Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series

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Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series Page 64

by Gabriel Beyers


  The whip whistled through the air, and there was a dull, wet slap as the teeth, once again, embedded in Thad’s newly healed back. A spray of blood doused the Hunter’s face, and he caught a fair amount of it in his open mouth. This time around, the agony was a hundred times worse. Sebastian’s blood hadn’t just healed and revived him. It had given him the ability to feel pain in a way no normal mortal can know.

  Marjek, once again, whipped Thad to the point of death, then forced the dwarf to heal him. Then he beat Thad a third time, though, thankfully he seemed to have lost the zeal for it. On Marjek’s order, the Hunter released Thad, who crumpled to the floor on his side. Marjek returned the bloody whip to its place, then left the room without another word.

  “It’s time to give up mad pursuits,” Heidi said to Thad. “The blood witch’s mother is in our care. Leave it at that.” She motioned to the Hunter. “Let’s go.” The Hunter obeyed, snatching Beth by the arm and sweeping her from the room. Heidi stepped just over the threshold, then turned back to Sebastian. “Make sure he doesn’t die.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the dwarf said, bowing low.

  Heidi shot him a stern glare, as though she weren’t sure if he was mocking her or not, then followed after Beth and the Hunter.

  Sebastian went to Thad, offering his tiny, stubby hand. Thad rolled to his knees and tried to push away the dwarf’s offer for help, yet his hand remained implacable. It was disconcerting just how strong the little vampire was compared to himself. The dwarf held his hand out a moment longer, then shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”

  Thad used the table to climb to his feet. Every movement was a horror. Had the flesh of his back slid from its place and crumpled to the floor like a discarded garment, he wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Your injuries are a bit out of my reach,” Sebastian said in that dry air of boredom that was his default tone. “If you want me to heal your back, I’m afraid you’ll need to get back on the floor.”

  “You’re the reason this happened to me,” Thad said, forcing the words out between rasping wheezes. “I’d sooner die than have your blood on me again.”

  The dwarf raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Those stripes will scar, and there goes your chance of being turned.”

  “Jerusa is scarred.”

  “Ah, yes, but she was already a vampire. And she does have a very unique talent, though, if her spectral friends don’t start helping her out, it won’t do her any good.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Never mind,” the dwarf said, waving away the words. “Are you certain you don’t want me to heal you?”

  “I’m positive. I’m done with you blood suckers. If I could, I’d drag each of you out into the sun and watch you turn into a pile of goop.”

  The dwarf blew out a sigh of relief. “Wonderful. After healing you, twice, I’ve barely enough blood left to keep me from going savage.” He caught the appalled look on Thad’s face, smiled, and said, “I was only offering to be polite. Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “My chambers,” he said, as if this should be obvious. “I may not have enough blood to heal you, but I will at least bandage you.”

  “Why would you do something so kind?”

  “Oh, don’t mistake this for kindness,” Sebastian said. “Heidi ordered me to keep you alive. I don’t want you to get an infection. And you don’t want to walk around with bleeding wounds. Not all those with fangs beneath this roof have the will to resist such a tantalizing treat as yourself, even if it does mean the Council would have them thrown to the savages in the catacombs.”

  “I’d rather die.”

  “Oh, stop being so melodramatic,” the dwarf said. “Come on. We have important matters to discuss.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The world was hidden in a fog of pain and nausea, but somehow, Thad made it to Sebastian’s room in the Watchtower wing of the great house. The dwarf made him lie face down on a low but comfortable cot that was already set up in his room. Thad tried to resist. Wanted to ask why the cot had been waiting on them. But the fight had literally been beaten out of him.

  A sharp, searing blanket of fire fell over his back. Thad yelled in pain, turning his furious face toward the dwarf.

  “I told you, I don’t want your blood.”

  The dwarf held up an ancient looking bottle and a white towel stained red, but not with blood. “Merely antiseptic, my boy.”

  Thad returned his weary head to the soft cushion and bore the rest of the pain in silence. When the fire on his back had dwindled to a smolder, the dwarf began to dress the wounds. He was fast, yet gentle. “Why did you send me to that hole just to turn me in?”

  Sebastian continued deftly placing gauze pads on lacerations, and for a moment, Thad didn’t think he would answer. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “I had no choice.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Believe me, child. I had no choice. You’ll soon find your choices dwindling as well.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Never mind.”

  Thad sighed. “You’re annoying, y’know that?”

  “I’ve been told that more than a few times over the centuries.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t keep so many secrets, you’d be a little more tolerable.”

  The dwarf chuckled. “In my world, secrets are as necessary as blood.”

  “Well, what can you tell me?”

  “Ask me something.”

  Thad’s mind boiled over with questions. “What’s going on with Jerusa and the others? Have they found Suhail yet?”

  “No. They’re still trying to correct a little snag they ran into awhile back.”

  Thad pushed up on his elbows so that he could see the dwarf’s face. “What kind of snag?”

  Sebastian rolled his mismatched eyes. “I suppose I can tell you, but you must keep it to yourself.” Thad nodded that he would. “That pesky human cult, the Light Bearers, used those bastard creations of theirs to kidnap Shufah.”

  “What?” Thad tried to get up, but it felt as if he were being whipped all over again.

  “Calm down.” Sebastian eased him back to the cot. “She’s still alive. I felt her feed not three days ago, though, I admit, it had been a long time since I sensed her. So you see, Jerusa is torn about which direction to go. Rescue her friend, or hunt her enemy. She’s lost her way, and that spirit guide of hers isn’t doing much to set her right. Not that I blame the spunky little spirit. Either path is perilous. Now it is my turn to ask you something.”

  “I thought you were the most powerful augur of the Watchtower. Don’t you know everything?”

  Sebastian gave another short chuckle. “If only I did. I see much, and suspect even more, but no being knows the ends of all paths.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me of the vampire that created the blood witch.”

  “Don’t call her that!”

  The dwarf’s mouth tightened in boredom. “Who is the creature that gave his blood to Jerusa? The one that killed Kole.” Thad stumbled over his words, looking for an answer. The dwarf patted him on the cheek. “I’m the most powerful augur in the Watchtower. Do you think I’d really believe that a pair of fledglings, a vampire with limited pyro-kinesis, and a human could take on a savage like Kole, all with Suhail conspiring against you? Even with Shufah’s help, that’s a bit of a stretch. He must be an exceptional vampire. Who is he?”

  A tremor of warning took hold of Thad’s heart, and he hoped that the tiny augur couldn’t read his mind. Shufah had been very clear that they should not, under any circumstance, reveal to the Stewards that Jerusa had been created by a Divine Vampire.

  “I don’t know much about him,” Thad said, careful of every word. “He went by the name Silvanus, but that wasn’t his real name. That’s just what Jerusa and Foster called him.” The thought of poor Foster, giving his life to save them from Kole that night, brought a lump
to his throat. “He couldn’t remember who he was. He wasn’t around very much. Kole’s blood—” Thad caught himself.

  “Go on.” The dwarf’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

  “He didn’t care much for savages. That’s all. I only saw him a few times. Never for very long.”

  Sebastian nodded, but didn’t press any further. Whether he saw through Thad’s lies was anyone’s guess.

  “I have another question for you,” Thad said, hoping to break the penetrating stare of the augur. Sebastian motioned for him to go on. “If you know where Shufah is, or Suhail, for that matter, why don’t you tell Jerusa where to go? You can communicate with the other augurs, right? Like telepathy, or something.”

  “Yes, we of the Watchtower are mentally linked to the augurs servicing the Hunter squads, but I’m afraid that I’m using a great deal of my power to keep the other augurs blind to certain truths.”

  “Like what?”

  “That Shufah has been taken. If Marjek knew, he would go mad and have Jerusa destroyed. She’s only alive because of Shufah. Of course, Heidi would love nothing more than to be rid of both Jerusa and Shufah. She has been trying to sway the Council to her side for some time. But Marjek is very powerful, and Heidi knows she must tread lightly.”

  “What else are you hiding from them?”

  “I may be sending them false images of Jerusa feeding. If the High Council learns of her forced fast, she’s as good as dead. Nothing terrifies them as much as an underfed vampire.”

  “Why do they care?”

  “It’s hard to say. The Stewards don’t include me in their plans. I’m a slave, same as you.”

  “Does Jerusa have any chance of surviving?”

  A look of compassion swept over the dwarf’s face, just briefly. “I’m afraid not. Even if she survives Suhail and the savages, and the Stewards don’t have her put to death for fasting, without fresh blood, she will soon slip into the Stone Cloak.”

  Thad turned away. “I thought vampires were supposed to be immortal.”

  “No, not immortal. We are merely perpetual creatures, just as capable of dying as anything else on this rock. Sad to say, but immortality is just an illusion. Most of us that are gifted perpetual life rarely find anything in it worth living for.”

  “How did you become a vampire,” Thad asked. “I understand why the Stewards keep you around, despite…”

  “Despite my hideous appearance?”

  “I didn’t say that, but yeah. Who turned you?”

  The dwarf laughed, but there was little humor in it. “Is it so hard to believe that another vampire could find me worthy of the blood?”

  Thad didn’t answer.

  “If you must know,” Sebastian continued. “I made myself.”

  “What?” Thad said in disbelief. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine, but don’t try to feed me another lie.”

  Sebastian placed his tiny hand on Thad’s forehead and he gasped as the brightness of the room fled away.

  Thad found himself in a different room, though still in the great house. The room was dark, lit by a tiny fire flickering in the hearth. It was night outside and the winds howled as they conspired to bury the great house in snow. Thad knew, without being told, that he was no longer seeing the world through his own eyes but through Sebastian’s. Except this Sebastian was not yet a vampire.

  Screams echoed up and down the stone corridors, making it impossible to discern their origins. The smell of smoke, tainted with the morbid aroma of burning flesh, permeated everything. People, some his kin, others servant of the house, were running to and fro in mad terror.

  One of the servants slammed into him, sending the tiny man tumbling off his stunted legs. The servant did not stop to help him up, and Sebastian distantly thought about the joy he’d have watching the man beaten. He pulled himself up and caught a young maid by her skirt as she passed by. He asked her what was happening. The young girl made some incoherent babble about demons, then wrenched her arm away, and sprinted off into the darkness.

  Sebastian laughed at the absurdity of it all. Until he saw a dark figure, a black silhouette in the form of a man, crawl across the window, like a spider seeking its prey. He was on the third floor of the house, and no natural creature moved like that.

  The dwarf fled from room to room, but carnage was everywhere. The bodies of his servants were heaped about, burnt to charred cinders. In one room, he stumbled upon a group of demons feeding upon the blood of his sisters. And though his siblings had never been kind to their deformed brother, he, nonetheless, felt a stab of pity for them. The demons seemed enraptured by their feast of blood, and paid no notice of the tiny man.

  Sebastian moved on, keeping to the shadows, though he realized the darkness could not conceal him. His heart raged within his chest, his muscles burned in exhaustion. Still, he pressed on toward one of the secret doors. The dwarf slipped into a tiny opening hidden in a cold fireplace, and pulled the stone door shut just as one of the demons entered the room. He watched through a spy hole as it sniffed the air like a ravening wolf. It stepped into an ivory beam of moonlight spilling through a broken window. This was not a demon with hoofed feet and bat wings, like in the many books he had read. This creature was a beautiful woman with blonde hair reaching near to the floor. Her pale, perfect face was painted red with blood. Her wide eyes searched the darkness.

  The vampire that Thad recognized as Heidi wiped the blood from her mouth with the front of her dress. Marjek entered the room behind her, followed by the other three Council members, Othella, Cot, and Mathias. The hatred of the dwarf, both the human of long ago and the vampire now, burned hot in Thad’s mind.

  Thad watched as time uncoiled before his eyes. Months of hiding behind the walls, of eating rats and bugs. Of endless nights in the blinding darkness and of days scavenging while evading the infected humans tending to the will of their blood-drinking masters.

  The dwarf learned many things in the secret places of the great house, the most important being how a mortal man can feast on the blood of the undead, and become the living dead himself. A plan formed in the dwarf’s mind, and from that day on, he spent his time scavenging the armory and building his trap.

  Thad found himself standing in one of the cold, dark caverns beneath the great house. The walls, wet from ground water, glistened in the torchlight. The dwarf had patiently waited for the day that the High Council, as he came to know them, and many of the other Stewards, left the Ice Sanctuary to tend to matters around the world. A handful of vampires remained to keep the house prepared for their eventual return.

  The dwarf had spent much time down in these caverns. Not even the vampires knew of their existence. It pained him to reveal one of the house’s secrets, but it was necessary for his plan to unfold here. He picked at the clotting blood on the palm of his hand, wondering if he had smeared enough of his blood along the path to lure one of the vampires here. There was no measure of time in the caverns. The only thing that moved was the flicker of the torches, and the incessant dripping of the water through the walls.

  The dwarf stood in a constant state of nervous agitation, bordering on pure panic. He had to be quick, ruthless. The blood drinkers were inexplicably fast. If he misjudged them, he would die. Just when he had begun to give up hope, a voice echoed from wall to wall, floor to ceiling.

  “Why, what a clever little mouse you are, escaping our attention for so very long.” A short, ruddy vampire, with a stout frame, stepped into the light. He pointed to the cut on the dwarf’s hand. “But in the end, the blood will always betray you.”

  Sebastian’s heart thrummed in his chest, his flesh broke out in a cold sweat. His legs went weak, and he nearly stumbled backward. He firmed his stance and squared his shoulders. “Who speaks to me?” he said, feigning blindness. “My eyes are dim and I can hardly see you. Step into the light that I might know you.”

  The vampire moved further into the torchlight, his feet barely disturbing the gravel covering the ca
vern floor. Sebastian stepped back a single pace, pretending to be terrified by what he saw. The switch hidden beneath the gravel released under his weight, and a smile flashed unbidden to his face.

  “Tell me,” the vampire said. “Why do you smile?”

  “You are an astounding creature,” the dwarf replied. “Eternally young, yet I sense that you are old.”

  “I have lived many mortal lifetimes.”

  “Are you powerful?”

  “You will soon find out.”

  “What is your name?”

  The vampire smiled, revealing his fangs. “You may call me Death.”

  He stepped forward, pulling his foot from the second hidden switch, and a loud crack filled the room as the bolder, hidden in the darkness above, broke loose from its perch. The whir of spinning pulleys and rattle of chains thundered all about them. Thankfully, the vampire didn’t lunge for him with preternatural speed, but instead, stood his ground long enough to allow the net, forged of chains, to explode up from beneath him. The boulder hit the ground with a crash, and rolled over, causing the dwarf to jump out of the way. The weight of the rock carried the chain net upward, pinning the vampire to the ceiling.

  The vampire hit the ceiling with such force that his bones broke with an audible crunch. But they didn’t stay broken for long. He twisted and writhed, but could not free himself from the net. He arched his back against the ceiling and pushed against the chains. The bolder rocked in place, but refused to give him enough slack to escape. Given enough time, the vampire would find a way out of the trap, but Sebastian didn’t intend on waiting another second.

  He fled the firelight as fast as his stunted legs would carry him, pressing into the darkness beyond. He stumbled, falling to his knees, and groped along the floor until he found the contraption. He took hold of the towrope and pulled with all his might. Though he had assembled the contraption upon a wheeled cart, it was nearly too heavy for his small frame to overcome. He was drenched in sweat and spent of energy, but he managed to position the contraption directly beneath the vampire.

 

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