The Living Night (Book 2) (13 page)

"Now," she said, shoving D'Aguila away
and addressing them all, "follow me."

*
    
*
    
*

The
Elephant Room lay in darkness, only a few torches and the fire throwing light.
In his usual chair sat the Great White Hunter, Lord Kharker. Stirring, as if
trying to awake from slumber, Kharker struggled against the chains that bound
him. Large and gleaming, the chains were tightly drawn across him, and a dozen
different Libertarians kept guard.

"He put up quite a fight," explained
Maleasoel. "We shot him with bullets and tranquilizers for a long time
until he finally went out. He's only now coming out of it. He killed ten of my
men himself, not to mention what damage his bodyguards did. See all that blood?
Only half of it's
his own
. But we got him, and I suppose
that's what matters.
For the cause.”

"Just what cause is that?” asked Ruegger.
“I thought you'd abandoned the idea of taking over the world."

Maleasoel shot him a sharp glance and he shut
up. Jean-Pierre didn't know exactly what was going on and he didn't think
Ruegger did either, bur perhaps there were some things the soldiers
really
weren’t meant to know.

"So what are you going to do with
Kharker?" Jean-Pierre asked.

For the first time, she smiled, but it was not a
kind smile. "We're going to find answers," she said.

Half a dozen pairs of hands seized Jean-Pierre
from behind, fixing him to the spot despite his struggles. At the same time, he
saw D'Aguila come up to Ruegger from behind and wrap his large arms about the
Darkling, immobilizing him.
All this done with not a little
satisfaction on the part of the Captain.
From the shadows another shade
was brought forward, also restrained by Libertarians: Gavin.

"What the hell is going on?" Gavin
said.

"That's just what we're going to find
out." Malie nodded to one of her soldiers, who injected something into Kharker's
arm. "He'll be coming around shortly, and then it begins."

"You've changed," Ruegger said.

"Yes," she answered. "I
have."

"If Ludwig were still alive ...”

"But he's not. Now shut up, both of you. As
I said, this is business."

Kharker's heavy eyes fluttered open and stared
about him in impotent rage. He strained against his chains and, with what slack
they would allow, pounded his fists on the arms of his chair. He bared his
teeth, his face momentarily losing its humanity, and fixed his gaze on
Maleasoel.

"Goddamn you.”

"You brought this on yourself, wolf,"
she said.

At last he let his anger ebb. "I suppose I
did at that. I'm sorry about Ludwig, my dear."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it."

"Of course
not."

She turned her head to encompass Jean-Pierre,
Ruegger, and Gavin. "Now, you bastard, tell us what we need to know and
these three individuals will live. For every lie you tell us, we’ll kill one of
them."

"Jesus," Ruegger muttered, struggling
in D'Aguila's arms.

She turned to the Darkling, her face cold. She
started to say something,
then
stopped.

Ruegger nodded at her in disgust.
"Business," he said.

"Exactly."

She turned back to the Hunter.

"You're bluffing," said Kharker.

"I'm not. The only one of the three that
means a thing to me is Ruegger, but he's been jeopardizing his life for some
time in an effort to find Ludwig's killer, so I won't feel too guilty if I kill
him now in the conclusion of that quest. The others I couldn't care less about.
But I'm sure you could. Other than these three individuals, I know of only one
being who you love on this earth, and that’s Roche Sarnova."

"What if you think I'm lying and I'm
not?"

"If you tell the truth and these men die
anyway, then your conscience will be clear.
I
will be the one at fault."

"What if I just tell you what you want to
hear?"

"You have no idea what I want to
hear."

"I've an idea. Obviously, since I'm still
alive, you assume that I didn't kill
Ludwig, that
I'm
covering for somebody. Logically, that person would be Blackie—and that's what
you want me to tell you. I won't do it, so save
yourself
the trouble."

"Big words.
Nevertheless, we will
proceed and you’ll tell the truth or watch those you love die one by one. Are
you ready?"

His nostrils flared cruelly, but he nodded.

"Very good," she said. "Now tell
me this: who killed Ludwig?"

"I did."

"Strike one."

She turned her head toward one of the groups of
Libertarians.
The ones holding Gavin.
Without
hesitation, they tore off the manservant's head. Kharker pitched himself
forward, simultaneously trying to break his chains with physical and
telekinetic powers. Apparently there were some good mindthrusters among the
many Libertarians, as the chains held.

One of the soldiers placed her face over Gavin's
fountaining
neck, and blood splashed down her throat
and over her face, painting her in red. Below her, Gavin's body was being
quickly dismembered. One of the jandrows plunged his hand inside the werewolf's
chest and, after a gruesome sound, pulled the manservant's heart out of his
body. The winged creature bit into the still-pumping muscle and began to drink.

The Great White Hunter roared, his face contorting
into a mask of fury. As he watched Gavin's body being torn limb from limb, a
trickle of tears burst from his eyes.

"You will die for this," he said to
Maleasoel, although he did not look at her. "I raised Gavin from infancy.
I loved him as a boy, instructed him in all manner of things, watched him grow
into a fine man and then immortalized him. He's been my right hand for over a
hundred years. It was understood that if I died, he would inherit the Lodge and
everything that goes with it." Suddenly, his face went slack, drained of
all emotion. "Yes," he repeated, "you will die for this."

Maleasoel nodded without sentiment.

"Now tell me who killed Ludwig," she
said.

He glared at her, silent. Then his face bloomed
into an expression of sheer uncompromising defiance.

"I did," he said.

A
rictor
-mortis grin
tattooed itself on her face, and she nodded to herself.

"Very well," she muttered.

She positioned herself between Jean-Pierre and
Ruegger. The albino could smell her strange dark
scent,
feel the grip of her hand in his hair, holding his face up so Kharker could
see. Craning his neck a little, he saw that she had Ruegger in a similar grip.

"I cannot choose to kill Ruegger," she
said, "because he’s been my friend for a long, long time. More than that,
he was Ludwig's friend and that means a lot to me. Ludwig had few true friends.
Most of them were just trying to take advantage of him for one thing or
another, but not Ruegger. So I cannot chose to kill him, but if I kill the
other one now, your Jean-Pierre, it will amount to the same thing, because
Ruegger would then be next. The only thing I would have accomplished would've
been to delay Ruegger' death. Therefore, it’s up to you, Kharker, which one dies
and which one doesn't. One of them must. No longer is it in my hands, but I'll
be forced to choose if you don't, and I think this might be a decision that makes
some difference to you. So ... who is your pick?"

The Hunter looked back and forth between the
Darkling and the albino, silent and hateful. Finally, he closed his eyes and
whispered, "Okay, you bitch. I'll tell you everything I know."

She released her hold on her captives.
"Good choice. But I don't want to know everything you know—just the part
that pertains to Ludwig."

"Fuck you, harlot."

"Who killed
Ludwig?"

"I don't know," he hissed. "And
that's the truth."

"What
do
you know?"

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Let me
begin at the beginning."

"If you must."

"It starts after the safari I took with
Jean-Pierre to celebrate my first millenium. We took an abbreviated visit to
Blackie's Castle and came back here to the Lodge. A few days later, Jean-Pierre
left to return to New York.
A few days after that, the
Sangro Sankts
arrived."

"The
Sangro
Sankts
?"

"An order of kavasari
that protects Roche Sarnova and the conquerors of his line."

"I've never heard of them."

"They're very secretive."

"Continue."

Knitting his thick eyebrows, Kharker said,
"They made a proposition to me. They said that a pair of Balaklava had
killed Ludwig and that Roche was presumed to have hired them simply because he
was the only immortal the two had had any contact with since before their exile
in Jamaica.
Maybe that’s true, I don’t know.

“Whatever, they left Jamaica in order to do a piece of
artwork for Sarnova. He commissioned them to do it, and I guess they figured it
was worth coming out of their voluntary exile to build something for the Dark
Lord. The created the Tree of Death, I think it’s called. Anyway, so the rumor
got started that he was responsible for Ludwig's death. The
Sangro Sankts
believed otherwise. They appealed to my love of Roche, saying that Ludwig's
widow had vowed to avenge her late husband's murder, and that she had at her
disposal one of the largest immortal armies in the world.
Maybe
the
largest.
The
Sangro Sankts
said that with the soldiers
of Liberty she
just might have the ability to destroy Blackie, which was what their coven was
designed to prevent ... that, and another stipulation which has nothing to do
with the matter at hand.

“The kavasari asked me to publicly take the fall
for hiring Junger and Jagoda to assassinate Ludwig, hoping to take the pressure
of Liberty off
of Blackie's back and put it on mine instead. I hesitated. I love Roche, but I’d
prefer to stay undead just the same. The
Sangro Sankts
sweetened the
deal. They said that they have a small army of immortals that they would be
willing to loan me until this whole thing blows over. I asked where this army
came from, but they weren't very forthcoming, though they hinted that somewhere
on the planet there was a place where all kavasari could seek refuge, and that
in this place there was an army of lesser shades to protect them—a small army.
One that couldn't rise up and kill their rulers; the kavasari got burned on that
before.

“At any rate, they loaned me this force, and I
was glad to lend Roche a hand. I was expecting an attack from the air, though.
I have rocket launchers and guided missiles, the whole works. At the very
least, I was prepared to be raided from the jungle. Obviously, I wasn't
fortified properly to resist an attack from
beneath
. So here I am."

"Yes. Here you are...."

Maleasoel stared at him for a long time, tapping
her foot rhythmically, entranced by her own thoughts. At last her foot stopped
moving and she shifted her posture to light a cigarette.

"All right.
I believe you."

Kharker seemed to relax. "Please," he
said. "Can you remove these chains so that I can light a cigar?"

"I suppose.”

"And release Ruegger and Jean-Pierre?"

"Naturally.
But there's just one
more question."

"Yes?"

"
WHO FUCKING
KILLED LUDWIG!
"

Her volume pinned the Hunter to his seat.

Suddenly sweating, he said, "I told you,
goddamnit. I don't know. If I had to guess, I would say Ludwig's killer was
Subaire, the leader of the half of the Dark Council that opposes Roche. But I
don't think it's her."

"Why?"

"Because it's too obvious, and she's
smarter than that."

Cruelly, she smiled. “Actually, you’re right. I
did a little ... investigating ... myself, and I determined that Subaire has
nothing to do with Ludwig’s death. She was one of my first choices, but when
she didn’t pan out I came to you.”

He stared at her, as if realizing something. “When
I went to London
to try and figure this whole thing out, I learned that Subaire had been ...
kidnapped.”

Again, Malie smiled, but any joy in her face had
vanished completely. "What makes you so sure Sarnova didn't do it, after
all?"

"For one thing, he had no reason to. For
another, the poor man's in the middle of a fucking war, which he's losing by
all
accounts.
Why add insult to injury and incite the
wrath of the second largest immortal army in the world? It just doesn't make
sense. Lastly, I believe that he would've told me if he had a part in your
husband's death. That's all I know."