Under a Blood Moon

by Rachel Graves

  But the dream began to change, and Hannah wasn’t praying; she was telling me about werewolves. Her hands, the hands that taught me to bake cookies, curled into claws as her voice got deeper. Suddenly it wasn’t Hannah but an angry werewolf, seven feet tall and snarling beside my bed. I started to scream but woke instead with a gasp.

  It took me a minute to realize where I was. The room came into focus slowly, Jakob’s bed, Jakob’s bedroom pitch black as only a cave can be. I realized my heart was still pounding and the angry German voice was still going. I shook my head to clear out the last remnants of the dream, but the voice remained. Groggy, I tried to place the sounds into context, to make sense of them. The phrases escaped me, but the tone became sharper and sharper. Angry voices, men practically shouting. It occurred to me that something could be wrong, and my calm contemplation ended.

  I pulled on my jeans and grabbed my gun. As a police officer I should have called it a service piece, but in the dark the metal felt like a gun, and I was grateful for it. I quietly opened the door to the bedroom. I shouldn’t have bothered. Whoever was there, Jakob had started to argue with them. I doubted even vampire hearing could detect much over the raised voices.

  The living room spilled in front of me like a pool filled with light instead of water. I gave my eyes a minute to adjust but my senses didn’t need it. The part of me that was a death witch knew the room held two vampires, Jakob and someone I had never met. The glare from the light receded. I could see that they weren’t fighting, just having what Hannah had called “a discussion.” Their language must have seeped into my dream.

  The stranger was shorter than Jakob. I guessed he was 5’8”, maybe less. I had girlfriends who were that tall without their high heels. He had the same pale vampire skin as Jakob, but I suspected it had been pale to start with. It went well with the jet-black hair and eyes. I had never seen eyes so black. Even from across the room, they were bottomless. The only color on his face was an angry red scar that crept up the side of his left cheek. It ended in a spike just beneath his eye. With his face turned, his smooth hair hung down to his chin and almost covered the scar. I realized it was deliberate.

  They were sitting across from each other, Jakob on the couch, the smaller man twitching in the armchair. Someone had made a fire, and it reflected off the metal in Jakob’s modern furniture, turning the room into a strange tableau. The stranger turned, his hair fell away, and I saw that the scar on his cheek was one of many. His shoulder and chest had been mangled. It looked so violent, so painful. I couldn’t stop myself from sucking in my breath. Both men turned at my gasp.

  There is no dignified way to come out of shooting stance and hide your gun when your boyfriend catches you eavesdropping on him. I know. I tried. In the end, I managed to awkwardly tuck the gun into my pocket as I walked into the room. Hopefully they had only heard me, not seen me.

  “I didn’t realize you were awake, my dear. Come meet an old friend.” Jakob held his hand out to me. In a thoroughly possessive gesture, he pulled me to sit next to him on the couch, his arm draped over me. “We’ve known each other for what? Four centuries now.” The other man nodded and Jakob introduced him. “This is Woldemar.”

  “‘Mark’ is fine.” In English, his anger simmered beneath his words. “I’m not surprised you haven’t picked something new.” The scar hampered his smile, it didn’t move with the rest of his face. He had buttoned up his shirt while I walked into the room. The high collar looked out of place but it hid most of his scars. I wasn’t sure if he had done it for me or for him.

  “I like my name,” Jakob laughed. “Besides, it blends in, one of the benefits of being low born.”

  “One of the few benefits,” Mark replied. It was obviously an old joke, both men laughed.

  I could only sit there, feeling like I was in a cage with two tigers. Sure I trusted one of them, but they were still vampires, and a minute ago they had been loud, mad vampires. It made me angry, the idea that this laughing invader had stolen my sleep and reduced me to someone Jakob had to protect. My anger called the part of me that was a death witch, that part didn’t feel at all afraid. I felt the power trickle into my skin, just the beginnings of it, but I knew there was more to call. The men stopped laughing. Mark’s eyes grew wide.

  “Wherever did you find such a talented woman, Jakob?”

  “A nightclub downtown.” His response was light, and it diffused the tension in the room.

  I let the trickle of power go, aware now that it would come back if I needed it.

  “You’ll have to take me, though, I doubt I’ll find anyone like your Mallory. She’s one of a kind.”

  “Not to mention that she found me, not the other way around.” Jakob pulled me close to him and went on to tell the story of how we had met. I liked the way he told it. In my version I was a bumbling witch who didn’t know her own strength. In his, I was a powerful force whose wish for a perfect mate was so strong it drew every vampire in town to compete to see who would have me. The fiction was a bit more than I could bear.

  “Don’t make it so dramatic. There wasn’t any competition. I danced with Rick, he had to go, and then I met you,” I teased Jakob, but Mark answered me.

  “And you never wondered why Rick had to go? Why he left you when you were already in thrall, ripe for him to take?”

  I shifted away from Jakob on the couch so I could look at him fully. “No, I didn’t. Should I have?”

  “Of course not, my dear.” Jakob tried to kiss me. I turned my head so he got my cheek.

  “I see I’ve caused enough strife for the evening,” Mark said standing up.

  “You won’t stay? There’s more than enough room.” Jakob stood beside him.

  “I’ll be back, it’s only two. There’s still time for hunting yet.” The two men hugged. Not that silly half embrace that American men do, a full on hug.

  “I’ll walk you out, then come back and try to save myself.” Jakob looked at me, and I tried to keep my expression blank. I wasn’t particularly angry, more curious, but there wasn’t any reason for the two of them to know that.

  With Jakob gone, I had a minute to try to understand what was happening. Jakob had an old friend, that much made sense, but that they would fight over werewolves didn’t make sense. Of course I was guessing about the werewolves. That part could have been dream. Still, something had tried to eat Mark, starting at the throat.

  It takes a lot to scar a vampire. Of course, the scars could have been from the one who made him. I shivered, remembering the story of how Jakob been made. It wasn’t something I wanted to revisit, unlike the story of what had really happened the night we first met. That story was something I very much wanted to hear.

  Jakob came into the room looking like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It was too much for me, I couldn’t maintain my angry front. I smiled back at him.

  “I’m sorry we woke you, things got louder than I expected. What do you think of Mark?”

  “He seems nice. So about the Rick thing…” I let my voice trail off and looked at him expectantly.

  “You’re sure you want to know? After all, it’s late, and you have to work tomorrow.” His voice was hopeful.

  “I couldn’t sleep now anyway, I’m too curious.”

  “Well, we can’t let that continue.” He took a deep breath. I knew it was for show. He didn’t need to breathe. “That night, you put out a call. It’s difficult to explain, but it’s like something pulled me, pulled all of us toward you, except that most vampires knew better than to follow it. Things that call that way, in the end either they own you or you own them.”

  “Which are we?” I interrupted.

  “Neither,” he laughed. “I’m old enough, and you’re smart enough that it didn’t work out that way. Should I go on?”

  I nodded.

  “So only the stronger or the stupider vampires answered. I came because if something was going to start calling vampires in my city, I needed to know what it was.
Rick came because he was dumb enough to think he could take whatever it was and make it his own.”

  “Which is almost what happened,” I finished. “It never occurred to me that he had me somehow.”

  “You’ve never been in the thrall of a vampire before. You wouldn’t have recognized it. Besides, that’s the point of taking someone, if they can tell you’re doing it, it isn’t working.” It was the closest Jakob had ever come to talking about how vampires feed with me. I’d practically moved in with him and I hadn’t seen him eat.

  “So Rick would have fed off me?” I kept my voice quiet, trying not to give away how much the idea worried me. “Then what would have happened?”

  “It’s an interesting question. He could have bound you to him and kept you, or devoured you.”

  “That would have been murder. It’s illegal for a vampire to feed from someone without permission.”

  Jakob laughed, then kissed me. “Yes, it is. But the thing you don’t understand, the thing most people don’t understand, is that we don’t really care.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t care about laws or rules. If Mark finds someone to dine on tonight, he won’t ask their permission first, like Rick wouldn’t have bothered taking you out of thrall long enough to ask yours. Vampires are more”—he searched for the word—“feral, violent…” He shook his head, not liking any of those words. “Brutish, than people ever imagine. This veneer of civility we wear is very thin, it isn’t even skin deep.”

  “But you’re not like that.”

  “Aren’t I? When I saw Rick with you, I dragged him outside and hurt him enough that he knew better than to try to return. When you were threatened, I reacted with violence and deadly force.”

  “But you didn’t feed off me, you’ve never hurt me.”

  “I said we were violent, my love, not amoral.” He stopped to hold my hand for a second, then looked back at me. “You can trust me. I would never hurt you, but I am one man, and an atypical one at that.”

  “What about Mark? Can I trust him? Do you trust him?” Something about what he said rang true inside me. I wasn’t sure if the world had become more violent in the last five minutes, or if I had become less naive, either way I wanted to know what I was up against.

  “Completely. He would never harm you.” Jakob sounded incredibly sure.

  “He wouldn’t harm me, but what about you? You went after Rick without any trouble.”

  “No, he wouldn’t harm me either.”

  “Just like that? What makes you so sure?” He wasn’t taking this seriously. One minute he was telling me his kind were not to be trusted, beasts that would kill without compunction, now they weren’t. I was worried for him, and I let it show in my voice.

  “I made him.” Jakob’s voice stopped me. He had made Mark into a vampire. Jakob had never mentioned turning anyone. With his hatred of vampires, I’d assumed he hadn’t. And the way he sounded, I knew this was something he didn’t want to talk about.

  I thought about the scars on Mark’s neck and shoulder and went cold. Had Jakob done that? Could he have brutalized someone so terribly and somehow, centuries later, be that person’s friend? Those scars would lead someone to violence, if Jakob was responsible it was more reason to be nervous.

  “That doesn’t keep you safe, not magically,” I thought out loud; trying to remember my training. “There’s no mystical law that a vampire can’t kill the person who turned him.”

  “No. I destroyed the man who made me.” Jakob’s voice took on that odd flat quality that signaled violence. The last time I had heard it I was in a hospital bed, and the next morning the vampire responsible had walked into a sunrise, killing himself rather than face Jakob. It was one example of his base nature, but also an example of him protecting me. When he spoke again his voice was normal. I wondered what thought he had pushed aside. “Would you like to hear the tale of his making?”

  I nodded.

  “Woldemar was a prince, a favored spoiled pet who was fourth in line to the throne. He had all of the benefits of royalty and none of the responsibility.”

  “Hence the crack about your being low born.”

  “Exactly. He owned much of the land but never worked it. He was considered quite handsome. Women threw themselves at him. He was famous for breaking hearts. His arrogance and depravity were legend.”

  “What happened?”

  “One moonlit night they held a royal sledding party. A pair of werewolves came and slaughtered them all. In an instant, his brothers, their wives, all of his family, and his handsome face were destroyed.”

  “That was a werewolf attack? Then he should be…” I let my voice trail off. With scars like that, he should have become a werewolf by the next full moon.

  “They had already eaten by then, he had watched them. When they came to him, it was only to drink in his screams. He was found the next morning. The cold froze his veins shut, saving his life. The bishop declared the attack God’s vengeance for Woldemar’s sinful lifestyle. He was cast out, the hideous sole reminder of a fallen bloodline.” Jakob’s eyes focused far away, and for a moment he was silent. “That was how he came to me, in those precious few days before the next full moon when he was still a man, scarred, angry, and desperate. He begged me for the opportunity for vengeance.”

  “And you agreed.” I finished the story for him, stunned and repulsed at the same time. To give a man the means to avenge the destruction of his family was a good thing, but to make a monster that you knew would keep on killing was a horrible thing. Which did Jakob think he had done? “Did you know he would keep on killing?”

  “I should have.” Jakob ran his hand roughly through his hair. “We found the two who were responsible soon after. They weren’t enough for him. We kept hunting. It was better for him to dine on a wolf than a person, don’t you think?”

  I nodded. I could see his point. I didn’t like to think about it, but we all kill something to stay alive. Well, everyone except the vegans, and there were damn few vegan vampires out there. “I prefer cow.”

  “Or chicken. Woldemar prefers wolf, every time. More specifically, he prefers wolf that dines on people. He’s a zealot. That’s why I trust him.”

  “Huh?”

  “He’s a zealot who hates werewolves who prey on humans. He’ll walk past a troll devouring an entire orphanage of children. He’ll calmly ignore a siren sending a fleet to a watery grave. But this thing, the thing the entire city fears, is what drives him. The situation couldn’t be more perfect.”

  “Except that you spoke German to him.” I made my voice as emotionless as I could.

  “What?” Jakob looked at me completely confused.

  “Until tonight, I was the only person you spoke German to. It was our private language. Now it belongs to him too, and I don’t like it.” God, it was the silliest, stupidest thing in the world. I should be upset that someone who was likely a murderer had stopped by for a visit or that Jakob had made another vampire.

  I had every right to be angry that there were great big parts of his history I didn’t know and that one of them had showed up for a visit. I wasn’t, though. I was upset that he had spoken the language he whispered to me in our most intimate moments to someone else. I felt tears prick at my eyes and turned away.

  “My love,” he said softly, burying his face in my hair, “does it help that I used different words?”

  “A little,” I sniffed.

  “I had no idea you cared so much about such a little thing.”

  “But it’s the only thing I have that’s entirely ours. You’ve had other women, I’ve had other men. We work with other people, we eat with other people, every day I’m forced to share you with the world, but this little thing, that was mine.” I was crying freely over it.

  “I’m so very sorry, my love.” He kissed my neck softly. “What I can do?”

  “Tell me you love me more.”

  He grabbed me, pulling me to face him on the couch. He
kissed me wildly, a happiness playing across his face. “I will always love you more, I swear it.” He kissed me again, crazy kisses on my eyebrows and nose until I started laughing, then kissing him back. “Let me prove how much I love you.”

  Later, when we were both exhausted and sure of our love, he whispered something. I knew enough to catch a word or two, but mostly it was lost. A language changes a lot in six hundred years.

  “What did you say?” I looked up from his chest, my voice sleepy.

  “I love you, and no other will ever come before you.”

  “I love you too. You’re incredibly romantic for a violent thug.”

  “I try.”

  We both laughed.

  “You know there is something else I could give you, something that you would never have to share with anyone,” he said.

  “What’s that?” I asked on the edge of sleep.

  “My name.”

  Something along the lines of a squeak escaped me. Marrying Jakob had never crossed my mind. I loved him, but marriage seemed so big, too big, like more than I could handle. It also seemed right, exactly what we should do. I was torn between wanting to do it and being so scared I wanted to run from the room.

  “That’s what I thought you’d say,” he told me with a laugh. “Sleep, we’ll talk about it some other time when it doesn’t make your heart beat so fast.” I was grateful he understood.

  I was awake for work a few hours later. I showered thinking about weddings and dresses, then firmly pushed the thoughts aside. It was a pretty idea but living my life was more important than daydreaming about how it could be lived. Besides it was strange enough getting up in the morning knowing there were two very old, very powerful vampires sleeping in the house, one of them intent on genocide. Mark would keep killing werewolves until one of them killed him.

  The whole city was living in fear of the slaughter that came each night with the full moon. If he killed a hundred werewolves, they’d hand him a medal. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I arrived in the squad room promptly at eight despite my best efforts to delay. Danny and Ben were already talking over the events of the nights. I ignored them and went for coffee in the break room. I moved the pot out of the way to fill my coffee cup straight from the maker. Sure, everyone else in the department would get slightly weaker coffee, but my night spent with a mysterious werewolf killer trumped any case of the Mondays. Ben offered me a cheerful good morning on his way out, making me think there hadn’t been any dead bodies. Danny confirmed it.