Vladislav would be easy to spot. I only caught the briefest of glimpses of him the previous evening when Radu was caught off-guard by his appearance. Vladislav, he told me, would always travel with three women, one of each color hair. He also wore the Dracul coat of arms on his shoulder, visible to everyone. Sure enough, a man with a blonde, brunette, and redhead walked into the opera, wearing the Dracul crest. Abigail somehow knew he was here, too. She was approaching him the moment he crossed the threshold.
I stayed in my perch, waiting to see where they went. Abigail reappeared in one of the balconies that I’d been scrubbing a bit before. She made herself visible on purpose, this was the sign for me to make my move.
The lights went out about halfway through my journey to Vladislav’s seating area. As I slipped into the balcony, the music began. This was my one and only chance. The vampyre was so enamored with Abigail and her beauty that he didn’t know what happened until the silver dagger was deep into his heart. Blood was rushing out of both ends of the wound, staining the seat he was lounging in. The silver poisoning his blood, killing him from the inside.
Abigail, seeing the dagger pierce all the way through his chest, made her leave. The three vampyre ladies he was with didn’t realize that their master was dead until we were out of the balcony. In fact, we made it to the entrance of the alley before they burst out, full on daemon side showing. The redhead hissed out and four more vampyres appeared from various spots on the street. They all quickly followed us.
When they rounded the corner, they realized it had all been a trap. Radu Dracul was there, his sword ready to cut them all down. As Abigail and I ducked out of sight, the younger brother of Vlad himself butchered the lesser vampyres with ease. Before the end of Mozart’s first piece, the Milan coven of vampyres was eliminated.
Radu sheathed his sword, parts of all the vampyres scattered around the bloody mess that was the alleyway. I was unsure how an eyeball had been dislodged from one of them, but it was resting on the ground, until Abigail stepped on it. It was a mighty good thing she didn’t realize it.
“I could use some classical music after that,” Radu said.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I never joke about culture, Brinza. Come, we deserve a break for the good work we’ve done this evening.”
Without a second thought of his dead cousin’s body still rotting in the balcony, Radu led us back into the opera house so that we could experience Mozart for a second time. By the beginning of the third piece, the thoughts of Vladislav’s corpse had drifted from my mind, the wonderment of the music taking me away to a better place, if only for an evening.
Chapter Sixteen
V lad threw his wine goblet in anger. Thick red liquid spilled out as it clattered around the floor. “Vladislav is dead you say, Esmerelda?”
I didn’t know when I had left my own consciousness and reentered the witch’s, but I was here. Esmerelda, my very much alive ancestor, was frightened beyond anything I’d ever felt. She dropped to a single knee. “Yes, Master. The lone survivor accurately described Radu, in both physical appearance and skill.”
The powerful vampyre walked right by her. At first, I thought he was going to kill her, but as we turned around, I saw he walked up to a priest he had tied up in the room. The man was sporting multiple wounds, dear God! Was he using him as a blood tap? The priest was barely alive, his eyes not even open.
Vlad took his frustrations out on the man, ripping his throat away from the rest of his neck. He tossed away the shredded organ as the man fell face first, dead. Honestly, that was probably for the best. His endless suffering was over.
Even the most righteous of men would not believe Vlad’s soul could be redeemed. With his anger sated for the moment, he returned to the problem at hand. “We need to inform Mistress Bathori in Munich and Count Renard in Vienna. With the loss of The Jackal and now Vladislav, Radu is proving himself to be a threat to our kingdom.”
“Drakovia will not fall,” the witch said, belief in every word.
“With their positions known, reroute the shades from the Alps to Milan. We do not know how long Radu will linger; time is of the utmost importance.”
Esmerelda stood back up. “It shall be done, Master.”
“Good,” Vlad said as he rubbed his hands together.
The door to his lair opened again and another witch entered. This one was shorter than Esmerelda, though beautiful. Her short hair hung over her flawless face, not long enough to hide her eyes. She took her place beside Esmerelda. “What news do you have, Ariana?”
“A replacement for The Jackal has been found. The process of turning him into a werewolf has begun,” she told him.
He began to unbutton his shirt. “This calls for a celebration, my consorts.”
God must’ve been with me as I was pulled from Esmerelda’s conscious before I had to witness anything else.
Both of my companions were still asleep when I woke up in a sweat. Being connected to that witch again, it made me ill. I put my head out the window to vomit. The sounds of my retching woke up both of them. Radu and Abigail were silent as I finished pouring my lunch onto the street below. Thankfully, no one walked by and looked up. That would’ve been a sight!
With the sensation over, I slumped back into the room and sat against the wall. Abigail put a wet cloth on my forehead as I tried to recover what was left of my dignity.
“What happened, Brinza?” Radu asked.
“I connected to the witch again,” I gasped. My breathing was labored this time. “The imagery, everything so much more real this time. Not like the dream state of the previous time.”
Radu pressed his hand against my cheek. “You’re clammy. I can only imagine the same effect happened to the witch once you left. Let’s hope Vlad doesn’t discover this connection.”
I didn’t much care about what happened to the witch. I never wanted to experience that again. Still, I did glean a few vital pieces of information to share. “The shades are coming to Milan.”
“Did Vladislav’s death tip off our location?”
“Yes, Radu. On top of that, Vlad’s alerting two vampyres named Renard and Bathori of us.” Radu’s face darkened. “And the other witch found a candidate to replace The Jackal.”
“No, not another werewolf!” Abigail exclaimed.
Radu calmed us with his hands. “We have to deal with one problem at a time. Currently, the werewolf and other vampyres do not affect us.” The same concern touched his red eyes as it did the last time we were under the threat of the shades. “The shadow daemons are priority number one. We stay in Milan until we’ve dealt with them.”
We stayed in the rest of the day, all of us trying to rest. It was only when twilight touched the sky did the three of us leave the safety of our hideout and head back into the busy Italian streets. Radu tasked Abigail and me with one thing—find an ally in this city who may know something about daemons. With luck, we could run into someone with dark knowledge who could help us with the shades.
As always, the best place to start were the seedier bars, the ones in the slummier districts of the city. It was in locations like this where you needed to watch your back. It was also the type of place where people wouldn’t ask too many questions. I knew we’d be okay, as both Abigail and I were very skilled in battle and most felt our aura as we passed.
It wasn’t until the third tavern that we picked up our first credible lead. An old man without a single tooth in his head overheard us asking the bartender if any patron in the place was familiar with the ‘dark creatures’ plaguing the countryside. The bartender gruffly told us to buy a drink or leave. It was only on our way out that our lead approached.
He tapped me on the shoulder and gestured to follow him to the dark corner of the pub. He didn’t speak Italian like most everyone in the city, he spoke a very formal dialect of Latin that was quite the surprise. “The two of you are looking for trouble, is that it?”
“No friend,” I replied b
ack in the same language. “We are looking for answers.”
That seemed to be an acceptable answer for the conversation to continue. “The name is Horus. Before I tell you what I know, may I have the pleasure?”
“I’m Abigail,” the Seer answered with her hand stuck out.
“Your eyes, my dear, are your advantage, not weakness,” Horus told her. This brought a good deal of red to Abigail’s cheeks.
It was my turn. “I’m Maximus.”
Horus gripped my hand and gave it a firm shake. “These are the hands of a hunter. If the callouses could tell stories, I’m sure they’d be complimentary of your skill.”
“You seem to know much, Horus. Can I ask where this knowledge comes from?”
“Like the two of you, I was once a staunch rival of the evils of this world. From my pulpit, I championed the Word of God and vilified those who corrupted the land.”
A disgraced priest? That was an unlikely find. “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
His eyes brightened with my Bible passage. “How it delights me that the young still know the Bible is the most important book one can read. Romans 12:21, those words prove to be very true in these dark days.”
“How did you end up in this dank place, Father?” Abigail asked him.
“My days as being known as Father are over, my child.” He might’ve thought that, but his actions were starting to show he’d never truly left the ministry. “When those who control the Vatican found out about my teaching, they had my teeth pulled and my Bible burned. I was excommunicated without just cause.”
It was time to shine the light on the truth for Father Horus. “Vlad Dracul runs the Vatican from the safety of darkness. A man with no soul can never excommunicate a man of God.”
Horus clutched at his heart. “How in God’s name did such a vile daemon come to control the Roman Catholic Church?” His voice began to rise, but he stopped himself quickly. We didn’t want to draw unwanted attention. “My apologies, I just cannot believe my ears.”
“Believe it, Father, for the forsaken is hiding with the shepherd. And that’s exactly what we’re trying to end.”
He touched each of our foreheads with the outside of his hands. “May the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit guide your journey,” he blessed us. He made the sign of the cross over us as well.
As he sat back down, “How can I be of assistance? You were asking the bartender for people with daemonic knowledge, so you must be in a spot or two.”
Since she was sitting closer to Father Horus, Abigail took the chance to tell him. “Vlad has sent a daemon known as a shade to stop us. We know nothing about them, other than they are incredibly dangerous.”
“That is an understatement,” Horus in turn replied. For the first time since meeting us, the kind yet mischievous expression took leave, replaced with a look of pure fear. “There is a very good reason that those foul monsters were erased from any recorded text, they are nightmares come to life.”
I wondered how much to tell him. He’d eventually pick up on the fact we were not traveling alone and that we were with someone very knowledgeable. We may even have reached that point by mentioning the shades. My fear was, if Horus found out we were in league with Radu, he’d turn us over to the church. We didn’t need any new enemies in the city with Vladislav dead.
Horus, as I feared, began to question how we would know about such a daemon. “The time for secrecy is over, if in fact the shades have been summoned by Vlad to kill you.” He folded his hands over, resting his bearded chin on them. “Abigail, Maximus, just who are the two of you?”
From under the table, Abigail squeezed my hand, as if to let me know that telling Horus was safe. “I’m Maximus Brinza, son of Ivan. This is Abigail, former soldier in the Vatican army and Seer. We are working with an agent known as Gabriel to stop Vlad from taking over Europe.”
Then the damndest thing happened—Horus laughed. “Please tell me Radu isn’t still going by that name?”
The two of us nearly fell out of our seats. “How do you know about Radu Dracul?” I questioned.
“The same way the two of you do, I suppose. He came to me to help remove Vlad from the mortal plane, to use my place as one of the region’s most respected religious leaders to speak out against the evils.” He pointed to his mouth. “As you already know, it didn’t work out very well for me.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Y ou.” That was all Radu had to say when Horus walked into the safe house with us.
The older religious man said nothing, just crossing his arms and sitting down at the table we had. This put me into the position to speak up. “We didn’t know you had another ally in the city.”
Radu’s eyes found me quickly. “An ally would assume a person who supports what you do. I could be wrong in my understanding of the term, however.”
Horus didn’t jump up to defend himself. He continued to sit there, calm as could be, and watch the vampyre. “A friend has the right to question a friend’s motives and decisions. If a friend and ally are two different distinctions, then forgive me for misunderstanding my role in your plan.”
The standoff continued. Would there be no end to the angst in the room? Horus, knowing his patience wasn’t a match for a man who’d been alive for three hundred years, tried to broker the peace.
“Radu, or is it Gabriel still?” He waved off his own question. “It doesn’t matter. I gave my life to the cause, inflicted with permanent scars. Just because I told you it was foolhardy to continue a direct conflict with your brother doesn’t mean I didn’t believe in the cause.”
“I felt enough guilt about what Renard did to your teeth, Horus,” Radu spat back. “I offered to avenge you, but you only told me to give up and live a normal life for once.”
“How many years have you spent trying to kill Vlad? Three hundred? Of course I wanted you to have a little peace in your life.”
The vampyre’s chest was heaving he was so worked up. “I can’t live in peace until Vlad has paid for everything he’s done, Horus. How can you live in peace with what’s happened to you?”
“I haven’t turned my back on humanity and God.”
Just like that, in one simple sentence, the argument was over. “I can see there’s still no arguing with you. So, why are you here?” Radu asked.
“Your friends were asking for information about the shades. I happened to overhear them and God did the rest.”
The air in the room changed. “How do you know anything about those damned creatures?”
Horus pulled out a very old Bible from inside his ragged, torn coat. Along the side of each page were notes, scribbles really, that took up as much room as the Scripture itself. “Ever since my excommunication, I’ve taken it upon myself to learn everything I can about the enemy of God. I figured one day, my attention to detail would serve a greater purpose.”
He handed the book to me, not Radu. “It’s fairly obvious that you are the leader of this group, Maximus.”
I took the book with great care. “This tome must contain your life’s work.”
“Just the end of my life, the past six, seven years. Milan has proven to be a very useful place to learn about the evils of the world,” he added.
His handwriting was hard to read. As a high ranking religious figure, that fact he was literate and could write was a boon. It was just too bad it was so poorly scrawled. That’s when Abigail reached out, as if to ask for the book. I handed it to her and she began to run her hands over the edges where Horus’s notes were. We all watched, waiting to see what happened.
“The details, Father. This is most impressive.”
“You can read those, my child?” he asked.
“It’s a trick I picked up, feeling the raising of the letters and putting the words together.” She felt the next page. “You wrote, Witches are a foul blight to our world. Between using physical pleasures, their black magic taints all it touches. An accurate description.”
&nbs
p; Horus blinked twice, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “It takes a lot to impress an old man who thought he’d witnessed everything. Apparently, I hadn’t seen the extent of God’s work until now.”
The two of them became engrossed in the fact Abigail could read his notes without ever seeing a single word. Politely pushing me out of the way, she sat beside him as they began to talk in excited tones about the information contained in his Bible. That’s when I felt a slight tug on my shirt.
It was hard to look away, but I gave Radu my attention. “What’s wrong?”
“Seeing an old face from the past reminds me of my failures,” he admitted.
That explained his anger. He wasn’t mad at Horus, he still was mad at himself for Vlad not being dead yet. “You can’t tell me that all these coincidences aren’t proof that you’re on the right path,” I reminded him. “Vlad’s rule is coming to an end, something you’re personally seeing come to fruition.”
“I’m going to interrupt them in a few moments, but while they get this excitement out of their system, would you like a story about Denis?”
My grandfather died well before I was born. Considering the memories my dad told me of his father, Denis had to have been older when he was recruited by Radu. “Yes, I would.”
“I knew of the bloodlines, even back then. Still, I didn’t trust humans to help me. I assumed all were poisoned by the lackluster nature of the churches that sprung up to bilk them of their money.”
There would never be any confusion on where Radu stood when it came to religion. “What changed your mind?”
“Denis was the first of the witch’s bloodline who appeared to be not only a good and genuine man, but also a fierce warrior.” He spoke this in regret. “Had I not been so stupid and trusted my instincts, Denis with ten fewer years on him would’ve been successful in slaying Vlad.”
Malice of the Cross Page 9
