The Dark Arts of Blood

by Freda Warrington

“Of course not. He must not find out, ever.”

  “So what will you tell him? He’s going to take this very hard.”

  “Perhaps I need not tell him anything,” Violette said coolly. “I suggest we approach Fadiya directly, and warn her away. If she won’t go, then we take more desperate measures. Emil will never know why she’s disappeared.”

  “We?”

  Violette dropped her gaze, swept her hair back over her shoulders. “Charlotte, I can’t compel you. Usually I prefer to act alone, but since this vampire is an unknown quantity, there’s safety in numbers. Perhaps we should recruit Karl, Stefan and Niklas as well. I hesitate to suggest Ilona, because she’s inclined to attack first and – well, by then it’s too late for questions. And not Pierre, because he’s an idiot.”

  “And halfway across the world, the last we heard.”

  “True, and I am not setting out to fetch them back.”

  Charlotte groaned. “As you say, Fadiya’s powers are unknown. Once we confront her, she’ll know our identities. The alternative – that you seem to be suggesting as a last resort – is to destroy her. You know that killing a vampire is as horrific as killing a human; worse, if anything, because it’s so much more difficult. And we don’t know her. She may be a monster, but still a thinking, feeling creature, like you and me.”

  “But what else do you suggest? I could seek her out alone, in full goddess mode as Lilith – that might do the trick, but if she’s difficult, I may well tear off her head, and I truly don’t want to go back to those dark days.”

  “Or I could approach her. Make friends.”

  “Friends? Oh bless you, dearest Charlotte. You’re as terrifying as a kitten, but that’s your power. Steel claws hidden inside a suede glove.”

  “I think that’s a compliment,” said Charlotte, glaring at Violette under lowered lids.

  Violette gave an enigmatic smile.

  “It comes down to this,” she said. “If Emil is harmed, I won’t be able to live with myself. I’d rather stop her before she hurts him than take revenge after.”

  “I know,” said Charlotte, “but I still think this requires subtlety. If Emil finds out I’ve approached Fadiya, he’ll know you’ve sent me. But… I wonder if Stefan knows her?”

  “Worth asking.” Violette’s tone was quieter, brooding.

  “Stefan’s toying with the idea of hosting a party and inviting Herr Reiniger and his friends.”

  “Why would he wish to meet the men who half-killed Emil?”

  “Because Karl and I need to know what they’re up to. The invitation could include Fadiya. However, they don’t know Stefan, so what reason would they have to respond?”

  “I don’t know,” said Violette. “For fun? Some people will turn up to every party going and not even care who the host is. Some people are altogether too fond of partying.”

  “Not Herr Reiniger.” Charlotte paused, eyeing the dancer. “But you know what would make him turn up? If the invitation came from you.”

  “What?”

  “Famous people impress him. Let him think you’ve reconsidered his offer to film the ballet.”

  “But I haven’t,” snapped Violette. “I don’t know that I want to see him again. I took a dislike to him. And after all I’ve heard, he certainly will not be filming on my premises.”

  “He’s not the only person in the country who can operate a camera. Karl and I had an idea to try ourselves.”

  “Really?” Violette looked sceptical, then intrigued.

  “Well, why not? Amy said she’ll help. We’ll just need to set up a processing laboratory…”

  “You will what?”

  “May we use one of the backstage storerooms? No windows, concrete floor – it will be ideal. I’m sure you can spare one room.”

  Violette raised her eyebrows. “Since you seem to have it all planned, be my guest.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said with a smile. The idea had been hers, but Karl – ever fascinated by new technology – had shown immediate interest. She didn’t tell Violette, but secretly she hoped that if Karl were behind the camera, he might overcome his hostility towards movies.

  Karl was usually so calm and measured in his reaction to almost everything. She found it amusing, and slightly disturbing, that he had a weak spot after all.

  “But this party…”

  “It’s just an idea, but the point is to lure Herr Reiniger into the open and the only bait he’ll fall for is someone glamorous and influential; namely, you.”

  “I dislike being used as bait,” Violette said icily. “However… I’ll admit Stefan’s idea is a good one. If it works.”

  “He does have a way with people,” Charlotte said wryly.

  “We’ll see,” Violette said wearily. “All I wanted was freedom to run my ballet in peace. After those visions we had, warning that Germany and Austria might not be safe in years to come, I thought I’d found a haven in Switzerland. Instead, this!”

  “It never ends,” said Charlotte. “As Karl says, ‘There is always something else.’”

  * * *

  The night was clear and bright with stars, the mountains standing in timeless silhouette along the horizon. Charlotte breathed fresh air, full of pine and grass scents. Lamps shone in the windows of Stefan’s chalet, inviting.

  She thought of the visions she’d shared with Karl and Violette. Darkness in Raqia was caused by the massed grim thoughts of thousands, millions of humans. Oppression, death, the thunder of marching boots… yet another war, and worse. But the premonitions had been vague. No names, no timescale, nothing clear, because the future was ever-changeable. Perhaps they’d only felt upheavals that were already happening in Italy, Russia or elsewhere. All those dark human energies made Raqia vibrate with thunder. Why does the mob subconscious of humankind so often choose horror over peace?

  She thought of the bone-knife piercing her, and the terrible visions: seeing the white lamia as separate, knowing it was part of her yet being unable to exorcise it. She pictured herself as that pale lamia drifting through the darkness of Raqia.

  “Is Karl here?” Charlotte asked as Stefan opened his front door to her. She asked out of politeness, but she already sensed the soft red glow of Karl’s presence. Karl, although courteous in company, wasn’t the most sociable of creatures. He rarely visited Stefan and Niklas, or anyone, for idle reasons.

  “In the lake room,” Stefan indicated the stairs that led down to the lowest level. “Is something amiss?”

  “I don’t know. He wasn’t at home. I was coming to see you anyway, but I didn’t realise he was here until I was close. Why, what has he said?”

  “Nothing,” said the blond vampire. “Didn’t even knock, just wandered in from the Crystal Ring, and sat down without a word. Not like him, so I decided to leave him alone until he feels like explaining. Have you quarrelled?”

  “No, not at all. I want to ask you…” She decided to leave the matter of Fadiya until she’d spoken to Karl. “It can wait.”

  “Go to him. We’ll be upstairs. Call if you need us.” With a warm, concerned look, he kissed her hand and left.

  Charlotte walked downstairs and entered the lake room. The space danced with subtle lights: stars reflecting off the lake, candles in red glass holders on every surface. Karl was sitting on a small couch, light painting his left side with a scarlet halo.

  “Oh, Charlotte,” he said, turning to her as she approached. He seemed to wake from a trance, took both her hands and pulled her down to sit across his thighs. His hands slid around her and his lips moved in gentle kisses along her neck, her jaw and cheek.

  “Karl?” she murmured, returning the embrace with surprise and pleasure. She’d come out without a coat. His hands felt wonderful but cool through the voile layers of her dress. “You’re cold. Where have you been?”

  “My sweet, beautiful love, I’m so glad to see you.” He said nothing else, only continued caressing and kissing her. Charlotte was all too aware that they should
not be doing this, but they were both starved of each other and the feeling was so divine that she had no will to make him stop. Instead she let herself bask in his attention, transported until she found her mouth resting on his throat. He stiffened as she bit down and took two delicious sips of his blood.

  She stopped, let her fangs retract.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Karl.

  “But I do. If this cold lamia… thing… whatever it is – if it gets inside you, I should never forgive myself.”

  “I really don’t care,” Karl said against her neck. She tried to control her breath, to suppress the pulsing urge that was unravelling her self-control.

  “Well, if we don’t stop, we will soon be naked on this couch with Stefan and Niklas watching.”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand.” Karl spoke with a glimmer of humour. “Stefan would sell tickets.”

  “You’re wicked,” she said, half-sobbing. “I love you. But you’re cold, freezing. You need blood, not me taking yours.”

  “I’m warmer now,” he said. “And you may take everything from me that you need, always.” He held her close against him and she rested there, her arms beneath his jacket, enfolding his lean body. She could remain like this forever, with Karl’s cheek resting on her hair and his arms around her.

  But he had questions to answer.

  “Dearest, are you all right?” she asked. “Were you looking for me? I was away longer than I meant to be…”

  “For Violette. Yes, she told me.”

  “Why are you sitting here in the dark, instead of coming home? It’s not like you to be angry with me. Not for more than two minutes, anyway.”

  “Of course I’m not angry with you, liebling.” He exhaled, his breath flowing down her neck and shoulder. “You’re free to come and go as you please, but while you were away… I wanted to be on my own to think for a while, and Stefan’s very tolerant.”

  “He doesn’t pester you with questions, unlike me?” Charlotte half-smiled, touching her forehead to his.

  “Well… I had nothing to say to anyone, and I’ve done precious little thinking, either. But now you’re here – I’ve never been so glad to see your beloved face in my life.”

  “That’s heart-warming, Karl, but you’re scaring the life out of me. What’s happened? You’re behaving as if you’ve done something dreadful.”

  She spoke lightly, but his answer startled her.

  “Yes, I have. That’s nothing new, but sometimes… our misdeeds catch up with us. Can we prey on human life indefinitely and never face the consequences?”

  She slid off his knee and reclined sideways on the couch, her stockinged legs resting over his thighs. “Tell me.”

  “I paid a visit to Godric Reiniger. Strange man. Dangerous, perhaps. I intended to warn him that he had better not let his political gang ever attack Emil again. You know I rarely have difficulty in putting the fear of God into any human…”

  “Only too well,” she said.

  “Reiniger showed no fear. He denied responsibility for his friends’ violence, and he barely apologised. As good as suggested that Emil brought the trouble on himself. And he’s very passionate about his ambition to save Switzerland by taking it over. He believes he can influence the entire populace through his films. However, he is quite bitter that not everyone takes him seriously.”

  “Deluded?” said Charlotte.

  “Not necessarily. People may laugh at him now, but the most unlikely candidates can seize power. And something is going on in that house. His aura, his blood, everything smelled wrong… like a foundry, all fire and molten metal. I can’t explain, but we’d be unwise to underestimate him. He recognised me as a vampire, but it’s more than that. Apparently we’ve met before. He harbours a deep, personal grudge against me.”

  “Why?”

  “He claims I killed his father.”

  Silence. After a few moments, Charlotte whispered, “Did you?”

  Karl went quiet, his fingertips playing on her ankles. “So it seems. He knows what I am, he even knew my full name. He had a sketchbook of drawings he’d made of me – some with his own blood – from when he was ten years old. Then he took me into his private cinema and sat me there to watch a film.”

  Charlotte studied Karl’s face as he spoke. He was no lover of movies, but now his expression was frozen.

  “It was a poor effort, very basic,” he went on. “One of his earliest works, he said. A dark room, a bearded man kissing his young son goodnight, sending him off to bed with a stuffed toy in his arms. Then an intruder entering the father’s study, pouncing on him. A struggle. The stranger sinking fangs into the man’s neck – Reiniger had spliced in close-ups, so effective that they made me jump – and the little boy standing in the doorway, watching, with the toy trailing from his hand. The father fell dead on the study floor. The intruder stared at the child and vanished through a window. The little boy stood there…” Karl stopped, not breathing at all for a minute. Then he inhaled slowly. “The whole movie lasted less than ten minutes. No story, no context. Just an episode – a ten-year-old boy watching a vampire kill his father. Yet it was surprisingly powerful. Horrifying. Something about the grainy grey flicker is like the worst of nightmares…”

  “Karl?” Charlotte sat up, moved close to him and took his hand. “You’re ice cold. It was only a film. It can’t have been real, can it?”

  “Yes and no. Reiniger said he couldn’t get that night out of his head, so he recreated the scene with actors and filmed it.”

  “So he claims this really happened, and the vampire in the scene was you?”

  “Exactly so.” He squeezed her hand, as if relieved that he’d confessed.

  “But that’s ridiculous… isn’t it?”

  “I wish it were. I try not to kill, but you know full well that I have. You’ve even witnessed it, although I wish you hadn’t, with all my heart. Sometimes even slight blood loss can cause death, if the trauma brings on a heart attack… And the truth is, when I saw the film, I remembered. One small event among several thousand nights of hunting… but Godric had made the movie inside the actual house – it must have been his father’s house in the town – and I recognised the place. I remembered. I took an adult victim who died in my hands… and when I looked up, there was a child in the doorway, staring.”

  “When did this happen?” Charlotte held both his hands, as if trying to keep a dying human conscious. Trying to keep him with her.

  “Ah… let me think. Reiniger is about forty, so it would be in the late eighteen-nineties. That’s as I remember. The time fits. He’d even got the style of clothing correct.”

  “So he lost his father at the age of ten?” said Charlotte. “And he remembered your face. Even tracked you down to the extent that he discovered your name? That can’t have been easy.”

  “Not impossible. Perhaps I was too careless in neglecting to create false identities.”

  “He filled a book with drawings, and made a film,” she said. “That sounds a touch obsessive.”

  Karl sat forward, pushed one hand through his hair. His face lost its faraway look and he grimaced. “Not really. I would say it was natural. Godric waited thirty years to come face to face with his father’s murderer.”

  “Does he want revenge?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know what he wants.”

  “Did he attack you?”

  “No. And before you ask, I left him alive. Perhaps that was a mistake, but in cold blood, I couldn’t harm him. He has… he claims to have a number of the Istilqa knives, but it was the force of his personality that held me, more than any weapon. I felt paralysed. I cannot express how horrific it was to see my own actions played out on a screen.”

  He rose and went to the window, stared out at the lake. Charlotte followed and stood beside him. She said, “I can only imagine. Karl, you’re in shock. I won’t try to soothe you out of it.”r />
  “Thank you.”

  “But what happened when the movie was over?”

  “Nothing. I left. Before that, I felt pinned there – forced to stay and see what he was so desperate to show me. He’s a peculiarly compelling man. In effect he was warning me, ‘I know exactly who you are, and what you did will never be forgotten. Everything you do, the reverberations go on forever.’ What could I do or say in response? Nothing. I am not sorry and I do not feel guilty. Sad, but not guilty.”

  She put her hand through his arm. “It’s unusual for our victims to come after us, but it must happen occasionally.”

  “Perhaps one day they will all catch up with us.”

  Karl opened a door and stepped out on to the veranda. Charlotte went with him. The night air blowing across the lake was very cold now. Nothing to a vampire, but she felt a brief shiver. Karl put his arm around her. After a while she said, “I have a confession too.”

  “Dr Ochsner?”

  “How did you know?” She was startled that he’d guessed, but not astonished.

  “Not difficult. I know you were furious about the way he treated Amy.”

  “Other patients, too. Practically torturing them to punish them for their normal human biology, like some sadistic inquisitor – and that’s part of Reiniger’s belief system, isn’t it? He wants to enforce purity and control over the population, starting with his own friends and family? I know I said I hate killing, but – oh Karl, if anyone deserved it, Ochsner did. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but… go on, lecture me if you must.”

  “No lecture. I had a feeling you’d hunt him down. And after what I’ve done in the past, I’m in no position to criticise your actions, liebling.”

  “The good and the evil, Karl: I accepted it all when I came with you.”

  “And with such grace.”

  He went quiet. She’d rarely seen Karl so disturbed. Along with a glacial sense of dread, she felt pure hatred for the man who had managed to crawl under his skin like this.

  She had to break the silence.

  “Is Godric aware that he already has a vampire working for him?”

  At that, Karl’s gaze met hers, now sharply focused. “What do you mean?”