The Blood Thief of Whitten Hall (A Magic & Machinery Novel Book 2) (31 page)

The vampire stepped toward him as the glow from the small fire faded into obscurity. Rather than advancing on the monster, Simon turned and ran in the opposite direction as quickly as his legs could handle. He knew the vampire was far quicker, but they didn’t have far to go.

The vampire struck him across the back as it quickly closed the distance between them. Simon tumbled forward, barely avoiding a jutting stone that most certainly would have fractured bones. He rolled gracefully to his feet and continued running, ignoring the vampire behind him as best as possible.

The tree line rapidly approached, but the vampire was once again quicker. It ran beside Simon before throwing its weight into his shoulder. He careened to the side, tripping over a stone and skidding to his hands and knees. He could feel the uneven ground biting into his knees and palms, and he winced at the sharp pain. Where he had clutched the knife, it had been his knuckles that had dragged across the ground and acute agony rolled up his arm.

The vampire paused at the smell of blood. Simon glanced over his shoulder. Even in the darkness, he could see the conflicting emotions on the creature’s face. It clearly intended to kill him, but seemed hesitant to simply drain him of his blood. There was no doubt in the Inquisitor’s mind that the vampire had received specific orders about his treatment and eventual disposition.

With the vampire temporarily distracted, Simon crawled into the underbrush. When he was clear of the bushes, he stood and stumbled forward, even as the vampire crashed unceremoniously through the foliage.

It paused as it realized that Simon had stopped his retreat. He stood facing the vampire, the knife held aloft in his hand. The vampire barely had a moment to register the rope beside him before Simon brought down his arm.

The rope severed as he cut through it with the blade. With the released tension, the sapling sprung blindingly forward, the sharpened stakes leading its arc. The vampire hissed and tried to step aside, but he moved too late. The stakes pierced his right chest and down into his stomach. The vampire tilted its head backward and howled in pain.

Simon smiled, glad that the abominations could properly feel pain. Though everything he was doing held a clinical detachment for him, there was a gleeful side to his experimentation, one in which he willingly caused the anguish of the monsters trying to kill him.

The vampire clutched the branch and tried to remove the wooden stakes, though it clearly moved with great hesitation. It realized its own mortality against the wooden spears puncturing its body and refused to be too hasty. Simon counted on its hesitation as he grabbed the looped and knotted end of the second rope and ran behind the vampire.

He slipped the longest loop around the vampire’s throat, pulling the noose tight. As it pulled its arms away from the branch in surprise, Simon placed slipknots over each arm. He placed his foot in the creature’s back and pulled with all his weight. As the knots cinched tightly, it jerked the monster’s arms backward and together. The last two loops went around the vampire’s ankles and were similarly tightened.

The vampire alternated struggling against its bonds and staring down at the stakes, which moved closer to its heart with every jerk of its body. Simon knew the creature would break free quickly, so he rushed to the tree trunk and grasped the far end of the knotted rope. Throwing his weight against it, the rope pulled taut, lifting the vampire from the ground. Its ankles were pulled awkwardly toward its wrists, stealing any hope of leverage and, hopefully, any chance of it breaking its bonds.

With the vampire incapacitated, Simon approached it cautiously. It glowered at him and hissed, revealing its fangs.

“I’ll kill you for this, human!” it howled. “I’ll drink your blood. The chancellor be damned, I’ll crush your bloodless skull between my bare hands.”

Simon’s hand shot out and he slit the vampire’s throat with the knife. The creature gurgled, despite the lack of blood that seeped from the wound. It stared at him in disbelief and then tried to rail against him once more, only to find that the slit to his throat stole his voice as well.

“Thank God,” Simon muttered. “I was starting to think you’d perform a full monologue before I got you quiet.”

Ignoring the vampire’s rage, Simon pulled the stakes free of the creature’s body. Without the wooden spears and the reedy tree holding him in place, the vampire spun lazily in the air at the end of the rope. The noose tightened further just above the gash to the creature’s neck, yet neither was enough to kill the undead monster.

Simon returned to the rope and pulled the vampire higher until its feet hovered just above the Inquisitor’s head. Satisfied, Simon sat down on the ground and stared up at the hate-filled visage.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here at all,” Simon began. “Why I didn’t just kill you to start with. The simple answer is that I need answers from you, answers that only you possess. The more complex answer is that you are, for all intents and purposes, a science experiment.”

Simon reached into the burlap bag and pulled free the second apple. The exertion had left him bone weary and starving. He bit into the crisp apple and chewed noisily.

“I have a friend, as you’re well aware, who would bemoan my need to perform science experiments. He’s a much more straightforward man than you would ever believe, hardly ever making time for the finer pursuits in life.”

Carving free another slice with his knife, he raised it to his lips before pausing. He glanced down at the knife as though realizing for the first time that the blade that just cut his fruit had, moments before, cut the throat of a vampire. Disgusted, he dropped the apple to the ground and wiped his hands on his pants.

“I’m sure what you want to know is what sort of experiment I intend to conduct and how you play a role. The first part of my experiment is how quickly you can heal from a wound like the one on your neck. My hypothesis is that you’ll be fully healed before sunrise, but we shall see, won’t we?”

The vampire gurgled angrily, but Simon ignored him.

“The second part is a confirmation of modern mythology. You see, it’s said that vampires are destroyed by the first rays of morning.”

The anger in the vampire’s eyes quickly changed to fear, and he jerked futilely against his ropes.

“Since none of you have bothered to show yourself during the day, the truth would lend itself toward mythology. However, what good scientist would I be if I merely took the word of third-party observations and conjecture?”

Simon stood and dusted off his pants. He glanced through the woods, despite how dark it had grown underneath the canopy of leaves. Turning back toward the vampire, he knelt and collected his bag.

“I’m going to leave you for a bit,” Simon said as he passed underneath the vampire. “Do keep in mind that I will be very put out should you not be here upon my return.”

Simon stepped through the underbrush, ignoring the groaning of the rope as the vampire struggled to free itself.

The Inquisitor walked cautiously back to the cave, ensuring no other monsters had made their way to the edge of the valley in his absence. Seeing nothing, he rolled aside the rock and slipped into the cave. He wasn’t overly tired, since he had only recently awoken from his day-long rest, but he could think of no better place to pass the vampire-infested night.

When the moon was starting to set and the cool night’s breeze still crept around the edges of his capstone, Simon emerged from the cavern. The night was still and quiet, not necessarily something he appreciated. In many ways, he’d much prefer the traipsing of booted feet on dried leaves or the quiet cursing of someone tangled in the briar patches.

He set off at once toward his vampire captive, knowing that he was racing against the rising sun. The sky above the forest had begun to lighten, with shades of purples and deep blues permeating the otherwise black, starry night.

No other vampires interrupted him as he approached the forest, nor did he expect to encounter any. The sun was rising quickly, and the monsters would be scurrying back to their sunless mines to sleep away the day. He would have a slight reprieve from now until shortly after dawn, when the vampires were returning to bed and the human hunters weren’t yet out on the prowl. It was Simon’s time to appreciate the finer things in life, such as a captive vampire.

He pushed through the underbrush. The woods themselves were still dark, an inky blackness against which Simon’s eyes had to adjust. As he peered upward, he could see the vampire’s legs still dangling slightly above his head. The monster rotated slowly at the end of the noose and as he turned toward Simon, the Inquisitor could see the hatred burning behind the creature’s red eyes.

“Forgive this dreadful pun, but thank you for hanging around until I returned,” Simon chided as he stepped past the creature.

“Release me,” the vampire whispered, its voice a hoarse croak.

Simon turned toward the vampire inquisitively and squinted to see the wound on the creature’s neck. The previously wide gash had mostly closed, leaving a puckered scar that, in time, would also disappear.

“You’re healing quite nicely and at a rate slightly quicker than I would have anticipated. Scientifically, you’re a fascinating specimen. I can’t say that any of my Inquisitor brethren have ever had such a close encounter with a creature such as you.”

The vampire jerked against his ropes, causing him to sway uncontrollably. “Release me, damn you!” the vampire said, though the harsh whisper lacked the conviction of his words.

Simon sat upon the ground and emptied his pockets onto the grass beside him. He set a pair of wooden stakes beside his stolen knife, arranging them neatly for future use. Pulling his pocket watch from his vest, he checked the time. If his estimation of sunrise were correct, they would have to speed their conversation along.

“I will free you but first, there are a few things we must discuss.”

“Feck you!” the vampire spat.

Simon shook his head, his eyes still watching the second hand tick away on his pocket watch. “Your demise will only be hastened by your rudeness. By my estimation, you have but a few more minutes before the sun rises through the trees behind me. It won’t be quick, mind you. The sunlight will filter through the dense leaves, sending small beams of light through the forest. You might—”

The vampire tossed himself about, bouncing wildly on the noose, but still to no avail. It remained a prisoner, despite its superhuman strength.

Simon glanced up, perturbed at the interruption. “You might get lucky and the first few rays will miss striking you, but your luck will eventually run out. Given enough time, your survivability is reduced to zero and, believe me, time is not on your side. It rather behooves you to answer my questions.”

The vampire stopped moving and merely swung like a pendulum until his momentum was spent. “What do you want to know?”

“What is the chancellor planning?”

The vampire glared at the Inquisitor, who sat nonchalantly upon the dew-covered moss and grass. “He wants you dead.”

Simon frowned and picked up one of the stakes, pointing its sharpened end toward the creature. “You’ll have to do far better than that. You’re painting your answers with a very broad brush, while I’d like to see a bit more minutia. Of course the chancellor wants me dead; it practically goes without saying. What I want to know is what he has planned for you and your kind. He knows I’m still alive in these woods and, by now, knows that I’m alone. Therefore, it’s only a matter of time before my companions return with reinforcements. So I will ask again—what is the chancellor planning?”

The vampire remained silent, merely glowering at the Inquisitor. Simon shrugged and tilted his head backward, staring at the dark sky through the shifting leaves. The black of the night sky had mostly receded, replaced by shades of blue.

“Answer or don’t answer,” Simon remarked. “It makes little difference. I would prefer an answer, but I can just as easily sit here with abject curiosity and watch you destroyed by the morning sun.”

The vampire tilted his head upward as well and looked at the lightening sky. His sheer hatred was tempered by a sudden fear.

“Release me,” it said.

Simon shook his head and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “That sounded an awful lot like a demand, and you’re hardly in a position to make those.”

Panic crept into the vampire’s voice as it continued. “Release me and I’ll tell you all that you want to know.”

Simon feigned interest in the stake in his hand, as though something in the texture of the smooth wood interested him. “You’d be amazed how often I’ve heard that very offer.” He looked up and arched an eyebrow. “You’d probably not be as surprised to know how many times I’ve refused that request.”

The vampire glanced toward the sky. A morning breeze shifted the leaves and he could see faint shades of pink on the horizon. “He’s planning on moving,” it said hastily.

“Moving where and how?”

“I… I don’t know where, but he has covered wagons and crates in which they can stay shielded from the sun.”

Simon smiled faintly. “Where is he keeping these wagons?”

The vampire glanced down at Simon before his gaze returned to the ever-closer sunrise. “At his manor house. They are being staged at his manor house. Now please, damn you, I fulfilled my end of the bargain, now live up to yours.”