Immortal Blood (1) (2 page)

‘Good evening, Mr. Lothmire,’ I said, to a bespectacled man who looked thirty but was actually in his hundreds. ‘I believe my mother just had one of her security staff inform you I’d be coming.’

He looked up from behind a stack of dusty, leather-bound books and laid aside his golden pen. ‘That is correct, Miss
Ranka. It looks like, after all these years, you’re finally going to get your hands on the Castle of Finnvid.’

‘I can’t wait to read it. You’ve been telling me about it since I was five.
So if it’s a disappointment, it’ll all be your fault.’

‘You’ll enjoy the read,
never fear,’ he assured me, producing a cluttered keychain and leading the way down a long corridor with soaring columns and flickering candles. ‘It’s funny how I never see you sisters here. Well, Miss Asvi fetches a few volumes every now and then for your mother. But other than that, you’re the only Jonsdottir who really likes to read. Your father used to have an in insatiable appetite for books, you know?’

‘I know, Mr. Lothmire,’ I replied impatiently, all excited about the prospect of finding out the secrets of
Finnvid, which he had apparently hidden all over his lost castle. ‘You’ve told me many times before.’

‘
He was an adventurer, Mr. Jonsson.’

‘I’m aware of that.’

‘It looks like you inherited his curiosity.’

‘Uh-huh,’ I intoned, biting my lip with anticipation.

He came to a halt in front of a huge, caged alcove, inserted a key into the iron door and then said, before pulling it open, ‘With all due respect, Miss Ranka, adventurous types, as you well know, go missing sometimes – or worse, they wind up dead.’

He was obviously implying that I would share my father’
s fate if I did anything silly.

‘My father might still be alive, Mr. Lothmire.’

He made a face. ‘It’s been fourteen years since his disappearance, Miss Ranka. All I’m trying to say is: No book will ever bring him back. These pages can tell many secrets, but they won’t bring you father back from the dead. You won’t find him. It’s time to move on.’

‘If I recall correctly, h
is body was never found. We don’t know for sure if he’s dead or not.’

‘Logic says he is.’

‘But my heart says he isn’t.’

‘Hearts, Miss Ranka, have a tendency to lie.’

Dissatisfied with how the conversation was going, I raised my chin. Mr. Lothmire got the hint right away and dropped the subject. He then proceeded to search the dusty shelves, before withdrawing a book and handing it to me. ‘Well, if that’ll be all,’ he said, crossing his fingers.

‘Uh-uh,’ I objected, with a lopsided smile, ‘not so fast. I have permission to borrow two books. I want my second one.’

‘In that case, I have a few great works I can offer –’

‘Cut it out, Mr. Lothmire, you know exactly what I want.’

He took off his spectacles, massaging his eyeballs. ‘I’m afraid, Miss Ranka, that the specific title you have in mind is out of even your reach.’

‘Mr. Lothmire, I
need
that book. I can’t wait another fourteen years to be allowed in here again. This might be my only chance.’

‘Your mother has specifically instructed me to keep it locked away from you and your sisters.’

‘I need it to see it.’

‘I’m terribly sorry, but I cannot go against my mistress’s word.’

I came a step closer, fixed him with an imploring glare. ‘Mr. Lothmire, I am asking you to help me. How long have we known each other? How many hours have I spent down here helping you? Can’t you do what I’m asking? Please – as a personal favor to me! He looked undecided and slightly nervous, so I added, ‘You can always write it down as something else.’

‘You know what? I just remembered that I have s
ome urgent matters to attend to. That being the case, how would I ever find out if someone was to remove a title now and then return to its place at some later time? Here are the keys. Please lock up after yourself and leave them on my desk behind the counter.’

Without further ado, he rushed out into the corridor and
I instantly took to searching the ‘F’ section of the library. It took me about five minutes to locate it, and once I did, I leaped onto the two-story high bookshelf and used the keychain to unlock the thick oaken chest I had been searching for. Inside, lay my treasure: The last book my father had borrowed from the library before his mysterious disappearance. It was entitled
The Fang of Tong Fei
. Tong Fei had been the last of the werewolves, and werewolves, as it was well known, had all gone extinct about a century ago. That’s where warring with sorcerers got you.

Heart beating like a jackhammer, I did as Mr. Lothmire had asked and
raced off to my room on the double. I made sure to avoid running into my sisters and any particularly talkative coven members, like Andreas. The moment I reached my destination, I forced open the doors to my enormous balcony and climbed onto the shingled tower of a roof. Plopping down beside a winged gargoyle, I flipped open the Fang of Tong Fei and, what with my supernatural speed, reached page one hundred in just over thirty minutes.

Most of the information
that was concealed in the pages I already knew, partly from eavesdropping and mostly from my mother. But my curiosity was peaked the moment I reached the hundredth page, as the next seven pages were missing, torn out from the spine by the roots.

Frustrated, I quickly made my way to the table of contents, and found that the chapter heading was simply Genies. Finding it hard to breathe due to my emotional arousal, I read the last page of the chapte
r, which was only one sentence long:

So, if genies ca
n be killed, after all, Tong Fei’s victory over Brothmir the Ancient, proves that werewolf fangs are the only weapons capable of getting the deed done.

A foggy thought was beginning to form in my head, but the message it carried wasn’t clear enough to give me what I needed. So, without much
forethought, I threw open
The
Castle of Finnvid
and devoured one page after another with frantic eyes. Exactly two hours and twelve minutes later, I was done reading it and my head was full of new knowledge. But, more importantly, I had finally learned where Finnvid’s Golden Container was buried. According to the text, which was believed to be mere legend by some, it lay hidden in the secret passages under the castle.

There we
re only two problems now. One: According to the book, only genies had access to the Castle. And two: Even if I did get there and find Finnvid’s Golden Container, how would I submit the most powerful and ancient genie in the world? The being that everyone – even we, the strongest vampire clan in existence – respected and feared.

But i
t looked like my father had figured it out. The answer lay in
The Fang of Tong Fei
. How would I find the dratted weapon, though?

Come to think of it, I won’t have to go searching for the fang. The missing pages in the book speak for themselves. It appears Dad found the fang already, which means
all I have to do is find him. And if I succeed in that and he happens to be dead, then I’ll order the genie to bring him back to life. Surely, the most ancient spirit in the universe has such powers.
I chewed my lip for a moment.
So it’s directly to the castle, then? How will I get a genie to take me there, though? I can neither outfight nor kill one.

That was when I
registered a small flicker of movement in the corner of my eye and heard a familiar voice. ‘Hi, Ranka.’

Not believing my own e
ars, I looked up, thinking to myself surely he wasn’t that stupid. He wouldn’t come here and get himself killed. Anger flaring up at the sight of him, I felt a wave of humiliation wash over me. Naturally, I reacted by lashing out at him.

Using my superior physical strength, I pinned him down on his back, my elbow at his throat. ‘Not so tough when
the genie isn’t around, are we, sorcerer?’

‘Please,’ he said, looking completely unperturbed, ‘call me Calvin.’

Enraged by his calmness, I increased the pressure on his windpipe, my mouth watering as I watched the sudden rush of blood to his face. ‘What are you doing here? Decided to finish me off, after all?’

He surprised me with a kick to my back. I landed on all fours and was about to leap on him again when he pulled out a metallic bottle from his pocket, sa
ying, ‘Uh-huh, watch it. We wouldn’t wanna wake Sigurd, would we? He gets very grumpy when his sleep is disturbed.’

‘Coward,’ I hissed, feeling nothing but animosity toward him. ‘Can’t even have a fair fight with a girl.’

‘A vampire girl, if I may point out.’ That smile of his made me want to strangle him. Holding up Sigurd’s little home as if it was a gun, he cast a sidelong look at the books fluttering in the wind.  ‘What’s that you got there?’

‘None of your business,’ I spat, hoping he’d slip and fall off the edge of the roof.

‘No need to be so rude. Where are your manners?’

‘Manners? You must be kidding me
, sorcerer! I must have forgotten all about them when you tried to kill me!’

‘Hey, that’s grossly unfair. I saved your life.’

I had nothing to say to that but, ‘What do you want, anyway? Why are you here?’

He seemed to be lost for words at
the question, but then puffed out his chest, his eyes scanning every inch of me. ‘I came to see you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I’m here to see you.’

The notion that he would risk his own life to see me, an avowed enemy of his, simply could not lodge in my head. It didn’t make any sense. Was the moron really caught in the cobwebs of my charm? The thought intensified my thirst. The aroma of his skin and the scent of his blood were driving me c
razy. I yearned for a drink from his vascular neck.

‘
Well here I am. So say whatever you wanted to say?’ He pocketed the bottle and started striding my way. I quickly backed away. ‘Wait, what are you doing?’

‘
Stand still,’ he said audaciously. And, to my shock, he suddenly had one of his hands on my right cheek, his slender lips closing in on my puffy ones.

The moment I read his intentions, I landed a hearty smack on his
ear, but he completely ignored me. Slightly taken aback by his daringness, I pushed him away, no longer sure I wanted to hurt him. Never before had a human being – all of whom were nothing but game in my world – acted so confidently and disrespectfully toward me.

‘Are you touched in the head?’ I said, through gritted teeth. ‘I can easily kill you, you know that, right? Besides, what makes you think I want scum
like you touching me?’

‘Did you just call me scum?’

I folded my arms, a smirk spreading below my delicate nose. ‘So what if I did? What are you gonna do?’

‘Don’t play games with me,’ he replied, perhap
s sounding a tad too serious, his fuming green eyes bore into mine. ‘I know you don’t think so right now, but you’re gonna be mine – you will fall in love with me.’

In the blink of an eye, I was standing right before him
, my face twisted in anger. ‘How dare you speak to me like that, sorcerer? I can snap your neck right here and now, or maybe I should hand you over to my mother. She’ll teach you some manners.’

‘
Awww, gonna run to mommy?’

‘We can always go with the first option.’

His handsome face was only an inch away from mine, but I saw no fear in his demeanor. On the contrary, he was excited.

‘Kiss me,’ he said, holding my burning gaze. ‘You know you want to.’

I frowned with disgust, considered punching him in the face, but then thought better of it. I suddenly had a better idea, something that would crush his ego. ‘As you wish.’

Grabbing his red hair, I squeezed my lips against his, filling my lungs with his sweet scent as I did so. ‘There. I felt absolutely nothing.’ I delivered dryly in his dumbfounded countenance, once I was done. ‘Remember, sorcerer,
a wolf does not belong with a sheep.’

With that, I grabbed my books and leaped off the roof, landing on my spacious balcony. The moment I reached my bedroom, I slammed shut the doors behind myself and tried to steady my drumming heart. I had lied to him. The kiss made me feel…something…something I had never experienced before. S
omething I wanted to feel again, and something only he could give me. Strangely enough, I hated myself for it.

There was an abrupt knock on the balcony doors and as I looked throu
gh the glass, he exhaled onto it and used his finger to draw a little heart.

‘Ranka,’ sounded Asvi’s voice, and I nearly jumped at the unexpectedness of th
e sound, but instead drew the curtains, at the same time asking myself what was wrong with me? Was I being protective of the enemy?

‘Yes?’ I managed to reply, without seeming distressed.