“Let’s get back to work.” Belun stood up, his voice sharper.
Of course, I did everything using force, which always resulted in a huge failure. I needed time to sense my opponent, to understand the way he moved, his balance, and what exactly to do with that knowledge once I’d gotten it. I’d been looking for that particular moment for two months now, and here it was! I finally managed to find the point where I could do the moves well.
“Good work,” Belun echoed my thoughts. “You’ve found it.”
Seeing my progress, he pushed the tempo. Lee’s attacks intensified, and I was becoming exhausted faster than before. When I couldn’t endure anymore, Belun asked me to practice break falls. He said that they had to be mastered in order to protect oneself from injury. And that meant Lee throwing me around, only I didn’t need to be quick to react and attack after a break fall. There was not much difference; I felt like a poor dog running after his master’s car. For dozens of miles. Hitting the mat wasn’t fun at all, so I decided that I wouldn’t be so quick to complain of fatigue the next time. Anything was better than this.
After the training, I remained lying on the ground. Okay, the training was way too intense for me. But I shouldn’t be complaining, I had wanted to know how to defend myself. Belun told Lee that the two of us would take care of the mats, so we found ourselves alone in a gym that smelled of our sweat and pain.
“Those must be some serious injuries you’ve got,” I said, indicating his shoulder.
“Something like that.”
“What’s the sore part?”
“My arm.” Apparently he didn’t want to go into detail. He pulled down his dark sweatshirt that was rumpled up on his waist.
“Have you checked with a doctor?”
He let out a small laugh and shook it off. “So, how does the new painting suit your wall?” He changed the topic.
“Fabulous!”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“And I’m glad you gave it to me,” I said, willing myself to leave.
“Tonight I have movie night,” I added, remembering that he’d asked me out for a drink the last time we’d left the gym.
“With Doris?”
“No, the rest of my colleagues were worried after the attack, so they want to do something for me, I guess.”
“That’s nice.”
“Mmm hmm. Guess what’s on tonight’s screen.”
“Dracula?” Belun said, his eyes narrowed and a smile on his lips.
“Ugh, how did you know?! Actually, it’s one of Lugosi’s movies, but I’m not really sure which one.”
“Have a good time, then,” he said, as our paths split.
“You too.”
Walking toward my room, I wondered what he was going to do that night. I took a quick shower and got ready for the hangout. The thought of Julia brought the sting of her absence; hopefully she’d return soon.
Max and Lyndon were there as well, and they all seemed happy to see me alive and well. Even Lyndon managed a somewhat kind face.
“Hey Fighter!” Max approached me, giving me a clumsy hug. Lyndon gave me a smile, which I returned.
“There was a huge debate over which Lugosi movie to present to you tonight,” Blake stated, placing the popcorn on the table.
“Right. Boys-gone-wild in the last half hour,” Lyndon added.
“I was for White Zombie, it’s legendary,” Tibor said, and Blake had an immediate respond.
“And I wanted Murders in the Rue Morgue. You can’t find that atmosphere and intensity anywhere else.”
I had no idea what they were talking about.
“And I was more for Mark of the Vampire, which was better directed than Dracula, but Lyndon got sick of us and decided to play Dracula, a known classic,” Max added to the argument.
“But they’re all classics!” Blake and Tibor said at once, and Lyndon rolled her eyes, looking at me as if to say, “See, this was what I had to put up with.” But I laughed. They were so funny and intense about something as irrelevant as an old flick—although, I didn’t dare to say that out loud.
“Hey, I have nothing against good old Bram Stoker,” I said.
“What’s your poison?” Blake asked me, bringing more popcorn.
“Coke.”
“We ordered pizza,” Max told me.
“We can do that?” I was confused. I had thought that this place was a secret.
“Sure do, we have an army of cooks.”
“Oh, that, right.” Silly me, I had forgotten that there was no need to call a pizza place when we had a chef on duty.
“We have free catering for all occasions,” Lyndon explained.
Blake brought me my drink. “You know, we weren’t only fighting about movies; we actually agreed on one thing, too.”
I raised my eyebrows and Tibor chimed in. “The worst Lugosi’s movie! Bela Lugosi meets a Brooklyn Gorilla.”
“Okay, that sounds pretty awful,” I laughed.
“It’s an absolutely painful experience,” Max said.
“Oh, and that Son of Frankenstein has the best quote, when Lugosi acts the great role of Igor and says: I’m sorry. I cough. You see, bone get stuck in throat!” We all laughed at Blake’s imitation. He and Tibor recited some more of his quotes, pushing hard with the accent. But Tibor was the definite winner, his Eastern European heritage unbeatably taking on the accent.
“You know that Bela was so desperate to act in Dracula that he agreed to work for $500 a week, which was barely anything in that business, even during the Great Depression.”
The Depression? “When was this movie filmed?”
“1931,” Max replied.
’31?! “Does it have sound?” They all practically died laughing at my question. Ha-ha. I really sucked at old movies; I’d never liked them. I’d thought that the first movies to have sound were with Humphrey Bogart. This was gonna be a return to prehistory.
“Did you know that Lugosi never blinked in that movie?” Max probably just wanted to increase my interest, but I hadn’t known, of course I hadn’t; I’d only first heard of the actor a week ago.
“Have you ever watched a vampire movie before?” Tibor teased me.
“Only ones in color.”
Blake turned off the lights as the movie started. The beginning credits dragged on for ages with dramatic music in the background. And there we were, in Transylvania, Romania. They told me that Bela was originally from those parts and that it couldn’t have been more authentic than that. Who cared? The reason I didn’t like old movies was that I could never see the art in theatrical overacting. Actually, it irritated me. Whenever I’d seen something like that on TV, I’d changed the channel, and now I was supposed to enjoy it? The way I saw it, it was the unfortunate transition period from theater to cinema.
“Here it comes!” Tibor announced, and they all repeated with Bela: “Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make.”
Bela said it slowly, walking up the stairs with wolves howling in the background. And the movie continued with the crazy hypnotic eyes of Dr-racula, who really didn’t blink, not once—with his long fingers that controlled his victims, and his really remarkable cape movement. It managed to catch my attention at several points, but mostly I found it boring.
After it was over, everyone looked respectful. Everyone except me, of course.
“That scene when they travel to London is borrowed from another movie—The Storm Breaker from ‘25.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. They wanted to educate me about something I really didn’t want to know about; plus, they had pushed a bunch of new information on me that I hadn’t asked for. I had gotten sleepy in the middle of the film, but I had managed to stay awake somehow, only out of respect for my fellow colleagues and their efforts to entertain me.
“Bela is buried in the cape from this movie,” Blake said.
“That’s bizarre,” I muttered.
There were more jokes and quotes fr
om the movie, but I switched off. I could barely keep my eyes open at that point.
“Guys, I’m done,” I finally spit out.
“I’m surprised that you endured this much,” Lyndon said, without cynicism.
“Thanks for tonight, I had a great time.” I said my goodbyes and left.
As soon as I’d fallen on my bed, I lost myself in sleep.
Chapter 16
Thanksgiving Day
The phone buzzing startled me.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” My Mom’s euphoric voice came through the receiver.
“Hey, Mom. To you, too,”
“How are you, hon? You sound strange.”
“I’ve been studying a lot lately.” Fat lie, I thought, lazily putting away a novel I had been reading. “How’re you and Dad?”
“We’re great, but we miss you, sweetie.”
“I miss you too, guys.”
Talking to my parents was always the same, but when they were far away it was nice hearing their voices from time to time.
“Is anything new?” she asked, joyfully.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . . some boy maybe?” Since when did we talk about boys?
“Mom.”
“What, sweetie, you’re in college, have a little fun. You have your whole life in front of you to work hard.” Did I hear frustration in that?
“Are you and Dad okay?”
“This is not about your father and me, it’s about you. You know that we support your decisions, but it seems that you shut out the rest of the world. And that’s not healthy. You’re young, and you should have fun.”
I rolled my eyes, not knowing what to say exactly. Oh, I was having fun. However, not the kind I could talk about.
“Okay, I don’t want to bother you. Your Dad says hi.”
“Kisses to both of you.”
“Keep your head up, and open your eyes, sweetie.” Her words made me chuckle. If I remembered correctly, last time she said, “Be happy.” And it all sounded like lines from self-help books—at least the way she said them.
“Love you too.”
On that other continent, people celebrated their holiday, and on this one, I was spending a day off being pretty bored. I hoped that maybe Doris would call with some great idea about how to spend another weekend in this godforsaken place.
After taking a shower, much time hadn’t passed before I heard a knock on my door.
“Good morning,” Belun said, looking at my damp hair.
“Oh, hi. Come on in.” He entered, dressed in dark colors and holding an iPad in his hand.
“I brought you online studies suggestions.” Belun wiggled the Apple gadget.
“Oh.” What a smart reply. “Wanna go for a coffee maybe?” I asked, not wanting to stay in the room anymore.
“Sure, okay.” I could see my question had surprised him a little.
So, for the second time we drove alone together. The first time was after that incident at Doris’s place. Now the snow had fallen and many things had changed, including me.
“You have an alternative to my morning running?” I asked.
“Gotten too cold?” he glanced at me.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“There’s always the punching bag,” Belun told me, flashing his beautiful white teeth and reminding me of last night’s Dracula. The movie hadn’t really shown any fangs or bites, not even the expected bite marks on the neck. Strange, since I thought bites were the most significant vampire insignia.
I secretly glanced at him, thinking that I’d never seen Belun or Doris with elongated canines. Nor anyone else, for that matter, except Baldur. Even during the Vocati attack, I didn’t remember seeing them. Well, I wasn’t myself then, so who knows—maybe I’d lost that particular memory somewhere in the blur.
“Punching bag. Not an entirely bad idea, but I could use some music in the gym, though.”
“Done.” He offered me another grin. It was nice to be with him in such an intimate space.
“Any specific place you want to go now?” he asked when we reached downtown.
“No, not really. I only know of one, anyway.” He nodded, and soon we parked near a restaurant with an unusually narrow door.
“The bar is downstairs,” Belun said as we entered.
“What music do they play?” We sat in the restaurant.
“Mostly jazz.” I guessed that he had remembered me mentioning the music of my childhood.
The restaurant was almost full and the patron’s voices mixed with the music. When a waiter came by, Belun ordered a grilled chicken and a beer, and, since I wasn’t hungry, I only asked for a blueberry juice.
“How was your movie night?” he asked, putting his elbows on the table. He looked really hot in a black button down shirt with that grin on his lips.
“Pretty boring.”
“It could have been even worse. They could have made you watch Nosferatu, a silent classic.”
“Jeez, that’d be torture, not a movie night!”
“Actually, it’s a great movie, but I believe you’d have fallen asleep as soon as it began. It’s a first screening of the novel Dracula.”
“No comment on that.” What’s with men and black-and-white movies? “Tell me, how does someone like you view those movies?” I was interested to hear from the original source.
“They’re fun, mostly. But what about you? Do you have a favorite vamp movie?” Too bad he hadn’t elaborated in his response.
“Not really. It’s not my favorite type, really.” Okay, that sounded awkward, considering who I was sitting with. “Movie type,” I clarified.
“So what’s your type then?”
“A thriller, drama, or a mystery. I usually skip horrors and comedies.” This was starting to sound like date talk. “What about you, any favorite movies?” I played, Hornby style.
“There’s many I like, but if I’d have to choose one it’d be Apocalypse Now by Coppola.”
This time I actually knew what movie he was talking about; nevertheless, I didn’t share the opinion. “I don’t like war movies.”
He laughed. “It’s anything but a war movie. It’s only a war setting—but the movie was inspired by Joseph Conrad’s novel Heart of Darkness.”
“I didn’t know that; the book’s good,” I replied.
“One of my favorite,” Belun said, taking a sip of his beer.
“So, you really are one of those people who actually has favorite things.” I remembered his teasing from a few days ago.
The waiter brought Belun’s grilled chicken, which smelled rather good.
“You didn’t tell me your side of the story about the incident in Oslo,” he said, elegantly cutting his chicken.
“Not much to tell. I wasn’t feeling much myself during the whole attack thing.”
Belun ate in silence, apparently waiting for details. And after a while, I cracked.
“I was upstairs.” An image of kissing Set flashed before my eyes. I was so gonna skip that part. “And suddenly I felt a strong piercing pain through my chest, like a spear stab or something. I knew something was wrong.”
Then I remembered screaming his name in my mind. At least, I hoped it was in my mind. But that part would be censored as well. “As soon as I heard the scream from outside, somehow I knew what I had to do. I ran downstairs and grabbed the gas can and the zippo. When I saw that Aidan and the girls didn’t seem under attack, I decided to help you first.”
“What do you mean when you say that you weren’t yourself? How did you feel?”
“Weird. As if I was stuck in a fog with someone who wasn’t exactly unfamiliar to me, and who knew how to solve the problem. It was like my body’s inability had restricted its full potential. A bit dramatic I know, but that’s how I felt. Who knows what happened when my adrenalin kicked in that high.”
“Well, you thought very strategically and clear-mindedly, which is absolutely incredible, considering everything.” He was shaki
ng his head slowly, and different colors of green crossed his eyes as he replayed the attacks in his mind. I didn’t wanna say, but my behavior hadn’t been as strategic as he thought. I would have run toward him no matter what danger the others were in.
“You started to shake like you had that day in the gym. But it was much worse. The fact that you couldn’t regain consciousness was absolutely terrifying. I don’t remember the last time I felt so scared.” He lowered his gaze to the plate, taking a last bite of chicken.
“Our helicopter support came and took you to the compound. We stayed and burned the bodies, looking around for any possible tracks. We went through everything from Oslo to Tromsø, and a bit farther north. The only thing we found were the leftovers of the Vocati you had torched, and farther ahead was a campsite they had made, not bothering to clean up after themselves. Tracks showed that all four of them had stayed in that place, which tells us that they were a team. But there’s no telling how and when they came.”
“Where did you get the helicopters?”
“We have them in the compound for emergencies.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Well, you don’t know all our secrets, do you?” He looked at me significantly.
“All the secrets? I don’t know any of them!”
“You know the big one.” Right, vampires are among us.
“That’s old news,” I replied casually. “But I’d like to know something. How old is Sango?”
It seemed that my question surprised him.
“As old as humanity, I guess.”
“What does that mean? 30,000 or 200,000 years?”
“Nobody knows that.” He gave a little laugh. “Maybe Udama does, but even that’s a long shot.”
Is it possible for one person to live that long? Through the entire human timeline? No way.
“Why do you ask?”
“Blake has some interesting theories. He’s writing a research paper that he’s going to present to Baldur.”
“What kind of theories?” he was intrigued.
“Well, it’s not up to me to spread his ideas, but let’s say he has an interesting presumption for his little project.”
Darkling Page 20
