Part 28 (1/2)

XI.

Following his trail, Genevieve hunted the huntsman.

This had nothing to do with Tybalt.

This hunt was hers.

She imagined the mare's horn gouging against Magnus' ribs, sinking deep into his belly, pulling out his intestines.

And she remembered the cold madness of the Graf Rudiger von Unheimlich.

At this moment, there was no more dangerous beast in the forests than a she-vampire.

Always, she had kept herself apart from the Truly Dead, those vampires who preyed on the living for pleasure. She had listened to them enthuse about their sport and felt superior to the grave-grown things with their foul breath and red eyes, faces set in beast's snarls, clinging to their coffins and catacombs by day, gliding on the winds by night in search of juicy necks, relis.h.i.+ng the fear they cast about them like a shroud.

She remembered those she had known: the Tsarina Kattarin, b.l.o.o.d.y tyrant who reigned for centuries, exultant with the blood of her subjects flowing over her body; Wietzak of the World's Edge, a mouthful of teeth like razor-edged pebbles, chewing the flesh of a peasant child; even her father-in-darkness, Chandagnac, dandyish as he dabbed the gore from his lips with a lace handkerchief, old and alone behind his handsome face and manners.

For the first time in nearly seven hundred years, Genevieve Dieudonne understood the righteousness of the red thirst.

She regretted those she had spared: Tybalt, Balthus, Anulka, Otho. She should have gutted them, and drunk the blood fresh from their bellies. She should have drunk an ocean from them.

Rudiger was travelling fast, keeping ahead of her.

She knocked young trees out of her way, enjoying the crack of breaking wood. Birds flew from their falling nests, and small animals scurried out of her way.

'Halt,' a voice said, piercing her red rage, and striking her at the heart.

She stood still, and found herself in a small clearing.

Barely half a dozen yards away, the Graf Rudiger stood, warbow raised, arrow ready.

'Silver head, wooden shaft,' he explained. 'In an instant, it would be through your heart.'

Genevieve relaxed, stretching out her arms, opening her empty hands.

'Normally, I'd tell you to throw down your weapons, but I can hardly expect you to pluck out your teeth and nails.'

Her red rage flared, and she saw Rudiger's face coloured by a b.l.o.o.d.y film. She fought to control herself, to let the killing thirst die.

'That's right,' Rudiger said. 'Get a leash on your temper.'

He gestured with his arrowhead, and Genevieve sank to a crouch. She crossed her legs under her, hands tucked under her bottom.

'That's better.'

Her teeth slipped back, shrinking.

'Tell me, vampire, how much has that grey book-keeper put on my head? How many of his precious crowns will he part with to get his way?'

Genevieve kept quiet.

'Oh yes, I know all about your mission here. Balthus has the soul of a dog, and the loyalties too. I've known from the beginning. Tybalt doesn't understand that there's more to a man than a price.'

Calm in triumph, Rudiger reminded Genevieve of Mornan Tybalt, eyes glittering as a scheme was fulfilled.

'I'd kill him if it would do any good. But once Balthus gives testimony, there wouldn't be any point. The jumped-up clerk's son will be back where he belongs, toiling in some tiny office, struggling for every sc.r.a.p of food, for every tarnished pfennig.'

Could she get to him before his shot her?

'You're better than that, vampire. Tybalt must hold you to some crime to make you his tool.'

Behind Rudiger, in the woods, something large was moving. Genevieve could sense her, could feel her excitement.

'Let's make a truce?'

Rudiger relaxed, and let his arrow slide loose.

Genevieve nodded, needing the time.

'See,' Rudiger said, holding the bow in one hand and the arrow separately. 'No harm.'

He came to her, but not within her arm's reach.

'You're pretty, Genevieve,' he said. 'You remind me'

He extended his arm, and his fingertips touched her cheek. She could grab his arm, maybe tear it off 'No, you're an original,' he said, taking his hand away. 'You're a huntress, like the mare. You'd be good with me. After the hunt, there are other pleasures, rewards'

She felt his l.u.s.t curling out at her. Good. It might blind him.

'Strange to think you're so old. You look so green, so fresh'