Hair of the Wolf (10 page)

Clotho flicked the fingers of her right hand and jabbed forward at the Vampire’s wrist. “We tend to carry two needles to knit with, deary.”

Vlad screamed in horrified agony as the second needle pierced his wrist. Fire erupted from the wound, gouting around the impaling knitting needle. She jerked the needle out and jabbed forward again, catching him in the forearm. Jacket and limb aflame, Vlad cradled his useless left arm. “Bitch!” he spat.

Clotho froze in shock, her body stiffening. Vlad hunched back, watching her suspiciously. The crone gasped, weakly slamming her cane once in the ground. “To safety with you,” she gasped. Robert, Lachesis, and the light behind her vanished. The old woman, suddenly showing her eons of age, stumbled forward.

Elizabeth Bathory, sans one eye and with her skull showing through the ravaged right side of her face, rose from behind the stumbling Goddess. Clotho fell forward to the ground.

Bathory swung pair of scissors around her finger, droplets of golden blood flying off the blades used to cut the Threads of Fate. “Well, lover. Looks like we have a new toy.” She kicked the body.

Lightning began to spark from the prone form, mini arcs of electricity that jumped from body to surrounding shrubs and lamp posts. The Vampires looked at each other and simultaneously backed up. They watched the body between them with fascination. The wound in the center of her back, where Bathory had shanked her with the scissors, spat bursts of golden light which intensified into a fusillade of lightning bolts.

The air began to hum. Lightning sparked. And the fiery radiance grew, enveloping Lachesis’s body. In a flash of fire the dead Goddess vanished, leaving only a burnt outline on the cracked sidewalk. The two blinked in surprise.

Injured beyond the abilities of a mortal to survive, the two just stared at each other for a moment. Vlad broke the silence first, laughing. Had Fate still been alive to guide the story of the universe, it would have been an evil laugh of triumph. Instead, it was just the laugh of someone too hurt, too tired, and too surprised that they were still alive. He moved forward, embracing the shocked Elizabeth. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, her shoulders shook as she joined his laughter.

The two stood like that for a while, Elizabeth’s laughter fading to tears with Vlad just holding and comforting her. He leaned back, brushing the hair away from her undamaged eye. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He said. “Let’s go get some food so we can heal. What do you feel like tonight?”

She sniffled a little, wiping at her face with her arm. Her white pant suit was wrecked, between the spatters of human blood, god blood, and dirt. She tried sucking at one of the golden droplets staining her jacket, then spat disgustedly. “That tastes foul.”

Vlad’s brows furrowed in confusion. He had tasted divine blood once before. It had been the singular most empowering and delicious moment of his life.

She sighed. “Let’s just have Chinese.”

***

1999

***

Lilith

“What the hell are you thinking?” Lilith fumed as she stormed into the pizzeria. Time froze around her.

Loki paused, a slice of pepperoni pizza halfway to his mouth. “Um. I don’t know? Maybe if you gave me a frame of reference about what you are talking about. I’m not a mind reader, you know. Well, actually, I suppose I
am
a mind reader, when I want to waste my powers on such a ridiculous effort. It’s pointless to read someone’s mind considering that people so rarely know themselves what they are thinking. I mean—”

“Enough blabbering!” Lilith slammed a hand down on the table, knocking over the cayenne pepper and parmesan dispensers. “Your shaman scion and that damned vampire. How could you endanger our plans by letting them know each other?”

Loki blinked, then took a bite of his pizza, chewing thoroughly. “That was, like, twenty years ago when they met. You’re just now catching on? Wow. Just wow. You are the embodiment of woman, of cunning, of intuition, and of seduction. And you’re telling me it took you, with all those tools, two decades to pick up on that one? Not feeling like yourself, Lilith?”

She leaned on the table, her nails digging into the Formica tabletop. “I trusted you. That’s why I didn’t notice. You were supposed to keep them separate. If you had done that, Tepes and Bathory would have been so obsessed with chasing down Jon and Mina that Bathory’s inevitable push to take out the elder generation of werewolves would have fractured them. We came up with this together, you ass, so that when we went after Kaine they wouldn’t be by his side.”

“Actually, we didn’t.”

Lilith’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Loki finished another bite of the Pizza. “Nothing beats a fresh slice, lemme tell you. Just, mm.”

Lilith slapped the pizza out of his hand. “We didn’t what?”

Loki frowned, watching as the slice of pizza hit the frozen time of the rest of the world and froze in midair. He sighed and looked back at Lilith. “We didn’t come up with it together. You decided it, I fought against it. I tried to show you other ways, but you manipulated me.”

Formica cracked as Lilith listened.

“As a matter of fact,
Lilith,
I’m not the only one that strayed from the plan that you came up with. You think I didn’t spot you as Lilly in that coffee shop? You thought I miss you breaking Mina and Jon apart? Though, I admit, it was a good move. They are both stronger for it. So, what is your real game? Care to share? Are we still even fighting for the same thing?”

Black lightning started to crackle around the edges of Lilith’s eyes.

Loki stood up and walked over to his slice of floating pizza. “Careful. Your tell is showing.” He deliberately left his back exposed as he took a bite.

Lilith took a deep breath and her eyes returned to normal. “I just want us to win, Loki. Your actions better not derail us from our path, or I will end you. Do not forget that almost a third of humanity believes in me, on some level. Can you claim that much power?”

“You know I cannot.” She couldn’t see his smile.

***

Skid

The two blades slid against each other, throwing off sparks as each of the edges tried to cut into the other. The ringing clash echoed through the warehouse. Vast glass windows on the upper portions of the walls flooded the space with sunlight. Other than the two men sparring, it was empty, a vast cavern to house their dance. One was blond, in his late thirties, the other bald, in his teens still.

The younger of the two grinned, twisting his hips and throwing his right shoulder’s strength into the mix. The resistance against his blade vanished as Wells spun low, and Skid’s weight went over his top.

The younger man laughed as he felt himself start to pinwheel, and tucked his body into a tight ball, sliding his long sword across his back for protection. Wells’ katana bounced off with the ringing of metal striking metal.

Skid finished his roll through the air, landing in a crouch and bracing himself with his left hand. Sweat flew from his brow as he twisted his right wrist around, sending his blade out in a long slash behind him. It bought him a second as Wells hopped back to avoid the strike and he rolled forward, regaining his feet, spinning to face his opponent.

Wells leveled his blade. “What is your purpose?”

Skid charged forward. “To … avenge.” He brought up the sword in a quick slash, only to have it deflected.

“Ten years you have answered that question the same way. Why?” Wells slid into Skid’s guard, catching his wrist and locking the young man in place, with their blades forming an X.

“Because it is the truth. It is why Uriel bonded with me.” He dropped the blade, kneeing Wells’ hand. He caught his own dropped blade with a toe flick, sending it sailing up and back. He sprang back to catch it.

As he jumped Wells lunged, slashing his shirt open but missing skin. “Uriel’s cause failed him. To pursue it will bring you the same results. Think outside the box, child. Time and space are the purpose of mortals. They define it, breathe it, live it, and create it. You are meant for something more.”

Skid caught the blade, backpedaling further as Wells followed the first slash with a second. “I don’t understand. A mortal’s purpose is to define time and space? That isn’t a purpose, that’s just what they do. Right? By existing, mortals define time and space. And why should that change my purpose?”

“You are defining yourself by something that can be completed. Your purpose is not something achievable. No one’s is.” Wells grunted as he blocked a strike at his head, weaving under the blades to pop up inside Skid’s guard again.

He looked the young man in the eyes. “What you are saying is your purpose, is actually a goal. Were it your purpose, completion of it would leave you purposeless.” He slapped the flat of the blade, deflecting an incoming strike. “That can never happen. Our purpose is at the heart of our souls. Without it, we would decay. Our minds and hearts would rot within us. Life is just a way to keep meat fresh, without refrigeration, and move it about a bit. Purpose is our soul and being.”

Skid continued slashing with quick precise movements as he pushed Wells back. “You have had,” he grunted while moving, “me reading philosophy for ten years now, honing my mind. I understand your words, but not your meaning.”

He pirouetted while moving forward, slashing in a broad arc at ankle level. “Why would my purpose be different from my goal? If I complete my purpose, I’ll just find another, right?”

Wells raised one foot and slammed it down on the incoming blade, trapping it below his heel and leveling his sword at Skid’s throat. “A goal is achievable. Something to be completed. A purpose never stops. A very mundane example might be that a musician has the goal of creating an album, or singing a song, but their purpose is to compose. To create.”

He backed off, wiping his brow, and flicking his sword to the side, at rest position. The sparring was done. “So Skid, your goal is to seek vengeance, but it is not your purpose. What is your purpose?”

Skid was still crouched in the low sweep. “I …” he thought hard. “I don’t know. I don’t understand how there can be a purpose beyond this. Beyond avenging the Angels? Beyond that is … I don’t know, I can’t see anything.”

“So long as you don’t know it, you will not find your true power. Angels are beings of creation, of purpose. The make history move forward. Yet the Angel in your soul is dormant. It is healing from centuries of corruption and decay. It is you that must rise above and seek enlightenment.” Wells looked around the warehouse they were in, stepping back into a beam of light and closing his eyes while tilting his face upwards. He let the warm rays of the sun soak into his skin. “You’ll find it. I have faith in that.”

***

Vlad Tepes

He stared at the shears, carefully stroking the dull outer edges. It had become a habit over the last decade to study them while he thought. When he touched them, he could feel faint echoes of the future and past. Not enough to clearly see anything, but he did get faint impressions.

Right now he was getting the impression that Elizabeth was getting ready to put in motion something stupid. The shears would have to be given to her when he returned to Kaine. For a time. But not yet. She was still acting out, being childish.

The problem with being immortal Lords of the Night was that when a vampire put a plan into motion the outcome might not become visible for decades, or even centuries. He sighed.

Putting the scissors into their hiding spot, he brushed his hands off and walked out of his house. Standing outside, a short man with wild hair leaned against a black limousine parked in the center of the expansive driveway. Trees and well-groomed lawns framed a driveway that led to an impressive twelve-foot wall surrounding the estate.

The little man scuttled around the limo, opening the back door for his master. “Take me to the Ritz Carlton, Renfield.”

Vlad slid in.

***

Elizabeth Bathory

Sponging the blood slowly over her skin, Elizabeth relaxed in the oversized bathtub. The bodies of sixteen virgin girls were littered around her suite’s bathroom at the elegant Ritz Carlton, now lifeless meat who had contained the fluids Bathory bathed in.

“I wish you would let go of this outdated belief, my dear.” Vlad dipped a finger into the bath, then raised the finger to his mouth and then licked it clean. His face twisted in a grimace. “Bathing in food is kind of gross.”

Raising a leg out of her sanguine crimson bathwater, she daintily slid the sponge over her calf. “Dear cousin, how would I maintain my immortal beauty if not for my little rituals of caring for myself?”

He snorted in reply.

Frowning, she shifted in the tub to look at him better. “I assume you are interrupting my bath because we have made progress in finding the Unblooded One?” Her eyes narrowed. “Well?”

Vlad kicked one of the dead girls forcefully enough to slide the body across the floor until it hit the wall. “Don’t forget who made you, Elizabeth. I am the King of the Night, and I will unmake you, if need be.”

Immediate frustration crossed her features, but she looked demurely down. “Yes, My Lord. I am sorry.”

He cracked his knuckles. “That is better. As it happens, yes, my network has uncovered certain things. I’ve found Jonathan again. I believe he can lead us to the Unblooded.”

She blinked in surprise. “It’s been over a century. How did you find him?”

Vlad stepped back over to the tub, crouching down to lean against the side of it. “Luck, mostly. One of the watcher families spotted him. We need to discuss what to do.”

Exposing her fangs, Elizabeth spat venomously, “Kill them. He and Mina are ungrateful little vamplings. Though I do miss her little diversions.”

Vlad shook his head. “As always, your hot-blooded nature is controlling your mind. And tongue. Think about it, Liz. I believe we should watch him. Your fascination with the werewolf family will inevitably draw him to them. We can use him, so long as he remains unaware of us.”

Stopping and thinking, she eventually said. “Okay. But what about Mina? You said they found Jonathan, but what about her? I miss the … pleasures of her company. If we spare them, can I have her again, My Lord?”

Vlad smiled. “The other shoe has dropped, I see. She is not with him. None of the watcher families have seen her. Should we find her, I will gift her to you.”

“What? I thought those two were inseparable?”

‘“As did we all.” He shrugged. “But it appears they have, in fact, separated.”

“Well, now. Isn’t that interesting? So your command is that we watch Jonathan, My Lord?”

Vlad raised an eyebrow. “Indeed it is.”

“What of Van Helsing?” she questioned. “We’ve kept that feral dog caged for a century instead of letting him hunt and die, like all the other accidents of his kind. What’s the point if we don’t use him? If we unleash him, I am sure that he will flush out all of our quarry.”

“No. We will not unleash him. You need to let go of your little vendetta, Liz. There is much more at stake here than your blood feud.”

“The Magyari family, the Matthias family, and the Thurzo family imprisoned me in a tower, My Lord. Wolves attacked me, using their minister figurehead. I’ll not just let it go. To the end of time Tabitha and her line will pay for their machinations!” Her cheeks flushed with anger.

Lightning fast, Vlad’s hand shot forward and he grabbed Elizabeth’s chin with enough force to crack the back of the bathtub. She squirmed in pain, splashing blood from the tub onto the floor. “Liz, you will not pursue this. This feud puts us all at risk. You could screw up the plan. Do you understand me?”

“I do, My Lord,” she managed to speak through her grimace.

“Good.” He released her chin. “Now be a dear and clean up the meat when you are done. I shall go set the chained Bwgan far-seer on Jonathan. We shall watch him from here.” Vlad strode out of the bathroom, leaving Elizabeth to her blood bath.

She watched him go, then stood, seething with anger. Breathing deeply she fought to steady her shaking hands. “Asshole.” She muttered. One day, soon hopefully, she would kill Vlad Tepes and take his throne. On that day, the vampire nation would throw off the shackles of petty alliances, free to do what they wanted.

Dripping blood, she daintily stepped over the bodies as she crossed the floor to the towel rack. She stewed, unable to let go of her anger. Vlad would die. The wolf family would writhe under her punishment. The Gray Ones would burn, unable to achieve their goals as the vampire nation turned its back on them.

Elizabeth Bathory really had authority issues.

***

Jonathan Harker & Robert Crowley Sr.

“Dammit, Jonathan!” Robert limped across the room, his old ankle injury flared up every fall as the snow storms started to come. The Thread of Fate, bound in the talisman hanging on his chest, pulsed warmly. “I can’t do this alone. I need your help. I can’t even go to Tabitha, despite the fact that I’m head over heels for her, because I have to fight nonstop.”