Legacy in Blood

by Masha Dark

  “Who from pin to breastpin, pa-bam,” Vasilisa gamely began to sing along with the heroine.

  She never once wondered how much detritus the human memory could store. For if one is a transformed vampire almost eight centuries from one’s birth, then one remembers both the name of one’s first victim and the words of a silly film with equal accuracy.

  By the end of the song her mood had somewhat improved. Vasilisa showered and wandered down to the first floor. She found Lucinda in the kitchen: she was carving up a pink filet of smoked salmon that rested on china plate, stabbing the pieces with her fork and sending them into her mouth. Then she monotonously and carefully chewed, and, finally, she swallowed.

  Vasilisa’s mood instantly returned to below freezing.

  “How many years have you put food on a plate, sat at a table and pretended you were human? Tell me, aren’t you bored?”

  “There are many things you don’t understand, Vasilisa,” Lucinda replied calmly, catching the next slice of fish with her fork.

  “I’m seven hundred fifty-four years old,” Vasilisa practically shouted. “According to you, I’m not grown up enough to understand why you need to play at being a human when you are a vampire?”

  “Unfortunately,” began Lucinda dispassionately, “I didn’t get to hang myself the way mama did. I did not have enough strength to follow papa’s lead either. So I get by how I can – I try not to kill, not to drink directly from the vein, and I try to make use of human food. I deceive myself, if you will. That is my right. And don’t worry, please – if we fall on hard times I will turn to potatoes and cucumbers.”

  “You want to be clean as a new button, don’t you,” spat Vasilisa, leaning towards her sister. “Pure and white, right? But in what way are you better than me and Nickolaus? Or Filip? We’re the ones who feed you; we murder for you. And you drink human blood just the same as we do but you pour it into a beautiful little bottle.”

  Lucinda jumped up off her chair and bared her fangs with a snarl.

  Are you in a rage because she put you in your place? In telepathic speech the caustic tone could be felt even more palpably. I guess you were not to her taste. Perhaps she likes redheads?

  And what would you know about that? Vasilisa laughed in answer. You’ve never even had anyone! Old maid! If it weren’t for Nicholaus and me looking out for you, you’d have been dead from abstinence by the age of forty!

  Vasilisa was prepared to receive the answering blow, but Lucinda, instead of lashing out at her sister, suddenly sat back down at the table, covered her face with her palms and burst into bitter tears. In the next moment Vasilisa felt like she was the most repulsive viper in the entire world.

  “My God, forgive me, please,” she said aloud. “Forgive me, Lucinda.”

  Are you afraid that I’ll tell Nicholaus about the drugs? Lucinda took her hands away from her tear-stained face. I keep trying to be your nanny. I forget that you grew up a long time ago.

  “Yes indeed,” grumbled Vasilisa. “But the coke isn’t important. I’m really sorry that I hurt you. I really am a spoiled bitch,” Vasilisa faltered but then continued after a second, “But I love you very much.”

  Lucinda had wiped away her tears just as Nicholaus appeared in the kitchen.

  “What’s all the noise about?” he asked sullenly. “Fighting again early in the morning?”

  “For starters, hi,” said Vasilisa. “And by the way it’s eleven o’clock already.”

  “How you both aggravate me,” huffed Nicholaus.

  “You’re in a bad mood.” Vasilisa was once again gaining steam. “Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed? Yes, dear brother, it’s been quite some time since a beautiful woman blew you off. Well, don’t worry about it: there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Give me peace in my own home!” Nicholaus roared.

  “Both of you shut up!” Lucinda could not contain herself. “That’s it, I can’t do this anymore. Don’t you see that we just can’t live together?”

  Both Nicholaus and Vasilisa opened their mouths to respond to their sister, but at that moment a buzzer rang out. The video surveillance monitor showed Filip leaning out of the window of his car.

  “Open the gates for him,” said Nicholaus wearily.

  At that very moment inside an unmarked van parked not far from walls that boasted an ancient coat of arms, a gaunt man known in CRUSS by the name Bumblebee turned to Marisa, who was dressed in camouflage, “We’ve got them covered here at the observation post. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  “Let’s start the operation,” Marisa commanded in a low voice.

  “They have dogs,” said Arvid, who was sitting next to her.

  “Two altogether,” clarified Bumblebee, peering at the screen of his laptop. “Dobermans.”

  Arvid mechanically checked the communication equipment that they had only just received on Papa’s orders.

  “It’s all new,” said Bumblebee without looking at him. “Far better than the old stuff.”

  “Ready here,” came the voice of one of the soldiers.

  “Keep us in the loop,” Marisa barked, opening the door of the van.

  “Most assuredly,” replied Bumblebee and again stuck his nose back into his equipment.

  “First wave, go,” ordered Arvid.

  Filip seated himself snugly on the broad windowsill. “You know, I’ve always wanted to ask you about all this,” he asked Lucinda. “Why do you use plates?”

  Second wave, go…

  All four heard this fragment of thought.

  “The monitor,” said Nicholaus, blanching.

  Vasilisa turned her head towards the surveillance system and went cold, realizing what was happening.

  “It’s disabled,” she said hoarsely.

  “Holy saints, it’s the cops!” exclaimed Filip. “It’s a raid! That’s it, we’re done for!” And he suddenly began to snivel, like a small child.

  BASTARD! Nicholaus’s voice thundered thought the minds of all present. You brought them here – they followed you!

  In the blink of an eye he grabbed Filiup by the arm and dragged him from the windowsill.

  “No, it wasn’t me!” screamed Filip, forgetting about telepathy. “I swear to you, it wasn’t me!”

  BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!

  The men quailed in the face of the forceful mental flood that Lucinda pushed into their minds. Vasilisa gaped at her sister in amazement and involuntary admiration. In all these years she had never once seen Lucinda like this – she was menacing and beautiful, as previously no one had ever imagined her to be.

  This is no time for arguments, continued Lucinda. Nicholaus, go upstairs and get your rifle.

  It’s a Shmaiser, an automatic, Nicholaus corrected her.

  Who the fuck cares – I could never tell the difference! Upstairs, now! Lucinda commanded viciously. And you, Filip…quickly, go open the safe and get the revolver.

  “Enough of hiding in the corners like rats,” she added aloud. “If we’re going to die, let’s do it well! Let’s give these Chaldeans a truly worthy reception; let them rue the day they fucked with us.”

  From outside could be heard the dying yelp of one of the dogs. Filip and Nicholaus jumped to fulfill Lucinda’s commands.

  “What are we going to do, Lucinda?” asked Vasilisa, barely able to move lips that were numb from terror.

  Instead of replying, her sister walked over to the kitchen cabinets that were made of solid oak. With a confident motion she flung open one of the doors, which outwardly resembled the door of a pantry. Beyond it there was yet another door, an iron one, which looked like a safe with a combination lock and lever. Without pausing for a second, Lucinda entered a complicated combination. The door opened and a secret passage revealed itself.

  “Quickly,” said Lucinda in a tone that brooked no contradiction.

  “No.” Vasilisa’s head was spinning. “No, I can’t. What about all of you? You, Nicholaus…even Filip
.”

  Lucinda grabbed Vasilisa by the arm and pulled her close.

  “We’ve outlived ourselves,” she said. “Go quickly. Just be careful, they could be everywhere.”

  “But how can I, Lucinda?” asked Vasilisa, nearly crying.

  Lucinda suddenly gave her a resounding slap.

  I said go now!

  Then she immediately hugged Vasilisa fiercely.

  “Whatever happens, remember that I love you, my angel.”

  Vasilisa gave way and began to cry.

  I’m ready, said Filip from the drawing room.

  As am I, Nicholaus added. I’m coming down.

  So, let’s take our positions. They’ll be sorry now, Lucinda replied with joyful malice.

  Find her. Lucinda again addressed Vasilisa, who had already taken a step into the bosom of the secret passageway. She will help you. Remember the address.

  Marisa was beside herself from rage. Graham, one of the soldiers, had hesitated with the second dog and in the end the entire team lost time. In addition, they had now probably lost the element of surprise– everything within the house had become painfully, suspiciously quiet.

  “Butthead,” she spat at Graham in a low voice.

  They got past the front door quickly and without losses. The method they’d developed on hundreds of similar lairs worked without fail. The vampires met them with a feeble volley from an antiquated revolver. An individual who looked like a hawker at a market was shooting at the soldiers. Hiding behind a leather sofa, he almost instantly used up all his bullets, the majority of which got lodged into the luxurious furnishings of the house.

  Within seconds a soldier in body armor tore the vampire’s head apart with one of CRUSS’s trademark explosive shells.

  “On the floor, you motherfuckers!” screamed Arvid, rushing into the house behind the soldier who had shot the first vampire. “You’re surrounded! Resistance is futile!”

  Marisa came in with him and after a moment of looking around, said, “It’s clear. I’m going to the kitchen.”

  “Graham, go with her,” commanded Arvid as he headed towards the stairs.

  From somewhere above him dropped another vampire – a blonde woman with savage, fiery eyes. A second later Arvid was lying on the floor under the weight of the vampire. Growling softly, she reached towards his throat, but Arvid managed to punch her in the nose with his fist. The woman keeled over backwards, but she quickly righted herself with animalistic grace and clawed at Arvid’s face with all five fingers. Arvid bellowed with pain. Then a shot rang out – the soldier, who had come to help him, put down the vampire with one shot to the back.

  “Thanks,” said Arvid, and then he barely managed to duck as the man was pierced by automatic fire and fell down dead right in front of him.

  “Lucinda!” A howl, full of pain, rang out over Arvid’s head. “You’ll get yours, you sneaky bastards!”

  An erratic volley mowed down all the antiques that had been spared until that moment. Splinters and shards flew in a heavy hail in all directions.

  Arvid saw the third vampire: he was crouching at the very top of the circular staircase, holding an automatic awkwardly in his hands. Even though he was almost entirely exposed up there – the ideal target – the vampire could also lay waste to anyone who stood below.

  “The stairs! Above us!” cried Arvid, alerting the others, and he blindly shot in the direction of the crouching vampire who had no time to react – metal stakes tore through his neck, practically severing it. The vampire’s body slithered down the stairs with a heavy rumble.

  Arvid hastened to recover his feet. Too late he saw the twisted grimace on the face of the female vampire. Fully alive, she lunged at Arvid with tripled strength, flipped him over onto the floor and squeezed him tightly, encompassing his torso in the ring of her own arms. The vampire opened her filthy maw wide, preparing to thrust her long, sharp fangs right into Arvid’s neck. She let out a croaking sound that resembled a laugh. Arvid closed his eyes, preparing to die. But then a warm, sticky liquid drenched him from head to toe.

  “Any problems?” Marisa asked coolly, wiping off the blade, which protruded from her sleeve like an extension of her arm, right on the decapitated corpse. The young woman raised her arm dramatically and the blade retracted into her sleeve with a sonorous ring. Graham watched her movements in awe.

  Arvid pushed the body of the vampiress away from him with loathing. It slumped onto the floor like a rotting sack; blood flowed over the white floor tiles in a dark, wine-red pool.

  “Thanks,” bleated Arvid.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “This is not good,” she added dully, gazing at the murdered soldier.

  “He saved me,” Arvid lowered his head. “His name was…”

  He hesitated.

  “In truth, we called him Whitey. His name was Andre White. He was a trainee,” Arvid added.

  Marisa kept her peace, being unable to say anything in reply. The soldiers who had been infiltrating the house from the other side appeared.

  “We’re all clear over there,” said one of them.

  “The same can’t be said of us,” grumbled Arvid, finally getting to his feet.

  “We noticed,” said another lad. “Go with God, Andre.”

  One by one the soldiers all pulled up their masks in a sign of mourning and respect for their fallen comrade.

  “There were more of these bitches,” Marisa suddenly declared.

  “How do you know?” wondered Arvid.

  “This house is large,” she explained. “My gut tells me it wasn’t just these three who lived here.”

  “Then where, in your opinion, are the rest?” Arvid continued his line of questioning.

  “For starters – how many are there?” amended Graham.

  “Indeed,” agreed Arvid. “How many?”

  “Well, we’ll find that out right now,” said Marisa as she walked over to a bookcase.

  “Bumblebee,” she said into her comm. “Check how our sentries are doing out there.”

  “Artur’s in place,” Bumblebee answered nimbly.

  Everyone present could hear his voice.

  Marisa stooped down and fished out a glitzy, gilt photo album from under a mass of splinters and shards.

  “So,” said Marisa, carefully examining her find. “The blonde fishwife – that’s that one.”

  She nodded towards the decapitated body.

  “She’s not a blonde anymore,” jested one of the soldiers.

  “Shurak is in place,” Bumblebee said over their headsets.

  “Well, and guy with the mile-long nose,” Marisa continued. “That’s obviously the one on the stairs.”

  Marisa walked over to the couch to the corpse of the first vampire.

  “Tanaka is in place,” Bumblebee announced.

  “He doesn’t have a face,” stated Marisa, turning the corpse over with the toe of her boot. “But judging by appearances, this is that bum. He’s only in one picture.”

  Marisa sorted through the photographs, simultaneously looking around as if hoping to find the missing piece of a puzzle.

  “Who is this girl, huh?” asked Marisa, turning to Arvid. “She’s in every picture.”

  “Show me,” requested Arvid.

  Marisa chucked the album at him. Arvid caught the it and stared at the image.

  “Nice,” he summed up briefly.

  “First impressions are deceiving,” Marisa noted darkly. “Anyway, I think she bears an obvious family resemblance to these two.” She circled the parlor with her gaze.

  “Dennis is silent,” Bumblebee said all of a sudden.

  Marisa jumped up. “Quickly, everyone check for escape routes!”

  “Graham, upstairs! Kent, check the bathroom!”

  “Find Dennis! Motherfucker, we’ve fucked up again!” yelled Marisa. “Let’s go to the kitchen,” she added to Arvid without changing her tone.

  “Calm down,” replied Arvid, following her into the
spacious kitchen. “She’s already slipped through our fingers.”

  “Yet again!” said Marisa helplessly.

  “Yet again? It’s just the second time,” Arvid corrected her. “And if you recall, the day before yesterday we walked right into a shithouse of a hurricane.”

  “Yeah, and today, into a shithouse of our own stupidity,” she retorted.

  All the sudden the comm crackled with static.

  “Um, a minute of your attention,” Bumblebee said somewhat less briskly than before. “Actually…”

  “What’s going on with Dennis?” both Arvid and Marisa cried out in one voice.

  “The thing is…” Bumblebee faltered, but then he took himself in hand and continued: “Well, it seems that someone ripped out his throat.”

  Marisa pressed her fingers to her temples as if she suddenly had a migraine. Then she proceeded to open the doors of all the cabinets in the kitchen in absolute silence. Refrigerator, dishwasher, china closet. The fifth door she opened revealed what she had been searching for.

  “It’s all so simple,” said Marisa. “So fucking simple and obvious…”

  “Alright, don’t grieve,” Arvid tried to comfort her.

  “Don’t grieve?” Marisa demanded fervently. “She slipped out under my very nose! We sent two men to their graves. The day before yesterday in that damned coven with a crowd of over one hundred vampires all that happened was that you got a scratch on your face, and that was from a branch. But today we lost two men. Because of four motherfucking bloodsuckers, one of whom got away. And after that you tell me not to grieve?”

  Arvid could think of no reply.

  “We found the escape route,” he said into his comm. “Everyone gather in the kitchen.”

  Then he turned to Marisa.

  “We still need to open this door. It looks tighter than a bank vault. Might be necessary to call in the boys.”

  “Blow it to hell,” Marisa responded wildly. “I could rip it apart with my teeth right about now.”

  She stood as if she was about to impulsively carry out her threat, but Arvid prudently held her back.

  “Hush now, calm down. We’d better entrust this to Pavel. I hope he’s available. You know, well, in short, thanks for cutting off the skull of that beast. A second more and…thank you.”