This was the moment Benedek always dreaded. The battle was over. The vampires defeated. He had to face the fact that he had felt something during the fight. That something wasn’t a good thing.
He bathed his acid-covered arm in the white-hot glare of the energy whip Mataias wielded to clear the acid from his body. Venom had tipped the talons Frisi dug into his skin, injecting it into his system. He found he was bleeding from dozens of lacerations, some deep. That was standard after battles with vampires. All of them would have wounds. Each would have to find and clear out parasites injected into their bodies before they could continue their journey. They also needed to find blood to sustain them after the loss of it.
Benedek calmly performed the maintenance tasks. These had been done for centuries and were automatic for all of them. Nothing would slow their journey other than being unable to move during the day. That had been the worst consequence of the loss of their plane. They could have slept while still traveling. Now they were forced to go to ground during the day or if one of them was seriously wounded in a battle.
“Too easy,” Nicu commented. “When has a fight with a master vampire and his minions been so easy? When did it start to become boring?”
Benedek reflected on that. They couldn’t become too complacent, or they would eventually be killed.
“Frisi spent too little time fighting, allowing his pawns to battle hunters and bring him food. He was out of practice,” Benedek said. “Or we’ve been in the game too long and need to retire. In any case, if you’re ready, we have a couple hours of night left to hunt for blood and cover miles.”
Chapter
3
“Silke, Silke,” an excited child’s voice rang out across the meadow. “Where are you?”
Silke’s hands were buried in the soil. Around her, countless wildflowers poked their heads through the soil and grasses toward the sun. The meadow was close to her beloved forest. She enjoyed what she considered gardening. It was really transplanting medicinal plants, bushes and trees close to the protection of the forest. The special flowers were planted inside the protection of the forest but where they could get plenty of sunlight.
“I’m here, Evi,” she called out to the child, raising one arm and waving so her hand could be seen above the taller grasses. “Come help me.”
Evi Van Wieren was considered a wild child, much like Silke had always been. The thought made Silke laugh, remembering how many times Fenja had found her in the meadow or forest late at night, usually gardening or practicing the art of demon slaying. She’d driven Fenja to distraction, disappearing for hours on end, always ending up in one of her two favorite places. When she’d been a child, her disappearances had been alarming. Now, Fenja was used to her spending hours alone.
Evi raced across the meadow, a little dynamo, arms flapping wildly, cheeks rosy red and eyes bright. She nearly ran Silke over before she could put on the brakes, skidding a little as she dug her heels in to keep from hitting her friend. As it was, she had to jump over the basket of black pearl plants Silke was transplanting.
Evi flung herself into the grass beside Silke. “I knew I could find you. You always come here.” She sounded joyful. Triumphant. “The other kids don’t know you come out this far, and I never tell them.”
Silke never told the other children where she went when she disappeared during the day. She liked her solitude. Her time for training and gardening was important to her. This particular section of the forest was a distance from the village, and she worried about the children getting hurt on their way to find her. She loved them and spent time telling them stories and listening to each of them.
Children were a great source of information if adults would just listen. They told what they saw and overheard from their own perspective. Adults talked as if they weren’t present, yet the children could repeat almost verbatim the conversations they eavesdropped on.
Certain children in their village, like Evi, were very sensitive. Silke believed they had gifts, and she listened when they were nervous around someone. Or had taken an aversion to an outsider for no reason, even if that tourist seemed to be very sweet and friendly.
Evi leaned into her, a brief, momentary giveaway that she needed Silke’s company even more than she wanted to be the one who knew her secret location.
“Having a hard day, my little dragonfly?” She always called Evi her dragonfly. She flitted around, usually joyous, a colorful character in the bright hues she loved to wear, but she could be fierce in her defense of her friends—and Silke.
Silke wrapped one arm around the child’s shoulders and then wiggled her dirty fingers as if she might get the bright blue dress Evi wore. Evi giggled but didn’t attempt to pull away. She never worried if her dresses or bright tutus went home smeared with dirt. Half the timeshe lost her shoes or sweater somewhere. It was Tora and Silke who always found the child’s belongings and returned them to her parents, Finn and Emma.
Silke loved being around the children, but Evi was her absolute favorite. She was a joyous child, her attitude always one of happiness and abandonment. She saw good in most things. And she loved the myths and legends in the stories told to her. She saw fairies, dragons and moss maidens, and talked about the creatures often, uncaring if adults or some of the other children teased her. Not many children dared tease her too much. Evi’s older brother, Jelte, was handy with his fists if anyone dared upset his little sister.
“I sometimes wish I didn’t have to go to my friend Julia’s house to spend the night. She likes to invite me, and Mama thinks I should go.”
To Silke, the child sounded as if she were asking if she should go. Evi and Julia had been friends practically since they were born. The two girls couldn’t be more opposite in looks, Evi with her thick, straight blond hair and Julia with her dark shiny cap of curls, but they’d always been good friends. Silke hated to see the two girls at odds.
Silke waited for more. She couldn’t imagine that the girls had had a falling-out without her hearing about it. She hugged Evi and then handed her the basket containing the flowers she was planting. Deliberately, she went back to work.
“I’m listening, dragonfly.”
Evi sighed dramatically because everything the child did or said, she did so with flair. “IloveJulia.” She paused, a perfectly timed dramatic moment to build her revelation. “Andher mom.” Again, the theatrical pause. This time, Evi looked around to ensure they were alone. “Iusedto like her father.” She whispered the last.
Alarm skittered down Silke’s spine. Evi loved nearly everyone in the village. The ones she didn’t love, she liked. The child didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She was happiness personified. Something was very off to have Evi suddenly take a dislike to Julia’s father. Surely the man hadn’t touched her inappropriately. There was no hint of suchbehavior in the past. When Silke was around him, he never felt “off” to her. She generally recognized a taint on anyone who had certain proclivities.
Raik Bootsma made his living on the water, just as Evi’s father did. The two men had been friends most of their lives. Raik was well-liked and personable. He appeared to love his wife and daughter. He’d always wanted more children, but Imka, his wife, had problems carrying. It had been Raik who determined enough was enough when Imka had nearly died when she had miscarried their third baby. He had declared that he wanted his wife far more than any more children. Fenja, a midwife, had concurred with Raik that the risk was far too much to continue trying.
Silke had liked him for his love of Imka alone. And he’d been the kind of father who laughed often with his daughter, putting her on his shoulders and playing games with her. He’d wanted a son like Jelte to follow in his footsteps, to go out on the water and help with the family business, but once he knew he would never have another child, he’d seemed to accept it. He never appeared to resent Finn, and he always treated Jelte without a hint of resentment. It didn’t make sense that all of a sudden, Evi wouldn’t care to be around a man who had treated her with the same affection he did his daughter.
Silke was very careful not to react. She continued planting, indicating a small trowel so that Evi would hand it to her. She sent the child a small, encouraging smile. “Did you tell your parents your concerns?”
