Afterglow (Brotherhood of the Blade Trilogy #2) (8 page)

I still resisted using Rudolph’s identification.

I gotta be me.

I stubbornly carried my American passport, which had been retrieved for me from California by a hired international courier service with my notarized power of attorney. The agency was paid to be discreet and get past the bank officer for getting it out of my safe-deposit box. It was hand-carried to me and delivered at a pre-appointed restaurant meeting in Zürich. My American driver’s license had not yet expired and had never been off my person.

I still worried about my safety from the authorities, even though nothing had ever appeared in the media about my burned-down, blown-up house that had slid off the cliff and into the sea during heavy rains of many days.

As far as I knew, no authorities had ever dug up my wife’s body from the family cemetery. And, as far as I knew, my daughter was still out there somewhere. It was heartbreaking to be separated from her. She must be traumatized without her parents. And in the company of vampires.

I continued to pay taxes on the family property in California by paying online, but not, of course, updating my mailing address. It helped that the property was part of a family trust, rather than recorded in my name specifically.

There was still plenty of attention in the media about Gabrielle Dubois’s disappearance, though. According to the media, “Rudolph Sebastian” had been one of the “last people to see her alive.” It was messed up that the police knew that Rudolph Sebastian had been murdered years before and that the supposed last person to see her alive was a dead man. As far as I knew, I wasn’t a suspect in her disappearance, nor had I even learned if I was wanted for questioning, but I just decided to keep my life on the down low as much as possible. No use tempting fate.

After a lot of driving and a lot of thinking, I finally made it through all of the snow to Zürich Hauptbahnhof.

I parked my Jeep in a long-term lot. At least, I hoped I parked in the correct car park, as they called it. Without struggling with any of the official languages—because my ticket agent spoke better English than me—I bought my train ticket for the long haul to Transylvania. There were going to be a few transfers to other trains and from what I understood, the trip would take more than thirty hours. It was a complicated journey and I hoped that I would not get lost.

I didn’t know how long the mission would take, so I only bought a one-way ticket. I just hoped it wasn’t bad luck to do that.

I kept looking over my shoulder to see if anyone from Blackstone Castle had followed me. Apparently, I had really given them the slip.

I didn’t see Ambra or any of the other vampire hunters, which meant this was going to be my first solo vampire hunt since I had joined the Brotherhood of the Blade. And that also meant this was an unsanctioned hunt, against one of the few rules of our organization without prior planning.

But I wanted to see if my daughter was kept a prisoner at Raven Citadel. If she was, whether she was vampire or human, I would bring her home to the castle. I didn’t know what we would do after that, or where we would go. It depended on if she was still human. If she was a vampire, and deemed dangerous, we might put her in the bunker downstairs and I would camp out with her while we figured out how she could have a normal-ish life, like Samantha Moon.

I just knew that after all of these months, my heart was so torn apart that the intel on the location of Vlad’s lair spurred me to action, so much so that there was no way I could have slept after what had happened to Gabby.

Somehow, I had gotten a seat assignment on the train near a harried woman traveling with several children, and she was nearly weepy with the stress. The baby was screaming with what appeared to be an earache, and wouldn’t nurse. The wee thing also had a very stinky diaper. I tried to breathe through my mouth. It had been years since I had even been around a baby. Not since my own Kristen was tiny…

The women in Europe were not shy about such things and it was a different world when this pretty, plump stranger on a train asked me in heavily accented English if I would watch the other children while she cleaned up the baby in the lavatory. I nodded and she put her breast back in her blouse and got up with the shrieking baby. With her gone to the lav, I suddenly had two other kids on my lap, wanting to play. I had to shift around some things so none of my weapons were too obvious. Or painful.

Somehow, the mother, a sausage maker whose name I soon learned was Uta, was also going to Transylvania. We ended up transferring together on several trains. By the time we were about to hit the Hungary-Romania border, the kids were calling me “Uncle” and no one had once asked me for my passport nor given me so much as a strange look. I found that bizarre, but a relief. Apparently, only spot checks of passports were the norm on the train, even at the borders.

Here I was, this tall, lean guy with spiky hair—I still dyed it black and let it grow long since becoming a vampire hunter for the Brotherhood of the Blade—and two dark-haired children vying for my attention while their mother apologized over and over for their enthusiasm for my attention. I told her not to worry and for the many hours of travel, I had a real family again. Not a vampire hunter family, but a woman and three kids.

I even took my turns rocking the baby and was probably the only vampire hunter ever to go into the vampire-hunting night with spit-up stains down his back. I wasn’t complaining. It choked me up how I missed it so. I wanted my daughter back with an ache.

When Uta’s children tired of their travel toys, and of cheese, bread, and juices, which they generously shared with me—I bought their dinner later and all of their meals after that, when I saw very little money in her wallet—their exhausted mother slept with the baby suckling under her unbuttoned blouse while I read a fairy tale storybook to the older two, twins Erika and Anton. Well, I didn’t exactly read it to them. I made up the words to match the pictures, as the text was in a language and alphabet that I did not read nor understand. But the illustrations were familiar to me. It was funny how fairy tales cross cultures like that.

When the three children were asleep, and the lights were low in our coach car, Uta passed me a blanket and turned out all but one reading light where our seats faced each other. She said to me, “I think I know why you are going to Transylvania.”

“
I doubt that, Uta,” I replied, just as softly.

“
You are not the first to go after him, Uncle,” she said, using the children’s pet name for me.

“
Go after who?”

“
Vladimir Tepes.”

I was stunned. “How did you know?”

“I live in Bran, and I make sausage there in my butcher shop. I see many things and I try not to look at the unhappy things. Many come to Bran and the surrounding countryside, seeking Vlad the Impaler, but they do not come back to my butcher shop. They arrive, but they do not depart.”

“
Hmm,” I said. “That’s not good.”

Our eyes met over the low light and she said, “Do you go to the tourist castle or do you go to the ruins?”

“The ruins. Raven Citadel, in the back country.”

“
Do not go there,” she whispered. “You will not return.”

“
I have to go there,” I whispered back as I looked out the train window at the dark silhouettes of the passing countryside at night.

“
Why must you go there?”

“
I want to see if my daughter is there.”

“
You have a daughter?” Uta asked.

I took out my wallet and flipped to a photo of Kristen.

“She is beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“
Thank you. Have you seen my Kristen?”

“
No. Did he take her there?”

“
Someone took her. I don’t know who took her or where she is. I’m going to look for her at Raven Citadel.”

“
I believe the vampire numbers are many. It is a dangerous colony, Uncle. You cannot go alone or you will not return.” Her voice trembled.

I took a deep breath. “I should be able to handle them. Their leader, Vlad, was killed last night, just outside of Zürich.”

She gasped. “How?”

“
I can’t tell you.”

“
No, he is
not
dead. He cannot be killed. He has killed a hundred thousand people.”

“
What? I don’t think so. Not that many.”

“
Yes, he
has
. He is invincible.”

“
Uta, he’s gone. We killed him.”

“
I do not believe you, Uncle.”

“
I heard his dying cries.”

“
But did you
see
him die?”

“
Um, no. What do you mean, did I
see
him die?”

“
Did you verify that the exact vampire you killed was Vlad?”

“
Well, there is no proof left of him, and he doesn’t show up on camera or in a mirror but—”

“
He is very clever. Vlad seldom goes into a battle first. First, he sends in his dark servants to make way for his evil path.”

“
Shit!” I considered this. “You mean maybe we didn’t kill the right vampire last night?”

Uta frowned. “You must not go to Raven Citadel. It is a trap. Once you are in the belly of the ruins, in the dank corridors and in the dungeons, you will not be able to get away. And you will become either his food or you will be killed.”

I ran my fingers through my dyed, dark long hair. “I need to make a phone call.”

“
That phone call better be for your train reservation back to Zürich and then a plane ticket back to America.”

“
No, I just need help. I’ll get him. I have been on trains for almost three days. I’m almost there and I’m going to see if Kristen is there. Even if I have to tear apart the vampire king and every stone of his castle with my bare hands.”

“
Give me your hand, Uncle.”

“
My hand?”

“
Yes. Your dominant hand.”

I hesitantly held out my hand and I didn’t expect her to do what she did.

“I want to read your palm.” She examined it closely.

“
I thought you were a sausage maker.”

“
That is how I support my family. This is what I do for a passion. What is your profession?”

“
It’s better if you don’t know.”

She ran her finger over my palm. “Oh,” she crooned and a tear splashed on my hand from her eye. “I’m very sorry about your wife.”

“Thank you.” I was blown away that she knew.

“
I see how stubborn you are, Uncle, and how sad. But then, there is a new light, a new love for you.”

“
Yes. She doesn’t really know it, though.”

“
Oh, she knows. She is coming for you.”

“
To Transylvania?”

“
Yes.”

“
No, it’s too dangerous. I don’t want her anywhere near here.”

“
Nevertheless, she will be here. It is already in motion.”

“
Damn it.” I pulled my hand from hers. “Uta, don’t try to stop me from doing this.”

“
I cannot. Destiny already shows what you will do, like it has history that is already written. When you go to the ruins, after the big battle, if you still live, I want you to do something for me.”

“
If I can. What is it?”

She drew a photo album out of her handbag and took out one of the photos. “Take this photo with you of my missing husband and if you find him at Raven Citadel, bring him home to me.” As an afterthought, she wrote their names and address on the back. And a phone number.

I memorized the face and the contact information and shoved the photo in my wallet.

“
Doesn’t your husband, Lucian, know his own street address?”

“
If he is himself and alive. Human.”

“
What do you want me to do if he’s a vampire, Uta?” I asked. “What then?”

“
I don’t know, Uncle,” she said in a small voice.

I sighed as I looked at the sweet children who all looked like him. My heart was breaking for the family.

“Call me Rand.”

“
Rand?”

“
My nickname.” I paused. “How did I come to be next to you on the train?”

“
Only God knows,” she replied. “Only God knows.”

She crossed herself in the Eastern Orthodox way, from right to left, in the same way that my vampire hunter friend,
Mikhail Markov, did.

Not even knowing if my phone would send it across several countries, I sent Ambra a text: