The Jewel

by Avelyn McCrae

  Chapter Ten

  When Viktor opened his eyes again, it was to find himself on a woven mat in front of a massive hearth. Momentary confusion gave way to pain when he attempted to swallow and remembered his encounter with the maybe-vampire.

  He wasn’t dead! At least, he didn’t believe he was.

  “Good. You are awake.” The unfamiliar voice rolled over him in a mild wave.

  Viktor sat up abruptly, fighting against the dizziness that rushed through him, and cast his eyes around for the speaker. After several seconds, his vision cleared sufficiently to focus on an immaculately dressed man sitting in an ornate chair, sipping from a crystal glass. His host’s face was shadowed, and the skin on his hands was pale, but there was no mistaking the aura of power he held, even seated as he was.

  Viktor knew immediately he had been granted the audience he had sought.

  “You are Constantin?”

  The man leaned forward slightly, just enough for his face to be revealed in the soft glow of fire and candle light. Looking barely older than Viktor’s near three decades, waves of jet black hair were pulled back and neatly tied at the back of his neck, revealing smooth skin over well-crafted features, features that suggested a long history of noble blood and privilege. Flames danced in his nearly colorless eyes, eyes that now focused intently on Viktor.

  “I am Constantin,” he confirmed. “Stefan has informed me that you believe I can be of some assistance to you.”

  Viktor slid his gaze past the man in the chair and, sure enough, he saw the shadows move as the man who had given him the aching throat made his presence known. It seemed odd that such an unconventional being had such a conventional name.

  Surreal didn’t begin to describe the situation.

  Even though he had been working toward this moment for so long, it was still difficult to comprehend that he had made it. That he was actually before a man rumored to be among the most powerful of his kind.

  Viktor summoned his courage and his pride, and stood, albeit shakily. Though he had rehearsed the words in his head many times in preparation for this moment, they all fled under the sheer power of the master vampire’s gaze, and he simply blurted out the truth.

  “I must become vampire.”

  It was a risk.

  Long moments stretched by with nothing but the crackling of the fire to break up the silence. It took everything he had for Viktor to stand tall and not look away, but there was courage to be found in desperation. Constantin was his last hope—his only hope—of finding Gemma. If it cost him his life, so be it.

  “An unusual request,” Constantin said evenly, showing no indication that Viktor’s request was either unusual or unexpected. Encouragingly, he seemed more curious than angry. “May I inquire why?”

  “It is a private matter.”

  Viktor received a tight, cold smile in response as Constantin rose smoothly to his feet. “Then I cannot help you. Good evening to you. Stefan, please see that our guest makes it back to the village.”

  The man who had attacked him earlier stepped out of the shadows, his face still partially hidden. Viktor knew with certainty that, if he left the room with the shadow, chances were, he would not be breathing post-escort.

  Realizing he had no other choice, Viktor said, “No, wait! Please! I will answer your question.”

  Constantin waved his hand in a slight movement, and the one called Stefan took a step back.

  “What I seek, I do to avenge another.”

  Constantin remained unnaturally still, though he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. “It is said that he who seeks vengeance must dig two graves. One for his enemy, and one for himself.”

  Viktor straightened his shoulders and stood tall. “I welcome death, if that is what it takes.”

  Once again, long moments ticked by in near silence. Viktor’s heart thundered against his chest, certain those words would be his last. He had danced with death on many occasions since his quest had begun, but those times had only served to harden him, make him stronger ... and smarter. This was the first time he had been faced with a battle he had absolutely no chance of winning.

  Instead of killing him, however, Constantin looked even more intrigued. “I must admit, you have piqued my interest, Master ...”

  “Viktor,” he provided, glad his voice did not broadcast his fear, though they no doubt were already well aware of it. If the legends were true, and he believed many of them were, the vampires could not only hear his thundering heart, but scent his dread, as well. Oddly enough, Constantin’s civility made him even more terrifying.

  “Master Viktor,” Constantin said, inclining his head slightly in acknowledgement. “It takes great skill and courage to come as far as you have. Remarkable tenacity, as well. Unusual qualities for a mortal. You have earned a chance to be heard, but first thing’s first.” He turned away, walking with a smooth, graceful gait as he spoke to the shadows. “Stefan, see to it that our guest receives food and clean clothes. A bath would also be advisable. Then I will hear what he has to say.”

  Relief flooded through Viktor, but he wasn’t about to let his guard down entirely. Though he had been granted a temporary boon, his future was precarious at best.

  Stefan did not look pleased by Constantin’s command as he stepped from the shadows.

  By the light of the fire and oil lamps, Viktor got his first good look at the man who had moved so fast and held such strength. Stefan’s hair was not the black of night he had expected, but that of golden wheat. His eyes were blue, as pale as a winter sky and holding all the warmth of an ice-encrusted stream.

  Without a word, Stefan turned and walked in the opposite direction, leaving Viktor to follow. The silence continued as Viktor was led through a series of corridors.

  After the first dozen turns or so, Viktor abandoned his plan to mentally plot their progress. Instead, he tried to take in as much as he could.

  It had been a long time since he had enjoyed decent accommodations. Even so, he had never been in a place like this. Judging by the sheer size and stonework, Viktor concluded they were in an authentic castle.

  Extraordinary paintings adorned the walls. Beautiful carved statuaries in white and black marble rested in arched alcoves. Countless items that looked rare and important surrounded them at every turn, even though Viktor did not understand their significance.

  Viktor couldn’t help thinking this was a place built and maintained for royalty, not soulless monsters.

  They had climbed so many stairs, Viktor’s legs ached by the time Stefan stopped before an open door. Inside, Viktor found a tub of steaming water, a roaring fire, and a small table laden with bread, cheese, and mead. He vaguely wondered how things had been prepared so quickly, then remembered who, or rather what, he was dealing with.

  He turned to murmur his thanks to Stefan, but the door was already closing and his sullen escort had disappeared yet again. Curious, Viktor tested the door and found it unlocked. A quick peek revealed the stone corridor to be empty and free of guards. He didn’t know if that should be a cause for worry or comfort, then decided it didn’t matter. Either way, his fate would be decided by the time dawn broke once again.

  He closed the door and examined his surroundings more closely. Rather than the dungeon-like cell or meager washroom he had expected, the accommodations were those that might have been provided for an honored guest.

  The carved table and chairs were of superior quality. The tapestries that hung upon the walls were skillfully done, woven in vivid fabrics and depicting scenes of beautiful castles, mountainous landscapes, and abundant wildlife. Renderings of this very castle and grounds, perhaps?

  Moving one of the tapestries to the side, Viktor peered out the window, unsurprised to find it still night. In the light of the moon, he could make out the tops of trees, and beyond that, more trees. A layer of thick, rolling fog made seeing the grounds impossible, though he instinctively knew he was very high up. To the left and right were turrets and spire
s. It was a castle, sure enough. A hidden castle in an unknown, secluded, idyllic location.

  His stomach growled, interrupting his musings and reminding him of his tasks to eat and bathe. He appeased his hunger first; it had been a while since he had eaten so well. His young man’s body had matured, become leaner, harder, now bulging with muscles from the heavy manual labor jobs he had picked up occasionally to put a bit of food in his belly.

  The bath was next. Viktor hissed as he lowered himself into the heated waters. The pleasure to be found in such a simple, civilized act was something that had been lost to him in his quest, but returned in a blissful rush. His host’s kindness was unexpected, but very much appreciated.

  He scrubbed himself clean with fragrant, spicy soap, making use of the straight edge provided and erasing months of growth from his jaw. Then he soaked in the water until it grew cold before donning the soft leather trews and fine linen shirt that had been left on the bed for him. The materials felt foreign on his skin. Even his father, wealthy landowner he was, had not worn such finery.

  Again, he couldn’t help thinking how a man who was supposed to be a monster had treated him with nothing but respect and compassion.

  Just as he was wondering whether he was expected to find his way back or await an escort, Stefan reappeared. And again, wordlessly, he led Viktor through a dizzying maze of stairways and corridors.

  “Ah, much better,” Constantin commented when Viktor was shown into the library.

  Viktor was nearly overwhelmed by the scents of old leather and wood oil as he marveled at the thousands of books stretching from wall to wall and far above his head. A vividly colored illustration edged with gold leaf sat upon a massive desk, amidst several wells of ink and quills, clearly a work in progress.

  “You were a monk?” Viktor guessed aloud.

  “Once,” Constantin confirmed. “A very long time ago. I trust everything was satisfactory?”

  Viktor would have liked to ask more, but he did not want to offend his host.

  He bent forward in a respectful half-bow. “More than. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated.”

  Constantin inclined his head in acknowledgement, then indicated a chair situated at an angle to his own. “Please, sit.”

  Viktor did, lowering himself onto the chair while casting another glance around the room. Expectedly, his escort, Stefan, was once again back in the shadows.

  “You have been on your quest a long time, Master Viktor.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Just Viktor, please. Seven years. But something tells me you already knew that.”

  Constantin nodded. “We keep our eyes and ears open, Viktor. The preternatural community is a secretive one, and we wish to keep it that way. You, however, have ignored repeated attempts to discourage you. Your tenacity is admirable. For this, you have been granted my ear. Tell me of the one you seek to avenge,” Constantin commanded, handing Viktor a snifter of fine Cognac.

  So, Viktor did. He told him of Gemma, how they were to be wed, how the dark one had come to the village, how Gemma had sacrificed herself on his behalf. Constantin listened quietly until he was finished.

  “I believe you have omitted a critical part of your tale.”

  “Sir?”

  “Why did the vampire seek out your beloved?”

  Viktor hesitated. Yes, he had deliberately omitted that part. The blood oath Catriona had insisted upon prevented him from revealing Gemma’s true nature. But he had no choice. If he wished Constantin’s help, he would have to be as honest as his oath would allow.

  “Even if I wanted to tell you, I cannot.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I have sworn a blood oath to a powerful sorceress that I would not reveal Gemma’s secrets.”

  Constantin’s brow raised in interest. “Would I be right in assuming your beloved is a direct descendent of this sorceress?”

  “Yes.”

  “And her father?”

  “That, I do not know.”

  Constantin’s eyes bored into him. Suddenly, Viktor felt the vampire’s presence in his head, sifting around, searching, validating. It was not pleasant.

  “If you can read my thoughts,” Viktor said through clenched teeth, “then why go through all this? Why not just pluck the knowledge from my head and be done with it?”

  The vampire’s presence receded, leaving Viktor feeling weak and somewhat violated.

  “Information, Viktor. Information and trust. Your oath left me no other choice. To consider your request, I must be certain of your motives. What you ask is not to be taken lightly.”

  “You will consider it, then?” he asked hopefully.

  Constantin was quiet again for several long moments before he said, “As you were honest with me, so I will be truthful with you. Your quest is doomed for failure.”

  Disappointment raced through him, anger quick on its heels. “Are you telling me there is no way to defeat him?”

  “No. It would be difficult, but not impossible.”

  Viktor shot to his feet. “Then what are you saying? That I am not worthy?”

  “It is not your worth, but your ignorance that is the issue here, Viktor. Your passion is admirable, but it will not get you what you want. What you ask for is nothing less than a rebirth. Your mortal life will cease to exist, and with it, all memory of who and what you were. You will not remember your beloved, Viktor, because you will not remember yourself.”

  Viktor sank back into the chair, stunned. Over the course of his quest, he had heard many things, as vampires were deeply rooted in myth and rumor. This was the first solid fact he had heard, and it was disheartening. Had he gone through all this for nothing?

  No, he refused to believe that. Constantin wasn’t the first to attempt to dissuade him, but none of them had understood, either. There was nothing he would not do for even the slightest chance to get her back.

  “I could never forget her,” he said finally, straightening his spine. Gemma was the love of his life, the other half of his soul. “My very heart beats only for her.”

  Clear eyes fixed upon him. No longer curious, they now held only pity. Constantin’s voice was oddly gentle when he said, “Ah, but if your wish is granted, your heart, like the rest of you, will become vampire.”

  “If you are so certain failure is imminent, then why even consider it?”

  Constantin took several moments to answer. “Because, Viktor, I can use a man of such admirable devotion and strength of character. Unlike mortal memories, such things transcend death, for they are built right into the fabric of our beings.”

  Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “Use me? Use me how?”

  “The preternatural world is not so different from the mortal world. There are those who are evil, like this man who took your beloved, and those who are not. My people strive to keep a balance between the two. We have been doing so for thousands of years.”

  “And how do they do that?”

  “I will say no more than that. You must make your decision upon the information I have provided.”

  “If I refuse?”

  Constantin smiled gravely. “Then you will be returned to the alley in which Stefan found you, with no memory of the last twenty-four hours.”

  Viktor’s mind raced. If he left now, all would be for naught. He would never be granted another audience like this one. If he had even the slightest chance of finding Gemma, he had to take it. He had to believe his love for Gemma would transcend the change somehow.

  “Very well. Do as I ask, permit me the opportunity to achieve my task, and you shall have my fealty.”

  Constantin nodded. “Then we have an accord. Do you wish time to prepare?”

  Viktor took a deep breath. “I’ve been preparing for more than seven years.”

  “Very well. Stefan, if you please.”

  The shadows shifted and Stefan was suddenly behind him, lifting Viktor from the chair and holding him immobile. Constantin moved forward in a smooth glide, h
is fangs lengthening. Viktor couldn’t stop his heart from beating furiously, but he never wavered in his decision.

  “You are certain this is what you want? Once begun, there is no going back.”

  “I’m sure. Just ... one question.”

  Constantin stopped inches from Viktor. His fingernails had extended, as well, resembling sharp claws. It was with one of these he tapped along Viktor’s jugular, plumping the vein. “Yes?”

  “You’ve read my thoughts, you’ve seen the vampire I seek; do you know who he is?”

  “Yes.”

  With the speed of a viper, Constantin sunk his fangs into Viktor’s neck. Viktor’s body jerked, but Stefan held him firmly in place.

  Despite his decision, Viktor’s survival instincts kicked in and he fought, but it was of no consequence. With each pull, more of his life’s blood was drained. His limbs grew weak and his mind foggy as his heart struggled to beat until he lost consciousness.

  Constantin stepped back, dabbing at his lips with a silk handkerchief. He then scored his wrist, allowing his own blood to flow into Viktor’s mouth, held open by Stefan. When he had provided enough, he licked once at his wound, healing it instantly.

  “Take him to the tower. Ensure he has everything he needs.”

  Stefan nodded, easily lifting Viktor’s still frame. “It has been a long time since we added to our ranks.”

  “It has been a long time since I found someone worthy enough.”

  “And you believe he is?” Stefan asked doubtfully.

  “Yes. He is strong of will and heart, with a clear moral compass. Despite what he believes, he will not remember his beloved, though he will always have that emptiness within. He will make a fine assassin, indeed. Just like you, Stefan.”

  Stefan inclined his head in acknowledgement, then carried Viktor to the north tower.

  Chapter Eleven

  Five Hundred Years Later

  Viktor entered the secluded mountain fortress with the confident stride of a man who embraced his purpose in life. The coldness in his soul made him a natural assassin. Five hundred years of singular focus under Constantin’s tutelage had made him the best.