Night Runner (26 page)

When I looked up at him he must have noticed the change in my expression. That my rage was closer to the surface. Still, he didn't seem worried at all. Who would be? He had the sun as his ally. It was waiting to kill me, hidden behind a thin layer of glass.

“How much do you know about the Coven of the Dragon?” he asked me.

What did this have to do with anything?

“We don't have a lot of time,” he said. “Answer me.”

I shook my head. “Nothing, really.”

My uncle pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “They are an elite group of vampire hunters. They keep the pathogen from being spread recklessly by those who go insane. Baron Vrolok—Vlad—is the Grand Master of the Coven.” He stared at me for a few seconds. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. That this excused the Baron for killing my mother and father and squashing me into submission?

My uncle turned and walked back behind his desk. He was practically shaking with excitement. “Your father and I tried for years to penetrate this organization. It is cloaked in secrecy. We only knew that it existed. And could move with terrible swiftness. On more than one occasion, your father and I started a hunt only to discover that the Coven had finished it for us. Always very thoroughly.”

He stopped talking and opened one of the desk drawers. I expected him to remove something, but he didn't. He closed the drawer instead.

“And do you know how I made contact with them?” he asked.

He looked at me as though I was supposed to guess. Like I should have been as excited as he was. I barely had the energy to see across the room. Why should I care?

“I didn't,” he said. “He came to me. Vlad came to me. He came with an offer, and I have accepted it.”

He looked at me and started coughing. The coughing turned to hacking. He had a handkerchief in his pocket. He removed it and covered his mouth. When he pulled it away, I could see the crimson stain of his blood on the cloth. For just an instant, he looked like a wraith. Shrivelled and decayed. Then he straightened up and thumped his chest with the side of his fist. It helped him clear his throat.

“You're dying,” I told him.

He nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am. But I'm taking steps to ensure that my work will continue.”

Steps? What did that mean? I took my best guess.

“You want to become a vampire!” I said. “You want to enter the Coven of the Dragon. You want to work for
him
!”

M
y uncle shook his head. He was still fighting with the disease in his chest. For all his strength, I could see it would soon get the better of him.

“I will not be working
for
Vrolok, but
with
him. Together, we will be unstoppable. Perhaps you have heard this maxim:
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Well, the Baron and I have many of the same enemies. Those, as your father says, who refuse redemption.”

My hands were shaking. I almost dropped my father's journal. “But he's the worst—”

“No,” my uncle interrupted. “No, he isn't. In time, you'll see how depraved the worst ones get. You don't—”

“But he killed my father. And my mother. Your sister. Your very own sister!”

“Well, he shouldn't have,” Maximilian snapped. “Your headstrong father should have done a better job of protecting her. He failed, and we both paid for it. And taking off to Libya without me—it was foolish. Even so, he almost pulled it off. If you hadn't come along, Vrolok would have died.”

“That's not my fault,” I said, although I realized it probably was.

“Not your fault?” my uncle said. He snorted. Then he took another puff from his cigar. It seemed to calm him down a little. “No. Maybe not. But it
is
what happened. Vrolok survived. And yes, he did kill your father. And he killed my sister. But he was different then. Now he is back with the Coven. They would not accept him as a member if he wasn't mentally sound.”

I started shaking my head, but my uncle ignored me and kept talking.

“Nothing can bring your parents back, Zachary. I know this must be hard for you to understand. But my work must go on. Since your father's death, I have been searching in vain for a competent ally. As the Grand Master of the Coven, Vrolok has a network of informants greater than most governments'. The Coven's eyes are everywhere. Places your father and I couldn't possibly have gained a foothold. Iran, China, Russia . . .”

He pulled out his chair and sat down. His eyes never left mine, even when he puffed his cigar.

“You asked me back at the Nicholls Ward how I had found you. It was an accident. I was searching for a different vampire. Even now, Vrolok's informants are gathering information to aid my search. This one has proven to be extremely elusive.”

“Is it Mr. Entwistle?” I asked.

My uncle shook his head. “No. Entwistle is out of the picture now.”

I took a step forward. It wasn't an aggressive move—I was still wobbly—but Maximilian raised the detonator to remind me who was in charge. Still, I had to do something. The expression on my
uncle's face, it had changed slightly. Or maybe it was the tone of his voice. There was guilt in it. I could just tell.

“You killed him?” I said.

He paused, then nodded. “It wasn't intentional. I was trying to shut down an operation that provides blood to a number of dangerous vampires. Ones who have reached a point of mental decay that makes them unmanageable. Entwistle was trying to protect them. He has several houses in the city where he offers them refuge. You stayed in one yourself.” He paused to take a deep breath. “He wasn't the intended target. He was just unfortunate. When he showed up, there was nothing I could do. The die was cast.”

I watched my uncle's face as he spoke. He wasn't lying. Mr. Entwistle was really dead. All the hope just drained out of me.

“I don't understand why you would kill someone like him and help someone like the Baron. He's evil. Can't you feel it?”

My uncle butted the stub of his cigar in an ashtray. Then he folded his arms across his chest.

“You are wrong about the Baron. He's not as he once was. Despite his past crimes—and I know they are many—he is willing to redeem himself. To help control the spread of this pathogen. It is important work. More important than the life of any one man. Or any one vampire. You or your father, John Entwistle or anyone.”

“So you don't care that he killed my parents? My father . . .” I was clutching his journal so hard that my fingers began to press through the cover. I wanted to add that Vrolok had killed me too, that he had ruined my life, but I couldn't speak.

“I am not going to be consumed by thoughts of revenge, if that's what you mean. I have to weigh the lives of your parents against the lives of those I will save by killing other vampires. As a member of the Coven, I will be in a position to do immeasurable good. As will you. I've told the Baron about you. We both think you have extraordinary potential. Few vampires live past the first year of infection. Did you
know that? The fact that you have survived for eight years on your own is incredible. But it is not enough. You won't be accepted in the Coven unless you can prove that you can control yourself. And work with the Baron. And that means you must forgive him for what he's done.”

My uncle stood up. Then he pulled down the light behind his desk to activate the secret door in the wall.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“It's daytime, Zachary. You can feel that, can't you?”

I nodded. The sun was strong behind the blackened windows.

“This is the best time to hunt vampires. I am after one in particular. One that got away from your father many years ago. With the help of the Coven, that hunt will end today.”

“And what is going to happen to me?”

“That is the Baron's concern now,” my uncle said. “You may be my nephew, but that is less important than the fact that you're a vampire. As Grand Master of the Coven, it is the Baron who will decide your fate.”

“What does that mean?”

“The pathogen you carry causes insanity in most people who get infected. Given your recent behaviour, your mental state is being called into question. So the Baron is going to test you. I suggest you prepare yourself. He will be here shortly.”

He must have seen the look on my face when he said this, because he didn't head for the secret door. Instead, he walked over to where I was standing and put his hands on my shoulders.

“If I didn't have the utmost confidence in you, Zachary, I would never allow this.” His grip was firm. He looked straight into my eyes. Then he nodded and walked to the doorway.

Just before exiting he turned back to me and made a fist. I could see the muscles in his arm ball tightly inside his sleeve. “You are your father's son, Zachary. And we will be great hunters together, you and I. Keep your head and you'll do just fine.”

He looked me over once, then left. I heard the panel close behind him. And that was it.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I stumbled to the couch and eased myself onto the cushions.

I had been so hopeful after my uncle's first visit. A normal life seemed to be just around the corner. And now this. I put my head into my hands and felt my whole body shake. I couldn't make sense of anything. What was my uncle thinking? Was he bewitched? Charmed? If Dracula could make you do things you weren't supposed to do, why not the Baron? He was evil. How could Maximilian not see?

Endpoint Psychosis. The Baron was there. I wasn't. And still, my uncle trusted him to pass judgment on me.

Maybe that had nothing to do with it. Maximilian was dying. He was looking for a way out. And Vrolok was offering him just that. And more. Entry into an organization that would put him at the top of the food chain. A perfect place for an evolutionist, a man who believed in survival of the fittest.

I looked at the windows. The sun was still up. It would be for another hour. I couldn't leave. I couldn't stay. The parts of my body that weren't in pain were numb. I wanted desperately to talk to someone. To have Charlie cheer me up with a wisecrack, or to feel Luna's hand on my arm. I would have settled for a familiar face from the Nicholls Ward, even the Chicago Man, but I was totally alone.

It wasn't until that moment that I really understood what it meant to be an orphan. To know that there was no one alive in the world who had the power to save me. My father wasn't going to kick in the door. Mr. Entwistle was finished. My friends had no idea where I was. My uncle was right. There was only me. And I was a mess.

I had to get out somehow. Find a place to hide. I couldn't let Vrolok find me like this. I put my hand on the arm of the sofa and
pushed myself up as quickly as I could. Too quickly. I got dizzy. My vision started to go spotty and I tripped over the carpet. And so I was kneeling on the floor when the Baron came back into the room.

V
rolok moved into the office dragging two long black bags, one in either hand. Unlike my uncle, who made me think of a stone statue when he walked, solid and purposeful, Vrolok seemed to shift from one place to another without moving, as though the room just bent and allowed him to be wherever he wished. It was soundless, and the sight of it was nauseating.

I turned my attention to the bags he was carrying. They looked like the kind of thing the police would put a dead body in. I could tell by the way they were moving that people were struggling inside. The Baron pushed each to the floor and I heard two muffled cries. The people inside, their mouths must have been gagged. I recognized that sound right away. I'd heard it before. During the drive with my uncle, noises just like that had come from inside his trunk. He'd covered it up with a bunch of hooey about the police radio, and I'd fallen for it. But it wasn't the police radio I'd heard. It was these two.

The Baron looked down and saw me on my knees. “Ah, a true penitent.”

The words stabbed inside my mind. His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once so that you couldn't really tell where he was.

“Such faith is a rare thing in this age of skeptics. In a vampire, rarer still. Do they not call us soulless creatures?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Then I realized that he thought I was praying. I probably should have been.

“You do well to concern yourself with such things,” he said. “You will be meeting your God soon. I hope you will send Him my regards.”

The Baron started moving towards me. I tried to stand up, but my head was reeling and I fell over sideways.

“It is just as well, my son,” he said. “God cannot help you here.”

He reached down, grabbed the front of my shirt and hauled me off the floor. With his other hand he snatched my necklace, then he tore it over my head and let me drop.

“This was a gift to my wife . . .”

He paused and stared at the window. It was exactly where the sun would have been. His expression was vacant.

My wife
. . . The words echoed in my head almost too quietly to notice.

He saw me on the floor and seemed to remember where he was. When he spoke, the necklace dangled from his fist.

“Your father killed her. Then he stole this necklace and gave part of it to your mother. He had no right!” When he looked at me his eyes were black. His lips moved a little, revealing the long incisors underneath. I couldn't tell if he was smiling or snarling.

“I understand you have been talking to your uncle. A most useful man . . .” The Baron bent so that he was crouched down beside me. “But perhaps a little too trusting?” He reached out and brushed the side of my cheek. The touch of his skin made my insides squirm.
“You must forgive him for his weakness. Few men cope well with death. Only those of unwavering faith. Or those who have suffered much. He is neither. He seeks immortality. I have offered him this, in exchange for you.”