Blood Eternal (6 page)
Experimenting, he spoke the name of Luk’s killer. “Saloman.”
The vampire’s head jerked up. Another of those weird, preternatural wails escaped his lips, turning Dante’s blood to ice in his veins. There was fury there, and pain. But what interested Dante was the recognition. Only Saloman’s name had produced this reaction since the vampire had awakened. It
must
be Luk. . . .
must
be Luk. . . .
“What is
your
name?” Dante asked. “Who are you? What are you?”
your
name?” Dante asked. “Who are you? What are you?”
The wailing stopped. The vampire bowed his head. “I am Luk. I am the Guardian.”
“Guardian of what?” Dante asked.
“I am the Guardian. I am Luk.”
“Okay. Luk . . .” Time could be running out. The only thing he knew definitely was that this truly was Luk. “Luk, have you ever made a vampire?”
“Of course.” Although the words sounded certain, the doubtful look that went with them was not encouraging.
“Do you remember how? Would you turn me?”
Luk laughed again, this time with more obvious amusement, which piqued Dante into uncharacteristic anger. “What’s so funny? I can look after you. We can be buddies, feed together, rule together.”
Something changed in Luk’s face at that. His head paused in midshake, and he lifted one hand to his beard, stroking it as if to remind himself what it felt like. Dante caught himself wondering whether it grew, if vampires had to shave, before pulling himself up to concentrate on more important matters.
“Friends,” Luk said sadly.
Dante smiled encouragement. “That’s it, Luk. Friends. I need to be strong, like you.” Aware of the risk, yet sure now that he had to take it and take it quickly, before the world in general and the hunters in particular descended upon them, Dante inched closer and turned his head to one side.
Luk’s gaze became riveted on the region of his jugular.
“Please,” Dante whispered. “Will you turn me?”
He intended to tempt the vampire, explain his needs with this bit of visual impact. For some reason, he thought there would be discussion, a time of preparation, maybe even more persuasion. When Luk fell on his neck, he cried out in alarm, but Luk did not stop. There was piercing, agonizing pain as the vampire tore his flesh. Instinctively, although he’d wanted this for so long, Dante reached up in pure panic to shove him off, but even with his arms bound and useless, the vampire simply hung on with his teeth. His strength was overwhelming, utterly terrifying.
Oh, fuck. Now I’m
really
going to die. He’s going to kill me outright without turning me.
really
going to die. He’s going to kill me outright without turning me.
Maybe he should have stuck to politics, mixed with a bit of business. It was only when he’d begun his serious research into the occult, into immortality, that everything had started to go wrong for him. . . .
The vampire drank his blood in loud, massive gulps. Dante’s consciousness, his very life, ebbed faster than he’d ever believed possible. He couldn’t feel pain anymore. But neither did he experience the pleasure that some victims of vampire bites confessed to. He felt only rage because he was going to die after all, and stay dead. Dizziness consumed him. He was going to sleep, dying, God damn it.
God damn the whole fucking world. All I wanted was a little longer, a little more. . . .
God damn the whole fucking world. All I wanted was a little longer, a little more. . . .
“Drink.” The voice seemed to come from very far away, yet echoed so deeply inside him that he imagined it was God himself. His vision was clouded, almost foggy. He could barely make out the shape of the vampire, who had clearly burst free of his bonds, for he pushed Dante’s face into cold, bony, slippery flesh.
Dante tasted the salt of cool blood on his lips and with stunned exaltation licked at the wound, then sucked without conscious volition. The vampire’s teeth buried themselves once more in his neck as Dante drank from Luk’s wrist. His heart thundered in his ears as if it would burst, but he couldn’t stop sucking. Instead the compulsion overwhelmed him—almost like his late wife had once described the urge to “push” during the final stages of labor—forcing him to stronger and stronger pulls. He couldn’t locate the pain; it was all over his body, excruciating, unbearable. And yet he did bear it, couldn’t bring himself to stop drinking the thick, cold blood that was drowning the pain in weird, triumphant physical pleasure.
There were two heartbeats now, out of time and rhythm, growing louder and louder in his head, vibrating through his body like a pile driver, and then slowing, slowing until the beats matched perfectly, and they were both the same.
Chapter Three
I
t was just another New York bar: noisy, crowded with people from all walks of life; customers shouting their orders over the din of the music; couples holding hands in booths; groups of increasingly loud friends solving the world’s problems around a table full of beer; a small, crowded square of dancers at the back, lit by erratic, flashing spotlights; a vampire in the corner enjoying a quiet meal.
t was just another New York bar: noisy, crowded with people from all walks of life; customers shouting their orders over the din of the music; couples holding hands in booths; groups of increasingly loud friends solving the world’s problems around a table full of beer; a small, crowded square of dancers at the back, lit by erratic, flashing spotlights; a vampire in the corner enjoying a quiet meal.
Cyn leapt forward. The light flickered, but she could still see the red-haired vampire bent over the throat of a smartly dressed young man who held his suit jacket casually over one shoulder.
“Got him, Rudy!” Cyn said into the microphone pinned under her lapel. “He’s right at the back, and he already has a victim.”
She wasn’t used to doing this in public. Normally, she and Rudy followed vampires to their lairs or dispatched them in deserted dark alleyways. But it shouldn’t make any difference. The vampire would turn to dust and no one would be any wiser. She just hoped the victim would still be alive enough to get to a hospital.
As always, Cyn’s blood ran cold as she came up close to the vampire. Every sense screamed at her. She ignored the feeling as she always did, simply drew the stake from her pocket and without pause plunged it hard toward the vampire’s back. Her aim was good; the wood should pierce his heart.
It didn’t. In the last instant, the vampire moved, spinning faster than Cyn could see, and snatched the stake from her hand. For an instant, blazing amber eyes like a wolf’s stared into hers before she kicked his legs from under him, grabbed the victim by the hand, and ran for the door.
Startled people jumped back out of her way, desperate to avoid whatever trouble this turned out to be. As Cyn zigzagged between the tables, she could feel the vampire’s watching eyes on the back of her neck like pricks of fire. Worse, she could have sworn she heard him laugh.
Rudy, who’d have been frightened by her long silence, was already at the door, reaching out to take the victim’s weight from her.
“He’s still in there.” Cyn gasped as the door swung shut behind them. “I couldn’t get him. He might be following us.”
Rudy grunted, heading into the next street—the bar occupied the whole corner—where the pickup truck was parked. “You get this guy to the hospital and I’ll go meet the vamp.”
“He’s fast, Rudy,” Cyn warned. “You can’t take him alone. And we don’t—”
“What the hell’s going on here?” the victim interrupted, straightening in Rudy’s hold and making a vague movement to shake him off. “Who are you? And who in God’s name was
that
?”
that
?”
Rudy propped him up against the bar window as he stared from one of them to the other. He’d seemed dazed as she’d dragged him through the bar, but not unduly weak.
“Do you remember what happened to you in there?” Cyn asked cautiously.
The man touched his neck. It looked involuntary. By the streetlight, when his fingers fell away again, she could see only faint red marks, like a minor injury that had already healed.
“I remember what almost happened.” The man’s eyes fixed on her. “You think he’s a vampire,” he said incredulously.
“He bit you,” Cyn pointed out. “You’re only alive because I interrupted his meal.”
“Not true,” said an amused voice close by. Cyn’s head snapped around. The red-haired vampire leaned one shoulder negligently against the bar window, so close to the corner that passersby actually brushed against his back. Cyn fumbled a fresh stake from her pocket. Rudy already had one in each hand.
The vampire eased his shoulder off the window and took two paces nearer. “I had no intention of killing him. If you’ll notice, I even troubled to heal his wound before I disarmed
you
.”
you
.”
Cyn exchanged baffled glances with Rudy, and this time the vampire definitely laughed.
“You don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you? You’re not even hunters. You’ve no idea what’s going on. Let me give you a piece of advice before I leave you: Find out who your enemies are before you start killing.”
“Oh, we have no problem there,” Rudy said grimly, advancing on the vampire, but Cyn caught his arm.
“Wait,” she said urgently. “There’re more of them, lots more, coming this way.”
“How do you know?” Rudy demanded, but at least he did pause, because he knew she felt things he didn’t. But Cyn had never felt anything this strongly before. The chill of vampire presence magnified so strongly that her knees began to shake.
“I feel them,” she whispered. “Too many. We’ve got to get out of here.”
The vampire gave a lopsided smile and turned on his heel. He walked back around the corner and disappeared.
Rudy was already opening the truck door.
“We’ll drop you at the hospital,” Cyn said to the victim, who looked more baffled than scared.
“I’m fine,” he said vaguely. “Vampires? This is crazy. I’m going to follow that guy, see where he goes.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” Rudy said, starting the engine. “That many vampires getting together is worse than dangerous. Hop in with us. If you want to live.”
The man climbed aboard with alacrity and Cyn squashed in beside him, slamming the door as the truck took off.
“Right,” Cyn ordered.
“Pete Carlile,” said the man, offering his hand to Cyn.
“Cynthia Venolia. You can call me Cyn. And this is Rudy Meyer.”
“And this is what you do? Kill vampires? Like Blade?”
“I always preferred Buffy. Blade
is
a vampire, isn’t he?”
is
a vampire, isn’t he?”
“He isn’t real,” Pete Carlile said cautiously, and across his body Cyn exchanged grins with Rudy.
“It’s okay,” Cyn assured him. “We get that. Shit, Rudy, look.”
Rudy slowed the truck just as a bunch of men spilled out of the alley beside them. They were fighting in eerie silence, with movements that went way beyond the speed of human fights. But among them, Cyn could make out the bright red hair of the vampire they’d been hunting all evening, the one who’d bitten Pete. Worse, it seemed to be an unequal fight, with their vampire among the majority.
“Fuck,” Rudy exclaimed. “We have to help.”
Cyn lunged over Pete and caught Rudy’s hand on the door. “They’re all vampires,” she said.
Rudy paused and looked at her. “
All
of them?”
All
of them?”
“All of them.”
Rudy frowned. “What the hell are they fighting over? Scraps of human?”
“It’s happened before,” Cyn pointed out. “Three months ago. The so-called gang fights all over the city, remember?”
A vampire in the melee exploded into dust.
“Jesus Christ,” Pete whispered.
The red-haired vampire straightened and looked directly at the halted truck. He said something and another vampire turned to follow his gaze: a tall, fair being with a trilby hat pushed to the back of his head. Wild blue eyes seemed to cut through the glass and burn her.
“Drive!” she was able to get out, but Rudy had already slammed the truck in gear and they jolted off down the road.
As the oppressive vampire presence began to fade, Cyn released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Shit, this is weird,” Pete observed.
“You’re telling me,” Rudy agreed.
You’re not even hunters. . . .
“What if Elizabeth’s right?” Cyn said suddenly.
“What if Elizabeth’s right?” Cyn said suddenly.
“Elizabeth?”
“Elizabeth Silk. Mrs. Sherlock. The British chick.”
“About what?”
“Everything. The vampire war caused by this Ancient your ancestor is meant to have staked. The ‘official’ vampire hunters. The different strengths and personalities of vampires. That blond one, with our target—he was strong, stronger than any I’ve ever felt.”
Cyn’s hand shook slightly as she dragged it through her tight curls, and she felt Rudy’s anxious glance.
“That redheaded bastard was right too,” she added, with a jerk of her head behind her. “We started this to do some good, to prevent what happened to you from happening to anyone else. But we really
don’t
know what’s going on. We don’t know why our target left Pete alive. We don’t know what side he’s on, or how the outcome of this war is going to affect humanity. Maybe we should find out before we go any farther.”
don’t
know what’s going on. We don’t know why our target left Pete alive. We don’t know what side he’s on, or how the outcome of this war is going to affect humanity. Maybe we should find out before we go any farther.”
Finally, she turned and looked beyond Pete to Rudy’s profile. “Otherwise, we’re blundering about in the dark. And may well do more harm than good.”
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