Not Everything Dies

by John Patrick Kennedy

  Ruxandra nearly tore her hands free, but remembered Elizabeth’s warning. She could not show her power. She struggled and wriggled, her fear and fury growing as she watched Harman tie her wrists together, and felt Dedrick tie the gag behind her head. Then Harman yanked her forward and shoved her face first against the wall.

  The Beast growled in response.

  No! I’m not supposed to give myself away. I’m supposed to be a normal girl.

  The Beast’s growl said otherwise. Ruxandra clamped down hard on it.

  Ulrik and Harman grabbed her arms and shoved them in the air. They lifted her by them, so her feet left the ground and hooked the cord over a spike driven into the wall. Ruxandra dangled in the air, her feet inches above the ground, her face grinding against the wall.

  If I could speak, I could command them to stop.

  She tried to tell them to ungag her, tried to ask why they were hurting her, but the words came out as unintelligible moans.

  “What should we do to her first?” Edda asked.

  “Strip her,” Griffelda said. “See if that bitch marked her.”

  “Excellent idea.” Ulrik stepped forward and pressed Ruxandra’s face to the wall. Something sharp pushed against her neck. “If you move an inch, I’ll cut open your flesh. Do you understand?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to answer. The sharp point left her neck, and a moment later she heard the fabric of her dress ripping. Cold night air hit her skin, raising goose bumps. The cloth continued ripping until her back was exposed to the air.

  “She has not been whipped,” Dedrick said. “Check her legs.”

  Why do they want to know if I have been whipped?

  More cloth ripped. Ulrik grabbed the fabric at her hips and yanked it down. Ruxandra squirmed, trying to get her naked flesh away from his touch. He slapped her bare backside hard.

  “Stay still, whore,” Ulrik snapped. He pulled her stockings off.

  “No marks,” Edda said. “I told you. I told you she wasn’t a student.”

  “Turn her around,” Griffelda said, fury filling her voice. “If her front is unmarked, so help me God, I’ll do it myself.”

  Ulrik and Harman grabbed Ruxandra’s sides and turned her. The cord around her wrists cut into the skin. Pain blossomed in her flesh.

  The Beast growled again, and this time the sound escaped her lips.

  “Shut up, bitch!” Edda reached high and slapped Ruxandra’s face. “You think you can scare us? That you can fool us?”

  Do they know? The thought was terrifying. If they know what I am, they will kill me.

  “That you could pass for one of Bathory’s students?” Edda hit her again, and pain erupted in her other cheek. “My sister wrote to me. She had to use code to keep that bitch from finding out, but she told me what really happens there!”

  “Her tit is scarred,” said Dedrick. “And her stomach.”

  Ulrik grabbed Ruxandra’s breast hard, his fingernails digging into the flesh as he pulled it one way, then the other. She screeched, but the sound barely made it past the gag. She twisted, but he didn’t loosen his grip. The Beast howled and fought inside her. Ruxandra put all her attention to stopping it from breaking free.

  “Those scars are years old.” Ulrik let go of her breast. “Look how faded they are.”

  “Since you’re not a student,” Griffelda said, “you must help Elizabeth torture them.”

  “Beat the bitch.” Edda’s voice was hard. “Beat her until she reveals everything.”

  Ulrik spun and drove a fist into the pit of Ruxandra’s stomach. The breath flew out of her. Her legs kicked against the wall. It hurt badly, and there was no way to stop it without showing what she was.

  The Beast snarled and threw itself against the cage in her mind.

  “Edda’s sister hasn’t written in a month.” Ulrik walked over to the barrel. “Griffelda’s sister hasn’t written in two.”

  He reached into the barrel and came up with five long, leather straps.

  The Beast screamed in Ruxandra’s head.

  “We are going to beat you.” Ulrik’s eyes glittered in the torchlight. “Front and back, as Edda’s sister was beaten. Then, and only then, will I take the gag off your face, and you’d better tell me exactly what Elizabeth does to the girls in her gymnaesium, or we’ll hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

  “Do not think we care if you live, whore,” Griffelda said, her voice loud and angry. “We’ll kill you if you do not talk.”

  Ruxandra barely heard the words. The Beast screamed and thrashed in her head. It wanted to fight. Ruxandra bent all her thoughts and will into holding it down.

  We cannot let them see what we are, she pleaded. We must not!

  “Me first.” Edda stepped forward. “This is for Angela.”

  The strap whistled through the air and smashed down on Ruxandra’s breast. Ruxandra and the Beast together screamed through the gag. Griffelda stepped forward and slashed at the other breast.

  No! Don’t! Please! You will die!

  Dedrick slashed sideways with his strap, right across her belly. He swung it far harder than the girls. Pain tore through Ruxandra’s body as the leather cut open the flesh on her stomach. Silver blood welled up.

  Edda’s eyes went wide. “What is that?”

  Then the Beast tore through the cord around its wrists as if it were spider web.

  No! Stop!

  Its feet hit the ground, knees bent to pounce even as its talon-tipped hand tore the gag off its mouth.

  Griffelda screamed.

  The Beast screamed back, a long, angry wildcat scream that deafened the four in the alley. Edda dropped her strap. Her eyes went wide with horror. Her breath came in a short, stunned grasp. The sharp smell of urine filled the alley as she pissed herself.

  Harman, at the back, turned and tried to run from the alley.

  The Beast roared and jumped.

  It landed on his shoulders, driving him to the ground. He screamed for only a second before the Beast’s talons drove into either side of his neck. It twisted its hands, and Harman’s head ripped free of its body, bouncing against the wall.

  No! Stop!

  Ulrik took two steps before the Beast’s talons tore through his stomach. His intestines slipped from his body in a glistening pile as he fell to his knees, screaming.

  Dedrick leaped forward, a knife in his hand. The Beast’s first slash took his hand at the wrist. Its second ripped half his face off. When Dedrick stumbled back, the Beast ripped its talons down, opening up his clothes and his flesh from his chest to his groin.

  Griffelda raised her hands to protect herself, but it was too late. The Beast’s talon had already slashed open her neck. The muscles shredded, and blood fountained in the air. Her head, still attached to her spine, fell back to dangle upside down a moment before she collapsed.

  The Beast advanced on Edda. She trembled and shook but could not move. The stench of her bowels releasing filled the air. Tears ran down her face. Her mouth opened into a silent plea, but no sound came out at all. The Beast sniffed at her hair, at her throat. Edda shut her eyes tight. Desperate, silent sobs shook her body.

  Please don’t. Please, please, please . . .

  The Beast’s fangs drove into her throat, and Edda stopped moving forever.

  Ruxandra looked at the bloody, broken remains of the two girls and three young men. Horror made her stomach flip. She stumbled back, hand to her mouth.

  Ulrik was still screaming, his legs thrashing and his heels drumming against the ground as the last of his life left him. Beyond him and the alley, she heard shouts.

  “This way! It’s coming from this way!”

  Dozens of booted feet slammed against the cobblestones, coming closer and closer.

  Ruxandra climbed the wall, her talons digging deep into the mortar between the stones, and fled into the night.

  SOLDIERS SWARMED THE city like ants.

  Ruxandra, hiding on the rooftops, could hear everythin
g, from the cries of “Murder!” to the shouted orders from the soldiers. Her hearing was acute enough to pick up the quiet conversations of the servants, gathered at the front of the house to watch the comings and goings, repeating descriptions that changed and grew more hideous as they were passed on. The names and families of the dead were invoked and prayed for. And beneath all the surface noise, one word was whispered over and over again.

  “Monster.”

  “No man could have done that,” a guard captain said as he rode by.

  “I heard it scream,” one of the party guests said. “It wasn’t a sound any person could make.”

  “There’re no wild cats in town,” a soldier whispered to another. “What could it have been?”

  “It was captive,” a servant said. “They had it tied before. Then it broke free and slaughtered them.”

  The wind picked up, dashing through the streets and making cloaks and dresses dance and flap as it raced through the city. Ruxandra’s braids, now soaked in blood, barely moved. She jumped off the roof, landing without a sound. She slipped across the streets and to the Stallburg.

  Elizabeth stood in her window, a fur cloak pulled tight around her body. Her beautiful face was twisted with fury. Ruxandra stared up at her, her throat closing in. She wanted to slip into a dark corner of the city and hide.

  But she couldn’t.

  So she let go of the need to be unnoticed and stood, naked and bloody, in the street below Elizabeth’s window.

  Elizabeth saw her a moment later. She started in surprise and leaned forward. Her eyes went wide at the blood that covered Ruxandra. Then the fury came back, freezing her face. She stepped back from the window. Ruxandra swallowed hard. Then she jumped.

  Elizabeth stared at her when Ruxandra landed lightly in the window. She watched her step down, waited as she closed the window behind her. Ruxandra stood in front of her, hands clasped tightly together, her eyes on the floor.

  “Ruxandra.” The fury from Elizabeth’s face poured into the word. “What in God’s name did you do?”

  Ruxandra couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to see Elizabeth’s face.

  “God damn you, girl!” Elizabeth’s shout echoed in the room. “Do you know what I went through at that party?”

  Ruxandra opened her mouth, searching for words, but Elizabeth didn’t give her the chance to speak.

  “Two hours I spent standing silently behind Lady Czobor while she spoke to everyone except me. Not once did she introduce me, not once did she acknowledge my presence! Two hours!” Elizabeth spun away from Ruxandra and stomped across the room. She spun back. The glow of the fire turned her eyes red.

  “After that, I got to spend another hour sitting on a hard stool in Lady Czobor’s chambers while she relaxed on her settee and interrogated me about my gymnaesium! She asked after the girls there as if she knew them all personally. She demanded details about their care and their discipline. Then she dared to show me a letter purporting to be from one of them, detailing abuses, the dog-fucking whore!”

  Elizabeth grabbed a vase off the table and hurled it against the wall. Ruxandra flinched as it shattered.

  Elizabeth turned the full force of her rage on Ruxandra. “Then, when I go looking for you, not only do I find you have vanished, but that five of Lady Czobor’s favorites, including her nephew for God’s sake, have been mutilated and killed. As if an animal attacked them. Or maybe a Beast!”

  “It wasn’t my fault!” Ruxandra cried.

  “How could it not be your fault?” Elizabeth demanded. “Did someone else go insane and kill them all? Did someone else leave your clothes in the middle of the alley for investigators to find? Covered in blood, no less? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “They hurt me!” Ruxandra shouted back. “They hung me up on a spike, and because you said I wasn’t allowed to use my strength, I had to let them cut the clothes off my body!”

  “You told me you could control people!”

  “Not without speaking! And I could not speak because they gagged me in order to beat me without anyone hearing!”

  “Then you should have controlled yourself!”

  “I was controlling myself until the beating started. Then Dedrick hit me hard enough to cut me open, and the Beast got free, and I . . .”

  The stench of their blood filled Ruxandra’s nose. In her mind, she saw Edda’s horrified face as she realized she was dead, heard Ulrik’s screaming as his heels drummed on the ground. Her knees gave out, and she fell hard to the floor. When she could speak again, her voice shook.

  “Oh God, Elizabeth, I’ve ruined everything.”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth’s cold, hard voice felt like a hammer, hitting her with every word. “You have. I am trying to save my family! I’m trying to keep Rudolph from taking everything from the Bathory line and giving it to his cronies! I am trying to save my life and yours!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “You stupid girl!” Elizabeth stood over her now. She grabbed Ruxandra’s arms in a grip strong enough to hurt and hauled her up to her knees. “Do you know the amount of grief you’ve caused me? The amount of pain?” Elizabeth’s voice broke. She fell to her knees in front of Ruxandra. “I thought you were dead, you stupid girl!”

  The change in Elizabeth’s tone was so abrupt that Ruxandra could only stare.

  “I thought you were dead. When they found your clothes, I thought you’d died. I thought you’d vanished from the earth and I would never see you again. Oh, my Ruxandra!”

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms tight around Ruxandra’s body. She kissed her hair, then her neck. She grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the lips. Ruxandra felt her body heating in response even as her mind whirled in confusion.

  “You’re not angry with me?”

  Elizabeth leaned in and kissed Ruxandra hard. Her hands ran up her back and tangled in her hair. Ruxandra moaned as Elizabeth’s tongue parted her lips. Elizabeth pushed forward until she was pressed hard against Ruxandra’s naked, blood-covered skin. Ruxandra pulled back.

  “Your dress,” Ruxandra gasped. “I’ll ruin it.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Elizabeth pulled Ruxandra to her by her hair. Their lips pressed against one another, and their tongues danced in each other’s mouths. Ruxandra fell into the dizzy swoon that was Elizabeth: the taste and smell of her—wild strawberries just pulled from the earth, the animal, metallic savor of her blood—and the maelstrom of power and hunger that defined her soul. Elizabeth let herself fall backward, bringing Ruxandra down on top of her. One hand stayed tight in Ruxandra’s hair, the other roamed lower, caressing the skin of her back and cupping her backside.

  Elizabeth’s touch lit fires in Ruxandra’s skin. Her back arched under Elizabeth’s trailing fingers, and when the woman’s hand rounded her behind, Ruxandra gasped. Her legs began to part. Elizabeth felt it and drove her own leg up, bending the knee so it split Ruxandra’s thighs and pressed hard against Ruxandra’s sex. The sensation of it rolled through Ruxandra like a wave. Her gasp became a cry only to be smothered by Elizabeth’s mouth once more reclaiming hers.

  Elizabeth’s hips bucked and twisted. She rolled, and Ruxandra was beneath her. She kept a tight grip on Ruxandra’s hair as she pulled her mouth away and engulfed Ruxandra’s pale nipple. Ruxandra’s cry went higher as the wet heat of Elizabeth’s mouth enflamed her flesh. Elizabeth’s knee pressed harder and began a rhythmic rubbing against Ruxandra that made her squirm and moan.

  Ruxandra reached for Elizabeth, tried to caress her, but the pleasure claiming her body was too great for her to do anything but moan.

  In the dark larder beneath the abbey kitchen, Ruxandra clutched Adela’s hair as the girl pressed her against the wall and ground her thigh hard against Ruxandra’s sex.

  Elizabeth’s mouth came back up and claimed Ruxandra’s. Her hand squeezed a breast and then slipped down between Ruxandra’s thighs. Ruxandra cried out again.

  In the abbey orchard, Valeria clutched her clo
se, their hands beneath each other’s dresses, gasping their passion into each other’s mouths.

  “Oh God,” the words came out half-panicked, half-passionate. Ruxandra clutched Elizabeth’s dress. What’s happening?

  “It’s all right,” Adela said, her hands on Ruxandra’s breasts. “The sisters are at their prayers.”

  “It’s just the three of us,” whispered Valeria in her ear.

  Elizabeth released Ruxandra’s hair and slid down her body.

  “Try to be quiet.” Valeria pointed to a picture of a woman kneeling between the thighs of another, her tongue on the other’s sex. “Because I’m going to try that on you.”

  Elizabeth pulled Ruxandra’s thighs wide and put her face between them.

  “Oh God!”

  Ruxandra grabbed Elizabeth’s hair, held tight as the waves of pleasure shook her.

  Neculai kissed her breasts. Adela kissed her mouth hard. Valeria licked the skin on her belly. Elizabeth shifted positions, her fingertips coming up to push against Ruxandra’s sex. Neculai moved his hips forward, and she gasped, and then his pulse beat inside her.

  The beautiful pale woman with the black wings knelt over her. “Did you know you were to be the sacrifice, girl? Did you come here willingly?”

  Adela cried in pain as Sister Sofia dragged her by her hair from Ruxandra’s cell. Ruxandra pulled Neculai tight to her, legs wrapped around his waist, gasping in rhythm with his thrusts. She struggled as her father’s men spread her arms and legs wide, shackling her to the floor.

  “Decide now,” the fallen angel said, voice so cold, so inhumanly beautiful. “Do you want to die?”

  Elizabeth’s finger and tongue moved faster and harder, and Ruxandra’s hips thrust up to meet them.

  Adela and Valeria knelt in the snow, screaming as the nun’s straps ripped into their backs. Her father’s head tore free his body in a spray of blood. Her mouth was on Neculai’s neck, and she wanted to drink and drink and drink.

  The fallen angel’s bleeding finger slipped between Ruxandra’s lips, and that cold voice uttered her curse. “Soon you will be freer than you have ever dreamed.”

  Ruxandra screamed, long and loud, and hurled herself away from Elizabeth.