The Kingmakers(22)

His arm was numb with the continuous effort of driving at the creatures. He was covered in as much blood as his smoldering blade; he was slick with it, screaming a challenge like a man obsessed. He killed and went forward again. Then something struck his head and he fell back against the mare’s haunches, barely keeping his stirrups and his weapon.

He tried to right himself while the horse careened into bodies. When he saw three vampires swooping at him from above, he knew he was lost. He couldn’t raise the saber in time, and his pistol was long since spent. His angle was too awkward, and he was unable to do more than watch his demise approach.

A burst of rapid gunfire brushed his hair, and the vampires disintegrated in a spray of blood and bone. Anhalt twisted to see his savior, a palsied Galahad approaching with faltering steps.

With a shout, he saluted the man inside and brought his mare back under control. Then the machine gun on the tank rattled through empty chambers, its ammo at last spent; its fuel would not be far behind.

Anhalt slashed with his saber at monstrous faces all around him. Soon all ammunition would be spent. The ordnance of sinew would have to hold out until the empress made her play.





ADELE HAD BEEN in one other vampire city in her lifetime. She tried not to think about the horrible things she had seen in London, though she knew she would see them again in Grenoble. Vampires turned every city into a cemetery.

Once-bright-red roof tiles lay in shattered rings around the buildings, torn loose by the claws of vampires perching and crawling. The windows and doorways lay bare and open to the elements with nothing but detritus inside. Adele could see the once-regal beauty of exquisite architecture still outlined in the crumbling façades. Framed against the majestic Alps the city still struggled to maintain its dignity. Balconies of stone and metal had collapsed on once-splendid buildings. In the distance she could see the points of rotund towers, so typical of the region. Beside them, Adele and Gareth strolled past pedestals that once held statues but now stood like silent soldiers.

In gruesome contrast, a tableaux of morbid humanity lay frozen on the streets, stiff from ice and death. The bodies were covered in a light dusting of snow for which Adele was grateful because the cold masked the stench and blanketed the horror of what it meant to be under the yoke of vampire persecution. All the cadavers were naked, their clothing likely put to good use by the living. Stepping over a pile of bones, her foot slipped on slick, icy stones. She reached out to catch herself, and almost struck a passing vampire before she jerked her hand away and grabbed a snapped gas lamp. To her relief, the creature sensed nothing.

A few humans gathered inside stone buildings, huddled around fires. Some glanced curiously at her, but didn’t react. There were far fewer people milling around than she would have expected. As the cacophony of gunfire increased in the western quarter of the city, she suspected that the vampires had gathered their food somewhere to make sure none revolted or ran toward the Equatorian lines.

Gareth resisted glancing toward her and instead marched forward, trusting that she was near him. Adele admired his willpower. She wasn’t sure she would be so resolute were their positions reversed.

The rolling waters of the Isère appeared before them, and though Gareth could have easily lifted off and floated to the other bank, he took a longer route to a footbridge. Adele had to come off the line slightly so they could cross the gurgling river. She redoubled her concentration to maintain her cover. She felt the connection strengthen again as they approached the medieval church of St. Laurent, made of typical whitish stone and red tiles. The old structure lay in less disarray than the rest of the city. Adele’s route lay through the courtyard of the church and then up a steep mountain path to the Bastille, which loomed dark and misty in the drifting snow. The great walled fort on the mountain had been built over a rift, due to humanity’s latent attachment to the Earth’s power. It was also the home of clan leader’s court.

Gareth hissed a warning and Adele started as shadows passed over the frosty stones at her feet. She glanced up and saw ten or more vampires circling overhead like a murder of crows. They had peeled off a larger group heading toward the battle when they had noticed Gareth, a stranger in a city under siege.

Adele took one more step near the church grounds, and the power beneath it swelled within her. It pushed at her barriers hungrily, and it took all her willpower to hold it in check.

“I need a moment,” she whispered urgently, her voice rough with effort.

Gareth stepped closer and then away again as he could feel the discomfort of her presence. “What’s wrong?”