We continued walking. The fog grew thicker, the air colder.
“Grab onto a stake,” Dominus said. “We are surrounded.”
In the next moment, sets of red eyes peered from the shroud of fog all around us. I set my hunter’s box next to a tall gravestone with an angel atop it, reached into my pockets and withdrew a stake in each hand. No time like the present to learn whether or not I was destined to be a vampire hunter.
“I guess, Forrest, that we’re not gonna have to wait until tomorrow night for more training. Now’s the time for you to keep your wits. I have to tell ya that I’ve never seen this much activity in one night, which only leaves one explanation.”
“What’s that?”
“Randolph truly hates you, and he’s sent these vampires to kill you tonight.”
I gave him a narrowed side-glance.
“Ah, now, don’t let it get to you,” he said with a wink. “We ain’t in this business to make any friends; just to put the undead back in the ground where they belong. Watch yourself.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The vampires standing around us weren’t fresh from the grave like the other four we had killed as a group. I didn’t have any idea what age these were, but there were at least a dozen of them standing in the perimeter around us.
Dominus said, “Should we survive this, you’re going to have to tell me exactly what you’ve done that pissed off the baron so sorely. Cause it certainly isn’t your total number of kills.”
Glancing around, I noticed the undead vampires gazing at us. I had attended one funeral outside of my mother’s, and I remembered how uncomfortable I had been seeing the dead body at the wake. The pallid skin tone. These standing around us held the same flesh tone except they breathed. Their eyes moved, watching, and some with reddish glows like a demon. Seeing a living corpse was unnerving, and had I already not been exposed to their existence, I’d have probably frozen.
Dominus looked serious, but his eyes held a bit of excitement like someone who hadn’t eaten for days being seated at a king’s table. His crossbow was loaded, but he really only had one shot to use effectively. With the number surrounding us, they weren’t going to allow him to reload the bow.
Two vampires were watching me from the shadows. Perhaps it was my massive size that made them hesitate, or they simply were sizing me up on how to attack since I held a stake in each hand and towered like an imposing wall.
Dominus’ crossbow twanged as the bowstring released and fired the arrow. Everything was happening so fast and unexpectedly since he had told me that we weren’t going to encounter any more vampires. He probably had one opportunity for a clear shot. I was nervous, but not as much as I probably should have been. I couldn’t waste my time determining how to defend myself. I simply needed to rely upon instinct.
Of course, Jacques’ words often hung in my mind about never allowing myself to be turned by a vampire. Dominus reinforced that by telling me about vampires that were former vampire hunters, and the dangers they imposed upon our survival.
Even though I didn’t have much hand-to-hand fighting experience, I reasoned that with my size and strength all I needed was to deliver accurate strong strikes. That didn’t mean I held any advantage over these vampires because I obviously didn’t. They were incredibly fast and the least of their physical force equaled my maximum, which is why hunters like us relied upon stakes and other tools to equalize the playing field.
I worried about my father and Jacques. They had left the cemetery to return to the cottage. Now we were divided, and we were weaker. As a group of four we could defend ourselves against this group of undead that surrounded Dominus and I.
Father was perhaps the weakest of us. And his battered hand had probably stiffened and was bruised, making any defensive fight more difficult, if not impossible, should the baron have sent vampires after them as well. But I wondered if my father had been correct in his logic. He had said that he was beating the young vampire to stir a rise of anger in the baron. The torture would make the master of the victim vampire step in to protect his offspring. The baron hadn’t appeared, but instead he had sent his lesser vampires to do the dirty work for him.
I was beginning to believe that the baron, although a master vampire, was more spineless than what a lesser vampire should be. He feared me a great deal; or rather he feared my possession of having a dagger, which could make him submissive to me. Needless to say, I didn’t feel his presence within the vicinity of where we stood surrounded by his underlings. He was too frightened to even make an appearance to see if his minions were successful in killing us or not.
This confrontation was a test for me, not Dominus. Dominus had already established himself as a hunter with well over a hundred kills, if I believed his boast, and I did. He was proficient, seasoned, and had scars that proved his combatant encounters weren’t all so gracefully quick and easy with the firing of a crossbow. With the crucial scars on his face, it wasn’t difficult to imagine that he probably had much worse disfigurements elsewhere on his body. There wasn’t any possible way to have his experience without having acquired battle scars as well.
The baron wasn’t one to offer a fair fight, but I never expected the undead to abide by any sets of rules or standards. He was given to finding his pleasures in torture, as he had with my father. The baron held no mercy. He thrived on prolonging agony for as long as possible. He fed on it, but apparently from a great distance. His thirst for blood, torture, and agony should have been no surprise because all vampires descended from the true vampire master who knew no limits to the devices of inflicting the most inhumane disfiguration in Romania’s history. The dragon himself: Vlad.
By all rights, my father should have died long before he crawled to our cottage door and knocked for help. But determination like his didn’t die easily. Though capable of walking now, my father would never be at one hundred percent like he had been before. His legs carried him, but slower and with great pain.
The baron had insisted through his human servant that he and I were now even, meaning after he had killed my mother. I regarded my sending the two hunters after him as the attack that made us even, but her murder was an instigation on nothing less than the brink of war between he and I.
Here was where I had miscalculated, the one violation on my part that I had not considered, and it occurred to me only moments before this impending fight outside of the cemetery ensued. When I had stood outside our cottage and defied his mind control, he viewed my lack of submission to him as a threat, and rightly so because I intended to kill him for what he had done to my father. In actuality, my defiance wasn’t an attack, but he viewed it as such. I’ll admit that it was an insult to him that I hadn’t yielded, but he had attacked my family first. And after my mother’s death, I’d never relent in my pursuit to turn the baron into dust.
Three vampires rushed through the fog directly at Dominus. They were blurs of movement, and I don’t understand how Dominus managed such an accurate shot within a mere second, but he shot one of the vampires through the heart. Its body crumbled less than a few yards from where Dominus stood.
Dominus dropped the bow and spun, which brought the long end of his coat upward like a windblown cape. He pulled something from his coat pocket and threw it at another vampire. The glass orb shattered against its face. The vampire shrieked, smoke and steam rose off its blistering face as the liquid ate its pale flesh like acid.
Holy water?
His left hand was balled like a fist. He flung it open at the scalded vampire’s face. A cloud of white powder clung to the vampire’s already melting skin. The powder intensified the pain, sending the vampire to its knees. It ripped and pulled away its flesh, trying to rid itself of the maddening pain. The third vampire watched in horror and slowed his pace toward Dominus.
I marveled at how Dominus moved in such a fluid-like motion, channeling an unseen force as he defied and challenged the powers of the undead. He had tapped into a surge that allowed him
to be one with all of his weapons. His mind, soul, and spirit reacted to his attackers without any hesitation. He calculated their approach and reacted in kind.
Dominus rushed toward the third vampire and drove a stake through its heart. Once it dropped to the street as a small pile of ash, he took the stake and killed the suffering vampire.
Two vampires came straight for me. My first instinctive reaction was a quick hammering punch, even though my fist was still enclosed around the stake. My thick fist struck the vampire in the center of its chest with enough force to knock it backwards. It stumbled back into the fog and fell over a tombstone, clutching its chest. Nice to know they could feel pain from such a punch.
Trying to mimic Dominus, I spun, but not elegantly or accurately like he had. The movement was foreign and clumsy to me. I suppose it never hurt to try something new, but it became obvious that I lacked his experience in fighting tactics. This was a spur of the moment motion on my part and not fully thought through. I suppose it took practice—a lot of practice—to perfect. And because I stumbled with the awkward movement, basically due to my massive size and overly large feet, I made myself dangerously vulnerable to my attackers.
As I pivoted full circle, the stake in my right hand caught the vampire in the side, a few inches beneath his ribs, but not in his chest as I had imagined. The sharp point went deep, a good six inches, but nowhere near his heart. The vampire replied with a harsh growl, hissed like a terrified cat, and gnashed his teeth but abandoned any thought of continuing his attack toward me. Instead, he yanked at my hand with his clawed fingers, trying to pull out the stake.
What I liked the most about the constructed stakes was the blunt ends were encased inside a pure silver grooved layer. Although the silver wasn’t deadly to a vampire in the way that it was to a werewolf, it was toxic in the sense that it prevented quick healing.
Since the baron enjoyed making others suffer, I thought why not return the favor? While he might not actually experience the pain that his spawns were suffering, he’d at least hear their anguished cries and hopefully recoil from his agony of losing more of his children.
I released the embedded stake in the vampire and tossed the one in my left hand over into my right. While the angered vampire was preoccupied and desperately tugging at the stake lodged in his side, I took both hands on the blunt end of my other stake and drove it through his heart. After he disintegrated, I plucked the other stake from off the ground and turned, ready to remain on the offensive.
A female screeched in agony. The strong smell of garlic lofted in the air. She raked her fingernails across her pale flesh above her cleavage. Bleeding ulcers foamed. Madness widened her dark eyes. No white was visible in her gaze, just the darkness of a frenzied soulless creature. Her fangs appeared, but her attention fixated on the growing holes on her chest.
Dominus tossed another handful of darts toward her. The metal tips embedded in her arms, her chest, and her face. Again, the strong garlic odor permeated the air. Some of the vampires near her, including the one I had hurled over a tombstone, darted and disappeared through the veil of fog while a few more braved an attempt to rescue her by intervening.
In a sense this was a familial reaction, to protect their own. They were a family, or as Dominus had described, a clan. They were more powerful in number, so they needed to prevent us from slaying them.
Dominus laughed, expelling a few obscenities that I supposed folks in America found offensive, but I didn’t have any understanding of what he meant by the words. Within a moment’s time, he drew two silver-plated swords and decapitated two of the male vampires before I ever saw him move. More surprisingly to me was from where had he drawn the swords? I didn’t even know he possessed them.
The female covered in garlic sobbed with her head in her hands. When she finally glanced up, the flesh of her face had peeled away, revealing only bone. The pale white bone of her skull gleamed in the faint moonlight. Her eyes were full black, and her beauty was gone.
She bore her fangs, shoved herself to her feet, and flung herself toward him. He stepped aside and extended a sharp sword in her path, nearly splitting her body in half. Before she uttered any further sounds, he spun and with the other sword, he decapitated her, ending her suffering.
I thought it odd that we were more merciful in eradicating the vampires than the master had been toward my father.
We were silent for several seconds. Both of us searched the rest of the foggy area, looking for movement. Nothing stirred, at least nothing within our line of vision.
Dominus looked at me with a wide grin on his face. “Well, Forrest, that was invigorating. Fighting alongside with you makes me regret that I stopped keeping my kill count.”
Invigorating seemed the appropriate word, even for me. A strange renewed energy rushed through me with each of the two vampires I had slain. It was difficult to explain the sensation. I felt like every muscle in my body had increased in size and strength. I supposed it was euphoria.
“Dominus,” I said, “I’d feel better if we headed toward my cottage.”
“Thinking that your father’s in trouble?”
“It has crossed my mind.”
“Seems possible, I suppose, since they waited to attack after we were separated. My guess is that the baron’s attention is more preoccupied on you than your father. But let’s go make certain.”
I nodded and turned to get my hunter box.
“Now,” Dominus said. “I need to point something else out to you.”
“Sure.”
“There’s a reason why a hunter doesn’t keep his box on him whenever we go searching for the undead. How much does that box weigh?”
“Not sure.”
“If it’s like mine, it probably weighs a good thirty pounds or more. That’s a lot to lug around. It’s an anchor you don’t need. You have a pretty nice coat, but you need to find yourself a better one that’s lined with numerous pockets. Every tool you have stored in your box, you should have the exact same thing tucked away on you, too. That way, you don’t have to dig through the box. Hell, make certain you don’t take it out during your hunts. Use the box to store your supplies or when you travel to other cities or countries.”
We walked down the narrow street, heading out of the city.
“The baron didn’t show up,” I said.
“Did you really think that he would?”
“As much as he hates me, eventually he’s going to.”
Dominus laughed, “Boy, he fears you for some reason. Vampire progeny tend to have an undying loyalty to protect their masters, even when that isn’t reciprocated.”
“I sensed the baron’s presence.”
Dominus stopped walking. He cocked a brow as he looked at me. “You’re sure?”
I nodded.
“How close?”
“He wasn’t close at all.”
“Your father was in his lair, correct?” Dominus asked.
“As best he understands.”
“I’m going to let you in on a secret. One of Dracula’s original fortresses rests underneath this city, buried long ago.”
Chills rushed up my arms.
Dominus nodded. “There are tunnels, rooms, and prison cells beneath some of the streets. Some of the tunnels are connected to others that will lead to the baron’s lair. You noticed how quickly the rest of the vampires vanished?”
“Yes.”
“They know the quickest access to those underground tunnels. Now, I told you that I wanted to ask you something after this little skirmish ended.”
“Okay?”
“So here it is. Do you have any idea why the baron fears you?”
“He fears what I can do to him,” I replied.
“And what can you do?”
I pulled open the right side of my jacket, revealing the dagger sheathed on my belt.
He frowned. “A dagger?”
“It has been blessed by a gypsy witch.”
“Blessed to do what exactly?
”
I explained to him what Jacques had told me.
“That’s a powerfully strong weapon, boy.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“With that in your possession, killing the baron won’t be nearly as impossible as I had imagined. But it still won’t be easy. I doubt the four of us could successfully fight our way through the baron’s lair to get near him.”
“You think there’s that many vampires?”
Dominus released a deep laugh. “There’s armies of them. Not necessarily in his lair, but the city has no shortage of vampires. You could spend your life here hunting nightly and not make a dent in their population. Your father is fortunate that he managed to escape the lair. I doubt any others ever have.”
“But if you kill the master—”
“If is a mighty large word for only two letters, son.”
Frustrated, I sighed and started walking. “There has to be a way.”
“Oh, there’s a way, but it will take far more than the four of us. There’s something you need to know about Baron Randolph.”
“What’s that?”
“He holds a seat with the city council, so he has a bit of authority in Bucharest. Most likely it’s compulsion that allows him such power and control. But you cannot convince the council of what he is. His allure is stronger than reason. Not only has he spilled blood to obtain his stature, he will never be challenged by them or removed from his seat. He’s like a devil reigning over the cathedral. He blinds others into thinking him holy.”
“So no public challenge will benefit us?”
Dominus shook his head. “No. And because he’s a vampire, he’s never seen in public during the day, which makes him more mysterious to the city residents. That’s why we hunters are predestined. We see through such guises, and we can detect the presence of vampires.”
“Does that develop over time?” I asked.
“What?”
“Detecting vampires?”
“You don’t now?”
I shook my head. “Not strongly. No.”
“Give it time. The more you fight them, the better you’ll adjust to their smell and actions. You said that you felt the baron’s presence.”
Forrest Wollinsky: Vampire Hunter [Book One] Page 17
