside down in the village, it was something to think about. Instead of confronting her, which would probably have gotten only more of the same types of response, he asked about the castle, about her own past.
"I don't know anything about you," he said. Her hair was splayed across him like a sheet of flame, and he ran his fingers through its length in fascination. "I saw so much of your past, but somehow it falls short."
"What would you like to know?" she asked him. "What would matter? I have lived so long that lives blend together. There are times when I have trouble remembering which faces and which times fit together. My father was a lord here, so long ago that the mountain itself has changed.
"He built this castle, or, more precisely, he built the castle that originally stood here. Invaders tore it down once, after his death. I had it rebuilt. In those days the villagers were not so frightened. They suspected that something was different about this place, but they respected the wealth of my family. Those were good years. Everything was still new and fresh to me."
Her voice took on a far away, yearning tone. All at once he had another perspective of her age, of how the years must weigh on her soul. To live so long might not be the blessing it would seem at first. How lonely could one grow over a hundred years? Two?
"I made an almost fatal error soon after the second castle was built," she continued. "I fell in love. He did not know what I was, and I didn't tell him, at first. He seemed to love me, as well, and I planned to transform him, to have him by my side. Too late I found out that he sought only my wealth, my power. He found my secrets, for I was naive, and he spread them to the village below.
"They came for me, all of them, but they were fools. They came by night. I slipped from here by my own secret ways, and I took to the hills. They hunted me, but it was they who became the prey. I don't know how many of them I killed. A few I transformed, sending them back to feed on their own families.
"The mountain was mine, and it didn't take them long to realize it. I became a legend, a nightmare tale to tell their children, and the mountain was seldom visited. For a time, that was fine."
"Didn't it get boring," Klaus asked.
"It did. Eventually, though, the hunters began to wander deeper into the forest in search of food, and the years had been long enough that I was barely remembered. I met a young man on the mountain, and I entertained him. He was quite taken." She giggled at this, as though the memory pleased her. "From then on it was one here, another there, all men. The women were none the wiser, because their husbands would not tell what it was that happened on the mountain.
"It was a perfect arrangement, and for many years, it was enough. After a time I found that there was nothing left to amuse me, nothing new here that could hold my attention, and so I made preparations and I began to travel. That is how I found you again."
Now it was Klaus' turn to stiffen. Was she going to go on? Would the answers finally be forthcoming? He could hold back the questions no longer.
"And my father?" he asked. "He never returned from the mountain."
"You are so impatient," she chided. "There are years and centuries to come, and you will know all that I can tell you, but I am weary of the past. I have lived in it for so long now, that all I want is to share the present. Tomorrow night we will go down the mountain a bit, and I will show you more. Things your grandfather and father knew, and your mother only suspected. But now…"
Her voice trailed off and her lips found his flesh again. He tried to pull back. He wanted to know more, to understand, but he was helpless in her embrace. Her hair tickled across his skin as her lips moved back and forth, teasing his nipples and slowly winding their way toward his throat. He gave himself over to the growing heat of her caresses, and there was no more room for worry, or for thought. He could not see her smile.
Chapter Eighteen
The band moved into the largest of the cottages for the night. Damon and Melissa were in one room, Father Adolph and Sebastian in the other, and Claudia took up residence in the main room with a blushing Peyton, who couldn't seem to say enough times that she needn't fear that he would "try anything." It just seemed like the safest arrangement. After the things they'd witnessed earlier that day, none of them wanted any part of being left alone.
Sleep was long in coming to all of them, and they sat up late into the night, hot tea and wine flowing freely. They didn't know exactly what they feared, but whatever it was it was too close to the darkness of closed eyes and sleep to be taken lightly.
The lingering image of the Innkeeper's eyes might have been to blame, or the cold stares of the rest of the villagers. The man had made one vain attempt to dissuade his daughter from joining them, with a surprising second to his opinion from Peyton, who was obviously concerned for her safety, but she just shook her head and grabbed Peyton's arm.
"It is partly our fault, Papa," she said. "If we hadn't lived in fear all these years, none of this might have happened. We should have done this long ago, and I won't watch this man go up that mountain alone to never come back. If I die, then I die. I will not die old and alone."
Sebastian thought, just for a moment, that the man would come himself, that a spark had grown in his eyes at his daughter's words, but in the end, he couldn't. The weight of too many years of terror, and the partial guilt for too many lives was more than he could stand. He hugged her, turned his back, and left without another word. She watched him go with tears in her eyes, but she did not release Peyton's arm.
And so, there they were. Father Adolph had brought a bag containing an odd assortment of paraphernalia, obviously gathered in great haste from what little he had available. There were several crosses; some small clay jars of Holy Water, three Bibles, and a set of silver knives. Sebastian asked him about these last, being curious as to their origin and purpose, and the old priest grinned sheepishly.
"They are from a set that belonged to my mother," he said. "It is all I have left of her, God rest her soul, and if we are to believe the legends, they may come in handy. I have little enough use for them, otherwise."
His words, coupled with the image of the old man, sitting there, all of his arcane "weaponry" and precautions strewn about the table would stay in Sebastian's memory for the rest of his life. The earnest, almost fanatical glint in the old priest's eye brought some of the dark legends he'd mentioned to mind. Sebastian had read Stoker's novel, and was suddenly reminded of Dr. Van Helsing, who hunted the vampire lord to his death. He mused silently on this, hoping the priest would pr
ove as efficient as his fictional counterpart. Sebastian had doubts. This was not a book, and they were not vampire hunters, or hadn't been until that day.
"These legends," Sebastian said, as weariness finally began to overtake him. "Maybe we should combine our knowledge of them. We already know that some of them are true to a point, like the effect of sunlight. I don't know what it would have done to that thing if it had been fully alive, but it definitely hurried its death along near the end."
"And the Holy Water," Father Adolph added. "Once again, we don't know what effect it would have had in any sort of battle, but the bones of the vampyr went up in flames at its touch. This is no small comfort to me, as you might guess."
Sebastian smiled at this. It occurred to him that a man of God might wait an entire lifetime and never see such a sign of the validity of his faith.
"Well," Peyton cut in, "I've seen some movies about this sort of thing, and it seems to me that there are a lot of different opinions on just what will hurt a vampire. In most of them, the older and more powerful the creature was, the harder it was to harm it. By all accounts, this Rosa is pretty damned old."
They hadn't considered this. Who had these creatures been? Where had they come from, and how long had they walked the night, already dead by natural standards? It was a very sobering thought. Obviously, the others had been underlings to the one called Rosa, because once she had what she wanted, Klaus, apparently, she'd discarded them and headed back up the mountain without a backward glance.
"We will just have to see when we get there," Father Adolph said, stifling a yawn. "We must do what we can. For now, I suggest that we all try to get some sleep. I have done some research, even gotten a few questions answered, finally, and I know that our walk up the mountain is not going to be an easy one.
"There is a castle up there and below that lie the remains of a village much older than this one. I am fairly certain that it is in that castle where we will find those we seek. It's a good day's hike just to the lower wall of the old village, and we will want to get there with plenty of daylight left to find shelter."
The others nodded and headed for their separate beds, but Sebastian knew that sleep was going to prove very evasive. He glanced over at Peyton and Claudia as he left the main room and smiled. They were snuggled as closely together as two humans could get, Peyton's huge, bear-like arms circling her protectively. She was kissing him softly, and Sebastian guessed that sleep would not be coming to them immediately, either. At least they would have each other for comfort.
He lay down and dutifully closed his eyes, trying to relax enough to drift off for a few hours of rest, but his mind had other ideas. Visions flashed like a private movie showing across the insides of his eyelids. Klaus, practicing with the band, singing on the mountain, coming to the door with his hair disheveled and his face so white he seemed half dead. Why hadn't they seen that something was wrong?
No answers came, but eventually sleep did. It was not restful.
~*~
They were all up early. By sunrise, even Peyton, who it would normally take a crowbar to pry out of bed before noon, was nursing a cup of coffee and a huge plate of food groggily. For all of their trepidation over the coming journey, they were eager to get an early start.
They were a motley looking crew at best when they mounted the trail leading up the mountain. They carried make-shift knapsacks tied together with bedrolls, food, and sundry items they thought might be of some use. Adventure was in the air, and it was exhilarating, for the moment. Sebastian feared it would be only too soon that this might change for the worse.
It is one thing to square off with the unknown and plan to become the master of your own fate. It is quite another to meet that fate face to face, and that was what they were preparing to do. The gravity of what was to come weighed heavy on his shoulders, and as they continued to climb, it grew heavier still. Was he leading these people, all of whom he cared for, to their deaths? Or, God deny it, worse?
The surrounding forest held no answers. They passed through the clearing and the shrine and crossed into the more difficult going of the woods beyond. There was evidence that there had been a trail in the past, but it was long since overgrown with trailing vines and brambles. It seemed that no one had walked that way in a great while, and for some reason this disturbed Sebastian. The mountain was hunted regularly, and there had to be children playing on the slopes, but this area might not have been touched by human feet in decades.
He kept these thoughts to himself. If Rosa had lived on this mountain as long as everyone seemed convinced that she had, she would know well enough how to get to her own home without leaving traces. All the same, he'd have felt more at ease if he could have seen some sign of their passing. He didn't know what they'd do if they reached this castle and found nobody there.
The countryside grew wilder as they progressed. They stopped just before noon on a slab of uncovered rock to eat a meager lunch. They didn't know how long they'd be up there, and none of them relished the idea of their small store of supplies drying up with a full day's journey down the mountain still to come.
"We should reach the lower wall of the old village sometime around six this evening," Father Adolph said, shielding his eyes against the sun and peering off into the trees that seemed to stretch endlessly above them. "I've been that far on my own, and I've read some of the local history. With luck, we'll be able to find something there that will serve as shelter for the night."
Sebastian felt his heart speed slightly at the thought of being caught without a roof over their heads. Even though it was Klaus they sought, they had no idea how he would react when they found him. They didn't even know if he would still be the Klaus they'd known. Sebastian, for one, couldn't imagine him leaving them without so much as a goodbye if it was within his power to do differently.
They walked in silence, a single file line of foot-weary civilians marching off to war. Sebastian hadn't been aware just how much his lack of exercise was going to affect him. By the middle of the afternoon he was gasping for breath, sweat coating every inch of his body. His legs were holding up fine, but his feet were sore and blistered. It was with great relief that they came upon the first signs of the old village.
They began to see to see evidence of old structures, broken bits of overgrown stone walls and small cleared areas that might once have been the sites of homes and buildings. Sebastian had just sighted the cracked, broken line of the village's outer wall when Peyton called out from the other side of the trail.
"Hey," he said eagerly, "look at this!"
Sebastian was almost sorry when he complied, because what little he'd had to eat that day threatened almost immediately to come back up. It was a rabbit, or the carcass of a rabbit. Flies swarmed and buzzed around it, and its throat had obviously been ripped out. There were paw prints surrounding it on all sides.
"Wolves?" he asked, turning away from the sight in disgust.
"Maybe," Father Adolph answered, bending to inspect the body more closely in the slowly fading afternoon light, "but I don't think so. Wolves would not have left so much meat. Not unless they were disturbed in their feeding. There's something strange about this animal."
He bent even closer, and then he inhaled sharply. "God in heaven," he said, crossing himself and backing away.
"What?" Damon asked, leaving Melissa's side to get his own look at the rabbit's decomposing body. "What is it?"
"The blood," Father Adolph said at last, regaining his composure. "There is no blood."
They all stared then, and Sebastian's veins seemed almost instantly to fill with ice. So there it was, the proof he'd been looking for. They had passed this way almost certainly. But how far had they gone?
He could see that the others were looking about themselves nervously, and he decided they needed to get a camp set as quickly as possible. The idea of a fire and four walls between them and the falling night was growing more appealing by the moment.
They made good tim
e from where they found the rabbit's carcass to the lower wall, and within the limits of the old city there were many structures still pretty much intact. It was obvious that long years had passed since anyone had lived there, but there were signs here and there that hunters might have actually used the place at one time or another.
"Hey," Peyton moved a bit ahead of the rest of us, pointing at a larger building that seemed almost perfectly preserved, "that looks like an Inn!"
And it was. The windows were shuttered and boarded, and the door hung slightly crooked on rusted, broken hinges, but the building was remarkably well-preserved. There was even a sign still hanging by one length of chain above the door.
"The Wolf and Stag."
It was as good a choice as any, and they moved inside quickly. Peyton and Damon set about gathering wood for a fire. Even though the air was not cold, none of them relished the idea of facing the night without light, even if that light attracted the very things they feared. If Rosa, and maybe even Klaus, came after them, they'd just have to be prepared. Sebastian preferred to meet them during the daylight hours, but he also wanted very badly for it all to be over with, even if he was going to die.
While the fire was being laid and Father Adolph bustled about, hanging crosses at the windows and sprinkling Holy Water along the edges of the doorways, Claudia wasn't idle. She took Melissa with her and initiated a search of their new quarters. Having worked all her life in an Inn very similar to the one they were in, she knew where to look, and for what. The two of them managed to come up with a surprising cache of usable supplies, including several unopened bottles of wine.
"They seem to have left this place in a great hurry," Father Adolph mused. "I wish we had some record of what happened here."
"Maybe we could search in the morning for some kind of records," Sebastian said dubiously. "If there was a chapel or if there were any village elders . . ."
Darkness Falling Page 19