Read The Dark Arts of Blood Online
Authors: Freda Warrington
The lights seemed to dim. His ears rang with the awful pressure he’d felt in the meeting chamber, as if an engine was rolling on its way to crush him.
Godric knew, and yet
didn’t
know, just how unhuman he already was. And the change was happening fast. Even as Karl watched his aura grew wilder, writhing and flashing with energy. Godric appeared to gain height, his flesh turning pale and hard like marble.
If only Godric Reiniger had been a crazed fantasist. Instead he was metamorphosing into a creature that didn’t know its own strength, but when he realised…
Karl saw that there was nothing to do except to stop him. And the simplest answer was usually the best.
Karl braced himself against the wintry power. He reached Godric and looked into his unblinking, triumphant eyes.
“Your father’s death was not revenge,” said Karl. “
This
is revenge.”
He seized Godric’s upper arms, held him rigid and sank his fangs into his neck. The blood was foul with the metallic taint of the knives, but Karl overcame his revulsion. If he couldn’t swallow the blood, he could still bite through the windpipe, through arteries and nerves—
Reiniger seemed to crumble like chalk in his hands. Dissolved, vanished.
Karl heard a commotion at the top of the room as men burst in to defend their leader. He stood heedless of his own safety – empty-handed. Where his victim had stood there was a shimmer of frost and air. Nothing.
Godric Reiniger had fled as only a vampire could: into the Crystal Ring.
C
harlotte left Amy in the Ballet Lenoir’s auditorium. She seemed happy to stand in the wings, fascinated by the set-builders at work and the musicians rehearsing.
They were preparing to stage Violette’s current ballets –
Swan Lake
on some nights,
The Firebird
paired with
Witch and Maiden
on others – oblivious to the fact that the whole project was in jeopardy.
But there must be rumours
, thought Charlotte. The ballet, like any organisation, teemed with gossip. Even the boy who swept the floors must have heard whispers that Violette and Emil were nowhere to be found.
Presently Amy came to Charlotte’s side in the stalls and asked if she could fetch the Bolex cine-camera and do some filming.
“Yes, that’s a wonderful idea,” said Charlotte, distracted. “I’m sure Violette won’t mind. It’s in our rooms, but I’m not sure where Karl left it and he’s not here. Come on, I’ll go with you.”
The activity would help take Amy’s mind off her uncle. Charlotte couldn’t forget so easily. With every breath, she saw renewed images of Niklas lying dead, Stefan shaking in wordless grief, Karl drawing the blade down his own arm.
She led Amy from the theatre into the academy next door, wondering if Karl and Violette were safe and if she should try to find them.
Which of them is in greater danger? And would my presence actually help, or make things worse?
Upstairs, at the far end of a corridor, she saw the door to their suite of rooms standing open. Karl was just inside the entrance. Charlotte saw him as if from a great distance, the passageway distorted like a scene from a horror film, the angles of the walls all wrong.
Her brief flash of relief at seeing him evaporated.
Karl was leaning back against the open door, and in his arms was another woman. She had creamy-pale clothes like gossamer, and was pressing the length of her body into him. Her lips touched his, and his arms clasped her back with affection…
Behind her, Amy gave a muted gasp.
Charlotte’s head swam. She couldn’t see properly. The woman moved away from Karl and walked deeper into the apartment, giving his arm an affectionate touch as she went. Just as Charlotte herself might.
“Stay here a moment,” she said to Amy, who obediently remained in the corridor, wide-eyed.
When Charlotte reached him, he was standing in the doorway alone.
They stared at each other.
Karl was so practised at appearing calm in most situations that she rarely saw him surprised by anything. Now he looked astonished. Thirty seconds passed like an hour, then he broke the silence.
“How did you do that?”
“What?” she said, confused. “I didn’t think you’d be home yet. Amy wants to film, so we came for the camera… and I find you being terribly friendly with someone else. Who is she?”
“Charlotte,” Karl said helplessly, “she was
you
.”
“How?” A mass of questions rose inside her, then all her emotions went as still as winter. “I’m here now. I was not here a few moments ago.”
“But you were. I was embracing
you
, not someone else. I thought you’d slipped into Raqia and gone in a circle, for some inexplicable reason…”
“I assure you, I didn’t. What did ‘I’ say?”
Karl’s gaze drifted over her shoulder. His expression went dark. “I don’t remember. Just endearments.”
“So I didn’t mention Amy, or anything else? I didn’t ask if you found Stefan with Herr Reiniger, or ask if you were hurt?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure you said anything at all, in fact.”
“Don’t you think it odd that I wouldn’t mention
any
of our concerns?”
“Strange in the extreme,” he said quietly. He looked towards the bedroom. “There was quite a scene at Reiniger’s house. I persuaded Stefan to leave. When I left, a short time later, I caught up with Stefan and brought him here… And I have just watched you walk into that room after him.”
“I saw her too. But that was not me. God, Karl…” Her voice went faint. “I tried to drive the lamia away, but I knew she hadn’t really gone.”
Karl and Charlotte hurried into the bedroom, a spacious room with a big double bed. Her breath stopped as she took in an appalling sight: Niklas’s body was on one side of the bed, a white sheet covering him to his chin. Stefan lay beside him, eyes closed, holding Niklas’s hand. He, too, looked dead – except for the occasional shallow breath or faint moan.
Of the “other” Charlotte, there was no sign.
“We both saw her come in here,” said Karl.
“Perhaps she went into Raqia.” A horrible feeling cascaded through Charlotte, like melting ice. “That knife wound really did split me in two. She isn’t me, she’s a living ghost, like part of my soul, and she has no mind, any more than Niklas did… yet you mistook her for the real me?”
“She felt solid,” Karl murmured. “I couldn’t tell you apart… except…”
“Except that she said nothing rational to you? Wasn’t that a telling sign? If it wasn’t, I’m insulted.”
Stefan sat up, making her start. “What are you two muttering about? No one came in here.”
* * *
Godric came back to the real world and to his human form in a meadow, high above Bergwerkstatt. Rather, he crash-landed: flew through a mad world of cloud and flame and ice-crystals, knowing with the irrational, sure knowledge of a dream that he’d become something more than human… then he plunged down, skidding along the grass like a grounded kite. Tall pine trees rustled around him. Clouds fleeted across the bright blue sky. Everything seemed too fast, too vivid.
He pulled himself into a sitting position and stayed there, gripping his knees, until his shock faded. Then the clarity of his thoughts astonished him. Obvious,
obvious
what had happened.
“I do not need Karl to transform me,” he said to the sky. “It’s happened. I’ve transformed myself.”
He sat there for at least an hour. The only sounds were of a stream gushing downhill and the distant music of cowbells. Presently he saw a figure toiling up the green hillside towards him. Wolfgang Notz.
Only when he saw Wolfgang did he remember Karl’s threat to his niece.
“Godric, Christ, there you are!” Wolfgang pushed a hand over his shorn hair and caught his breath. “We’ve been looking everywhere – we thought—”
“That the
strigoi
had killed me?”
“Well… yes! You both vanished from the screening room…”
“He tried,” Godric said off-handedly. “But he can’t. I have become impervious to death.”
Wolfgang stared as if he’d gone mad. “You’ve… what?”
“Is anyone looking for Amy?”
“Yes, of course, but… It’s no good panicking, because she’ll be no use as a hostage if they harm her, and they must know that.”
“When do I ever panic?” Godric rose smoothly to his feet. His spectacles were askew. He straightened them, wondering if his metamorphosis would include perfect eyesight. “Where did Karl go?”
“Don’t know. As I said, vanished. We were more concerned about you, sir. What happened? You’re covered in blood and grass stains.”
“Don’t look at me like that, Wolf.” He raised a hand palm upwards, fingers curled as if gripping a ball. “You still feel this intense power from the sacrifice of Bruno, the ritual with the vampire twins, from every single
Eidgenossen
gathering we’ve ever held?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know it’s real. I haven’t lost my mind. Wolf, I
went into another world
– how else do you think I got here? I’m changing. We all are, and I’m taking you with me, but only one of us can become the ultimate leader. It’s happening to me, Wolfgang. It’s wonderful.”
His deputy took a step back, his expression turning hard and wary. Not the expression of awe that Godric expected to see. “And how many more of us are you going to sacrifice to complete this process?”
“As many as necessary. Are you wavering?”
“No, but what we did to Bruno…”
“The men loved it,” Godric said with a smile. “You felt their excitement, their blood-lust.
You
loved it.”
“I’m not especially proud of that.”
“Embrace it, Wolf, unless you want to
be
the next sacrifice. It’s simple psychology. Fear keeps the men loyal. And as long as they stay loyal, their reward is to be part of the inner circle with a share of this astonishing power. It’s an easy choice, isn’t it?”
Wolfgang paused a little too long. That hard gleam of doubt was still in his eyes. “Not that easy. I believe in a strong nation. I believe in you – but I did not sign up to murdering our own comrades, nor to our becoming vampires. What, you want us to turn into the very monsters you despise?”
Godric thrust out his hand, seized Wolfgang by the shirt collar and twisted, almost lifting him off the ground. His strength shocked them both. Wolfgang’s freckly face went crimson.
“How dare you question me? I can destroy you at a stroke, Wolf. You know that.
Are you with me or against me?
”
“With you,” Wolf gasped, choking.
“I can’t hear you. State yourself clearly. Are you still loyal?”
“Yes, I’m loyal. I’m with you, sir.”
Godric dropped him and Wolfgang stumbled on to his knees, spit flying from his mouth as he coughed and cursed. When he straightened up, the two men stood glaring at each other – Reiniger ice cool, Wolfgang red-faced and gasping.
“We are not turning into vampires,” Godric stated. “We shan’t do anything as crude as drinking blood – unless we want to. No, we’re becoming strong in a nobler way. That’s my father’s legacy to us, through the
sakakin
…”
“All the same, I thought we’d win people through a sound mixture of reason and appealing to Swiss German hearts through your films. This business with the blood rituals has never felt clean, or honest, or right.”
Godric was suddenly tired. The flesh Karl had bitten was beginning to burn. He rubbed the wound, exhaled.
“I am deeply sorry to hear that,” he said, layering his voice with all the disappointment and irritated condescension he felt. “If you wish to withdraw your support, go – and see what happens.”
“I’ve said what I think.” Wolfgang stared into the middle distance, like a soldier at attention. “I won’t mention it again. You have my loyal devotion.”
“Excellent.” He pointed a finger at Wolfgang. “Everything goes ahead as we planned: the release of
Triumph in the Mountains
, the filming of
Three Tells
. Everything. But I need you to do one essential thing for me.
Find Amy and bring her home safely
.”
Wolfgang’s face still had a stubborn look that made Godric want to strike him.
“If we knew where to search… Would they take her to the ballet academy?”
“Keep a hostage somewhere so public, and obvious? No. They will have taken her back to that mountain chalet.”
Godric read his reluctance in his expression –
The place where the madwoman nearly killed me?
– but, to his credit, Wolf only swallowed and said, “Yes, sir.”
“I believe you’ll find everything there: Amy, and the missing
sikin
. It’s obvious. But don’t put her life at risk. Take all the men you need, take weapons, but don’t do anything rash. Remember, we are stronger than vampires now. Find my niece, and we’ll forget this difference of opinion.”
“Difference?” Wolfgang said under his breath as he turned and started down the hillside. He broke into a run.
Godric watched him through slitted eyes, then looked up at the drifting sky. He felt exhausted but invincible. He tried to keep his thoughts on Amy but she seemed remote; all he could see was Karl. That haughty, captivating face, the demonic eyes and razor-sharp teeth, the fire-tinged black shadow-cloud of his hair in a mess from their fight…