Chapter 03
Uriel stopped by the steel crate. He put the glass of greenish liquid that he held in his hand on the white end table beside the Sarniikzi before he opened the crate's lid.
A red-haired girl with a green sheen coating her hollow cheeks lay curled inside.
He touched the girl's forehead. The skin under his palm was cold to the touch and free of the fever that had raged in her body for the last three days. With the help of his concoction, which contained his blood, and the Sarniikzi's healing powers, the danger of her becoming an Akilueteer had passed. She was going to be just fine.
A small smile played on his lips as he tousled her short hair before his hand slid over the side of her face and neck to the shoulder. He curled his fingers around her arm and gently shook her. “Jen, wake up.”
She frowned and murmured something.
He hooked his arm under her arms and lifted her up.
The eyelids fluttered open, revealing green eyes that stared unfocused before her as she weakly pushed against his hands.
“Here.” He tucked her under his arm and picked up a glass which he tilted against her lips, careful to let only a few droplets of liquid slide into the girl's mouth.
She coughed anyway and green dripped down her chin. She tried to shove the glass away.
Uriel pulled her up higher against him.
She poked her elbow into his ribs. The glass tipped and the liquid spilled onto the light blue cashmere blanket.
“Who... who are you?” she asked with a fragile, thin voice while she tried to free herself from the embrace of his arm.
He let her go and put the glass on the end table.
She blinked a couple of times, her eyes cleared and then focused on him. “You!” She pointed a shaking finger at him. “That badass --” A wrinkle furrowed her forehead as she crawled to the far end of the Sarniikzi.
He took a step toward her.
“Stay away from me!” She made a cross with her fingers.
“Has that ever worked?” Uriel raised his eyebrows.
Her gaze darted from the cross to him before she lowered her hands. “No.” Her gaze swept around the empty room, her fingers trembling against the steel. “Where am I?”
“You should have listened to me. If you had, you wouldn't have found yourself in this situation.”
“Where am I?” she repeated. A thin layer of perspiration wetted the edge of her hairline, glistening in the light from the square overhead lamp.
He stepped closer.
She shifted away from him then attempted to climb out of the Sarniikzi. She lost her balance and fell sideways.
He moved through the darkness to appear before her, catching her in the last second before her head would have made contact with the wooden floor.
“Let go of me,” she cried out, kicking him.
He gently laid her down on the floor. “I won't hurt you.” She reminded him of a kitten that centuries ago had attached herself to his brother Muriel. It was a small, sweet, cuddly thing that could in a second draw out its claws and change into a small beast, spitting fire at anyone nearby. He squatted down before her.
She scrambled away until her back bumped against the wall, three steps away from Uriel. “You are not like them. Who are you?”
By ‘them’ she probably meant the Akilueteers. “No, I'm not like them.”
“Who are you?”
“You are still not well; you should rest.”
“I'm not going back into that coffin.”
“That coffin saved your life.” He softened his voice. “If not for it and my medicine you would either be dead or an Akilueteer right now.”
She pressed her lips together as she glowered at him.
“Not that I expect a thank you.” He rose up, took the glass from the end table and offered it to her.
“I won't drink it.”
“It will help you recover.”
She turned away, staring stubbornly at the opposite wall.
“As you wish.” He put the glass down on the floor beside her. He had no intention of persuading her to return to the Sarniikzi. She might still be weak, but straining herself as she was shouldn't harm her, and he did have a few errands that he needed to do. First to find a stain remover and then to go food shopping, since he doubted that he would find anything in the small kitchenette and the girl needed to eat. Something light, but sustaining. A stew. A chicken stew.
He picked up the blanket and cast a last glance at the girl who huddled against the wall before he turned and went toward the opened door.
“Where are you going?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Do you eat chicken?”
“Huh?”
“Chicken, do you eat it?”
“Yes; doesn't everybody?”
He nodded before he strode into the white, narrow, empty hallway. Six mahogany doors lined up on both sides, with a double black steel door at the end of it. He left the door of the girl's room wide open, absently wondering about the location of the nearest grocery store. Then he remembered, this house had a housekeeper, an Aradma, the woman who at Nathanael’s request had opened the house for them. He could ask her to run the errand for him. She could also take care of the stain.
“Hey.”
He ignored her.
“Hey.”
He stopped before the double door.
“Hey!”
He looked over his shoulder.
On her hands and knees she glared at him from the entrance to the room.
He put his finger on his mouth and turned forward. Using the intercom to the left of the door he called the Aradma and ordered the ingredients that he needed, and told her about the blanket that needed washing that would be waiting for her by the door. Then he focused on the girl. His eyes slid over the short red hair sticking to the girl's temples and forehead. “You should return to the Sarniikzi.”
She glared at him. “I want to go home.”
“Yes, I imagine you do. And you will. Soon.”
“I will?” She plopped down on the floor.
“Of course. We have no use for Mamaels.”
She leaned on the wall behind her and wrapped her arms around her middle. Her eyes for a moment fluttered closed.
She looked tired. Uriel walked over to her and leaned over her, ready to scoop her up and lift her into the Sarniikzi.
She shifted away. “Don't!”
“Very well.” He straightened and moved to the living room door. He opened it, revealing a large thick white carpet in the middle of the space covering the wooden floor. Two black leather sofas with a glass table between them stood on the carpet and black cabinets lined the wall parallel to the door; the sun’s rays coming through the blinds opposite reflected on their shining surface. The apartment for visitors, with its modern furniture, matched the rest of the house: simple, clean lines and all in black and white. “But if you have to lie on the floor, at least use the carpet.”
#
Uriel put additional spices into the pot, tasted the broth and then, pleased with the taste, closed the lid. He set the spatula beside the sink, taking a glance at Jen, who lay in the hallway, leaning against wall opposite the kitchen entrance, a grey blanket wrapped around her curled body. She dozed off here and there, but otherwise she tried to keep a close eye on him.
He went to take care of the dirty dishes in the sink. He could have left it for the Aradma housekeeper, but for him washing dishes was as much a part of cooking as slicing vegetables or making batter. He liked every aspect of cooking, even the cleaning, but he took the most pleasure in watching people enjoy his meals. He rarely cooked nowadays though; both Anael and Michael had long ago reached the point where their bodies didn't need food.
The phone in the back pocket of his jeans started to vibrate. He pulled it out and looked at its display. It was Michael. “Yes?”
“We secured the west end.”
“Anything out of the ordinary?”
“We found another nest,” Michael said. “How should we proceed?”
“How large? Do they pose a threat?”
“A small one and old; the rare kind that keeps a low profile.”
'Low profile' in Michael’s vocabulary meant that in his opinion they were the sane kind, who only served themselves with a pint or two of blood, instead of drying their victims out like the rest of the Akilueteers. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Try to use them as informers.”
“If you think you can do it, try it.”
“I already did.”
Why wasn't he surprised? “What did you learn?”
“I’ll send you the data.”
“Send it to Haniel too, please.”
“If that's all, we will be returning now.”
“Well.” Uriel's eyes slid onto the girl that now crawled to the kitchen entrance, to eavesdrop, probably. He knew how Michael disliked crowded places, especially ones filled with Mamaels where he, with his white hair and his doll-like face, drew attention, which he didn't know how to handle. Not like his sister, who hissed at anybody who dared to give her a longer look. “Could you stop by the store? I need parsley and sour cream.” He heard Michael sigh on the other end and added, “Please.”
“I don't have any money.”
“Anael has a debit card.” With it, they had access to enough money to buy a house, if not a few apartment buildings.
“It will cost you,” Michael said.
“How much?”
“A pint.”
A pint of his blood for parsley and cream. Not worth it, really, but without those items the stew wouldn't taste right and since he would never serve something half made... “Half a pint.”
“Two-thirds.”
“One-third.”
“Half.”
“Deal,” Uriel said. “How quickly can you be here?”
“Twenty minutes, probably.”
“Okay.” Uriel ended the call and then after he lowered the heat on the stove, he looked at his phone's inbox. He had two messages, one from Michael and one from Haniel. Michael’s contained the list of cities which, according to Akilueteers, had frequent visits from Shadows and a high rate of disappearing Akilueteers. Both pieces of data based on rumours circling among the Akilueteers and since the relationships among the Akilueteers' nests couldn't be called friendly, those rumours could turn out to be lies invented for the protection of their territory. Who would want to live in an area occupied by the Shadows? But since they had already explored all the hints Anael extracted from the so-called Vampire Hunters, they were going to have to investigate any information coming their way.
He examined the map Haniel had sent him, his eyes gliding over the dots marking the cities with Shadows, the majority of them in the former West Germany.
His gaze slid to the girl staring at him. They would leave as soon as they released her, but that would happen only after he was certain that she was well and after he persuaded her to forget all about chasing Akilueteers.
“What?” She wrapped the thin blanket tighter around her shoulders.
“I told you not to sit on the floor.” She had trouble standing up, but she refused to accept his help. Were all Mamael girls stubborn like that or was it just his luck?
“I'm not a child.”
“Do adults sit on the floor?”
“Sometimes.”
“I'm not that familiar with Mamael habits, but I'm not completely ignorant either.”
She didn't reply and Uriel returned to the stove, keeping an eye on the stew while he browsed through Haniel's maps. In his mind he connected the bigger dots on the map and they led him through France, Belgium, and the Netherlands to Oldenburg, and then south to Stuttgart. That would be the path they were going to take. Anael would, of course, again insist that they use the houses of the Damned instead of motels. But since he was not one of the Damned anymore, even though the leader of the Damned was like a brother to him, he preferred a neutral ground. If Anael disliked it that much, nobody was forcing her to keep him company.
True to Michael's word, he and Anael arrived at the apartment twenty minutes later. Anael walked into the kitchen but instead of giving the small plastic bag to Uriel, she stopped before Jen, glowering at her. “She's out already.”
Jen crawled away from Anael, past Uriel, and forced her way between Uriel and the counter.
She really was like a kitty, Uriel thought, as he resisted the urge to pat her on her head as he would a cat. “Yes, but she is not completely well yet.”And she refused to return to the Sarniikzi or to at least use the couch, so he planned to slip her a sleeping pill. He stretched out his hand.
Anael gave him the groceries.
Uriel used the parsley and the cream, then stored the rest in the empty refrigerator, careful not to step on the girl.
“She looks completely different,” Anael hopped on the counter, her legs dangling. “She appeared to be braver before.” She leaned down toward Jen. “Are you certain she's the same girl?”
Jen shifted closer to Uriel.
“Leave the girl alone, she's still weak.” Uriel turned the stove off, took a bowl from the upper cabinet on his left and a spoon from the drawer between the sink and the stove.
“You... you wouldn't be brave if you were in my place either,” Jen said in a small voice.
Uriel tried to imagine Anael in Jen's situation and the corners of his mouth started to twitch in a suppressed smile. Anael would have heavily injured anyone who dared to even think of confining her as she would have completely ignored any good intention behind the deed. He filled the bowl and then before Jen could even flinch, he had her in his arms, bridal style. In the next second he set her into the chair in the breakfast corner at the far end of the kitchen, by the small window covered with blinds.
She glowered at him as he moved to the stove to pick up the bowl and the spoon. He put both before her. “Eat.”
She eyed the bowl suspiciously before she leaned over it, smelling the stew inside it. She took the spoon and stirred the thick brown liquid before she brought the utensil up and pushed just the tip of the spoon in her mouth.
“I have no intention of poisoning you.”
“This is good,” Jen said before she dug into the bowl.
“What about me?” Anael hopped down from the counter and draped herself around Uriel's arm. She lifted his hand, pressed his wrist against her mouth and licked it.
Yes, Uriel knew why Michael had demanded the compensation; to use it to bribe Anael to go to the store instead of him. Before her teeth could break the skin, he pulled his hand out from her hold. “Give me a glass.”
Anael grimaced, but she obeyed him.
“And the knife.”
She handed him the knife.
Jen curiously watched them over her bowl.
Uriel set the glass into the sink and held his hand above it. He cut into his wrist, holding the blade in the cut to keep his flesh from closing while the crimson liquid dripped into the glass. When the blood filled half the glass, he offered it to Anael.
Anael took it and licked her lips before she hungrily started to gulp down the liquid.
A metallic sound drew Uriel's gaze to Jen who stared at him with her face pale. Something glistened in her wide eyes, something that looked like accusation. And fear; he could see it in the trembling fingers that picked up the spoon, as he could see the disgust and hate in the harsh lines around her mouth. She seemed to have just remembered that they were similar to Akilueteers, the creatures she hunted to kill. It was a good thing he hadn’t told her that the concoction he was giving her contained his blood.