Authors: Carla Susan Smith
A Vampire's Honor (20 page)
Chapter 22
A
leksei swallowed and licked his lips, something he'd been doing repeatedly as his nerves got the better of him. Did a soldier approaching a battlefield get a dry mouth? he wondered. He'd never known anyone who was a soldier, but during his training sessions, Tomas had shared some stories about military life and its expectations. Whether these were his own experiences or tales told by others, Aleksei couldn't say. Tomas spoke as if they were his own recollections, but if they were, then he was the oldest soldier still standing. And that might not be as far-fetched as Aleksei might think. Still, the question of longevity aside, Aleksei could not deny being intrigued and finding a certain appeal in the military life. If only his mouth wasn't so dry!
leksei swallowed and licked his lips, something he'd been doing repeatedly as his nerves got the better of him. Did a soldier approaching a battlefield get a dry mouth? he wondered. He'd never known anyone who was a soldier, but during his training sessions, Tomas had shared some stories about military life and its expectations. Whether these were his own experiences or tales told by others, Aleksei couldn't say. Tomas spoke as if they were his own recollections, but if they were, then he was the oldest soldier still standing. And that might not be as far-fetched as Aleksei might think. Still, the question of longevity aside, Aleksei could not deny being intrigued and finding a certain appeal in the military life. If only his mouth wasn't so dry!
“You can admit to being scared,” Gabriel said softly from the other side of the carriage. “Being scared can be a good thing.”
“It can? I thought you wanted me to be bold and brave.”
“Those are two very fine qualities, but they can sometimes mask foolish behavior. If you expect to come out of this alive, then it would be better to be scared than overconfident.”
“So you are expecting me to win this fight?” Aleksei noted in a colorless voice.
Gabriel stared at him, his expression unreadable in the gloomy interior. “Have you given any thought to the future, Aleksei? To what you might want to do with your life once this is over?”
He shook his head slowly. In truth, he'd thought of nothing beyond having Petrov on his knees before him, begging for mercy, something that Aleksei had no intention of giving. He didn't care if he did burn in hell for it. His gaze flickered to Gabriel, who was staring at him with such intensity, he was forced to look away. He noticed the vampire had not answered his question, but perhaps, he told himself, that was answer enough.
Despite Tomas's vigorous efforts, it soon became apparent that Aleksei was not cut out to wield a sword, and they might need to rethink the pitchfork. At least he was familiar with the feel of it in his hands. But stabbing the count, even through the heart, was no guarantee of the quick death necessary to facilitate Aleksei's escape.
“The best thing for you,” Tomas had told him, “is to get in close, and cut here.” He placed his hand on Aleksei's neck, showing him where he meant. “Do it properly and he will be dead before he hits the ground.”
“What would I use?” Aleksei asked.
“This.” Holding out his hand, Tomas showed Aleksei the dagger that had miraculously appeared there.
Utilitarian in appearance, it might have easily been overlooked as a weapon. No jewel adorned the guard; there were no fancy markings on the blade, and the handle looked heavy. As if it had been designed for a large hand. The hand of a peasant farmer. Reaching out, Aleksei curled his fingers around the grip, nodding his head in satisfaction. This was a weapon he could use. His training resumed, but with a different technique now.
Tomas showed Aleksei how to get close enough to slice deeply across his enemy's neck, making him practice again and again, until Aleksei felt confident he could do the job blindfolded. But Aleksei was no fool. Slicing through a gourd that was standing in for Nikolayev's head was one thing. Doing it to a living, breathing manâone who would most likely be armed and fighting backâwas another. His only hope, he told himself, was that Petrov would be so affronted by his challenge, he would drop his guard for a moment. And that would be all the time Aleksei would needâa moment when he could slip inside the count's defenses and mortally wound him. Hopefully before being wounded himself.
It was the height of arrogance to assume Aleksei was going to come away from this encounter unscathed. He had serious doubts about his chances of surviving the encounter at all, but this was something he kept to himself. And now Gabriel was asking about his future, which could only mean the vampire expected him to survive. Did he know something Aleksei did not?
“What if I can't do it?” Aleksei said suddenly. “What if, at the last moment, my hand fails me, and I can't kill him?”
Gabriel leaned back against the plush upholstery of the carriage. “This is not like killing a rabbit for your dinner. Taking a man's life is no easy thing. The first time you do it is always the hardest. It will change you, Aleksei, make no mistake about that. You will not come away from this unscathed.”
“Change me in what way?”
“I've seen it happen in one of three ways,” Gabriel told him. “Some men find the experience so unsettling they never raise a hand against their fellow man again for the rest of their lives. Other men find the violence thrilling, making them yearn to repeat the experience, so much so that they have to be forcibly stopped.”
Gabriel fell silent, prompting Aleksei to ask, “And what is the third way?”
“Men who understand that killing is sometimes necessary but refuse to allow the action to define who they are,” Gabriel paused, and Aleksei felt the weight of his stare intensify. “I have known but a handful of such men, and all of them have earned my respect.”
“But what if I can't kill him?” Aleksei repeated, his question betraying his lingering uncertainty. “Then don't,” Gabriel said quietly. “There is no shame in admitting you cannot kill, and no one will think any the less of you for it.” In this case “no one” meant himself and Tomas. “Should you find yourself unable to complete the act, for any reason, then I will take his head for you. All you have to do is ask . . . or not. If the count still draws breath at dawn's light, then he will know to whom he owes his good fortune.” Gabriel leaned forward, his long white hair falling past his collar, partially obscuring his features. “But look to your heart, Aleksei, and know the manner of man you are dealing with.”
“You're saying if I don't kill him . . . then he will kill me.”
“Yes, I believe he will.” Gabriel's tone was grim. “He allowed you to live only because he never believed you would seek him out. By doing so you are setting a dangerous precedent.”
“I am?” Aleksei now looked startled. He had no idea what a precedent was, but he could tell it was something serious.
“You are taking a stand, daring to stand up for yourself. That takes some balls, my friend.” Gabriel pointed his finger at Aleksei's crotch. “And from what Tomas tells me, yours are more than adequate for the task.”
Aleksei was about to ask how Tomas could possibly know such an intimate detail when the carriage came to a stop. He turned his head, and his mouth dropped open. Aleksei had been impressed by Gabriel's house, but he was stunned by the sight that greeted him now. Light blazed from every window, a warm and welcoming glow that made Aleksei think perhaps the sun had decided not to set after all and was favoring Count Petrov by bathing his house with golden light. There were more people than he could ever remember seeing before in one place, alighting from carriages similar to the one he now sat in. He watched as they climbed the broad steps that led into the house.
“Do I have to go ”âa lump lodged in his throat, forcing him to swallow it downâ“through there?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No, Tomas will take you around the back of the house. It will be an easy task to slip unnoticed through the kitchen.” Seeing a frown of worry appear on Aleksei's brow, he added, “There will be so much commotion, I doubt anyone will stop you, but if they do, let Tomas speak. He knows what to say.” Aleksei nodded in relief. “Tomas will take you to the room I told you about,” Gabriel continued, “and I will bring Petrov to you there.”
It had taken Gabriel just one night to make a thorough examination of Nikolayev's house. Gliding silently through the rooms, he quickly had the entire layout committed to memory, including a salon on an upper floor that, judging from its neglectful state, appeared to have fallen into disuse. It made more sense to have Tomas, rather than Gabriel, take Aleksei to the room.
“What if someone comes or is already in the room?” Aleksei asked.
“No one will come, and the room has not been made ready for any practical purpose. It looked exactly the same as when I first saw it.”
“But when did you
last
see it?”
last
see it?”
“A few hours ago,” Gabriel told him.
Aleksei blew out a breath to calm his nerves. His trust in Gabriel was absolute; in himself... not so much. “How long will it take before you bring him to the room?”
“I won't know that until I'm inside, but I promise to make you wait no longer than is absolutely necessary.” Leaning forward, Gabriel grinned. “I recall there being a very fine clock above the fireplace. Perhaps you could pass the time taking it apart? I don't think Count Petrov will object,” he added with a sly wink.
Of all the items on display in Gabriel's house, Aleksei had been most fascinated by the clocks. He had a vague idea of how time was measured, but he had always relied on the sun to judge the passing of the day. As for days and months, those he marked with the rhythm of the seasons and church holy days.
Seeing him staring at a clock, captivated by the movement of the hands, Gabriel had taken it apart, showing him how the inner mechanism functioned. Delighted by his enthusiasm, Gabriel had given him a clock of his own. “This one does not work, and I confess I am at a loss to know why.” He placed the clock, along with a small collection of tools, on the table before Aleksei. “Perhaps you can take it apart and find out what ails it, hmmm?” Delighted to have something to occupy both his hands and his brain, Aleksei tapped in to an undiscovered aptitude for mechanical devices.
Now he stared at Gabriel and wondered if the vampire had not had a hand in making sure he would not spend the time fretting. Challenging his brain would settle his nerves. The opening of the carriage door made him jerk back in his seat, but the feel of Gabriel's hand squeezing his shoulder was reassuring. No words were spoken, but as Aleksei gazed into neon-blue eyes, a sense of calm washed through him. He knew that no matter the outcome of this night's events, his life would be forever changed.
All because he'd put his trust in a vampire.
* * *
Gabriel narrowed his eyes as he watched the dancers moving across the polished ballroom floor. A step here, a step there, a bow, a dip, the touch of hands, only to repeat the entire sequence with a different partner. His gaze was focused on Nikolayev and the pretty young woman he was dancing with. He had led the attractive brunette onto the dance floor three times now and followed her with an almost predatory gaze when her attention was given to another. Despite reconciling with his wife, it seemed the count had already taken a new mistress.
Gabriel allowed himself a satisfied smile. It would be a simple matter to persuade the young woman to accompany him up the grand staircase to an upper room. And to be certain the count saw them go. A man who believed he was in danger of losing such a prize to a rival acted rashly, allowing prideâand his cockâto dictate the course of his actions.
Disappointing the number of young women hoping to be offered his hand, Gabriel led Nikolayev's new mistress out for the next dance. It wasn't difficult to see the attraction. She laughed at his compliments, but there was also a shrewd intelligence hiding behind her pretty blue eyes. And the mildly flirtatious manner told him her role as the count's lover had yet to be solidified.
As Gabriel and the young lovely danced, he was keenly aware of Nikolayev's interested gaze. Turning his partner, Gabriel noticed a trusted confidant murmuring in the count's ear, no doubt relaying Gabriel's credentials. Though the name and lineage given would be suitably impressive, both were impossible to verify. He was surprised when Nikolayev strode purposefully from the ballroom, a look of barely concealed excitement on his face. The confidant's message, it would seem, was about something else entirely.
It was a few moments more before Gabriel was able to return his partner to her companions and take his leave. He forced himself to adopt the same casual pace of movement as those around him. Without knowing what might have precipitated Nikolayev's departure, it would be unwise to draw any unnecessary attention. He crossed into the grand entrance hall at the same moment he saw Nikolayev pause at the top of the staircase.
Gabriel followed and watched as Petrov approached the room where Aleksei waited. It was almost as if some unknown force had already revealed who waited within, and for what purpose. Gabriel saw a cruel sneer curl Nikolayev's lip and knew that the element of surprise had been irrevocably lost. He waited until he saw the door to the seldom-used salon swing open, wondering why Nikolayev hesitated. And then the sudden blur of movement was all the answer he needed.
Gabriel was not the only vampire at Count Petrov's ball.
Chapter 23
A
lthough Aleksei told himself he was ready, the sight of Nikolayev in the open doorway took him by surprise. He was halfway out of his seat, prepared to drop to one knee in deference, when his sister's face suddenly filled his head. It was all the motivation he needed. His hand was reaching for the dagger Tomas had given him when a blur of movement at Nikolayev's shoulder distracted him. It wasn't until he felt the hands around his neck, the massive chest pressing against his own, that Aleksei realized what the blur was.
lthough Aleksei told himself he was ready, the sight of Nikolayev in the open doorway took him by surprise. He was halfway out of his seat, prepared to drop to one knee in deference, when his sister's face suddenly filled his head. It was all the motivation he needed. His hand was reaching for the dagger Tomas had given him when a blur of movement at Nikolayev's shoulder distracted him. It wasn't until he felt the hands around his neck, the massive chest pressing against his own, that Aleksei realized what the blur was.
Instinctively he put out his hands, trying to ward off the danger, but it was already too late. The chair he was sitting on broke beneath him, the curved legs no match for the combined weight of man and vampire. As he fell back, Aleksei felt his shin strike the edge of the table, unbalancing it. His flailing foot completed the job by overturning the table with a crash.
“Noâwait!” Nikolayev shrieked from the open doorway. The creature turned his head. “Your Grace, if you will permit”âNikolayev pausedâ“I need but a moment.”
Your Grace? Was that how he was supposed to have been addressing Gabriel all this time? Why hadn't Tomas corrected him? The fingers around his neck relaxed slightly as the vampire shifted. He was similar enough to Gabriel that Aleksei's senses were put on high alert. Same strength, same bearing, almost the same scent. Only the long silky hair was markedly different as it shimmered between blue and purple.
How had this vampire known he was here? And who was he? Did he know Gabriel? Surely he had to. His presence was too much of a coincidence, and they were so similar they could be brothers. Perhaps they were. But if it had been Gabriel's intent to deliver him into Nikolayev's hands, then why go to all this trouble? He could have turned him over at any time.
Could it be that Gabriel
didn't
know who the vampire with the periwinkle blue hair was? Reluctantly Aleksei made himself consider the possibility. It was obvious, however, that the vampire was known to Count Petrov.
didn't
know who the vampire with the periwinkle blue hair was? Reluctantly Aleksei made himself consider the possibility. It was obvious, however, that the vampire was known to Count Petrov.
“I knew you would come,” Nikolayev said, addressing Aleksei. Having closed the door, he now stared down at him. “They told me you had disappeared from the village, and I knew it was just a matter of time before you came for me.”
“Then I am glad not to have disappointed you,” Aleksei said, surprised at his own boldness.
The freedom to express himself had been an unexpected gift. Encouraged by both Gabriel and Tomas, it came with an unexpected audacity Aleksei had no idea he was capable of. The shock on Nikolayev's face at being addressed with such impertinence was its own reward.
Now the count narrowed his eyes in anger. “Do you know what he is?” he demanded, gesturing with his hand.
The vampire turned his head and allowed Aleksei to look him fully in the face. His features were almost identical to Gabriel's, but where Gabriel's eyes were an indescribable shade of blue, this vampire had eyes of the palest green. They reminded Aleksei of an unfurled leaf or new growth breaking through rich soil.
Seeing something in Aleksei's face, perhaps a knowledge he did not expect, the vampire pulled back his lips and dropped his fangs. Razor sharp, they glistened in the low candlelight. If the vampire suspected he was not the first of his kind Aleksei had seen, he wanted there to be no doubt that he would be the last.
Doing his best to show no fear, Aleksei said, “You are vampire.”
Nikolayev, expecting Aleksei to scream with terror, stamped his foot in frustration. All peasants lived lives filled with superstition, so he should not have been upset when one of them recognized, and accepted, a vampire standing before him. Or, as in this case, lying on his chest.
The oddness was in the fact that Aleksei recognized a vampire who looked nothing like those in the dire tales from his childhood. This creature was no vile corruption of something that had once been a man. No personification of evil or a specter from a nightmare. Like Gabriel, he was also something . . . more.
“My only regret,” Nikolayev said, lifting his lips in a cruel sneer, “is that I didn't get the chance take your sister again before I slit her throat. I would have liked very much to hear her scream again as she lay beneath me . . . while you watched.”
The rage that swept through Aleksei was a terrifying thing. Wild and uncontrollable, it infused his limbs with a deadly strength. And he wasn't the only one who felt its force. Pale eyes narrowed and then warmed with a hint of amusement as strong fingers suddenly released their hold.
Aleksei had no idea why the vampire should let him go, or what he found so amusing, but he was not about to waste the opportunity. With a lunge, he caught Nikolayev by the ankle, pulling him off-balance and making him fall. He couldn't remember which side of the neck Tomas had said was the best place for his blade, but that was now a moot point. The dagger had flown from his fingers when the vampire had taken him down. Forced to improvise, he scrambled on top of the count and began to choke him.
For a man who was getting the life throttled out of him, Nikolayev didn't struggle nearly enough. He made a token effort, a few wild swings at Aleksei's head and shoulders, but nothing to indicate he feared for his life. It was almost as if he expected to be rescued. As the count's face began to turn an alarming shade, Aleksei saw him start to gesture frantically with one hand. The movement could have only one interpretation, and Aleksei realized the vampire was beholden to the count in some way.
In a spurt of rage, Aleksei increased the pressure of his fingers. He grunted in satisfaction as he felt a sudden bolt of urgency in the struggles of the body beneath him. And then, just as Aleksei was certain the count was starting to fade, he felt the cool silky whisper of hair across his cheek. Strong fingers that moments ago had been wrapped around his own throat now cupped his chin. His head was pulled gently to one side, and out of the corner of his eye, Aleksei saw the vampire extend his fangs.
“I would rather have taken him and spared you,” the accented voice said in Aleksei's ear, “but I gave my word.”
Aleksei swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple move against the vampire's palm. “You must know whatever he said . . . whatever he did . . . it was a lie.”
“Yes, but that was a discovery made too late.”
An arm wrapped across Aleksei's chest, holding him close to the vampire. He looked up, startled to see that Nikolayev was now bracing himself against the wall with one hand and rubbing his neck with the other. The imprint of large fingers was clearly visible on the count's pale skin, but Aleksei felt his brow furrow. He was certain he hadn't let the count go. The vampire, noticing the marks on the count's neck, also gave a grunt of approval. It was a strangely satisfying endorsement.
“Do it!” Nikolayev suddenly screamed, beating a fist against his thigh. “And make it painful. I want him to suffer.”
The grip on his chin became a little firmer. “Do not fight me,” the vampire instructed as he buried his fangs in Aleksei's neck.
Fight him? How? With what?
Completely immobilized, Aleksei had no choice but to concentrate on the sensation sweeping through him. He felt a mild burning sensation as razor-sharp points sank into his skin and pierced the thick vein below the surface. His pulse accelerated as the vampire began to suck, but instead of feeling fear, Aleksei burned with shame at his immediate raging erection. Curling his hands around the arm across his chest, he did not seek to break free, but rather to hold on. The last thing Aleksei wanted was for anything to interrupt the vampire at his neck. He gave himself over completely, knowing as he did so that this was not suffering. His family had fared far worse.
The pull at his neck was getting stronger. How many mouthfuls had the vampire taken? Three? Four? A dozen or twenty? Aleksei had no way of knowing. He opened his eyes and noticed the fading light. Either the candles were dying . . . or he was.
Nikolayev moved closer, wanting a better view of how the vampire was draining his victim, but Aleksei didn't think he would be able to see much. The fall of purple-blue hair obscured most of the vampire's face, and the count's expression became that of a man realizing he was being cheated of a great prize. Catching Nikolayev's frustrated look, Aleksei gave him a warm smile. It was the only weapon he had left with which to punish him.
The darkness was increasing, coming faster now, and Aleksei was having difficulty discerning substance from shadow. Nikolayev was turning hazy, threatening to become vapor in a few moments more. Aleksei recalled a memory from childhood. A priest, not the same one who had braved Magda's hut, but an older, kinder man, had told him he had nothing to fear from death.
“When you die, my son, if your heart is pure, you will be carried to heaven by the gentle hands of angels,” the priest had said, “and bathed in the warmth of a soft, glowing light.”
It would seem the truth was somewhat different.
Death came for Aleksei on a great roar of thunder, bringing with it enough blazing light to blind him. And there were no angelic hands lifting him to paradise. Instead, he felt himself being rudely yanked free of the vampire's embrace and thrown over a broad shoulder, his throbbing erection crushed against a mass of muscle and bone. He couldn't decide which was worse, his need for release or his embarrassment at having a hard-on at such an inappropriate time.
* * *
“Life or death, Aleksei, which do you choose?”
Gabriel stared down at the cruel scar that covered half the peasant farmer's face.
He would carry the witch's signature with him for the rest of his life, no matter which choice he made. The healing properties that came with being a vampire would only restore injuries received as a vampire. They could do nothing for wounds already given.
Gabriel had been halfway up the staircase when he saw the familiar shock of periwinkle hair. Only one vampire, to his knowledge, was so brightly hued, but he could not imagine what might have brought Kartel to this house on this night. Still, there was no mistaking another Original Vampire. It had been so long since he last saw another of his kind that Gabriel was momentarily shocked. He hesitated and almost cost Aleksei his life.
He burst in through the door and realized Aleksei was only moments away from the point of no return. The moment where the amount of blood lost would be too great, giving his mortal body no chance of recovery. Humans facing the precipice of death rarely got the chance to step back from the edge, and those taken there by a vampire never were. They either became a vampire or were tossed over the edge.
In separating the two of them, Gabriel had been splashed with Aleksei's blood. It was a few drops only, but enough to reveal he possessed the element that would enable him to make the transition to vampire. Something Kartel could not have failed to recognize as he drank. There was no precedent that said the offer had to be made, but that an Original Vampire had not done so troubled Gabriel. True, the process was not as easy as was believed, and it could only happen if absolute submission was given. And relinquishing their independence was something most humans were neither willing nor prepared to do.
But Gabriel could not, in all good conscience, deny Aleksei his chance to become a vampire. He had already asked if Gabriel would change him, and his reply had been “not without good reason.” Was imminent death good enough? It seemed to Gabriel to fall into that category, which was why, after throwing Aleksei over his shoulder, he had fled with him. Climbing upward through the grand house, Gabriel had exited onto the roof and from there moved across the city until the safety of his own home came into view.
Now, with Aleksei in his arms, he made his way to the chamber that held his sarcophagus. “Life or death, Aleksei,” he repeated softly, lying down with him on top of the blue marble. “I can give you either, but you must chooseâand quickly, my friend, for time is running short.”
“Does . . . Petrov . . . live?”
Gabriel could not answer with any certainty, but he recalled the look on Kartel's face when he'd pulled him away from Aleksei. Unpredictable and cruel, Kartel had cared little for the human race as an angel, and even less as a vampire. Indeed, Gabriel had often wondered what had driven the angel to stand with him on that battlefield so long ago.
With neither compassion nor any depth of understanding, Kartel had been known to change a human simply because it amused him to do so. Without proper guidance, the effects of the transition could be traumatic. The fact that no vampire changed by Kartel had ever managed to survive beyond their first year was considered by Gabriel to be a good thing.
And now he was certain the same fate awaited Nikolayev, although in this case Kartel's cruelty might be considered poetic justice.
“He lives . . . for now,” Gabriel said, grimly.
Aleksei gripped his arm, surprised at the feel of bare skin beneath his fingers.
“It will save time,” Gabriel told him, answering his unasked question, and wondering if Aleksei was coherent enough to realize that both of them were naked.
Other books
The Stopped Heart by Julie Myerson
Murder In School by Bruce Beckham
When Solomon Sings by Kendra Norman-Bellamy
The Glass Slipper by Eberhart, Mignon G.
Remember by Karthikeyan, Girish
La Venganza Elfa by Elaine Cunningham
A Mutt in Disguise by Doris O'Connor
Behind Every Cloud by Lawless, Pauline
Canvas Coffin by Gault, William Campbell