The Dark Arts of Blood (18 page)

“It’s Amy Temple,” whispered Charlotte. “The girl I rescued in the street. I knew I’d seen her before!”

“I should have known you didn’t bring me to the same dreadful film twice for no good reason.”

Charlotte went quiet as the scene changed. The swaggering hero fought his way to victory and the story played out with such strutting melodrama that the audience began to giggle.

The end of
The Lion Arises
was greeted with audible groans of relief, laughter and calls of derision. The man behind them stood up and began haranguing the streams of people making for the exits.

“Philistines! Do you not recognise great drama when you see it? You laugh because you don’t understand, like schoolchildren!”

Next to him sat a woman, pale and sinking down in her seat. She reached up and pulled at his coat sleeve. “Uncle!”

No one responded to the man’s protests. They only glanced in his direction, suppressing embarrassed smiles as they hurried out. Charlotte hesitated, as if she intended to speak to him.

The man – tall with a pale, stern face and gold-rimmed spectacles – looked straight at Karl and froze. His eyes widened, his thin lips parted. There were rare humans who would look at a vampire and see clear through the veil of deception. He had exactly that expression.

Dear God, he knows what I am
, thought Karl. People were bunching in the aisle behind them, so he broke eye contact and urged Charlotte to move onward. The moment was lost.

Out in the street, they walked until they reached the lake’s edge, well clear of the crowd. A brisk wind ruffled the water.

“That poor gentleman,” Charlotte said at last. “He must have helped make the film. Perhaps he wrote or directed it. How awful, to sit there with everyone making fun of your work!”

“I’ve no sympathy with him,” said Karl. “If he cannot tolerate criticism, he should not have been there in the audience. Even better, he should not have made the film in the first place.”

“You are cruel,” she said with a smile. “I was going to say something nice to cheer him up. Then I saw the way he stared at you. And the girl beside him, who called him uncle? That was Amy! I don’t think she recognised me. I do hope she didn’t hear me whispering about her.”

Karl recalled her description of carrying Amy to her house, the blood-scent so evocative that even now he felt a twinge of appetite. “Like a tropical flower that smells so luscious you can’t stop breathing in the fragrance,” Charlotte had said.

“So she is a film extra. Why does it matter?”

“Because…” They began to stroll across the wooden Chapel Bridge over the River Reuss. Lights danced in the water. “You say, ‘Don’t get involved with humans, don’t look at their faces or ask their names, or they’ll drive you mad.’ But it’s not that, Karl. I just wanted to know why she looked familiar. And I’m so glad I saw her in the cinema, alive and well.”

“You don’t think that the thug who stabbed you had also attacked her?”

“I don’t think so. Surely she would have told me? She only complained of… female problems.” Charlotte went quiet for a few steps. “The house I described up in the hills: did you know it was there?”

“No. I’m not familiar with the area. Not yet.”

“It can’t be more than a year or two old.
Very
modern.”

“Her uncle must be wealthy.”

“Reiniger Studios,” said Charlotte. “It was there on the credits. And Violette told us that the man who annoyed her the other day, wanting to film the ballet, was called Godric Reiniger. The house where I took Amy must be their premises. It would make sense; I saw and sensed people inside. And there were vans parked, working vehicles. I was curious, but I didn’t go in. See, I do listen to your advice. I walked away.”

“Straight into the path of a maniac,” he said grimly, “who is still free to roam the town.”

“Karl.” She stopped and gazed intently at him. “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but we may never see him or his friend again. There’s no point in letting them destroy our peace of mind, is there?”

“No,” he said, “but you can’t expect me to let it pass, as if nothing happened.”

“Perhaps we should.”

His hands rested gently on her upper arms, on the velvety russet fabric of her coat. Her mouth was so beautifully shaped that it was all he could do not to kiss her… but ever since that night, they had both controlled themselves. Charlotte’s fear that she might infect him in some way still haunted her. Instead they stood touching each other, but holding back.

“But our peace of mind
has
been disturbed,” he said. “You were desperate to find out about the knife. Have you changed your mind?”

They rarely argued. Karl was not combative, which occasionally made Charlotte more annoyed with him. Now she frowned, shaking her head minimally.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t want to think about the lamia, or the attack. When I try, my mind goes dark and nothing’s clear any more. Something is telling me that if we forget it happened, it will all fade away, but if we pursue the issue, it will grow into this awful great shadow between us.”

Karl exhaled. Perhaps she was right, but he couldn’t let the matter drop.

“Two men tried to kill you,” he said softly. “They harmed you in a way that we don’t even understand. Yet you’re suggesting that we walk away?”

“Actually, that’s what you have always told
me
to do.”

“Dearest, you insisted on sitting through an appalling film
for the second time
,” he said mildly. “That is not how I define walking away.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“I wasn’t looking for Amy with revenge in mind, only curiosity.”

“You think that I want revenge on those men?”

“Don’t you, a little?”

“Very well,” Karl conceded. “Yes, you’re right, but more than that I want
answers
. And so do you.”

“Yes, answers. Always. How do you manage to talk your way round me, every time?” She pulled a mock-angry face at him.

“I call it being reasonable. We both want the same thing, so we’ve no reason to argue.”

“True,” Charlotte said crisply. “Then we won’t be breaking your rule not to pursue humans for personal reasons. We’re searching only for understanding. Pure knowledge.”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling but serious.

She exhaled. “Aren’t we wondrous creatures? Half of me was dying to drain poor Amy’s blood that night, while the other half hoped that she would get better.”

Karl kissed her cheek, his lips lingering. “As I always felt about my cherished, human Charlotte,” he said softly. “Lucky for Amy that she fell into the arms of a vampire she could trust.”

“Well,” said Charlotte. “Lucky for her I was feeling kind at that moment, and not ravenous. Never trust a vampire.”

* * *

Stefan’s house was a handsome chalet on the shores of Lake Lucerne, with carved eaves, balconies, and a long veranda a few steps above ground level, perfect for his future house guests to sip champagne and admire the sunset. Karl approached through the dusk, watching the last molten glow of the sun swallow its own reflection in the water. Behind the house, meadows rose towards dark pine forests. Mount Pilatus floated in glory, vast and awe-inspiring.

So peaceful
, Karl thought, sighing because he knew why Stefan created such homes for himself and Niklas. Spider webs.

“Where’s Charlotte?” Stefan asked, opening the door before he knocked.

“Violette wanted to see her. I’m alone,” said Karl. He stepped inside at Stefan’s invitation and took in the scent of new pine, Persian rugs, spring flowers.

“Oh, I so want her to see our house.” Stefan managed to pull a face and grin at the same time. “She could have brought Violette with her. Unless Madame was in a mood to tear off my head?”

“She only tears the heads off those who deserve it,” Karl said mordantly. “But she’s calmer these days. Your head is safe.”

“Truly?” Stefan led him through a number of spacious rooms and downstairs to a living room on the lowest floor. Long windows opened on to the veranda that overlooked the lake. From this vantage point, the building seemed to be afloat on the water. “She didn’t go mad when she heard we were here?”

“She frowned,” said Karl.

Stefan laughed. “That’s all? She really has mellowed.”

“Ah, but what was going on in her head? That should worry you.”

“As I said, we’ve no intention of interfering with her or her precious ballet, as long as she leaves us in peace. Have we, Niklas?”

His twin came to stand beside him, as quiet as a cat. Stefan slipped an arm around his waist.

“And as we told you,” said Karl, “it won’t be you who causes problems, but your visitors. I know you too well, Stefan. You’ll fill up the place with idle young rich people as you always do. Other vampires will be drawn here. Ones who are less amenable to obeying your rules.”

“Karl, I can manage my household,” Stefan said mildly. “There’ll be no trouble, I promise. Look, there’s no one here yet: we’re rather enjoying the peace. Couldn’t you spend five minutes admiring the beauty of our new home before you start grousing at me? We call this the lake room. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“It is sublime,” said Karl. “And I’ve finished grousing, as you put it. I trust you.”

Red sunset flooded the interior, drenching the three vampires, turning Karl’s dark hair blood red.

“You trust me?” Stefan said with a grin. “That’s new.”

“Unless or until you do something insane.”

“Charming. I know I’ve not been the most reliable of friends. Yes, I used to sit at Kristian’s feet and do his bidding… You could accuse me of bending with every wind that blows, but at the time I knew no better, and I was afraid of him. And in awe, because he saved both my own wretched life, and Niklas’s. He gave us that precious gift.”

“I’m not criticising you for that,” Karl said evenly. “We were all Kristian’s puppets in those days.”

“But I broke away from him, for the sake of dearer friends: you, Charlotte, and most of all Niklas, my twin soul. And Violette. She’s a dragon, but who can help loving her?
La Belle Dame Sans Merci
.”

“She’s changed us all, in one way or another.”

“For the better?” said Stefan.

“I believe so,” said Karl. “Yes, I opposed her initiation, but Charlotte went ahead regardless, with your help. I believed disaster would follow. For a long time it seemed I was right. Some vampires come out of the transformation insane, and remain that way.”

“Kristian,” Stefan murmured.

“Quite. But Violette mastered herself. Eventually – though, heaven knows, it was an epic struggle – she found understanding and peace.” Karl paused, recalling her description of the spectre that had attacked her in mid-ocean. “As much peace as she can hope for, at least. I admire her strength.”

“Well, she’s become a figurehead for us, whether we want one or not,” Stefan said wryly. “And I truly don’t want my presence to upset her. Has it occurred to you that I might just wish to spend some time with Niklas in calm and solitude?”

Karl gave him a sceptical look. “I suppose anything is possible. No parties, then?”

“In time. We’re not making any promises. Are we, Niklas?” His brother, a gilded china doll, gave Karl an empty stare and a half-smile. “But for now… rest. Did you bring the, er, artefact?”

“That’s why I’m here.” Karl drew the bundled scarf from his coat pocket and let it fall open, so the bone-handled knife rested across his open palms. It twitched. He felt its cold energy numbing his hand even through the cashmere.

Stefan stroked the haft, snatched his hand away, then tried again. “Interesting sigils. Do you know what they signify?”

“Apparently a maze, with a skull at the centre. Its eyes are closed, which is anatomically impossible. What it means, I have no idea.”

“Any insights at all?”

“One,” said Karl. “Charlotte believes the knife to be carved of human bone.”

“Oh? Suitably macabre. I do hope she’s right.”

Stefan took the dagger from him, cupping it in both hands with the scarf beneath, as if cradling a baby bird. He said nothing, only stared at the weapon’s yellowish glow with glazed eyes. The sunset deepened to crimson.

“How is Charlotte?” Stefan asked after a while.

Karl hesitated. “In truth, I’m not sure. She says she’s well, but I catch her in a trance sometimes… She still thinks the lamia is haunting her, and that I’m in danger too.” He stopped, not wanting to tell Stefan the painful details.

“She’s suffering from delusions?” Stefan, who rarely took anything seriously, looked alarmed.

“I don’t think she is.” Karl stared out at the blood-soaked sky. “If it’s real to her, then it’s real. I think she is still in shock. At first she was eager to find out who attacked her: now she wants to turn away and pretend nothing happened. Yet she seems rational, as sane as she’s ever been.”

“Which isn’t
very
sane, since she consented to run away with you.” Stefan gave a wry smile.

“I will find the men who attacked her. She says she’d be happier if I forget them, but I can’t.” He groaned. “Stefan, I love her with all my soul, but sometimes I wish I had walked away and left her human, after all she’s suffered…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone suffers. You know perfectly well that she would endure it all again, and worse, to be with you. And so would you.”

“True. She’s stronger than she seems. Violette, in the shape of Lilith, showed us fearful visions of the future, but she also helped to release us from fear. Made us more free to be our true selves.”

“I should like her to feed upon me again,” murmured Stefan.

“Still, I think part of us resists such drastic change,” Karl went on. “Suppose you feel guilt for drinking human blood. You think you’ve shed your conscience, then it comes back in a different guise. Visions, hauntings… anything.”

“I don’t bother with guilt,” said Stefan. “Never have.”

“I noticed,” Karl said acidly. “But even if you try to be less of a ravening beast, kinder and less lethal to humans? That beast is still inside you. It will find another way out.”

“I am rarely lethal to humans,” Stefan retorted. “I love them. That’s why they give their blood freely, and keep coming back for more.”