Blood Eternal

by Marie Treanor

  “Lazar, Saloman,” she muttered.

  Saloman inclined his head. “Please sit down,” he invited with perfect courtesy, indicating the nearest booth. “Katalin will bring coffee.”

  Lazar, who’d never before had the pleasure of Saloman’s overwhelming company, closed his mouth and did as he was told, although he didn’t once take his gaze off Saloman. They sat in silence while the coffee was served and the waitress, Katalin, retreated back to the bar.

  Then Saloman sat back and regarded Lazar once more. “How can I help you?”

  Since he didn’t have his usual, much-abused pen in hand, Lazar was reduced to drumming his fingers on the table. “I need to know what’s going on,” he said abruptly. “Do you know about this vampire Elizabeth saw openly feeding last night? Apparently in some kind of relationship with his victim? We have an increasing number of victims who’re remembering attacks. It’s as if vampires are no longer bothering to cover their tracks.”

  Saloman continued to regard him, as if waiting for more. Not by as much as a flicker of an eyelash did he reveal that he knew nothing of Elizabeth’s story. At last, he observed, “You appear to know exactly what’s going on.”

  “But why?” Lazar demanded, leaning forward with sudden aggression. He’d been a field hunter; he was surrounded by his colleagues; he didn’t feel threatened by Saloman. “Have you told them they don’t need to be afraid of us anymore? Are you trying to provoke a war with humanity by bringing vampires into the open?”

  “No,” Saloman said mildly when Lazar paused for breath.

  Mihaela said, “And the two young women who disappeared after a night out on Wednesday? Have they taken up with vampires too? Do you know anything about them?”

  They were the likeliest victims that had come out of Elizabeth’s suggestion this morning, and she hadn’t given up hope that they might lead to Luk.

  “No,” Saloman said. “I don’t, but they might well be worth tracking to get to Luk. Wednesday was the night he attacked Elizabeth. He used a lot of energy and would have needed a lot of blood to recover.”

  Mihaela nodded once, perhaps by way of thanks, and absently picked up her coffee cup.

  Lazar said, “Can we stick to the point, here? Why are the vampires changing their behavior?”

  “The world is changing,” Saloman said. “And rightly so. Stagnation is never good.”

  “Is it your doing?” Lazar persisted.

  Saloman drank his coffee. Elizabeth watched his elegant fingers and the grip of his lips on the cup, remembering quite inappropriately how they felt on her body. A rush of tangled emotion tugged at her. She quashed it ruthlessly.

  “Is it my doing?” Saloman repeated as Lazar shifted restively. “Yes.” His gaze swept around them all and he set down his cup. “You want me to elaborate? Very well. I have, more or less, stopped the vampire killings. Most vampires have learned that they do not need to kill to survive, and that not killing brings them less trouble from you.” He smiled faintly. “And from me. As a result, many have stopped regarding themselves as a threat to humanity, and if they are no threat, why should they hide? Why should they not have human friends? A human lover for sex and feeding? If the human is willing, it solves many problems.”

  “It’s bringing them into the open,” Lazar said intensely.

  “Yes,” Saloman agreed. “It is. It’s begun in Romania and in Hungary, because that’s where I first imposed my will, but it’s already spreading. And on top of this, there are growing rumors from Turkey, where the depredations of the rebels could not be entirely covered up by hunters—one good to have been achieved from that mess.”

  “Oh, shit,” said Konrad with feeling.

  “You want this,” Lazar accused.

  “Yes, I do,” Saloman said. “And so should you. It’s a natural progression.”

  “There will be carnage!” Lazar exploded. “In their panic, humans will rampage through your population, and I really don’t see you accepting that as progression. There will be war, apocalyptic war—”

  “You paint a worst-case scenario,” Saloman interrupted. “With the same arguments I heard in the seventeenth century. What you have just now is a tiny trickle of information, a tiny proportion of people who’ve been made aware one way or another of the existence of vampires. None of them, I believe, has set out on a killing spree or sought to convince the general population. It seems to me what you need here is a policy, a strategy for gradually educating humanity.”

  Lazar’s eyes flickered to Elizabeth and Mihaela. Since it wasn’t the first time he’d heard this point of view, he might be more amenable to Saloman’s suggestions.

  “There are several things it would help you to consider,” Saloman continued. “First, what vampires can and should do for the world we all inhabit. My people have lived in chaos for too long to be properly aware of the gifts they may possess, but in time we can help you increasingly with predictions of natural disasters, with matters involving tracking—mountain rescue, apprehension of criminals, finding lost children, and maybe even with healing, although that is a rare gift that may have been lost altogether.

  “Second, if we live in peace together, we can pool resources to eradicate crime in both our communities. It needn’t be a matter of human versus vampire.

  “Third, tolerance is only ever achieved through knowledge.

  “And fourth, we have the means to begin this in a gradual way, introducing ourselves first to those who already have an inkling of the paranormal, those humans who share an Ancient gene. Like Elizabeth and Josh Alexander.”

  In spite of herself, Elizabeth’s heart jolted at the sound of her name on his lips.

  “And Grayson Dante,” Mihaela said wryly.

  “Grayson Dante will not be a problem for much longer,” Saloman said with such quiet certainty that, beside her, Lazar shivered.

  “Your justice isn’t ours,” he warned. “We will never condone a vampire killing a human, for whatever reason.”

  Saloman raised one eyebrow. “Then you must stop condoning the murder of vampires without reason.”

  “There is always a reason,” Lazar snapped.

  “No, there isn’t,” Elizabeth said quietly. They all turned to stare at her in surprise, but, leaving all personal matters aside, she’d already chosen the side she believed was right for the world. Avoiding Saloman’s piercing gaze, she said more strongly, “You said I should have killed that vampire last night, when he was doing no harm.”

  “He was feeding from a human!”

  “With consent,” Elizabeth argued. “And consider this: If vampires are feeding with consent, then they’re less likely to do it without consent.” Before Lazar could explode, she gave him a quick, friendly nudge that seemed to take the wind out of his sails. “Look, all of this takes time. No one’s advocating television announcements or teaching this stuff in schools, but I think Saloman’s right. The world is changing, and it’s up to all of us to make sure that’s for the better. We need to adjust our thinking to reconsider what is actually wrong. Because I’d say this cat’s climbing out of the bag anyway.”

  Lazar looked slightly baffled by her last words until Mihaela translated curtly, “Secret’s getting out.”

  Saloman stood up. It was, Elizabeth thought, a measure of the hunters’ unconscious acceptance of him that only Lazar shot to his feet in instinctive defense.

  Saloman said, “All I ask at this time is that you discuss these matters with your colleagues. I have enjoyed our conversation and I hope we can talk again soon.” He inclined his head to Lazar and to the hunters. His gaze lingered on Elizabeth an instant longer than was strictly necessary, and yet there was no invitation there, no telepathic message, not even a command she could defy. She felt like a mesmerized rabbit. Then he released her and simply turned away.

  As Saloman strolled back toward the bar, Elizabeth said brightly to Lazar, “Well? Did that help?”

  “No.” Lazar groaned. “It’s just given me another
headache.”

  Konrad stood abruptly. “Come on; let’s go and track down these missing girls. I would so love to find Luk before he does.”

  And without Saloman, what the hell are you going to do with him? she wondered.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mihaela’s front door was opened by a handsome stranger.

  Startled, Elizabeth snatched at the stake in her pocket. “Where’s Mihaela?” she demanded.

  “Kitchen!” came Mihaela’s amiable if distant voice.

  “Oh.” Feeling a trifle foolish, Elizabeth released the stake. At least she hadn’t actually threatened Mihaela’s guest with it.

  The handsome stranger smiled, opening the door wider. “You must be Elizabeth. Sorry to startle you.”

  Elizabeth walked into the hall just as Mihaela stuck her head out of the kitchen to say, “Elizabeth, Rikard Varga. Oh, and this is Rikard’s brother, Tarcal,” she added as another man strolled out of the living room, wineglass in hand. The brothers were in their thirties, blond and good-looking. Hiding her surprise, Elizabeth took off her jacket and delivered her bottle of wine to Mihaela in the kitchen.

  “You didn’t tell me you were having other guests,” she said.

  “Hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be the best way to avoid us talking shop.”

  Elizabeth sighed. Talking would get them nowhere anyway. They’d found someone who’d seen the missing women with a shadowy man she couldn’t describe. It had to be Luk, masking, but the discovery had gotten them no farther forward. The women had disappeared as completely as Luk.

  “Good plan,” Elizabeth said ruefully. She lowered her voice. “Who are they? Are you seeing one of them?”

  “Not in that way,” Mihaela said, with a hint of regret. “I met Tarcal at the gym. He has a long-term girlfriend, but we go for drinks occasionally—which is how I met his brother. Who is unattached,” she added with a quick grin. As Rikard chose that moment to wander into the tiny kitchen, she dropped the conspiratorial tone to say lightly, “Rikard is a doctor.”

  “You too, I understand,” Rikard said to Elizabeth.

  “Yes, but not of the medical variety.”

  “Rikard, will you pour Elizabeth some wine?” Mihaela asked, opening the oven door. “Go through to the living room. It’s boiling in here.”

  Although Elizabeth couldn’t help feeling a trifle annoyed that her comfortable night in with Mihaela had been hijacked by complete strangers, she quickly found the Varga brothers to be rather charming, intelligent, well-read, and amiable. And as the four of them sat around the table, chatting over Mihaela’s delicious dinner, Elizabeth acknowledged that it was an unexpectedly fun way to spend the evening, well away from vampires, missing women, and the pain of a love that seemed impossible either to bear or to forsake.

  Tarcal, she reckoned, was a born flirt, which was both flattering and fun, since he divided his attention pretty evenly between Elizabeth and Mihaela; but Rikard seemed a more serious character. He specialized in pediatrics.

  “I imagine that can be distressing at times,” Elizabeth remarked.

  “It can be. Mostly it’s rewarding, though. I love working with kids.”

  “You’ll get sick of it when you have your own,” Tarcal interpolated with a quick grin.

  “Are you planning on it?” Elizabeth asked, a little amused.

  “One day. I hope so, yes.” Rikard hesitated, then confided, “To be honest, that’s why my wife and I split up. She’s a surgeon too, and didn’t want to halt her career to have kids.” He put down his fork and smiled in a self-deprecating sort of way. “But that’s an oversimplification, isn’t it? Let’s say the problems in our relationship were highlighted by our disagreement over kids.”

  “Is your separation recent?” Elizabeth asked, wondering anxiously whether Mihaela was about to get herself into hot water with Rikard, in whom Mihaela seemed to have a greater interest than in Tarcal.

  “We’ve been divorced for a year. What about you, Elizabeth? Do you want children?”

  Elizabeth picked up her wineglass, as if it could protect her. Without warning, she imagined herself with Rikard, holding a baby over which they both smiled with loving pride. A happy, contented existence. A good life, with a good man and a child, maybe lots of children . . .

  Fortunately, her own choke of self-mocking laughter interrupted her vision. She set down her glass. “It’s not something I think about right now,” she said, and changed the subject. “Mihaela, that was delicious! What herbs did you use?”

  And yet, as she risked another glance at Rikard, she noted again how handsome he was, how kind and sensual his lips were. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to have babies with him, to live with him into old age.

  Clearly, she’d had too much wine. Rikard was a much better match for Mihaela.

  Later, after dessert and coffee, Elizabeth helped Mihaela clear the table, leaving the men to debate whether Tarcal should drive home himself or get a lift with his brother, who’d drunk rather less wine.

  “He likes you,” Mihaela said, smiling, as she piled plates into the sink.

  “Who does?”

  “Rikard, of course.”

  “I think it’s you he’s aiming for,” Elizabeth said dryly, but Mihaela, who avoided long-term relationships, frowned at her in an irritated kind of way.

  “Do you like him?” she demanded.

  “Of course I do,” Elizabeth said warmly. “He’s charming.” And if Mihaela could just get over her view that being a hunter precluded her from any kind of normal love life, maybe he was just the man for her. A sudden longing to be with her own love rose up, and she said hastily, “I’ve got to go, Mihaela, but I’ve had a lovely time.” She gave her friend a quick hug and whispered in her ear, “Go for it.”

  Mihaela looked startled, making Elizabeth laugh as she swung out of the kitchen to say good-bye to the men. Without warning, she bumped straight into Rikard in the hallway and jumped back with a word of apology.

  Rikard’s hands were on her arm and waist to steady her. “My fault,” he said with a smile, but although she was quite stable on her feet, he didn’t at once remove his hands. His blue eyes were warm, giving Elizabeth an instant’s warning before he said, “Tarcal’s making his own arrangements. May I take you home?”

  Elizabeth stepped back out of his reach. “No, thanks.”

  He followed her, raising one hand to touch her cheek. “Elizabeth. You’re very sweet. I’m asking for no more than to drive you home tonight, but I would like to see you again.”

  “Um . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. She looked him in the eye. “It’s complicated, but I’m in a relationship with someone else.”

  “Mihaela told me,” he said with a gentleness that amounted to sympathy. “If you like, we can go to my place. Or I can drop you off close to your home. Let me help.”

  Elizabeth’s breath caught. She felt winded. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, forcing her teeth apart to speak with anything approaching normality. “Nice to have met you, Rikard. Good-bye.”

  She went to the bathroom to give the brothers time to leave. She couldn’t trust herself to speak until they’d gone. Sitting on the edge of the bath, she had to summon all her self-control just to call her usual taxi firm and order a cab.

  As she emerged from the bathroom, Mihaela faced her in the hallway, her expression unreadable.

  “What did you tell them?” Elizabeth asked. “That Saloman beats me?”

  Mihaela’s chin lifted. “I left it to their imaginations.”

  “While implying I was unhappy and in need of a knight in shining armor?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She stared at Mihaela. “No. And no. Why do other people keep deciding what I need?”

  “Because you don’t seem to see it for yourself!”

  “What if it’s you who can’t see, Mihaela?”

  Mihaela brushed past her. “You’re making an issue out of not
hing. All I did was invite some friends to meet you, introduced you to a nice man who has the same interests and the same goals in life as you. I didn’t sell you into sex slavery.”

  Elizabeth’s temper snapped. “Damn it, Mihaela, how can I trust you when you’re doing this stuff behind my back?”

  Mihaela’s whole body whipped around. “Trust?” Her face flushed a deep, intense red. “Don’t you dare talk to me about trust! I’ve stood by you when you lied to us, betrayed us, slept with our greatest enemy! Even when you try to win us to his cause, I don’t denounce you. I keep your secret in front of my employers, who do trust me. Why? Because you’re my friend. And if I hope for your happiness, I believe that’s a part of friendship. If I hope that you’ll see sense and leave him, to give yourself a chance to live, is that such a fucking crime against trust?”

  The truth in Mihaela’s angry words lashed her. The blood drained from her head, leaving her weak and dizzy. Not now, damn it, not now . . . Closing her eyes, she tried to force the nausea back. To think through it.

  “I don’t deserve a friend like you,” she whispered. “I know that. And whatever you think, I do value our friendship. I value you and the others more than you’ll ever know. But this thing with Saloman . . . you mustn’t touch it, Mihaela. It needs space to grow, even to survive. . . .” She trailed off, aware she was making no sense.

  Mihaela said, “I don’t want it to survive.”

  Elizabeth opened her eyes and smiled weakly. “Mihaela.” It seemed her legs would move after all. They got her across the hall until she could put her arms around her friend. “It isn’t up to you,” she whispered on a weird, aching kind of a laugh.

  Mihaela didn’t get it—how could she?—but after a moment’s rigidity, she gave in and hugged Elizabeth back before pushing her away. The sickness began to fade, allowing Elizabeth the strength to move, to pick up her jacket and bag off the chair in the corner of the hall.