The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (13 page)

Flay prompted Adele to follow Cesare. They all entered the doorway
from which the bloodmen had just carried the bones. The princess followed the vampire's light footfalls up stone steps into a chilled, dim
room that was empty except for a pile of straw in one corner. How
thoughtful, she mused grimly as she surveyed the chamber, to clean out
the remains of the previous residents.

Adele snapped, "I will need a fire if you want me to survive." Cesare turned quickly from the window, clearly surprised by a demand. Adele was
pleased by the reaction and asked sharply. "What do you want from me?"

"Ah, good," Cesare responded, interlacing his fingers in front of his
chest. "I want two things. First, tell me all you know about the Equatorian war plans. Second, tell me about your spies in Britain."

Adele laughed, partly in relief that he wanted information, not just
the joy of pain. "You know nothing about me, but I assure you I will tell
you nothing."

Cesare tilted his head and spoke quickly. "Princess Adele, you are
nineteen years old. You were born in Alexandria. Your mother, the
empress Pareesa, died when you were seven years of age during the birth
of your late brother, Simon, prince of Bengal. Your father is the emperor
Constantine, the second of that name and the third of his line. Both he
and your government are dismayed at the prospect that you, a mere
female, will inherit his throne. They fear that you are not capable of
ruling and that under your feeble hand the Empire's fragility will be
exposed and it will fly apart in a series of rebellions and secessions. To
prevent such a disaster, it has been arranged for you to marry the
Butcher of St. Louis, a"-Cesare's lips curled in disgust-"war hero from
the American Republic. This union between you and the renowned
murderer will place a man on the throne and create an alliance between
the Equatorian Empire and the American Republic. Thus joined by sacrificing your precious virtue to the bloody Clark, the two greatest
human states will start a war to destroy my people utterly. Please correct
me if I've made a mistake."

Adele laughed again. "I'm sorry, but watching a vampire talk politics is like putting a gown on an ape and calling it a duchess." But in
fact, the vampire had not made a mistake. While some of the information that Cesare had revealed was common knowledge, she was frightened nonetheless by the thought of this vampire being aware of her personal affairs. She was also increasingly disturbed by Cesare's humanness.
Provided his sharp fingernails were covered, the creature wouldn't
attract undue attention relaxing in an Alexandria cafe with coffee and a
newspaper.

Adele's face must have betrayed her uneasiness, because Cesare smiled, revealing sharp teeth. "Apes and duchesses aside, Princess, I am
well informed. I know that your heavily armed warships crowd the
towers of Port Said and Malta. And likewise, I am informed of a great
buildup of American forces in Cuba and the Yucatan. I am also aware
that your people have spies in my domain, scuttling about like bugs,
hiding in the woods. I have killed several myself-after they told me
everything they knew. But I want to know more. Centuries of struggling for survival have shown us the value of intelligence."

"Even mad dogs fight to survive. That doesn't imply intelligence."
Adele averted her eyes to the stone floor, to her own feet clad in the boots
scuffed in the sandy streets of faraway Alexandria. She couldn't bear to
watch the sardonic face of the creature who had butchered hundreds of
thousands. The young woman tried to control the shaking of her hands
and to steady her voice. Cesare's questions about spies seemed to indicate
that geotnancers might truly exist, or at least that vampires believed there
were human agents operating in the dead north.

Cesare's eyebrows inched up again, this time giving him a falsely sincere facade. "A human's opinion means nothing to me. In fact, human
opinion in general has meant nothing for more than a century. Tell me,
does it amaze your scholars that it took us less than five years to destroy
the greatest societies your kind had to offer, societies that had been constructed over many centuries? Five years! A fraction of a second to us. You
are nineteen. I am nearly three hundred years old. And I will live to be
over eight hundred. I participated in the Great Killing. What you know
only as distant history, I remember and savor."

The vampire's smile faded, and he took several clicking steps toward
Adele. "I disdain your weak, failed culture. Machines. Books. What good
are they? I use your names because it amuses me. I wear your clothes
because it amuses me. I speak twelve of your human languages because it
amuses me. How many do you yourself speak? One? Two? But I needed no
books to learn them. I don't need tools to master the world." Cesare was
only an inch or two taller than Adele and, again, he tilted his head with
derision when she defiantly matched his gaze. He held up his hand, and
razor-sharp nails extended slowly from his fingertips with a faint squishing
noise. "These are my tools." Cesare spread his clawed fingertips lightly over his icy face. "And these. From here, I can see a bird over the ocean. I can
smell blood spilling miles away. I can ride the wind and become a shadow.
I can hear your heart beating. I don't need technology. When we rose up,
we faced you humans and your machines. Your guns were not powerful
enough. Your ships and railroads were not fast enough. Your homes and
palaces were not strong enough. None of your creations could save you from
me. I killed all of you I laid my hands on, and I drank your blood. And I
will do it again when the time comes."

Adele remained quiet. She would say nothing more to this thing.
She had no reason to bandy words or debate. Silence would be her
weapon. If it killed her, so be it.

Cesare retracted his claws and said, "Tell me about the Equatorian
war plans."

Adele turned away from him, holding her breath, waiting for a blow
from behind.

Cesare said evenly, "Tell me about your spies."

She stepped to the window that Cesare had vacated. The sun was
sinking, and the city was succumbing to the same cold darkness that killed
it every night. She closed her eyes against the unbelievable thought of
spending her first night in this terrible place. First night. That implied that
there would be many. It was worse than the fear of death.

She heard Cesare's footsteps moving to the door, followed by hissing
words he spoke to Flay. And Adele could understand. The harsh sounds
made some sense to her. She didn't know how, but she had always been
good with language. Adele didn't recognize words concretely in the disgusting hissing, but she grasped the sense and the intent.

Cesare instructed Flay to bring the princess "roasted flesh," and
Adele knew that the term meant human flesh. It was Cesare's idea of a
joke, no doubt. It disgusted her enough that, gratefully, her formerly
ravenous appetite was destroyed. If they wanted to keep her alive, they
would eventually find bread or vegetables.

As Flay glided down the winding stone stairs, Cesare said to Adele,
this time in excellent Arabic, "I am giving you food. And I will arrange
for you to have fire. When we talk tomorrow, you will tell me what I
want to know and you will go home. This door will remain unlocked. I pray you abandon hopes of escape, if you hold any. There is no possibility. I notice that you wear a garish ring, no doubt given to you by
Senator Clark. I have not deprived you of it because it is yours and we
respect your peculiar human notions of property. But here in my
domain, even the brightest diamond is no different than a common
stone you may find on the ground. You can barter nothing with it. It has
no value to any vampire, nor, I can assure you, to the humans among us."

Adele continued to gaze out the window at the glistening river and
the dark shapes bobbing in it. Her mind cast back to her former world
in Alexandria, existing at the same time as this one: Simon climbing
trees in his garden, her seat in the library, warm spring days with the air
scented by lemon and lilac, warm sand and the endless drum and rush
of the surf.

Adele's hands touched cold stone, and her aching shoulders slumped
in despair.

"Do rest, Princess," Cesare said with mock kindness.

Adele straightened her back, but her quick recovery was evident.
She was angry for showing weakness in front of the thing. Still, she
refused to turn, and soon she heard the sound of his retreating footsteps.

Placing her back against the wall, she slid to the floor. The darkness
reduced her world to mere arm's reach. She was almost grateful; she
didn't want to see what was out there. It was nothing but evil. An evil
she despised.

Equatoria would not stand for this. A retaliatory strike was coming
as soon as the swift hand of retribution could gather itself. Adele knew
this without doubt. And no doubt the Americans would come for those
that dared kidnap the future wife of their most renowned vampire killer.
Surely Senator Clark was not the kind of man who would suffer such an
affront.

There was also Greyfriar and his uncanny ability to emerge from the
shadows to pluck her from the encroaching darkness. She missed his
stalwart presence, offering hope where there was none to be had. His
absence made the time before her seem like a great chasm.

Still, regardless of what actions were being set in motion, or were in
motion already, it meant little to Adele's life. Her fate was sealed. Cesare would never free her, and he would kill her as soon as the first human set
foot on the shores of England. That was a certainty. After all, she would
do the same with a captive of her sort.

Adele had no intention of sitting like a poor little princess and
waiting for that moment to arrive. Cesare and his kin would pay a terrible price. She would strike at the heart of the vampire court. Cesare
would no doubt come frequently within her reach. Perhaps if she played
it right, she might get close to the king, Dmitri. What a dream strike
that would be. Adele swore that she would take off the head of this foul
clan at this most important time in history. It would send their filthy
court into chaos and make them vulnerable to the war machine that
would soon roar up from the south.

Adele's heart lifted. Suddenly she wasn't afraid of the path looming
before her. Instead a rush of excitement and anticipation filled her, and
she welcomed the faint warmth it brought, pushing away the chill of
dreadful London.

Her hand went to her sash, which was sadly empty of her mother's
dagger.

She needed a weapon.

UST AFTER DAWN, USS Ranger descended on Marseilles at the
head of a flotilla of imperial cruisers. As soon as Ranger moored and
was drawn down, Senator Clark and his second in command, Major
Stoddard, disembarked to be met by a clutch of Marseilles city fathers.
Clark shook hands hastily, concentrating enough to commit everyone's
name to his formidable memory. He then directed a hard squint at a
ramrod-straight figure in the torn remnants of an Equatorian uniform.

The man introduced himself in a clipped Gurkha accent. "Colonel
Anhalt, Senator."

"Anhalt?" Clark towered over the small but sturdy officer who was
bandaged and in apparent pain. "Anhalt? You commanded my fiancee's
household guard." It was an accusation.

"I did, and do, sir."

"Then how is it you are still alive?"

Anhalt didn't lower his gaze, but the question clearly wounded him.
"Would that I weren't."

"No doubt." Clark turned his back on Anhalt and moved on. The
city fathers fell in naturally around him. The colonel limped behind.

Major Stoddard saluted the wounded Anhalt. "Colonel. My name is
Stoddard. I am the Senator's adjutant." The young American officer was tall, willowy-thin, and dark; he had grown up around New Orleans on
the vampire frontier.

Anhalt nodded curtly, still stinging from Clark's rebuke, but
returned the salute and then extended his hand with quiet gratitude.
"At your service, Major."