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Vol.1 Vampire Hunter D 14 страница

The other three didn't turn to look at her again, but went back to the buggy.

"Take this horse." Doris dropped the reins in front of Larmica.

"Even children know the cosmic principle, it seems," D said
calmly from the driver's seat.

"What?"

"Survival of the fittest* might makes right—that's not what your Sacred Ancestor used to say. Larmica's eyes bulged, but a moment later she laughed out bud. "Not only are you sickeningly soft-hearted, but it appears you're given to delusions as well. Did you mention the Sacred Ancestor? There's no chance a lowly creature like you would know someone of his greatness. He who made our civilization, our whole world, and the laws by which we ruled. Every one of us faithfully followed his words."

"Every one of you? Then why was the poor old bastard always so troubled..."

"The poor old bastard? You mean... No, you couldn't..." Larmica's voice carried a hint of fear. She recalled a certain plausible rumor that had been whispered at a grand ball at the castle when she was just a child.

"Such skill, and such power... Might it be that you are..."

The whip cracked.

When the buggy had dashed off leaving only the tortured squeal of its tires in its wake, the daughter of the Nobility forgot all about gathering the reins of the horse before her as she stood stock still in the moonlight.

"Milord, might it be..."

T he next day, Dan and D accompanied Doris when she went out to claim Dr. Ferringo's body. They then paid a call on the sheriff and entrusted him with the remains before bringing all of Rei-Ginsei and Greco's misdeeds to light.

Having received a communique from the village of Pedros about the Frontier Defense Force, the sheriff had been out to the ruins himself and discovered the trio of lurid corpses there. Based on Doris' testimony, he concluded Rei-Ginsei's gang was connected to the disappearance of the FDF patrol. In an attempt to ascertain the whereabouts of that patrol, special deputies rushed off to the neighboring villages.

"Well, Rei-Ginsei won't be at large for long now. Of course, there's also a good chance he made like the wind last night right after you lopped off his cabbage-collector."

On the way back to the farm, Doris' expression was sunny— she had at least one of her problems taken care of. But D told her simply, "If he becomes a Noble, he could lose all his limbs and still be a threat."

Rei-Ginsei had ambitions of joining the Nobility. Given his skill and scheming nature, to say nothing of a vindictiveness that put a serpent to shame, it was unthinkable that he would run off with his tail between his legs, or quit before he'd achieved his ends. He may have fled, but it was clear he'd hidden himself somewhere and would be vigilantly watching what they did. He might still carry out the Count's orders.

A daylight foe—because of him, D's movements were greatly restricted. Up until now, he'd only had to worry about taking up his blade by night. But now, it would be patently impossible to go attack the Count in his castle and leave Doris and Dan under the scrutiny of an appreciable foe who possessed both weird weapons and even stranger skill.

"Still, it's too bad they didn't lock that bastard Greco up," Dan muttered.

The sheriff was wrapped up in the Rei-Ginsei case, but couldn't get to the bottom of Greco's activities. The three of them had accompanied the lawman to the mayor's house to question him, but the thoroughly disgusted mayor appeared and informed them that Greco had returned quite agitated the previous night, grabbed all the money in the house as well as the combat suit that'd just come back from the repair shop, and took off on his horse. The sheriff had Doris and the others wait in his office while he checked with some of Greco's partners-in-crime but they all said they didn't know where he was.

Rei-Ginsei and Greco—with the whereabouts of both of them unknown there was little the sheriff could do. He informally sent Greco's description to the other villages and requested that if the man was found, he was to be detained for having important information about the murder of Dr. Ferringo.

"But we can't charge him in this case," the sheriff told a visibly dissatisfied Doris. "From what you tell me, it seems Doc was killed by this Noble girl. And as for the matter of being turned into a vampire in the first place—well, even now it's not clear if a person suffers any harm when that happens. I wish to hell the Capital would give us a clear ruling on that..." Doris nodded reluctantly.

It was unclear whether or not turning someone into a vampire could be considered murder. From one perspective, the change merely caused a shift in personality, not an absolute loss of life. The question dogged mankind throughout history, remaining undecided to this very day. Consequently, Greco couldn't be charged with a crime, even though he didn't inform the sheriff when he knew the Count was going to "kill" Dr. Ferringo.

"Quite the contrary, in the eyes of the law Greco might be considered a hero for rescuing you." Seeing Doris' slender eyebrows rise in wrath, the sheriff hurriedly added, "And while I don't have any authority to get caught up in personal squabbles..." The rest was implied—when I find the weasel, I'm gonna belt him good. Doris and Dan looked at each other and grinned.

Doris found herself in the first peaceful lull since the Count had attacked her.

There was a mountain of work to be done. Synthesized protein harvested by the robots had to be put into packages, stacked at the edge of the garden, and covered with a water-repellent tent until the traveling merchant made his monthly call. The Langs didn't sell it, but rather traded it for daily necessities. The protein Doris and Dan grew was well known for its density, and the merchant always gave them an exceptional rate in trade for it. The milking and general care of the cows had been neglected as well. Of course, the village of Ransylva was where most of that was traded; even though she'd been shut out of all the shops, she couldn't let the cows go any longer. Doris' battle with the Count didn't put food on the table. With Dan and a battered robot to help her, the job

would've taken three whole days, but D did it in half a day. He skillfully poured huge bowls of milky protein extract into

plastic packages, and then carried them from the processing area to the garden when he had a pile of a certain size. The boxes weighed a good seventy pounds each, and he carried three of them at a time. When he first saw it, Dan bugged out his eyes and exclaimed, "Wow!" but after three straight hours of this superhuman toting, his jaw dropped and he was left speechless.

The speed with which D milked the cows was almost miraculous. In the time it took Doris to do one cow, he did three. And that was only using his left hand. His right hand was left empty to go for the sword by his side at any time. That was the way Hunters were.

I wonder what land of family he comes from?

It wasn't the first time this question had occurred to her, but it hadn't been answered in the days they'd been righting, and even then Doris hadn't had the time ask anyway. Actually, it was the code of the Frontier that you didn't go poking into the background of travelers, and D's bearing in particular didn't invite questions.

Doris watched D's profile with a distant look in her eyes as he silently worked one hand on the cow, the white fluid collecting in an aluminum-plated can. The scene seemed so familiar; maybe it was the girl's feverish, young heart that made her feel like it would go on this way forever. While it wasn't that long ago that Doris had lost her father--and her battle to protect her brother and the farm began--she suddenly realized how exhausted she was.

"Done. Aren't you finished yet?"

At D's query, Doris returned from her fantasies. "Er, no, I'm done here."

As she stood up and pulled the can out from under the cow, she felt as if she was naked before him.

"Your face is flushed. You coming down with a cold or something?"

"No, it's not. It must just be the sunset." The interior of the bam was stained red. "I see. The Count will probably come here again. You'd be eat early and get Dan to bed." "I suppose you're right."

Doris grabbed the handle of the can with both hands and carried it to one side of barn. For some reason she had no strength "Leave it. I'll carry it," D said, having seen how wobbly her legs were.

"I'll be fine!"

Her tone was so rough she surprised herself. Tears rolled out with the words. Dropping the can to the ground, she ran out sobbing.

As D went after her—though his casual pace hardly made it seem like pursuit—Dan trained an apprehensive gaze on him from the porch.

"Sis ran around back crying. You two have a fight or something?"

D shook his head. "No. Your sister's just worried about you." "You know, someone told me a man shouldn't make women cry."

D smiled wryly. "You're right. I'll go apologize." Taking a few steps, D then turned to Dan again. "You still remember that promise you made, do you?" "Yep."

"You're eight now. In another five years, you'll be stronger than your sister. Don't forget."

Dan nodded. When he raised his face, it was shining with tears.

"Are you gonna go away, D? Once you've killed the Count, I mean."

D disappeared around back without giving an answer. Doris was leaning against the fence. Her shoulders were quaking.

D's footsteps didn't make a sound as he went and stood behind her.

A cool breeze played through the grassy sea beyond the fence and through Doris' black tresses. "You should go back to the house." Doris didn't reply, but after a bit she mumbled, "I should've looked for someone else. Once you're gone, I won't be able to live like I did before. That milking can just now—I used to be able to carry two at a time. I won't be able set Dan straight when he needs it, or have the strength to fend off any fellahs who come out here courting me. But you're gonna go just the same."

"That was the deal. That will end your sorrow That or my death."

"No!" Doris suddenly buried her face in his muscular chest. "No, no, no."

She didn't know what she was protesting. Nor did she know why she cried. Neither the young woman weeping—as if weeping could keep a phantom from vanishing—nor the young man with the melancholy air supporting her moved for the longest time. And then, after a little while...

Doris lifted her face suddenly. Just above her head, D had started to growl softly. Doris was about to ask, "What is it?" when her head was forced back against his chest by his formidable strength. A few seconds more passed.

The two silhouettes were fused in the red glow, but from between the two of them came the words, "I'm okay now," in a feverish voice.

Nothing else was said, and soon D gently pushed Doris away and quickly walked back toward the house.

As he rounded the corner of the barn, a voice said teasingly, "Why didn't you drink her blood?" It originated around his waist.

"Shut up." For once D's voice bore undisguised emotion.

"The girl knew. She knew what you wanted. Oh, now don't you make that face with me. You can fight it all you like, but

You've got the blood of the Nobility in the marrow of your bones. The fact that when you fancy a woman you're more interested in latching onto her pale neck instead of getting her in the sack is proof of that."

It was true. When Doris had bared her soul to him, and he felt her warm body sobbing against his chest, D's expression became the same lurid vampire visage he'd worn when he drank the blood of the Midwich Medusas in the darkness of the subterranean aqueduct. But somehow, with his truly impressive willpower, he'd managed to tight the urge this time.

As D kept walking, the voice said to him, "The girl saw your other face. Not just that, but 1 bet she smelled your breath as it brushed her neck. Smelled the scent of your cursed blood. And still she said she didn't mind. Go easy on the nice guy routine. You fight your own desire and deny the wishes of the girl—is that any way for a grown dhampir to act? You're always on the run— from your blood, and from the people who want you. When you tell them you were fated to part, that's just dressing it up in a pretty excuse. Listen to me. Your father—"

"Shut up." The words D said were the same as a moment earlier, but the eerie aura behind them made it plain this was far more than just a threat. The voice fell silent. Climbing the stairs to the porch, D turned a thoughtful gaze to the prairie and muttered, "Still, I've got to go—go and find him."

"Oh, shit!"

As D's hard gaze filled the lenses' field of view, a shadowy figure hurriedly ducked, afraid that D would see him. But he forgot he was now on a hill a good thousand feet away. It was none other than the mayor's hell-raising son Greco, who most believed to have long since fled the village. He was wearing combat suit.

That son of a bitch gets to have all the fun," Greco said, stemming his electronic binoculars against the ground. The

previous night, after deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he'd come up to the top of this hill and kept an eye on the farm. Lying flat on his belly, he reached over to his saddlebags and pulled the Time-Bewitching Incense out from among the food and provisions packed in there.

"Heh, you'll get yours once the sun's down. I'll use this baby to get you down crawling on the ground, then nail you with a stake. Then yours truly will take Doris by the hand and kiss this godforsaken shithole goodbye," he said spitefully, turning his eyes toward the farm again. The previous night he'd been so scared by the Count and his werewolf that he'd abandoned all thought of killing them and decided to abduct Doris instead. And clearly, the person he talked about dispatching with a stake was D.

"I wonder if it'll go as smoothly as all that?" The words rained down on Greco in a cool voice.

"What the—?!"

Looking up, Greco saw a handsome young man sitting on a branch directly overhead. He wore an innocent smile, but his left arm was missing below the elbow, and its stump was wrapped in a bloody white cloth. He needed no introduction. And yet, less than twenty-four hours after losing one arm he'd climbed up into a tree and scared the daylights out of Greco while looking no worse for wear; aside from a little darkness around his eyes. What strength he had, both physically and mentally! Rei-Ginsei got back down to the ground without making a sound.

"Wh... what the hell do you want?"

"Don't play the innocent. I'm the rightful owner of that candle. Thanks to you, I lost my arm. I came out to the farm in the hopes of encountering the Count, but lost and behold, I've run across someone else of interest to me. So, are the three of them still hale and hearty?"

His speech was refined, but Greco felt a crushing coercion in it that left him bobbing his head in agreement.

"I suspected as much. In which case, I shall have to score

some quick points here if I'm to be made one of them." After that enigmatic statement, the handsome young man addressed Greco with familiarity. "What do you say to joining forces with me?"

"Work with you?"

"From what I observed up in the tree, you seem obsessed with the young lady on the farm. Yet her bodyguard remains an obstacle. I have another reason for wanting him out of the way What say you?"

Greco hesitated.

Rei-Ginsei chided him. "Are you certain you can finish him, even with the candle and your combat suit? With your skill?"

Greco was at a loss for an answer. That was exactly why he hadn't gone down and abducted Doris yet. Thanks to the effect it had on the Count's daughter, he'd been able to verify that Time-Bewitching Incense was highly effective against pure vampires, but when it came to a half-human dhampir, he didn't have much confidence. He'd donned the combat suit, but since it was just back from the repair shop he wasn't used to wearing it or using it, and if he had to call upon its power, it was doubtful he could use it to its full potential. "You mean to say, if I hook up with you, we might be able to do this?" His words were proof enough he'd fallen under Rei-Ginsei's spell.

Killing his smile, the handsome young man nodded. "Indeed. Once the sun has set I shall fight him, so watch for the right moment to light the candle, if you please. Should he leave himself open for even an instant, well, that's where my blades come in," he said, pointing to the shrike-blades on his hip. Greco made up his mind. "Sure... but what happens after that?"

"After that?"

"I know you're planning on handing the girl over to the Count, but that's exactly what I've been busting my hump to keep from happening."

"In that case, take her and flee," Rei-Ginsei said casually.

Seeing the now-stupefied Greco, he added, "I merely promised him I would slay the dhampir. I don't care a whit whose property the girl becomes. That matter is between yourself and the Count, is it not? But you being a fellow human and all, if you like I shall tell my compatriots scattered across the Frontier to aid you in your flight from the Count."

"Would you really?" Greco's tone had become an appeal. The question of how he could shake the pursuing Noble if he managed to make good his escape with Doris was a point of concern for him. But why on earth would Rei-Ginsei say such a thing to him? Because he wasn't sure that just getting the Time-Bewitching Incense would be enough to beat D.

The indescribable swordplay the Hunter displayed as he made good his promise to dispatch three of the superhuman gang leader's valued henchmen in less than fifteen seconds each, and the invincibility he demonstrated in getting to his feet again espite the sword sticking out of his belly—the mere thought of these things was enough to give Rei-Ginsei gooseflesh. Just to be prepared for any eventuality, he decided to use the stupid little hood he'd found. Once D had been slain, Greco would have outlived his usefulness, and he would be crushed like an insect. "Well, I believe we have a bargain then." Rei-Ginsei flashed a smile so beautiful it would put a flower to shame, and held out his remaining hand.

"Um, okay." Greco hesitated to take his hand. "But I don't completely trust you yet. Just so we're clear, if you try anything funny I'll wreck the candle on the spot."

''Fair enough."

"Then that's just great."

They shared a firm handshake.

The round moon rose. Strangely large and white, the unsettling lunar disc sent wild waves of anxiety across the hearts of all who looked up at it. An old farmer named Morris snapped awake when he felt a chill. Sitting up in bed, the old man looked to the bedroom window and felt his hair rising on end. The window he was certain he'd locked was open now.

But that wasn't what terrified the old man.

His granddaughter Lucy, whom he'd looked after since she'd lost her parents in an accident, stood by the window in her little nightgown, staring at her grandfather with vacant eyes. Her face was paler than the moonlight spilling in through the window.

"Lucy, what's the matter?"

When he noticed the twin streaks of red coursing down his granddaughter's throat, the old man froze in his bed.

"I am... Count Lee," Lucy mumbled. In a man's voice! "Give me Doris Lang... If you do not... tonight, tomorrow night... every night the ranks of the living-dead shall swell

And then his granddaughter collapsed on the floor.

A fter dinner, Dan had been inseparable from D, but even he couldn't resist the sandman indefinitely, and he had to retire to his room. Doris disappeared into her own bedroom, leaving D alone in the living room, which was lit only by stark moonlight. He'd been sleeping there since the first night, since he said the room to the back of the house was too cramped. He lay on the sofa, his eyes cold and clear as ice. The hour was nearing eleven Night.

A white light flickered. The bedroom door opened, and Doris stepped out. A threadbare bath towel covered her from her breasts to her thighs. Crossing the living room without a sound, she stood before the sofa. Her ample bosom was heaving. Taking two deep breaths, Doris let the towel fall.

Unmoving, unblinking, D fixed his eyes on the girl's naked form. Her well-proportioned and slightly muscled body wasn't yet endowed with all a woman's sensuality, but it had more than enough of the pale virgin charm that always took men's

breath away.

"D..." Doris' voice caught in her throat.

"I haven't finished my work here."

"I'll pay you in advance. Take it..."

Before he could even speak, her warm flesh was on top of him and her sweet breath was tickling his nose.

"Hey, I'm..."

"The Count's gonna come again," Doris panted. "And this time it's gonna get settled—at least, that's the feeling I get. I probably won't get a chance to give you your reward—so take me, suck my blood, do whatever you like to me."

D's hand brushed the girl's lengthy tresses aside, exposing the face they'd hidden to the night air. Their lips met.

For a few seconds they remained together—and then D sat up quickly. His eyes raced to the window. That way lay the main gate.

"What is it? The Count?" Doris' voice was taut.

No. I sense two groups. The first is a pair, and the second— there's a lot of them. Fifty, no, close to a hundred strong."

A hundred people?!"

Go wake up Dan." Doris disappeared into her bedroom.

N ear the gate to the farm, a pair of silhouettes suddenly halted their horses and looked back across the prairie. Countless points of light swayed closer; coming from the direction of town. As the pair strained their ears, they could hear a rumble

of voices that bordered on rage, mixed with the beating of

numberless hooves.

"What could that be?" mumbled Rei-Ginsei.

"Folks from town. Something must've happened," Greco said,

watching the points of light nervously. Those were flaming torches.

"At any rate, we'd do well to conceal ourselves and see what transpires."

The two of them quickly melted into the shadows of the farm's fence.

They didn't have long to wait; the procession of villagers assembled before the entrance to the farm shortly after they'd hidden themselves. Greco's brow furrowed. Leading the pack was his father, Mayor Rohman. Steam was rising from his bald pate. Around him were his family's hired hands, all armed to the teeth with crossbows and laser rifles; the villagers carried spears and rifles as well.

More than half of them looked like they'd just been dragged out of bed, dressed in pajamas and slippers. Humorous as it appeared, it testified to exactly how serious the situation had become. The shadows of hatred and fear fell heavily on every face.

This was a mob. There was no sign of the sheriff.

"Doris! Doris Lang! Turn this barrier off," the mayor roared in front of the gate.

A light went on in one window of the house.

Soon after, a pair of figures loomed on the front porch.

"What in the blazes is your business at this hour of the night! You bring the whole damn town out here to rob the place or something?" That was Doris' voice.

"Just turn the barrier off already! Then we'll discuss it," the mayor bellowed back.

"It's already off, you moron. You gonna stay out there all night?"

A number of fiery streaks shot out from around the mayor, melting the chain off the gate.

The crowd spilled into her front yard.

"Hold it right there! Come any closer and I'll shoot you dead!" More than Doris' threat, more than the laser rifle propped against her shoulder; it was the sight of D standing there behind

her that checked the crazed mob and stopped them ten feet shy

of the porch.

To cow a group, you had to take aim at a person at the center of their rampage and carefully cut them off from the others. Just as her father had taught her, Doris aligned the barrel of her laser rifle perfectly with the mayor's breastbone, letting the promise that she wouldn't give an inch flood through her entire being.

"Okay, I want some answers. What's your business? And where the heck's the sheriff? I'm warning you right now, if he's not here I don't owe you a good answer no matter what kind of complaint you got. Dan and I both pay our taxes."

"That pain in the ass got slapped around a little and thrown in his own jail. We'll let him out again once we've taken care of the lot of you," the mayor said with disgust. And then, still glaring at Doris, he gave a wave of one hand. "Come on, show her."

The crowd parted and a hoary-headed old man stepped to the fore. In his arms he held a little girl with braids in her hair.

"Mr. Morris, is Lucy..." Doris began, but swallowed the rest of her words. Two repugnant streaks of blood marked the girl's paraffin-pale throat.

"There are more."

With the mayor's words as their cue, two pathetic couples came forward.

The miller Fu Lanchu and his wife Kim, the huntsman Machen and his spouse—both couples were in their thirties, though the wives of both men were still renowned in the village for their beauty. The sight of the women—now held up by their husbands as their vacant eyes pointed to the heavens and fresh blood dripped down their throats—told Doris everything. "The Count did this, the ruthless bastard..." "That's right," Machen said with a nod. "The wife and I were tuckered out from a hard day's work, and headed off to bed early. Not long after that, I woke up feeling chilled and found my wife not by my side where she should be but standing over nex to a wide open window, glaring at me with these burning eyes. And when I jumped out of bed to see what the hell was going on--"

The miller Lanchu picked up where Machen left off. "All of a sudden my wife said in a man's voice, 'Give me Doris Lang. If you don't, your wife will remain like this forever, neither alive nor dead.' He said those exact words."

"The moment she stopped speaking, she just keeled over, and she hasn't moved or spoken since!" Machen's voice was a veritable scream. "I rushed to take her pulse, but there wasn't a trace of one. She's not breathing either. And yet, her heart's still beating."

"Now, I didn't believe any of what Greco was saying," said Mr. Morris. "Knowing you, I figured if some vampire had bit you, you'd have done away with yourself. Why, if it was true, I thought I'd lend what aid an old fool could and help you destroy our lord. But why did my granddaughter Lucy have to suffer in your place... She's only five!"

The old man's teary, grief-stricken appeal gradually brought down the barrel of Doris' weapon. Her voice now stripped of its willfulness, Doris asked, "So what are you saying we should do?"

The mayor turned his dagger-filled gaze at D. Stroking his bald head, he said, "First, chase the punk behind you off your farm. Next, you're going into the asylum. I'm not saying we're going to grab you and give you to the Count as tribute or anything as heartless as all that. But you've got to follow the law of the village. In the meantime, we'll take care of the Count."

Doris vacillated. What the mayor proposed had its merits. Since she'd been bitten by a vampire, the only thing that kept her out of the asylum was the aid of Dr. Ferringo and the sheriff. Now the elderly physician was dead, and the sheriff wasn't here-But there were three people here who'd been made living-dead in her stead, and lots of villagers with hate-filled eyes. Her rifle drooped limply to the floor.

"Take her away," the mayor commanded triumphantly.

And at that moment, D said, "How will you take care of him?"

The buzz of the mob, which had gone on incessantly during Doris' discussion with the mayor, came to an immediate halt. Hatred, horror, menace—as they gazed upon him with every emotion they felt toward the unknown, Vampire Hunter D slowly made his way down the porch stairs with his sword over his shoulder. The mob shrank back without a word. All except for the mayor. The instant D's eyes caught him, he became utterly paralyzed. "How will you take care of him?" D asked again, stopping a few paces away from the mayor.

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