Blood on Silk (16 page)

“Scotland,” Karl blurted.

Saloman blinked. “Scotland? Why Scotland?” He laughed. “Surely not for the climate.”

“But yes, for the mist,” Karl babbled. “Lajos says he learned masking from an Ancient. That, combined with the mist, means even an Ancient could never find him. But I told you where to look!”

“So you did,” Saloman said. “Thanks.” And tore his throat out.

The blood was good.

“T
his is amazing.” Elizabeth gazed around in wonder. Although the building above was unexceptional, if old and spacious, the basement housed a huge library that seemed to stretch forever. The walls were lined with apparently infinite mahogany and glass bookcases. Tall filing cabinets were scattered among dark wood desks and tables, several of which supported computer terminals. Large and lavish Turkish rugs covered the floor, adding a bizarre air of opulence to the otherwise austere academic surroundings.

At the nearest computer, housed on a high, round table like an old-fashioned library-issue desk, stood a middle-aged man in spectacles, which gleamed at her benignly.

Konrad said, “This is our librarian, Miklós. Miklós, Elizabeth Silk from the UK. She’s helping us with the Saloman problem.”

Elizabeth had the grace to blush as she accepted Miklós’s proffered hand. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I
caused
the Saloman problem.”

“These things happen,” the librarian said, and a breath of laughter escaped Elizabeth because he might have been excusing her for having damaged a book by leaving it in the rain instead of unleashing on the world the most powerful and evil vampire of all time.

Covering her inappropriate mirth, Elizabeth wandered over to the nearest bookcase, gazing in wonder at the ancient bindings. “All this is purely vampire related?”

“Directly, or indirectly,” Miklós said. “We have the general reference books necessary to any decent library, plus several related to the paranormal, biographical, and historical areas. We have all the demonologies and supernatural works ever published, plus several that never saw the light of day. We had our own printing press for a while, so there are many learned texts published privately by our predecessors. Every document collected over the centuries pertaining to vampires or the supernatural world in general is kept here, indexed and catalogued. Diaries, letters, confessions, witness statements, even scraps of partially destroyed documents. We never throw anything away. We also have painstakingly compiled genealogies and biographies of all the known vampires born in eastern Europe or living here, which account for more than half of the world’s vampire population.”

Elizabeth’s researcher’s heart beat faster. What she could learn here . . . ! “And you maintain this huge collection all on your own?”

“Hardly,” Konrad answered. “Miklós has a team of assistant librarians and researchers, all dedicated to getting us the information we need as fast as possible. We also have our own medical staff. Others are field operatives, like István and Mihaela and me.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Are you government controlled? Funded?”

“Oh, no,” Miklós replied. “Our funding is private and comes from a variety of sources, all expertly and wisely invested: trusts and funds begun all over the world centuries ago; treasure confiscated from several wealthy vampires we’ve terminated over the years; donations of all sizes from many sources, including grateful would-be victims we’ve helped, as well as individual hunters.”

Miklós smiled slightly at Elizabeth’s obvious surprise. “Hunters are salaried, but their life tends to become their work, and much of it is given back to the organization at death, if not before. The same is true of the upper administrative staff such as me, and even the Grand Masters themselves.”

Before Elizabeth, insatiably curious, could ask about the Grand Masters, Miklós hurried on. “As for government control, I’d say we are government-
tolerated.
But only a few at the very heart of government have ever known of our existence. The Communist regime ignored us almost completely, which was actually more comfortable than the occasional curious visitors from the present government. But secrecy is maintained. It has to be.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked. She could guess some of the reasoning, but she was eager to hear it all.

“Well, for one thing, the population would demand we be shut down as crackpots,” Konrad said dryly. “For another, we don’t want to be pestered by lunatics and attention seekers who’d waste our time. Nor do we want to advertise our location to vampires. This building is shielded and has never been breached. We need it to remain that way. And then, of course, there is the matter of human panic. Most people would not be happy in the knowledge that they share their planet with monsters from horror movies. We don’t want to precipitate a full-scale war between the species. It’s a war that humans, despite their overwhelming numbers, could only lose. So, for all these reasons, very few people are ever told of our existence.”

“I feel incredibly—honored,” Elizabeth murmured.

“You are,” Konrad said with a twisted smile. He turned to Miklós. “Can you find Elizabeth everything we have on Saloman?”

“Everything?” For the first time, Miklós looked daunted.

“Everything,” Konrad repeated. “But there’s no rush. Elizabeth will be with us for some time.”

“I can’t stay indefinitely, though. I have to be back in Scotland in a couple of weeks. Three at the most,” she amended, with a quick glance around the shelves. “Um—can we catch Saloman in that time?”

“Oh yes. We all need to do a bit more research, a bit more training. His awakening rather caught us off guard. But we have all we need here to get up to speed on him. And then we can return to Transylvania and nail the bastard.”

Elizabeth looked at him, but he’d already turned away, ready to leave the library and continue the tour. She closed her mouth, keeping the churning excitement to herself for now. There would be other times to say she didn’t believe they’d need to go back to Transylvania. Saloman had told her so. He was looking for “urban” fun. He’d come to the biggest city in the region, and he’d challenged her to follow.

Emerging from Mihaela’s spare bedroom, Elizabeth hesitated at the living room door. Mihaela was curled up in an armchair, nursing a glass of wine and reading a book spread open on her lap.

Elizabeth had gone along with the hunters’ plans for her to stay with Mihaela in Budapest, but she felt unsure of her place here—lodger or guest?—and was reluctant to butt in any further.

This flat was clearly Mihaela’s escape from work. Light and bright and modern, it contained no obvious reference to the supernatural world, which had to be a huge part of the hunter’s life. Elizabeth felt like an intruder.

Mihaela twisted around to face her and gave a quick smile. “Glass of wine?”

The invitation seemed genuine. Gratefully, Elizabeth walked into the room and settled in the vacant armchair while Mihaela poured red wine into the empty glass already waiting for her on the low table.

“There’s a casserole in the oven,” Mihaela said. “It should be ready in half an hour.”

“This is very good of you,” Elizabeth said awkwardly, picking up the glass.

“Nonsense. All part of the service.” With another grin, Mihaela raised her glass, and Elizabeth smiled back before leaning over to “clink” with her.

“You mean you often have to take in waifs and strays in the line of duty?” Elizabeth asked.

“Homeless victims usually stay at headquarters until they’re ready to return to their lives. But you’re not really a victim, are you? More of a temporary recruit.”

“Do you have many of those?”

Mihaela sipped her wine. “Victims or recruits?”

“Both.”

Mihaela shrugged. “Too many victims, not enough recruits. Ours is a rather specialized field of work.”

Elizabeth regarded her curiously. Mihaela was an attractive woman, probably in her thirties. She wore no wedding ring. No photographs around the flat advertised the existence of children or other family. Elizabeth wondered what went on in the other woman’s life; how much time she spent here in this cozy yet impersonal apartment. Not much, she guessed. Mihaela wasn’t driven toward home-making,

“So how did you come into it?” Elizabeth asked. “Is vampire hunting a recognized career path in this part of the world?”

Mihaela gave a hiss of amusement. “Hardly. Most of us were witnesses of vampire attacks, or even victims, and were helped by the organization.” Although she spoke lightly, matter-of-factly, a shadow seemed to pass across her dark eyes and vanish. “Like you.”

Elizabeth didn’t take the hint. “Which were you? Victim or witness?”

“Both, as it happens. Don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry.” Elizabeth took a quick mouthful of wine before setting down her glass. “The way you dealt with those vampires the other night, the way you just got up and got on with it after Zoltán’s attack . . . It’s hard to imagine you terrified and helpless.”
Like me.
“You always seem so strong and capable and aware.”

Mihaela’s eyes dropped to her wine. “If I am, it’s because I’ve learned to be.”

“When did it happen?”

“When I was a kid.” For a moment, Elizabeth thought she wouldn’t say any more. Then she carried on almost abruptly. “My parents were killed at home by a fledgling vampire. I was rescued by hunters who arrived in time to kill it and save me. They were too late for my parents.” Mihaela drained her glass in one quick, jerky movement. It was the only sign of distress she betrayed.

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face. There were worse, much worse experiences than her own. As Mihaela raised her dark, haunted eyes, Elizabeth glimpsed there the quiet, driven child who’d turned into this fearless, dedicated woman, determined never to be too late for anyone else.

“Mihaela,” she said helplessly. How did you give sympathy for such a thing? What words could possibly make a difference to what Mihaela had suffered?

But the hunter clearly didn’t want sympathy. The instant of vulnerability, if it had ever really been there, had vanished. Mihaela reached for the wine bottle. “Growing up, I spent a lot of time with vampire hunters. It seemed natural to follow them.”

“You’ve been a hunter all of your adult life?” Elizabeth held out her glass to receive the offered top-up.

“Yes. Dull, isn’t it? Cheers.”

Elizabeth blinked. “
Dull?
Terrifying. Amazing. Entirely admirable. But surely not dull!”

Mihaela laughed. “You’d be surprised,” she said, unwinding herself from the chair and standing up. “Mostly it’s keeping track of and dispatching weak, fledgling vampires before they can cause any trouble. Hungry? I’ll check on dinner.”

Saloman almost missed the Angel Club. Its entrance was on an insignificant side street, close to the Danube in the old district of Buda. The faint echo of pounding rock music, picked up by his sensitive ears, could have come from any number of nearby clubs on either side of the river. Over the last few nights, he’d visited most of them, drawn by their sheer energy and the strange excitement of the unnecessarily loud, compelling music. He’d learned quickly to distinguish between the various types of modern music, and rejected jangly dance music in favor of live rock bands.