Immortal With A Kiss Part 23

I could not give in to fear. It meant death for everyone in the room. With determination, I summoned my strength and shouted, "Stop!"-and to my surprise, this startled it. It blinked at me, and the tiniest of my preternatural resources bubbled just enough to reach the thing. Although my touch was more like a brus.h.i.+ng-off than the punch I'd intended, the vampire's reaction was astonis.h.i.+ng. It reared at the sight of me, mouth gaped in horror as it bellowed a single word: "No!"

The vampire dropped Vanessa to fling its hands up over its face, covering its hideous appearance. At this unexpected display of vanity, I instinctively stepped forward to catch Vanessa before she struck the floor, but I was not quick enough. She fell with a sickening thud and lay there in a state of semiconsciousness. A glimpse of blood under her head indicated a head wound. The pool spread quickly.

I stood frozen in fear that he'd killed her, but her head rolled slightly as she let out a small moan. Her arms reached up, as if begging for her tormentor to take her up into his arms again.

I lifted my gaze back to the hovering revenant still cowering from me. My momentary advantage would not last, and the effects of the drug were taking their toll. I belatedly realized I'd made a grave error by coming here without any protections, any weapons. I had been so groggy and disoriented I had not realized what I was doing when I left the room without them. Cold dread seeped into me, like a bloodstain spreading fast across linen.

Then Ruthven did a strange thing. Instead of pressing its obvious advantage, it withdrew, recoiling away from me. To my amazement, it retreated several steps to the corner. Its twisted body was hunkered over, its arms held as if to s.h.i.+eld its face from view. I watched this, amazed and puzzled. Then, as it threw an agonized glance at me, I realized it was ashamed! The proud Ruthven did not want me-its sister, its equal, its mate-to see it like this.

It whimpered, betraying its desperate state. Oh, yes, I knew this creature, for it had revealed itself to me in trying to seduce me. It longed to be admired, loved even, wors.h.i.+ped as a G.o.d and G.o.ddess in one. But this vicious, loathsome beast before me was its true form, one it had to a.s.sume when it fed. All guise was gone, all pretense of the charming lover, revealed for what it was in truth-not glorious at all, but ugly and base, greedy, sniveling, insecure, childish.

"It always comes to this," I whispered. "It always ends in death. That was what Madge told me on the first day. These poor girls. They think you are beauty. But you are in reality this: A hideous monster. Death. Evil. Repulsive."

I stressed the last word, testing it. Ruthven twitched, as if touched by fire.

I turned to the girls he'd cast under his thrall. "See, all of you, see what your Cyprian Queen truly is. Not beautiful, but ugly. A monster, not a G.o.d."

They looked confused at first, then dawning terror claimed each one of them in turn. As it did, they scuttled away from the hulking creature in the corner, sobbing loudly and clinging to one another.

Ruthven's mournful wail came from a reptilian throat. "My lovesick beauties . . ." He reached a taloned hand toward them, and they screamed, clamoring to get away from him. The razor-sharp claws closed into a fist. An unearthly shriek shook the room, and the creature curled venomously as it turned back to me.

I reached out my hand toward it, clamping down my mind in fierce concentration. Sweat broke out on my brow as I searched for its mind, its essence. My skill was weak, but I clung to the knowledge that this was what I was made for. It would come to me. It had to.

"I once thought you worthy," it hissed. "You viper!"

It pushed back, and my connection snapped off. The girls' screaming pitched anew. The sound seemed to annoy Ruthven, and it swept its hand in an arc toward where they huddled together. "Sleep," it murmured, and silence fell as all in the room, save me, swooned into unconsciousness.

"No!" Margaret called, stepping forward with her hands held out beseechingly. "Not me! I want to see!"

I thought the demon smiled at her. It curled its talons in the air, a sickening gesture of affection, and as the other girls subsided, she remained standing.

"Eustacia," I called behind me, afraid the young girl, too, would fall under the spell. But the vampire had not bothered to quiet her; she stood transfixed and silent. I urged her: "Fetch my bag from my room. It is under the bed-bring it to me immediately. Go!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Margaret step toward Eustacia as the younger girl turned to flee. Margaret snagged Eustacia by her nightdress and yanked her so hard Eustacia flew onto her back and yelped in pain. She lay there, stunned and unmoving.

"Eustacia!" I called out in alarm.

Margaret whirled to me, her eyes gleaming with a wicked fever. "Vanessa wants this. You must not stop it!"

"It is not true," I shouted at her.

"He will make her eternal!"

"You ignorant fool! The transformation takes three times bitten. I a.s.sure you it is not giving you the transformation. It is feeding! Vanessa will die. You all will."

She sneered, as if I knew nothing. "She will be his immortal love. He promised."

"A cursed immortality," I said. "Look at your G.o.d now. Did he promise to take you as well?"

"She will." Margaret's gaze fell to her friend, writhing on the floor. Her gaze softened and I saw her love for Vanessa written on her features, so plaintive and lost it hurt to look at. Her breath hitched as she drew in a shaking breath laden with the full burden of her emotions, and murmured, "Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss!"

I lost no time exploiting this moment of weakness. With a well-placed kick aimed squarely to her knee, I brought Margaret down.

With a groan, Eustacia struggled to her feet. "Run!" I urged her. To my great relief, she staggered out of the room. Neither Ruthven nor Margaret attempted to stop her.

A rush of air behind me brought me back around to see Ruthven had taken flight and was almost upon me.

As with so many times when I faced my supernatural foes, I let instinct bid me. This time, I let myself fall back, reaching my hand out as I hit the ground. My palm slapped into a puddle of Vanessa's blood. I felt its wet warmth on my skin.

I brought my hand up and held it in front of me. The creature's attack halted immediately, nearly a hair's breadth from my face. The blood of its victim seemed to have a deleterious effect.

My mind was working furiously, hampered by the drug. How long would it take Eustacia to get back with my bag? How long could I hold off the vampire like this?

"I would have made you a G.o.ddess," Ruthven murmured bitterly. "My greatness . . . My art . . . I thought you would be honored, but you . . . you were jealous all along! You hate me because you see my greatness. You want what I have gained, you ungrateful traitor."

"Her?" shrieked Margaret. "No! You promised Vanessa will be your G.o.ddess, and I her handmaiden!"

Ruthven swept its hand out with a cry of rage, and Margaret was flung away, up against a mirror standing in the corner. It shattered around her, and she fell among the shards, unconscious and bleeding.

The sound of running footsteps came from the hallway behind me, and I knew Eustacia was back. Ruthven knew it, too. It chuckled, and before my eyes, as it swiped the back of its long-fingered hand across its mouth, erasing the last trace of blood, it transformed into a beautiful youth. The face beyond lovely, with a serene smile and penetrating blue eyes, all capped with a halo of perfect gold curls.

Stretching out its arms, it flew up toward the ceiling, a vision of beauty neither male nor female, as transcendently awesome as Michelangelo Buonarroti's finest painted masterpiece.

It held its hands out, a smile s.h.i.+ning from its face. "I am the Cyprian Queen, G.o.d and G.o.ddess of love beyond imagining, and ecstasy beyond any human touch."

A movement on the ground caught my attention, and I saw Vanessa had risen. Holding her hands out to the vision of youth, her blood-soaked hair clinging wetly to her body. She cried, "Her lips suck forth my soul!"

With a tinkling laughter, the angel came to stand before her. I moved quickly to intercept them, ready to fight for Vanessa. But she caught me off guard with a strength I didn't expect. Her shove sent me back wheeling, giving her time to fling herself at Ruthven.

The beautiful vampire's eyes s.h.i.+fted to me as it gathered her into its arms. "You will be very sorry," it promised, and then it soared into the air, Vanessa in its arms.

The sash of the window flew open, and a frigid gust of wind blasted into the room. Then the fiend dashed out into the night.

"Vanessa!" I called, rus.h.i.+ng to the sill. But it was too late. She was gone.

"Mrs. Andrews!" Eustacia cried from behind me. I felt her press my bag into my hand. But I could not tear my gaze from the window. The wind blew into my face, leaving me gulping desperately for air, but I barely felt the cold as it bit through my nightdress. The night was brilliant with moonlight, alive with the movement of the wind as it thrashed the treetops.

I watched helplessly as Ruthven hovered outside the window, chuckling as it clutched its euphoric prize. The maniacal look of its evil intent, somehow incalculably worse when written on such heavenly loveliness, was horrible to behold.

I fumbled in the bag, my fingers closing around the shaft of the stake. Even as I extracted it, I knew it would do no good.

"Eustacia, do not look," I mumbled.

"But-"

"Do as I say. Close your eyes!"

I did not close mine. I watched Ruthven's victorious glee as it dropped Vanessa Braithwait. The sound of her scream as she fell four stories, the sound of her body hitting the ground below, the immediate silence after, was beyond dreadful.

I cried out, my wail of frustration and rage echoing in the night. The vampire whirled to leer at me, cackling an evil laugh as it did so. Its golden head caught the moonlight for an instant before it flew off into the night, and was gone.

I held Eustacia in my arms, rocking her back and forth as she screamed and cried in horror. I wished I could do the same, but all of my emotions were choked by the bitter knowledge that I had failed and a beautiful child was now dead.

I found myself staring at the puddle of Vanessa's blood seeping into the floorboards. It was on me, on my hand, on all I touched. I felt a wave of sickness and regret, making me sway on my feet.

"Mrs. Andrews," Eustacia pleaded. "We must go."

I knew she was right, but as she led me from the room, I stopped her. "No. Wait."

Margaret still lay on the floor, surrounded by shards of broken gla.s.s. I bent over her to see if I could find a pulse. I did, and it was strong enough, but she was still unconscious. "She needs tending," I said to Eustacia.

But she pulled at my shoulder. Her voice was filled with panic. "Come away. If they find you here they will suspect the worst. They already do not like you."

"I . . ." She was right. I had no way to explain the carnage all around us. As we left, I wondered why no one had come yet. Then I thought of my own foggy head and realized everyone must have been drugged. I wondered how this was achieved, and thought of Margaret. "Eustacia, could Margaret have done this?"

"Margaret can do anything," she whispered fearfully. "You do not know her. She is obsessed with the Cyprian Queen."

"She has been learning about witchcraft," I mused aloud.

Eustacia peered curiously at me. "You think she cast a spell?"

"No, of course not. I was thinking more that she might have used herbs to make everyone sleep." We made our way out into the hallway. "Do you know what you saw tonight?"

"No," she answered quickly, "and I do not want to. I am writing to my father and telling him that if he does not take me out of this school I will run away. Perhaps now that Vanessa is dead, he will believe what I have been telling him, that something terrible is happening here." She looked at me fiercely. "But I swear I will run away if he makes me stay."

"I do not think you will have trouble convincing him. Now that Vanessa . . . Well, it cannot be hidden or covered up any longer."

"You knew all along there was danger. You knew about that . . . that monster."

I sighed. There was little purpose in hiding anything now. "I did know. But I did not know enough. I should have done more." The words were empty, fed by emotion rather than rational thought. I knew I could not have saved Vanessa. The knowledge was bitter.

Eustacia shook her head, her face haunted by fear. "I cannot imagine what would have happened tonight if you had not come. I could have been killed, too." She swallowed, her fingers touching quivering lips. "I am sorry for Vanessa, but it was her own choice. Margaret and the monster poisoned her, but she wanted it."

"She didn't know," I said quietly. "It deals in lies and deceit. It changes itself to what its prey desires. An angel, a demon, a G.o.d. It is some kind of evil chimera."

What I'd just said hit me. Chimera-that was the name of the grotesque orchid Suddington had shown to me. Dracula chimaera.

The plan Eustacia and I laid out went flawlessly. She raised the alarm at dawn, and told the story that Vanessa had thrown Margaret into the mirror when Margaret tried to stop her from leaping to her death. Once Margaret was subdued, Vanessa had carried out her plan to kill herself, presumably due to being distraught over an unrequited love. It was inevitable the Irish boy would be named as the reason. My presence was never mentioned and the other girls who had been sent out by Ruthven had succ.u.mbed to the sleeping potion with which Margaret had doused the rest of the school. They awoke disoriented and confused, remembering nothing to contradict our story.

I impressed upon the headmistress to summon Serena to see to Margaret's injuries. Sloane-Smith was dazed with the aftereffects of having been drugged and so she granted my request and my friend was called, bringing with her an urgent message for me that Valerian wanted to see me as soon as possible. There was much that required my attention at the school, however, both in my official capacity of teacher and in my unofficial one. I had to put the protections back in place, a task which proved a significant challenge as regular cla.s.ses were suspended and the girls had free access to their dormitories. At last, during dinner, I was able to get inside and do what was needed.

I found something very curious in the execution of this duty. Small bags of seeds and some dried leaves or herbs were tucked into the coven girls' beds. Uncertain what they were, and taking no chances, I burned them.

Fire purifies-that was why witches were burned. But the smoke from evil burning is toxic. As the tiny fire I had made with the bags in the brazier in my bedroom ignited, I nearly choked, recoiling from the potent aroma. And I saw in the flames tiny figures writhing-as if something malevolent was dying an agonizing death.

I felt a sense of deep satisfaction as the spell on each bag was broken.

In the quiet of Serena Black's cottage, I sat wrapped in a blanket, hunched over a cup of coffee made strong and sweet (in the Turkish manner, Serena informed me, learned from her grandfather, the son of an Ottoman sheik).

"Rather an exotic past," I had commented weakly when she'd handed me the brew.

"No more so than yours," she'd replied. "Now drink. It will soothe your nerves, and you need it."

After taking a sip, I gave her a questioning look, for I could taste the alcohol strongly. She merely shrugged and went about her kitchen works.

"We cannot stop him," I said without emotion. The addition of spirits to my coffee had been a good idea; I wanted to dull the feelings of despair inside me. "Ruthven has crossed over into the phase of his game where he is compelled to destroy each and every one of them. And I cannot do a thing about it."

"But he had a connection with you," she reminded me. "He called you sister."

"Where I was once his most desired object, he now reviles me for my betrayal. He will come for me as well. He drugged me. I did not antic.i.p.ate that. And I suspect he has been doing something to me for a while. I have not been feeling well. I can't sleep. I have the most awful dreams, and I feel . . . weak in a way I can't describe."

Serena's soft hand closed over my shoulder. "Your man will be here soon. He will have some ideas, and a plan. Oh, and the priest has come back, you know. He and Sebastian are anxious to speak with you, I am told."

"Did they learn something in Rome?" I inquired anxiously.

She shook her head. "I do not know. But I know your man wants you to leave the school. He told Sebastian, and I believe they are preparing to speak to you together on this."

"It is out of the question," I said quickly, then stopped to consider it. If I did not find a remedy for my recent malaise, there was not much point to my being there. "What do you think?"

"You cannot stay to fight the vampire if your powers are weak." She brought her cup of coffee to join me at the table. "I made Sebastian tell me the story of what happened, how you all met, what you did to save that little girl. You who have never been trained killed an ancient vampire. That is no small thing." Sliding a plate of sandwiches toward me, she gestured for me to take one. "There. You eat."

They looked like an a.s.sortment of traditional finger sandwiches, but when I nibbled one, my mouth was treated to an interesting and exotic spice. She smiled at my obvious pleasure.

I realized how hungry I was, and she laughed when I immediately took another. "Why do you take such good care of us?" I asked.

She had been smiling, but the expression faded. Then she shrugged and turned away. I felt as if I had unwittingly broached a forbidden topic.

It was not a full minute later that Valerian slammed open the door and swept into the cottage amidst a whirl of cold wind. He did not even remove his cloak or shake the mud from his boots before coming directly to me. "What the devil happened last night?" he demanded.

He made me repeat every word the vampire had spoken, made me describe in exhausting detail every thought I had, every sensation I felt. The intense interrogation was both irritating and endearing. I did not take offense as his peremptory manner. I knew it was out of concern. Had the situation been reversed, I would have been just as impatient.

"I want you to stay here with Serena," he announced when I was finished. "Or with me, in the village. You cannot go back to the school."

I prepared for an argument. "I have to go back. I will only eat and drink here, at Serena's cottage, or at the inn, to prevent being drugged again."

He shook his head. "It was not something you ate or drank. I daresay that had a deleterious effect on your ability to exert your will, but a drug would not dilute in any way the strength of your talents."

I stared at him. "Of course it did. I felt like I was reaching inside myself for something I knew to be strong and sure, only to find dust in my hands."

"I believe what you felt. I only tell you, it was not Margaret's sleeping drug."

"Then what?" I snapped, my nerves frayed by the frightening possibility of something else at work here that I did not understand.

"I believe I have a theory," he said soothingly, seeing my consternation. "It has to do with what I told you about the alchemist of Santorini."

My head snapped up in shock. "What? But how?"

"Consider that the alchemist's quest was-is-to restore the strigoii vii to humanness. A cure, in effect."