Malice of the Cross

by Jeremy Croston

  Ariana seemed disappointed. “Master was curious if the hunter or his brother were still operating. His decision not to finish them properly sits on his conscience every night.”

  “Has he gleaned anything from his trophy?” Esmerelda asked.

  For the first time since seeing her, Ariana flashed a real emotion: anguish. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “The blind girl offers nothing. He only keeps her because she has Dracul blood, even if it is Radu’s.”

  Trapped inside Esmerelda kept my emotions stunted, but I knew who they were speaking of. This was the first time that one of these intrusions brought me joy. Abigail was alive.

  It was only too late that I realized that my happiness may have given Esmerelda knowledge of my existence. “Something is off,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Her hand ran through her hair, her fingers lingering around her temples. “I feel as if someone, or something, is trying to influence my mind and feelings.” Then her temper took over. “Leave, I must be alone for the time to look further into this.”

  The last thing I saw was Ariana giving Esmerelda a perplexed look before I was pulled from her mind and back into my own body.

  No one else was awake when I came to, back in the Swiss cabin far away from Vlad and his consorts. I steadied myself as I got up and went outside. The cool, refreshing mountain air was exactly what I needed after my jaunt back into my ancestor’s mind.

  To find out that Abigail was still alive and being held captive by Vlad was unexpected news—fantastic news, but completely unexpected. As much as I wanted to stay away from Vlad and continue my life of causing problems from a place like this, could I really abandon Abigail? She had been such a good friend and companion. Leaving her to that fate seemed cowardly.

  I was back inside by the time the sun set. Julius had been up for some time, but seemed content not to bother me while I was deep in thought. Radu had just woken up and he had no problem probing for information. “Brinza, your face says you’ve gleaned information. How is that possible?”

  “I reentered the mind of the witch, Esmerelda.”

  That brought about the looks and questions. I had to absorb quite a few before I could calm them down and deliver the best news I could ever give. “Abigail is alive. Vlad took her the night he attacked us.”

  “The blind Seer?” Julius asked. When I nodded affirmative, a big smile broke out across his face. “Then the prophecy still exists.”

  Both Radu and I were familiar with the prophecy that originally led me to leave Stefania and go with him. Elder Darius wrote it in the very same Bible that Julius carried. To be honest, I hadn’t even contemplated those words in years—not since our defeat and humiliation at the hands of Vlad.

  However, if Abigail was still alive…

  “Radu, could this have all been in God’s plan?” I asked. “To bring us a great defeat, remind us that our hubris would be our downfall. Maybe, just maybe…”

  “Stop,” he said, his focus directed solely at me. “I spent the better part of three hundred years trying to exact revenge on my brother. I recruited the best hunters of different generations to help me. We failed, all of us. So no, Maximus, I’m done chasing Vlad. I will use my powers to hinder his plans and disrupt his dark dealings, but I will no longer pursue him.”

  It was disheartening to hear, but maybe Radu was right. “Yes, let’s forget the prophecy.” Julius looked to argue, but I silenced him with a look. “Instead, let us prepare to give Lady Bathori a proper welcome to Austria.”

  As the planning commenced, neither man knew that I was plotting my own course. Vlad may have been too far out of reach to slay, but there was no way in Hell I wasn’t going to save Abigail.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  **Austria; 1779 the year of our Lord**

  W ord traveled to us that a caravan that contained important delegates from Munich was less than two days out. It hadn’t taken us long to get a network of information, thanks to the brilliant mind of Julius. The former father was as easy to talk to as they came and people soon began to seek him out for his knowledge, comforting words from the Bible, and easy demeanor.

  With the information flowing in, we knew the time and place to spring our trap. We’d arrived in this section of the Alps early enough to get a lay of the land around the valleys most used as passages. There were a few excellent spots to set the trap, but one stood out above them all. It was a steep wall with plenty of accumulated snow on the plateaus above. Triggering a small avalanche here would be simple and it would ensure that no one had any place to run afterwards.

  The last thing that was needed was for us to complete our preparations. Julius and I were preparing the sides of the valley for the avalanche while Radu slept. During the day, it was easier to see for such delicate and precise work.

  “Are we sure these things will work?” Julius questioned.

  I was careful to chip away at the rocky soil I was about to drop the cylinder into. “Radu says that the gunpowder, once lit, will act as a catalyst. I have to take his word for it.” With the hole made, I inserted the gunpowder housing, with just enough sticking out, just as Radu had shown us.

  Julius finished doing the same. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” he started.

  As far as I knew, there had been no loose ends hanging between the two of us. “What is it, Julius?”

  “How do you plan to get into Vlad’s castle?”

  I froze. I hadn’t mentioned a word of my desire to free Abigail from the eternal torment that I knew Vlad was inflicting upon her. I hadn’t had a dream involving the witch since the day I learned Abigail was still alive, which bothered me. I wanted to know more—where she was and what condition she was in. The connection never came. I believed Esmerelda figured out that someone was infiltrating her mind.

  With the last gunpowder charges set, I didn’t have a task to ignore his question with. “How did you know?” I answered his question with one of my own.

  “Come now, Maximus,” he politely scolded. “We’ve been friends for ages. You care deeply for that girl, even if you don’t say so to the rest of us.”

  “Abigail was a companion who died while with me, or so I was led to believe. Finding out she’s still alive…that brought about feelings I’d never had to deal with,” I explained.

  He nodded with each word. “Yes, probably relief, excitement, maybe even more?” he prodded.

  “She was a companion to me, that was all,” I said, closing off this line of inquiry. “As for how I am going to get into his castle, that has yet to be discovered, though I do have an idea.”

  Julius didn’t say anything more, he just studied me. I felt uncomfortable and wanted to break the silence. “What if, instead of killing Bathori, I could kidnap her and use her caravan as a way into Vlad’s domain? Once inside, I could make a break for Abigail and leave before they discovered me.”

  “And Lady Bathori? How will you keep her subdued until you reach the heart of the Vatican?”

  “Her choices are to comply or die,” I said simply.

  “The simple believes everything, but the prudent gives thought to his steps,” Julius quoted. Proverbs 14:15, of course. “I think you’ll need a few more steps than just an ultimatum.”

  The ideal course would be to get Radu to go along, but his choice was clear. He didn’t want to suffer any more at the hands of his brother. The defeat in Milan took whatever was left of his confidence in his own abilities. The loss humanized him, but it also made him question his own being, his existence. Killing Vlad had been his mission from day one, yet the vampyre who was with us now ignored that calling.

  I didn’t know how to break him from that. “Radu won’t help, if that is what you are referring to.”

  “Such a waste of potential,” my friend lamented.

  It was, but that was neither here nor there. I didn’t have much else to discuss about it. I may have been a fool; it was just that taking no co
urse of action to save a friend was worse than trying and failing. Bathori may present a challenge I wasn’t prepared for, that much was true, but I wouldn’t know unless I took the chance and found out.

  Julius didn’t bring the subject up again. The next day and a half, until it was time to leave, was full of curious glances and half smiles. I would return them, much to the annoyance of Radu. “What are you two playing at?” he’d rasp out.

  When we wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer, he’d storm around our hideout until he ran out of ways to express his irritation. That all changed the night we expected the caravan to travel through the pass.

  A cold wind whipped around, stirring up some of the powdery snow on top. We were in position, just out of sight along the edges of the valley. Radu was up on the plateaus—it was his job to light the fuses. Knowing how quickly he worked, if my improvisation plan was to be effective, I’d have to move faster. My saving grace was tampering with the charges I’d set. The delay would hopefully give me enough time to hijack the caravan she was in and get that one away, while the rest fell under the crushing effects of the avalanche.

  A soft sound broke the quiet night. Julius’s signal was clear, the distinct sound of a rock tapping three times against the valley wall. From his vantage point, he must’ve seen the lights of the caravan traveling. With the signal delivered, I had maybe a few minutes at most to go forth. I took off from my spot, rushed passed Julius and towards the caravan.

  The lead carriage was small, unassuming. There was a vampyre riding on top of it who never saw me or my attack coming. I jumped up with my sword and chopped his head off. With no one to control the horses, the smaller wagon began twisting and turning erratically.

  Those charges, even as delayed as some were, were about to go off. The second carriage was much nicer, ornate with gold inlays. This was the one I wanted. The driver was trying to keep his horses under control with the chaos ensuing from the wandering carriage just in front of his. I hopped up to him and kicked him off. As he fell to the ground, I lashed out with my flail, breaking his skull wide open. With this carriage under my control, I grabbed the reigns and beckoned the horses forward with a stiff hand and loud command.

  I rushed us from the valley as fast as we could. The sounds of Radu’s gunpowder blowing apart the valley walls deafened my ears in the night. Snow began to gush forward, down onto the rest of the caravan that was caught so grossly unprepared. We had to make haste to avoid that fate ourselves, so I continued to push the horses forward as fast as they could run.

  When the sounds of the avalanche began to dissipate, I knew we were in the clear. I ripped the reigns to bring the horses to a stop and hopped down. Two vampyres exited the coach, both men, though they weren’t long for this world. With the cross, I staked one in the forehead and the other in the throat. I didn’t even pause as they fell to the snow, red staining the otherwise pristine powder.

  Another, much larger vampyre burst free from the other side. “Oh, a challenge?” I snickered.

  The big guy just grunted. He was wearing a black smock and brandished a large hammer-like weapon. With his fangs showing and red eyes flaring, he brought the large iron mallet down. It missed me, but holy hell did it leave an impression. The head sunk into the snow, cracking the frozen ground beneath.

  The flail was my weapon of choice. With a good back motion, I whipped it forward towards his large-framed body. The oaf didn’t even try to block it, instead he tried to attack at the same time. The ball end of the flail sped right into him, burying itself in his chest. He stumbled forward, the weight of his hammer bringing him all the way down.

  Bringing the flail back, I unsheathed my grandfather’s sword and stabbed the beast in the heart as I walked by. He let out a guttural groan and flinched a few times before he became silent. With all the assailants dead, it was time to confront Lady Bathori and let her know she had a new escort.

  I opened the carriage door and shoved my sword towards her face. “I apologize, my lady, but this is a kidna—”

  “Hello, Maximus,” the voice said. A voice I would know anywhere.

  My eyes refused to accept what they saw. “No, no… This is impossible. You’re supposed to be at Vlad’s castle, being tortured!”

  Her red lame eyes expressed sorrow. “They tortured the information out of me. I don’t remember when I slipped, but they know about the connection with Esmerelda. You were shown what they wanted you to see.”

  Dammit! The visions were used against me, I was set up like a fool. That’s what Esmerelda was doing at the end of the final vision, she was confirming that I’d been present, that I was going to take the bait. Like a fool, I rushed in without all the information. Julius’s Bible passage was right and here I was, all alone with a hostile.

  Abigail, for I knew it was her, was now a vampyre. “Where’s Bathori?” I asked dumbly. It was the only thing I could think to say.

  “When Vlad tasted my blood, he knew from that moment I was a Dracul. Months passed, then years; with little else to do, I eventually gave in to the pain and suffering.” The pain was palpable in her voice. “After I was turned, he killed Bathori and placed me in a position of power. A Dracul, he told me, should have a seat on his council.”

  No words came to me. The sky began to open up and snow fell as the two of us just looked at each other. Was Abigail still a friend or did I have a new foe?

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  O nce the snowstorm subsided, the sun began to break through the clouds. Abigail was asleep, trusting me not to kill her. My feelings were so conflicted about all of this that twice I vomited through the door window. I clung tight to the cross Alejandro made for me and to my Bible. I stay huddled up in the corner until the sun disappeared and my hostage began to wake.

  “I thought I would be dead,” the waking vampyre said.

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  She lifted herself up into a seated position. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, Maximus. I was weak and betrayed you. Worse, fearing death, I gave in to the promises Vlad made, if only to remain alive, in some state.”

  I couldn’t tell if it was sleep deprivation that was influencing me, or the unnatural beauty that Abigail had been granted, but my heart began to speed up. Looking at her brought about unnatural thoughts. “All the blame lies with me. I failed us that night, no one else.”

  “No,” she whispered. “Vlad was always going to beat us at that time. Our boastfulness and successes paved a path that would only lead to defeat. You should not hang your head so.”

  The odd silence crept back in. Breaking it, “Where does this leave us? Are we enemies?”

  What bothered me the most was Abigail’s meekness. Granted, I didn’t know the trials and tribulations she faced while I was a drunk in Rota, yet was she not a vampyre? Power should be radiating through her! I was in awe of the woman in front of me even though I shouldn’t be.

  Where were these strange feelings and desires coming from? “The nature of me being a vampyre is what is stirring within you, Maximus,” she answered the unasked question.

  “I’m confused.”

  She dropped the hood covering her red hair. The waves in her hair were enchanting to me. “There is a reason that vampyres can infiltrate cities and populations. When we are touched, as we are, our physical attraction is boosted; the pheromones produced are irresistible to humans.”

  I’d never been around a female vampyre before. In fact, all the vampyres I’d ever slayed that came to Stefania were males. Of course, I had my dealings with Radu. Had I missed the obvious signs of this supernatural charming? I cursed myself for my lack of knowledge about the fairer sex and their transformations.

  Either Abigail’s intuition or familiarity of me made it easy to read my thoughts or she’d gained daemon powers to break into my mind. “Knowledge of women vampyres is limited. I’m only the third to have been given the mark and extended life. Vlad considers women to be more appropriate as consorts and
housemaids.”

  By God, the more we sat here and spoke as friends, the less chance there would be for me to stake her. Who was I kidding? The chances of me killing Abigail had sailed away. “Just the third?” I asked.

  “Bathori was plotting a takeover of Vlad’s Drakovia. When he saw that he had broken me, being family, the logical decision in his mind was to taint me to usurp her,” she told me. “However, my position in Munich is just as a figurehead. As I am quite young, in terms of vampyres, my presence there is to remind all who serve him that a Dracul is always watching.”

  There was much more I wanted to know, however no questions came to my mind. Instead, it was Abigail’s turn to ask of me. “Where did you go? Rumors ran rampant the first few months after our defeat. Some believed you were biding your time to strike when Vlad wasn’t prepared. Others said you sank into despair, never to be seen again.”

  “The second rumors were correct,” I informed her. “I went to Rota, Spain, as far away as I could go. I drank most days and became a terrible fisherman. I was alive, but I wasn’t living.”

  “If it matters to you, seeing you alive and well again has brought me joy; something I haven’t felt since the day the daemonic cold swept over me.”

  I still couldn’t find the words I would use to describe my own feelings. Here sat Abigail, as much alive as a vampyre could be. She was wearing a fine dress with a hooded cloak over it. Everything about her features was flawless, perfect. Even her eyes, as crippled as they were the first day we met, had a softness to them not even the red irises could take away.

  She put out a hand to me. “Even though I’m no longer human, I still remember everything that happened as a human. Come with me, Maximus. We can disappear into the mountainside and live the life we were destined to.”