“Eet ees always three,” Francisco agreed.
“Who’s the third?” I grumbled.
“Eet ees always the same; a hunter, a witch, and a vampire.”
There were only two of them I knew. “Is Radu awake yet? I have questions for him, too.”
The shaman just shook his head no.
That meant the answer was Julia. I knew she was in Europe, hunting Jean Pollard as we had planned, but I hadn’t heard anything from her in months. Not that I expected to; part of her mission was to go undercover and infiltrate the church.
It hit me. Vlad’s vengeance within me, Perun’s warning, my oath to go after everyone involved in my family’s downfall - I was going down the path that Satan had wanted me to. No wonder Perun made me sleep off my anger that one night. As a fallen angel, he probably knew my fate as clear as day. Even still, he supplied me with gear to take down Koenig.
If I ever saw him again, I’d give him a proper thanks.
“If we’re talking about Julia, I imagine she’d been in Italy, somewhere around the Vatican. Her mission was to eliminate the church’s high inquisitor, Jean Pollard from the equation.”
Emma hissed as soon as I said that name. “Pollard, that evil vile man pretending to be holy. We have suffered cruel fates at his hand,” she revealed.
A common enemy, that would come in handy. “The caravan,” I said more to myself than anyone else. “If we stick close to the sea and travel at night, the caravan can take us to Italy. Protection in a large group, you know?”
“Only if you promise that we will see Pollard’s dead body,” Emma requested.
“Deal.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
**Northern Italy; 1942 the year of our Lord**
S pring was about to turn into summer when the caravan crossed the Italian border. The months traveling with Emma’s caravan had been spent learning more about the Dracul side of my family with almost nightly lessons with the head gypsy. Nights that weren’t spent with her were spent with Luka and Cassie, with my grandfather leading me through tales of the Brinza clan and Cassie helping me to harness Vlad’s darkness without letting it take control.
The two went hand in hand.
Every so often my father, David, would stand in for Luka. These nights, few and far between, were even more special as my dad told me about his time with my mother and the love that they experienced. We didn’t discuss the tragedy any longer, just focused on the happiness.
The other topic that was off limits was my impending role as the Antichrist. A few times Cassie tried to strike up a conversation about it; Luka would try to get a feeling for how I was doing, and so forth. I just had nothing. I felt numb every time someone wanted to discuss it. After a few weeks of getting absolutely nothing from me, everyone pretty much dropped it. It was in the back of my mind, like a little bug I could never swat away. At least if I didn’t acknowledge it, I didn't have to deal with it.
Yet.
Two nights before we crossed the border, one of the gypsy scouts returned to the caravan with news. The church had sent an execution party out to put an end to what they assumed was a coven working with Hitler. In reality, they were a group of Wiccans who just wanted to worship whatever hocum they did. But they did it peacefully and that’s all that anyone could ask for. We weren’t going to let any harm come to them.
Our problem was just how far into Axis Powers territory we were. We were well up to date with the World War brewing and Italy was one of Hitler’s biggest allies. Platoons of both Italian and Nazi regimes could be seen from our vantage point in the mountains as we traveled. We did our best to avoid those areas and stay off the beaten trail. However, our plan to openly attack the church when they went after the Wiccans could put us right into the crosshairs of some very unfriendly fire. We had to be very careful and prepared.
“We are two nights out from the Wiccan camp,” Nicholae told us. We were sitting around the fire and he was one of the few gypsies, besides Emma, who conversated with us on a regular basis. Probably because he was one of the few who could speak English.
I poked the fire with the steel rod used for cooking meat. Nicholae was just a year or two older than me, but he had a wife and children. He had a family; he had no reason to take part in this. “You just stay here, got it?” I told him.
“I have been to this section of the Alps many times in my travels. I am the best scout to lead you there.”
Great, another stubborn party. “You ain’t going out there to die. You watch your babies grow up and live a life that’s free from this violence.”
Nicholae wasn’t to be persuaded. “Emma has agreed that I need to lead the party. So it is said, Castor.”
He got up and walked away, leaving Cassie and I to our own devices. “It is very sweet the way you care about someone you barely know.”
“Love thy neighbor and all,” I muttered.
She rested her head on my shoulder. “From this moment on, it changes, you know?”
“We declare war of the church and try to take down the backbone of the Nazi regime. I got it; it’s going to be a hard road ahead.”
“Not just that,” she went on. “This is when the wheels of fate begin spinning. We’ve kept separate from everything, from Thailand to our time with Perun. When we return to the world at hand, neither of us will be able to escape what fate has in store.”
It was plain to see what she was hinting around at. “You mean what fate has in store for me. You’re not good at beating around the bush,” I laughed.
“You’ve barely said two words about it since that night. How can you basically ignore the fact that you’ve been cursed in such a way?”
Cassie was much more passionate about this than I was. “What do you expect me to say? Golly gee wilikers, it sucks that my family went and did something so stupid and now I have to pay the price?” I went on about. “It’s my problem to deal with and I’ll handle it when the time comes.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’ll kill myself before I let anything bad happen to this world,” I answered very seriously.
Cassie gasped. “Suicide?!” she hissed.
“Ain’t nothing going to stop me from putting a slug in my head should I go bad. I felt the hatred before, back at Perun’s. Knowing what that means, nope, ain’t going to let it happen.”
“You won’t go to Heaven, according to your beliefs,” she reminded me.
I was well aware of the consequences. I also knew what would happen if I didn’t stop myself; lakes of fire, untold death, pain and suffering. Nope, the right choice was always the easy one. “I mean I don’t want to kill myself,” I assured her. “I’m just not going to let Vlad ever win, through me or what.”
She leaned over and planted the biggest kiss I’d ever received smack dab on my lips. And she continued, not stopping. It was the closest I’d ever felt to someone and here we were in the middle of a gypsy camp kissing like lovestruck fools.
We were lovestruck fools.
Cassie took my hand and we left the common area, away from prying eyes and muffled comments.
**Nazi Germany; 1942 the year of our Lord**
“Otto, I am beginning to wonder if Grigori was the man for the job,” I sighed.
“The Russian came highly recommended with certain circles. If he fails, it will not be a black eye upon you, Gerhard.”
I smiled upon my dearest friend. Otto was one of the only people in this world who understood the commitment it took to make such progress. He understood the sacrifices that were required to make Vlad Dracul’s final wishes a reality. With the might of the German Empire behind us, we would see this through.
Another round of soldiers had just been deployed to join with the Seventh Reich. “I have been thinking,” I said.
“Do tell,” he encouraged me.
“The Jackal has been doing so well that I thought we could do even more. How many more vials of Radu’s blood do we have left?” I inquired.
“Seven,” Otto answered promptly.
That would be just enough. “Go gather the final corpse. We will send one last chess piece out into the world. Little do they know we’ve been holding onto our queen for just the right time.”
Otto rubbed his hands eagerly and did as I commanded. Soon, the entire world would know of the righteous horrors I planned to expose them to.
**Northern Italy; 1942 the year of our Lord**
The five of us; me, Cassie, Nicholae, and two of Emma’s best men, were crouched down. Nicholae had led us to the Wiccan’s camp and it seemed as if all was well. There were no signs of the church or any inquisitors. The problem was the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach, something bad was coming and it was coming this way fast. We stayed in position, hoping that maybe all would be for naught tonight.
One of the men whose name I didn’t know said something to Nicholae. “They want to know how much longer we’re going to wait. They think we should go down and talk to the Wiccans and have them evacuate.”
Of course they did. They didn’t like having to take orders from a Westerner. “When I say we’ll go, we’ll go,” I said sternly.
Nicholae translated my latest command and it was met with a few grumbles. Knowing I only had maybe ten minutes tops before a revolt, I relented a bit. “If nothing happens in a few moments, we’ll go down and tell them to leave.”
Something that appeased them, it was a miracle. “I’m starting to think along their lines too, Castor.”
“I know, Cassie.”
Nothing happened for a few more minutes and I was about to relent when a lone figure walked out of the woods on the opposite side of the ridge. His silver armor stuck out in the pale moonlight, as did his smug smile.
Jean Pollard.
A magnificent weapon hung at his side; one I was very familiar with. That bastard was wearing the Sanctae Crucis. There was only one way he could’ve gotten his hands on that; by prying it out of Julia’s cold, dead hands. I began to see red. I didn’t even pay attention to the legion of inquisitors that lined up behind him. I only had eyes for Pollard.
“Castor…”
“No,” my voice went deep, cold. “There is only Death here.”
Fiery pillars erupted from all around me. The gypsies and Cassie all jumped away from me as I tore through the trees around us, making my way towards the High Inquisitor himself. It didn’t take Pollard long to see that there was an even bigger threat coming his way. The Wiccans were to be an example; I knew how the church worked. However, tonight, Pollard and his apostates were the examples. I hoped the Lord looked down and watched as I ripped them from this very existence, making a mockery of His name and the fact that they served him.
“Pollard!” I roared in my unholy voice. “Face me in open battle, you coward!”
He pointed my family’s sword at me, the cold fiend. Three men drew their swords and began crossing the ridge to get to me. They’d never make it. Bullets pierced their helms and blood flew as each shot was true, right through their forehead. I took out two other men who hadn’t even moved yet. They made their fate when they chose to follow this heathen.
“Castor Brinza,” he called, not even fazed by the death of his men. “Stop this slaughter immediately or she dies.”
He stepped aside to show me a beaten and bloodied Julia. She was alive, but they’d done terrible things to her. In an instant, whatever was left of me, whatever sliver was holding off Vlad’s corruption gave in and started the clock to Armageddon.
Chapter Thirty
I was back on the family house’s front porch. It’d been a good long time since the last time I actually visited the world between the living and the dead. However, it wasn’t Luka who was standing at the other end, it was my father, David Brinza. Unlike Luka, there was less of an impish charm to my dad, he had more features like Abigail. But, just like his father before him, he had kind eyes and a resolve that rivaled anyone’s.
“Things got a bit hot out there, didn’t they?” my father asked.
“Family’s my weakness, ain’t it?”
He just smiled at me. “A boy who never knew his parents and a young man who discovered the horrors that took his family? I would be surprised if you didn’t react the way you did,” he said simply.
When it was put like that… “Still, my bad decision is going to lead to a lot of bad things?”
“Oh?”
“C’mon Dad, I just let it go without even trying to stop it. The image of Julia there, it just killed my heart. I’d already lost so many to those bastards and then, wham, you actually see it happening…”
His hand found my shoulder. “Your mother saw something in that witch. Let’s just see if maybe, just maybe, that fate will intervene again and prevent bad things from coming.”
I got the feeling that if something were to happen, it wasn’t going to happen soon. I sat down on one of the rockers and took a deep breath. Even though this wasn’t really El Paso, the warm spring air still filled my lungs. A few fireflies could be spotted down by the big oak tree in the front yard. My dad took a seat beside me and seemed to relax.
“I would have done the same for Julia, you know? She and Abigail raised me as they raised you. I’m hoping one day, you’ll get to raise your own children.”
That was the furthest thing on my mind. “Kids, please. The less suffering, I can bring into this world, the better. No child deserves to go through what we did,” I said.
He just rocked beside me, his actions betraying his physical age. “You say that now, but one day, you’ll get the bug. You’re still young, full of worldly wonder and distrust. Wait five years and you’ll see.”
“I doubt I got five years, Dad.”
“You’re still thinking about doing something stupid.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
“The moment Cassie brings me back to my senses, even if for a moment,” I concurred.
For the first time, my dad gave me a look that scared me. “Doing what you think you need to will only make things worse. Your ending will not be a good one,” he told me.
“What I’m doing now ain’t good, Dad.”
I began to feel a tug in my gut. Was this Cassie? “Son, you don’t know everything. Fate is not set in stone and there are factors still in play that haven’t even been revealed. Be a good man, a kind man, and never give up on yourself and those who love you.”
The tug got stronger. “I’ll do my best, Dad.”
“That’s all your mother and I care about, my son.”
****
The next time my eyes opened, I was covered in blood. “Castor, is that you?”
My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. “What happened?” I asked, knowing I probably wouldn’t like the answer.
Cassie sat me up. Fire was burning everywhere; there were no signs of the gypsies who came with us nor the inquisitors. I could hear screaming, people were scared and fleeing. Then, I heard the sound of blade against blade; two people were engaged in a duel closeby. Could Julia be free and have the Sanctae Crucis?
“The vampire is free, but she is in no condition right now to fight,” Cassie explained, as if she read my mind. “Before I could free you, I had to place a spell over the inquisitors with especially weak minds to attack Pollard. He’s almost killed them all by now, but Julia is safe with the gypsies. I need you to stand up and fight him, Castor.”
That last little bit came out as a stern command. I pushed myself up. My guns were still on me as well as the flail. “Does he have the Sanctae Crucis?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s high time I go get it back.”
I walked through the burning brush to see Pollard stab his man through the chest plate. Littered around him were many dead bodies, most appeared to have either been killed by a beast or himself. His head was still not covered by any helm, so he made it a point to stare me down as I approached. “Your witch has cost me greatly, almost as greatly as you have,” he wheezed i
n his thick French inflection.
“You have something that belongs to my family, Pollard.”
He pointed the Sanctae Crucis at me. “This belongs to those who serve God, not those who blasphemy His name.”
“You just made my own point. The Brinzas serve God. You’re an apostate.”
He lashed out at me, swinging the sword with wild abandon, two, no three times in my direction. He missed, poorly, but he was successful in one thing. Pollard was a fantastic swordsman and even in his rage, his technique was still quite good. I whipped out my flail and swung it around, causing him to back up out of distance. This would be an interesting chess match between a long-range specialist and a shot range swordsman.
Pollard seemed to cool off as he began to assess the situation. He tried to move closer again, only to get cut off by the copper chain Perun had so carefully crafted into my weapon. Something crossed his face as he watched the chain retract into the handle.
“You have met Perun.”
I didn’t confirm nor deny his statement. Instead, I pulled one of the guns out and fired off a round at him. He took the Sanctae Crucis and swatted the copper slug out of the air like a fly. He dashed forward, the blade’s point sticking straight out as he tried to impale me. I snapped the flail’s handle and the chain wrapped around the blade and I was able to jerk him to the right to miss me. The chain went loose and came back. Pollard hacked downward from his new angle, only to be met by the flail’s hilt.
“You’ve improved,” he growled, pushing down.
“You’ve stayed the same,” I taunted.
I let my arm go fluid which caused Pollard to stumble forward. I drove my elbow into his back, hitting the silver armor he was wearing. The move wasn’t meant to cause pain but to accelerate his fall to the ground. It worked as his head slammed on the rocky terrain, splitting open his forehead. Blood trickled down his face.
Rise of the Seventh Reich Page 17
