Malice of the Cross

by Jeremy Croston

  I tried to reach out, but my hand stopped before it touched. It was shaking, nervous. Then, I overcame it and closed it around hers. It was cool to the touch but incredibly soft. Long gone were the callouses built up from years of firing a crossbow.

  We were together again, but I wasn’t about to disappear. “We go to Vlad’s castle, together. He’s made a mistake by allowing me to live and turning you into a vampyre. Together, we will be ready this time.”

  “The two of us won’t be a match for him, I promise you.”

  “What if I told you that Radu still lived, that he was with my friend Julius, causing the avalanche in the valley?”

  She squeezed my hand even harder. “Vlad boasted about how Radu was dead, that he ripped his neck wide open and that the rats were feasting on his corpse.” Her red irises found mine. “Our connection had disappeared, I was sure he was dead!”

  “Maybe it was the influence of the witches, especially if they figured out how my connection worked with Esmerelda,” I offered.

  “Have you crossed paths with him? This isn’t just a rumor, one that Vlad floated out there purposefully…”

  It was my turn to offer the good news, the truth. “Radu is alive and well, just a nasty scar remaining from Vlad’s attack. The only thing he is missing is the confidence that we can kill Vlad.”

  “Let us go back! If the three of us can truly be reunited, then isn’t the prophecy still in play?”

  That was all I needed to hear. I pulled Abigail from the coach and the two of us headed into the bench above. The horses, still in good health even after the snowstorm, were ready to move again. I cracked the reins over their backs and turned them around. With a final kick-up of snow, the two of us were off to rejoin the last member of the triumvirate meant to take down The Impaler.

  It didn’t take but half the night to get Abigail and me back to the refuge that Radu, Julius, and I had been using. Upon hearing the thundering of hooves, Julius and Radu tore out with their weapons raised high. When they saw it was me steering the coach, a smile broke over my old friend’s face while Radu looked as if he would kill me.

  Then he saw Abigail, the great granddaughter of the numerous lineages he never knew he had. He put his sword away and moved quickly through the snow toward us. “How is this possible?” he shouted.

  He helped her down, realizing she was a vampyre a moment later. “What has my brother done to you?” his low voice rumbled.

  This was Abigail’s story to tell and she recounted it to Radu and Julius, just as she had done for me. I could tell that the situation had numbed her to the point of no longer being emotionally affected by what had happened to her. That was almost as sad as the actual trauma and degradation she’d suffered at the hands of that devil.

  As she finished explaining how she had become Vlad’s new watchdog in Munich, she ended with something she hadn’t even told me. “I’m happy I chose to stay alive, even if it meant becoming a vampyre.” Radu went to say something, but she stopped him. “Each of us present is here because Vlad made a decision not to kill us.”

  “Speaking as an outside observer,” Julius entered the conversation. “From my point of view, every tyrant in history creates his own worst enemies. Vlad has formed each of you into the people who stand before me today. It would be a shame to let this opportunity go.”

  I placed my hand in the center. “God has given us a second chance. Second Peter, 3:9 tells us The Lord is not slow to fulfill his Promise as some count slowness. He is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. This is our chance for repentance.”

  “Maybe it was you who should’ve become Stefania’s holy leader,” Julius joked. He placed his hand on mine. “I want to see my beloved Europe restored.”

  Abigail reached under and nestled her hand against mine. “Long has been the night that I wished for the strength to fight back. Being here, with all of you, has renewed it.”

  The last person was Radu. His eyes didn’t betray a single emotion. Without him, we wouldn’t have any hopes or prayers, that much we all knew. As the moments passed, I fully expected him to walk out of the lodging and disappear into the night. Instead…

  “A friend loves at all times and a brother is born for a difficult time. Maximus, you have become a brother to me in ways I never would have imagined.” He placed his hand with ours.

  Just like that, with Radu’s recital of Proverbs 17:17, our cause was reborn—to topple Drakovia and end the life of Vlad Dracul once and for all.

  Chapter Thirty

  “B aron Renard, your life is forfeit.”

  I was standing over the vampyre, an older man with grey hair and the normal red eyes that marked the damned. He’d put up a good fight, just not quite good enough. With the stake in my hands, I was ready to kill the vampyre while my companions finished off his entourage.

  He wasn’t begging for his life. “The hunter, Maximus Brinza. If I am to die, by your hand would be acceptable.”

  “How can you look death in the face so casually?” His nonchalant behavior disturbed me for some reason.

  He coughed, a bit of blood seeped from his lips. “I’ve done horrible things since becoming this eternal daemon. I knew one day it would catch up to me, and I was prepared for the consequences.” He reached down and a small book slipped from his pants pocket. “Do me a favor and read me a Psalm, any Psalm. I want to exit this world under the fallacy that I deserve the God that I forsook.”

  I opened the book up, unsure why I was granting such a request. My hand stopped at Psalm 121:

  “I lift my eyes to the mountains,

  Where does my help come from?

  My help comes from the Lord,

  The maker of Heaven and Earth.

  He will not let your foot slip,

  He who watches over you while you slumber,

  Indeed, he who watches over Israel,

  Will never slumber nor sleep.

  The Lord watches over you,

  The Lord is your shade at your right hand.

  The sun will not harm you by day,

  Nor the moon by night.

  The Lord will keep you from all harm,

  He will watch over your life,

  Coming and going, both now and forevermore.”

  It was a serene, appropriate passage, given he was a vampyre and about to cross over into the next life. When I finished my reading, he gave a small nod at the end and I sunk the stake into his heart. Renard went out of this world with dignity, not even flinching as the wood pierced the organ that kept him alive for so many unnatural years. A smile flashed across his face and his soul left his body.

  “That was quite the courtesy you provided him,” observed Julius. I wondered how long he’d been watching.

  I got up and placed Renard’s Bible in his hands and crossed them together over it. “Maybe he was repentant for all the evil he had committed. If that was true, then maybe there’s redemption waiting for him beyond the light.”

  “Redemption, a gift that all of us have access to.”

  Radu and Abigail joined us, the rest of the vampyres dead or dying. The blind Seer had exchanged her formal wear back for her hunter’s clothes. She was using my carpenter fish daggers until we could get her a crossbow. Though blind, she was just as proficient in up close battle as she was from a distance. As Radu explained, a vampyre’s other senses are attuned higher than a human’s, and as Abigail had adjusted over the years, she was now an ultimate predator.

  This was the last piece of the puzzle for us. Making sure that Vlad’s inner circle was dead would cripple his reign of terror over Europe tremendously. Without his lieutenants in place to make sure his vile rule was upheld, the rest of the continent could begin to heal. The only thing left was striking at the heart of evil—to reclaim the Vatican and the Catholic Church as ours.

  We were tired, so we wouldn’t travel any farther tonight. Still in Austria, the journey down the mountains and into Italia w
ould be an undertaking requiring everyone’s full strength. We left the burning caravan, with all the bodies scattered along the pass and headed back to our safe house. Thankfully, the Alps were known for their wide range of old hunting and camping lodges. Because of the frequency this passage was used, Radu had secured a condemned wooden hut for us. It wasn’t much, but it kept us warm and out of the elements.

  As we entered, Julius collapsed on his makeshift cot, falling to sleep without a word. Radu, who needed blood after such a battle, excused himself and left. He promised to be back before the sun’s coming. He also promised not to kill anyone just to sate his hunger.

  That just left Abigail. “Why didn’t you go with him?” I asked. She, too, looked very hungry.

  She had gone with him reluctantly before, as she made it clear that she would never forgive herself if she killed an innocent who donated a warm meal to her. Abigail lingered this time, sitting down and offering me a place in front of her.

  “I wanted to spend some time with you, alone.”

  I was caught off guard by this. “Have I done something wrong or is there a need to speak to me?”

  “I wanted to tell you more about my captivity with Vlad,” she said simply.

  That would be something I’d never ask her to relive. I could only imagine the horror “Abigail,” I started. “You don’t have to go into any great detail for me.”

  “Yes, I do.” She folded her legs over each other. “Because, even in the darkest hour, knowing that you were still out there made it all worthwhile. I chose to live in the hopes I’d meet you again one day, even as this monstrosity.”

  Her words were captivating. “Just what happened to you all those years?”

  “When he wasn’t tormenting me or threatening to have my head stuck on a pike, he boasted about his powers and abilities.” I leaned in close, curious what information she’d learned. “The night he attacked us in Milan, he used what he called a Hell Jump to reach us.”

  I’d never heard of such a technique from a daemon before. “I often wondered how he showed up so easily.”

  “He needs an exact destination to arrive at and Horus gave it to him. The moment the shade lost his life, Vlad knew he needed to intervene.” Her grip tightened a bit. “He would use it to scare me when I was locked in darkness, appearing out of nowhere in a burst of flames.”

  I couldn’t even imagine the horrors she went through. Hopefully, with the answers that were beginning to come together, we’d have a better chance the second time. I made a mental note to remember that Vlad could do that with ease.

  As I was thinking, she continued, “He asked me if I ever wanted children before he turned me. I told him yes, what woman doesn’t? That’s when he told me vampyres were infertile. His exact words were, how can something touched by Hell bring something so pure into this world?”

  I didn’t know how to react to that. Abigail’s reaction was enough though; she couldn’t fight back the heartbreak any longer and began crying. She collapsed into my arms, sobbing the entire time. “How can anyone love me, a blind daemon who can’t even be a proper woman?”

  “After everything you’ve been through, to live through it, how could anyone not love you?” I replied.

  From the opposite side of the lodging, I heard Julius sniffle his nose. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt an otherwise tender moment.”

  Abigail quickly composed herself, wiping away the tears. “No, it was my fault for allowing my emotions to rule me.”

  “Never apologize for that, my dear. Love, empathy, kindness—those are the qualities that will end Vlad Dracul’s grip of terror. What I’ve seen here in the early morning is the power to kill the Devil himself,” he said with conviction.

  She got back to her feet. “I should probably attempt to find Radu before the sun comes up. I do need a little bit to eat before I get too weak to fight.”

  “Stay.” I slid the sleeve up on my arm. “Here, you can have some of mine tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

  She reached out with her hands and felt the exposed skin of my forearm. “Are you sure you wish for me to do this?”

  It was an easy answer. “For the woman who stayed alive for me, yes.”

  Chapter Thirty One

  **Italia; 1779 the year of our Lord**

  W e were back in Italia, the place of our defeat. The Italian countryside was a beautiful place, even as winter was starting to drift in. Radu warned us the closer we came to Vlad’s seat of power, the worse things would get. “From his castle, he can control the elements of Hell as he sees fit. Once he knows we’re coming, all bets are off.”

  That didn’t surprise me. There was much I didn’t know the first time that, as we got closer to our final destination, would better prepare me for our second attempt. Vlad was powerful, yes, that was true, yet I couldn’t get the strange thought out of my head that a greater force was guiding us. As I looked at the three very different people I traveled with, there was a great sense this time that God himself had brought us together. God made sure we survived our ordeals and had come together stronger.

  We continued our southward march as fast as we could, given the weather. Eventually we had to call it for the night as we approached a small village just outside of Florence, in the Tuscan region. We were quite close to the Church State of the Vatican, the very next region to the south.

  The village looked to be a wine making one, as a tall winery imposed a long shadow in the moonlight. As such, that was all the more surprising to see it so quiet. Villages like this made a good bit of their coin at night, with locals and visitors from the influential cities coming together to sample the newest blends.

  As we entered, not a single light was on in any dwelling. The four of us continued the long walk to the first inn we saw, right beside what should’ve been a bustling tavern. We opened the door to find it abandoned. “This is quite the ill omen,” Julius mentioned.

  We left the inn and headed into the tavern, which was also barren of any life. “I’m with Julius, something’s very wrong here.”

  “Everyone stop.” Abigail, moving forward, stopped at the bar. With a quick hand, she grabbed at something, only to bring a very dirty, very scared man into the little bit of light we had. Realizing he wasn’t a threat, she sat him down against the wooden bar. “Are you okay?” she asked in Italian.

  The man was shaking so bad he couldn’t even give a proper answer. When he did, he was more afraid of who’d discovered him. “Lady Dracul!” he hushed out. “I wasn’t expecting you, since rumors of your death found your way to our humble village.”

  We all gave Abigail a look. “Vlad took great pleasure in using another Dracul as a point of fear in the reaches closest to his kingdom,” she answered us before turning back to the man. “What has happened here?”

  “Werewolves,” he responded, fear penetrating each syllable. “Vlad has unleashed the werewolves on Italia as penance for your death.”

  That was the worst possible news. If this village had been ravaged by the Transylvanian werewolves, that meant they were probably still close by. If they picked up our scents, they would be a constant battle from here into the Vatican. I, for one, didn’t like the idea of worrying about Dread Howl any longer.

  “With the wolves as his last army to use, we should kill Dread Howl here and now.”

  Julius agreed with me. “It would be one last exclamation point on our own campaign against Vlad. Killing Dread Howl would go to show we aren’t to be trifled with.”

  Radu, ever the pragmatic one, wasn’t quick to give his thoughts. “Vlad probably doesn’t know who’s behind the assassinations yet. If we go after Dread Howl, it will give him another chance to know we’re still alive.”

  This was a good point, but I remembered a conversation we had a long time ago in regards to The Jackal. “I’d rather deal with the enemies in front of me than the ones who choose to hide.”

  Radu let out a rough laugh. “The more time changes us, the more you r
eturn to the same man. Very well, we deal with the werewolves.”

  The man, who was still cowering in fear, took our conversation as his cue to run away. None of us tried to stop him; chances are he was running to his doom. If there were werewolves nearby, the frightened smell of fresh meat would attract them. He’d run from his best chance of survival, which was staying near us.

  With a fully stocked bar and some dried meats in the back, the tavern made an excellent choice for us to use as shelter. The rest of the evening and into the next day, I began to come up with a foolproof plan to lure the werewolves to me, to us. With the help of Julius, as the sun began its descent into the Italian winter afternoon, the plan was put into place.

  Werewolves could move around in the day without the ill side effects that hindered a vampyre. That being said, they were nocturnal creatures by habit, as their infection was given to them by Baal, Daemon Father of the Moon. Because of that, we were able to move without a constant fear lingering. And for my plan, we needed to make sure we were precise with our bait.

  We took strips of the dried meat from the tavern and soaked them in our own blood. We had to be careful with those incisions to each other, as a slight miscalculation would nick the wrong artery and we would’ve bled out. Using my grandfather’s sword over the other weapons I had seemed the most logical choice. It was surgeon’s work, but when we finished, we were still alive and used strips of cloth we found as coverings.

  With the blood-soaked meat, we set our traps in the outer edges of the village. Radu, before he fell asleep, taught us how to make a concoction from the alcohols available, at my request. Once he realized what I had in mind, he was much more open to tapping into his daemonic nature, for the greater good.

  With a smile, “When the wolves come for the free meal—and they will because they are stupid—the Hell fire I rain down upon them will make for quite the show.”

  “Do you think this will work?” Julius asked me as we set the last trap.