The Ruby Blade Page 10

  “Mehmed, in an attempt to curry favor with Radu, decided to offer him the lives of his brothers. I am not sure why he thought this would work, as there was no love lost, especially between Radu and Vlad, but Mehmed had Vlad released from prison. Mircea had been blinded by pokers and placed in an oubliette-like structure in 1447 and kept there ever since. Twenty years in a hole in a ground. How he didn’t die from disease or despair or anything else is a mystery. That family was already odd before Mehmed turned them all into vampires.

  “Radu ruled a short time, less than ten years, and hated it. He faked his own death and went into hiding. No one has seen him since. Mircea, whom everyone already believed dead, spent time healing and learning everything he could from me. He is a most excellent grandchild, and one I am most grateful to have, the circumstances notwithstanding. We traveled together for centuries as he built up his body of knowledge and further developed his power. He has many of my talents but to a lesser degree. The one thing that he does have that I do not is amazing regenerative power. We all heal quickly, but he heals instantly. I believe this was something he brought from life, not something given at death, since he survived in a hole with no eyes and now has perfect eyesight.”

  “And what about Vlad?”

  “Ah yes, Dracula the Prince of Darkness. After he was released from prison and transformed by Mehmed, he became even crueler, but he had one soft spot. He fell in love and married. Ilona was the cousin of the king who’d imprisoned him, but when his release was secured, they married. She bore two sons, although they couldn’t have been his, as we cannot create life. I do not know if her children were conceived with Vlad’s knowledge or not, but he loved her to distraction and she overlooked his little…quirks.

  “Vlad decided to retake the throne—this was maybe five years after Radu’s “death,”—and set out to do so. He was briefly successful, but lost it soon after and was cut down in battle. Of course, that didn’t work out so well, but since his body had been sealed in a coffin and transported to Constantinople as a trophy, he was prevented from disputing the territory and his death was recorded as fact.”

  “So, you have three grandchildren from Mehmed, two of whom are a little batty, and one of who is the current Commander of the US Armed Forces?”

  “That sums it up.”

  “And my betrayal?”

  “More wine?”

  I held out my glass and Raj topped it off.

  “It all comes back to Vlad and the prophecy.”

  “Question. When we first met, and you tried to have me kidnapped to control, and I believe I quote, ‘the well-spring of magic’ so that I wouldn’t open the gates because you’d closed them and the Fae were evil vamp killers, how much of that was true?”

  “I did try to have you kidnapped because you were the well-spring, the catalyst, the world breaker and I wanted to control you.”

  “But not to stop me from opening the gates?”

  “Not necessarily. The Fae killed any vampires they came across, but we did the same. Vampires helped close the gates initially, but I wasn’t there personally.”

  “So, it was mostly true?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Okay, continue, please.”

  “Mehmed kept Vlad for a while. He drove a specially made silver spear through Vlad close enough to the heart that he couldn’t move without sending the sharpened edges through his heart and killing himself. He left it in a private courtyard where it got full sun every day. Every place there was a tiny crack in the coffin, Vlad would burn. After a few years, it became necessary for Mehmed to either step down or let his secret be known. He was nearing fifty and although he was trying to fake aging, he still looked too young. People talked, and everyone believed in demons at that time. Couple that with the fact that few saw him during the day anymore, and it was time to move on. Mircea and I spent a great deal of time at court. Mehmed and Mircea never were close. Mehmed blamed him for Radu somehow, and Mircea blamed Mehmed for the whole oubliette and eye removal thing, which made a lot more sense. Mircea also wanted Vlad released, and petitioned almost daily for that to happen.

  “Finally, a couple weeks before the day that Mehmed had set to abdicate, he released Vlad into Mircea’s custody. That night, Mircea opened the coffin and removed the silver spear. Vlad rose, healing instantly like his brother, grabbed the spear which he used to impale Mehmed who was watching from a balcony and set the entire palace on fire. I grabbed Mircea and flew him to safety.

  “We watched the palace burn and my first child with it. We thought Vlad had killed himself, too, as the newly pyrokinetic vampires often do, but his extraordinary regenerative powers allowed him to survive the conflagration and a few months later, a slightly saner Vlad sought us out. He wanted to learn from me as Mircea had done, and had genuine fondness for his older brother. The three of us traveled together for a while as I attempted to teach Vlad everything I could. He was, unfortunately, insane. I do not know if he’d always been insane or if his time imprisoned by the Ottomans as a child drove him insane, but the repeated imprisonments as a human and then later as a vampire did not help his state of mind. However, he worked very, very hard to become socially acceptable. Now that it’s five hundred or so years later, I would diagnose him as a high-functioning sociopath, although more Moriarty than Holmes.”

  I was starting to fall asleep. I could feel it. The combination of the wine and the fire and Raj’s amazing voice had me nodding off. I was fighting it, because I wanted to—needed to—hear the end of the story.

  I felt Raj slip his arms around me. “It’s late. We can finish tomorrow evening and I’ll have you home by midnight. Would you do me the honor of sleeping in my home tonight?”

  I nodded and yawned. I fell asleep in Raj’s arms as he carried me to bed.

  Chapter Seven

  I DREAMED AGAIN. This time, I was standing on a pile of rocks that I was guessing was the site of my next gate, although they didn’t seem that mystical to me at the moment. I looked around for Finn, positive that he was going to make an appearance. I didn’t have to wait long. He appeared over the horizon, looking more haggard than I’d ever seen him. His face was worn and lined, and the bags under his eyes wouldn’t fit in the overhead compartment. He walked slowly across the rocky landscape, tripping often. Finally, he arrived at a place that was worn smooth. Based on the power pulsing from that location, I surmised that’s where the gate would open. One nice thing about these dreams is that they were making scouting trips completely unnecessary.

  I watched as Finn knelt down and began to draw in the circle. He stayed that way for what felt like hours, and when he finally rose to his feet, he stood stiffly and unmoving for a few moments before pressing his palm to the ground. I rushed forward to see what was happening. I saw runes carved into the bare rock. They flashed brightly once before fading from sight. I could feel the magic still pulsing from the area, but now the purity of the gate magic was overlaid with something dark and malevolent and hungry. It reached for me, and Finn whipped around, pulling his sword from its invisible scabbard. He didn’t see me, but waved the sword around experimentally in my general direction, and I understood then that his dark magic was tuned to me.

  I turned to leave so I could wake and write down the runes I’d seen before they’d flared and become part of the earth before I forgot them and their placement. I had a very good memory, but I knew nothing of rune-craft, and that always made it harder.

  I pinched myself awake. I was in a gorgeous bedroom, and there was a fire merrily burning low in the fireplace. The sheets were smooth flannel, and I was under what felt like a dozen down comforters. I sat up and discovered that I was naked. “Dammit, Raj,” I said. My weapons were on the bedside stand next to a little bell, a silver pitcher, and a glass. I had a glass of water and began to look around for paper and a writing utensil. When I was unable to find anything to write with, I started looking for my clothes. They were missing, too. I opened the door to the hallway then shut it a
gain immediately. It was chilly out there. I guess Raj didn’t want me wandering the house without him.

  I hopped back into the warm bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and rang the little fucking bell.

  A few minutes later, Salem opened my door.

  “What do you want?”

  “Clothes, paper, a pen, and pancakes.”

  She turned and slammed the door shut. Her dedication to the serving craft was remarkable. She could be the inspiration for a BBC remake of Upstairs, Downstairs. It would be called Upstairs, Gothstairs. Or something more clever. I wasn’t good at naming BBC shows.

  She returned a few minutes later with a notebook and a couple pens.

  “Jeffries will bring you breakfast soon,” she said before storming out again. No clothes. Oh well, at least I could write down what I needed to.

  There had been about a dozen runes in the circle, and I thought I remembered most of them. I drew a circle, copied what I could, futzed with them a bit, then laid down the notebook. My stomach was growling by the time Jeffries appeared with a tray. He set it down on the small table in my room and bowed himself out. I wrapped a blanket around myself and poured myself a cup of coffee before lifting the top off the tray. Pancakes and bacon. Perfect.

  I’d polished off the last of the food and poured out the final drop of coffee before Raj opened the door. He was holding a bundle of what looked like my clothing. “Didn’t want me wandering your penthouse alone?”

  “I was afraid you’d kill Salem.”

  “If that’s what you were afraid of, you wouldn’t have had her wait on me.”

  He handed me my clothes, smiled, and left the room. I wondered what he was hiding. I was willing to bet decent money that it had something to do with this story. I didn’t think he’d brought me to New York just to show me the skyline. There was something else here.

  I dressed, found a bathroom that was fully stocked with everything a house guest would need, and then made my way back to the living room we’d been in the night before. The fire was built up and, there was another bottle of what I was guessing was very old wine sitting on a small table next to a cheese and charcuterie tray. I might be craving a run to the border, but I couldn’t complain too much about the food I’d been getting lately.

  “I certainly hope not,” Raj said. “This certainly costs more than a Taco Bell run.”

  “Before you continue, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said. “I had another dream.”

  “I thought you had, but couldn’t get anything more than that,” Raj said.

  I took a second to marvel that it didn’t even freak me out anymore that Raj was constantly reading my mind. “It was about the next gate, the one at Ringing Rocks. Finn carved a magic circle in the ground under the gate using twelve runes, then did something to them and they poofed into invisibility. The spell is directed at me because it reached towards me even when I was only there virtually, or ethereally, or whatever you call it when I’m dream visiting.”

  “What runes?” Raj asked. “Not that this is an area of expertise for me.”

  I handed him the notebook. Raj studied the runes for a moment before shaking his head and handing my notes back to me. “They’re from the Elder Futhark, but that’s about all I can tell you. I recognize a few of them, but wouldn’t know how to interpret them in this order.”

  “I hope Florence does because I don’t think it’s a spell to guarantee free lattes for life.”

  “I’ll ask Jeffries, too. He may know.”

  I felt the surprise register on my face. The butler?

  “You think I hired him from the Butlers R Us catalog?” Raj asked. “Everyone in my family brings a special skill. Jeffries’s knowledge of the arcane arts is amazing, even if he, himself, is not a practitioner. He’s been studying everything he can for the past century.”

  “I thought he was human!” I gasped.

  “And so he is. You know those who serve vampire masters are often gifted with long life. Surely you’ve read the lore.”

  “Vampire master?” I rolled my eyes.

  Raj laughed. “Those closest to me occasionally partake of my blood, which heals and regenerates their cells, keeping them youthful. This way they can extend their natural lifespans for as long as they’d like. Many choose to do so with the hope that they will eventually be turned into vampires. Some do it to provide for their human families as long as they can. Some want the perks of vampirism—increased lifespan, strength, and speed, without the downsides: no more beach parties and the threshold restrictions. Jeffries just wanted knowledge. And he’s a very, very good butler.”

  I nodded. I’d known Salem had been around a lot longer than the twenty or so years that she appeared, but had forgotten. “Are you going to ring the bell again? I know you must not need to.”

  Raj laughed and rang the bell. Jeffries appeared almost immediately, and I’d be willing to bet the cheese plate against the fact that he’d already been on his way when Raj rang. I handed over my notes. Before I could give any backstory or make a request, Jeffries paled and dropped the page. He looked wildly between Raj and me and backed slowly towards the door.

  “Jeffries,” Raj said in a very soothing voice. “I need you to be sure. Can you check your books and then come back with an exact interpretation? If you have an idea on how to counter it, that would be useful. We will not be able to avoid this dark magic, so any information you can provide will help us—help Eleanor—to survive.”

  Jeffries picked up the piece of paper by the corner as if it was covered in shit, and backed out of the room.

  “That can’t be good,” I said.

  “You were right; it’s not a perpetual coffee spell.”

  “What was it?”

  “Let’s wait for Jeffries to confirm his initial suspicions. In the meantime, we can get to the thrilling conclusion of my story.” He poured the wine, settled back into the love-seat, and said in his best Alistair Cooke, “When last we left our hero, he was teaching the Prince of Darkness how not to be a serial killer.”

  I laughed and then said, “Raj, I feel like you’ve been stretching this out to avoid the point.”

  “I needed you to understand everything that led to the next point. I needed you to know.” He took a fortifying sip of wine.

  “After a time, Mircea decided to go out on his own. I don’t remember precisely what year that was, but it was during the Industrial Revolution. He tried to persuade Vlad to come with him, but Vlad decided to stay with me. Something about me stabilized him, I think; allowed him to be a vampire, but also to retain enough vestiges of himself to not be a monster. We became close. I knew his flaws, but I loved him like a son. He took to wandering, sometimes disappearing for weeks and months at a time, but he always came home. We were living in Scotland at the time. Lovely place, very gray. One day, he came to me, excited beyond anything I’d ever seen. He’d found her, he said. He repeated it over and over. “I’ve found her.”

  “When I was finally able to get him to make sense, I realized that he believed he’d found Ilona, his wife. I had my doubts since it had been at least three hundred years since he’d last seen her and he hadn’t mentioned ever making her a vampire. When I questioned him closely, he said he hadn’t turned her, but that somehow, she’d lived all this time. He wanted me to turn her, as he was well aware that if he did it, there would be no chance of a romantic relationship between them. I agreed to go with him to investigate, but cautioned him against false hope. I reminded him of the length of time that had passed, of the chance of two vampires having a happy relationship that didn’t end in tragedy even if things worked out, and the possibility that she might not want to be a vampire even if it was her.

  “He dismissed my claims, and I went with him to the New World. It was very, very new. The United States had just won their war for independence, and most of the continent was unspoiled by westerners. Vlad brought me to a small settlement in Massachusetts and introduced me to Helen Bathory. She did
bear an uncanny resemblance to Ilona, and based on her name was probably a relative through Ilona’s mother’s side. But she was very young and very human. Vlad wouldn’t listen to reason; he was obsessed. He attempted to woo her and was rejected. She was scared of him, which was not surprising. He’s a scary man; too intense, too pale, and always with a hint of violence about him.

  “I counseled him to forget her, to leave and come back with me to Scotland. He sulked, and unfortunately, he was not as productive a sulker as Mehmed had been. He agreed to leave her alone, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I decided to explore this new country before returning to my home and headed first to New York. I loved it, so I bought a house, had a basement dug, and let Vlad know where I was. A few nights later he showed up, nearly hysterical. He’d decided to take what he wanted, deciding she would grow to love him in time, that he could unlock her memories. She’d fought him, and he’d killed her. It was clearly an accident, but one that could’ve been avoided if he hadn’t been an impulsive sociopath. He’d brought her body with him, and wanted me to fix her. I could not, of course, as there was no life in her. So, he took her to New Orleans.”

  “Ah, now we’re getting to it,” I said. I leaned forward, refilled my wine glass, and gestured for him to continue.

  “I followed him of course, and that’s when I met Marie Laveau.”

  I racked my brain, the name sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t attach anything significant to it.