The Dark Arts of Blood (40 page)

K
arl stopped in his tracks. Reiniger swung round in front of him, staring hard into his eyes. The force of his ambition was like a hot wind on Karl’s skin.

“I want to become immortal. I want the effortless power that you possess. I am asking you to transform me into a vampire.”

A dozen responses formed in Karl’s mind: shades of dismay, anger, acid mockery. No words came out, because nothing he wanted to say would please Reiniger.

“Well?” Godric prompted, staring eagerly at him. Karl broke the gaze and looked into the distance. “Is my request so preposterous? It happened to you. At least
tell
me how to go about the transformation.”

“Why?” Karl said tonelessly.

“Because you owe me that much, at least.”

Karl was silent, distancing himself from the desperate heat of Reiniger’s hunger. Caught between the urge to vanish into the Crystal Ring, or simply to snap the man’s neck, he cursed his own instinct to be courteous in all situations.

Nearly all.

Eventually he said, “I took your father’s life. Now you wish me to extend yours in exchange? Is that your idea of a bargain?”

“I wouldn’t put it so simplistically, but yes. You can’t bring back my father, but you can grant me
some
recompense. Think of it: we could even become colleagues. You made a terrible mistake, but in exchange for this gift, I might find it in my heart to forgive you. We could be equals, Karl. Partners in power!”

Reiniger made the statement as if it were a glorious, irresistible prospect. Karl sighed inwardly. There was nothing to tell him but the truth.

“No,” said Karl. “Godric, it’s not what you think. After the transformation, you might feel so different that your human ambitions become pointless. The blood-thirst is a curse. In some ways vampires are more vulnerable than you realise, both to each other and to humans. And the prospect of eternal undeath can be more of a nightmare than a dream. Believe me, it is not what you think.”

Reiniger’s eyes glistened with impatience.

“I’ll risk it,” he snapped. “What are you doing – warning me, or refusing me?”

“Both.”

“Not good enough. You have this – this gift or curse, whatever you call it – but I cannot share it? That seems unreasonable to the point of selfishness.”

“Then I’m unreasonable, but I will not create another vampire. I’ve seen too much suffering. Besides, it’s not a straightforward process. It’s not a matter of my draining your blood and leaving you to rise from your coffin. I could drain your blood, but you will merely die.”

At that, Reiniger stepped back. Karl was glad to see this sign of fear. His sudden pallor indicated that he was not beyond reason after all.

“Not straightforward?” he echoed, his breathing shallow. “What, then? A ceremony of some kind?”

“All your research, and you haven’t found the answer for yourself?”

“There are so many different tales. I found references to a ritual requiring three vampires, but there was insufficient detail. The obvious difficulty lies in finding three vampires who will agree to help the human. That seems as likely as a mouse asking a favour of three hungry cats!” Reiniger smirked at his own wit. “And yet, I found you – or rather, you found me. That’s a great leap towards achieving my ambition. It’s a clear sign this is meant to be. Obviously you know other vampires. I’ve seen them myself. Tell me what to do. That’s all I ask.”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot tell you. I
won’t
. Even if your research uncovered exactly what is entailed – well, I can’t stop you finding others to help you, but I refuse to be involved. And you’re quite right; most other vampires would slaughter you before you uttered a word.”

“Indeed.” Reiniger moistened his lips. His stare held an ugly mixture of dread and determination.

“Actually, we couldn’t even drain you, since you seem to have poisoned your own blood against us. There are other ways, though. Some believe that taking life-energy instead is even worse for the victim.”

The blue eyes widened. Eventually he spoke. “I appreciate the warning, but let’s put all that aside. I am going to ask again. I wish to become as you are: a vampire. Please will you help me?”

“No,” said Karl. His tone was firm: not angry, but stone cold. “You don’t know what you’re asking. Forget this, Godric. I know you have some kind of occult knowledge and ritual practice. Why shouldn’t you? Everyone’s entitled to their secrets. Why not be content with that? I’ve seen evidence that your power is real. You have your art, your film-making and your followers…”

“It’s not enough.” Again he pointed towards the Alps. “I need to become my country’s saviour.”

Karl resumed walking, guiding Godric away from the lake shore so they would loop back towards the chalet. He asked, “Is there anyone in the world you put before yourself? Wife, child, sibling?”

Reiniger gave a soft snort. “Not really. I have no wife or child. Only Amy, who brings out what little paternal instinct I possess. I have a soft spot for the girl. Yes, I’d always put her well-being before my own.”

“Sending her to Dr Ochsner hardly supports that assertion.”

“As I said, I did so with her welfare in mind. Ochsner went too far,
much
too far, and I can’t mourn him. But, thank heaven, she recovered.”

“Well, imagine this. You are a newly made vampire with bloodlust raging, and your niece comes innocently to you and asks, ‘Uncle, is anything wrong?’ You would feast on her blood before you even realised who she was.”

“No! Not her.”

“But you would. And afterwards you’d realise what you’d done and weep, tear your heart to pieces with self-hatred for the rest of your existence. You say you’re concerned for her welfare. Do you not realise that there is already a vampire in your house who will happily feed on her, if she hasn’t already done so?”

Reiniger went still. A noise came from his throat, a sort of swallowed gasp. “What,” he said, “what makes you think such a thing?”

Karl had no intention of naming Fadiya. Knowing that Charlotte and Violette had gone to warn her away, he thought it unlikely she would ever be seen again. Instead he watched the man’s reaction. Although startled, he did not seem as shocked as Karl had expected.

He knew, without question.

“Vampires sense others. She has been seen. If you would nonchalantly put Amy and your household in such danger, you do like to play with fire, don’t you?”

“She promised…” Reiniger’s face was white in the darkness, his teeth bared. “You’re right, Karl, I have knowledge. Of course I know what she is. But she has
never
touched any of my people.”

“Then why is she working for you?”

Godric’s face stiffened into taut lines.

“I cannot tell you,” he said thinly. “She’s helping me. I’m not entirely unfamiliar with vampires, Karl. I control her. She is not dangerous to me.”

Lies
, thought Karl, but he let the matter drop for now.

“No vampire can be trusted,” he said. “My point is that we all feed on humans whether they’re family or strangers, innocent or criminal. Blood is blood. I will not create another vampire. I won’t make you into a creature that goes out and destroys lives, as I have for so many years.”

“All the more reason, then. Since your kind poses such a great threat to me and my circle, how much safer we’d be if I were also a vampire: ruthless, as strong as a lion hunting down the hyenas.”

“But you have your enchanted or cursed knives to use against us. Aren’t they enough?”

Reiniger gave him another penetrating, unreadable stare.

“I can’t speak about that. And no, they are not enough. Karl, you
must
agree to my demand. One way or another, I will become like you.” He edged closer. With his slightly greater height he almost loomed over Karl.

Karl’s hand shot out. He wanted to seize Reiniger’s neck, but stopped at the last instant and braced his hand against the man’s breastbone. He acted to alarm him and to push him away. To repel the pressure of his demands, and the sourness of his blood.

Reiniger radiated a force like electricity or radium, invisible but as tangible as the wind. Karl still couldn’t identify the power, but he was convinced it was connected with the
Istilqa
knives that weakened vampires and strengthened humans.

Rarely he’d found an artefact or a place hostile to vampires, but this was different. Reiniger was a blank page, guarding his secrets.

“You’re missing the point,” said Karl. “I’ve tried to reason with you but none of my arguments have had the slightest effect, have they? You want what you want.”

“As I said, I’ll take the risk,” Reiniger hissed.

“Then I will repeat my answer, as respectfully and clearly as possible. No. I will not help you become a vampire. My answer to your demand is
no
.”

He dropped his hand. Godric stood rubbing his collarbone, swallowing convulsively, his face like limestone in the darkness.

“Very well,” he said softly. “You’ve made your position clear, Karl. I should not have embarrassed you with my unwelcome request. I should have known… better.”

“Your friends will be missing you at the party,” Karl replied without malice. “Let’s go back inside and forget this unfortunate conversation.”

“Excellent idea,” Reiniger murmured, adding in English, “You cannot blame a fellow for trying.”

* * *

“My beloved friends,” Stefan greeted Charlotte and Violette as they re-entered the salon, arm in arm. “You’ve been missed. Up to mischief, I hope?”

He and Niklas formed a kind of shield to ward off the admirers who immediately bore down on Violette. The room was chaotic now, the mess outpacing the waiters’ attempts to clear away empty glasses and full ashtrays. The band was raucous, guests dancing with abandon. A fug of smoke, alcohol and sweaty perfume filled the air. After the quietness of the night, the noise and bright colours were an assault on Charlotte’s senses. As much as she loved Stefan, she wanted to flee.

“There was, um, a situation,” she said, kissing his cheek. “All sorted out now.”

“I’m glad to hear it. So you found your quarry?”

“Yes, as if she thought not coming to the party would help her.” Charlotte smiled. “Violette, please tell me I haven’t got my dress dirty. Stefan might kill me.”

“You are pristine,” Violette replied. “Not a hint of dust… or blood.”

“Well, I daren’t ask what happened,” said Stefan. “If you are going to fight in the street,
please
don’t do it wearing an exquisite new gown I’ve bought you. Come and mingle.”

“Just for a little longer,” Violette sighed. “I wasn’t designed to play the gracious hostess for more than an hour at a time. Besides, familiarity breeds contempt. I have to maintain my mystique, you know.” She gave a narrow, self-mocking smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous. As if they could ever have enough of you!” Stefan retorted.

“You’d be surprised,” she sighed. “Funny, it hasn’t changed since I was human; if I talk to anyone for more than a few minutes, they start to think they’re my best friend, touching my arm, wanting to exchange addresses… Then, however politely I brush them off, they decide I’m an ice-cold witch.” Violette shrugged. “They may well be right, so it’s safer to keep them at arm’s length before it even starts.”

“We’ll protect you,” said Stefan. He slipped his hand through her other arm. Niklas walked beside him like a cat with knowing, golden eyes.

Charlotte wondered, as she had countless times, what went on in Niklas’s head. Sometimes he was an empty shell; at others he seemed fully aware, his lips forever closed on his own mysterious wisdom. Even if he had no true intelligence, he was always serene. And he had Stefan to look after him: there were worse ways to exist.

“Where’s Karl?” she said, scanning the room. “He went off with Herr Reiniger. Hasn’t he come back yet?”

“I haven’t seen either of them,” said Stefan. “Do you want to speak to Reiniger about this business of filming the ballet?”

“I can’t decide,” Violette said darkly. “Half of me says no, not in a thousand years. He’s a dangerous egotist. He has a vampire working for him. His followers have attacked both Charlotte and Emil,
and
tried to lure Emil away. Who knows what they were planning? But the other half of me says that if I agree, we could get to know him and find out who he really is.”

“And why he’s got such an odd weapon as the
Istilqa
knife,” added Charlotte. A series of horrible possibilities ran through her mind: Godric drawing a similar knife on Karl, or Wolfgang and the others surrounding him in the dark… “We should have asked Fadiya, while we had her attention.”

“She might know something, but it’s too late,” said Violette. “She’s gone.”

“
Where
is Karl?” Charlotte repeated, growing more worried.

“I don’t know,” said Stefan. “Perhaps they’re down in the lake room.”

As she went on looking around – as if that could make him magically appear – she caught the eye of Wolfgang Notz. For several long seconds they held each other’s stare. This time she did not turn away, but glared right into his soul, silently telling him,
Yes, I know who you are and I am not afraid of you. You survived last time, but come after me again…

He looked younger and more nervous than she remembered. Colour flushed his cheeks. At last he broke the stare and turned away, plainly shaken if not terrified.

Charlotte caught her breath with a sense of satisfaction. Then a voice spoke in her ear, startling her.

“I’m here.”

She had sensed Karl’s presence only a fraction of a second before he spoke.

“Oh, thank heaven,” she said, leaning her head into his shoulder as he embraced her from behind. “I was worried.”

“No need.”

“Did you find out anything of interest?”

Karl gave a muffled groan into her neck that sent shivers all through her. “I’ll tell you later. We should talk somewhere quieter, I think.”

“Actually, Karl, I’d like to leave soon,” Charlotte said in a low voice. “Violette wants to go, too. No offence, Stefan, but all these people – how do you stand it?”