Vampire Hunter D (21 page)

A daylight foe—because of him, D’s movements were greatly restricted. Up until now, he’d only had to worry about taking up his blade by night. But now, it would be patently impossible to go attack the Count in his castle and leave Doris and Dan under the scrutiny of an appreciable foe who possessed both weird weapons and even stranger skill.

“Still, it’s too bad they didn’t lock that bastard Greco up,” Dan muttered.

The sheriff was wrapped up in the Rei-Ginsei case, but couldn’t get to the bottom of Greco’s activities. The three of them had accompanied the lawman to the mayor’s house to question him, but the thoroughly disgusted mayor appeared and informed them that Greco had returned quite agitated the previous night, grabbed all the money in the house as well as the combat suit that’d just come back from the repair shop, and took off on his horse. The sheriff had Doris and the others wait in his office while he checked with some of Greco’s partners-in-crime, but they all said they didn’t know where he was.

Rei-Ginsei and Greco—with the whereabouts of both of them unknown there was little the sheriff could do. He informally sent Greco’s description to the other villages and requested that if the man was found, he was to be detained for having important information about the murder of Dr. Ferringo.

“But we can’t charge him in this case,” the sheriff told a visibly dissatisfied Doris. “From what you tell me, it seems Doc was killed by this Noble girl. And as for the matter of being turned into a vampire in the first place—well, even now it’s not clear if a person suffers any harm when that happens. I wish to hell the Capital would give us a clear ruling on that ...”

Doris nodded reluctantly.

It was unclear whether or not turning someone into a vampire could be considered murder. From one perspective, the change merely caused a shift in personality, not an absolute loss of life. The question dogged mankind throughout history, remaining undecided to this very day. Consequently, Greco couldn’t be charged with a crime, even though he didn’t inform the sheriff when he knew the Count was going to “kill” Dr. Ferringo.

“Quite the contrary, in the eyes of the law Greco might be considered a hero for rescuing you.” Seeing Doris’ slender eyebrows rise in wrath, the sheriff hurriedly added, “And while I don’t have any authority to get caught up in personal squabbles ...” The rest was implied—
when I find the weasel, I’m gonna belt him good
. Doris and Dan looked at each other and grinned.

Doris found herself in the first peaceful lull since the Count had attacked her.

There was a mountain of work to be done. Synthesized protein harvested by the robots had to be put into packages, stacked at the edge of the garden, and covered with a water-repellent tent until the traveling merchant made his monthly call. The Langs didn’t sell it, but rather traded it for daily necessities. The protein Doris and Dan grew was well known for its density, and the merchant always gave them an exceptional rate in trade for it.

The milking and general care of the cows had been neglected as well. Of course, the village of Ransylva was where most of that was traded; even though she’d been shut out of all the shops, she couldn’t let the cows go any longer. Doris’ battle with the Count didn’t put food on the table.

With Dan and a battered robot to help her, the job would’ve taken three whole days, but D did it in half a day. He skillfully poured huge bowls of milky protein extract into plastic packages, and then carried them from the processing area to the garden when he had a pile of a certain size. The boxes weighed a good seventy pounds each, and he carried three of them at a time. When he first saw it, Dan bugged out his eyes and exclaimed, “Wow!” but after three straight hours of this superhuman toting, his jaw dropped and he was left speechless.

The speed with which D milked the cows was almost miraculous. In the time it took Doris to do one cow, he did three. And that was only using his left hand. His right hand was left empty to go for the sword by his side at any time. That was the way Hunters were.

I wonder what kind of family he comes from?

It wasn’t the first time this question had occurred to her, but it hadn’t been answered in the days they’d been fighting, and even then Doris hadn’t had the time ask anyway. Actually, it was the code of the Frontier that you didn’t go poking into the background of travelers, and D’s bearing in particular didn’t invite questions.

Doris watched D’s profile with a distant look in her eyes as he silently worked one hand on the cow, the white fluid collecting in an aluminum-plated can.

The scene seemed so familiar; maybe it was the girl’s feverish, young heart that made her feel like it would go on this way forever. While it wasn’t that long ago that Doris had lost her father—and her battle to protect her brother and the farm began—she suddenly realized how exhausted she was.

“Done. Aren’t you finished yet?”

At D’s query, Doris returned from her fantasies. “Er, no, I’m done here.”

As she stood up and pulled the can out from under the cow, she felt as if she was naked before him.

“Your face is flushed. You coming down with a cold or something?”

“No, it’s not. It must just be the sunset.”

The interior of the barn was stained red.

“I see. The Count will probably come here again. You’d best eat early and get Dan to bed.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Doris grabbed the handle of the can with both hands and carried it to one side of barn. For some reason she had no strength.

“Leave it. I’ll carry it,” D said, having seen how wobbly her legs were.

“I’ll be fine!”

Her tone was so rough she surprised herself. Tears rolled out with the words. Dropping the can to the ground, she ran out sobbing.

As D went after her—though his casual pace hardly made it seem like pursuit—Dan trained an apprehensive gaze on him from the porch.

“Sis ran around back crying. You two have a fight or something?”

D shook his head. “No. Your sister’s just worried about you.”

“You know, someone told me a man shouldn’t make women cry.”

D smiled wryly. “You’re right. I’ll go apologize.”

Taking a few steps, D then turned to Dan again.

“You still remember that promise you made, do you?”

“Yep.”

“You’re eight now. In another five years, you’ll be stronger than your sister. Don’t forget.”

Dan nodded. When he raised his face, it was shining with tears.

“Are you gonna go away, D? Once you’ve killed the Count, I mean.”

D disappeared around back without giving an answer.

Doris was leaning against the fence. Her shoulders were quaking.

D’s footsteps didn’t make a sound as he went and stood behind her.

A cool breeze played through the grassy sea beyond the fence and through Doris’ black tresses.

“You should go back to the house.”

Doris didn’t reply, but after a bit she mumbled, “I should’ve looked for someone else. Once you’re gone, I won’t be able to live like I did before. That milking can just now—I used to be able to carry two at a time. I won’t be able set Dan straight when he needs it, or have the strength to fend off any fellahs who come out here courting me. But you’re gonna go just the same.”

“That was the deal. That will end your sorrow. That or my death.”

“No!” Doris suddenly buried her face in his muscular chest. “No, no, no.”

She didn’t know what she was protesting. Nor did she know why she cried. Neither the young woman weeping—as if weeping could keep a phantom from vanishing—nor the young man with the melancholy air supporting her moved for the longest time. And then, after a little while …

Doris lifted her face suddenly. Just above her head, D had started to growl softly. Doris was about to ask, “What is it?” when her head was forced back against his chest by his formidable strength. A few seconds more passed.

The two silhouettes were fused in the red glow, but from between the two of them came the words, “I’m okay now,” in a feverish voice.

Nothing else was said, and soon D gently pushed Doris away and quickly walked back toward the house.

As he rounded the corner of the barn, a voice said teasingly, “Why didn’t you drink her blood?” It originated around his waist.

“Shut up.” For once D’s voice bore undisguised emotion.

“The girl knew. She knew what you wanted. Oh, now don’t you make that face with me. You can fight it all you like, but you’ve got the blood of the Nobility in the marrow of your bones. The fact that when you fancy a woman you’re more interested in latching onto her pale neck instead of getting her in the sack is proof of that.”

It was true. When Doris had bared her soul to him, and he felt her warm body sobbing against his chest, D’s expression became the same lurid vampire visage he’d worn when he drank the blood of the Midwich Medusas in the darkness of the subterranean aqueduct. But somehow, with his truly impressive willpower, he’d managed to fight the urge this time.

As D kept walking, the voice said to him, “The girl saw your other face. Not just that, but I bet she smelled your breath as it brushed her neck. Smelled the scent of your cursed blood. And still she said she didn’t mind. Go easy on the nice guy routine. You fight your own desire and deny the wishes of the girl—is that any way for a grown dhampir to act? You’re always on the run—from your blood, and from the people who want you. When you tell them you were fated to part, that’s just dressing it up in a pretty excuse. Listen to me. Your father—”

“Shut up.” The words D said were the same as a moment earlier, but the eerie aura behind them made it plain this was far more than just a threat. The voice fell silent. Climbing the stairs to the porch, D turned a thoughtful gaze to the prairie and muttered, “Still, I’ve got to go—go and find
him
.”

..

“Oh, shit!”

As D’s hard gaze filled the lenses’ field of view, a shadowy figure hurriedly ducked, afraid that D would see him. But he forgot he was now on a hill a good thousand feet away. It was none other than the mayor’s hell-raising son Greco, who most believed to have long since fled the village. He was wearing his combat suit.

“That son of a bitch gets to have all the fun,” Greco said, slamming his electronic binoculars against the ground. The previous night, after deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he’d come up to the top of this hill and kept an eye on the farm. Lying flat on his belly, he reached over to his saddlebags and pulled the Time-Bewitching Incense out from among the food and provisions packed in there.

“Heh, you’ll get yours once the sun’s down. I’ll use this baby to get you down crawling on the ground, then nail you with a stake. Then yours truly will take Doris by the hand and kiss this godforsaken shithole goodbye,” he said spitefully, turning his eyes toward the farm again. The previous night he’d been so scared by the Count and his werewolf that he’d abandoned all thought of killing them and decided to abduct Doris instead. And clearly, the person he talked about dispatching with a stake was D.

“I wonder if it’ll go as smoothly as all that?” The words rained down on Greco in a cool voice.

“What the—?!”

Looking up, Greco saw a handsome young man sitting on a branch directly overhead. He wore an innocent smile, but his left arm was missing below the elbow, and its stump was wrapped in a bloody white cloth. He needed no introduction. And yet, less than twenty-four hours after losing one arm he’d climbed up into a tree and scared the daylights out of Greco while looking no worse for wear, aside from a little darkness around his eyes. What strength he had, both physically and mentally!

Rei-Ginsei got back down to the ground without making a sound.

“Wh … what the hell do you want?”

“Don’t play the innocent. I’m the rightful owner of that candle. Thanks to you, I lost my arm. I came out to the farm in the hopes of encountering the Count, but lo and behold, I’ve run across someone else of interest to me. So, are the three of them still hale and hearty?”

His speech was refined, but Greco felt a crushing coercion in it that left him bobbing his head in agreement.

“I suspected as much. In which case, I shall have to score some quick points here if I’m to be made one of them.” After that enigmatic statement, the handsome young man addressed Greco with familiarity. “What do you say to joining forces with me?”

“Work with you?”

“From what I observed up in the tree, you seem obsessed with the young lady on the farm. Yet her bodyguard remains an obstacle. I have another reason for wanting him out of the way. What say you?”

Greco hesitated.

Rei-Ginsei chided him. “Are you certain you can finish him, even with the candle and your combat suit? With your skill?”

Greco was at a loss for an answer. That was exactly why he hadn’t gone down and abducted Doris yet. Thanks to the effect it had on the Count’s daughter, he’d been able to verify that Time-Bewitching Incense was highly effective against pure vampires, but when it came to a half-human dhampir, he didn’t have much confidence. He’d donned the combat suit, but since it was just back from the repair shop he wasn’t used to wearing it or using it, and if he had to call upon its power, it was doubtful he could use it to its full potential. “You mean to say, if I hook up with you, we might be able to do this?” His words were proof enough he’d fallen under Rei-Ginsei’s spell.

Killing his smile, the handsome young man nodded. “Indeed. Once the sun has set I shall fight him, so watch for the right moment to light the candle, if you please. Should he leave himself open for even an instant, well, that’s where my blades come in,” he said, pointing to the shrike-blades on his hip.

Greco made up his mind. “Sure ... but what happens after that?”

“After that?”

“I know you’re planning on handing the girl over to the Count, but that’s exactly what I’ve been busting my hump to keep from happening.”

“In that case, take her and flee,” Rei-Ginsei said casually. Seeing the now-stupefied Greco, he added, “I merely promised him I would slay the dhampir. I don’t care a whit whose property the girl becomes. That matter is between yourself and the Count, is it not? But you being a fellow human and all, if you like I shall tell my compatriots scattered across the Frontier to aid you in your flight from the Count.”