Not Everything Dies

by John Patrick Kennedy

  Elizabeth dropped the drained woman and grabbed another, a small blonde huddling in a corner. The woman’s arm popped out of its socket as Elizabeth yanked her forward. She raised her other hand to claw at Elizabeth’s eyes. Elizabeth turned her head and sank her fangs into the woman’s wrist. Then she ripped upward, flaying the woman’s forearm. More blood spurted, and again Elizabeth drank.

  One woman tried running around Elizabeth to the door.

  Without looking, Elizabeth slashed out, tearing through the woman’s dress and skin and muscle and spilling her intestines to the floor. The woman howled in agony and fell in the slippery, bloody mess. Elizabeth tossed aside the one she had drunk and leaped again.

  The slaughter lasted only minutes.

  Ruxandra stood in the doorway the entire time, frozen in horror.

  Elizabeth didn’t stop killing. She didn’t drink from all of them, either. She howled with glee as she gutted and ripped off limbs and tore through throats. Blood sheeted the walls and coated the floor. The stench of ruptured bowels and voided bladders mixed in with the heavy copper of the blood, filling the room with a foul stench that made even Ruxandra’s eyes water.

  In the midst of it, reveling in the slaughter, stood Elizabeth.

  The last woman, one of the knife fighters, hung suspended in the air, Elizabeth’s talons shoved deep under her ribs, Elizabeth’s mouth pressed hard against her throat. She twitched and shook as Elizabeth sucked away the last of her blood.

  Elizabeth let the woman slide from the talons to the floor. She looked over the room, her eyes becoming sharp and focused for the first time.

  “Oh dear,” she said. “Did I do that?”

  Then her eyes closed, and her legs gave way, and she fell to the floor. Blood splatted beneath her.

  Still, Ruxandra could only stare.

  I thought I could lead her outside. I thought we would fight the soldiers and feed her hunger. I did not think she’d do this. She didn’t even feed off most of them.

  “Is she finished?” Dorotyas asked.

  Ruxandra turned. Dorotyas stood at the top of the stairs, looking down.

  “Why are you here?” Ruxandra demanded. “Why aren’t you hanging in the barn?”

  “Elizabeth only had me there to convince you how sorry she was.” Dorotyas smiled, looking like a toad about to snare a fly. “She had me cut down the moment she knew you believed her.”

  She took several steps downward and leaned forward to peek into the parlor. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed.

  “What are you doing, letting her lie in the blood like that?” Dorotyas demanded. “Get her out of there. Now!”

  Ruxandra turned, her hands tightening into fists. “This is your fault.”

  Dorotyas laughed. “I’m not the one who turned her into a vampire.”

  “You’re the one who opened the door!”

  “Of course I opened the door. Did you think I was going to let her run wild outside?”

  Ruxandra’s eyes went wide. “You knew?”

  “Of course I knew. I’ve been listening to you two since you arrived here. Why do you think I brought the whore with me? Good thing, too. Otherwise, I’d have been my lady’s breakfast.”

  “I was taking her to the soldiers!”

  “So sorry she didn’t murder the ones you wanted.” Dorotyas came down the stairs. “Too bad, though. It would have been less mess.”

  She waded through the blood and offal on the floor without flinching. When she reached Elizabeth, she looked back.

  “Is she going to bite me?”

  “She might leap up at any moment and rip your throat out.”

  Dorotyas glared at her. “And if she doesn’t?”

  Ruxandra looked around, heartsick. The women had done nothing to deserve death. She felt suddenly exhausted. Dorotyas was still glaring.

  “She’ll probably sleep until tomorrow night,”

  “Good. That will give us time to get this mess cleaned up.” Dorotyas picked up Elizabeth and thrust her at Ruxandra. “Take her to the baths in the back of the building. I’ll let the other whores out of the basement and get them to clean up. I’ll say the soldiers attacked.”

  Ruxandra took Elizabeth. She was not light, though for Ruxandra it was an easy burden. “Where are the rest of Elizabeth’s party?”

  “Upstairs in their rooms, where they are staying until Elizabeth or I tell them to come out.”

  Dorotyas tromped toward the basement door. Ruxandra took Elizabeth to the baths. As she walked, she heard Dorotyas open the basement door. One of the women there asked what happened. Then came the sound of Dorotyas’s strap striking flesh and a wail of pain.

  Once Elizabeth is better, I can take her away from that woman. I will explain how Dorotyas ruined my plan and let Elizabeth run amok among innocents.

  It took an hour to get Elizabeth clean. Ruxandra wrapped her in sheets and took her upstairs. As they passed the parlor, Ruxandra saw five of the prostitutes on their knees, buckets and rags beside them, trying not to vomit as they cleaned away the mess. Dorotyas stood in the door, strap in her hand, watching.

  I don’t care if she thinks she needs Dorotyas. The woman is a she-devil.

  In Elizabeth’s room, Ruxandra closed the curtains tight, then the curtains around Elizabeth’s bed. She couldn’t bring herself to lie down beside Elizabeth. She was still shaken by the extent of the slaughter in the parlor.

  I expected her to feed. I expected it to be bloody, but this . . .

  Why did she kill them all?

  Why did she enjoy it so much?

  I wasn’t like that when I turned, was I?

  She remembered how she tore her own father’s head off, how she chased down and killed his men. She could see every detail of their slaughter, remember every brutal need that drove her to kill them all.

  Maybe I was like that.

  Even so, those women did nothing to deserve it. It shouldn’t have happened.

  It’s all my fault.

  Ruxandra climbed onto the bed and sat in the corner farthest from Elizabeth’s sleeping body. She leaned back against the post and looked at the woman.

  What will she be when she wakes?

  She kept watching until dawn came and exhaustion took her.

  “Ruxandra! Wake up!”

  Ruxandra blinked twice, shook her head and looked. Elizabeth was standing naked by the window, looking out into the darkness. There was no candle lit, and the fireplace was cold.

  “This is beyond belief,” Elizabeth said. “I can see so clearly. I can see everything for miles. I can hear everything.”

  Ruxandra slipped from the bed and came up behind her. She put a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. The warmth was gone from Elizabeth’s flesh. The muscles underneath felt harder. Her scent was different, but not less appealing—instead of reminding Ruxandra of flowers and pastries, she was like stone and ice, like the stars.

  Elizabeth looked back over her shoulder. Her face was that of a thirty-year-old.

  She smiled. “I am no longer an old woman.”

  “No,” Ruxandra agreed. “You’re not.”

  “You didn’t tell me how powerful I would feel.” Elizabeth turned back to the window. “You didn’t tell me how amazing the world looked through your eyes.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ruxandra whispered. “About all of it. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Elizabeth turned. “For what?”

  “The women you killed,” Ruxandra said. “It should have been the soldiers. The women—”

  “Were peasants.” Elizabeth’s tone brooked no argument. “They were whores, selling their bodies to pleasure their betters. Last night they served me better than they had any man in their lives.”

  “But . . .” Ruxandra didn’t know what to say.

  “Peasants,” Elizabeth repeated. “We are Blood Royal.”

  Is this how I seem to others? Cold, monstrous? Yet as soon as the thought came, she put it aside. We are not monsters. We are lovers.
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br />   Elizabeth turned away from Ruxandra and went to the clothing chest. “Come, help me dress.”

  “Yes.” Ruxandra nodded. “Of course. It’s time we left the city.”

  “No.” Elizabeth pulled a dress and chemise from her trunk. “It’s time we found Rudolph.”

  Ruxandra’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “First, show me how you command someone. And how you pass unseen.”

  “I . . .”

  “Hurry!”

  In the time it took Elizabeth to dress, Ruxandra taught her both skills.

  “Excellent,” Elizabeth said as she put on her shoes. She went to her door and called, “Dorotyas! Fetch two of the whores.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Elizabeth preened in front of the mirror. Ruxandra’s legs trembled. She sat on the bed. She didn’t understand what Elizabeth was doing, didn’t know why she wouldn’t run away. She tried to find the words to ask her but Dorotyas returned., When Dorotyas knocked and pushed the two women into the room, Elizabeth smiled.

  “Excellent.” She advanced on the girls. “Now, let’s see if it works. You two stand on one leg.”

  Both girls lifted a leg and stood there.

  “Put your leg down, turn in a circle three times.”

  They did so.

  “Perfect,” Elizabeth said, her voice low and intense. “Absolutely perfect.”

  She looked at Ruxandra. “I wonder . . .”

  “Wonder what?”

  “Ruxandra, stand on your head.”

  “What?”

  “Interesting,” Elizabeth said. “It doesn’t work on other vampires. And now . . .”

  “My lady!” Dorotyas’s voice shook. The two prostitutes jumped and looked around. “My lady, where are you?”

  “I can see you,” Ruxandra said.

  “Really?” Curiosity filled Elizabeth’s voice. “But they cannot. Dorotyas, can you see me?”

  “No, my lady.” Dorotyas sounded panicked.

  “Interesting.” She made herself noticeable again. “Dorotyas, have my ladies pack. We leave before dawn. Ruxandra, go out the window and see where Rudolph’s troops are positioned, please. I will meet you at the front door.”

  Ruxandra frowned but went. The troops had not moved since the night before, although different men now stood at watch. As she looked them over closely, trying to see if any hint of what had happened here had been rumored, the front door swung open, and Elizabeth stepped out. This time, Ruxandra saw a slight blurring around Elizabeth’s frame.

  Ruxandra went unnoticed as well. Elizabeth smiled and took her hand. She led them both through the lines of troops to a knight at the back. Then she made herself visible.

  “You there. Order a carriage at once. I must visit the king.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  The knight wheeled around on his horse and trotted away. Ruxandra stayed unnoticed until the man returned, leading a carriage with four horses attached.

  “Very good,” Elizabeth said, climbing inside. “Do you know where Rudolph is?”

  “No, my lady.”

  “Then take us to your commander. We don’t have all night.”

  For the next two hours, they crossed the city, going from the night commander, to the lord knight, until they reached Rudolph’s chancellor. The man was more than ready to throw them out until Elizabeth commanded him. Ruxandra tried to talk to Elizabeth about where they would travel and how they would live, but Elizabeth kept shushing her, saying she had to concentrate. Ruxandra felt a growing unease, but finally turned her face to the window, enjoying the sparkle of the city at night.

  I wonder what other cities are like.

  Finally, they arrived at Lady Czobor’s house.

  Rudolph was asleep until Elizabeth used one of her talons to cut open his cheek. He shouted in pain and sat up.

  “Get up,” Elizabeth commanded. “You have work to do for me.”

  Rudolph rose from the bed. His nightshirt went only to his knees, showing off a pair of impressively hairy legs.

  “Go to your desk and retrieve writing paper.”

  The door to the bedroom flung open. Lady Czobor and three guards charged into the room.

  “What is going on?” Lady Czobor demanded. “You can’t barge in and—”

  “Sit down and shut up.” Elizabeth didn’t even turn around. “Guards, stand watch at the door.”

  The guards turned on their heels and left. Lady Czobor sat, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Now,” Elizabeth said to Rudolph. “Write as I instruct you.”

  It took an hour, including the two copies Elizabeth had him make. At the end of it, she commanded him to write a letter giving freedom of the city to Elizabeth, her knights, and her servants, as well as free passage back to Castle Csejte. In a separate document, he wrote a pledge to forever leave apart the lands owned by the Bathory family. Then, as Elizabeth and Ruxandra watched, he stamped and sealed each document.

  “Perfect.” Elizabeth pocketed one copy of each document. “File the others in the morning with the court.”

  She turned back to Lady Czobor, smiled at her and asked, “How old is your daughter?”

  Lady Czobor pressed her lips tight. Elizabeth’s head tilted to the side. Then she slapped Lady Czobor so hard it sent her sprawling onto the floor.

  “That,” Elizabeth said, “was for treating me like a dog.”

  “No less than you deserved.” Lady Czobor spat the words out with a spray of blood. “You murderous, torturing whore.”

  “As soon as Rudolph is finished with you, you will send your daughter to the city gates, and have her wait, alone, until I pick her up. From now on, she will attend my gymnaesium.”

  “Pick her up?” Ruxandra shook her head. “No. We’re leaving, remember? We’re going to Rome.”

  “We can’t leave yet,” Elizabeth said. “Not until my affairs are settled. Now, it is time to go. Rudolph?”

  Rudolph glared at her.

  “Take Lady Czobor into your bed and fuck her backside until she cannot sit without pain.” She turned back to Lady Czobor, whose face was pale with fear and anger. “You. Let him.”

  Rudolph grabbed an unresisting Lady Czobor and dragged her into the bedroom.

  “Let us go, my dear,” Elizabeth said. She made herself unnoticed and walked out the door. Ruxandra followed.

  Once outside, Elizabeth said, “I have several bits of business to settle before morning. I’ll meet you back at the whorehouse before dawn.”

  With that, she got back into the wagon, shouted instructions to the driver, and rolled off into the night.

  Ruxandra watched her go, stunned.

  I cannot go back there. I don’t want to go back there. I want to see the world.

  She said we would see the world together.

  WHAT DO I do?

  Ruxandra walked away from Lady Czobor’s house. She stayed unnoticed, the better to avoid the soldiers still patrolling the streets. Her mind was in turmoil.

  Elizabeth said she had to sort out her affairs. She has done that now. Rudolph promised to leave her lands alone. Surely that’s enough. She can leave her lands to her sons, and we can go away, like she promised.

  Surely . . .

  A feeling of dread lodged deep in Ruxandra’s belly, making it ache. She growled to herself and kept walking. It wouldn’t take long to reach the brothel. Then she could wait for Elizabeth to return.

  We will talk, and Elizabeth will come away with me, like she promised.

  She rounded a corner and saw the sky ahead lit bright yellow with fire.

  No. Oh no.

  Ruxandra ran. The crackling of flames mixed with the screams of women and the shouts of men and women trying to douse the blaze. As she got closer, the heat of the fire began to permeate the air, and by the time she reached it, it was burning her skin.

  The whorehouse was engulfed in flames.

  “Elizabeth!” Ruxandra’s scream echoed through the square. She tried to get clos
er, but the flames were too hot. “Elizabeth!”

  The screaming stopped, leaving only the sound of the fire and the people battling it.

  Ruxandra spotted the knight from the line of soldiers passing buckets. His face was red from the heat. He shouted at his men, encouraging them to keep the pace as they passed bucket after bucket toward the blazing inferno.

  Ruxandra ran to him. “Elizabeth! Have you seen Elizabeth?”

  “Not now, girl!”

  “The Countess Bathory!” Ruxandra shouted the words. “She was living here!”

  “She’s gone!” He shouted back, even as he kept passing buckets. “The lady came by with her knights with a signed letter from the king granting the entire entourage free passage of the city. They packed up and left while we watched. The place caught fire just after.”

  She wouldn’t.

  Would she?

  Elizabeth had turned the parlor into an abattoir. Anyone who entered would see it at once. The easiest way to hide it . . .

  She must have told Dorotyas to do it.

  What about the women inside?

  The wind shifted, and the smell of smoke, charred wood, and burned meat filled Ruxandra’s nose. She stumbled away, hand over her mouth.

  They were just peasants to Elizabeth.

  So is Jana.

  Ruxandra ran into the night. She reached the door of Madame Kovacs’ household and banged on it. It took time before a servant answered, and he nearly refused her admittance. Ruxandra commanded him to take her to the parlor and to wake his mistress. It took the better part of an hour before Madame Kovacs came down. She looked tired and not at all pleased.

  Her eyebrows rose when she saw Ruxandra. “You keep strange hours, young lady.”

  “I do,” Ruxandra said. “I am sorry to wake you.”

  “The girl expected you back last night. She was very disappointed.”

  “I know. Things . . . happened.”

  Madame’s head tilted, and her eyes narrowed. “Not good things, from your tone.”

  “No, Madame Kovacs.”

  “I spoke to Jana today. At length.”

  Her tone made Ruxandra wary. “Did you?”

  “Yes.” Her face was stern, her tone disapproving. “I would like to know why you are trying to pass your servant off as your sister.”