by Lucas Thorn
“It would be a serious breach of etiquette…”
Vasilja’s smile washed through him like a ray of moonlight.
“Pierre,” she crooned. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“Freddy,” he sighed. “Frederic Bricaud. His is a powerful voice I’m sure Count Dracula would wish to ally more closely to in these troubled times. He is a brilliant man. A man of clear purpose and a true desire to unite all men regardless of rank, or belief. Someone to be admired greatly, I think.”
“Of course.” Vasilja placed a hand on his desk. “And would you be willing to write a letter of introduction for us, Mister Magnin?”
As they left the banker’s house, Senka gave her shoulders a shake to clear the pain of having sat for so long in the uncomfortable chair.
“I never thought I would see anyone I truly didn’t want to bite,” Senka said. “But there he is.”
“He’s a wretched creature,” Vasilja agreed. “But that’s bankers for you. Their souls are firmly in our master’s grip and so they go through their daily lives with no real passion.”
“Why didn’t you just ask him if he knew the Luciferians? Why do we have to find this Mister Bricaud?”
“Because I couldn’t control that lizard enough. I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t tell anyone when we were finished. I didn’t want him running off to the local authorities the minute we left his house.”
“Would he really?”
“It’s hard to tell. At the very least, he’d use the information to get some control over our finances. And we can’t have that.”
“Mister Bricaud will know, though? Because he’s a Freemason?”
“I think so. You see, Senka, secret societies are simply places rich people use to find others who think in the same way they do. Freemasonry is very popular in Europe. It has been since the Revolution. Lately, the Lodge here in France has begun acting peculiar.”
“How?”
“I read some of Dracula’s letters to Mister Magnin. The Lodge started admitting atheists.”
“Atheists?”
“Yes. Dracula naturally thought that was a good idea. Reducing the influence of Christians inside political circles would help us an awful lot. But it hasn’t been very popular, as you can imagine. He might be a few decades too soon.”
“You think they’re also accepting Luciferians.”
“I think some of them were already Luciferians, Senka. Why else would anyone want to let atheists into their Lodge? Their conversation is very limited as they’re not very philosophical, you know. They tend to run out of ideas fairly quickly after mathematics. All the same, they dislike Christians as much as we do. The enemy of our enemy is our friend, or so it’s said.”
“Then, let’s go bite Mister Bricaud.”
“Not straight away, Senka. We’ll need him to tell us where the Luciferians are, first.”
When safe, the vampires lifted into the air and slid through the night sky. Senka’s eyes picked through the dark below like an owl’s, picking out those who walked alone down shadow-drenched alleys. Or who shivered under makeshift shelters.
Lost.
Feeble.
Unwanted.
These were easy prey. Safe to bite, as the city cared nothing for them.
Vasilja paused above the townhouse belonging to Bricaud.
Frowned.
Senka followed her gaze, seeing nothing. “What is it?”
“Do you know, Senka, but I believe Mister Magnin forgot to tell us something rather important.”
“What?”
“It appears Mister Bricaud is not just any normal man.” Her lips spread into a crooked grin. “He’s a priest.”
“A real one?”
“Yes, he seems to be. His house has the smell of holiness around it.”
Senka clapped her hands. “That’s perfect!” She reached into her coat. “I brought the mace Hailwic gave me. She said it’s very good against priests. I could try it out. Let me try it out, Vasilja. I want to bite a priest!”
“So do I.” She ran her tongue across her lips. “But we need to be careful, Senka. Very careful.”
“I can be careful. I promise.”
“Some priests have divine relics. Their crucifix might be blessed by the Pope, which makes it burn even hotter. If they’re especially faithful, their prayers can hurt your ears. It’s very unsettling when that happens, I can tell you. Dracula told me he knew one priest who could kill vampires just by touching them with his hand.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“We should be prudent. We should go back to Mister Magnin. Have him find us someone else. It’s what Hailwic would want us to do.” Vasilja hovered, turning lightly in the breeze. “But I’m not Hailwic. I must bite him, Senka. I must! He’s right there, isn’t he? And he’s not inside a church. We must have him.”
“We must!”
Vasilja let out a small kittenish moan. Then dropped suddenly toward the shadows down the side of the house. “Quickly! Before Hailwic’s ghost tells me I’m being stupid and I start listening to her.”
“Wait for me!”
They knocked on the door, Vasilja motioning Senka to stand behind her shoulder. “Try to look bored, Senka. Like we’re going to a recital. I don’t want you to scare him off. And don’t smile. Your fangs are showing.”
“I’m just excited, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t be. This is actually very dangerous.”
The door opened. “Yes? What is it? It’s very late, you know.”
“Why, yes, Mister Bricaud. We were sent here on a matter of great importance by Mister Pierre Magnin. Are you familiar with Pierre at all?” The vampire oozed her power through the door, pushing with all her strength through the veil which clouded her own awareness.
Frederic hissed inwardly. “What is it? Have they rebelled at last? Has the Lodge finally split?”
Vasilja kept her face expressionless. “I do think we should discuss this a little more privately, Mister Bricaud. Perhaps you might allow us the courtesy of entering your home?”
“Of course!” He threw the door open and waved them inside. “Please. Come inside. Come inside, ladies. I’ll put a log on the fire. You must be cold.”
“Close the door quickly,” Vasilja whispered. “There may be spies about.”
“Spies?” He shoved his face outside and looked around, paying close attention to the bushes by his window.
“Is he alright?” Senka asked softly. “He looks a bit strange.”
“Hush, Senka.” She stifled a giggled. “He’s not a real priest after all. He’s a Calvinist.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t see anyone,” he said. “But a curtain moved across the road. That’s Joachim. He’s in league with the Devil. I know it. He watches me. But I watch him, too. I’ve seen the depravities he engages in. But that’s not for polite conversation. Please, ladies. This way. I say, are you wearing a gentleman’s coat?”
“We came in a rush,” Vasilja said quickly. “And Mister Magnin thought it best to disguise us. You see? You didn’t know she was a proper lady until she was close.”
“Very smart thinking,” he nodded. Pushed his eyebrows together seriously. The wart on his cheek wobbled above his well-trimmed beard. “Very sensible. Always a planner, is Pierre. Always one step ahead.”
“Yes, of course he is.”
“Here. Take a seat. Would you like some tea?”
“No, Frederic. Or may we call you Freddy? Pierre said we might. We don’t drink tea, you see.”
“Don’t you? Well, I have some brandy. Mineral water? It’s supposed to be good for you.”
“No. We’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“Of course.” He held up a fist. “The fight.”
“Yes. The fight.”
He bent down and tossed a small log onto the fire. It hissed sparks before reluctantly flaring into life.
“I don’t know how much longer we can hold things together,” he said. “The Lo
dge is breaking apart. It will have to split. Everyone knows this. But who will keep the majority, eh? That’s the real question. Keeping the majority. I think we were doing the right thing by bringing in the atheists. And I’m sure you agree it’s proper to allow women entry, too. It isn’t right to exclude women. It just isn’t.”
“You’re a good man,” Vasilja purred. She glided across to him, reaching out with her hand.
He flinched.
Cold sharp fingers caressed his cheek, sliding down past the wart and across the rough foliage of his beard.
He smiled back awkwardly, eyes following her tongue as it wet her upper lip.
“Well,” he said. Nervous. “I don’t believe I am. Like all men, I am corrupted. Wicked. My mind is filled with dreadful ideas. Simply dreadful. Sometimes, I lie awake and find myself calmed by thoughts of utter depravity. Depravity beyond that which Joachim has been practicing. Beyond that which some members of the Lodge have admitted to me. Even the atheists. I fear I am lost, Lady. Destined to find not an ounce of salvation in His Grace. I- Why am I telling you this?”
“You are among friends, dearest Freddy,” she said. Moved behind him, arms sliding between his. Hands pressing against his chest. “You can tell us anything. Can’t you? You feel comfortable with us. We’re here for you. Just for you. You like that, don’t you? Being alone with us?”
“Oh, yes.”
His eyes skipped to Senka, who stared back at him without expression.
Waiting.
Vasilja whispered into his ear; “Mister Magnin said you know a lot of people in the Lodge.”
“I do! Well, I have to, don’t I? To hold everything together, you see. It’s important to speak with them all. Listen to their complaints, mostly. Try to keep them all steady.”
“Do they tell you their secrets? Do you tell them yours?”
“Sometimes.” He chewed his bottom lip. Sweat beaded against his forehead.
“And would they tell you if they were, say, engaging in very sinful behaviour?”
“Some of them might,” he admitted.
She turned him around, her arms sliding up beside his neck. She rested her head against his shoulder. Smiled. “Tell me. Tell me who is kneeling to Lucifer.”
“All of them. Everyone is sinful.”
“I mean, which has actually told you they are. Which claims the mantle of Luciferian?”
“Oh, well. That’s very privileged. They would not have told me under normal circumstances. I’m a priest.”
“A Calvinist.”
“Yes, but that hardly makes a difference.”
“Of course not.” She breathed into his ear. “Tell me, Freddy. Give me a name. Give me a name and I’ll tell you all about my sins. My sister, too. She has so many sins. More than you can count. I promise you, our depravity will devour you.”
He shivered in her touch.
Closed his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know any for certain.” He trembled. “Joachim says he is, but I doubt him. He’s always looking for attention. Many say they are, you see, but they don’t practice it. Not truly. I’ve only ever known one who would dare consider practicing it for real.”
“Oh?” She pulled him close, pressing herself against his back. Winding her leg against his thigh. “Who?”
“Well. Me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“You?” Vasilja’s eyes widened. “Really, Freddy? Say it properly. Did you just tell me you’re a Luciferian?”
“I’m a Luciferian, Lady.” He staggered away from her, clutching his head. “I feel very dizzy all of a sudden. My head is spinning. Please forgive me.”
“Not at all. It must be very overwhelming. Senka, let Freddy have your chair.”
“No, no. It’s alright. I can stand.”
“We insist, don’t we Senka?”
The younger vampire stood and stepped aside. “Absolutely.”
“Come, Freddy. Take your couch by the fire here. It’ll help warm your blood to a delightful temperature.” Vasilja patted his shoulder. “I do think people should keep themselves warm. It’s very considerate to those of us who pay attention to these things.”
He put his head in his hands and gave himself a shake. “I feel much better. Thank you.”
“Don’t think about it too much.” She pushed at him again, stepping behind the small couch and putting her hands on both sides of his head. Pressing fingertips to his temples. “Think about more pleasant things, Freddy. Things which have given you so much pleasure over the years. Your Luciferian practices. Are they exciting?”
Senka flinched as the smile darted across the man’s face.
Smile of a wolverine.
His lips pulled back tight. Glint of the small edges of his teeth. Eyes fierce and bright with sudden animal lusts. He made a wet chuckle in the back of his throat. “Oh, yes. Yes, they’re very exciting. It’s sinful, Lady. Sinful beyond compare.”
“And you revel in it, don’t you?”
“I do.” The smile vanished. “I don’t want to. But I came to the conclusion that I’m not one of the saved. My soul is damned by the corruption of my depravities. I refused, at first. Refused to believe I could feel such things. Refused to think I could even participate. But, when I started, it all seemed so natural. I began to believe that some of us can never change. Our sin is too great.”
Senka’s mouth was dry as she watched the man talk.
His face flitted from emotion to emotion.
Lustful. Angry. Sad.
Reeling in a circle of peaks and troughs, eyes rolling in their sockets.
Stopping only when they found her.
Then they’d slide. Slowly. Up and down. Drinking her in.
She let him drink.
“We want to join you, Freddy.” Vasilja leaned over him. Pressed her cheek against his. A little smile with her delicate red lips. “We want to be Luciferians, too. We want to worship Him. The Master of Hell. We want to gorge on his delights. To dance in the fruit of his absolute devotion to the pleasures of flesh. Flesh, Freddy. Do you like that word? It conjures the most incredible feeling, doesn’t it? Flesh. You like the pleasures of flesh, don’t you?”
Her hands dived between waistcoat and shirt, drawing a moan from the old man.
He tried to lift his hand to hers, but couldn’t bear it.
His hand remained halfway there, trembling. “I want to.”
“I know you do. And you can. But I need something, first. To join, we need to know more about it, don’t we? We need to know all about what you do.”
“We’ve done it all,” he said. Dry mouth. “Everything. Bestial and profane. There is almost nothing we do not do.”
“Really? And where do you get your ideas? From books?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any of those books? Here? In this house?”
“I do.”
“We’re looking for a special book.” She looked up and nodded to Senka, who took the book from her coat and showed it to him. “We’re looking for one just like this.”
His eyes slid away. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, you do.” She purred heavily. Voice husky like smoke. “This thrills me, Freddy. Thrills right to the deepest part of me. Do you know what I’m talking about? I need this book, Freddy. I truly need it. If you can tell me where to find it, I would show you sins you cannot believe.”
“Yes.” He cowered back in his chair, eyes rolling as he tried to see her. She skirted out of his view, though. A tantalizing promise. Leaving a trail of cold as her fingertips swept across his beard. Brushed the corner of his mouth. Cheek. “Please, Lady. Show me, I beg you.”
“The book first, Freddy.”
“I…”
“Where is it?” Soft. Fragile. Hurt. “Please tell me.”
“It’s blasphemous. More than any other I’ve ever read. I’m not sure…”
“You’re not a priest of God, Freddy. You’re a priest of Satan. Revel, Freddy. Revel in your freedom!”<
br />
“There!” He thrust a hand toward a small locked chest. “It’s in there! I have the key on a chain around my neck.”
“Show me.”
He pulled the chain. A silver link. The key plopped loose of his shirt, followed by a small simple crucifix.
“Ah,” Vasilja said, moving back. “How about you throw that little cross away, Freddy. You shan’t be needing it. And then open the chest. Show us the book.”
“Of course.” Hoarse. He dabbed at the sweat on his brow. Snapped the chain with a jerk and threw the crucifix into the fire. It made no sound as he shuffled toward the chest.
Senka watched closely. Whispered; “I don’t understand, Vasilja. How is he a Luciferian. I thought he was a priest?”
“Humans are always confused. Priests more so than most. Hush now, Senka. Please. This can be difficult.”
“This is it,” Frederic said, turning slowly. His hands held the book like it was treasure. Dark emerald binding. Silver pentagram on the front. “It’s said the Devil himself penned it. That it was inked with the essence of damned souls. The rituals in here, are unspeakable. Even those who owned it before me wouldn’t dare try them. And Luciferians in this city? Oh, they sing and they dance. They whore and they revel. Men. Women. Even children. They sacrifice a goat or a lamb. But this holds darker rites. You can feel its power, can’t you?”
“Senka, would you check if it’s the same as ours?” She smiled as Frederic reluctantly handed the book to the younger vampire. “Freddy. Would you mind sitting in the couch again? I like when you’re there. I can keep an eye on you.”
“Yes, Lady.”
Senka flipped through the pages.
“Well, Senka?”
“I’m not sure.” She placed both books side by side. Then slowly began turning the pages. Some were the same. Others were different.
But each was a perfect half of a whole.
She could feel it.
“Senka?” Vasilja gripped Frederic’s hair harder as impatience and anticipation fought their battle.
