The Four Horsemen

by Cheree Alsop

  “There’s no rush,” Aleric replied. “I’m sure they’d prefer them warm.”

  “I’ll have them ready when you leave,” Iris told him. She walked away with only one backwards glance to show her confusion about what had just happened.

  “Bland palettes?” Dartan repeated. “I have a very exacting palette, if I do say so myself. I prefer my blood to be O Positive because it contains just a hint of—”

  Aleric shook his head with a sigh. “I really can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

  Dartan replied dryly, “Wolfie, you took a vampire to a diner. What am I supposed to do, supply my own beverage?”

  “I happen to know for a fact that you ate before we headed over here, and if you could stop referring to yourself as a vampire, it might make both of our lives a bit easier,” Aleric replied.

  He looked around to see if any of the other diners were alarmed by their conversation, but the couple in far booth and the three young men at the table in the middle of the diner appeared not to notice them.

  “It is cute how she rushed to your rescue,” Dartan noted. “Perhaps you have some charm after all.”

  Aleric felt his cheeks heat up. “That was nothing. I met Iris the other day when I was in here and she was kind enough to give me a massage….”

  Dartan’s eyebrows rose with interest. “A massage! Well. You do get around, Wolfie Boy. I’m proud of you.”

  Aleric rolled his eyes. “Her sister is a masseuse and she saw me rubbing my shoulder. She massaged it for a few minutes before my food was ready. It was nothing.”

  “Nothing,” Dartan replied, his tone indicating that it was anything but. “I saw a twinkle in her eyes. Is there love there, one is left to wonder?”

  Aleric sat back in the booth with a shake of his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Dartan leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “I’ve never known a werewolf to call love ridiculous. Your race is, how shall I put it, extremely impulsive and stubborn on the subject of love.”

  Aleric thought of Lilian. He stared at his pie, his appetite replaced by emptiness. He wasn’t going to voice the thoughts in his head, but the words spilled out anyway. “I see love as this elusive thing, heartbreaking, yet sweet. I long for it and fear it at the same time.”

  He felt Dartan’s stare, but refused to look up.

  “I didn’t know werewolves were poets,” the vampire finally said.

  Aleric pushed his pie back and looked at the vampire. “We’re not. At least, I’m not. And for all I know, I’m the last of us, so that doesn’t leave much hope for the race.”

  Dartan gave him a closer look. “What’s got you so morose all of the sudden?”

  Aleric shook his head. “Now’s not the time or place for this discussion. We were supposed to talk about gorgons, remember?”

  Dartan sat back, his expression stubborn. “I remember, but I feel like this is important. I’ve never heard you talk this way. I take great pride in the fact that I am the best friend of the famous Doctor Wolf.” He grinned when Aleric rolled his eyes and continued, “What kind of a bestie would I be if I missed the not-so-subtle clues that the said doctor is wallowing in a self-created pit of miserable despair?”

  That brought a chuckle from Aleric. “It’s not quite that bad.”

  Dartan lifted an eyebrow. “I just heard a werewolf say love is elusive and he fears it.”

  “You’re taking my words out of context,” Aleric began.

  Dartan cut him off. “Am I? Really? Take one look at yourself in the mirror. On second thought, don’t. The glass will probably shatter from the completely miserable sorrow of your expression right now. Seriously, Wolfie, you have a severe problem, and if that cute waitress and her obvious crush on you doesn’t help it, I fear nothing will.”

  Aleric allowed a small smile to touch his lips. “She doesn’t have a crush on me.”

  “She braved nearly slaying the big, bad vampire to save your life, didn’t she?” Dartan asked.

  Aleric nodded.

  “People do crazy things in the name of love, Doc. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”

  Aleric stared at him. “You were in love?”

  Dartan put a pale hand over his heart. “Are you insinuating by your skeptical tone that because a vampire doesn’t have a fully functioning cardiovascular system the way werewolves do, that our hearts cannot bleed in agony at the mere thought of an unreturned gesture, that we cannot mourn the distance of an adored one’s feelings, that we cannot pine away after love lost or sob our lonesome selves to dreamless sleep when such love is found unrequited?”

  “That’s a bit dramatic,” Aleric pointed out.

  Dartan gave a heartfelt sigh. “You live but the span of a human’s years; can you not imagine the agony of a thousand such years spent in unreciprocated yearning, unanswered worship, and even unrequited total and helpless desire for the briefest lift of the lips that could hint at a smile?” He leaned back in the booth with another loud sigh. “Alas, the torment of a vampire’s heart is misunderstood at best and disregarded at worst.”

  Aleric waited until the vampire stopped speaking to ask, “Are you being serious?”

  Dartan sat back up. “I’m being dramatic. I thought you could tell the difference.”

  Aleric raised a hand to catch Iris’ attention.

  “What are you doing?” Dartan asked.

  “I’m going to tell her to go ahead and stab you,” Aleric replied.

  “Alright, fine,” Dartan said. “It’s true. I was in love once.”

  By his tone, Aleric could tell the admission was a hard one. He watched his friend, hoping that silence would goad him forward the way questions never seemed to.

  Dartan picked up his fork and toyed with the whipped cream on top of the pie. “That’s not something I admit lightly,” he said without taking his eyes from the fork.

  White covered the tines. To Aleric’s surprise, the vampire pushed his plate to the side and began drawing on the table with the edge of one tine.

  “She was beautiful.” Dartan’s tone took on a wistful note. He dipped the fork back into the whipped cream and continued his drawing as he spoke. “Hers was the kind of beauty that made the songbirds still and the crickets fall silent in her wake for fear of breaking the harmony that followed her. She was special.” Dartan looked up at Aleric for a brief moment. “She could talk to ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Aleric repeated, his voice quiet for fear of ending Dartan’s openness.

  “Ghosts,” Dartan said again. A slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know if she was thrilled about it, but she accepted it as a gift instead of the curse most would consider it to be.”

  He used more whipped cream, creating lines and circles Aleric couldn’t interpret from his seat.

  “The ghosts trusted her. Anyone would trust her,” Dartan continued. “She had that special skill. She could walk into a room and immediately everyone was calm. There could be an entire brawl, but the moment she entered, it would stop as though everyone had an agreement that there would be no violence in her presence.”

  There was love in Dartan’s words. It was undeniable. Aleric could see it in the intensity with which Dartan watched his whipped cream creation on the table, and in the way his free hand twitched whenever he mentioned her as though a part of him still longed to hold her hand.

  “You were young,” Aleric guessed, his words soft.

  Dartan nodded. He was quiet for so long Aleric thought he was finished speaking. The werewolf was about to ask a question when Dartan took a shallow breath.

  “We were young and I was foolish to think that my father would ever allow such an interest.” He gripped the fork so tight the metal bent in an arch. Dartan blinked and looked down at the utensil. He gave a little sigh and dipped the tines in the whipped cream once more. “I met Rowe when I was sixteen. She was only fifteen.”

  Dartan smiled as if he couldn’t help himself. It was an expr
ession Aleric had never seen on the vampire’s face before. His piercing red gaze softened, the lines on his forehead disappeared, and for a moment, just a moment, Aleric could imagine him as a sixteen-year-old vampire meeting the girl of his dreams for the first time.

  “She had curly blonde hair that she tossed behind her shoulder with an impatient gesture as though she had no time for its silliness. She used to threaten to cut it all off, only because she knew I would reply that I would shave my head bald in protest. She loved my hair.” Dartan gave a self-deprecating smile and pulled at a strand of his black hair. “The thought of me bald at sixteen would send her into fits of giggles. It was my favorite sound in all of Blays.”

  The happiness in the vampire’s gaze changed to one of sorrow. His lips pressed into a flat line as he looked down at the sketch on the table.

  “It’s strange, isn’t it?” he asked musingly. “The thing I loved about Rowe was that she made me feel more like a human and less like a beastly, blood-devouring vampire.” He shook his head. “I would be the first to tell you that to deny your heritage is to deny your path.” He looked up at Aleric. “And before you accuse me of poetry or oracle-like wit, let me note that it was my mother who told me such things.” His voice lowered along with his gaze. “I suppose it was her way of helping me accept myself before her death.”

  “How did she die?” Aleric asked quietly.

  “My father killed her,” Dartan replied. “I guess now you’ll understand why he was so upset I fell in love with a human at school.”

  Shock filled Aleric to the point that he couldn’t speak. He heard a gasp behind him and glanced back to see Iris and another other waitress listening to the story. Dartan’s gaze flickered to them and then back to the table as if he had known of their presence all along.

  He had drawn a few more lines when Iris said, “Please continue.”

  “You can’t leave us hanging,” an older waitress who wrapped silverware in napkins with thin, worn hands, urged. The woman’s nametag said ‘Dottie’.

  Dartan sat back with a smile and a slightly detached expression that told Aleric he was done with baring his soul to the world. He gave a flourish with one hand and said, “Though her presence is but a memory to me, I will never forget the beauty of her face.”

  Both waitresses crossed to Dartan’s side, all fear of the vampire forgotten. As soon as they turned to see what he had created, hands flew to their faces and looks of shock filled their expressions.

  “I have never seen anything so lovely,” Dottie exclaimed.

  Iris nodded. “It’s as if everything beautiful about a young woman is contained in this one face. No wonder you fell for her so hard.”

  Curious, Aleric rose and walked around to the other side of the table. He reached Dartan’s side and his mouth dropped open.

  The face could have been carved out of marble for all of its grace. Somehow, the vampire had managed to give such depth and expression to her eyes that it felt as though they stared into Aleric’s soul. The curl of her hair around her forehead gave her a youthful appearance along with the slight lift of one eyebrow that hinted at a teasing, cheerful demeanor. The simple lines of her lips contained the whisper of a smile that made the viewer grin in return. The curve of her cheek and the tilt of her chin told of a happy character and youthful spontaneity as though she planned to change the world.

  “She’s an angel,” Aleric said, his words just above a whisper.

  Dartan’s hand slid across the drawing, wiping it from view. Aleric jerked back at the simple action and saw the two waitresses do the same out of the corner of his eye. Loss filled him for a moment as if he had also known her, only to have her taken away. He had to remind himself that she had only been a drawing created with a fork and a helping of whipped cream.

  “You have a rare talent,” Dottie said.

  Iris nodded. “I wish I had thought to take a picture of that,” she said, her tone one of regret. “Nobody will believe me.”

  “If you tell them a vampire came into Minnow’s and drew a young woman’s face on the table with cream and a utensil, they’ll have you hauled away for sure,” Dartan replied with his easy smile.

  Both of the waitresses smiled back. Aleric fought down the urge to roll his eyes. Leave it to Dartan to capture the heart of every woman within his reach.

  “Can I get you anything else, love?” Dottie asked.

  “Your smile is enough for me,” Dartan replied.

  A blush ran across the older woman’s face. Iris giggled and grabbed Dottie’s hand. They both hurried to the kitchen.

  “Did you make that up?” Aleric accused. He couldn’t deny the way the story and the drawing had moved him, but he also wasn’t sure how far the vampire would go to woo the whims of the women around him.

  Dartan shook his head. “If I did, it would have had a happy ending. Believe it or not, even I have a heart.” He held up a hand before Aleric could say anything and concluded, “Even if it isn’t in a fully functioning cardiovascular system, it does have the ability to feel pain.” The vampire cleared his throat and picked up the napkin he had set on his lap despite the fact that he hadn’t eaten a single bite. He proceeded to wipe the whipped cream off of his hand with slow, careful movements. “Now, back to your gorgon problem. We’re here because you got bit.”

  While Aleric wanted to hear what had happened to the girl Dartan had loved, the elf’s life depended on the vampire’s assistance. His shoulder ached. He pull his arm carefully out of the sling and rested it on the table. The different angle helped ease the pain.

  “There’s a vampiress in the city.”

  Aleric doubted anything else he could have said would have had such an effect on the vampire.

  Dartan’s head lifted, his movements to wipe away the whipped cream from his hand forgotten. His fingers opened and the napkin drifted to the floor with the grace of an autumn leaf from a tree. The vampire stared at Aleric as if a goblin had crawled from his mouth or an anansi spider dangled in front of his face. For the first time since Aleric had met him, Dartan appeared actually and completely speechless.

  “Did you hear me?” Aleric repeated. “I said—”

  Dartan cut him off with a simple gesture of his hand. “There’s a vampiress in the city.”

  The way the vampire repeated the words gave them a whole different meaning than Aleric’s had contained. The tone of dread, the resounding horror, and the expression of sheer fear in the vampire’s red eyes sent a chill down Aleric’s spine.

  “You don’t need to repeat yourself,” Dartan said in a voice that was barely a whisper. “The first time was bad enough.”

  “Bad enough?” Aleric echoed. “She saved my life.”

  Dartan shook his head. “You must be mistaken. Vampiresses never save lives. That’s against their entire code. They drain the lives of others and throw them away, forgotten, abused, neglected, and alone.”

  Aleric cracked a smile. “Did you perhaps have a vampiress mistress…?”

  “Don’t!” Dartan said sharply, cutting him off again. There was no humor in the vampire’s red eyes. He looked around as if worried she would appear behind him. He locked onto Aleric’s gaze. “Don’t you dare joke around about this. If you’re making this up….”

  Aleric shook his head at the accusation in the vampire’s words. “I saw her with my own eyes.”

  Dartan let out a hiss through his teeth. “The city is doomed.”

  “She saved my life,” Aleric said. “Did you hear me the first time? What is wrong with you? Aren’t you overreacting? You look like you’ve seen a ghost and you just finished telling me a story of a girl you loved who spoke to ghosts, so you’d think you would be used to it.”

  Dartan’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever seen me look like this?” he demanded.

  Aleric thought about it, then shook his head.

  “When we faced the Archdemon and I nearly burned to death twice, did I look like this?”

  Aleric shook his
head again.

  “When I pretended to turn you over to my father as a sacrifice only to defeat him using wood nymph blood and then send him back as a prisoner to Blays, did I look like this?”

  Aleric didn’t shake his head; he felt the action was unnecessary by that point.

  Dartan leaned across the table toward him. “Aleric, if I look like this, it’s because there’s a reason. Before this one, have you ever met an actual vampiress?”

  Aleric waited. When Dartan refused to continue until he answered the question, he sighed and shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

  Dartan sat back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then don’t you ask if I’m overreacting. Have you ever thought about the fact that every vampire my father brought to Edge City was male?”

  The thought caught Aleric by surprise. “I haven’t.”

  Dartan let out a breath. “At the most, Blays has perhaps three Vampiresses at a time. Do you know why?” He didn’t wait for Aleric to answer this time. “Because they kill each other off. Vampiresses are stronger than vampires, hungrier, and far more vicious. Think of my merciless, heartless father; even he chose a human woman to give him the heir he needed rather than face the wrath of a vampiress. Allow that a moment to settle in.”

  Aleric waited for a drop of condensation to reach the bottom of his glass of milk before he said, “She saved me from the gorgons. I took down three, but I was bitten. I would have died if she hadn’t given me the antidote.”

  Understanding showed in Dartan’s gaze. “So you’re expecting she has another antidote on hand for the elf.”

  Aleric nodded. “It may be the only hope she has.”

  Dartan shook his head. “You’re resting that elf’s life on the good nature of a vampiress. We might as well plan her funeral.”

  “Dartan!” Aleric said. “I have to try.”

  When it was obvious the werewolf wasn’t going to budge, Dartan gave in. “Tell me about your encounter with her.”

  Chapter Nine

  “The only way to find a vampiress is to follow the carnage.”