Blood on Silk (11 page)

Elizabeth’s sense of unreality intensified as the evening progressed. She and Mihaela spent time in the bars and cafés frequented by younger people—making sure they were seen—while Konrad and István took it in turns to drift in and out, to hang around the bar, or to sit over a bottle of beer and a newspaper.

Sitting at a pavement table just outside one of these modern, friendly establishments, Elizabeth found it hard to believe that any dark side to the city existed, and if it did, that any darkness would notice her here, let alone report it to Saloman.

And yet he’d found her in the church. He’d spoken inside her head. Though she wasn’t quite sure why, she hadn’t told the vampire hunters that part of the story and didn’t think she would. But she wondered whether that was how he’d tracked her and whether he could be in her head now. The idea appalled and excited her at the same time. However, she could feel no trace of the tiny electrical buzz that she’d imagined in the church, so she doubted it.

Over one glass of wine and a cup of coffee, the twisting knot of tension inside her began to relax a little. The vampire hunters were wrong. Saloman would not be seduced into any trap. On the other hand, her hoped-for research at the vampire hunters’ house had never come to anything, except in a very haphazard, need-to-know sort of a way, and right now she had Mihaela’s brain to pick and a lot of questions that still needed answering.

Twisting the stem of her wineglass in her fingers, she said, “How come he was in the church? Could he be living there?”

“He might have been,” Mihaela allowed. “But he isn’t now. Konrad and István checked.”

“How?” she asked at once.

“We have instruments that detect the presence of vampires.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Are you using them now?”

“Yes, mine’s in my pocket. And Konrad in the car has a more powerful and reliable instrument.”

“Can I see one of them?”

“Not here,” Mihaela said, sounding shocked for the first time in their acquaintance.

“Later, then. When I’ve finished in Romania, I’d very much like to visit your library in Budapest too.”

“You can’t use our material in your thesis,” Mihaela warned.

“Not directly,” Elizabeth agreed. Dragging her mind away from speculation as to exactly how she could use their information, she came back to her original point. “It threw me,” she admitted, “that he could be in a church. All the legends describe vampires’ aversion to holy things and places.”

“For the most part, that’s true.” Mihaela reached for her coffee. “Holy water, crucifixes, anything symbolic like that, will repel most vampires. Because when they died, they believed in those things, subconsciously or otherwise. But Saloman is an Ancient. He’s been around longer than Christianity.”

Elizabeth took a sip of wine and laid down her glass. She didn’t know why it surprised her. After all, it explained some of the stories she’d heard. “So he’s immune to the things that hurt ordinary vampires like Zoltán?”

“Exactly.”

“And Dmitriu?”

“Dmitriu—probably. He was created in the fourteenth century, definitely in the Christian era. But he’s also, probably, the last existing vampire to have been made by Saloman, so we’re not quite sure. Dmitriu is a bit of an enigma, to be honest. He lies low, but he’s always there. And he often has human protectors. A sort of quid pro quo, I expect. They protect one another.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“If you don’t mind being fed off like a slave—and can turn a blind eye to the rest of the evil perpetrated elsewhere.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said at once, chastened. But she’d been right. Maria was in on “the trick” that had sent her to Sighesciu and Saloman. In fact, she was damned sure Dmitriu had somehow planted that thorn that had made her palm bleed so profusely. She moved on. “When we first met, you talked about revenge. Who exactly can Saloman take revenge on after three hundred years? Are the vampires who did it still around?”

“A couple of them still are. Karl and Lajos. Apparently, they didn’t turn up at Zoltán’s meeting. They’ll know Saloman’s after them, and they’ll be keeping well away from Zoltán.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Wouldn’t they want Zoltán’s protection?”

“They’ll know Zoltán’s days are numbered if Saloman’s back. They don’t want to be around Zoltán when Saloman strikes.”

“Only he didn’t, did he? He’s using Zoltán as an ally.”

“Saloman was always notoriously hard to predict,” Mihaela said with a twisted smile.

“So . . . if you don’t kill Saloman tonight, would you just let him kill those vampires for you?”

“Oh no. Vampire biology, for want of a better word, is complicated and based on completely different concepts. The blood of Saloman’s ‘killers’ is especially valuable to him and will add immeasurably to his strength. We need to keep them apart. It’s our best hope for stopping him before he regains all his former power. Fortunately, they’re playing our game so far and are not, we believe, in Transylvania. And as for the third vampire killer, Maximilian, we have no idea where he is. He disappeared off the radar more than fifty years ago. He could have died of boredom—or shame. Some do.”

Fascinated, Elizabeth asked, “Was he an Ancient too?”

“No. But after Saloman died, he emerged from the period of chaos as the vampire leader, which he remained until Zoltán challenged him and won nearly two hundred years ago. Rather than stay under Zoltán’s rule, Maximilian left the region and wandered around Europe. He even turned up in America briefly. We don’t know where he is now.”

“Wow.” Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “This is like a completely alternative history without any humans to add the boring bits.”

Mihaela laughed. “It is fascinating,” she agreed. “But humans
were
involved in Saloman’s history, and he in theirs. In early times, he was often the power behind the throne, or the catalyst for change. But by the seventeenth century, he was more or less regarded as the evil monster he was in reality, if anyone of education believed in him at all. But some more obscure humans, hungry for power, still worked with him. We have records detailing his closest relationships with humans who ultimately turned against him—a nobleman called Ferenc; a priest called Janos. And Tsigana, of course. She was his lover.”

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted. “He had a human lover?”

“Oh yes, several over the years. But Tsigana had some hold over him. One description says she bewitched him. Certainly his behavior became erratic toward the end of his life. It’s said he killed another Ancient over her, and it was his trust in her that led him into the trap at Sighesciu that allowed Maximilian and the other vampires to kill him in alliance with the humans Ferenc and Janos. It’s said they all took it in turns to push the stake farther in, with Tsigana giving the final thrust.”

“They betrayed him.” Was that satisfaction or outrage curling up through her body? It certainly wasn’t pity.

“Oh yes,” Mihaela agreed. “And he’s had three hundred years to brood on it. If he was insane then—as his enemies claimed as the reason for killing him—he’ll be doubly mad now. And he won’t give a damn about carnage, destruction, or secrecy as he takes his revenge. No vampire and no human with a drop of his killers’ blood in their veins will be safe. Nor will anyone who gets in his way. He needs to be stopped.”

Elizabeth nodded. She could see that. Had any of it been reflected in his face on any of their three encounters? Those disturbing eyes held secrets older than Jesus Christ. But they gave none of them away. Did he have feelings? He must have felt something for Tsigana, surely quite a lot, unless it was his pride that got hurt. But those dark, profound eyes hadn’t regarded her with anything more than amusement. He was more than two thousand years old, and she no more than one of a million drinks of blood that would make him stronger. . . .

She blinked, realizing Mihaela had stood up and was speaking. “Sorry?”

“Time to walk,” Mihaela repeated. Elizabeth rose with alacrity. Mihaela’s story had given her new understanding, but also new strength to add to the tension gripping her.

“All right,” she said, this time with enough determination to make Mihaela smile with approval.

Bistriƫa was pretty at night, the darkness hiding any decay, the streetlights adding an ambience that Elizabeth had always liked. But tonight, she saw threat in every shadowed building, every following footstep, every stranger who passed too close. Her nerves coiled as tightly as a drum, she couldn’t help remembering the vampire who’d fallen on her as if from the sky, and she kept casting her gaze upward.

“It’s all right,” Mihaela murmured. “We’ll have warning. My detector’s on now. It will sense any vampire biological characteristics in its vicinity. And the others are close by.”

“What if it’s not Saloman?” Elizabeth whispered. “What if some random vampire just attacks me, like last night?”

“Unlikely. Zoltán and Saloman have both forbidden it. You’re to be Saloman’s.” Mihaela grasped her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Trust me, that will be over my dead body—and Konrad’s and István’s.”

“Oddly enough, that is not the comfort to me you seem to be imagining.”

A breath of laughter came from Mihaela. “I must say, you’re taking to all this madness very well.”

“No, I’m not,” Elizabeth said ruefully.

Mihaela tensed. Close enough to feel it, so did Elizabeth. “It’s now. From the left. My side.”

Oh shit, this is it. He’s come to finish me, and they’ll kill him. . . . Will they?

For an instant, she couldn’t banish the tangle of thoughts chasing one another through her head, until the two shadows flew at Mihaela.

As instructed, Elizabeth leapt backward, shaking her right sleeve and grabbing the stake she’d been hiding there all evening. She had time to register that this was wrong, that they shouldn’t be concentrating on Mihaela, that there shouldn’t be two of them—unless Dmitriu was again helping him—and to raise her stake in panic, ready to spring forward and aid the belabored vampire hunter. But that was all before one shadow dissolved into dust. Mihaela spun, kicking out at the remaining vampire, who fell with a thud on his back. Mihaela jumped on him, stake raised. Her arm plunged, and the second vampire too exploded into dust.

Christ, you’re fast. . . .

Already Mihaela was back on her feet, casting around for possible witnesses. But there was only one fair, careless stranger, perhaps the worse for drink, who wandered by, staring upward at the stars.

Mihaela started back toward her with a quick grin that froze before it started. Her free hand was in her pocket, presumably on the detector. “There’s still something!” she hissed in alarm, just as the passing stranger’s arm flashed out so fast it was a blur, and seized her by the throat, lifting her right off the ground.

And yet the stranger didn’t even glance at her. His gleaming, greedy gaze was fixed on Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth Silk,” he said in a grave, almost gloating voice. “The Awakener . . . Come to Zoltán.”

Oh bloody,
bloody
hell!
She’d seen the terrifying speed with which he moved, but perhaps this prepared her. At any rate, when his free arm snaked out, though she couldn’t quite avoid his reach, she did manage to slash at it with her stake, viciously enough to draw blood.

“Go to hell,” she snarled. The vampire hissed, presumably with pain—which was interesting because she hadn’t known if they felt pain or not—but still dragged her closer by her hair. Elizabeth thrust wildly with her stake, jabbing his ribs, his shoulder. Chiefly, she was conscious of Mihaela hanging by the throat in the vampire’s hand, unable even to cry out.

Zoltán grunted at every blow, but his lips drew back from his teeth to reveal the long, pointed canines that were becoming only too familiar to her. His eyes gleamed in triumph, and she knew she needed more space to get some real strength behind her thrusts. Resorting to more natural tactics, Elizabeth kicked at his shins, then brought her knee up between his legs.

What effect this would have had on its own, she never found out, for István seemed to materialize at Zoltán’s back. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew he held a stake against him, pointing at the region over his heart. The vampire’s body went rigid.

From her left, Konrad said, “Let them go,” and a long, pointed piece of wood slid in beside her body to cover Zoltán’s chest.

Mihaela slumped to the ground, choking. Released, Elizabeth ran to her. “I’m all right,” she whispered. “Watch him. . . .”

Of course, they wouldn’t kill Zoltán. They’d explained that to her. But Zoltán had no such scruples. However, apart from dropping his victims, Zoltán hadn’t moved, and neither had they.

“Hunters,” the vampire growled. He sniffed the air around Konrad, reminding Elizabeth unbearably of Saloman’s behavior on their first encounter. Zoltán laughed.

Konrad drew back. The vampire lifted his arms, and István stepped back too. Zoltán’s muscles flexed, and a warning struggled from Elizabeth’s dry throat.

Zoltán jumped. He seemed to fly upward, and then his shadow disappeared over the rooftops. As Elizabeth brought her stunned gaze back down, she imagined she saw another shadow move from the corner of her eye, but when she jerked her head back up, everything was still.