by Craig Zerf
Nathan turned to the gathering. Blood and gore dripped from him, running in rivulets down his face and chest, painting him red and then splashing to the floor and spreading out into a puddle of deep crimson viscousness.
“When He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, ‘Come.’ And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would slay one another.”
And he smiled. ‘You are all weak,’ said Nathan. ‘But you do not have to be. You whine over the fact that we have lost some of our finest…but you conveniently forget that we fought and defeated an attack from vastly overwhelming forces. Hundreds of Wolves and human Special Forces soldiers. For the loss of less than half of our number. And ultimately, we defeated them. We destroyed them. As we will destroy all who stand in our way.
Once again I say to you – our time has come. And from this night forth none shall remain unpledged. You are for me, or you are against me. I shall lead you into the shadows. Under a new moon we, the children of the night, shall prosper.’
Lord Tesla, an ancient and powerful elder who usually remained unseen, stepped forward. He was a manipulator but also a follower. ‘What of the Capo?’ He asked. ‘Has he approved?’
‘I will take care of the Capo,’ replied Nathan, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘All that you need to do is to do as I tell you. Will you follow?’
Lord Tesla took a knee. ‘Blood of my blood,’ he said. ‘I shall follow.’
As one the rest of the Nosferatu knelt before their new leader.
‘Blood of my blood. We shall follow.’
And Nathan smiled, his blood soaked lips pulling back to reveal his fangs.
‘Yes,’ he thought to himself. ‘It was time for him and his Bloodwraiths to travel to Italy. It was time to have a long chat with the Capo. It was time to show all of the brethren his plans for their future.
Chapter 4
The sound of a heartbeat dragged Emily/Vampire from her troubled sleep. Not her own heartbeat…someone else’s. She lay still for a while and attempted to detect her own and, just before she gave up, she noticed the faintest of murmurs. Like a bear in hibernation, its pulse slowed to a mere ten beats a minute.
She sat up and immediately the hunger hit her like a right hook. The sound of various heartbeats thundered in her head and the smell of blood assailed her nostrils. The hunger was more than just a simple need for sustenance. More than a physical need. It was a deep and unstoppable longing. Like her soul had been torn from her and only the consumption of human blood would bring it back, or at least fill the blackness that had been left behind.
She rocked back and forth, holding her head between her hands and squeezing as hard as she could in an attempt to gain control, keening softly as she did so.
There was a knock on the door and Tag walked in, his face showing his concern.
Emily flicked her head around. A lion about to take its prey down.
Tag stepped back but it was too late as Emily/Vampire launched herself across the room and latched onto his throat with her canines, savagely jerking her head from side to side as she sawed into his arteries and gulped down his blood.
Less than a minute later she cast him down and stared at the still body. And then, with a scream of disgust and self loathing, she ran from the room, sprinting through the kitchen and ripping open the door that led outside.
Sylvian shouted a warning but she paid him no heed as the abhorrence she felt due to her own actions drove her like a cattle-goad, spurring her to run from her inner turmoil.
It was only when she was actually outside that she realized that it was not quite yet twilight and a tiny sliver of red sun still poked above the horizon.
Immediately her exposed flesh burst into flame and the air was filled with the smell of burning flesh. She could vaguely hear Sylvian shouting for help as he too could not expose himself to UV light. She fell to her knees as more pain than she had ever before experienced washed over her. A veritable tsunami of agony poured through her, scorching her every nerve ending and piercing her brain with a lance of white hot electric torture. It literally felt as though her blood had turned to molten lava in her veins.
She felt someone pick her up and, as they did so, their clothes also caught alight, but whoever it was ignored the flames and ran inside with her in their arms. As they got out of the sun, Sylvian wrapped a blanket around them to smother the flames.
She was lowered gently to the floor and she looked up to see Troy above her, his face blistered and his hair burned short.
But as she looked, his hair grew back and the blisters on his face started to heal. At the same time she could feel herself healing, the ravaged flesh filling out and the skin re-growing. Less than a minute later she was whole.
She stood, keeping the blanket wrapped around her as most of her clothes had burned off.
Sylvian shook his head. ‘Well, Emily,’ he said. ‘I trust that we now see why I keep out of the sun?’
Emily smiled sheepishly. ‘I didn’t think,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to run. To get away.’
‘Not possible,’ countered Sylvian. ‘You cannot run from yourself because, surprise, surprise, when you get wherever you are going you’ll find that you’re still there.’
Emily raised an eyebrow. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
‘Yes it does,’ said Sylvian. ‘You just have to think about it for a while.’
Tag walked into the kitchen and set about fixing a pot of tea, his blood soaked shirt hanging in tatters about his shoulders. Emily noticed that he avoided eye contact with her, looking at the floor whenever she came close. And that made her feel terrible. Once again tears started to flow as the awful enormity of what she had become threatened to overwhelm her but she blinked fast and forced them to stop.
The big man put a mug of tea on the table and gestured for her to sit down. Emily did so and raised the mug to her lips. But she couldn’t take even a sip. The smell nauseated her and she started to gag. Obviously human blood was the only thing that could sustain her. The only thing that her body would accept.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Don’t be,’ said Tag. ‘You poor thing. How you gonna live a full life without tea? That’s like the saddest thing, man.’
Emily smiled weakly and Tag gave a thumb up. ‘That’s my girl,’ he said encouragingly.
Merlin and William walked in and Troy told them about Emily’s near miss with her sunlight excursion.
‘Are you okay?’ Asked Merlin.
Emily nodded, then she shook her head. ‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘What can I say? I have become one of the very monsters that I have sworn to kill. I am everything that disgusts me. Lower than the lowest form of life.’
‘No,’ disagreed the magician. ‘You are what you decide to be. You are the sum total of your deeds. Your actions will dictate if you are a monster, not your physiological status.’
‘Well at the moment my actions seem to dictate that I attack Tag every time that I’m hungry. I can’t stop myself, it’s like I’m no longer me.’
‘In many ways you aren’t,’ said Sylvian. ‘But the hunger will become less intense, or so I’ve heard. It will never stop but you will feel the need to feed much less frequently.’
‘Good to that,’ said Tag. ‘I tell you, getting your throat torn out on a daily basis ain’t no sorta fun at all.’
‘Sorry,’ offered Emily, her voice small and quiet.
‘Ain’t nothing to be sorry about,’ answered Tag. ‘Ain’t be your fault that you got bit. It be my fault. Just saying, that’s all, the neck thing stings a bit.’
‘When can we start hunting the enemy again?’ Asked Emily.
‘We need to formulate some sort of plan first,’ answered William. ‘We took a savage beating in our last encounter. Lost most of the Purebloods plus three Wolves. I’ve already sent a few Pack members to scout out the manor house and they hav
e reported that the Vamps have vacated it completely. No idea where they all went. But one thing is for sure, we dealt them a heavy blow so I doubt that they’ll be very active for a while.’
Emily shook her head. ‘They will be active sooner than you think. Firstly, they have to feed and, secondly, you should have seen Nathan. He’s obsessed. I could see the fire of ambition burning in his eyes. The hatred for humanity and the way that he thinks that he’d been treated.’
‘What do you mean?’ Asked Merlin. ‘He was treated the same as every other Shadowhunter, with respect and friendship.’
‘Not the way that he saw it,’ said Em. ‘He saw himself being sidelined. Losing the power that he once wielded. Also he saw me as part of the usurping of that power. And trust me, he is going to do anything that it takes to become a major force in the world. I would bet my bottom dollar that, right now, he is preparing to further his plans.’
‘Well then perhaps the only thing that we can do is react,’ said William. ‘Wait and see what happens next and then make a plan.’
‘No,’ shouted Emily as she stood up. ‘We can’t wait. We need to attack. To kill. We need to hunt.’ She smashed her fist down on the kitchen table splitting the two inch thick ancient Oak as she did. Her eyes glowed red and her fangs protruded as she held her fist out in front of her. ‘They must all die. I shall rip them to shreds and rend their flesh.’
Sylvian took a step forward and slapped Emily hard across the face. She staggered back and growled.
‘Control,’ commanded the Frenchman. ‘Respect yourself, Emily Hawk,’ he continued. ‘And respect those around you. Concentrate. You are stronger than this.’
Emily took a deep breath and calmed down. ‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘It’s like something takes over. Any emotion turns into the need for blood and death. It’s almost impossible to stop.’
‘Almost,’ said Sylvian. ‘But you can do it.’
Emily nodded. ‘I can at least try.’
Sylvian nodded. ‘Good.’
The door banged open and the Prof strode in. He held up a bag. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Damned stupid of me not to have done this straight away. Sometimes the most obvious solutions can evade one. Wood for the trees type of thing.’
‘What are you blathering about?’ Demanded Merlin.
‘This,’ answered the Prof.’ Bag of blood. Got it from one of the drivers. One hundred percent human. The Vampire girl can feed on this.’
‘My name is Emily. Not Vampire girl.’
The Prof ignored Emily’s correction as he offered her the IV bag. ‘Try it,’ he urged. ‘Just use the IV line like a straw and suck the contents out. Hey presto – no problems.’
Emily lifted the bag tentatively to her mouth. Her lips closed around the tube and she sucked, grimaced and spat. A gob of blood hit the floor with a splat.
‘Urgh! It’s dead,’ she said.
‘What do you mean,’ asked the Prof. ‘I’ve just drawn it.’
Em shook her head. ‘I’m sorry…but it’s vile. Lifeless. I can’t drink it.’
‘But when we attacked the Vampires I saw a room full of bags of blood,’ said William. ‘They were drinking them. So why can’t you?’
Emily shrugged.
‘She’s different,’ said Merlin. ‘She’s a Shadowhunter.’
‘So is Nathan.’ Quipped William.
‘Well maybe he can’t drink donated blood either. But she’s not Nathan. She has passed over to the realms of Charon and returned. Mayhap that makes a difference. Who knows? It’s not like we have any precedents to work with here.’
‘I heard that drinking dead blood can make Vamps real sick,’ interjected Tag.
‘Really?’ Asked Merlin. ‘Where from?’
Tag looked down. ‘Umm…Interview with a Vampire. You know, the Tom Cruise movie.’
Merlin shook his head. ‘Really?’
Tag shrugged. ‘Hey, it’s a theory.’
‘Can I go outside yet?’ Asked Emily.
Sylvian nodded. ‘I’ll come with you.’
The two of them left the room and went outside. The sun had fully set and the forest was alive with the sound of the nocturnal creatures coming to life. Fireflies and Carabid beetles. Moths and owls, foxes and badgers.
Emily cocked her head to one side. ‘Can you hear them?’ She asked. ‘The insects. The animals.’
Sylvian shook his head. ‘Not as clearly as you.’
‘Why? Aren’t you a Vampire? Well, sort of a Vampire.’
‘I’ll let that one go,’ said Sylvian. ‘Considering the unique circumstances that we are in. But no, I am Bloodborn. Apart from the sun thing and the enhanced strength and longevity I am not sort of like a Vampire. The defining thing with a Vampire is their need for human blood. I prefer Fois Gras and duck a l’orange. Your senses are enhanced so that you can seek out life. You can sense the living whereas my senses are simply superhuman as opposed to supernatural.’
‘So what you are saying,’ responded Emily. ‘Is that my senses have been heightened for one single purpose.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Sylvian. ‘You are an entity that exists purely to kill and feed. It is your raison d'être.’
Emily sighed and scanned the forest around her, picking out the small scurrying animals as she did so. ‘Let’s walk,’ she said.
The two of them wondered aimlessly through the forest, silent. Together but alone. Emily noticed that as she approached an area it went quiet as the living beings there went to ground and lay still. She commented on it to Sylvian.
He nodded. ‘They sense the ultimate predator. So they hide.’
‘But I wouldn’t hurt them,’ argued Emily. ‘Anyway, hiding does them no good. I can still hear their heartbeats. Sense their blood.’
‘Perhaps you wouldn’t harm them,’ shrugged the Frenchman. ‘But they don’t know that. They seek only to survive. If it makes you feel any better, the same thing happens to the Wolves. Where they go all other animals either hide or run. The difference being that if some errant badger or fox does challenge them they kill it. Very territorial our lupine brothers.’
Emily thought for a while. ‘So have you ever seen a sunrise,’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ answered Sylvian. ‘Well, strictly speaking, no. But I have seen movies, TV, photos.’
‘Not the same, though.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ pointed out the Frenchman. ‘I’ve been living a night time life for so long now, plus the fact that it’s all that I’ve ever known. It’s no big deal. I spent three years in Vegas once, never went outside except for moving to a new hotel, which I did at night.’
‘Why?’
‘Lot of Vamps in Vegas. Good hunting grounds.’
‘But it’s still very different for you,’ noted Emily. ‘As you say, apart from the sunlight thing you are ostensibly human. You eat human food, drink wine, coffee. When you enter a room you see people…I see dinner. It’s overwhelming. The smell of blood, the pounding of their hearts.’
‘It will lessen,’ said Sylvian.
‘To what extent?’ Asked Emily.
‘I don’t know. All that I know is that you will gain some semblance of control over the hunger. Unless…’ Sylvian left the rest of his sentence unsaid.
‘Unless what,’ asked Em.
Again the Frenchman shrugged in his characteristic way. ‘Nothing. Conjecture.’
‘Conjecture about what?’
‘You are different. The whole ex-Shadowhunter, passing through Deaths realm. In all fairness, I have no real idea how things will change for you. You are stronger, faster. Perhaps your hunger is reflected in this. Perhaps you will always need to feed more desperately than a normal bloodsu…sorry…Vampire. I don’t mean to be the harbinger of doom and despair but I believe that you prefer honesty to sugar-coating.’
‘If something doesn’t happen soon I don’t know if I can continue,’ said Emily. Her voice little more than a whisper. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, Sylvian. I spend eve
ry waking moment hating what I have become and dreading the next time that Tag offers himself to me. I can’t even remember feeding but I know that it must be terrible for him. He no longer looks me in the eye and he flinches from me whenever I get close to him.’
‘He will be fine,’ reassured Sylvian. ‘He is strong, both mentally and physically. As are you.’
Emily shook her head. ‘Not as strong as you think,’ she said. ‘If things don’t change in the next few days…’
She didn’t continue and Sylvian didn’t push her as they turned for home, walking back in silence.
As they left the forest the night animals struck up their various choruses of life affirmation once again.
Relieved that the ultimate predator was no longer amongst them.
Happy to be left alive.
Chapter 5
Wachmeister Dietz Muller of the Papal Guard navigated the twisting corridors with a speed that spoke of intimate knowledge. His rubber soled boots made no noise on the polished marble floors as he appeared to glide rather than step, such was the grace of his movements.
He was not wearing the usual Swiss Guard uniform of blue, red, orange and yellow that had been created in back in 1914. Nor had he donned the black tunic and red breaches of the Sergeant, or Wachmeister. Instead he wore a simple blue overall with a brown leather belt and brown boots.
He carried no visible weaponry.
Finally he came to a set of large double doors of thick Oak, the brass handle worn crooked from countless centuries of use, the wood almost black with age. He pushed them open and strode into a high ceilinged room with wood paneled walls and flagstone floor. Priceless ancient Turkish carpets covered most of the floor and the walls boasted various paintings of old masters. Da Vinci’s, Bellini’s and Donatello’s. Unseen by public eye for many generations. Millions of Dollars of forgotten art in a room that perhaps twenty people a year frequented. The casual wealth of the Roman Catholic Church.
