Chapter 4: "Earth"

The cemetery was a bit outside of the city. It was surrounded by meadows and small hills, and was ideal for her purpose.
Nobody would come here at night, and the staff working at the cemetery was long gone home, too.
Gillian sat on the socket of an statue of an angel not far away from a fresh grave that had recently been filled with earth, and watched her sourrounding.
Tonight he would come for sure.
The smell of fresh earth and wilting lilies came with the night breeze and Gillian stroke some hair from her face.
Don`t become impatient, she told herself, and shut her eyes for a moment. She concentrated on deepening the shadows around that angel statue, so she was not seen. It was quite difficult and she noticed frustrated, that she had to focus continuously to the veil of night that surrounded her, to maintain it.
At Vampire Mountain it had been much easier. There, the shadows had been deep and strong and nearly ... intelligent.
In a split of a second she had been able to delete every light, clench all darkness around her, send out deepest blackness, and even been able to send tentacles of smoky shadows against her opponents. In Vampire Mountain her skills as a shadowdancer had been stronger than ever.
The shadows even had burned the guards at her command, as if sunlight. They had responded within seconds to react on a single thought of Gillian. As if the darkness was an independent-thinking creature, that obeyed Gillians commands.
It was all gone now.
Outside Vampire Mountain, it was "normal" darkness that Gillian had to gather around her, and that was tedious and tiring, and costing her much concentration.
Gillian was frustrated. She felt again like being a member of the Cirque du Freak, and secretly rehearsing as Larten Crepsleys assistant behind his tent, but never becoming good enough for being allowed to perform on stage.
She hated it to feel so inadequate again. After finishing off several opponents, who had been better trained and more stronger than her, with a shrug, she did not want to feel like a beginner again.
Gillian pondered much on why her power was apparently becoming weaker.
She had not been able to form a shadow whip, since her last battle with the green-clad guards at the exit of the palace of the vampires.
Maybe it was because she had been in deadly danger at that time?
Because she had to fight for her life?
Like during the fight with Murlough, when she had conjured up shadows, burning like sunlight, for the very first time. Without knowing what she was doing.
Maybe I need real danger, thought Gillian, and sighed. The old game. She needed adrenaline in her blood to feel really alive.
A noise made her jolt out of her thoughts.
Gillian stared into the darkness and listened tense.
There she heard it again.
A soft shuffle of someone crawling close to the ground towards the fresh grave.
Finally.
Gillian's heart began to pound.
Silently she let slip from the socket, and ducked behind a large stone grave, as if she were liquid smoke.
The creature had crawled on all fours and when Gillian risked a glance from behind her cover, she could see, that it lifted its head and sniffed the air, like an animal picking up some scent. The creature had a gray, sunken face, the skin was stretched over the skull, like a corpse. In the sunken eyes glowed a red light. While it sniffed, it pulled back the thin lips and sharp canine teeth became visible.
Gillian held her breath and prayed that it could not pick up her smell.
But the wind was blowing in the opposite direction, and the creature dropped his head and began to sniff with his nose close on the ground over the freshly piled earth.
Then it began to dig with claw-like hands, so that lumps of black damp earth flew behind it.
Gillian broke away from the grave and sneaked closer at the creature, which focused on digging and did not notice her.
Gillian took her dagger from her boot shaft. The metal flashed softly in the moonlight.
The vampiress approached the back of the creature, the dagger ready.
Then a lump of earth flew at Gillian and hit her in the face. Crumbs fell into her eyes and she winced. Instinctively, she raised her hand with the dagger and ran her hand over her eyes.
She probably had given a surprised noise, for the man turned around and gave a snarl on his own.
Quick as a flash Gillian jumped at him, although she still had to squint one eye.
The creature rolled over and Gillian's attack came to nothing, but she seized on him immediately.
The man drew himself up to his full height and attacked with his claws, hissing through the air.
Gillian ducked under his arm and slammed her shoulder into his chest.
She was strong, but the man was stronger. She was not able to tackle him, he just staggered back a few steps.
Gillian danced sideways, and the red eyes followed her every movements.
Gillian again wiped her eyes with her sleeve and removed the last crumps of earth. The man observed her, and seemed to consider whether he should flee or not. Which Gillian absolutely wanted to prevent.
She growled to distract him, and then did flitt quite a distance behind a grave stone.
Confused, the creature looked around, looked frantically in all directions, trying to figure out where the assailant was gone.
Gillian tried to calm her breathing.
The attack had failed, she had hoped to surprise him and immediately put the dagger at his throat thus to avoid a real fight. But she had messed up the opportunity.
Now she had no choice but to go in a real fight, or flee.
A fight was risky, the enemy was strong.
And starved.
The danger accelerated her heart beat and a familiar tingling in her stomach stopped all thoughts.
She would not give up that fast.
Not after she had spent months of tracking down a Vampaneze. Not after she had traveled from city to city, visiting cemeteries, slaughter houses, blood banks and homeless shelters looking, searching for a clue, that a Vampaneze had feed there. She had listened to news in the media of unsolved deaths and for stories of patients in hospitals with unexplainable blood loss. But she had encountered no Vampaneze, even if she sometimes had had the feeling that she only had missed one by a whisker.
Then finally, two weeks ago, she had met on evidence that someone had been desecrated fresh graves, in this city, in this cemetery.
Gillian had immediately travelled here, but found no trace of a Vampaneze.
She had to wait until the next funeral was held.
And now it was time.
She would not loose her first chance in months, just because she had not been able to take the Vampaneze by surprise.
She waited until her enemy turned his back on her, then stormed out of her hiding.
His senses warned him, and he spun around, but Gillian was too quick.
She nudged him with her left hand in front of his chest, and put all her strength in this blow.
The creature had just been about to turn over to her, he had no chance to keep his balance, and flew to the ground.
Gillian rushed at him, the dagger was lying close on her right forearm.
She nailed the man with her left knee to the ground and put her right forearm with the flashing blade against his throat.
The red eyes looked up at her in horror.
A smell of mould hit her nostrils. "Don`t move, Vampaneze! Or I am moving the dagger!", she hissed.
The Vampaneze froze.
"All right," he growled, as she made no attempt to kill him, although she could have.
Gillian's eyes sparkled.
"I'll let you go now. You will behave. Do not forget, I could have killed you, but I spared your life."
The Vampaneze snorted, but as Gillian gently took the dagger from his throat, he did not move, he just glared cold at her, so that she slowly increased the pressure on his chest, and rose.
She stood over him and looked down at him.
"What do you want, vampire?" Snarled the man. The word vampire he spoke as if it was an insult.
Gillian spread her arms as a sign that she had peaceful intentions, and the Vampaneze crept a little away from her, and then rose slowly, but threw her suspicious looks.
Gillian kept her arms spread out in a gesture of peace, even if the knife still gleamed on her forearm.
"I want you to do something for me," said Gillian.
"Like what?" Growled the Vampaneze.
"Take me to your leader," ordered the vampiress.

He barked a laugh. "Stupid vampire. We Vampaneze have no leaders. We are not like you. No one commands me. No man, no God ... "
"... No prince," finished Gillian the sentence. "I know the phrase."
She leaned forward and whispered: "But you and I we both know that this is not true."
Puzzled and suspicious the Vampaneze sunken eyes looked at her.
Gillian prayed that this was true.
All she knew she had from Kurda Smahlt. Kurda had told her in long conversations, what he had found out over the years about their misguided brothers, the Vampaneze. Gillian did not know why Kurda had confided to her that much. Some of it he had not even told the princes. She assumed, the handsome vampire Kurda had felt comfortable in the presence of a female vampire who, according to Seba Nile, was the most beautiful female vampire in Vampire Mountain since two hundred years. In any case Kurda had clearly enjoyed her company - and practically told her everything what he had found out about the Vampaneze, while he had lived with them.
"You may have no princes and you may not hold court about your likes. However, there are assemblings. And there are those among you, the elder and those who have earned your respect. "
The Vampaneze narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Gillian prayed that it was true what she said.
"How do you think you know that?" He grunted.
Gillian smiled. "I just know it. Take me to the elders, "she demanded.
"And why would I do that?"
Now this was critical. In fact, she had nothing against him. It might be that she had just spared his life. But nothing stopped him from attacking her again. Or trying to escape.
Nothing forced him to come to meet her demands.
But Gillian had worked out an answer.
"Because I have an offer for them. They will reward you if you lead me to them. "
He seemed not to believe her.
"Let's put it this way: if I lie, and my offer is of no value to the elders, then it will not be difficult for them to kill me. I am alone and armed only with a dagger. If the Vampaneze have no interest in me, it is easy for them to destroy me.
But if it's true what I say, and they will be happy to see me, they will be grateful to you, too. They will reward you. You carry no risk. "
Gillian could see, that was she had said slowly sunk into the brain of the starving Vampaneze.
A greedy glint appeared in his red eyes.
He licked his papery lips.
"All right. I accept. I will lead you to them. "
Gillian nodded her head.
"On one condition."
She blinked. "What?"
The Vampaneze grinned. He gestured with a claw on the ground. "I'm hungry. Get to work. "
Gillian frowned. "Dig your grave yourself."
The Vampaneze grinned. "Either you will now fetch me my food from the earth, or I will not bring you to the others."
Gillian glared at him.
Then she bent down at the fresh grave and started to dig reluctantly with her bare hands in the moist black soil. "Don`t you have a shovel?" She snapped angrily.
The Vampaneze folded his arms across his chest. "Nope."
Gillian went on digging with pointed fingers, but could not prevent her dress and her hair from becoming full of earth, when she finally knocked on wood of a fresh coffin.
The Vampaneze jumped down to her into the now deep pit, when she finally had unearthed the coffin so that he could open it.
Disgusted Gillian climbed up and watched as the Vampaneze eagerly tore open the lid of the coffin.
The body of the man inside was several days old and the foul smell of formaldehyde and mold took her breath away.
"You know, that they deposit their dead in fridges for several days before they bury them?" Said Gillian, who felt sick at the mere thought of drinking that old blood.
Old blood was like old milk.
Like curd.
And it tasted just as disgusting.
Larten Crepsley had taught her never to drink old blood, it would make you ill. Only in extreme cases her master would have fed from a several-day-old body like this.
The Vampaneze grinned up at her, and Gillian saw with a shudder as he dug his fangs into the neck of the dead man.
She turned away and tried to ignore the terrible smacking and slurping noises that came from the Vampaneze down there.
Instead, she rubbed her hands on the wet grass, and tried at least to get a little dirt and grime from her clothes.
When the Vampaneze was finished and climbed up to her again, he looked a little better. The skin was no longer stretched quite that badly about his head and his eyes glowed not so scary red in the dark any more.
Therefore his lips now looked like he had painted them with red lipstick.
The Vamapneze was amused of her efforts, to get her hands and dress clean again.
"Why bother? Who goes to the Vampaneze may look like one. "
Gillian made a face, and the Vampaneze barked a laugh, before he was preparing to leave the cemetery.
"Stop," said Gillian.
He looked quizzically over his shoulder.
Gillian pointed at the open grave. "Will you not close that again?"
"Nope," he said calmly. "But if you love to dig in the earth that much. Go ahead. I'll wait. "
Gillian snorted indignantly.
Then she set about to dig earth on the grave again, and to obliterate all traces.