The Dark Arts of Blood (35 page)

“When did this happen?” Charlotte held both his hands, as if trying to keep a dying human conscious. Trying to keep him with her.

“Ah… let me think. Reiniger is about forty, so it would be in the late eighteen-nineties. That’s as I remember. The time fits. He’d even got the style of clothing correct.”

“So he lost his father at the age of ten?” said Charlotte. “And he remembered your face. Even tracked you down to the extent that he discovered your name? That can’t have been easy.”

“Not impossible. Perhaps I was too careless in neglecting to create false identities.”

“He filled a book with drawings, and made a film,” she said. “That sounds a touch obsessive.”

Karl sat forward, pushed one hand through his hair. His face lost its faraway look and he grimaced. “Not really. I would say it was natural. Godric waited thirty years to come face to face with his father’s murderer.”

“Does he want revenge?”

“To be honest, I don’t know what he wants.”

“Did he attack you?”

“No. And before you ask, I left him alive. Perhaps that was a mistake, but in cold blood, I couldn’t harm him. He has… he claims to have a number of the
Istilqa
knives, but it was the force of his personality that held me, more than any weapon. I felt paralysed. I cannot express how horrific it was to see my own actions played out on a screen.”

He rose and went to the window, stared out at the lake. Charlotte followed and stood beside him. She said, “I can only imagine. Karl, you’re in shock. I won’t try to soothe you out of it.”

“Thank you.”

“But what happened when the movie was over?”

“Nothing. I left. Before that, I felt pinned there – forced to stay and see what he was so desperate to show me. He’s a peculiarly compelling man. In effect he was warning me, ‘I know exactly who you are, and what you did will never be forgotten. Everything you do, the reverberations go on forever.’ What could I do or say in response? Nothing. I am not sorry and I do not feel guilty. Sad, but not guilty.”

She put her hand through his arm. “It’s unusual for our victims to come after us, but it must happen occasionally.”

“Perhaps one day they will all catch up with us.”

Karl opened a door and stepped out on to the veranda. Charlotte went with him. The night air blowing across the lake was very cold now. Nothing to a vampire, but she felt a brief shiver. Karl put his arm around her. After a while she said, “I have a confession too.”

“Dr Ochsner?”

“How did you know?” She was startled that he’d guessed, but not astonished.

“Not difficult. I know you were furious about the way he treated Amy.”

“Other patients, too. Practically torturing them to punish them for their normal human biology, like some sadistic inquisitor – and that’s part of Reiniger’s belief system, isn’t it? He wants to enforce purity and control over the population, starting with his own friends and family? I know I said I hate killing, but – oh Karl, if anyone deserved it, Ochsner did. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but… go on, lecture me if you must.”

“No lecture. I had a feeling you’d hunt him down. And after what I’ve done in the past, I’m in no position to criticise your actions,
liebling
.”

“The good and the evil, Karl: I accepted it all when I came with you.”

“And with such grace.”

He went quiet. She’d rarely seen Karl so disturbed. Along with a glacial sense of dread, she felt pure hatred for the man who had managed to crawl under his skin like this.

She had to break the silence.

“Is Godric aware that he already has a vampire working for him?”

At that, Karl’s gaze met hers, now sharply focused. “What do you mean?”

“This woman Emil is seeing, Fadiya – she’s a vampire. I’ve just told Violette, who welcomed the news with all the rapture you’d expect.”

She described her trip to Paris, adding, “Fadiya appears to be part of Reiniger’s wider circle. Amy said she works as his make-up artist. She’s been there only a few weeks.”

“He said nothing of any other vampire. I sensed no one…”

“Did he explain anything about the knives?”

“Almost nothing. He told me only what suited him, kept the rest secret.”

“I need to ask Stefan about Fadiya,” Charlotte said. “I think we should tell him and Violette everything.”

“Don’t expect too much,” Karl said with a grim smile. “Stefan tends to flee at the merest hint of danger.”

“Not this time. I won’t let him.”

“Well, let us see if he finds his courage, because we are going to need every friend we have.” Karl kissed her temple, rested his cheek on her hair. “Love, I’m so sorry to distress you with this.”

“Don’t you dare apologise. Heaven or hell, we share it all.” She turned her head to study his expression, wishing she could read him as easily as he read her. “You’re not afraid of Godric Reiniger, are you?”

“Not as such. He’s human, after all. But as you’ve pointed out, certain humans have power over us. The massed energy of their dreams and nightmares brought us into being, so how could they not? Godric seems to know more than any human should. He wants to change the world. And he might manage it, by subterfuge or propaganda.”

“Do you think he’s truly dangerous?”

“If he only made bad films, I’d be less concerned,” said Karl. “But there’s something very dark going on inside him.”

Charlotte thought of the Crystal Ring’s storms and apparitions. She pictured her lamia, haunting her even as she took Ochsner’s life. Reiniger’s crew, savagely beating Emil.

“Remember how we feared Violette-as-Lilith biting us, because we knew her bite would change us?” she said. “But when it finally happened… when we surrendered, there was nothing to fear after all. The change brought self-acceptance, not loss of love.”

“I know, but this isn’t the same. I didn’t lose my conscience entirely: I would have turned into Kristian or Sebastian, had that been the case. I don’t feel guilty.
Disturbed
is a better word. Are you asking why I’m so troubled by this?”

“Why we’re
both
troubled. Perhaps even Lilith’s power isn’t enough to shield us.”

“Not if some fresh demon can force its claws beneath our armour,” he said softly. “One thing I know for certain: Godric Reiniger is a far greater danger than the threat he poses to Emil or to me. The last thing I want is to see him again, ever, but I shall have to. It’s time we dragged him out of his lair and into the light.”

“You spoke of our misdeeds catching up with us. Is that what’s happening?”

No answer. Karl went quiet again, staring at the lake. He held Charlotte’s hand folded against his chest, his grip tightening until it hurt.

* * *

“So this vengeful adversary waited thirty years to
show you a film
? Terrifying!”

“I’m glad you find this amusing, Stefan,” said Karl. “I expected no less.”

The twins had been out to hunt, returning rosy and bright-eyed from feeding. As Karl and Charlotte explained, as briefly as they could, what they had already told each other, Stefan went around lighting oil lamps. He trimmed the wicks, then sat on the arm of the couch to listen to the rest of their story. The room brightened from dim red to golden.

“Godric sounds delightfully eccentric,” said Stefan. “I’m growing more intrigued by the moment. Aren’t you, Niklas?” He stroked his silent
doppelgänger’s
cheek.

“Eccentric is an understatement.”

“Karl, you have a faraway look in your eyes. Might you be caught in the snare that you’re always warning Charlotte to avoid? Becoming entranced by a human?”

Karl gave a soft laugh, no more than a breath.

“Not in the sense that I’m yearning for a romantic relationship with him.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Charlotte said with a smile.

“Not even in the sense that I crave his blood – it smells so contaminated that I couldn’t touch him. He’s intriguing mainly because he unnerves me. I killed his father, ruined a child’s life or at least changed its course… and he wants revenge, naturally, but of what kind?”

“So you finally admit that you need my help.” Stefan rubbed his palms together. “Did I not suggest the simple ruse of inviting him to a party? You sneered!”

“I didn’t sneer. I just don’t believe he’s the type to attend a social event unless there is something in it for him.”

“Is he good-looking?” Stefan grinned.

“What has that to do with anything?” said Karl, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not as fussy as you. I might be able to prise out his secrets.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you to try,” said Charlotte. “But what about Fadiya?”

“She’ll have to wait her turn, but yes, I’ll happily seduce her too. She sounds irresistible.”

“That is not what I meant.” She struggled not to smile. It would only encourage him.

“Very well,” said Stefan. “She sounds lovely, but no, I have no idea who she is. So let’s invite her too, by all means. But can’t you just warn Emil about her? If Emil was seeing
me
, I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

“Of course we can’t warn him!” Charlotte retorted. “He mustn’t find out what she is, or what
we
are, for that matter. We need to make Fadiya vanish before Emil comes to any harm.”

Stefan gave her his charming white smile, eyes shining. She loved his good nature, but sometimes his frivolous attitude made her want to throttle him. “What are you grinning about?” she said.

“The prospect of planning this party. Our housewarming. Has it not occurred to you that it might be fun? Humans become drunk on cocktails, cocaine, vampire glamour, and vampires become intoxicated on humans. I’ll invite everyone: Godric Reiniger and his crew, and a few dozen guests to make up a splendid crowd. The sinister Godric and Fadiya will simply add spice!”

“Reiniger won’t come,” said Karl.

Stefan gave a slight frown. “Not even if
you
ask him?”

Karl laughed. “After our confrontation? He’d think it completely bizarre.”

“I know how to make sure he turns up.” Charlotte spoke softly, hesitant with a sense of foreboding. She was still uncertain of Violette’s cooperation. “If it were presented as Madame Lenoir’s party – if
she
issued the invitations – they’ll all be too star-struck to dream of refusing. If it means a chance of cornering Fadiya, Violette just
might
agree.”

“Perfect.” Stefan gave his irresistible, wicked grin. “You read my mind, Charlotte. Wine will flow, tongues will loosen. The lengths I go to, to make you two smile again!”

* * *

Emil stood in the grand hallway of Godric Reiniger’s house, Bergwerkstatt, gazing up at the high white walls and sweeping stairs. The place was like some dictator’s palace, as if Reiniger fancied himself a Roman emperor. Fadiya’s hand clasped his arm. He wondered how on Earth he’d let her persuade him to come here.

This was not where he belonged. He felt powerfully that he should be in the ballet studio, rehearsing, yet he couldn’t seem to move. Fadiya had woven this honeyed spell over him.

“Here he is,” she said.

Godric Reiniger came strutting down the stairs with a couple of other men. Emil recognised Reiniger from the occasion he had pestered Violette in the street, and from the ghastly night at the
Bierkeller
. The freckle-faced man with short red hair on his left was the one who’d spoken passionately about Swiss nationalism, until they’d fallen into an argument about Mussolini. His name… Wolfgang Notz?

The other man was one of the ruffians who’d attacked Emil in the alley. Name unknown. He was short but wiry. Emil thought,
How in hell did I let such a weasel get the better of me?

“Ah,” said Reiniger, all friendly good cheer. “The celebrated Emil Fiorani! Delighted, privileged to meet you, sir! May I introduce two of my key assistants, Wolfgang and Walti?”

“We’ve met,” Emil said under his breath, but Reiniger seemed not to hear.

“I believe I shall have the honour of filming you in rehearsal and performance of Madame Lenoir’s ballets quite soon.”

Emil stared at him in disbelief, thinking,
No, she turned him down. Has something changed?

“Isn’t he magnificent, Godric?” said Fadiya, eyes shining as if she’d brought home a prince. “Wouldn’t you like to try him out in front of the camera?”

Wolfgang cleared his throat. He looked displeased, but said nothing.

“If he’s willing,” said Reiniger. “He looks as if he’d make a splendid leading man indeed. May we offer you a drink, sir, or will you come straight through to the studio? A little screen test – it will not take long.”

Emil stared back, taking a long breath. Eventually he managed to speak. “Are you all mad?”

“I beg your pardon?” Reiniger took off his spectacles, rubbed them on a cloth, replaced them. He looked at Fadiya, and back at Emil.

“You.” He pointed at Wolfgang Notz. “You were in the
Bierkeller
, preaching the same nonsense that inflicted Mussolini on Italy. When I objected, I was physically attacked. Herr Reiniger was there, watching. Filming. I saw you!”

Reiniger’s eyes went cold. “I assure you, we are no supporters of Mussolini. He’s inspirational – in that he understands the power of art to spread his message – but he’s flawed. I don’t see what that unfortunate encounter has to do with this. Look, men argue after a few drinks. We can set all that aside, can’t we?”

Emil pointed at the other one, Walti. “And
he
was one of the gang who beat me to a pulp outside. They spat on me and called me a homosexual.”

“Emil is not homosexual, I promise,” said Fadiya. She pinched his arm, as if to quiet him.

“One moment I am Italian communist filth, fit only to be brutalised. Now you want me to appear in your movies? Are you out of your mind?”

“If what you suggest happened, it was a dreadful mistake and no doing of mine,” said Reiniger. Sweat glistened on his high forehead. Wolfgang Notz looked uncomfortable, but Emil felt pure raging fury.

“What in hell makes you think that Madame Lenoir ever wanted your services?”

“We’ll see about that. I have a party invitation from her, which rather indicates that she wants to make peace.” Reiniger gave a small, tight smile. “There have been misunderstandings.”