Chapter 172 - The Vampire Thief part 6

In truth, my pursuit of the vampire thief was motivated by curiosity as much as it was by a desire for revenge. Menoch's death was an outrage. I was not close with the child or his immediate family, but he was a member of my tribe, and more than likely another of my descendants. Or, at the least, a descendant of one of my ancient tribesmen. A cousin, if not a grandchild. His murder could not go unanswered. Yet, I was excited by the thought of meeting another of my kind. I had been a blood drinker for untold ages, but in all those years, I had only known three other vampires: Ilio, my maker, and my maker's twisted pet. Of the rest, I knew only rumors—the name Zenzele, a fabled city, gossip of foul deeds and cruelty. I wanted to catch this blood drinker. I wanted to lay eyes upon him. I wanted to question him, if we spoke the same tongue, and find out what he knew about our kind. Where did we come from? Was there truly a city in the east where our kind lived together as mortals do? Only then, when I had sated my curiosity, would I destroy him.

If I could.

I flew through the treetops as I had never flown before, racing recklessly across the wooded valley, the wind roaring in my ears, the cold snow cutting across my cheeks. I paid little attention to the injuries I sustained in my headlong rush through the wilderness. My skin was sliced open a dozen times by cold-stiffened tree branches, but the living blood healed the injuries almost as quickly as I inflicted them upon myself.

In the middle of the valley was a river, a winding black ribbon in the starless night. I plunged down to the forest floor and made my way to the edge of the water. There, on the opposite bank, were some footprints, left behind by the fleeing blood drinker. I straightened my winter coat—it was hanging askew, tattered by my flight through the forest—and then I leapt across the burbling river, a distance of about thirty meters.

I knelt down beside the tracks and examined them, then stood and glanced up and down the watercourse. If I were the one who was fleeing, I would try to use the water to throw off my pursuers. It was an old trick, but I saw no sign that he had changed course. The mounds of snow to either side of the waterway were undisturbed. There were no tracks on the river's rocky banks either—so far as I could see.

I listened. All was still but for the chuckle of the river. Then, from the south, the snap and rustle of movement in the treetops. Distant, but closing fast. I was certain the blood drinker had not circled around behind me, and besides, what would be the point of that? It was most likely Ilio, though I thought I had told him to stay in the village.

Perhaps I had not.

I waited while the noise of his approach grew increasingly louder. Finally, he sprang from the treetops and landed on the other side of the river. He grinned at me guiltily, then jumped across the water to my side.

"I thought I told you to remain at the village," I said.

"Did you?" he asked. A little too innocently.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I am almost certain I did."

"In either case, I am getting too old for you to shelter me so much," he replied airily. "I am no longer the child you rescued on the steppes."

I laughed. "You will think again when I turn you over my knee!"

He grinned.

"Did you return the child safely to the village?" I asked, all humor aside.

"I carried him to his father," Ilio answered. "They were almost back when I caught up to them."

I nodded, turning in a circle.

"Do you still sense him?" Ilio asked.

"Yes, but he has taken cover. I'm having trouble pinpointing him exactly." The land on the north side of the river rose steeply to a high and thickly wooded ridge. If our quarry had been a mortal man, I could have sensed him easily. I would have heard his heart beating, smelled his blood, sensed the heat given off by his flesh. But he was not mortal. Like Ilio and I, his heart did not beat, and the only odor I could detect was the faint scent of the mortal children he had abducted clinging to his skin. I listened closer, shutting my eyes, then cupped my hands behind my ears. I sniffed at the wind. I could smell the residue of poor Menoch's blood, probably smeared across the blood drinker's lips, but it was faint.

And something else. A scent I did not recognize.

"What is it, Father?"

I shook my head. "Curious... I sense a large animal in the wilderness ahead, a creature I've never encountered before." I lowered my hands, looked at Ilio grimly. "I don't like this. I think there may be more blood drinkers up there. Not just the one we've been chasing."

"What do we do?"

I stroked my beard thoughtfully. "To be honest, I would like to see them. There is much we do not know about our kind. I doubt if any of them can harm me, but you are not so resilient."

"Don't order me back to the village, Thest!" Ilio objected. "You shelter me too much!"

I shushed him, peering into the silent woods.

I stood indecisively, stroking the whiskers on my chin. I was terribly excited, but my excitement warred with wariness, and even a smidgeon of fear. Not fear for myself. If these vampires knew the trick of killing one such as myself, then I would fly happily to join my lost loved ones in the Ghost World. No, I feared for Ilio, and for my Tanti tribesmen. We were so near to the village. What if these T'sukuru decided to make war on my Tanti brethren? How could I possibly protect everyone, besieged by multiple foes?

I scanned the dark ridge again with my vampire senses. Again, I felt that there was more than one being lying in wait for us there, but I couldn't pin any of them down. My suspicion was little more than an intuitive thing.

I did not know their numbers. I did not know their strength. And might they not have strange talents as well, like Ilio? Ilio could learn things from the blood of his mortal victims, an ability I did not share. What might these mysterious blood drinkers be able to do? Yet, I could not retreat now. They might think it a sign of weakness, and pursue us back to the Tanti village.

I cursed my own foolishness.

"There is nothing to do but go forward," I murmured to Ilio. "Stay close to me, and be on your guard."

Ilio nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

We started up the ridge.