Brothers to the Death (The Saga of Larten Crepsley) (6 page)

BOOK: Brothers to the Death (The Saga of Larten Crepsley)
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“And if luck isn’t with us?” Gavner asked, but Larten ignored the question.

Wester and Larten clasped hands briefly, then Wester left without any words of farewell—there was nothing he could say to put Larten at his ease. The guard ran down the mountain and disappeared when he hit flitting speed. Larten wasn’t watching when Wester vanished. He had already curled up into a ball and shut his eyes. If he felt guilty or scared, he kept his emotions hidden from the distraught Gavner Purl. A General of good standing was never supposed to betray what he felt inside.

Chapter
Seven

The pair of vampires crossed Europe quickly, pushing the pace as much as they dared. Although Larten never gave Gavner any hint that he was thinking such things, he longed to give the Nazis the slip. He wanted to flit, ignore his promise to Mika, make sure Alicia and Sylva were safe. He thought about stealing away and leaving Gavner to deal with the Nazis by himself. He could be back in two or three nights and the Germans might never even be aware of his absence.

But if his plan backfired and they captured Gavner…

Larten trusted his assistant, but Gavner was young and inexperienced. The General had to stay with
him, not only because of his duty to the clan, but because of Alicia’s love for her adopted son. She would curse him if he abandoned his charge and the once lonely, orphaned boy came to harm. Alicia would rather lose her own life than risk Gavner’s.

Larten knew that he was doing the right thing. The
only
thing. But he played with alternative options every night while they jogged across the countryside, and every day as he struggled to get even a couple of hours of sleep. This was the only route open to them, yet he tried to find a way around it, a loophole that he could exploit. But there wasn’t one.

They sent three telegrams to Alicia, from different towns, but they didn’t dare wait for a reply, so they were not sure if she had received them. Larten didn’t know much about telegrams and he mistrusted the modern technology, but Gavner assured him that they were reliable. If Alicia was safe, their messages would be delivered to her.

If…

Larten worried about leading the Nazis to the woman he loved, but Randel Chayne was a more ominous, pressing threat. Once Alicia and Sylva were clear of imminent danger, they could move to another country, out of reach of the Germans. Alicia wouldn’t
like moving, but Larten would convince her. She knew he wouldn’t ask it of her if it wasn’t essential.

Gavner didn’t say much while they traveled. He still thought that Larten had made the wrong call. Alicia had been a mother to him and Sylva was like a sister. He felt that the General should not have put the clan’s well-being before theirs. If anything happened to them, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to forgive the orange-haired vampire.

They hit the outskirts of Paris shortly after eleven o’clock one dark, damp night. Both were dry-mouthed as they wound their way through the streets, drawing closer to the small house where Alicia and Sylva lived. They felt as if they were walking towards an area of great disaster. There was no reason for them to feel so negative, yet neither could shake the sense that they had arrived too late.

“We’ll laugh about this afterwards,” Gavner chuckled unconvincingly. “When they stare at us and ask why we look so frightened, we’ll seem like fools.”

“I hope so,” Larten muttered.

“Even if Randel Chayne found them,” Gavner went on, “he wouldn’t kill them unless you were present. From what you’ve said, he loved to torment
Tanish, to see him cringe. If he was planning to hurt them, he’d wait until you were here.”

Larten considered that. “If you are right, he might be waiting for us. Perhaps he started the rumor that he was looking for me in order to draw me back to Paris.”

Gavner stared at Larten. His hands were trembling, but he kept them behind his back so that Larten couldn’t see. “I’m ready to fight if we have to,” he said.

“I know.” Larten smiled fleetingly. “But if we are attacked, and Randel is by himself, it will be best if you flee with the women, to ensure their safety. Their lives are more important than mine. Leave me to deal with the vampaneze.”

Gavner nodded with relief. He wasn’t relieved to be spared the dirty business of fighting—he was eager to test himself in battle. But he was glad to see that Larten loved Alicia and Sylva as much as he did, to hear him proclaim that their lives mattered more than his own. Gavner had thought that Larten was cold and unloving. Now he saw that the older vampire simply hid his feelings better than the younger vampire could.

They drew closer to the house in the suburbs. The
city was asleep this far out from the center. They passed only a handful of people on the streets, and all were hurrying home to bed. The night was young if you were a vampire, but it was late for humans.

They stopped at the front door and paused for a long, nerve-jangling second. In some ways Gavner didn’t want this moment to end. If the women had been attacked, the darkest discovery of their lives lay ahead of them. Once they entered, there could be no hiding from the truth. Out here they could at least hope.

“Stay alert,” Larten whispered, then fiddled with the lock. The door opened and they slid inside.

It was dark, but not to their eyes. Vampires were creatures of the night and they could see clearly in the hallway. It looked no different than it had several months earlier, that evening after their walk in the park when Gavner had twice been pushed into the pond. Larten felt his heart lift. Surely, if tragedy had befallen this house, there would be signs of struggle, grief, change.

He checked the living room, where Alicia had often read to him on long, wet evenings. Rows of books lined the shelves. Larten couldn’t read the titles, but he knew many of them by heart. He would
give three hundred years of his life to have Alicia read to him from one of the leather-bound tomes again.

Sylva’s room was next. The door was ajar. Larten hesitated before pushing it open.
She might not be here
, he thought.
If she is not in her bed, it does not mean that anything is wrong. She may have gone to stay with a friend. Be calm. Do not react hysterically. Believe.

He pushed the door and it creaked as it swung inwards. He was so certain the bed would be empty that at first he didn’t see Sylva. Then, when Gavner sighed happily, he realized she was beneath the covers, lying with her back to them. Her shoulders were rising and falling slowly, and he could hear the soft sound of her breathing.

With shaky smiles the vampires withdrew and gently closed the door.

“Did you hear her breath before we went in?” Gavner whispered.

“No,” Larten answered honestly.

“Me neither. My heart was beating so hard.…”

They shared a rueful chuckle, then edged towards Alicia’s room. Larten had already decided to let the women sleep. There was no guarantee that they were safe—Randel Chayne might be waiting on the roof
or in a nearby alley—but Larten didn’t think there would be an attack tonight. He and Gavner would keep watch just in case, but already his fears seemed like a foolish overreaction. It would be bad enough telling Alicia in the morning of the way they had hurried back. She would scold them for letting their imagination run wild. But if they disturbed her sleep she would be truly furious. Alicia could cut with a wicked tongue when she was irritated.

Larten almost didn’t go into her bedroom, but he wanted to see her before he withdrew for the night. He was confident that he had nothing to worry about, but he needed to be certain. He also wanted to make sure that the window was secure.

Alicia’s door creaked even worse than Sylva’s as Larten pushed it. He couldn’t recall the doors creaking so much in the past. He would have to oil them. It wasn’t good to let hinges rust. Alicia normally took care of such details. Then again, she was getting old. Maybe she’d just…

The thought died unfinished as Larten walked into the middle of a horror from his very worst nightmare.

The sheets had been torn from the bed and lay crumpled on the floor. Furniture and a large vase had
been shattered and were spread in fragments around the room. There was no sign of Alicia. But above the bed, scrawled on the wall in what might have been red paint but wasn’t, was a series of crooked letters.

“What does it say?” Larten croaked.

Gavner didn’t answer. His eyes were bulging and his mouth was hanging open.

“What does it say!” Larten barked, shaking his assistant.

Before Gavner could respond, someone spoke softly behind them.

“This is what happens to lovers of vampires.”

Gavner spun around, but Larten turned slowly. While he was turning, he struggled to get himself under control. He didn’t entirely succeed, but he managed to keep the worst of his distress from his expression.

Sylva was staring at the tall vampire with the orange hair, her anguished eyes open wide in the gloom of the room. She was dressed in her day clothes, not a nightdress. Larten guessed that she had been expecting them, that she’d maybe lain in these clothes for many nights, only half-sleeping, waiting for the creak of the door to tell her they were here.

“What happened?” Gavner cried, but Sylva ignored
him. She had eyes only for the man who had always refused to be a father to her.

“He came in the middle of the night,” she whispered. “The darkest hour, when the world was at rest. I wasn’t here. I had been seeing a young gentleman. Nothing improper, I assure you, but we liked to meet when everybody else was asleep. He’s an amateur ornithologist, especially interested in nocturnal creatures.” She smiled crookedly. “I used to think it would be fun to introduce him to
you
.”

Gavner had started to cry. Larten couldn’t.
Wouldn’t
. Not until he’d heard the full story. And not until he was alone. He was determined to keep his emotions in check as long as there were witnesses.

“I was coming down the street when he burst out of the house,” Sylva went on, her forehead creasing as she relived the memories. “Patrice—my young gentleman—had left me at the end of the street. He was the perfect escort and didn’t want anyone to see us together, in case they got the wrong idea. So I was alone. All by myself. Defenseless.

“The killer saw me and stopped. I think he was as shocked as I was—he couldn’t have been expecting anyone at such an ungodly hour. He considered my
fate and ran a calculating eye over me. I knew that I was dead if he chose to strike.

“But he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t know that I was Alicia’s daughter, or maybe one of us was enough for him. Either way he spared me and fled, leaving me to enter the house alone. I could smell the blood. I knew what to expect, or thought that I did. But I hadn’t imagined the variety of ways that you could rip a person apart, or the writing. I never…”

She stopped and read the words again, silently this time.

Gavner reeled aside and retched against a wall. He used a sheet to wipe his chin and cover the mess. He was sobbing uncontrollably. “What did he look like?” he groaned, but both the elder vampire and the young woman ignored the question. They knew this wasn’t the work of a stranger.

“Mama told me you were a vampire when I was ten years old,” Sylva said. “She thought I was old enough to deal with the truth. I was fascinated. I wanted to learn more about you and maybe join your clan. Mama pushed such ideas from my head. She told me how dangerous your world was. She loved you, but she never trusted your kind. She said that you were creatures of battle… of
blood
.”

Sylva pointed to the dark red stains on the wall and said bitterly, “If only she’d known how right she was.”

Sylva fell silent, waiting for Larten to speak. The vampire thought for a long time, searching for words that might ease Sylva’s pain, but in the end he could only shake his head. “What do you want me to say?” he asked.

“I want you to tell me you can bring my mother back from the dead!” Sylva screamed. “I want you to say there’s dark magic you can use to restore her soul. I don’t care if she has to return as a monster like you. I just
want. Her. BACK!

Sylva shrieked the words and struck his chest with her fists—she wasn’t tall enough to reach his face. Larten let her vent her fury on him. Gavner watched, stunned, still weeping.

When Sylva stopped howling and threw herself away, Larten considered going to hold her. But he didn’t think she wanted to be touched, at least not by him, so he nodded harshly at Gavner. The younger vampire gulped, then crouched by Sylva’s side and clutched her arms. Sylva whipped away, but when she realized it was Gavner, she smiled apologetically.

“I don’t blame you for this, my dear,” she sighed.
“But you’re one of them. A vampire like
him
.” She growled at Larten as if she were a dog. “You belong to his world, not mine. You can’t help me, much as I know you’d like to. I must mourn for Mama alone.”

“Is she… has she been buried?” Gavner moaned through his tears.

Sylva nodded. “But don’t ask me where. I’ll tell you one night, when you come by yourself, but I don’t want
him
to know. He doesn’t deserve the chance to pay his last respects.”

“I am sorry,” Larten said quietly. “If I could have done anything to avoid this, I would have. We came as soon as—”

“Don’t!” Gavner cut him short. “You know that isn’t true, so don’t say it.” He started to ask Sylva when Alicia had been murdered, then decided there was no point. What difference did it make?

“I will find and kill the beast who did this,” Larten said, but he took no comfort from the vow, and Sylva didn’t either. Revenge wouldn’t bring Alicia back or make either of them feel any better.

“It would be too easy to tell you that I never want to see you again,” Sylva said, retreating to the window, to open it and breathe fresh air. She addressed the rest of her words to him without looking around.
“If you ever loved my mother, you’ll keep in touch with me. I want you to visit every so often, the way you did when Mama was alive. I want to hate you for the rest of my life and be able to direct my hatred at you in person. If you’re any sort of a man, you’ll grant me that opportunity.”

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