The Vampire's Heart (17 page)

As my only surviving brother talks to the few that have gathered for my dead brother’s funeral, I whisper to ears that cannot hear, and a soul that will wait.

“
There will be no blinding light for us, nor a tunnel lit so brightly that it is all we can see. There will be just you and I, our hands clasped tight. You’ll lead me to wherever we need to go. I’ll never look back. I’ve lost you and that scares me, but we’ll be together again soon. You and I saw so much during the years that we grew. The time for you to rest is now; and it is nothing to fear, Thack. There was nobody beside you when your soul departed for the Summerland, but I will follow you into the darkness. I will find my way to the Summerland, and to you. Soon brother.”

A tear pricks at my eye and depression flows over me, hitting me in an instant. I will never see my little brother again. Never get to see him smile, hear him and Meth argue, or tell him that I love him. My brother is gone, and a part of me left with him.

I look down into the pit, in which his broken body now lays covered in a white sheet. There is no coffin available for the brave man that I couldn’t save. It is an unfitting burial for someone who should not be dead at all. I will follow him into the dark. And I will not follow Calcia anymore.

- Muzbeth -

68 days until the birth of a god

The 3
^rd
day of Spring-Rise, 1538

I’ve been here for two days now, still waiting to meet whoever it is I’m supposed to meet. ‘Forthcoming’, Kellum had said she would be.

It is incredibly boring here in Midiar, I’m keeping my presence in the city low key so that I don’t get driven out. Not that I think they could, but I’ve got to keep people here if I am to meet my new accomplice. Hopefully that day will come soon.

- Satch -

61 days until the birth of a god

The 10
^th
day of Spring-Rise, 1538

“
What the fuck was that all about Meth? ‘An angel got his wings’? You know he’s a Pagan!” I shout. Meth looks at me, his eyes weary. Behind his dark pupils I can see the fire of righteousness rising.

“
WHAT!” I scream, as the pent up anger finally breaks out in a torrent of conflicting emotions.

“
Satch! He was a Pagan. He’s dead!” Meth hisses back at me, severely.

“
I know, Meth, I know. But why did you have to say those things? I am loathe to believe most of it,” I spit back, my heart driving my words.

“
Thack and I may have argued a lot, we may have even hated each other from time to time, but I never stopped loving him. He is my brother too. Just because we believed in different things didn’t stop us being brothers!” Meth shouts back.

I hate to admit it, but he has a point. The fire and rage in my belly dies down as I see the distress showing upon his face.

“
I’m sorry. I just assumed that you were still getting at him,” I confess.

“
It doesn’t matter; all we can do now is stick together. We’ve got to help each other get through this, and when we find that fucking vampire, Calcia help it, even the deepest pit of Abadon will not match what we will put him through.”

This argument was long in coming. Seven days passed before I even spoke to Meth properly. Now we continue walking in silence. We’re heading north.

Even though we only worked together briefly as a trio, I feel like Thack’s always been here.

“
I miss him you know. It’s only been ten nights and already I miss him terribly. Meth, will it get easier?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

“
I’m afraid not. Not yet anyway. It was different with mum, we couldn’t do anything then. This time we can, and I don’t think it will get any easier until we can avenge him. Calcia will make us her avenging angels.”

Oh no, she won’t. She abandoned me. I have no idea how I’m going to tell him that, but I can’t cast with him anymore, not until he finds out. I’ll tell him I’ve reverted to Paganism again soon. Thack, make me tell him soon.

“
Thack’s killer will get what is coming to him,” I say, looking ahead to the horizon. “We’ll find him soon Meth, and then he’ll regret ever rising from the grave.”

The Tenth Chapter

- Muzbeth -

32 days until the birth of a god

The 1
^st
day of Spring-Fall, 1538

As long as I’ve been here I’ve been living in Hell. I can smell all of the little people in this disgusting city. Oh how I wish I could just burst out into the street and massacre them all.

I’ve hardly eaten, only one vagrant every two nights; people that nobody will miss. I’ve been cooped up in a small room too, as I’m only able to pay with what I find on the bodies I feed from. That is why I’m in a tiny room which stinks of piss and stale ale. In normal circumstances I would just kill and take, as is the way of the vampire, but this fucking stupid sense of duty I feel for Kellum is keeping me from doing just that. What the hell am I thinking? I am a Lys-Karalis, I cannot be stopped. I will not be stopped by anyone, let alone the words of a frightened vampire.

I get up and prowl the room, pacing back and forth, trying to decide whether I should fulfil my desires or not. What if they can defeat me? Kellum wouldn’t have warned me if they couldn’t, would he?

Fuck it. I snatch up my coat and slip it on, doing up the first few buttons as I head to the door. I pull it open and stride out into the corridor, allowing it to slam shut behind me. I head to the end of the corridor and take the wide steps down to the bar level two at a time; a new vigour in my step. My senses fill with the promise of death and destruction, filling my mind with joy. The barman catches my eye and nods at me, a human gesture. I spit at him in return, the saliva hitting the table next to the poorly kept bar, he shouts some faint curse which I ignore as I walk to the door. My attention need not be pricked by the likes of him. He will die later, when I return. I kick the front door open hard enough to make the wood splinter and the hinges buckle; the door half falls off. The barkeep shouts more rowdily at this and the rest of the mostly empty bar quietens.

I step out into the cobbled street as the setting sun begins its final descent behind a large domed building. I look about; all eyes are staring at me and my grand appearance. I let out a bestial roar, my voice cracking under the pressure and returning to its disturbing sound.

I had healed myself so as to pass for human, but I need not keep up pretences anymore. Further up the street I hear the sound of breaking glass and turn my head quickly enough to see a figure plummet from a second floor window, land feet first and then topple sideways. Heads poke out of the window temporarily and retract instants later. I am intrigued, but there is now a sizeable group of people between myself and the person who had fallen.

Growing my nails and hardening them I latch onto the stone lower wall of the tavern, climbing up the side of the building a good six feet to reach its wooden upper floor. The people that have seen me are screaming and running now, but there are still many who have not seen or realised what I am and what is happening. Foolishly they now come for a closer look.

I tense my muscles and launch myself at the area where the person landed. I sail over the crowd and hear the shouts of the people in it; those that have noticed the man flying through the air above them. I land, skidding slightly, and nearly trip on the cobbles, as the momentum is too much for even one such as I to counter.

Straightening up I look at the person who fell. It is a woman, in her early- to mid-twenties. She has curly mousey brown hair, and most noticeable of all, she is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I feel the magic course through my veins and I get ‘half-stocked’, magic dragging the blood with it, at the mere sight of her. She looks up at me and smiles, in both a sensual and a warm way. I want her now.

Two men rush into the street from the building to my side. The building she jumped from.

“
Are you okay?” I ask of her. She does not answer, but brushes herself off and stands up, favouring one leg over the other. Evidently the fall injured her. She gives me that smile again and turns to the two men. I follow her gaze; the men are big and burly, dressed in cheap clothes I would expect to find manual labour workers wearing. They are blatantly poor. They are unshaven and the uglier of the two, a man with a hooknose and beady dark eyes, has a red hand-shaped mark on his cheek.

“
Your abilities as a lover are somewhat lacking,” she says brazenly, “and as for your… companion, shall we say? He is hardly noticeable at all in that area.” She turns to me and mouths the words ‘very small’, before turning back to the two men. “I have to wonder about the somewhat dubious relationship the two of you share. I’m sure even a sodomite would turn his head know of the things the two of you do together. And in future, do not ask your other friends around if they are only willing to take and not pay.” She turns to look at me once again, and simply says “I am not okay.”

She spoke with passion and pace, moving me to anger beyond my usual level. I retract my nails. These two will pay for sullying this girl, and they will pay in pain. I will beat them to death with my bare hands.

“
Then I am not okay either. These… I shan’t say gentlemen… these… whatever they are, will die. Okay?” I say, not requiring an answer.

“
Fine by me, vampire” she says. I take a step forwards, while the men, unsure, take a step backward.

I realise what she’d said and whip my head around to look at her so quickly. She said ‘vampire’. How can she know that I’m a vampire? I’ve been keeping a suitably low profile… until now. I’ve been an idiot. It looks like I won’t be staying here much longer. I beckon the men to me, putting up my fists as an invite to trading blows. They come forward, their hands mirroring mine.

There is caution on their faces and in their movements. They split to flank, one to either side of me. The least ugly man throws the first heavy punch, one that I dodge all too easily, which sends him off balance. Ignoring him for the moment I turn to the hook-nosed man; he swings with his left fist, so I take a step back, he follows forward and swings on the backhand with his left again and follows up quickly with the right hook; all of his power in the punch. Ducking under his left backhand I step into the quick followed right hook, breaking his defence and rendering the punch useless. Up close and personal I touch my forehead to his nose at great speed. A crack and a spray of hot blood covers my eyes. The man drops like a stone, both hands clutching at his further ruined face.

I round on the once unbalanced man, who has now retreated a few paces, fists still up. I close the distance in an instant, looking into his face, eye to eye, I see his pupils narrow as he focuses on me. I jab forward with my clenched fists, both sets of knuckles finding their way through the man’s pathetic defence to smash into his chest. My dual blows lift him up clear off his feet to land a good ten feet away, tossed like a rag doll. The man slowly gets to his feet, clutching his ribs, wincing with pain at every movement. He looks ready to bolt.

I wipe the blood from my eyes and hold up my hands, a gesture to say I brook no harm. The man sees through my lie and turns, attempting to put as much distance between him and me as he can. But he can’t run with his ribs broken, so he slowly hobbles away. It’s just too little too late for him. He should have run the instant he’d seen me. I leap after him, bringing him to the ground when I land on him, his cry of pain cut short as I rip out his throat.

Then the panic comes. The viewers must have been mesmerised by the swiftness of the fight, but now their senses return and the remaining people who had not seen my earlier exertions are running for their lives too. The people scream and a mad rush to get away from the marauding vampire before them encompasses all. Some people get trampled to death. I know because I feel it happen.

The resounding fear emanating from the crowd is feeding me more than any amount of blood ever could. But I still take his; it tastes nice, like a good vintage wine. I stand and see the pitiful excuse of a man that I head-butted trying to crawl away, the people running around him are hindering his progress. Their footfalls break his fingers and cause him more pain with every moment. I ignore him and turn to the beautiful woman I just saved. I get the feeling she owes me something now. And I’m going to take it.

I stride up to her, grab her by the hair and kiss her violently. The blood on my lips and in my mouth is licked off by her tongue. She’s reciprocating. She wants this too. I grab her around the waist, pulling her in close, feeling her breasts press against my chest. I slide my hand up her back, lifting her with my other arm under her knees.

I walk, carrying the beautiful girl, out of the city of Midiar. The mayhem in my wake is truly heart lifting.

- Holste -

Sneaking through the catacombs at night is incredibly risky, more so for doing it alone without any light source. I’m relying on my memories to guide me in the right direction through all of the twisting turns and narrow passageways that connect all of the main stations. I think I know where I am. I hope I know where I am. I’ve managed to get this far without being seen. I’m not far, theoretically, from my destination; Legion’s station. I need to find out who he really is, there’s just something wrong about him, his reflection and footfalls. It just doesn’t fit together.