Legacy in Blood (Book 1 of The Begotten of Old Series)

by Dark, Masha

  What do you require of me, Daughter of the Red Father? Gal grumbled in obvious dissatisfaction.

  I entreat your help, replied Dalana.

  But I never have and never will keep company with the kin of the Sanguinary. It is wrong that you have resolved to disturb me, asserted the Master of Fire.

  He was right. Dalana herself was not overly delighted at the prospect of badgering any of the Khans for help, especially not Gal. An extremely powerful creature, the Noyan of Fire did not like to interfere in earthly affairs. The Khans, unlike the Edzeni, generally did not bother with humans and were known for their fierce dispositions. But Gal especially wanted nothing to do with humans, because in the past human activity had caused him no end of trouble. As for fierceness, this Gal had an extremely ill-tempered disposition, even by the standards of the Begotten of Old. Dalana was not at all heartened by the prospect of finding herself in debt to him, but she had no other alternative left – she needed to get rid of the house spirit’s body and she needed it done expertly, so that no human would have any idea what had really happened in the basement.

  Take a look at this body, Dalana pointed out the remains of the house spirit to Gal. If humans find it, they will raise a fuss. As you well know, Great Lord of the Fiery Elements, any collision between our World and the World of humans benefits neither side…

  That matter has nothing to do with me, asserted Gal, interrupting Dalana’s metal monologue. What could the humans possibly learn about me from a dead house spirit? And what could be more harmful to me than showing my power in their world? I exist outside of time. Humans come and go, I remain.

  “I-I think someone’s coming,” Vasilisa’s voice sounded pitiful.

  I beg you, Gal, implored Dalana. Help me dispose of this body. I will not forget this service.

  Gal flared up into yellow flames, which, as Dalana understood it, indicated something along the lines of a skeptical but cunning grin. They needed to get away from here; they had already wasted too much time.

  Fair enough, Red Daughter, Gal said suddenly. The appearance of your companion has enlivened me, and I have decided to fulfill your request. All you desire is that I absorb this one dead body?

  Yes, none save it, said Dalana, not hiding her sigh of relief.

  Go, Red Daughter! ordered Gal. And bear in mind – Gal still recalls your debt.

  In a second the body of the house spirit flared up as if it were a heap of straw. When the police came into the basement they would not find even an ash remaining of the dead monster.

  I thank you, Dalana said respectfully, and then she added aloud for Vasilisa’s sake, “Quickly! Let’s get out of here!”

  Vasilisa did not need to be told twice. In one breath she leaped out onto the street, keeping pace with Dalana. They had barely managed to open the front door of Dalana’s apartment building and run inside, when a police cruiser pulled up. The iron door flew shut with an unpleasant clang and Dalana finally felt herself in relative security. Along with that sense of security returned the flood of rage she felt towards the individual who had dragged her into this mess, thanks to whom she had twice in the past forty-eight hours managed to put herself in debt to others.

  “Thank you,” said Vasilisa, and she suddenly threw herself onto Dalana, hugging her around the neck.

  Dalana waited for a few moments then pushed the girl away and gave her a vigorous slap. Vasilisa retreated a step from the unexpected blow and looked like she was about to burst into tears.

  “Not another squeak out of you,” Dalana warned her in a low, hissing voice. “We are going to go up to my apartment and you will tell me everything in order. But make no mistake, I do not guarantee that I won’t crush your neck at the conclusion of your tale.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  1.

  He who ponders long does not always find the best solution.

  Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  Having washed the fetid slime off her body, Dalana sat down in the living room and listened to Vasilisa’s confused account, occasionally reading her mind. It could not be denied that the girl had managed to stumble into some very serious trouble. It seemed like all the international special services had decided to declare war on vampires. But it could be that all the events of the last few days were nothing more than a coincidental confluence of events. Either way, Dalana was not at all happy to find herself in the middle of all these raids, either through her own carelessness or others’.

  “Those beasts killed Lucinda and Nicholaus,” said Vasilisa in a sinking voice. “I didn’t have any options. So I came to you.”

  “That means you thought I’d take you under my wing,” snorted Dalana in reply.

  “I hoped,” said the girl, lowering her eyes.

  She looked quite silly in Dalana’s dressing gown, which was two sizes too big for her. With a towel wrapped around her wet hair, Vasilisa really did look like an adolescent, and the sight of her was enough to induce a whole gamut of emotions, ranging from aggravation to pity. A serious battle was seething within Dalana’s soul, but for the moment the advantage was on the side of malice.

  “Let’s not equivocate,” said Dalana severely. “First I almost died in that club, and I was forced to risk my life to save your hide. Then I had to suffer through a stream of abuse simply because I did not want to sleep with you. After that I once again found myself on the verge of death just so you wouldn’t become a late night snack for a house spirit.”

  “Yes, I realize all that,” stammered the girl. “You can’t imagine how grateful I am to you.”

  Dalana could well imagine the form Vasilisa’s gratitude would take, but she did not intend to comment, preferring instead to pierce her companion with an unkind glare.

  “But then…why did you do it?” asked Vasilisa.

  “What exactly?” countered Dalana crossly.

  “Well…not let that monster eat me,” Vasilisa explained timidly.

  “I have absolutely no idea!” snapped Dalana.

  The girl cowered in fear, wrapping the robe tighter around her body.

  “And besides all that,” continued Dalana, “I was called upon to ask for help twice. All because of you! If you could only imagine to whom I am now in debt because of you!”

  Vasilisa froze, unable to make a sound from fear.

  “And after this you appeal to me, announcing that CRUSS is on your tail! And still you dare to ask for help!”

  Dalana strode over to Vasilisa and seized her by the chin.

  “I tell you truly, little girl,” she said after a short pause. “The very least I’m tempted to do is to give you over to those devils.”

  “And the most?” squeaked Vasilisa.

  Dalana squeezed her face. Vasilisa whined with pain.

  “It’s best you don’t know,” Dalana said darkly, releasing the girl and returning to her seat.

  “I beg you, don’t drive me away,” Vasilisa whispered hoarsely, trying in vain to hold back her tears. “I…I simply don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “You are a pampered little pervert,” barked Dalana. “I don’t have the slightest desire to help you.”

  In the depths of her soul, Dalana was aware that she could not kill the girl, but she had no idea what she should do with her.

  “It’s so bizarre,” Vasilisa said suddenly.

  “What’s bizarre?” asked Dalana menacingly, sincerely hoping that the girl would blurt out some nonsense that would give her a good excuse to chase her off without a twinge of conscience.

  “You see,” began Vasilisa, “today when I ran like a rat from my own home, I killed a young commando. He was in my way, and I simply tore the veins out of his throat, but after a few hours I switched places with him – when that troll attacked me… A bizarre twist of fate,” Vasilisa chuckled throatily. “That’s it, the circle of life. How divorced we were from reality. All these years it was like we were living under a glass jar…”

  “Now it’s you who is philosophizing,” Dalan
a interrupted her, but then she stopped, staring at Vasilisa in amazement.

  In the adolescent’s place now sat an adult woman with a tranquil look in her wise grey eyes and the haughty bearing of an aristocrat.

  “Thank you,” said the grey-eyed princess, “for saving my life twice. You will see that I always pay my debts in full.”

  “I still haven’t said you can stay here,” Dalana said sullenly.

  “I await your decision.” Vasilisa inclined her head.

  Dalana weighed the pros and cons. It stood to reason that this pampered eight hundred year old flower could by no means be left to her own devices. The Begotten of Old, just like humans, were not strangers to emotion: they were often torn between common sense and the dictates of the heart.

  “I think I know what to call him,” said the adolescent girl.

  “Who?” Dalana did not understand, having escaped from reality to ponder the situation.

  “The fiery one,” said Vasilisa. “His name is Lucifer, isn’t it?”

  “He has many names.” Dalana dismissed her with a wave of her hand then added: “Turn on the television. I want to check something.”

  Vasilisa obediently hunted down the remote control and turned the television on.

  “Put it on any main network and bring me my laptop.”

  Vasilisa executed both commands. Dalana pushed up the cover of her notebook and clicked open the browser. Just as she had guessed, a photograph of Vasilisa flashed in the news updates, accompanied by the headline, ‘Attention! Wanted!’ The text below started with the words, ‘An extremely dangerous criminal is being sought…,’ Dalana did not bother to read further. Now everything was as clear as a spring day: the entire country had already received the word about Vasilisa.

  “Come here,” Dalana beckoned to the girl.

  “It’s not the most flattering picture of me, now is it?” That was Vasilisa’s sole reaction to what she saw online.

  “Do you want me to spank you?” asked Dalana, once again starting to lose her patience.

  Well, if you twist my arm, flashed through Vasilisa’s head.

  “One more reply like that and you’re out on the streets,” said Dalana.

  “Oh, come on,” Vasilisa frowned disdainfully. “The internet! It isn’t a major news source, thank heavens.”

  Dalana smiled crookedly. “Put on the sound.” She pointed at the television.

  Vasilisa turned up the volume just as the face of a late night news anchorwoman appeared on the screen.

  “…And so,” the anchorwoman said in a cultured voice, “at this hour the main news is the escape of an extremely dangerous criminal accused of committing two particularly savage murders…”

  Vasilisa dropped the remote control. It flopped down to the floor, muting the announcer, who was describing the distinguishing features of the fugitive as a supplement to the photo that already hovered in the corner of the screen.

  “Turn it off,” Dalana ordered in a tired voice.

  Vasilisa meekly picked up the remote and turned off the television.

  “You’ve really caused an unreal amount of fuss, now haven’t you?”

  Well then, Dalana continued, switching to telepathic communication. I suppose that the price on your head will be more than tempting. Have no doubt, by tomorrow evening the entire country will have memorized your face, and those who like easy money are always thick on the ground. From now on, no fuss whatsoever. You do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. If you even dare to contradict me, you’re gone immediately.

  Aren’t these the rules of life in a socialist society? asked Vasilisa snarkily.

  These are the rules for tonight! Dalana barked menacingly. You are still here only on my sufferance!

  Vasilisa stepped back, but her attitude proved to be stronger than her fear of Dalana, so she stepped once more into the fray.

  “So these are the regulations for the night? Not to speak, not to argue, not to bother you at all…but am I allowed to breathe? Tell me, what’s the point of me being a good little girl, if you’re still going to shove me out the door in the morning?”

  Dalana lifted her arm to strike her, but at the last second she thought better of it, fearing that her blow might be too powerful for Vasilisa, who was worn out from pursuit.

  “Each new impertinence,” Dalana said distinctly, “strengthens my growing desire to dispose of you.”

  Vasilisa said nothing, simply rubbing her nose, which was swollen from tears.

  “You will sleep in the other room,” added Dalana and she turned away from the girl, not wishing to continue the conversation.

  To her surprise, Vasilisa did not object, but just walked away quietly. Dalana could not decide if this was reason prevailing over irrationality or just simple exhaustion. She put it out of her mind – it was high time to turn her attention to the disk she had received from Star, together with a selection of debit cards, which accessed the advance that comprised half the fee for her current mission. The disk contained supplementary information on Alexander Soigu – information that was impossible to obtain from the internet or television talk shows.

  Sitting down in front of her laptop, Dalana opened the files on the disk and became absorbed in reading. Very soon it was clear to her that Soigu was a lucky dog who somehow came out whole and practically unscathed from the most dangerous situations. He’d been drowned, blown up, set on fire, shot at and doused with acid. The photographs from the crime scenes were even more eloquent than the criminal case reports. There was a lot of collateral damage around the assassination attempts on Soigu. Humans had perished under hails of bullets, humans who had the carelessness to be nearby in that dreadful moment; a few were simply severed in two by a burst of machine gun fire. One person, who had been flung to the side by an explosive blast, had been reduced to a mass of bones, blood and flesh. Those who were injured in car crashes looked like smashed tin cans. But Soigu was always alive and well.

  The more Dalana studied the materials on the disk the more she could not escape from the vague sensation of familiarity that had arisen in her this afternoon. Why was she so doggedly tormented by the sensation that she had already met this man? Was he even a man at all? Perhaps he was another one of the transmogs? Well, in any event she needed to get out and do some field work. She needed to monitor this target thoroughly before acting. She had to be doubly, if not triply, as cautious as she usually was. Dalana did not want any more unforeseen headaches.

  Destroying the disk, Dalana again turned her thoughts to the girl. She wasn’t sleeping – Dalana could hear Vasilisa tossing and turning beyond the wall. There was yet another dilemma. Dalana had not decided what she should do with her guest.

  You can’t sleep? she asked Vasilisa.

  No. I’m analyzing. Thinking, the girl replied instantly.

  A useful pursuit, Dalana grinned.

  Listen, can I come into the other room? asked Vasilisa. For some reason I’m uncomfortable talking through a wall.

  Don’t lie to me, replied Dalana somewhat rudely. You want to repeat your proposition concerning… how did you put it? Ah yes – concerning my ‘primary business activities’.

  As always, you are right. But now my proposition has acquired new…uh, parameters. And I’d like you to hear me out. But just, damn it, eye to eye.

  My dear child, haven’t you forgotten something? Dalana wanted to bring the girl down a peg or two. I put conditions in place. You were ordered to shut your trap and go to sleep.

  Please, begged Vasilisa.

  Very well then, Dalana relented after a few seconds of thought. Come here.

  Vasilisa appeared on the threshold, no longer wrapped in the dressing gown but in a sheet.

  “I realized something,” she said vaguely, sitting down in an armchair. “The humans who…who attacked us today – they’re the same bastards who organized the shoot-out at Wing.

  “How do you know that?” Dalana said.

  “Because they had m
y notebook.”

  “What?” asked Dalana.

  Now it was her turn to stare with incomprehension.

  “My address book,” Vasilisa began to explain patiently. “I showed it to you. I forgot it in the car. And they found it and figured out where our house was…. It’s the only explanation for how they found us,” Vasilisa’s voice shook. “Oh, my God…”

  Vasilisa sobbed and covered her face with her hands. Dalana hoped that she didn’t become hysterical; it would try her patience.

  “Well, what can I say?” she said somewhat coolly. “You and your carelessness are to blame for what happened. Next time don’t be so careless. And be less self-assured.”

  “Please don’t patronize me,” said Vasilisa severely, lowering her hands from her face, which had already turned red. “I will blame myself for what happened to the end of my days.”

  “And what do you expect from me?” wondered Dalana. “Sympathy?”

  “Oh, I’m not so naïve as to expect sympathy from you,” replied Vasilisa, her eyes flashing. “But I want to propose work for you.”

  “Here we go again,” began Dalana, but Vasilisa abruptly leaned towards her, effectively cutting her off.