by Lucas Thorn
John didn’t understand what they were saying. Knew they were talking about him, though.
His cheeks flushed red and he endured Hailwic’s open stare.
Even when she dipped her head to lick at Peter’s torn throat one more time.
“One of your pets should hitch the wagons, Vasilja,” she said. “We shouldn’t stay here for too long. If the locals find the bodies, they’ll know what’s happened.”
“They won’t find anything. Dimiti will make sure of it. Won’t you, Dimiti?” She reached a hand to the old man, who stumbled through the mud and took it. “You’ll bury the bodies, won’t you? And then hitch the wagons?”
Jealous rage made John let out a canine growl as Vasilja wound her fingers through Dimiti’s own.
Like a lover.
“They’re my wagons,” he managed to say. “Mine. I can serve you better than he can. I’m younger, ain’t I? I’m younger, Lady. I can give you more!”
“More?” She turned the word thoughtfully across her tongue. “I know very well what you’d like to give me, John. And I have to say it doesn’t interest me even a little bit. Besides, Dimiti is much more experienced with these roads. Aren’t you, Dimiti?”
“Yes, Lady,” the old man said. Tone empty and void of emotion. “I know every inch. I’ve been travelling since I was born. My ma and pa were travellers, you see. I was bonded to the road. It’s why John hired me.”
“But he’s right about one thing, Dimiti. You are old. You even have wrinkles. I don’t really like wrinkles on a man. They remind me of what it’s like to age. And I never want to grow old. Do you know how old I am, Dimiti?”
“No, Lady.”
“I am over three hundred years. Would you believe that?”
“No!” Fierce denial made the old man’s eyes flash with emotions he’d been missing. “That can’t be! Why, you look young. And too beautiful. You can’t be that.”
She reached out and cupped his rugged face in both hands. Giggled. “You’re a precious man, Dimiti. Very precious. Now, I need you to do something for me. Will you do it?”
“Of course. You know I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“I know.” She lifted her wrist closer to his mouth. Touched a sharp nail to skin and drew a thin line of red. Ignored his gasp and pressed it closer toward his mouth. “I want you to drink a little bit of my blood. Not too much. I’ll tell you when to stop and then you must stop. Do you understand?”
John shook with anger.
Wanted to rampage across the mud and fling the old man down.
Strangle him with bare hands. Rip. Tear.
Dimiti nodded. Licked his lips and moved closer to the cut.
Paused just above. Looked at her. A puppy to its mistress.
She nodded. “Go on, Dimiti. You can do it. It’s not very hard at all. And it will make you feel so much better about everything. I promise.”
He drank.
And, from the mountains, thunder called to the heavens to witness.
But only the Devil was watching. Of this, John knew for certain. Could almost smell the rot of brimstone and sin.
“Lady…” He closed his eyes.
Couldn’t bear to see Dimiti’s lips touching her perfect skin. She wasn’t meant to be touched by folk like Dimiti. His kind were hardly better than dogs.
But John?
His family was rich.
Sure, they weren’t all rich right now. His uncle had most of the fortune.
But they’d be rich again someday. And his great-grandfather had been of noble blood. A Duke, it was said. In every way, he was a better man than Dimiti. Every way.
It should have been him standing there kissing her arm.
The growl in his throat continued.
When he opened his eyes, Dimiti was standing apart, fingers to his mouth. Eyes shining. Staring at Vasilja with utter awe.
“I’ll kill you,” John snarled between teeth. “Fucking kill you. You don’t deserve her. You’re just a fucking gypsy. You’re filth. Slime.”
But Dimiti wasn’t listening.
The old man swayed, mesmerized.
Vasilja floated toward John, turning slightly as she approached. Reached back to Dimiti and motioned at the old man. “Dimiti? Would you come here, please?”
“Yes, Lady.” Voice firmer.
Something in him had changed.
John could see it in the way the old man walked.
He’d always had the hint of a limp. And had often kept a hand to his hip. It ached more in Winter, Dimiti had told him.
But now he walked with the easy stride of a youth.
The lines across leathered cheeks looked shallow. Less defined.
And his eyes had lost the smoky haze of a man who’d seen too much. They were wider now. More open than they’d been before. Bright.
What gift had she given him? He didn’t deserve it.
Fury belted John across the gut.
“Kill you, Dimiti,” John spat. He writhed, pulling at invisible chains which kept him locked in place.
“Do you like the gift I’ve given you, Dimiti? Does it make you happy?”
“Aye, I feel young. Like I was just born all over again. I’ve had this awful pain in my shoulder this past few days. And it’s gone. My knee. It bends proper. Even my hip doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“You’ll be able to hitch the wagons on your own, now. And hopefully you can move the coffin back without breaking it this time.”
“Aye, I’ll do my best, Lady. Really, I will.” Looked to where the coffin lay open. Eager to please. “You want me to shift it up now?”
“No, Dimiti. Not yet. First I want you to help me kill John.”
John struggled to get loose. Suddenly frantic. His eyes captured hers and he almost howled. “But, Lady! I’m better than he is. And they’re my wagons. Mine! I paid for them. You can’t take them. You can’t do this to me, Lady. Please, I beg you. I can serve you better than he can. Serve you better than anyone. And I want to. I want to serve you. Can’t you see?”
“Dimiti? He’s talking an awful lot.”
“Aye, Lady. He always was one for talk.”
“You have a knife, don’t you?”
The old man nodded. “Aye.”
“Is it sharp? Do you keep it sharp?”
“Aye. It’s sharp alright. A knife is no good to a man if it’s got a dull edge.”
“Then I want you to use it. I want you to cut out John’s tongue.”
Dimiti whipped the knife free of its sheath on his hip. Looked from the steel to the terrified eyes of his friend. Hesitated. “Like, all the way out, or just a little?”
Vasilja floated up behind Dimiti and wrapped her arms around his chest. Pressed her cheek against the back of his shoulder and purred. “You know, Dimiti. I always said if you are going to do a job, you ought to do it properly. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Lady.”
Dimiti’s gnarled old hands grabbed hold of John’s jaw. Firm.
No hesitation at all.
“No,” John croaked. Tried to shake his head loose. Couldn’t. “Dimiti. Please don’t do this.”
“Best you stay still, John. It’ll be a lot easier on you if you stay still.”
He opened his mouth to scream, but Vasilja reached out across Dimiti and touched a fingertip to his lips. The frozen touch stole his breath and left him silent. “I thought you said you wanted to please me, John. That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Did you lie to me?”
“No! I’d never lie to you, Lady.”
“Then, please me. Let Dimiti remove your tongue.”
John felt the rush of horror slide through his body like a gelatinous ghost.
Shudders shook his spine.
As with terror shrieking inside his skull, he opened his mouth.
Stuck out his tongue.
And did little more than sob as Dimiti sawed it free.
Blood gushed across the old man’s hands.
Vasilja’s eyes narrowed i
nto tight little slits as she moved around the old man’s working arms. Her hands pressed lightly against John’s bare chest. Sliding through rough patches of hair and rivers of blood now pouring down from his mouth.
She started at his belly and worked her way up, tongue scooping his blood and swirling it between her teeth.
Swallow.
Until she came to his chin.
His mouth.
Which she kissed, melting his fear into a lassitude of acceptance and relief.
A kiss he’d waited so long to receive.
She withdrew a little, eyes burning like coal embers. Her tongue wiped her lips.
Clean.
Pure.
She sucked a small breath.
“You see, John? It’s so much better for you if you please me.”
He nodded.
Couldn’t say anything.
His mouth was on fire. Agony kept his jaw hanging loose.
She was killing him. He knew that. And he’d never been more satisfied than when her mouth reached for his neck.
And then never more horrified as her fangs bit deep.
The scream was that of an animal.
Guttural and wet.
It didn’t last long.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sound of shovel biting wet dirt.
Scrape.
Whoosh.
Thud as another load spattered on the heap.
The hole was getting bigger.
Vasilja aimed a proud smile to where the old man worked.
“I want to bite him,” Senka said.
Scowling. Perched on top of her wagon like a gargoyle. White dress trailing past muddy feet. The fine top hat on her head.
“You want to bite everyone.”
“So?” Senka looked confused. “Don’t you?”
“Well, yes. But I don’t go around telling everyone. That sort of thing makes people feel uncomfortable, Senka. And when they’re uncomfortable, it’s harder to control them in the beginning.”
“Is that why I can’t make them do what I want?”
“You shouldn’t worry. Your power will come to you in time. We’re all different.”
“It’s been years.” Looked down at her bloodstained nails. “I tried to control George. But he wouldn’t let me.”
“He was afraid of you. It doesn’t work when they’re too afraid of you. It’s about how you approach them. Think of them like this ox of yours. You wouldn’t run up to it and scream in its ear if you wanted it to do what it’s told, would you?”
“I might.”
“Well, I suppose you would. But, you do know what I mean?”
“I think so.” Sigh. “I’ll never get it right.”
“You’ve forgotten what it means to be a woman, Senka. That’s all.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Hailwic said. She sat on the edge of her coffin, legs dangling. Looking to the mountains. “It’s good to embrace what we’ve become. Then we never think of looking back. Of trying to return to what we were.”
“Oh, don’t be so depressing, Hailwic. It’s horrible when you get like that. Can’t you be a little enthusiastic? We’re on the road. Vienna isn’t very far away. Dimiti said he could get us there very quickly. We might even be there by end of the week.”
Hailwic turned her gaze to Vasilja.
Looked like she was about to say something spiteful.
But shook her head as she changed her mind. Let out a small sigh instead. “I’m sorry, Vasilja. Whenever we’re out like this, I also can’t help but to remember my life from before. Before he found me. I guess I want to push it back inside.”
“You remember when you were a bandit?” Senka flew into the air, thrilled with excitement. It was rare for Hailwic to open up about her past. “What was it like? Did you kill lots of people?”
“I suppose we did.” Hailwic held out her arm and made a fist around an invisible sword. “We weren’t proper bandits, though. More a band of mercenaries. We’d fight for coin. And it didn’t matter to us who was paying. I remember once fighting for a duke who was in line for the throne. The king had just died, so the duke was looking to put himself on the throne. He hired us to fight with him against his biggest rival. We fought. A battle which still makes me proud. My fighters fought like demons. The rival put down his weapons. Swore fealty. And everyone went to crown the duke. Along the way, we were told we wouldn’t be needed anymore. And then his rival offered us gold to kill the duke in his tent.”
“Really?” Senka hovered in front of Hailwic. Eyes wide like a child listening to stories. “Did you do it? Did you kill him? The duke? In his tent?”
“Of course.” Shrug. “We were paid to. The new king was more generous.”
“That’s amazing, Hailwic. I can’t believe you did those things. I wish I’d had adventures like that. Even just once.”
“I bet that felt very free, Hailwic,” Vasilja said. She hovered between the wagons, dress swaying in the wind. “Don’t you think it’s nice to be free?”
“Of course it is. And don’t think you can play with me like I’m one of these boys. My mind isn’t something you can manipulate.”
“What a thing to say, Hailwic. I never thought it was.”
“I know you don’t want to find Dracula straight away. I know very well you’re trying to traipse us around Europe first.” Sigh. “And I won’t stop you just yet. Have your fun, Vasilja. Enjoy it while you can. But remember what we are. And why we’re bound to him.”
“I always remember.
“Our strength is in our bond,” Hailwic said. “You’d do well to remember that. I don’t deny I miss my old life sometimes. I miss the fighting most of all. But you should always remember Elizabeth. How mad she was? That’s what happens when we leave. When we try to break the bond. When we turn from the Bargain. We are stronger together. Apart, we are weak. It is harder to feed. Harder to build the funds to keep our lairs. Harder to travel.”
“The world is changing, though. There are steamships, which travel faster than the ships we knew. And I keep telling you about trains, remember? You can go a great distance on trains. And very fast, too. All this walking in the mud and spending weeks on the back of wagons is a waste of time. If you’d listened to me, we could have been in Munich by now. Maybe we could even be ahead of him already. You know he’d never take a train.”
“Their inventions will always be clever. There are dangers to any way we travel. Tonight is proof of this. Imagine if we were on a train with hundreds of people? We need to be careful, Vasilja. And vigilant at all times.”
“I do realise that. I’m not a complete idiot.”
“No.” Smile now. “Just a bit of one, sometimes.”
Senka looked from one to the other. “Why are you fighting?”
“We’re not fighting, Senka,” Vasilja said. “We’re just disagreeing on a few small things while agreeing on the big things. It’s more a conversation over which road to travel. I wish to take the long one so I can see the view. But Hailwic is a soldier, so she wants the one which will get her there first. She wants to scout the land. Map it out. Write a report. All those tiresome things.”
“I can scout,” Senka said. Rose higher in the air. “I can see all sorts of things from up near the clouds. Farms. Houses. Towns. And I think there’s even a city across the hills. I’m not sure. It’s very fair away. But it’s bright on the horizon and it’s not the sun.”
“That’s Vienna,” Hailwic said.
“Really? But I can see it from here. We must be closer than I thought.” She drifted down again. “What’s it like?”
“It’s very clean,” Vasilja said. “Most of the time. The roads are paved and they’re strict with horses. There are large apartment buildings. Like nothing you’ve ever seen. And an opera. You can listen to violinists play almost every night. And there are cafes, too. Places where people gather and talk. Mostly they talk about nonsense. Poetry is very popular. And art. But I prefer the new sciences. Engin
eering. Physics. I hope this time to hear more of that and a lot less of their vapid philosophy.”
Senka screwed her face up. “I don’t like philosophy either. It’s boring.”
“But you like the people.”
“Only when I’m biting them.”
“Honestly,” Vasilja threw her arms up and let out a heavy sigh. “You should both have stayed home. Can’t you at least pretend you want to see how much the world has changed? Can’t you at least try to think about how wonderful a city can be? There’s more to life than moping around a silly old castle, or biting mindless little boys. You, Senka. You should be even more happy. Since you came to us, you’ve never been able to travel to cities like this. Aren’t you excited?”
“Of course I am!”
“Then stop complaining! Bother of you are very bothersome sometimes. I go to a lot of effort, you know. I try hard to make you both happy, don’t I? I try to find the perfect people to bite so you all get something enjoyable out of it. I want you to have a wonderful time. I can’t bear the idea of spending the rest of eternity sitting in a chair in that damp old castle.” Exasperation made her whirl, arms wide. “It drives me mad, Hailwic! Dracula gets to travel all the time. We should be able to travel, too! How else can we fulfil the Bargain?”
“I never said we shouldn’t.”
“But you make it sound like we should only travel when he wants us to. Or travel at his side like a set of pretty little ornaments. We’re not ornaments. You were a fighter, once. Your name was feared. Now? Now, it’s forgotten. No one remembers Hailwic.” Fierce lights burned in the back of her eyes. “But they should. They should be terrified!”
“Dracula made the Bargain,” Hailwic said. “And that binds us, too.”
“I honour it better than he ever did,” Vasilja hissed. “Senka has just honoured it in ways he hasn’t done for more than fifty years. When was the last time he fed with us? He feeds alone now. Always alone.”
Hailwic looked away. “He has his own ways.”
“Then we should have ours.” She held her hand out, stretching toward the other vampire. “Hailwic, please. I want you to see the world which is changing right in front of our eyes. If we don’t change with it, how can we achieve what we need to? We risk becoming useless. And what would happen then? The Devil never looks kindly on failure.”
