Chapter XV: The Devil of Vienna

Vienna, 10:25 pm

At exactly ten past ten in the evening, Captain Vasili Andreev knocked on Mr. Itzhak's door, solemnly informing him of the Marie-Therese's imminent arrival in Vienna. He thanked 'Mr. Itzhak' for the concern he had taken for his family and wished him well on his journey. He also wished to remind 'Mr. Itzhak' of four outstanding debts from his last trip, amounting to the sum of seventy-five roubles, plus interest. He would now recite the list as follows. Damage to one antique door amounting to twenty-five roubles. Damage to one antique chest amounting to ten roubles. Damage to one antique desk amounting to…

During this long-winded send-off, the bloodseer continued to read her Historia Plantarum, supporting the eighty-seventh page delicately with two of her fingers. The journey had not been easy, lying in the dark, her imagination confronting death from all angles. Dreaming of death, she had succumbed to it. From there, the decision had been simple… She had no clothing. No belongings. Nothing to propel her toward rising. Even this book was not hers. Whatever years were left in her life, she would spend them in weakness, hounded on all sides by her enemies. She must give up.

It was a cruel lesson.

But then…out of broken memories, she saw herself: arms trapped behind her back, the green-eyed woman guiding her closer to the fire. Now pushing her. 'Those who hurt you will be indifferent to your pain,' the woman had hissed. '…so you must be indifferent as well.' Burning in the fire, she had drawn a scream from inside. She would no longer shame herself. She would be cold…logical…all-seeing.

Another cruel lesson…but one with lasting qualities.

Already, she had moved beyond the first chapter of Theophrastus, her eyes calmly honing in on the list of poisonous toxins once used by the Greeks. All the names were familiar to her. Conium maculatum, known as poison hemlock. Veratrum album, common name, white hellebore, the roots causing paralysis and death. Mandragora officinarum, the mandrake root, poisonous from its root to its tip. Aconitum, common name, aconite or monkshood. Most vampires called it wolfsbane. The plant caused severe vomiting and respiration failure. After a number of hours, while fully conscious, the victim died of asphyxiation. It was comforting to think of Lucian dying in that manner. When she escaped this trap and returned to the north, she would take this book as a memento of life's cruelty.

"Reinette…"

She looked up. It was not her name. It had no meaning to her…like dressing a seal in lace and calling it to come…but for now, she would listen. Around her, the room had the air of a storm which had come and gone, leaving her untouched in blink of an eye. All trace of the mess was missing from his desk. The floor had been swept, and the bed-sheets were folded onto the bunks. Lucian was kneeling by the open door, cinching his luggage shut with the brass clasps. Raze must have left already.

"…we are leaving."

She closed the book and stood. "I am ready."

"Then move." Impatiently, he gestured to the door. "We have much to accomplish before morning, so I trust you to keep to yourself when speaking to our newest travelling companion. Exiles do not make good allies." Was that a joke? Impossible. In spite of the many hours of sleep, he looked haggard in the lamplight. His beard and moustache untrimmed, the grey eyes peering out of shadows rather than sockets. She remembered his words to her. He would kill her if she mentioned his name to a single soul.

Nodding, she stepped past him into the ship's hallway, peering down the hull that had frightened her so many hours before. The stairs were dark now, the offending sunlight banished to another realm. Behind her, the glow of their room went out. Lucian had doused the lamp. She stepped forward, feeling colder as they neared the outside. Things were much steeper than she'd realised. Mounting the first step gingerly, she felt more as if she were climbing a ladder rather than a stairs. There was only so much space available on the fishing vessel. Her pace quickened…she heard Lucian's steps behind her, the sound all but pushing her over to the upper-deck. As a result, she stumbled…

…and was caught.

She looked up.

The face of a dark angel, a seraph who would drop his things to stop her fall. She swallowed, aware that she was partially blocking the stairs. He was dressed as the other sailors, but she saw his teeth as he smiled. A warm dimple…a moment of understanding between prisoners. What she would give to be young at this moment, held in the arms of this vampire. He lifted her the rest of the way and set her firmly on the deck, bowing his head for a moment before speaking.

"Good evening," he said. Even his voice was desirable, the intonation of his Russian rising on the end of his phrases, the calm speech of a learned man. "I am Nikolai Proshkov Andreev." Her hand was still in his, her old flesh clasped so carefully in his young fingers. She could not pull away. Watching her face, he raised her hand and kissed the back in greeting. The act of a gentleman. "I think you must call me Kolya?"

A murderer.

This was the murderer.

She blushed, knowing her face was old. "Good evening," she managed, quiet, feeling timid as she heard herself speak to this…murderer. She must remember the reason for his exile. She must remember…the rough cobweb of her voice next to his. The dust-smell that lingered on her clothes, the scent of an unwashed body. He must wonder at her place in all of this… "I am…" Her mouth closed suddenly. How could she tell him a name she could not pronounce properly? Would he laugh? Why did she care? He was a murderer. A killer of other vampires…the way Tanis was.

Immediately, she took her hand back…

From the lower deck, Lucian hurdled the last step and dropped his bag to the deck with a thud. He smiled, intently watching Nikolai over her shoulder, his hand slipping under her elbow. "Reinette…" he said. "…go and stand with Raze."

To her surprise, she found herself relieved. This vampire…unbalanced her. Quickly, she spied the hulking lycan where he was, his back to her as he conversed with the captain, likely as not paying Lucian's debt. She could not help but look behind her, spying as Lucian took the vampire aside to have a quiet word. Against the waning moon, their silhouettes were in contrast, the vampire, skinny and tall in his rumpled jumper, towering over Lucian who sported what appeared to be a less formal version of the suits she had seen in his bag. A blazer of sorts. In spite of the height difference, there was such a firmness in his stance that it was much like watching a stone face a twig. If only she could hear what they were saying…

o…o…o

"I am Nikolai Proshkov Andreev." The vampire bowed his head, holding his hand out in greeting. "Great-grand-nephew of Vasili Igorovich Andreev. I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Itzhak. On behalf of myself and my family, I am thankful for your…"

He interrupted the vampire, allowing the greeting to wash under his feet. "I assume your sire has spoken to you about the ground rules?"

"Of course, Mr. Itzhak." The vampire did not waver in his directness. "We have an understanding. I will hunt and the lady may drink of me as she wishes." He quirked his eyebrow. "In exchange, you take me past the border and bless me with half a year to settle my accounts. I have freedom from both this ship and this world."

For a moment, Lucian was not inclined to answer, staring just past the vampire to the waters ahead. The pier was coming in sight, the lights of Vienna barely visible through the fog. Freedom from this world was not possible. Suddenly, he turned, his gaze targeting Reinette. She was standing a mere ten feet behind them. Rather than flinch, she shrugged, her back defiant as she moved to join Raze. Her expression said that spying was a reasonable and accepted practice and if he did not like it, then he should seriously reconsider his vocation. Insufferable woman. This was not a matter to dance around until he woke up one morning to find Reinette's head sitting on his luggage.

He returned his attention back to Nikolai, the image of his quarry's head adding an edge to his candour. "I have a problem with you, Nikolai Proshkov," he said straightforwardly. "…but you can help me with it." He sniffed, touching his hand to his nose, now rubbing the side of his hand against his beard. It was starting to itch. "Reinette may be weak, but she has blood to spare." He began to walk along the ship's side, perusing the shoreline as Nikolai moved to follow. "Explain to me how I am to trust you when my first impression of you has her blushing. Has you kissing the hand of an old woman rather than spurning it." He stopped walking, turning to face Nikolai so suddenly the vampire almost stumbled. "Are you thinking of taking her head as well?"

"Bah!" Nikolai laughed, the sweet sound of an innocent, his smell starting to drip of sincerity. It was apparent where the boy got his expressions from. "Mr. Itzhak," he said candidly, steadying himself with one of the ship-lines. "…I would never dream of hurting those who would help me in this manner. Instead, I will hurt those who aim to hurt you, and I will consider myself your servant for the next half year." Again he held his hand out. "We are friends, yes?"

"No. That is more than our deal will allow for, Nikolai."

"Please…you must call me Kolya."

"Alright. Kolya." Lucian turned, ambling back towards the others, allowing Nikolai to catch up with him. "Let me strip this bare so you get what we're dealing with." In their wake, a sailor dropped his rope, perhaps concerned over the teeth growing from his mouth. Or perhaps the concept of a vampire and a lycan taking a walk together. It was debatable. "The first three-quarters of the journey, you will be blind-folded. While hunting, you will be in the company of my associate. If I were more than I am, you would not need his protection, but as it is, you are in need. The Underground will know Raze for whom he is."

Raze was the figure-head. To the vampires, even to some of Kraven's deathdealers, Aleksey Itzhak was just a merchant. A middle-man doing business under the nose of the vampires. In most cases, half a century could pass before Soren considered a recruit ready to learn of Aleksey Itzhak's true identity. As it was…Nikolai had only been among them for two years before he was cast out.

"It is good." For the third time, the vampire thrust his hand out, betraying an insatiable need to shake hands. It was the Russian way of business, one that Lucian often spurned save for those he wished to impress. He stared at the hand. He did not enjoy having his hands touched…and he did not need to impress this vampire. But it would not hurt to start their acquaintance on a finer note than discord.

He held his hand out.

Immediately, the vampire grasped it, shaking the hand firmly. There was a fierce joy in his expression, as if he had proven himself worthy of life simply by getting Aleksey Itzhak to seal the deal with a handshake. "Thank you," he said. "We are friends now, Mr. Itzhak…I will keep it that way, you will see."

o…o…o

Curious, the blood-seer crept up again, the book still clutched to her chest. Their conversation was drawing to a close, Lucian plainly uncomfortable with the vampire's fingers still wrapped around his hand. Even as he coldly began to unwrap them, Nikolai did not notice, still smiling radiantly, almost glowing. A buoyant vampire if she ever saw one. It made one wonder how he ended up beheading a council member.

She wandered over to the side of the ship, aware that Raze was following her. So close to land, he would not let her escape overboard. The city lights were masked by fog, the pier almost scraping against the Marie-Therese's side. Men were running to grab lines, a number of them setting up the gangplank so they might disembark. The city was a mystery to her…and she could not recall if she had ever been here. Whether she had come from here on her journey to Budapest twenty years ago. Had she left things behind…a home…a family? Somewhere…was someone waiting for her? Twenty years of waiting. Twenty years in a crypt…and now she was unrecognisable. No one would know her for who she was…not even her family, if she had one.

Again, she felt a hand on her elbow.

She looked up, expecting to see Lucian, but instead, saw Raze, his chest covered in a cotton shirt and leather vest. She looked higher, almost wanting to shade her eyes. She only reached his forearm. He was attempting to guide her to the gangplank, steering her as if she could not walk by herself. She could walk on her own. She would escape on her own. She would live on her own when this escapade was over. Suddenly, she took hold of the siding, gripping it firmly so that he stopped.

"I am not an invalid," she said frigidly.

He let go.

Sniffing, she peered at him once more, making certain he would not take her arm again, and then strode towards the gangplank. Hemlock, she thought. Aconitum for Lucian and hemlock for Raze. Even the strongest creatures could die from eating poison. At the end of the gangplank, she waited with Raze and the bags. They were standing on the wooden pier, only an old man on a cask to greet them. This could not be the main city, she thought. The great Vienna. It was too…quiet. Too shadowy.

Behind her, she heard Lucian and Nikolai walking firmly down the wooden plank, their voices murmuring in sequence, speaking quietly of travel arrangements it seemed. They came to stand beside her…and for a moment, it seemed they were standing in limbo. Raze was staring off into the distance, while Lucian began to tap the side of his boot against one of the pier posts. The sound was getting irritating, but it was not her place to tell him off. Only to poison him in future. Suddenly she heard cobblestones. Horses on wet cobblestones, the sound of a carriage coming towards the dock. The wheels stilled and then the sound of boots, a muffled echo in the fog. Boots striding towards them.

The boots of…

…a woman.

Stunning, dressed in what surely must be the latest of fashions, the woman strutted down the pier as if she owned Vienna…her slender body draped in a style of riding clothes, a long, tight-waisted skirt covered with a fitted jacket and a rain-cloak. Her hair was auburn, tightly coiled beneath a stylish, wide-brimmed hat. Her legs had to be longer than the ship. Every step brought the woman closer to them and to her chagrin, the bloodseer could only step back, holding her book closer, feeling the need to shrink. Was every new acquaintance going to be beautiful this night?

On her one side, Kolya was running a hand through his hair, a languid smile finding its way to his lips. He might look like an angel, but a devil was the way a vampire acted when he saw a woman worth looking at. Not kissing her hand politely like she was his grandmother, but eating her body with his eyes. She turned away, disgusted by his reaction. On the other side, Lucian had not changed his manner. Expressionless, he stopped kicking the pier and shouldered his bag, walking on ahead to meet the woman.

The bloodseer watched him go, suddenly melancholic over her lost youth again. Of course, he would have a lover. Someone as beautiful as this woman. This stylish woman who did not fear the lycan master. She trailed after him, her body stooped as she prepared herself to see them embrace. It did not mean that she envied her…but from the time she had known Lucian, it had been a comfort seeing how solitary he was. The lone wolf surrounded by misery. She had enjoyed knowing he was completely alone in the…

She stopped, unaware that her mouth had opened.

Lucian had passed the woman, not even glancing at her. The siren kept walking… Her hips moving like a dancer, radiating sexuality, honing in on her prey. She strutted past the old man on the cask. Past the bloodseer…past Kolya…and straight into the arms of Raze.

Not Lucian.

Shocked, the seer turned away, following after Lucian quickly this time. She managed to close her mouth, feeling the mild dryness of having left it open for the last ten seconds. Footsteps behind her as Kolya chewed off his tongue and followed, probably as unwilling as she was to be caught spying on the greeting this woman was giving Raze.

At the end of the pier, paying no attention whatsoever to other people's love affairs, Lucian had already thrown the bags in the back of the carriage. Seeing his prisoners approach, he signalled both of them to get inside, handing them both blindfolds as they entered. Like in Budapest, the carriage was black, the windows covered in thick folds of velvet. It made her skin crawl, but she entered. After surrendering his bag, Kolya stepped up as well, eagerly taking the blindfold. He had tied it almost before he sat down. Such an eager vampire, but she could not bring herself to do it just yet. A little longer before she went into darkness again.

"Who is she …" she asked hastily, buying time under the full brunt of Lucian's stare. He was eyeing the blindfold. Surely he must see it would not matter if she blindfolded herself now or in the next two minutes… "…will she come with us? Is she a vampire?"

"Who?" Lucian glanced up from the blindfold. "Allegra?" He barked a laugh. "That she-devil. She brought the carriage, but I assure you, she will not set foot near me. We do not see eye to eye, so to speak." He began searching his pockets for something, muttering as he did. "You vampires always associate beauty with your own kind, but trust me, that woman can grow hair like a…"

The door opened, and to her delight, Lucian abruptly clamped his mouth shut. It was the first time she had ever seen him shut up so quickly. He was scowling at the door now…or more appropriately, the figure in the door: this Allegra who openly smirked at him. All she needed was a tail, and she'd be a cat preening herself out of a dog's reach. She seemed very pleased with having chosen to sit inside the carriage rather than on the box with Raze. The seer held back her smile. The woman's beauty had prompted a moment of sadness, but her attitude to Lucian was sublime. For that…she would like this woman. Flamboyant…daring. A stance she would never again achieve in her weakened state. Standing only a moment in the doorway, Allegra did not waste time, delicately taking Raze's hand so that he could help her into the carriage. She adjusted her skirts so they were inside and then sat back, crossing her legs. The door shut, and the carriage rocked for a moment as they heard Raze climbing up to the top. It seemed that he would be driving.

"Blindfold," said Lucian callously.

Obedient, the bloodseer covered her eyes with the cloth, tying it behind her head. His fingers checked diligently if she had tied the knot well, firmly making sure the cloth covered her eyes properly. He did the same for Kolya, as it was only after a second spell that she heard him take his seat again. Now she was in darkness…nothing to see. The sound of the carriage. The sound of the woman's voice. Allegra. She sounded like water, the sweeping turn of a light brook. Pleasant to the ear…

A pity she could not understand their words…

o…o…o

"You look tired, Lyosha…was it a long journey?"

"Surely you can count, Allegra?"

She was not fazed. "And who have you returned with?" Elegantly, she folded her hands in her lap, sitting up to look closer at Reinette. "Raze tells me you are wooing old women, Lyosha…but I did not believe it until I stepped on the pier. Why is she so feeble? When was the last time you fed her, the poor thing…"

He did not answer. It was hard enough being civil to her in front of Raze that he saw no reason to make a great effort without the lycan's presence. Unfortunately, 'no answer' was just another opportunity for Allegra to fill silence.

"…and who is this other one?"

Without delay, Nikolai opened his trap, like he'd been waiting from the first moment to introduce himself. "I am Nikolai Proshkov Andreev," he said pleasantly. "Please…you must call me Kolya."

"Kolya," she twittered. "What a lovely name…and he speaks German. Lyosha, he is not so weak…another one of your gambles, I suppose. You know, you cannot save them all…"

Lucian tore his gaze from the window. "Do you mind?" he said.

"I do not," she answered sweetly, aware of what he was getting at. He had meant shut-up, but like most women, she had selective hearing. This was probably the most civil exchange they'd had in months. "And of course, I will be delighted to help her adjust, Lyosha. Raze sent me the courier, but I know it must have been you that asked him. We will find her clothing…something to cover her head until the hair grows. She will be an elegant little lady…"

"This is not an excursion of pleasure, Allegra."

"I never said it was." One of the curls in her hair had fallen loose, and she removed a pin, carefully winding the hair back into place. "I am simply pointing out that war does not have to turn us all into miserable vipers like yourself, Lyosha." She smiled. "…now leave it to me. She will be thanking you before the night is done."

"Just make it quick, Allegra. We do not have time to dally in the city…"

"…and we won't." She folded her hands again, a sly light growing in her eye. Beautiful as she was, Allegra was one of the oldest female lycans in the horde. One of the strongest warriors with the ability to change without the moon. "You have so little trust in women, Lyosha."

He said nothing.

"I received a frightful letter from Jacqueline the other day. I swear, the paper was still wet when it arrived in Vienna. Are things not going well for the two of you?"

Silence.

"But then I always said, she was never right for you."

More silence.

"But maybe Kolya should be your next conquest…so beautiful and such a sweet disposition. Don't you think, Lyosha?" It was Kolya who shifted this time, possibly uncertain now of what would be required of him in the coming days. At the movement, Allegra laughed lightly, raising her hand to pat the vampire on the arm. "Alright…we will stick to old women." She sat back, preening once more. "Now leave it to me, Lyosha. Your little woman is in good hands. She will be the talk of the town when I am done with her…"

Leaning deeper into his seat, Lucian smiled tightly and left it at that. In truth, all he cared for at that precise moment was that she had finally shut up. The one woman on earth that he could comfortably back down from just for the blessed silence that came afterwards. And whatever she said, he knew they would probably spend the next two to three hours at the warehouse while this ridiculous 'femme savante' decided what clothing to drape Reinette in.

Heaven forbid they run into trouble.

A/N: And so we meet the murderer Nikolai and Raze's mate, Allegra. Next chapter, the bloodseer finally gets dressed. That woman has been sitting in the same pair of dusty pants for nine chapters. Thank you to Mackenzie and Original Bubble for the latest reviews! (Speaking of which, welcome to the story, Original Bubble. Glad you like the story and hopefully I'll keep the intrigue coming.)