Liszka growled, pouring her teacup full of milk and drinking it straight. The Fives didn’t have any cows and she clearly enjoyed the treat. “You don’t believe me,” she accused. “I wouldn’t come out here for idle gossip.”
“Yes, well,” Caleb smiled, “our kind do tend to be hyperexcitable, don’t we?”
“Hyperexcitable,” she snarled without irony. “Would you rather believe a vampire?”
As he was quite incapable of answering that question, Liszka growled again and said, “You are one sick puppy, Lupeni.”
“It isn’t that I don’t believe you,” he assured her as calmly as he could. Her challenge unsettled him; she obviously knew all about his friendship with a vampire. “But what powerful wizard vampire would run around at full moon with a werewolf in tow?”
She had no answer to that, but she and Sasha did know that Vlad possessed more information about the castle than he could probably learn on his own or by spying on the Fives’ conversations. He knew that it was difficult for vampires to get in, had even said something about “wards” and “Jupiter.”
“The vampire may know some way to get a werewolf into the castle, even if he can’t get himself in,” she suggested hesitantly, looking around the room as if the magical wards would be visible. Apart from the ubiquitous hanging braids of garlic, and a few strategically placed mirrors that might have served in happier times for dancing couples to improve their steps, there was nothing that suggested the castle presented any barriers to the Undead.
Caleb was finally beginning to share Liszka’s concern, but only a little. Werewolves were magical creatures like wizards, and wouldn’t be able to get past the wards. Even if they did get in, there wasn’t any way as far as Caleb knew for them to open the gates to vampires. Of course, his knowledge of the Jupiter wards remained weak. He had given up on planetary magic, and Alexandru had despaired as well, the whole idea a sore spot between them.
Even assuming the wards weren’t threatened, there was a puzzle here, and the pieces didn’t fit together: Mike’s encounter with a “spider,” twice; Lamia; “powerful vampires,” plural. Although Lamia had never hinted that she knew of the castle—and he couldn’t imagine that she did—her powers would make her attractive to other vampires, possibly even the dreaded Cuza.
He had to ask Lamia, although he knew that this was just an excuse to see her again. Even sitting here with the beautiful Liszka he could only think of the other—cool and sinuous as opposed to hot and muscular, intellectual as opposed to cunning, mindful rather than precipitous.
He had to stop the reverie before it led down wholly inappropriate paths. “I won’t be too useful against wizards once the full moon rises,” Caleb admitted, “but I suppose I could stand outside the castle at sunset.”
“We’ll come too,” Liszka declared.
It was said unsentimentally, but it was the highest compliment she could have paid him. Perhaps she just wanted to get her paws on Vlad, but Caleb was touched nonetheless. A cruel former Alpha would be shunned or killed, like Vlad. One who had been respected would be tolerated on occasion, like a crotchety old grandparent who still deserves a Sunday afternoon visit. But for the pack to come to the defense of an ex-leader meant that they considered him both exceptionally kind and wise.
“If Vlad were to get into the castle, Al-…the other wizards would kill him,” he began, then stopped as a terrible idea hit him.
They both frowned, thinking the same thing: if Vlad got in, so might they. Alexandru might not even recognize Caleb, never mind believe that he was there to defend the castle. And, of course, Caleb would bite Alexandru, given the opportunity.
“Do they have any weapons that could hurt us?” Liszka asked, shrinking in apprehension from this cozy room that was suddenly a hunter’s lair.
No wizard’s curse could kill a werewolf in wolf form, but Caleb was certain Alexandru had a supply of silver bullets somewhere. He wondered about the ethics of finding them and disposing of them before the full moon, but that really wasn’t a discussion he cared to have with Liszka, whose attitudes he knew full well. “It’ll be OK,” he reassured. “I’ll take care of it.”
After she left, it only took him a few minutes to make the decision. Liszka was willing to risk her life to help him—and to risk Bela’s life, too. Caleb couldn’t stop thinking of the boy, who he still thought was too young to take part in the pack’s more dangerous escapades. Alexandru had killed werewolves before, and from everything he’d said on the subject, the old wizard was none too contrite. Caleb had no right to expose the Fives to that.
Mihail was still locked in his room, where he would probably remain for several hours. Alexandru was out, in the village, maybe, or off on one of his solo hunts for Cuza. Apart from the servant’s bedroom, then, Caleb had the run of the castle, and he made haste to search it before the old wizard appeared.
It was difficult for him to move silver magically, but not to find it. When he concentrated, stepping slowly about a room with eyes half-closed and senses extended, the lunar metal raised the hair on the back of his neck. As he crept closer, it began to burn his hand. He was sweating as he approached Alexandru’s massive oak desk in the library.
There was a single box of silver bullets in the topmost drawer and it was half empty. Gripped with a sudden rage, Caleb made a thorough investigation of every room in the castle, including the upstairs where the stench of vampire still lingered. He tiptoed on the crumbling stairs, hoping Mihail wouldn’t hear his footsteps—and hoping, too, that the servant didn’t possess a cache of weapons along with his pots of aconite.
Except for Mihail’s room, Caleb had been exhaustive in his search; still, he had a nagging sense that he was forgetting something. He reexamined the silver he had found. Apart from a few spoons, a goblet, and some jewelry, the single box of bullets was the only silver he found that could hurt anyone. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided the other objects were harmless.
He took the half-empty box and pitched it down the mountainside.
32. Addicted to Blood
The waxing moon shone weakly through the trees, lurking there and waiting until the sun went down to rule the night. Lamia watched the American vampire-hunter go, rising on his gust of Wind and briefly cutting across the moon, off to wherever it was that he lived.
After only three weeks, she knew Lupeni better than she had any lover in the last fifty years, except perhaps one. But there were many things they still kept from one another. She avoided saying where exactly she was from and did not mention her thirty years’ stay at the castle. And he did not tell her where he lived or why he had come to this country.
Did it matter? Perhaps all that mattered was to touch him and to feel his touch.
Lamia ambled through the trees back towards the camp, her thoughts still on Lupeni. His fingers were rough, although so very gentle when they caressed her. But his hands had killed her kind on more than one occasion, and could kill her just as easily. When he touched her, she felt pleasure, raw and powerful, and the distant echo of something else, a sweet and tantalizing nothingness. He could give her either.
What did she want?
As the sun set, bats began pouring out of the caves, squeaking eagerly in anticipation of the evening’s hunt. She looked up through the leafy canopy and saw them darkening the deep blue sky. Not since she was a little girl had she been frightened by bats. Lately, though, the sight of them only served to remind her of Cuza. She had not talked to him in over a month, but she was sure that he was the bat she saw nearly every afternoon, spying on her.
Odd that he had stayed hidden for so long. That didn’t seem like him.
She could deal with Cuza, she felt sure. But Lupeni…The desire she felt for him reverberated inside her, ever present, never entirely silent. The ageless song of hunger and fulfillment. The song of the vampire.
Possess the one you love forever, that was what drove vampires to bite once, twice, then three times. She thought of former lovers
: Ioncu, Stephen, Christoph. She had made them hers forever, or so she thought. But it never seemed to work out somehow. She grew bored with them, and they with her. In the case of poor Christoph, becoming a vampire drove him insane. Perhaps it was better that she couldn’t possess Lupeni in that way.
“Lamia? Did you hear what I just said?” An irritated voice jolted her out of her reverie. She hadn’t even noticed that she had wandered back into the camp. Now a peeved Vijay stood before her, trying to get her attention.
“What?” she mumbled. “Did you say something?”
“Remind me never to fall in love,” he snorted derisively, then seemed to recall his purpose in life, saying, “You said you would help me set up tonight’s experiment, remember?”
“Yes. I don’t want you up in the caves by yourself,” she replied with slightly more composure.
“I am willing to humor you,” he frowned, clearly not believing as Mike did that danger abounded in the mountains. “But let’s get started on some reasonable time scale. Minutes, not centuries.”
“Of course,” she said more crisply. “I’ll just get my things.” Happily, Vijay headed back to the pavilion as she called, “But wait for me before you go up there!”
First, though, she should check on Mike, make sure that he was in his tent with plenty of garlic. The thought of the American physics student as a vampire made her shudder. He would become even more irritating, she was sure, and his jokes wouldn’t improve either.
“Mike? Are you in there?” She called from outside his tent. The stench of garlic was strong and kept her from going in.
“Yes, Mother,” came Mike’s grinning reply as he stuck his head out through the tent flap. “Come to tuck me in? Kiss me goodnight?”
She had to laugh in spite of herself. Mike had not lost his sense of humor after all that had befallen him. She admired him for that.
“Hey, I borrowed a couple of books from your tent, a little bedtime reading since you won’t let me out at night.”
“More botany books?” she said, slightly angry that Mike had been searching her tent. “I didn’t think I had any more on that subject.”
“Astronomy,” Mike corrected. “Guess what’s coming up next week?”
“The Harvest Moon?”
“Better than that. Jupiter is going to be occulted by the moon not long after sunset! A complete occultation in northeastern Europe. We’re lucky to be in the country to see it. You can bet I won’t be in my tent wrapped in garlic that night!”
Lamia bid him good night with a chuckle and headed for her own tent. She wanted to get her pot of wolfsbane—she had taken to carrying it whenever she went to the caves. Inside, books were scattered everywhere, evidence of Mike’s borrowing expedition. She found the flowers and stacked the books so that she wouldn’t trip over them later. The Donbury Uprising and the Wizard’s Covenant of 1578 was lying on top of one pile. She wondered if Mike had skimmed this tome.
Decades ago, when she was newly a vampire, she remembered sharing books like this with the one or two others at the castle. At the time she felt more connected to Romanian society, and eager to learn all she could. Where were they now, the Undead whom Cuza had gathered around him? Emil was dead, she knew. What about the others?
She shivered suddenly to remember Slaba, a young vampire who had made the mistake of biting a werewolf. His screams had rocked the castle for weeks. Finally the others locked him in the tower, but there was no place to escape the sound of his madness. He had not survived long, though, because he was too insane to eat and would not take any rest. In the end, there was no pity from any of the other vampires, just relief to be free of the din.
But Slaba was a very young and weak vampire. Would an older vampire survive biting a werewolf? She had no direct evidence, because none of the older vampires made such foolish mistakes. And she should not either.
Lamia stood quickly and left the tent, trying to shake the memories as well. She soon discovered that Vijay was not at the pavilion. Only Taofang sat amidst the chains of garlic, like a bunting at a festival.
“Where’s Vijay?” she inquired sharply.
“He not wait. Go to cave,” came the staccato reply. Taofang did not bother to look up from his computer screen.
Wishing she had someone to swear at, Lamia left the camp briskly. She navigated expertly through the dark woods now, familiar with the path after three months on the mountain. As she entered the cave, she caught sight of Vijay at the main computer console and felt relief. Her complacency was short-lived, though. When she drew nearer, she saw that he was slumped over, arms and head resting slackly on the keyboard of the computer terminal.
Hesitantly, she approached and inspected his neck, finding no puncture wounds. He seemed to be sleeping deeply. Was he merely tired or had she interrupted someone?
“Show yourself,” she demanded, turning and gazing impatiently about the cave.
“Ah, you’ve come,” said a silky voice as Cuza emerged from behind one of the black metal towers of neutrino detectors. “I’ve been waiting for you. Now we can begin.”
“What have you done to him? I warned you to leave them alone!”
“Done to him?” replied Cuza, gliding across the cave and facing her across the limp body of the student. “I merely sent him to sleep. I wanted to share him with you…as we did in the old days. That’s why I waited.”
A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, his pointed canines winking at her in the odd light of the instruments. A long time ago they had shared sometimes, leering at one another over the body of their victim. She especially remembered Mircea—such a beautiful young boy.
“I told you,” she spat forcefully, “I will not. I’m not going to do that anymore.”
“So you say,” he purred, but his voice became harsher. “But it is not natural. No, it is insane. And now you take as your lover that abomination, that killer!”
Lamia had seldom seen Cuza this angry, and never with that edge of fear in his voice.
“I know what I’m doing,” she said slowly and evenly. “I do not need you to protect me.”
“Oh, but you do,” replied the other vampire, his voice regaining its usual control. “You do not belong with these students or with that monstrous dog, but with your own kind. We shall take back the castle, hmmm? It will be just you and me this time, no others.”
“The castle?” She nearly choked on the word. “It can fall into ruins for all I care! I never want to see it again.”
She found that she was gripping the edge of the computer table, causing it to rattle slightly. Cuza stared at her unhurriedly, as if weighing his next words with great care.
“Arghezi lives at the castle once more,” he hissed. “Aren’t you curious to see him again?”
“Alexandru? At the castle?”
“Oh, you did not know,” crooned Cuza, softening his tone. “Well, I only found out recently myself. He lived in the States for many, many years, but returned to hunt us, looking for you, no doubt.”
“He’s welcome to the castle,” Lamia said decidedly. “You and he can fight over it, if you want it so badly. Now get out of here!”
“You are making a mistake, my dear,” came the patient reply, “if you think that you can leave all this behind.” Cuza stroked the neck of the sleeping student, who shuddered slightly in response. “This is what you are. You cannot escape. Why should you deny what you are? Come, drink with me.”
Fascinated, almost against her will she watched his long, white fingers caress Vijay’s smooth skin. She fought back memories of so many other victims, trying to forget the slow and sensuous dance that led to—
“GET OUT!” she shrieked at him, unable to flee herself. He continued his hypnotic stroking and stared at her with the intensity that only a vampire or a bird of prey can muster.
“Do you think perhaps that the American werewolf will save you?” sneered Cuza. “He will be the death of you, my dear.”
“He hunts vampires. I k
now that,” she glared at him. “And I hope he kills you!”
“Ah, but do you know where he lives? Do you know whom he serves?”
The question startled her. Of course she didn’t know where he lived. Why did it matter? She was confused, slow to respond, so he continued, “He lives at the castle. Arghezi brought him over from America, to be his hunting dog…”
“No. You are mistaken,” she said quickly, fleeing in confusion not to the entrance of the cave, but to one of the dull metal towers. She backed up against it and stared at him, horrified by the implications of what he’d just said.
“You’re lying,” she growled in a low tone. Even as she spoke, she knew Cuza was right. Where else could Lupeni have gotten all of his science books, if not from the castle? Yet he had failed to recognize her own collection—or kept his discovery to himself.
Cuza saw realization blossom on her face and smiled at her invitingly. Neither vampire moved for several long minutes, then he leaned over Vijay’s limp body and slowly made contact.
She knew what it would be like, knew how he would savor it like a slow kiss, first tasting the skin and then sinking, sinking into the flesh while the blood began to flow…
Watching was agony, so she turned away and rested her forehead against the cool and lifeless metal. He could have Vijay. She wanted no part in it.
But Lupeni: What was he? Monster? Changeling? Could he be as cold and cruel as the Alexandru that she remembered, the one who raged at them and vowed to exterminate them all? She thought he loved her, she sensed it in the way he touched her and looked at her on those endless afternoons spent in her tent. And what had she felt? Hunger, desire, perhaps something more.
All of that lay in ruins now, a crumpled heap of experience that no longer made any sense. She was certain now that Lupeni knew who she was—had perhaps come from the New World to hunt the beings that had been her companions decades ago. She ought to go, leave the cave before Cuza finished feeding on the grad student. Shaking all over, she forced herself to move, turning away from the wall of metal.
Only the Moon Howls Page 21
