by Darren Shan
When they found out where Alicia was living, they made camp that evening on the roof opposite her building. Larten hadn’t said much since they came to Paris. He trembled as they waited, excited and nervous at the thought of seeing his old love again.
Larten stiffened each time the door to the building opened, but it was never Alicia. As the sun rose the next morning, they covered themselves with a sheet of dark felt – Wester had thought ahead – and put on sunglasses to protect their sensitive eyes. Wester never suggested that they leave and return when it was dark. He knew Larten wouldn’t retreat until he’d seen Alicia. If that meant a week-long, uncomfortable wait, so be it. Wester would have endured a lot worse than that to assist his blood-brother.
Finally, early in the afternoon, the door opened and this time Larten gave a soft moan. Wester raised his sunglasses and squinted. The woman had long, light red hair, a good figure and a beautiful face. She was dressed fashionably and smiled as she strolled down the street, nodding to her neighbours. There was a young girl with her, no more than three years old. She tottered along on short, chubby legs and the woman held her hand and walked slowly, encouraging her.
Wester sneaked a look at Larten. He wasn’t crying, but his lips were a thin line and he was shaking softly. The regret in Larten’s eyes made Wester look away. He didn’t say anything until half an hour later, when the woman and girl returned and went back inside the building, the girl clutching a small bag of sticky sweets.
“She looks happy,” Wester said, hoping that was what Larten wished to hear.
“Aye,” Larten sighed, but he wasn’t so sure. He knew Alicia intimately and had noted a shadow in her expression.
“Do you think the girl is hers?” Wester asked.
“I am sure of it. She has her mother’s face.”
Wester waited. When Larten gave no sign that he was thinking about moving, Wester cleared his throat. “Have you seen enough?”
“Go if you want to,” Larten snapped.
“I’m in no hurry. I’ll stay as long as you like. But I thought all you wanted was to make sure that she was all right. You’ve seen that she is, so why linger?”
“Gavner,” Larten muttered. “I want to see him too.”
“The boy?” Wester frowned. “What age is he now?”
Larten considered that. He had been thinking of Gavner as he’d last seen him, but of course the child would have grown. “He must be a young man,” Larten said wonderingly.
“Then he probably isn’t living with them,” Wester said.
“He might be,” Larten disagreed. “Humans do not marry and move out of their homes as early as they once did.”
Wester hesitated. Larten wouldn’t want to hear this, but it wasn’t the way of vampires to hide from the truth. “If he’s an adult,” Wester said slowly, “and he has grown up here, don’t you think he’ll have gone to fight in the trenches with all of the others his age?”
Larten’s breath caught in his throat. He should have thought of that before, but it hadn’t crossed his mind. He had been focused on Alicia. He only now gave any real thought to Gavner. The orphan had been a healthy child and Larten was sure he’d grown into a fit, able man. But many of the continent’s finest young men had already perished on the fields of blood not too far from here. Was that why Alicia looked sad even when she was smiling?
“I have to find out,” Larten said. “I cannot leave until I know.”
“Very well,” Wester said. “But we won’t learn anything up here. Let’s find somewhere to shelter from the sun. At dusk I’ll visit more shops and enquire about the boy. I’m sure someone will be able to tell us what became of him.”
But as Wester trailed from store to store that evening, he found that wasn’t the case. Alicia had moved into her new home shortly before her daughter was born, and it had only been her and her husband. Nobody knew of any son. As far as the locals were aware, little Sylva was Alicia’s only child.
Larten was frustrated and angry. He had never let himself get close to the boy, keeping Gavner at arm’s length because he didn’t feel entitled to any love from the child he had orphaned. But he felt more for Gavner than he would ever openly acknowledge or even admit to himself. He needed to know what had happened to the youth, especially as he saw this as a chance to play the part of a protective guardian. Gavner might have been taken prisoner. Maybe Larten could rescue him and lead him to safety the way he’d led the soldiers in no-man’s-land. Or he might be lying ill in hospital, waiting for medicine no human could provide in such a savage time, but which a vampire could locate. If Larten left now and later learnt that he could have been of assistance…
Wester was one step ahead of his friend, as he often was, so the guard wasn’t surprised when the General sighed and said that he couldn’t leave. There was only one way to find out what had happened to Gavner, and Wester couldn’t help him this time. Larten would have to face Alicia and question her himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Larten approached the building boldly, as if he was one of the tenants. There weren’t many people on the street at that time of night and those who saw him didn’t spare him a second glance. He paused at the front door and made quick work of the lock, employing the skills he’d learnt from a stage magician called Merletta many decades before. Once inside it was a simple case of following his nose — every person had a unique scent and even after so long apart he could have picked out Alicia’s from a crowd of thousands.
He stood for a long time outside her door, afraid to knock. He had no idea how she might react. Would she scream, faint, attack him? Larten had faced many dangers in his life, but he’d seldom felt as nervous as he did that night.
Finally, knowing he’d never find the courage to face her if he didn’t act now, he knocked three times and waited, removing his cap and scarf as he was standing there. It took Alicia a while to answer – it was late and she had been preparing for bed – but eventually she opened the door a crack and peered at him suspiciously. “Can I help you, monsieur?”
Larten realised that the corridor was darker than he’d thought. She couldn’t see him properly. He took a step back so that the weak light illuminated his face.
Alicia drew a startled breath and the door creaked open another crack. She stared at him, eyes wide, wondering if she was dreaming. Larten said nothing, only let her study him. “It’s really you?” she whispered.
“Aye,” he said softly.
Alicia shivered when she heard his voice, then sighed and opened the door all of the way. “I suppose you’d better come in then.”
Larten looked around the room curiously when he entered. It wasn’t as nicely decorated as their old apartment and there were far fewer ornaments. Some laundry was drying on a string by a window, something Alicia would never have allowed when he was living with her.
“Times change,” she said, noting his surprise. “The war made light work of many a fortune. I’m no longer a woman of substance, though I still have more than many, plenty to get by on so long as things don’t get any worse.” She gestured to a chair and they sat opposite one another. Larten wasn’t sure what to say, but luckily for him Alicia took the lead. “You look the same.”
“We age slowly,” Larten said. “One year for every ten that pass.”
“You’re talking about vampires?” she said softly and he nodded. “Then you’re not ageless? According to the stories you live forever.”
“As I tried to tell you when last we spoke, most of the stories are lies or distortions of the truth. We can live for hundreds of years, but we are mortal.” He blushed. “You look the same too, as beautiful as ever.”
Alicia winced and brushed back her hair with a hand. “That’s sweet but untrue. This war has aged all of us. Sometimes I feel like a woman of sixty.”
“No,” Larten said firmly. “I would not say it if I did not mean it.”
Alicia smiled at him, then shook her head miserably. Tears seeped from her eyes, almost bre
aking Larten’s heart. “I’ve missed you, Vur,” she moaned and then she was hugging him hard, pressing herself against him as if afraid he was going to vanish on the cool night air.
It was long after midnight. The pair were still seated in the small living room, but on the same couch now, Alicia holding one of Larten’s hands. They were sipping coffee – their third cup – and discussing their lives. Alicia had often thought of Larten and wondered about him. She regretted dismissing him before he’d had a chance to explain properly. She wished she hadn’t acted so hastily.
Larten told her about life in the clan, the rules they followed, the way they fed, the laws they lived by. He was sorry he hadn’t been honest with her when they first met. He thought she might have loved him regardless of his vampiric blood if he’d been true with her. Alicia hadn’t banished him because he was a vampire, but because he’d lied.
She was worried when he told her about becoming a General. “Does that mean there’s a vampire army?” she wanted to know.
“We are gendarmes more than anything else,” he said. “We exist to keep the members of the clan in order, not to wage war with any other.”
When Alicia’s thirst for knowledge about vampires had been sated, she told her story. The months after he’d left had been hard. People were gossiping about Vur Horston and she felt it was better to play along with the rumours rather than deny them. She put on a brave front and told her friends she’d dismissed him as soon as she realised he was one of the living dead.
“I told them you hadn’t killed those women, but said I had to get rid of you anyway — with a neck as long as mine, how could I sleep safely with a vampire?”
She continued to joke about it, and over time interest in the mysterious Vur Horston faded. Since Tanish had also left, she had no further contact with any of the people who’d been involved with Larten. She moved to a new apartment and did her best to forget about her lost fiancé.
“I met Jean some years later and we married after a short courtship. He was a kind man, no dark secrets. I didn’t love him the same way I’d loved you, but I was happy. When we had Sylva, I was even happier.”
“Is he involved in the war?” Larten asked when Alicia stalled.
“He was.” She released Larten’s hand and sighed. “Come and see Sylva.”
She took Larten into a warm, brightly coloured bedroom. Alicia’s daughter was lying in a cot by the window. She was on her back and her left leg was cocked into the air. She was snoring lightly.
“Jean was a snorer,” Alicia smiled. “All of the men in my life snored loudly — you, Jean…” She didn’t mention Gavner. Larten noted the oversight – she’d hardly spoken of the boy at all – but he sensed that she had something else to tell him before talk turned to the orphan whom she’d adopted.
Alicia bent down Sylva’s leg, then covered her with a soft blanket. “Jean was killed in battle almost a year ago,” she whispered. If Larten hadn’t been a vampire, he would have had to ask her to repeat it.
“None of your neighbours mentioned that,” he murmured.
“They don’t know.” Alicia’s eyes were brimming with tears. “So many women have lost husbands. I sometimes feel this is a city of widows. I don’t want people staring at me sympathetically, rubbing Sylva’s head and sighing, reminding her that her father is dead. She didn’t know him well – she was little more than a baby when he died – and I’d rather spare her the news of his death until she’s old enough to understand and deal with it.”
“It must be hard bringing her up by yourself,” Larten said softly.
“Yes,” Alicia said. “But I manage. When this terrible war ends, I’ll tell people Jean is dead and make a new life elsewhere, as I did when I lost my first true love. For the time being it’s easier to pretend that all is well.”
Larten smiled. “You would have made a good vampire.”
She frowned. “Is that a compliment?”
“The highest I could pay.” His smile faded — he couldn’t hold back the question any longer. “And what of Gavner? What has become of your son?”
“Our son,” she corrected him. When he scowled, she saw that time hadn’t changed him in that regard. Sighing, she glanced one last time at the snoring Sylva, then led Larten back to the living room. This part of the story would enrage him and she didn’t want him waking her daughter if he started to shout and curse.
“Gavner was distraught when you left.” They were sitting on the couch and Alicia was holding his hand again. “I tried to explain, but how do you tell a boy that the man who raised him was a vampire? He missed Tanish as well, and was hurt by his abrupt disappearance. You were always rough with Gavner, but that was the first time that Tanish had let him down.”
“You should have told him Monsieur Eul was a murderer,” Larten growled, his hatred for Tanish flaring again.
“I wish I had,” Alicia said bitterly, surprising the vampire. “All was well for a time. Gavner dealt with his loss and excelled at school. He was never as close to me after that – I think he blamed me for the way you and Tanish abandoned him – but he still loved me. Then…”
Her voice cracked and Larten prepared himself for the worst. But when she went on, she didn’t tell him that Gavner was dead. Her story was much darker than that.
“Tanish returned.” Her features twisted. “He tried to woo me. He said he had always loved me, but hadn’t dared court me while I was engaged to you. I told him I knew he was a killer, but he laughed that off and said I’d been misinformed. I wasn’t fooled. I said I never wanted to see him again. I vowed to reveal his true identity if he stayed, and told him I’d left an incriminating document with a lawyer, to be opened in the event of my death.”
“Was that a bluff?” Larten asked.
“No. I wrote a long letter, naming both of you and all that I knew about you, not long after you fled. I had a feeling I wasn’t finished with the vampire partners.” She smiled. “But I will go to my lawyer tomorrow and have your name removed.”
“There is no need,” Larten said. “I have little to do with humans. I doubt they can track me down to Vampire Mountain.”
They both chuckled, then Alicia’s face darkened again. “Gavner withdrew from me entirely. He came home late from school every evening, sometimes not until night. I suspected Tanish — he appeared to have left Paris, but I thought he was still here. I sent detectives to find him, but without success. They couldn’t keep track of Gavner either — he always managed to lose them, usually in a dark alley or tunnel.
“Then, one night, he never returned.” She wiped tears from her cheeks and stared miserably at the wall. “That was the last I saw of him, and there has been no word since. Maybe it was nothing to do with Tanish. Perhaps he made other friends and ran away with one of them or died in a fight.”
“But you do not think so,” Larten said.
“No.” She looked at him again. “I think that Tanish convinced him to become a vampire. I think he’s one of your kind now. Except he doesn’t have an honest, law-abiding master like you did. If I’m right, he’s an assistant to a killer.” Her hand tightened on Larten’s and her eyes burnt fiercely. “I asked you once not to harm Tanish Eul. Do you remember?”
“Aye,” Larten said darkly.
Alicia squeezed even tighter. “I take that back. Find him, Vur. Kill him. And make that monster – that abductor of my child – suffer before you finish him off.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Things could never be the way they had once been between Larten and Alicia, and there was no talk of them living together again or marrying. But the General stayed in Paris for a few months and the pair became close friends. Larten visited her every night. They talked about old times, the war, their hopes and fears for the future. They went for long walks, sometimes with Sylva. The girl liked Larten, but he was awkward around her. He had never been a natural with children, and although he tried to amuse her, he was too self-conscious to fully give himself over to play.
Sylva didn’t mind. She thought the stiff man with the strange way of talking was funny.
Wester remained in Paris, but kept out of their way. Larten wanted them to meet, but Wester felt he’d only complicate matters. “She met one of your vampire friends before and look how that turned out,” he laughed whenever Larten pressed him. “This is your time. Enjoy it. We don’t have to share everything.”
Wester visited a few of the bars and casinos of Paris, but he didn’t have much interest in them any more. He spent most of his time in hospitals crammed full of wounded soldiers. He washed floors, carried patients from one room to another, helped any way that he could. Wester no longer thought of himself as human, but despite that, he didn’t like watching people suffer.
Larten would have happily stayed with Alicia until the end of the war, to make sure she got through it safely, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Gavner. They hadn’t discussed the boy since that first night. There was no need. Alicia had told Larten what she wanted, and she trusted him to take action when he was ready.
But time wasn’t their ally. A rotten master could ruin a true-hearted assistant if you gave him long enough, and Tanish had already had several years to work on the boy and twist his view of the world. Larten hoped to save Gavner and stop him turning into a weak, selfish creature like Tanish, but if it wasn’t already too late, it would be soon. If he didn’t act swiftly, Gavner would be lost.
So, reluctantly, Larten took his leave. He bid Alicia farewell, and though it was a much sweeter parting than last time, his heart ached when he kissed her goodbye.
“Can I come and see you again?” he asked.
“Whenever you please,” Alicia smiled.
“My duties may take me to far-off places for long stretches,” he told her. “But when I can, I will find you and visit for a while.”
“You can watch me grow old,” Alicia laughed.
“I would like that,” Larten said seriously, then sighed. “If I do not return, you will know that something has happened to me. As long as I am alive, I will come back. If I do not come…”
