Read The Tale of the Vampire Bride Online

Authors: Rhiannon Frater

Tags: #classical vampire

The Tale of the Vampire Bride (40 page)

There were six vampire hunters and five ran after the vampire. I kept waiting for the creature to leap into the night sky and fly off, but instead she ran, barely keeping ahead of the hunters. The last hunter, the one with the fiery hair and the strange accent, knelt over his fallen comrade. He doused him with Holy Water and began to pray.

I fidgeted. Either I had to wait in the shadows and slip away when the hunter left or pursue the vampire to attempt to help her and risk exposure. I hesitated, then made my decision. Hiking up my skirts, I rushed into the street and ran after the vampire hunters.

As my cloak brushed past the vampire hunter kneeling at the fallen man’s side, he whirled about on his knees in surprise.

“Madam! Madam! Do not follow! You must not follow! It is dangerous! Let us take care of the situation,” he called out anxiously.

I ignored him, running faster. My soft shoes padded against the ground as I ran and my cloak fluttered behind me like great wings. I was not as quick as I would have been if I had fed, and my strength was diminished. Dredging up every ounce of my power, I forced myself to move faster.

The mad vampire fled in a wild, frenzied state of mind. Blindly she ran, falling over holes in the road, slamming into walls as she attempted to turn corners, and tripping over thin air. Her muddled mind obviously could not reason. It was inevitable that the five hunters behind her finally managed to outwit her. They forced her into a narrow alley that had no exit. Together, the five hunters advanced on her, blocking her escape, torches held high over their heads.

One hunter, an Eastern Orthodox priest, held a huge crucifix in his hands, and the flickering torchlight illuminated its golden beauty.

The vampire shrieked in rage and fear, her features distorted in the flickering light of the torches. My eyes burned at the sight of the cross and I tried not to look upon it as I drew back, merging with the shadows. I braced myself against a wall, my mind spinning out half formed plans of escape for both of us.

The priest began to chant as he advanced and the other men drew forward to encircle the vampire, forcing her back against the far wall. Tears tinged with blood were running down her cheeks, washing away the filth and revealing her luminescent flesh. She was beautiful and desolate. My heart broke for her and a sob caught in my throat.

“Do not gaze into her eyes,” a man with a heavy French accent ordered.

The priest’s chanting rose in pitch and fervor. I felt my flesh crawl at the sound. They were going to kill the vampire right before me and I could not bear it. The vampire was mad with the hunger, a condition I understood all too well. It was obvious to me that the vampire was confused and certainly not rational enough to defend herself or deliver herself unto safety.

A vampire hunter with pale blue eyes and blond hair knelt down and opened a case he was carrying. The torchlight glimmered off the fierce knife within.

”Franco, here,” he called out in quick, precise tones. He sounded Scandinavian. The hunter drew out a stake and handed it to a short, stout Spanish man that stepped to his side. “The duty is yours to perform.”

“I am honored, Svend,” Franco said reverently.

“The killing blow will be administered by Gilchrist,” Svend continued.

A lanky young man with black hair stepped forward nervously. “It is an honor.” I recognized his Gaelic accent immediately.

Svend lifted a mallet from the bag and presented it to the young man. “This is your first kill. You must be strong and strike down this demon of the pit.”

“I understand and will not flinch in my duty,” Gilchrist stammered, swallowing hard.

“I will finish what needs to be done,” Svend continued, and for himself, he took out an ugly knife with a long wicked blade.

The priest’s voice rose up as the hunters selected for the kill moved to the forefront of the pack.

“Prepare, Arminius, to deliver her soul from this world,” Svend said softly to the priest.

I could take no more.

“Murderers!” I leaped from the shadows before I realized what I was doing, my indignation spurring me to action.

The vampire hunters whirled about, startled expressions on their faces.

“Murdering bastards,” I raged, baring my teeth, which was probably not the brightest thing I have ever done.

“Another bride of the devil,” Svend shouted.

“Abraham, kill her,” Franco called out, not to his comrades but to someone behind me.

I heard footsteps and whirled about. The vampire hunter who had stayed behind was bearing down on me, a stake raised high above his head.

I was too shocked to react and recoiled in terror. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow suddenly break free from a patch of night and coalesce into the dark shape of a man. The hunter was almost upon me, his expression determined, the stake above him beginning to sweep downward.

“You would not dare,” I said imperiously to the hunter, preparing to slap the stake away.

Instead, my feet left the ground and the wind howled in my ears. Below me, the vampire hunter fell forward, carried by his momentum, the stake he meant for my heart clattering away on the road. I saw the upturned faces of the men below me, then I was dropped unceremoniously onto a peaked rooftop.

I immediately scrambled to my feet and whirled about. I found myself face to face with the most extraordinary man. Tall and slender, clad all in black, he stood before me as majestic and beautiful as the very night. It was as if a fragment of the night sky had broken free of the heavenly firmament, fell to earth and coalesced into this glorious being. Hair black and straight as raven feathers fell down around a face as pale and luminous as the moon. His long, narrow face was a fine combination of sharp angles and soft lines. Dark brows were drawn downward over piercing eyes the color of the midnight sky. Sensuous lips, full and seductive, were drawn into a tight line and it took me a long moment to realize that this mysterious vampire was quite furious with me.

“Exactly what, pray tell, were you doing down there?” he finally said in a soft, but strong voice.

I was taken aback with his tone, so I just stared at him in shock. I could not believe I was in the presence of another vampire!

“There were two more! I saw them,” the voice of the Spanish hunter drifted up to them.

“I saw only the woman,” Svend responded, his voice harsh with anger. “And she escaped!”

“There was a man! I swear it!”

“I saw only a blur of the shadows, Abraham, and then she was gone.”

The desperate voices of the vampire hunters rose into the night.

My rescuer raised an eyebrow. “Satisfied? You exposed us both.”

I opened my mouth to respond but could not think of what to say, so I clamped it shut and stomped my foot.

“Damn vampire hunters. Will they ever let us be?” He brushed past me and dared a glance downward.

I stood transfixed, staring at him, yet trying not to. This beautiful man with his long black hair stole my breath utterly away. He was the most magnificent man I had ever seen and I could only gape at him. There was a power flowing about him in great waves that shook me to the very core of my being. I was overwhelmed by his presence.

“It is the end for her, poor girl,” he whispered softly.

I moved to his side and raised my eyes to gaze upon his face. His skin was so pale and smooth that I had this rash desire touch him. The wind whipped his long, black hair about his face, but he took no notice. His gaze was concentrated on the drama below, his dark eyes full of frustration and pity.

A scream drew my attention downward and away from my savior.

The hunters were done discussing the other vampires they had seen and were once more concentrating on the poor creature cowering before them. Slowly, they advanced on the disheveled creature, crosses extended before them. The priest, Arminius, took up his chant again. The vampire screamed in horror and pain. She sank to her knees, her hands held out before her in a futile attempt to shield herself. The priest lunged forward to wave his cross threateningly at her as his voice rose in a rush of indecipherable words.

Groaning miserably, she clawed at the ground. The hunters had now closed within two feet of her and she darted at the weakest point of their line. A shriek of pain was torn from her throat and she fell back, her hands and arms scarred with blisters from the where the hunters had pressed their crosses against her skin.

“Bastards,” my companion muttered under his breath.

A vampire hunter moved forward and threw Holy Water into the vampire’s face. She cried out agony as her face began to melt away.

I grabbed hold of the male vampire’s arm with a trembling hand. His long smooth hand closed over mine. “Can we not help her?”

He looked down at me, shaking his head. “She is mad and we must not expose ourselves further. We must think of our own safety.”

Below, the vampire fell to the ground, quivering with pain and fear. We lost view of her as the hunters closed in tightly around her. I watched as the Gaelic hunter named Gilchrist moved closer to where the vampire huddled on the ground. Franco disappeared as he knelt down and my fingers dug into the fine silk of my companion’s coat.

Gilchrist lifted up his long arm and the mallet fell downward. A piercing, agonizing scream broke forth. Gilchrist lifted the mallet and brought it down one more time. There was no scream, just a soft whimper.

Svend, his pale face flushed with excitement, moved forward and I saw the blade streak downward.

“It is finished,” the male vampire whispered.

Svend raised the decapitated head of the vampire over his head in triumph, his fingers gripping her long matted tresses. The fresh blood drizzled from her severed head onto his pale blond hair, but he seemed to take no notice.

The hunters broke into cheers.

Chapter 22

The Journal of Lady Glynis Wright-Continued

I was so overcome, I could not even move. Tears flowed freely and my lips trembled with emotion. The vampire gently took hold of my arm and pulled me away from the ghastly view. His hands were smooth and comforting against my face as he wiped my tears away.

“There, there, do not cry,” he said soothingly.

His words only made me sob all the more. His gentleness reminded me of my own poor dead father.

“Was she your sister?”

I shook my head. “No, no. I had never seen her before tonight. I have only arrived in Buda. I saw her just before those…those…beastly men…they…how could they? How could they do that to her? How?” I fell against him, burying my face in his shoulder. I felt his arms go around me and he held me tightly against him.

“Do not be afraid. They cannot reach us here. We just need to be wise in our endeavors. They know about us now and will be searching for us,” he said softly against my hair.

I nodded dismally. It had been horrifying to see another vampire destroyed. It was as if I had witnessed my own death.

The gentleman vampire smoothed back my curls from my face, rocking me gently in his arms. “It shall be well once more,” he promised me.

The trembling of my body stilled as I felt an unexpected peaceful calm settling over me. Something wondrous began to happen. I felt a pleasant warmth spreading through me. It seemed to seep out of the very depths of my soul and flow through my veins. The fear and pain of the death I had witnessed fell away from my mind as all I could feel was the tender embrace of the vampire. The strong arms around me were so comforting, so wonderfully comforting.

Slowly, I became aware of the hard, lean muscles of the vampire’s body beneath his clothing as it pressed against me. Desire, bright and delicious began to blossom within me. His long silky hair fell over my brow and into my eyes. His warm breath caressed my face as gentle as any kiss. I luxuriated in his powerful embrace and wished it to never end.

“Who is your Master? I shall take you to your Master, if you wish it,” the man said, his voice breaking through my repose.

I started, nearly drawing away. I could not tell this vampire of Vlad or our home! Vlad would beat me without mercy if a male vampire returned to me to the safety of the mansion. I knew he would be venomously jealous. I just knew it with every fiber of my being. There was absolutely no way I could allow this vampire to endanger us both by returning me to Vlad.

“Your Master should know you might be in danger. You did a very foolish thing rushing after that girl in front of the hunters,” the vampire chided me.

My pride rose and, indignantly, I pulled away. Haughtily, I raised my chin. “I was protecting one of our own. You did nothing to save her, may I remind you.”

The vampire laughed. “You are a very arrogant young woman, are you not?” He was clearly amused by my outburst.

“You are a patronizing bastard,” I retorted.

“From weeping child to petulant child…interesting.”

I frowned at him. “I am never a weeping child. Perhaps petulant. But I was trying to help her! I was just not quite certain how to accomplish my task. And you did nothing to help me, so therefore, do not condescend to me and say that I am a rash woman, for I can assure you, I am not.” I stomped my foot for emphasis and his smile broadened.

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