Evelyn chewed her bottom lip, sensing that Gustav was being honest in his beliefs… but that did nothing to change her feelings about the situation. “Look,” she began haltingly, “I understand that you think I’m this lost love of yours, and I think it’s kind of charming that you’re still carrying such an obvious torch for her… but there’s no chance of anything happening between us. I’m married. I have two children. And you… you’re a Nazi. Not to mention a vampire.”
Gustav’s face twisted, revealing his true form. Evelyn gasped and pulled away even further. “This is what I am. This is what you once loved. And you can love me again, but the only way I can think of for you remember our bond is for you to drink of me.”
Before Evelyn’s horrified gaze, the vampire Nazi pulled up one of his sleeves and slashed at the exposed skin with one of the nails from his other hand. Red blood oozed from the wound and Gustav held it out to Evelyn. “Drink,” he commanded, trying to lock eyes with her once more.
This time, Evelyn would have none of it. She shoved out with a foot, catching her captor in the hip. The blow did no damage but it did dislodge him from the bed, causing him to momentarily lose his balance.
In that split second, Evelyn was off the bed and on the run. She reached the door but found it locked. As she fumbled with the handle, Gustav’s hand appeared in front of her, resting on the door.
“You still have the same old fire, Justine. I like that.”
“Then see how much you like this,” Evelyn roared. She slammed her entire body backwards, the back of her head colliding with Gustav’s face. Again, her strength paled next to his and thus she was unable to harm him, but the vampire still lost his grip on the door and this time Evelyn managed to open it and step out into the hallway.
Unfortunately for her, she came face-to-face with a guard who had been positioned there. The man smiled at her, revealing his fangs, and in that moment Gustav picked her up, wrapping his strong arms around her and lifting her off the ground. He pressed his bleeding arm against her mouth and though she fought to keep her mouth clamped closed, the blood nevertheless seeped past her lips and onto her tongue.
The blood made her head spin, as if she was suddenly drunk, and images began to cascade through her mind.
* * *
Justine had been a lovely but ill-tempered girl. In the seventeenth century, women were supposed to be seen and not heard in many cases, but Justine had never managed to grasp that particular skill. Instead, she told anyone who would listen what her opinions were, to the effect that when she was in her mid-twenties she was already considered an old maid. No man would have her, despite her beauty.
Until the secretive Baron Gustav had moved near her village, erecting a stone fortress from which he surveyed his new dominion. Justine had heard all the rumors—that he ventured forth only at night, that he sometimes invited women back to his home, only for them to never be seen again—but when she first spied him creeping through the moonlight streets, she fell instantly in love with him. The way he moved, the light in his eyes… it was all so intoxicating! Here was a man who could quench her passions, who would be strong enough to have a powerful woman at his side… she was sure of it.
And so she had followed him, though her attempts at stealth had been laughable to the powerful vampire. He’d finally confronted her in an alleyway and was pleased to find that not only did she not back down from him, but she found him attractive. They had made love that very evening, exploring each other’s bodies without inhibition. In the weeks that followed, Justine had come to regard the daytime as her enemy, for it was only at night that she felt whole. But of course the people in the town had eventually come to fear the baron and had risen up against him. Justine had died trying to protect him, his name on her bloodied lips as she lay dying.
All those memories came pouring into Evelyn’s mind, leaving with the life memories of two people…
* * *
Gustav watched her face as she opened her eyes, blinking in confusion. He had carried her back to bed, silently praying that he was right—that his blood would somehow awaken Justine within her.
“How do you feel?” he asked, gently holding her hands in his.
She stared at him with an odd expression for what seemed like a very long time… and then she spoke with an accent that was not Evelyn’s. “My beloved… I remember it all.”
Their mouths crashed together in a ravenous kiss.
CHAPTER XI
Falling to Earth
Silently, the Peregrine’s plane came into a steady trajectory above the zeppelin. Max had designed his plane for stealth, though the means by which this accomplished used up a tremendous amount of fuel, meaning that he ran in “silent” mode only when needed.
The front windows of the cockpit were heavily taped up, but wind still whistled past the tape, blowing Max’s hair wildly about. He glanced over at the Warlike Manchu, who stood nearby. “I’m going in. I need you to stay here and fly the plane… the autopilot isn’t sensitive enough to handle this.”
The Manchu narrowed his eyes. “I am impressed that you were able to catch up to them, but it is pure folly to go in there by yourself. Not only would you have to contend with Gustav, but he has his full squad of VSS soldiers, as well.”
“Yes, but I need you up here. We can’t have nobody flying the plane, can we? Especially not if I end up needing an aerial rescue.”
“I do not approve of this plan.”
The Peregrine vacated the pilot’s seat, indicating that the Manchu should take it. The Asian man did so, but not without hesitation. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t asking for permission,” Max said.
* * *
The Peregrine stared down at the zeppelin below, the wind ripping against him. He was standing in the doorway of the plane, holding on with fingers that were turning white from pressure. They had managed to reattach the door before leaving Bordia but now it clanged noisily against the side of the plane.
Max checked his parachute and found that it was attached properly. He didn’t plan to need it but if he overshot his mark or something went wrong, it would be nice to have it with him.
Taking a deep breath, the Peregrine jumped from the plane, spreading out his arms and legs. He fell remarkably fast, landing hard atop the zeppelin where he immediately began to fall, slipping across the smooth surface. Max allowed himself to slide, slowing himself down by dragging his fingertips across the zeppelin’s cloth top.
As he began to drop over the edge, Max drew out the Knife of Elohim and dug it into the zeppelin’s surface. When the blade caught on part of the interior structure, he came to an abrupt stop. Panting from the exertion, Max began the slow process of widening the rip enough for him to enter the vessel but not tearing it open so wide that it would impair the zeppelin’s flight.
* * *
Ten minutes later, the Peregrine had managed to make his way to the passenger level. He had not encountered any resistance to this point, though he had been forced to sneak past two of the VSS. Dawn was almost here, though, and the ship was now as quiet as a tomb, with the soldiers preparing for their daily slumber. He’d timed things so that he would hopefully avoid the full force of the VSS.
The Peregrine was taking a chance being here—he had no idea where Evelyn was being held on board, and no matter how skilled the Warlike Manchu might be as a pilot, there would come a time when they would no longer be able to keep pace with the zeppelin. That would mean that Max would be trapped onboard.
As luck would have it, however, the Peregrine heard Evelyn’s voice as he moved stealthily down the hallway. There was an odd quality to it, however… she seemed to have picked up an accent that wasn’t there normally.
Following the trail of her voice, Max found himself just down the hall from an open doorway. A vampire guard stood outside, obviously listening but pretending not to. The words were quite clear now:
“Once in Berlin, I’ll arrange a meeting with the Fuehrer,” Gustav was saying. “He won’t refuse me, not even now. And once I’ve confronted him, I’ll kill with the Rod of Aaron and take control of the Reich.”
“Will it be that easy? Would people really follow you?” Max found something else curious—not only did Evelyn sound different, but she sounded
interested
. Not at all like someone being held against their will.
“I’ve considered keeping Hitler alive, as a pawn, just for that reason, but his desire for power would eventually prove a problem. Perhaps I could reach out to someone else in his inner circle, have them serve as the public face of the Reich while I ruled from the shadows.”
The Peregrine took this moment to strike. He drew the Knife of Elohim and sprinted towards the vampire guard. The man turned towards him just as Max tackled him, placing a gloved hand over the man’s mouth. He then drove the Knife straight into the fellow’s heart, the magical qualities of the blade causing the vampire to immediately begin crumbling to dust. In seconds, it was over, with barely a sound having been made.
The Peregrine then stood up, brushing off the sandy remains of the vampire that clung to the front of his clothing. He’d discarded his parachute earlier, allowing him better ease of movement. He unholstered one of his pistols and held it in his free hand.
Inside the room, the conversation had ceased, though quieter sounds reached Max’s ears. With the blood pounding in his veins, he stepped into the doorway, weapons in hand. What he saw hit him like a ton of bricks.
Evelyn was in Gustav’s arms, holding him tight as their mouths met. She opened her eyes to see Max staring at her and pulled away, swearing.
Gustav followed her gaze and blinked in surprise. In that moment Max lost all attempts at stealth. He discharged his pistol, unloading nearly a dozen shots from his specially modified gun. The bullets, all soaked in holy water, slammed into Gustav, knocking him backwards and causing him to trip over a chair, striking the ground.
Evelyn screamed and backed away from Max.
“Evelyn! Come with me!” Max held out a hand to her. He was confused about what he’d seen, but that could be explained later. His gunshots were bound to bring reinforcements and he wanted to be on his way before that.
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I recognize you, Max, but I’m not Evelyn anymore. I’m Justine now. I’m in control. And I won’t leave the baron again. Not ever!”
The Peregrine could barely believe what he was hearing. “Evelyn… he’s done something to you. But come with me and I’ll make it all better. I promise.”
Max heard the sounds of booted feet in the hallway outside. They were coming. And, perhaps even worse, Gustav was rising back to his feet. The bullets were in his right hand and the Rod of Aaron in the left.
“A nice attempt,” the baron conceded. “If I hadn’t been carrying the Rod on my belt, I think you might have actually wounded me too badly for me to fight back. A pity for you that you’re now outclassed.” Gustav waved a hand to dismiss the men who were now standing behind the Peregrine. They backed away but remained close enough to aid their leader should he need it. “I see that you’ve met my Justine,” he continued.
“Whatever you’ve done to her won’t stick. She’s my wife and the mother of my children.”
The baron held the Rod of Aaron before him. “Not anymore, she’s not.” White light surrounded the Rod and Max braced himself, not knowing how he was going to get out of this one alive. “Mr. Peregrine,” the Baron said with a laugh, “how about you go for a little flight?”
A wave of energy suddenly struck the Peregrine, blinding him momentarily. He felt like he was being lifted off the ground and thrown backwards, but there was no impact from the inevitable collision with the zeppelin’s walls. Instead, he felt himself continue backwards, far past the point at which he should have stopped. Wind rushed back his ears, roaring like an oncoming freight train. As his vision cleared, Max realized that he was hurtling through the air, having been tossed free of the zeppelin. As he began to fall, he automatically reached for his parachute cord, but found nothing. He cursed himself for having left it behind on the zeppelin, and as he flipped in the air, he stared downward at the rapidly approaching earth.
The Peregrine tried to let his body go as limp as possible, though from this height death was assured. He had to hope for a miracle of some sort, something that would allow him to live another day so that he could rescue Evelyn.
And then he heard it—the roar of a familiar plane. He glanced to his right and saw his own aircraft flying beside him, arcing so that it would quickly be beneath him. Max slammed onto the upper portion of one of the wings. He cried out in pain as something that felt like electricity ran up along his arm and into his shoulder, but he retained his consciousness and managed to slowly begin pulling himself towards the door of the aircraft.
The Warlike Manchu flung the door open, standing there with an arm extended. When the Peregrine was within reach, the Manchu grabbed hold of him and pulled him inside.
Max lay on the floor of the plane, gasping for breath while the Manchu closed the hatch. The plane’s autopilot kept them on a steady course but they had lost all sight of the zeppelin.