Sasha ignored the comment, dropping his sack and walking toward the elf with his arms outstretched. “Give her to me.”
Jander didn’t move at first. “You still do not trust me.”
“You’re a vampire! How can I trust you?”
“Would you trust me if I bargained for her, then?”
Sasha’s face grew dark with anger. “What do you want, nosferatu?”
“You live in the church, the only place in the town that has books and records. I’m looking for someone named Anna, who was born about the year 333 of the Barovian calendar. Let me know if there’s anything there about her.”
“Why do you want to know?”
Jander was becoming exasperated. “Not for any malevolent reason, I assure you. There’s little in you that knows trust, Sasha, or laughter. I miss the boy who used to tell ghost stories.”
Sasha’s lips thinned with a growing impatience. “That boy died that night, along with his family. I have little left to laugh about.”
Something broke in Jander with an abruptness that took them both by surprise. His blond brows flew together in a terrible frown.
“Nothing? You’re alive. You’re young. You don’t have to feast on innocents to survive!” He thrust the little girl out in front of him with a vehemence that woke her. “You can feel the sun, know the love of a woman, of your fellow humans … Gods! If I were you, son of Petya, I would give thanks on my knees every day, and I would laugh every minute!”
The girl began to cry. Sasha snatched her and cradled her close. As soon as the young man had taken the girl, Jander changed into a wolf and bounded off, ears flat and tail bushy.
Sasha was surprised at the elf’s outburst. Jander had been right. There was much that he was taking for granted, and it shamed him that it had taken an undead creature to point it out.
“Where’d the gold man go?” the girl asked.
“You’re safe, little one. I’m taking you home.”
“I want the gold man! And I want to get down.”
“We’ll put you down as soon as we get to the village, hmm?”
Sasha’s mind wasn’t on the girl’s prattle, but on the peculiar elven vampire. He was halfway home when he heard the sound, a low moan and a deep, throaty laugh. For an instant he blushed with embarrassment, thinking he had stumbled upon a pair of young lovers. He realized almost at once that the moan had no pleasure in it, and the laugh was full of cruelty.
Quickly he put the little girl down. “What you doing?” she asked. He slipped his own medallion of Lathander over her head and took out a length of rope. “I’m coming right back, little one. I’m tying you here so you don’t wander off in the mists and get lost, all right?”
“No!” she protested, her pink mouth puckered in a frown.
Sasha winced at the noise. “We’re going to play a game, all right?” he whispered. “It’s called the ‘Quiet Game.’ And the little girl who can be the quietest gets some dried sugar apples.”
The girl brightened considerably as he finished tying her to the tree. She put a finger on her lips, and he did likewise. His eyes narrowed, he hunted for the source of the sounds.
A beautiful woman was crouched over the body of a younger woman. Her lips were fastened to her victim’s neck, and she sucked deeply, a thin trickle of crimson escaping her hungry mouth and dribbling down to disappear in her victim’s collar. Lounging beside the vampire was a gray-brown wolf, eyes half-shut, tongue lolling. Thankfully Sasha was downwind, and neither night creature noticed his approach.
The familiar anger welled up inside Sasha. Gods, how he hated these monsters. The fear, the eternal fear, also filled him, but as always he fought it down. Taking expert aim, he hurled a vial of holy water at the vampiress’s head. The vial shattered and spilled its contents, burning her flesh and blinding her. She let out an unearthly wail. The wolf leaped to its feet, hackles raised, and growled menacingly.
“Demon of darkness!” Sasha bellowed, shattering the night. “In the name of Lathander Morninglord, I command you to leave this place!” He thrust a pink wooden disk before him forcefully, the determination on his young features making him look much older than his twenty-four summers.
The vampiress hissed. All trace of beauty had vanished from her twisted features. Her face was a mask of blood and charred flesh. She cringed, howling, and then disappeared. The wolf who had accompanied her snapped its sharp teeth, then bounded into the enveloping night. Sasha said a silent prayer of thanksgiving to Lathander as he scurried forward to the fallen villager.
The young woman’s breathing was shallow, but she was still alive. With speed born of practice, Sasha cleaned the wound with holy water, applied gentle pressure to stop the bleeding, and bound it. When he got her back to safety, he would pray to Lathander to heal her. At the moment, however, Sasha was afraid to waste time. He covered the unfortunate woman with the cloak, then left to fetch the little girl.
“I’m being very quiet,” she whispered loudly as he untied her from the tree.
“I know, little one,” Sasha whispered back, “and I’m very proud of you.”
When they returned, the young woman was trying to sit up. At Sasha’s approach, she attempted to draw a dagger from her boot. She failed, her fingers fumbling uselessly.
“Easy, easy.” Sasha murmured. “You’re going to be a bit weak for a time.”
Her eyes focused, and she looked up at Sasha. The priest started at a horrible realization: he hadn’t put his hood on. Did she know that Sasha was a vampire hunter? Had she seen him attack the undead creatures? His carefully crafted image of a shy priest would be destroyed unless he could convince her to keep his secret.
“Wh-what happened?” the young woman murmured.
“You were attacked by a vampire.”
“You’re the priest.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“So you drove it away?”
Sasha hesitated. “Well—”
“I can help you.” The young woman was weak, but she was obviously serious in her offer. She blinked dazedly; still in shock, Sasha assumed. “My name is Leisl,” she said, her voice growing faint, “and I can help you. I’m not afraid of those … things, and I hate that the night isn’t safe for honest thieves.” Her eyes became unfocused. “You can’t keep doing this all by yourself, you know. What if you got … hurt …?”
Weakened by the effort and the loss of blood, Leisl fainted. Sasha barely moved quickly enough to catch her.
LIGHT STREAMED OVER LEISL’S FACE. SHE BLINKED sleepily, squinting against the brightness. When her eyes had adjusted, she looked around.
The golden sunlight—probably late afternoon, the Little Fox guessed—poured in from a single small window that was open to let in the early summer warmth. She was resting in a small but comfortable bed, covered with a single wool blanket. As she looked around the room she noticed that it was small and the walls were at odd angles. An attic of some sort, she decided. A stool and a table supporting a basin and candlestick were the only furniture apart from the bed that she noticed.
As she craned her neck to look around, she winced. One hand went up to touch the bandage on her throat. Memory flooded back, and Leisl wondered where she was.
A young, attractive woman entered through the suddenly open door. Her face lit up with a smile when she saw Leisl was awake.
“Where’s Sasha?” Leisl demanded.
The girl seemed taken aback, but continued smiling.
“You’re awake. That’s good. My name is—”
“Katya, I know. Where’s Sasha?”
Katya raised her eyebrows in surprise. “He’s away at the moment. He told me to look after you. You’re in his room here at the church. Do you feel up to eating anything?”
The thought of food made Leisl nauseous, but to get rid of Katya for a few moments she replied, “Yes, I’d love something to eat.”
“Good. I’ll be right back. You just lie here and rest.” Katya patted Leisl’s hand
in a sisterly fashion, then left, closing the door behind her.
This is just wonderful, Leisl thought sarcastically. In the bed of the man I love and being taken care of by his fiancee. Just wonderful. Carefully Leisl eased herself up and noticed that someone had changed her clothing. She was wearing a man’s cotton shirt that was too large for her and nothing else. Leisl blushed hotly.
There was a knock on the door. The Little Fox drew the covers up to her chest protectively. “Come on in. That was fast cooking, Kat—oh.”
It was Sasha, a thin line of worry between his eyes. He was clad, once again, in his priestly garb. “Good morning. Leisl, isn’t it? Are you feeling better?”
She nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
“Look,” he began, pulling up the stool and sitting next to her, “we’ve got to talk.”
Leisl leaned back on the pillow and folded her thin arms across her chest. “Go ahead.”
“You said last night that you were a thief.”
She went cold inside. Had she really said that? “You insult me. Calling me a thief when you don’t even know—”
“You said it, Leisl,” Sasha repeated in a weary tone. “You were weak and not thinking clearly, but I know it’s the truth.”
Leisl looked away. “You going to turn me in?” She’d be flogged in the public square, at least. If the burgomaster was in a particularly bad mood, he might even order her hands cut off.
Sasha shook his head. “I’ll bargain with you. No one knows that I … I do what I do at night. I have to keep it secret.”
“That’s understandable. We’ll keep things discreet.”
“You can’t come with me.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Leisl snorted. “Sasha, listen, you don’t know dangerous from your—”
“Well, I see you two are having a fine conversation,” said Katya as she entered, carrying a tray. Despite her earlier queasiness, Leisl sniffed appreciatively at the food. Katya had brought her some hot porridge, bread and butter, fried eggs, and a large jug of fresh milk.
“I think,” said Leisl as Katya adjusted the tray on her lap, “that I am going to eat all of this very quickly.”
“Good,” Katya approved. “It’ll put some meat on your bones.” Leisl glared at her, but the other woman appeared oblivious. “Shall I leave you two to chat?”
“Please,” the priest replied. Katya bent and kissed his cheek.
“Call me if you need anything,” she told the Little Fox as she left.
An uncomfortable silence fell. Leisl tackled the eggs hungrily. “These are real good. Want some?” she offered, her mouth full.
Sasha grimaced. “No, thanks.”
Leisl pointed at the door with her fork. “She know about your, uh, hobby?”
“No, and I’d like to keep it that way. I told her I found you on the doorstep this morning, very early.” He paused. “I appreciate your offer of help, but it’s dangerous enough for one. Two, especially a girl—”
Leisl threw him a murderous glance. “I’ve stolen for a living since I was seven years old, Sasha Petrovich,” she snapped, “and I’ve wriggled out of situations that would turn that black hair of yours snowy white. Maybe that sweet-faced little maiden couldn’t handle it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t. So just shut up about me being a girl, all right?”
“You have a very poor way of thanking somebody who has just saved your life,” Sasha said, very quietly.
Leisl’s eyes fell to her plate. “Sorry. You’re right. That’s just a sore spot with me.” She continued eating. “Katya cooks very well,” she confessed.
“So, can I trust you to not betray my secret?”
Leisl began to butter the bread. “Yes. I’ll keep my mouth shut, provided you do the same.”
“Thank you, Leisl. You’re free to stay here until you feel well.” He rose and left without another word. Leisl looked after him, a softness on her face that would have stunned Sasha had he seen it. Then she returned her attention to Katya’s excellent cooking. The Little Fox was not about to leave until she’d finished her meal.
The vampiress sniffed, and a slow smile spread across her face.
Human blood.
The wolf at her heels also caught the scent, growling faintly with eagerness. Together the two predators moved toward the kill.
The human, dressed in black, would be easy prey. Small and slender, he stood in front of the fast-running Ivlis, aimlessly tossing pebbles into the black water.
Soundlessly she was upon him, but it was she who was surprised. The minute her hands closed on his shoulders, he hurled himself into the pool, reaching to return her embrace.
The vampiress wailed, but the inky waters of the river rushed down her open throat, filled her nostrils. They sank like stones, the vampiress totally unable to swim. She felt the boy attempt to pull free of her grasp and tightened her arms about his slender body. Damn him, if she was going to die, she would take him with her …
From her hiding place in a tall, gnarled tree near the river, the Little Fox watched anxiously. She’d seen everything; Sasha was, without a doubt, the stupidest young man she’d ever seen. And she’d seen a lot of stupid young men. She had to admit, though, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. After all, he had saved her from a vampire.
Leisl became a little anxious when a flurry of bubbles burst on the surface with a series of pops. She became even more worried when no further bubbles came up. When several long seconds had passed, she cursed heartily and dived in herself.
By the gods, but the water was cold, even in summer. The shock to Leisl’s system almost caused her to gasp and lose her lungsful of precious air, but she bit down hard against the impulse and swam deeper. Her hands touched yielding flesh.
The vampiress was dead, but her weight and her death grip prevented Sasha from freeing himself and heading for the surface. It was too dark for the Little Fox to see anything, but she figured that the struggling one was Sasha, and pried the dead hands from around his neck. Chunks of flesh, ripped from the undead’s bones by the merciless currents, brushed passed Leisl. For a few precious seconds, Sasha fought her, but then he shot to the surface. She followed.
They both coughed like consumptives for a moment, wheezing and gasping, then Sasha struck out for the shore. After they both clambered onto the bank, shivering violently, Sasha found his cloak and held it open for her. She accepted the woollen warmth gratefully, wishing she could make her teeth stop chattering.
“You shouldn’t have followed me,” Sasha said. “You could have been hurt, even killed. What I do is dangerous work.”
The Little Fox snorted. “Obviously. You’d have d-drowned without me.” She opened her cloak. “C-come on in. You’ll die yet if you don’t get w-warm.”
Sasha hesitated, an image of Katya flashing into his mind. He dismissed it. Leisl hardly counted as a woman and was certainly no threat to Katya’s place in his heart. They moved close as Sasha tugged the cloak closed for warmth.
For a while they walked toward the village in silence. Leisl was nearly as tall as the priest was and matched his stride efficiently. “So,” she said, “when do we go out next?”
Sasha stopped and glared down at her from a distance of four inches. “What makes you think I’d take you with me?”
“Oh, you will.” She smiled wickedly. “Or else I’ll tell your precious Katya what you do after dark.”
Sasha flushed deeply with anger. He was not in the least ashamed of his vampire stalking, but he had no wish involve his innocent bride-to-be in that dangerous activity. Should his identity be discovered, she would be in more than mortal danger. Besides, Katya had had enough pain in her brief life. He would not add to it by making her worry about him.
The Little Fox arched an eyebrow. “Well? What do you choose? Do you have a partner or a frantic fiancee?”
There was no choice, and she knew it. He did not even bother to reply, but pulled his cloak off her
and strode on ahead. “Hey!” she called and hurried after him.
“You’re going to have to swear allegiance to Lathander Morninglord,” Sasha stated, not looking at her. “It’s the only way I can be seen with you.”
“That’s fine. I kind of like the idea of him, anyway.”
“You’re going to have to take orders from me without questioning them.”
“That’s fine too.”
“And no more thieving. I will not work with someone who steals for a living.”
Leisl opened her mouth to protest, then shut it.
“Agreed. So, am I in?”
He looked down at her, exasperation warring with amusement. “You’re a real pest. You know that, don’t you?”
The Little Fox grinned.
“Your move,” said Strahd silkily.
Jander frowned to himself as he scrutinized the board. They were playing a game Strahd himself had invented, called Hawks and Hares. Naturally the lord of Barovia always insisted on being the Hawk. As the elf learned the nuances of the game, however, he was starting to give Strahd a bit of competition. There was a long pause, in which the crackling fire provided the only sound. At length Jander moved his Hare two squares to the right. “I can reach my warren in five moves,” he announced.
Strahd frowned, his dark eyes searching the board, totally engrossed in the game. “Not if I bring my Goshawk into play,” he purred, his piece “swooping” down on Jander’s Hare. He picked up the gray stone and moved it to the pile of others he had taken from the elf during the course of the game. “Jander, you always forget to guard your back.”
“And you,” Jander said, pleased with himself, “always forget about details.” He moved the piece that was the Rabbit Doe forward two hops. “The Doe has reached the warren. According to the rules that gives me”—he counted the remaining pieces on the board—“five more Kittens to introduce into play.” His silver eyes bright with amusement, he reached over to the pile of gray stones and selected five.
“You play on the defensive,” Strahd noted.
“I’m the Hare. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
Vampire of the Mists Page 23
