“I don’t need to; your aura gives off everything one needs to see.” He stood up and stretched out. “Put it out of your mind for the moment. When night falls, we stay here. Something tells me The Jackal is going to send some more wolves for us to cut up.”
If that was the case, I needed to sharpen the edge of my blade. I removed my sword and began to smooth out the rough spots from the tip to the pommel. Radu walked over to inspect my work. “What is the name of this blade?”
“My sword doesn’t have a name,” I replied. No one named an unknown sword, that was common knowledge.
He removed his own. “This is the Dragon’s Fang as Dracul means dragon.” He stabbed it into the ground not even a foot length from me. “Your father hadn’t named his either, until he met me. He settled on the name Star Light when he looked towards the Heavens for an answer.”
“Are you telling me I need to come up with something?”
“What if this is the weapon that kills Vlad? The world won’t know what weapon to honor.”
If my dad named his weapon at Radu’s suggestion, then I, too, would name mine. Just as he did all those years ago, I looked towards the Heavens in the hopes of finding a name. The sun was giving way to a crescent shaped moon in the night’s sky.
“Crescent Moon,” I told Radu. “The name of the blade to kill Vlad the Impaler is Crescent Moon.”
Chapter Four
“R adu!” a voice bellowed. “I know you are in there, worm!”
From the hay loft, I looked down and saw The Jackal and the horde of wolves he’d brought with him. The Jackal was an impressive figure—tall, muscular, and covered in jet-black fur. Blood was dripping from his jaws. How many men had he killed on his way to our hideaway?
Radu walked out of the barn. “It’s Gabriel, mutt.” He was pointing the Dragon’s Fang at the beast’s chest. “Last time we met, I made the mistake of not killing you properly. I shall not do that again.”
The Jackal slapped the sword away. “You don’t remember it the way I do, Radu. I remember you barely escaping my minions with your life.”
Great, it was a dick measuring contest. I didn’t care much though, my role was to light and throw the torch in my hands when Radu gave the signal. He’d found an accelerant in the farm’s main house that he promised would set the wolves into a blaze. He also warned me that burning werewolf fur smelled like a shitter that caught fire. I can’t say I was looking forward to that.
The wolves behind The Jackal began to encroach on Radu’s space. The stoic vampyre didn’t even move. No, all he did was give a slight smile and pull out the glass bottle. Removing the stopper with inhuman speed, I lit the torch as he instructed me to do. The moment the glass shone in the pale moonlight, I tossed the torch towards it. Both the accelerant and the fire landed at the same time, just in front of all the wolves. Splashes of the flammable liquid hit them and soon most of the pack was howling in pain.
He was right, the air soon smelled of burning feces. Radu was gleeful is his slaughter of the scrambling wolves. I jumped out of the loft’s window and soon joined in the fun. One wolf ran right towards me, not knowing I was there. He was rewarded with cold steel between his eyes, splitting his skull open. Removing the sword as quickly as it entered, I found my next target and cut off its front paw. It yelped and tumbled to the ground, the fire finishing him off.
A giant paw grabbed me from behind. The Jackal, who had successfully avoided the fires, had me in his grip. “So, the little whelp has a helper? Not for long.” He reached back with his free paw, those needle-like claws ready to gut me and spill my intestines all over the ground.
I tried to punch him in the nose, which stuck out further than any other part of his body. He caught my fist and sent it back into my face. My next desperation attack was to try and kick him in the groin. Even as I connected, The Jackal just laughed at my pathetic attempt.
There was murder in his voice. “It is time to end this, you worm,” he snarled.
The Jackal dropped me. He hadn’t made a noise, but I saw an arrow head sticking out of his other paw, the nasty barbed steel having ruined it. I looked up and on the barn’s roof was a hooded figure wearing the mark of the Vatican on her tunic. She cocked another arrow in the crossbow and fired at The Jackal. The werewolf didn’t want to hang around to be struck again; he took off into the forest to leave his comrades to suffer their fate.
Saluting the blind archer, I rejoined Radu in finishing off the rest of the wolves. The moment that shocked me the most was when he picked up one by the spine, ripping it out. Getting a grip on the lifeless husk, his fangs sunk into its neck and he drained it of as much blood as possible. When he threw the corpse to the side, he looked crazy. Blood stained his face and the red liquid was dripping off his fangs. Whatever hope the werewolves had was lost when they looked at him.
I finished the last wolf off with Crescent Moon, splitting one open from its shoulder to its tail. This pack was dead, but The Jackal was still at large. Radu cleaned both himself and his blade off before coming over to check on the archer.
She gracefully jumped off the roof onto the second floor before one more jump brought her to the ground. “Can’t say I was expecting that when I followed the wolves out here,” she said.
“Ahh, the blind seer,” Radu greeted her.
“Please, call me Abigail. To call me the blind seer is an insult, vampyre.”
Radu seemed genuinely impressed with her. “Your eyes are lame, but you still possess sight.” He then addressed her Vatican symbol. “Your company was spearheaded by Bishop Brandon, if I’m not mistaken.”
She drew in a sharp, short, gasp. “How does one like you know of the Bishop?”
“Short, fat, Englishman who takes his pleasure with men?” She nodded in surprise. “Yes, I know of him. He’s a blowhard and a hypocrite. That’s the problem with the church, too many hypocrites in important positions.”
Both Abigail and I roared to the defense of the Vatican and the Roman Catholic Church. I was surprised Abigail came to their defense, as well, based on the fact she’d been left here and turned bitter. This just proved that the belief in and love of our Lord was too strong for even the most hardened of hearts to turn away. Eventually, Radu apologized.
His apology was total horseshit, but at least he paid us lip service. “I didn’t mean to offend. Sometimes, when you’re as old as I am, you forget tact.” He sighed in annoyance. “Strike that. Honestly, I just don’t care, but you humans need affirmation when someone is supposedly wrong.”
The second part was more in character. “Were you not human once?” Abigail asked him.
“Over three hundred years I’ve lived with this curse. My lifespan as a man was just a flicker compared to my eternal sentence as a monster,” he lamented.
Abigail grabbed her crossbow and quickly fired off another arrow. At first, I thought she was going to kill Radu, though I doubted an arrow would do the trick. Instead, the bolt flew by both of us and struck something in a nearby tree. It fell out, colliding hard with the ground. It looked like some daemonic bird with three eyes.
Radu ran over to it and stomped on its head until the center eye burst like festering blister. “Dammit, Vlad knows where we are.”
“What in God’s name was that thing?”
“That, young Maximus, was one of Vlad’s parlor tricks. He can take over the minds of creatures and use them as his ‘long eyes.’ That center eye was the one he could see through.”
Abigail, for good measure, put another arrow in it. “Its evil aura spiked, giving it away to me.”
“This village is no longer safe for us to stay.” Radu gestured into the woods. “We leave now, before he sends more minions.”
It was just like when I had to leave Stefania. This village would be better off without us here. Well, two of the three of us agreed with that sentiment. Abigail dug her heels in. “I’m not leaving this town to the fate of Vlad the Impaler. He could send that monstrous werewolf again.”
“The Jackal? He won’t be alive long enough to exact any revenge upon these people,” Radu promised. “If you come with us, we will see that abomination dead.” Then he added, “Even if you don’t, The Jackal won’t live to see another season.”
“What do you have to gain by staying here?” I asked Abigail.
She turned back, as if looking towards the tavern where we first met. “This was where I was discarded like a piece of trash. I’m not sure I’m ready to venture back into the world.” She ran her hand over her eyes. “I’ll only be a liability.”
Radu smacked her hand down. “You saw that raven before either of us and we each have two working sight organs. If you are fine with selling yourself short and being a mope, then I have no need for you.” He stormed off towards the forest. “Come on, Brinza. We have a Jackal to kill.”
I heard the snap of the crossbow and this time it was pointed at Radu. “Never touch me like that again.”
When he turned around, his red eyes were alight with joy. “It’s about damn time you found your spine, girl. Fall in line with Brinza and let us be off.”
Abigail looked at me, concerned. “Is this how he always is?”
“He’s actually in a good mood. Killing daemons does that for him.”
Radu wasn’t wasting time. He’d already walked into the dark forest, leaving the two of us behind. Not wanting to get left without our vampyre, Abigail and I hustled to catch up. When we did, I could’ve sworn I heard something like a laugh. Maybe he was finally getting used to having human companions.
“Just a warning to the two of you, I’m soon going to need human blood.” That wasn’t a good sign. “Don’t get in my way when I need to eat.”
I pretended that I didn’t hear that warning. The thought of him feeding on a human was quite disturbing. Instead, I went with logistics. “Where are we headed next?”
“The Jackal will need to regroup and create more wolves.” Radu stopped for a moment. “Yes, he’ll most likely be headed off to Budapest. If we keep a fast pace, we will be able to head him off before he makes it to the city.”
“He’s injured and alone. We have no reason not to catch him,” Abigail agreed.
With a sense of urgency, we stopped talking and kept pace with Radu. The hunt for The Jackal was on.
Chapter Five
T hree days had passed since our encounter with The Jackal. We were on the travelers’ road to Budapest, hunting the creature before he had a chance to recover, both physically and with superior numbers. Werewolf bites were highly infectious, so within a small period of time, The Jackal could rebuild an army of daemons. We’d been lucky so far in our encounters, but the one thing about luck is that at some point, it runs out.
As always, we were traveling in the evenings. During the day, we’d rest in secluded places just off the road. Radu claimed he could go further into the morning than we currently were, but I wasn’t going to call his bluff. The last thing we needed was a severely weakened companion when we caught up to the werewolf. The Jackal was strong. A coward for sure, but even cowards were able to find their true strength when cornered. And that’s exactly what was happening; we were cornering him.
Daylight was almost upon us. “Gabriel,” I said, using his preferred name. “It’s time to seek shelter.”
We were close. I knew Radu wasn’t willing to rest. “We can catch him. He has to rest as well—this gives us a chance.”
“Max is right,” Abigail said, supporting me. “You’re weak from lack of nutrition and the sunlight will wipe out the rest of your strength.” Abigail’s knowledge of vampyres was quite vast, as I learned over the past few days. Her company had caught and tortured one in their travels and the daemon revealed much to them.
“I relent, for I do need to feed.” Radu’s fangs were starting to worry me. Would he try to feed on one of us? “Find adequate shelter, I will worry about my nourishment.”
Neither one of us said a word to that. Personally, I was glad not to have to witness what Radu needed to do. Looking for shelter for the day was a good way to keep my mind occupied from imagining the horrors that may be unleashed. Abigail’s silence seemed to match my own. With Radu heading back down the road, the two of us ventured off and into the wooded area running parallel to the road.
Once out of earshot, Abigail voiced her displeasure. “We give him too much leeway. How do we know he’s not biding his time to eat us?”
“He needs us,” I told her. Even though Radu hadn’t told us his story, I was under the belief that if he could’ve killed Vlad, he would have done so already. “He might be Vlad’s younger brother, but he’s cut from a different cloth.”
“If you say so.”
Abigail and I had been talking more and more as our journey together began. I was a bit more forthcoming about my past than she was, but I was starting to get somewhere. For instance, I knew she was from the northern reaches of Moldavia and that her father was part of the Vatican’s army as well. The need to fight for the honor of our Lord ran strong in her veins. That’s why she was with us, even if she pretended to be mad at God for her handicap.
To me, she had no handicap. Her skill with a crossbow was proof of that. She may have used her hands, nose, and ears to help her navigate, but her sight was as good as anyone’s. Even if it didn’t originate from her eyes anymore.
Off to our right, I saw a rather large wild boar foraging for bugs. “That’d make a tremendous meal for us, wouldn’t it?”
Her nose wrinkled as it caught the scent of the creature. “Father, guide my arrow true.”
She was almost as quick as Radu when it came to movements with her crossbow. She could load an arrow and fire it with unmatched speed and accuracy. No sooner did the bolt leave the firing mechanism of the crossbow, than it found its mark in the boar’s head. The poor creature stumbled forward and dropped dead in the grass not even a stone’s throw from us.
I knew what was coming next. “I killed it, you butcher it,” Abigail said dryly.
My knife was in my hand even as she said it. “Of course, dear,” I said with jest.
Butchering a wild boar is a bit of a tedious task. The skin is tough and then, once you get through, finding the best parts of the animal to eat can be annoying. The problem with boar are the worms. You need to stay away from the stomach area, focusing on the back and shoulder regions.
Tearing away the skin, the pungent odor of the innards hit me. I made quick work of the beast, getting the parts we could cook and that would taste good. Once the meat was procured, knowing the dead carcass could attract unwanted attention, I grabbed some branches and a rock. Working quickly, I was able to get a spark from my blade and the rock to fall on the wood. The boar’s organs were rather flammable and it didn’t take long for the creature to catch fire.
With my work done, I hoisted our dinner up and began to walk towards Abigail. It looked like she found a good spot for us. Coming from the other way was Radu, looking a bit more refreshed. He saw me coming as well, and quickly wiped away the blood that was still on his face. Privately, I was concerned about what he had just done. Of course, the same could be said of what Abigail and I had done with the boar.
Radu didn’t say a word as he entered the sheltered encampment, instead lying down and rolling over just before the sun peeked over the horizon. While he slept, Abigail and I built a fire and began to cook our own food.
Looking back at the sleeping vampyre, “I wish I could say I wasn’t disturbed by his actions.”
“If we weren’t disturbed, Abigail, I doubt we’d be considered humans,” I explained to her.
“Our humanity, the one thing that keeps us from joining the daemons.”
It was an interesting choice of words. Years ago, when my grandfather was the Brinza who was fighting off the daemons, people who lived around us believed us to be part of Satan’s forces. There was no way a mortal like Denis could battle those creatures, they would say. Some theorized his fighting prowess came f
rom bathing in Satan’s own blood. It was only when Denis fought and killed the Witch of the Wild to save the village’s children was he finally recognized as a hero.
Even then, there were some who spoke ill of him.
When my father, Ivan, took over, popular opinion began to shift in our favor. My father was a charismatic man whose words were as quick as his sword. He won Stefania’s loyalty with excellent tales and a generous tab at the local bars. When he left on his ill-fated journey, he was at the height of his ability and popularity. His loss was a difficult one for everyone.
I was more like Ivan than I was Denis in the people’s view. I knew the importance of plying people with ale and stories of my achievements. However, deep down, I’d rather be hunting creatures than telling tales in a bar. My mother, before she died, told me I was as powerful as my grandfather was. Those who were in the know knew Denis was the pinnacle of daemon slayers. My father was no slouch, but Denis’s skills were incomparable.
“You said your father was in the Vatican’s army, no?” I asked.
Abigail was in the middle of chewing a mouthful of boar. Like the crude woman she was, she answered with no regard of manners. “Yes,” she mumbled. She swallowed her bite, making it easier to understand what she said next. “The Vatican came to Moldavia to recruit God-fearing soldiers to combat the growing darkness. My father believed in the mission, as did I.”
“That’s why traveling with Gabriel makes you a bit uncomfortable.”
“He wouldn’t be my first choice of companions, yet I know what’s at the end of this road. If he truly is on our side, we will need his skill as much as he’ll need ours,” she reasoned.
The boar was a tad tough, more like jerky. Ripping off a piece and eating it gave me a moment to collect my thoughts. “I fought him, back when he came to Stefania to recruit me.”
“You fought Gabriel?”
“Sword against sword. He was toying with me, of course, yet through it all, he could’ve killed me with ease.” I spoke truthfully to her. “I’m not saying he cares for us, but as you just admitted, he needs our skill. I believe we’d be fools not to trust him completely.”
Malice of the Cross Page 3