Legacy in Blood (Book 1 of The Begotten of Old Series) (3 page)

Leave the child alone
, Dalana commanded with her thoughts.

One of the amoebic tentacles slowly extended towards her.

Mine is not to listen to you
, came its answer after a few moments. Like all the lower creatures, the wretch had trouble formulating sentences.

Leave the child and take another soul!
Dalana ordered imperiously. She knew who this creature’s Master was. It did not matter to Him who was taken: the golden-haired girl was the choice of the amoeba.

Mine is wanting this soul!
the creature declared obstinately as it stretched its loathsome feelers towards the girl.

Dalana instantaneously transformed a portion of her awareness into a long, blood-red spear and deftly cast it into the squirming, feculent blob.

The beast howled like a thousand wounded wolves. The shockwave of sound instantly blanketed the entire celestial expanse for a radius of several kilometers. The Lus froze, dissolving into spherical clots. The dismayed specters hurriedly abandoned the plane. Even the humans, whose ear drums were not designed to perceive such sound waves, shivered uncomfortably in their seats.

The amoebic beast tried to escape, but Dalana thrust her weapon ever deeper into its body as if she were pinning it to the floor. The creature whined piteously now, but Dalana was in no hurry to release it.

How dare you defy me
, she bellowed in the creature’s mind.
Me, whose generation stems from the Red Sovereign Himself!

The Red Sovereign, a Supreme Divinity – the Overlord of the sanguinary gods, of the true ancestors of the creatures that humans call vampires. The Red Lord had also been named in many ways by many peoples. In Dalana’s homeland he was called Ata Ulan, the Red Tengri. Humans who were not too well versed in matters of Christian terminology would probably glorify him as Satan. Others of a more whimsical, ‘literary’ persuasion might call him Enkil, spouse of Akasha, Hollywood’s King of the Damned. Of course, who had damned them and why still remained unclear.

However, the beast writhing on the floor had never seen a Hollywood movie, much less a Hollywood vampire movie. Be that as it may, even though it understood little of the world in which it was hunting, it understood Dalana perfectly. The language of pain is universal.

Mercy on mine
, begged the creature.
Mine is to serve You
.

That’s how they were, these lower spirits. Times flowed on, but with them nothing changed. They betrayed their Masters as soon as they could, regardless of the era and level of progress.

I have no need of an unfamiliar
, Dalana thought contemptuously.
I’m simply commanding you to leave the child alone and take a different soul for your Master.

Mine is taking who You is saying
, the creature consented obediently.

Dalana pondered how she should act: should she release the wretch to hunt wherever it pleased, or should she keep it captive for a while longer? And why did she suddenly take pity on this human child? Dalana looked at the girl. She was slightly pale and sleeping fitfully, snuggled up against her mother. Most likely, she would be ill for a few days. But she would recover.

“Good morning, passengers of flight 2483,” The stewardess’ voice resounded over the loudspeaker. “We are about to land in Stockholm’s Arlanda Airport. Please make sure that your seatbelts are fastened and that any items are safely stored in an overhead bin or under the seat in front of you.”

Well, well – Dalana hadn’t noticed how quickly the time had gone…yes, and just so do the ages pass by, replacing one for another.

Follow me
, Dalana snapped severely as she pulled her spear out of the creature’s body.
I will decide what to do with you later.

Its only reply was a subservient whimper.

The walk from the gate to the arrivals hall passed by without incident. But for some reason Dalana was seized by an unpleasant foreboding that appeared as soon as the landing gear touched Swedish soil. Perhaps someone on board was tailing her? Dalana once more probed the consciousnesses of each of the passengers, including the crew. No, none of these humans were following her, and moreover they were all really humans. All the non-humans had fled except for the amoeba creature who was now following at Dalana’s heels.

The customs officer, who returned her blue passport and smiled nastily at her, did not call forth alarm either, even though, judging from the thoughts that tumbled about in his narrow-minded head, he was focused on the special services. Dalana touched the minds of everyone around her. She needed to be very attentive: the sensation of being tailed increased as soon as she walked out into the airport terminal.

She’s a professional…

There it is! The scrap of thought was completely scattered, but Dalana caught it. That meant that whoever dared to play this game of cat and mouse with her was quite close.

In the next instant Dalana saw them, both of them: a black-haired youth, obviously of southern blood, and a girl. They hadn’t noticed her yet. He was gaping like an idiot at each person who walked by, which seriously irritated the girl. She was full of doubts, as opposed to him: he was almost ready to burst. On a hormonal level the youth reminded her of a mad dog, but the girl called forth sympathy in Dalana. She was beautiful. It was a low-key beauty, understated so she would not stand out in a crowd. She was tall for a human woman and her eyes were dark blue. Not azure, but a dark blue perhaps best called sapphire. Dalana decided to preserve the girl’s life, in so far as that was possible.

However, it was time to emerge from cover.

The girl noticed Dalana just a bit sooner than her partner did.

Even more beautiful than in the photographs. And younger.

Well now, that changes everything, doesn’t it? She wondered how they had found her. Where she had made a mistake.

I WANT YOU!

The boy nearly jumped out of his trousers at the sight of Dalana.

Oh, I would give it to you, oh yeah, I’d give it to you so good.

Well, boy, you’ll pay dearly for your lust. But first Dalana would find out everything she needed to know with the help of his tiny, weak little brain.

I’d lay you out right here in front of everyone.

Dalana paused, took off her glasses and turned her face towards him. Then she peered into his consciousness.

Well, go on then. Do it.

The reaction was ecstasy, which immediately enthralled the boy like a wave rushing through his mind. Yes, it was a genuine tsunami. He stood, unable to move, and devoured Dalana with his eyes. The girl tried to get a response from him through the communications device, not knowing that it was useless. He was ready…

…and a flood of information began to gush into Dalana’s mind.

Vampire. CRUSS. Papa. Assignment. Marisa is jealous…

What a primitive individual!

She probably has long legs. I’m going to fuck her.

The girl was getting very nervous. Dalana needed to hurry.

Meyering. Stupid prick. Also a vampire. Why did she whack him? He fed on ugly Americans. They’ve probably got some real nice classified info over there. But we’re the best. No contest. CRUSS! Classified material. Stupid Americans. FBI. Agent Scully. I’d fuck her.

Now she understood. It was all because of her last mission. Mr. Meyering, that pseudo-vampire, even managed to turn things to shit when he was dead. Well, it was definitely time to get out of here, but first she wanted to bid adieu to the lovely girl. So Dalana winked at her, not really expecting the girl to see or notice. Human vision was still too weak. But strangely, the girl did see. And she rushed straight for Dalana.

Dalana recalled the beast, which by this time had already grown bolder, and now was inching its feelers towards the entranced boy.

Take him and return to your Master
, commanded Dalana as she walked away. The future fate of this threesome no longer interested her.

Outside, the first thing she did was chuck her cell phone into the trash. But then Dalana’s nostrils caught the scent of a transmog, a turned vampire. There he was, in the guise of a taxi-driver, standing there, awaiting his next human passenger-victim. Sorry, my friend, but you are going to have to wait a bit for your supper. Dalana walked over to the transmog.

I need your help.

He responded immediately: he grinned at her wolfishly, but in a way that concealed the canines behind his lips. All vampires smiled so, both those who were Begotten of Old and those who had been transmogrified.

What should I do?

He was far from stupid. He took the correct view of the balance of power between them. Most likely he was not less than five centuries old.

I need shelter.

Dalana walked over to his car.

“Do you speak Swedish?” he asked.

Dalana nodded.

“Where do you want to go?”

“To the Metropol,” Dalana said loudly.

This dialogue was for the benefit of anyone listening.

I know a place. It will please you.

“And your luggage?”

“This is it.” Dalana raised the hand holding the valise in an ostentatious gesture. “I always travel light.”

They might follow me
.

“Have a seat,” he offered, gallantly opening the door of his car for her.

I understand. I’ll lose them.

Ducking into the taxi, Dalana arranged herself as comfortably as possible. The car swung nimbly away from the curb.

“Excellent camouflage,” she said aloud, complimenting his car.

“I understand that it’s not what you are used to,” he began in an apologetic tone.

“There’s no need,” Dalana interrupted him.

“Filip,” the vampire introduced himself. Will you excuse me?”

And he took out his cell phone, hit two buttons and pressed the device to his ear.

“Lucinda, hi, will you do something for me?” he began without any preamble. “Yes, yes, and warn everyone that this time our guest is quite out of the ordinary. That’s all, see you later.”

He put his phone back in its place and added respectfully, “We would be honored to have a Begotten of Old accept our modest assistance. Are you hungry?”

“No,” she assured him. “And please, Filip, please don’t ask me anything more for a while. I need to think.”

He nodded and Dalana lost herself in her thoughts. The passport under the name Darla Van Glek, which had served her for almost ten years, would no longer be of use. And with it she must forget about the apartment in New York and the Moscow villa on Rublevsky Road, and about much else besides. The FBI must have already been working on that idiot Meyering when she took on the commission. Nice. The client had paid her a million dollars, but the apartment that she had lost, with its views of Central Park – that alone was worth ten times as much! But it couldn’t be helped. Such is the job – what you have today you lose tomorrow. Ultimately, the real estate loss was not the most upsetting result of this mess. Dalana was still a fantastically wealthy individual. She would have no problem securing new documents and new properties, as she had already done many times before. The other result was worse – because of this incident she had to ask for help from the transmogs. Of course, they had no idea that this Begotten of Old was one of the highest paid jewel thieves in the world. Was Dalana a hired assassin? No, by no means. Simple murder was usually too banal for her, and she had rarely engaged in it even at the dawn of her career, but it was often a requirement in the bigger picture of a job. At this point in time, she referred to such work as ‘assistance in the conclusion of an especially delicate problem.’ She had a few extremely serious rivals. An enchanter, a native of South Africa – he had a sublime gift for changing his appearance as did all changelings in principle. A Chinese man, a monk from the Shao Lin Monastery – he could control the wind, for he kept company with Gods of the Ethereal Elements. And mademoiselle Yuriko Ottiker – she was a female half-breed with whom Dalana was personally acquainted. European through her father, Yuriko resided in Switzerland and enjoyed a rabid popularity among the local male population, who were sincerely convinced that the mother of this marble-skinned beauty was a Japanese aristocrat. However, even her father, long dead in the course of time, never guessed that the Mistress of the Sea of Marmara herself had conceived a child from him. Yuriko was also very good at what she did, and she earned quite a bit of money, but unlike Dalana she preferred not to pass beyond the borders of Switzerland, only carrying out local commissions. Chances were that the list of rivals was not exhausted with these three, but to all the other ‘hatchetmen’ Dalana was generally indifferent. Furthermore, her worth was already so immense that she could have quit her profession long ago. She could have, but she did not.

Recalling the transmog who was sitting in front of her, Dalana probed him through and through just to be on the safe side. But she could see nothing dangerous to herself save for the fact that the pseudo-vampire by the name of Filip craved her body, just like that human puppy.

The car, in the interim, had reached a strong, yet showy wall covered in monograms and emblems. Dalana stared at these pretentions of the modern nouveau riche. However, it could all be a bit more complicated than that. Filip slowed the car down.

“We’re here,” he told her.

And the gates in the wall, opened smoothly, allowing the car to pass into a spacious courtyard. A pair of magnificent Dobermans, barking furiously, met them at the entrance of the house. The dogs changed their tune as soon as they scented Dalana’s powerful musk. The door opened and Filip ceded the way to her. For a moment Dalana froze on the threshold.

This house was an abode of vampires. Vampires who, like Filip, had been transformed, who had once been human.

We are delighted to see our guest, Begotten of Old. Henceforth our home is your home.