Blood Eternal (12 page)
Saloman’s heart seemed to break. And then, with the sort of speed he’d almost forgotten, Luk launched himself at him.
Saloman fell back under the force. His arms, already lifted from instinct to defend and kill, lowered slowly around his cousin’s heaving body.
He wasn’t under attack; he was being embraced.
I can save him,
Saloman thought, stunned. Luk was collapsing under the force of returning identity. Saloman sank to his knees with him, holding him in compassion and happiness and sheer relief from a horror he had never wanted to acknowledge. Luk the Guardian of his people, the prophet, was back.
Saloman thought, stunned. Luk was collapsing under the force of returning identity. Saloman sank to his knees with him, holding him in compassion and happiness and sheer relief from a horror he had never wanted to acknowledge. Luk the Guardian of his people, the prophet, was back.
Over his bowed head, Saloman watched the vampires’ wary approach. Since his mask was already dropped for Luk, there was no need of any warning. They all knew they beheld Saloman, the Ancient, the overlord of the undead. And then there was Dante, looking exactly the same, although unable to resist smiling to show off his new vampire incisors.
Saloman wasn’t fooled. It hadn’t been part of Dante’s plan to have Luk return to the arms of his cousin and killer. Dante was worried.
“Luk!” the senator said sharply, and with rising fury Saloman understood that this was how he always addressed the being whose boots he wasn’t fit to lick.
Luk ignored him. The heaving of his shoulders had become almost convulsive, like a human battered by emotion. He needed peace for this, which he’d never get here.
“Luk, come with me,” Saloman whispered into his cousin’s hair.
“Saloman,” Luk said in wonder. His fingers grasped at Saloman’s back and slowly relaxed. His head lifted. “Saloman!”
There was no love, no happiness, left in those hazel eyes, just boiling fury and profound, gut-rotting hatred. It gave Saloman an instant’s warning—not enough to get his blow in first, but enough to let him fall without breaking his neck when Luk hurled him into the side of the hill.
Luk flew after him, baring his teeth for the bite. But Saloman forced himself to his feet and simply leapt over his cousin’s head, drawing sword and stake as he went, to face the lesser vampires. None of them was armed, except Dante, whom Saloman singled out.
“No mercy,” he hissed. “No quarter.”
“Saloman!” yelled Luk. “Don’t hurt your ‘brother’!”
Saloman adjusted his position to defend from either side. Luk lunged, but before he got close enough, Dante called in panic, “Stop! You’re not strong enough yet! He’ll kill us all! Back off!”
Then Luk stood between him and Dante as they backed away from him. Saloman strode forward, and they rushed backward to get away from him, tripping over each other. Saloman lashed out, killing two of the lesser vampires on Dante’s left with as many lightning strokes of his stake. Their bursting particles shimmered and blew away on the breeze.
Dante’s panic appeared to spread to Luk, who, with one last glare of hatred, grabbed Dante by the arm and ran, protecting his creation with his own body. Saloman contented himself with throwing his stake at one of the fleeing vampires trying to keep up, and felt a certain satisfaction when he turned to dust.
He stared after the running vampires until he could no longer see them, then slumped against the nearest rock. He had a plan for everything. For every possible contingency in the human and vampire worlds. Except killing the beloved cousin it might just be possible to save.
Luk was in Dante’s control, recovering his memory and his power; he threatened Saloman’s life and Saloman’s rule; he threatened the world.
And yet there had been a moment. . . .
Saloman closed his eyes, floundering for the first time in centuries.
What do I do? Elizabeth, what do I do now?
What do I do? Elizabeth, what do I do now?
Chapter Six
E
lizabeth opened her eyes with no clear sense of what had awakened her. It might have been the dog in the yard next door, emitting a kind of whimpering half bark, as if unsure whether it felt threatened.
lizabeth opened her eyes with no clear sense of what had awakened her. It might have been the dog in the yard next door, emitting a kind of whimpering half bark, as if unsure whether it felt threatened.
She and the hunters, having lost the trail early and left Saloman to pick it up again—against Konrad’s better judgment—had driven home and fallen into bed. Like the others, Elizabeth felt a sense of frustration, having traveled so far and come so close to the enemy, and yet failing to engage. And Saloman worried her. After sending his signal to guide her, he’d broken it off, only to communicate telepathically a little later that he’d killed a couple of the vampires but was still on the trail. And then, only a little after that, had come the advice to go home, because the vampires had separated, with Luk and Dante heading suddenly northeast, and the others south, closer to the hunters’ base. Saloman was following Luk, but advised Elizabeth to look for signs of vampire attack in the villages inland from Fethiye. It was possible Dante, or even Luk, had instructed them to create a fledgling army to distract the hunters.
Konrad especially had bridled at being “advised” by a vampire, but in fact, as István pointed out, it was the only sensible thing to do. Although there were hours of darkness left, pursuing vampires who moved much faster than humans was a thankless task at the best of times. They had to be tracked and ambushed, and that night the hunters had simply gone too far off the right path. At Elizabeth’s urging, Konrad had finally phoned Mustafa to let the Turkish hunters know Saloman’s warning about Fethiye. After which, exhausted and irritable, they’d all retired, aware that they might have to spend the next night executing violent yet more or less defenseless fledgling vampires.
But Elizabeth could have been asleep for only a couple of hours. It was still dark outside; no call to prayer sounded; even the cockerels were silent. She lay still for a moment, straining her ears. Her heart began to beat faster as she wondered if Saloman had returned. She slipped out from under the sheet and padded across the cool floor to the window. No familiar dark shadow lurked on the balcony or in the garden below. Moving quickly across to the other side of the room, she felt ridiculously disappointed to see no sign of him on the swimming pool side of the house either.
She should go back to bed and sleep. Only . . . Only, something felt wrong. Straining for Saloman’s presence, she was sure she sensed something else. Something she didn’t like. She moved silently to the bedside table and picked up the stake she’d kept close ever since her early encounters with Saloman. Holding it made her feel better. But not for long.
A clash of broken glass rent the air, followed closely by a male yell.
Konrad
.
.
Before the thought had passed through her brain, she was out of the bedroom door and leaping down the spiral stairs so fast she should have broken her neck. Konrad’s was the first door at the foot, and she hurled herself at it without warning or apology in time to see Konrad standing up on the bed, thrusting his stake into a shadowy figure that promptly vanished into darkness. But two more faced him, while a third advanced toward Elizabeth.
Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. She flung herself at one of Konrad’s assailants and felt her stake slide in. But the vampire was strong, and twisted so fast that the wood jammed hard against a rib. Snarling with pain, the vampire struck her, knocking her off him. Elizabeth hung on grimly to the stake as she fell to the unforgiving tiled floor. Since the stake came with her, she ignored the pain, hooked her ankle around the vampire’s leg, and yanked.
Taken by surprise, he fell awkwardly, and, knowing he would rectify that all too quickly, Elizabeth leapt onto him almost before he hit the floor. One powerful hand seized her throat, instantly squeezing, while the other grabbed for her stake. Evading his questing fingers for long enough to swap the stake to her left hand, she plunged down hard. Almost simultaneously, the constriction on her throat relaxed and the vampire exploded into dust. The familiar rush of the dead vampire’s energy into her own body made her gasp. He
was
strong and she’d been lucky to get so easy a kill, but there was no time for smugness. She had to use his strength, which was now added to her own.
was
strong and she’d been lucky to get so easy a kill, but there was no time for smugness. She had to use his strength, which was now added to her own.
On the bed, Konrad wrestled with the two remaining assailants. However, as Elizabeth ran to help, István and Mihaela skidded in together and shared the kill, just as Konrad’s last assailant paid the price of his distraction and turned to dust.
Slowly, Elizabeth reached up and switched on the light. Of their attackers no sign remained, except broken glass scattered under the window and a splash of blood on Konrad’s rumpled sheets.
“Bastard bit me,” Konrad muttered, holding his hand over his shoulder as he let himself flop into a sitting position on the bed.
“Let me see,” Mihaela said efficiently. She’d been here before, patching people up after vampire attacks, and she sounded as she always did, cool and capable. And yet her hand shook as she lifted it to Konrad’s wound.
Elizabeth swayed on her feet. To cover it, she strode to the window, trying to ignore the unspecific but very physical pain that started to consume her. The dizziness combined with a powerful, alien dread that made her grasp the window frame hard to dispel it.
Not now! Please, not now . . .
Not now! Please, not now . . .
Perhaps it was just the result of the vampire’s blow. It must be. To her relief, the pain and the awful feeling she had no words for began to recede, at least enough to let her focus once more. There was no sign of anyone else outside, but although that oppressive sense of
wrongness
had dissipated, she was well aware she hadn’t seen the attacking vampires from her own windows either.
wrongness
had dissipated, she was well aware she hadn’t seen the attacking vampires from her own windows either.
“The detector’s still registering,” István said urgently. “We’ve got another one.”
“Where?” Elizabeth demanded, spinning back to face him.
“Outside, I think,” István said, running out of the door.
As Elizabeth crossed the room after him, Mihaela stood up. “Hold that over it,” she advised Konrad, placing his left hand on the cloth she’d held to his wound, and his right on the wooden stake he’d used to such good effect. “It’s healing already, so you’ll be fine,” she added over her shoulder, as she left the room side by side with Elizabeth.
They found István in the hall by the front door. Wordlessly, he showed them the detector, holding the blunt end of the stake over his lips to call for continued silence. From the direction and distance indicator, the vampire waited on the other side of the front door, no doubt ready to grab any fleeing humans. If he were strong enough, he’d already know his comrades were dead, so either he was stupid and relatively weak, or he was powerful enough to be confident of taking at least one of them out by surprise before escaping.
István pointed toward the living room, and Mihaela tugged Elizabeth’s arm. Elizabeth nodded and crept through the living room to the French doors. The key was in the lock. Elizabeth touched it, remembering that it turned smoothly. She just hoped it was smooth enough to prevent the vampire’s superhearing from picking it up.
She glanced back at Mihaela, who stood in the middle of the room, from where she could see both Elizabeth and István. Watching István, Mihaela held up one hand and began a countdown with her fingers. As soon as the last finger closed, Elizabeth spun the key, yanked open the door, and leapt outside, stake drawn.
Although she barely heard her move, Mihaela stood beside her. The night was silent. István should have been through the front door, but there was no sound of fighting or commotion. Elizabeth’s spine felt cold. Exchanging glances with Mihaela, she began to move forward around the outside of the house as Mihaela set off around the other way.
Each step seemed to bring an increase of tension. The vampire had waited this long; Elizabeth couldn’t believe he’d fled now without a kill. Surely he couldn’t have taken István so easily that there had been no noise?
No. The long, lean figure of István stood on the edge of the porch, still and poised. Although there was no sign of the vampire, she could still
feel
him.
feel
him.
Oh, God, Mihaela!
But no, István still had the detector; if it had registered movement, he’d have followed it. Elizabeth’s breath caught.
Up. He’s gone up!
Up. He’s gone up!
Desperately, she scanned the roof of the little porch. Surely there was a blacker patch in the shadows . . . ? István must know. He was waiting for her and Mihaela to approach before he stepped off the porch, just in case the vampire was faster than he was.
In which case, distraction was everything. And she just prayed the others would understand her game.
She began to run, crying, “István!”
And István understood. He leapt off the porch on Mihaela’s side, just as the vampire jumped from the roof on Elizabeth’s. István spun at exactly the same time as the vampire, and Elizabeth had to shake her head to clear it. For one tiny, vital instant, she thought she was seeing double, before she realized it wasn’t her head that was splitting the dark shadow into two vampires. There really were two, one grabbing for István, the other leaping for her like some impossibly fast darkness monster from her childish nightmares.
They’d hidden together to disguise their numbers from the detectors. Forcing her legs to pump faster, rather than skid to a halt and run back the other way, Elizabeth lashed out with her stake, drawing blood from some part of the vampire as he flew at her. He landed on his feet with a hiss and made a grab for her. Elizabeth dodged, but already his other hand snaked out and she had to stab it with the stake. His hiss became a snarl that was curiously like laughter. The vampire thought he could win.
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