Chapter VII: A new friend

Gendflor Silvyrin
Copyright © Stephanie Pui-Mun Law 1999.
Used with permission.

Ten minutes later, Venetia was facing Rusalkan. The young man clapped his hands, smiled and stood up.
"I was sure I would see you again."
"Don't be so sure of yourself. You never know, with me."
"But you're here, no?"
"True enough. But what does that prove?"
"I never said I intended to prove anything. I'm happy to see you, that's all."
"Be careful. I don't really know why I'm back here, to you, so don't say anything that could make me change my mind."
"What could I say to terrify the famous strigoï huntress?" smiled Rusalkan.
"No human can terrify me; I don't like strigoïs, but I don't fear them. But you're neither a human nor a strigoï. You're a nazdravan, the very first nazdravan I've ever seen, and I don't really know how I must behave when facing you."
"Try to be yourself," suggested Rusalkan, a twinkle in his eyes.
Despite herself, Venetia smiled, a warm, sincere smile.
"I'm afraid you won't like it. Please tell me if I'm frightening you: I'm rather bad-tempered and when I'm angry - that is, most of the time - I don't mince my words. You are warned."
Rusalkan answered her smile with one of his own.
"Alright, I'll try not to weep like a lost child."
"Have you ever been a lost child?" retorted Venetia aggressively.
He blinked, surprised.
"Well, no, but it's a common expression..."
"I can tell you that a lost child doesn't weep for hours, mourning on his loneliness!"
"For you were a lost child?"
"How do you call a child who, at three, has to fight a strigoaïca trying to kill her baby sister and who discovers at the same time that her mother doesn't like her and even gave her sister to the strigoaïca? I call that a child who sees her world shatter around her, a child lost in the cruel world of the adults!"
"I call that an unlucky child who saw the realities of the world far too soon" said calmly Rusalkan.
Venetia relaxed a bit.
"That's true," she admitted.
She sat where he had been seated before and looked up at him.
"So, what is it to be a nazdravan?"
"What is it to be a dhampyr?"
She shrugged.
"Nothing, except that you have the Sight. I have no power, compared to you."
"Sure, but a young dhampyr is more powerful than a young nazdravan. You become more powerful when getting older."
"I don't know much about nazdravans' auras, but I feel that yours is the one of a powerful nazdravan. So how old are you?"
Rusalkan laughed and sat by her.
"Did you ever ask a strigoï how old he was? That's the same for nazdravans. We're much like them, that is, they are much like us."
"And a stake in the heart has the same effect on you as on them?"
"My, that's a nasty question! It's very impolite, my lady."
"I'm not very polite either; nobody taught me to. So?"
"A stake in the heart has the same effect on everybody, dear lady: death."
"Sure, but does it guarantee you won't come back?"
"You want to get rid of me?"
"Not right now, but you told me I had to know how to fight your kin."
Rusalkan laughed heartily.
"Not today, beautiful lady. It's a story for another time."
"So you're sure I'll come back? I underestimated you. That's a good lesson you just gave me."
"I hope you won't be angry with me because of that."
"Certainly not. But if you call me again 'beautiful lady', I might forget to forgive you."
She had a light and enigmatic smile while saying those words, so Rusalkan replied:
"But it suits you!"
Her smile disappeared at once and her deep gaze darkened.
"Do I tell you you're handsome? No, so don't tell me I'm beautiful."
She left on that, not giving him a chance to say anything.

During three months, she seemed to play hide-and-seek with Lucy and the others. She arrived at Meran's at around midnight, more or less, rarely left before dawn, spending the hours chatting with him, or playing dominoes, Mikado or chess, and during the day, she played hide-and-seek with Rusalkan, appearing and disappearing without any warning, generally with a smile on her lips, for when she was in a bad mood, she was hiding in a place where no one could find her. She was driving Rusalkan insane: he wasn't sure if she was there or not, if she would stay or leave after half an hour and such. She was unpredictable, he couldn't stand it and she knew it. She sometimes appeared suddenly before him, with a mischievous smirk and a twinkle in her eyes, and he didn't know anymore if he wanted to scold her or to take her in his arms with a helpless laugh. A strange relationship had grown between them, a strong friendship, in only a few weeks, and they were both careful, still surprised by this strong empathy between them. They were sometimes laughing silly and ten minutes later, they were very serious, speaking in veiled terms, as if they were afraid to hurt each other.
At the end of the third month, she left Rusalkan late in the afternoon, waved her hand he had always seen leather-gloved. A movement of her dark cloak and she was gone, by one of her tricks that allowed her to appear and disappear like she wanted.

When she arrived at home, Lucy was waiting for her. Venetia was wrapped up in her cloak as if she was frozen. Lucy ran immediately to her sister and threw her arms around her neck. Venetia smiled gently and disentangled herself from Lucy's grasp to greet Ileni. Lucy's eyes were almost filled with tears, which didn't prevent her from noticing something strange; she looked at her own elbow, rubbed it slightly and then stared at Venetia in wild disbelief.
"What's up, Luce? You look like you just saw a ghost."
"Why... why don't you take off your cloak?" suggested Lucy as if she hadn't heard.
"That's a good idea. It's warmer here than outside."
Venetia kept her smile on her lips while hanging her cloak on the wall, but Lucy turned pale quickly when seeing her sister's neck: it was covered with bites, most of them still bleeding, as if Venetia hadn't cared to stop the blood from flowing. There were older bites, half-healed, but most of them were quite fresh, covering Venetia's neck and blood flowed along the slender throat, staining the black collar.
"What did you do?" shouted Lucy.
Venetia stared wide-eyed at her little sister, surprised by this unusual outburst.
"Why, nothing. I just nourished some strigoïs, since you were busy with something else - or should I say someone else?"
"You nourished the whole strigoï community of Gethsen, you did! Come with me immediately!"
"It's not important, Luce."
Lucy threw her a threatening glance.
"You are coming with me now," she said with a polar voice, separating carefully all her words.
But Venetia wasn't used to obey to Lucy - nor to anyone else - and she shrugged, wiping casually some blood with her fingers.
"It's nothing," she repeated. "A bit of water and a towel, and nobody will notice it again!"
"Sure, for you'll stay home until you're entirely healed. Come with me and when I say now, it really means now and not tomorrow!"
Taken aback, Venetia followed her sister and let her clean all the bites she had on her throat. Then, with the firmness of a mother toward an undisciplined child, Lucy sent her to bed and locked the door. Venetia's voice rang from behind the door:
"I still can go through the window!"
"I don't think so," replied calmly Lucy. "You don't have any clothes, except your night clothing, and I doubt very much you'll go outside dressed like that."
Venetia's only reply was a light laugh, almost a snigger. Lucy froze: Venetia was resourceful, she could have planned it. Despite her strange activities, she was welcome in lots of houses in Gethsen and she could perfectly have a change of clothes elsewhere in town. The idea worried her, for it meant Venetia didn't need anymore this house and that she could leave it whenever the fancy would take her.
"Viny!" she called, running to the door, but without opening it.
Venetia didn't reply immediately. The bed creaked, probably under her weight.
"What's the matter? I'm trying to sleep, Lucy, since you locked me so gently in my own bedroom."
"Promise me you won't leave this house without any warning!" beseeched Lucy from behind the door.
"I thought you were sure this door would keep me home."
"I don't mean now, I mean for later."
"Wait and see, dear Luce. A prisoner doesn't answer of his own free will to his gaoler."
The bed creaked again and Venetia didn't answer anymore to Lucy's questions. The girl finally left, thinking that her sister had fallen asleep. But the following morning, the bedroom was empty and the night clothing was carefully folded on the bed freshly done. Venetia had disappeared once again and Lucy fought back the tears threatening to invade her eyes.

Rusalkan met Venetia at dusk, walking more slowly than usual. She hadn't her cloak anymore and her shirt let her arms bare from the shoulder till the wrist, where the leather gloves covered the hands. Her trousers were thrust into her high black boots and her long loosen hair fell on her shoulders anyhow. It wasn't at all an outfit for a snowy weather. Rusalkan smiled, happy to see her again.
"That's the first time you come to me by night," he remarked gleefully.
Before she could answer, Venetia stumbled; Rusalkan caught her instantly, even if quite surprised: it was the first time he ever saw Venetia slip. She looked exhausted and when he saw her throat, he understood: despite Lucy's care, the neck was still bleeding - most probably because of the two new bites near the carotid artery.
"You're not reasonable, Vixen!" he exclaimed, half-angry.
He had never called her Venetia since the first day they had spoken and he had given her the nickname of Vixen - sometimes shortened into Vic - like the animal, he had said. He would have preferred 'she-wolf', more exact, but 'vixen' sounded better to his ears. In return, Venetia called him Draz, short for nazdravan, since it was the name he had wanted to have.
"Sure, I'm not reasonable," replied Venetia with a weary voice. "But that's how people love me."
She raised up the head a bit and smiled. Rusalkan tightened his hold on her and noticed with fear she was frozen.
"Hell, Vic, you're chilled to the bone! What did you think when about to go out? You're not dressed for such a cold weather!"
"Sorry," replied Venetia, trying to prevent her teeth from chattering. "I saw to what was most urgent."
He took off his warm coat and put it on her shoulders, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around her, holding her against him tightly. She didn't struggle, she only stroked the flap of the coat with her fingertips and whispered with a dreamy voice:
"It's warm, that's good to feel warm..."
Her behaviour worried Rusalkan: she was acting as if she hadn't all her mind.
"Are you alright, Vic?" he asked gently.
"Yes, I'm alright now..."
She snuggled up to him a bit more, rubbing her cheek against his chest, and his arms went stiff almost at once.
"Vixen, we can't stay like that, you'll catch a cold or I don't know what..." he said, growing nervous.
"Give me two minutes!" she pleaded.
Rusalkan didn't dare to protest and they remained as they were, in silence. Then Venetia straightened up and left Rusalkan's warm embrace. Her eyes were sparkling again with mischief and she smiled with gusto, as if these two minutes of quietness had given her the equivalent of a whole night sleep.
"Nice to see you again, Vic," said Rusalkan.
She took off his coat from her shoulders and held it back to him.
"Thanks for being so nice to me."
"It was nothing, but you can keep the coat, you know."
"No, it's alright. I'll move soon, so I won't be cold anymore. Thanks for what you did."
"I was just at the right place at the right moment," shrugged Rusalkan.
"But you were nice to me. Not everybody is nice to me," she insisted.
"Because you don't let them be nice."
"They want to be nice when I don't need them to. But you were there when I needed it."
"I was lucky," smiled Rusalkan.
She smiled back.
"I must go," she said.
But she didn't move. They remained there, silent, staring in each other's eyes. Venetia shivered slightly. Rusalkan held his hand toward her throat, touching the bites scars with his fingertips and she shivered again. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her in his arms.
"Come! You need to rest!" he said with a low tone.
Venetia didn't struggle and laid her head on his shoulder.

She reappeared the following day, in the middle of the morning, looking far much better, even if she was still very pale. She was at her door when a masculine voice startled her:
"Are you Venetia?"
She turned on her heels and sized the man up at a glance.
"Maybe so," she shrugged. "But I think you won't call me like that."
"And can I know why?" inquired the man.
"Sure you can. Maybe I'll tell you someday, but I'm sure you'll find before by yourself."
The door opened and Sane appeared on the threshold.
"Hullo, Sane. Tell me everything: you did warn your dhampyr council of my presence here, didn't you?"
"I don't remember," said Sane, frowning. "You sure?"
"Yup, me sure."
"Why?"
"Hell, they sent one here!"
"If you sure, then..."
"Stop speaking like an idiot, Sane!" snapped the man.
For the first time, Sane noticed the man behind Venetia.
"Hell, they sent him here!"
"The right sentence is 'Hell, they sent one here!'," said obligingly Venetia.
"No, no, 'him'. I know him, so I guess I must say 'him'," persisted Sane, still looking at the man.
She bit her lower lip and turned to Venetia.
"To answer your question, I guess I did. At the very beginning, most probably. Since they didn't react, I forgot."
Lucy, Ileni and Beth-Lynn appeared behind Sane. The man opened wide eyes and said quickly:
"My name is Vladan. I'm Sane's betrothed."
"He's a guy from the dhampyr council," added Venetia casually with a mischievous smirk.
Beth-Lynn smiled and half-lowered her eyelids to show she had understood. When Vladan looked at Venetia, the girl's smirk had disappeared and she showed a dead-pan face.
"But she... well, I mean..." he stammered.
"Oh yes, I forgot. Beth-Lynn is not a dhampyr so she shouldn't know. How rude of me! Sorry, Vladan, but that's not how I work. Tell me, Sane, how did you end up with such a guy?"
Sane smirked in her turn.
"You know, Oranea Mare is quite a little town, almost a village, and, well, he was almost the only interesting guy."
"Sane!" exclaimed Vladan, thunderstruck.
"Alright; Sane, don't hesitate to suggest him some names for me, for I think he will quickly want to use something else than Venetia. Things like Venom or maybe Viper. He will like Viper."
"Well, yes, I like that name, but..." intervened Vladan.
"So Viper."
"Why?" asked Sane, quite stunned.
"Because Vixen is already taken by someone else," smiled Venetia.
She moved on instantly.
"Perfect then. Oh, and don't forget to call me if you need me."
"And how do we know where to find you?"
"You don't. That's the fun of it," grinned Venetia. "By the way, Luce, can I have my cloak back or is it still punished to remain home?"
Then Lucy noticed how her sister was dressed: Rusalkan had given her a thick polo neck jumper which was too large for her but which suited her amazingly well.
"Oh!... Err, yes, I guess you can have it back," replied Lucy discountenanced.
"Nice. You give it to me?"
She took off Rusalkan's jumper and everybody could see her neck, which Rusalkan had carefully tended. Vladan couldn't hold back a cry of surprise.
"What happened to you?"
"I met some very friendly guys," replied Venetia.
Sane took the jumper from Venetia's hands and smelled it. She had an evil grin.
"That's not the smell of a strigoï! Nor the one of a dhampyr. Quite interesting smell, in fact. What's his name?"
"Rusalkan. I'll maybe tell you about him later. So long!"
She put her cloak on, took back Rusalkan's jumper and prepared to leave.
"What did you want?" called Lucy.
"Nothing but my cloak. I have to see Meran now."
"Be careful."
"Sure."
On her way to Meran's crypt, she met Rusalkan.
"Strange how often I see you, now that we know each other," she remarked.
"I was waiting for you. I was sure you'd have come to see Meran tonight."
A flare of fury passed in Venetia's gaze.
"And what do you want?" she asked dryly.
"My jumper," he retorted with a disarming smile. "I knew you'd have taken your cloak back and I'm a bit cold."
"You're not dressed for such a cold weather," grinned Venetia.
He put his jumper on and smiled.
"What a pity!" said Venetia. "I love to see your arms bare."
"My arms are for your eyes only..."
"But?"
"But in summer, lovely lady."
"Draz, remember what I said," she reminded him, feigning severity.
"Mercy! I implore your mercy!" mocked the young man.
Venetia laughed and Rusalkan blinked: she had disappeared once again.

Then happened the third warning from the Triad. During her three months of hide-and-seek with her sister, Venetia had taken the habit of disappearing completely during one week, looking for more information on Damian and his brothers, and she continued to do so now that she was back. Lucy knew better than complain and she didn't protest anymore. When Venetia came back from her last expedition, she was hardly on the threshold of her own house that Vladan caught her by her jumper and dragged her inside.
"Why weren't you here?" he cried, his eyes full of tears.
Venetia looked around her and saw only sorrow.
"What happened?" she asked, feeling a cold bony hand twisting her heart.
"Sane," explained Beth-Lynn. "They got her."
Venetia's heart sank.
"My Sane!" shouted Vladan. "Why were you elsewhere, instead of protecting her like you should have?"
"That's not the right moment for such an explanation, but let me tell you I'm not here to protect Sane. What do you mean by 'They got her'?" she added, speaking to Beth-Lynn.
"They killed her."
"In fact, I'm not really dead, but I'm not what I can call alive," intervened a new voice.
Sane was in the stairs, half-smiling, but her eyes were sad. Venetia ran to her and took her hands in hers.
"God! They dared? Who did that to you? You know his name?"
"Oh yes! He told me. His name is Damian. I believe it's somehow familiar to you. I must tell you that this is the third warning, but the next one won't be so kind."
"'Kind'? Oh, he's too nice!" said Venetia ironically. "Damn, damn, damn! And a warning for what? To tell me to let him in peace, to forget my vengeance? In your dreams, Damian! I have now another reason to kill you!"
She gazed at her friends and then:
"But there's something else, isn't it?"
Sane lowered the head and avowed with a small voice:
"Meran is with them."
Venetia tottered and suddenly everything was black before her eyes. Sane shook her slightly, but none-too-gently, and when seeing her eyes focusing again, she took her apart.
"Promise me one thing: as soon as Damian is out of the game, you'll give me eternal rest."
"Hold on, girl! You're only half a strigoï..."
"And half a fiend. No, Viny, I can't live while being like that."
"That's not fair!" protested Venetia, tears filling suddenly her eyes. "It's me who give him problems and it's you who pay for it! God, Sane, I don't want to kill you, I'll miss you."
"If you find a way to make me normal again, it's fine. If not, I'd rather die than continue to live as a strigoaïca."
Venetia saw perfectly she was resolved to do so and she clenched her fists tight.
"Damn, damn, damn!" she repeated with anger.
Furious, she walked to the door, but Lucy stood up in front of her.
"No," she said. "This time, you'll stop fleeing and hiding. You'll face the problem with us and fight it with our help instead of playing the lonesome wolf going it alone."
"I don't flee, nor hide. I fight alone, that's all," said Venetia within clenched jaws.
"You'll change your way to work for once," replied Lucy, trying to match Venetia's bad-temper.
"No way," growled Venetia.
She pushed her sister aside and left, slamming the door behind her. And once again, she disappeared.

They succeeded in keeping tracks of her, since Gerkelan seemed to always know where she was, no matter the hour of the night - or the day. According to this 'timetable', she seemed to spend a great deal of time with this newcomer she called Rusalkan and she was seen sometimes in the nearness of Meran's crypt.
Beth-Lynn and Vladan almost ended by believing Venetia had become a 'bad dhampyr', one of those who fought humans and protected strigoïs, a naluca dhampyr, as they called them in Oranea Mare. From Beth-Lynn, the others weren't surprised and they knew it was only a façade, since the girl always played the role of the one who thought the worse of the others, even - and especially - her closest friends. But coming from Vladan, it wasn't a game: he was really convinced of Venetia's dark soul, no matter what Sane told him.
"We ought to kill her," he repeated.
At the end, Sane, weary of calming down the game, retorted with an aggressive tone:
"You couldn't. At the first threatening move from you, she'll kill you. It'll take her about... thirty seconds."
Vladan stared at Sane open-mouthed.
"And close the mouth, dear, that's really not proper," she added firmly.
"You admire her, don't you? You admire the Viper?"
"Yes, I admire her. I admire her for her proud yet lonesome side, I admire her for fighting always, alone, fighting every inch of the way."
"You can admire her as much as you want, but remember something: I'm not that weak for a little girl to beat me in thirty seconds!"
"Sure, that's why you're in the Council. I thought it was composed by old wise dhampyrs whose experience was a plus, but it appears it's composed of young fools too clumsy to fight a strigoï in real life. So you make rules and demand the silence, so that nobody will know how incompetent you really are, and you force the others to respect those stupid rules of yours. What you're really good at is to make them believe that's the right way for things to be," said wryly Venetia's voice.
"The Viper spits out her venom!" exclaimed Vladan ironically.
"I was sure you'd like that name," replied Venetia unperturbed. "So, you want to fight me now or you prefer to wait a bit? Now is the perfect moment, I would say: you could boast before your betrothed. So?"
"For the moment, you are the one boasting," remarked Vladan. "But within two minutes, you'll change your tune!"
"Fine. So, before killing Sane for giving her the peace she yearns for, I'll kill her fiancé under her very eyes. That's a nice way to make friends. But enough talking: come here, Vladan. I've never killed a dhampyr, it must be something funny, no?"
"You asked her that?" exclaimed Vladan, looking to Sane.
"Viny, I didn't want everybody to know it!" said Sane, reproachful.
"I know, girl, but he needs to walk on earth again. It's time for him to understand that reality is a cruel world. Alright, are you all here?"
"Everybody who's here, yes."
"Very funny, Beth-Lynn. Seems to me someone's missing."
"Yes, your friend Rusalkan," attacked Vladan.
"That's not very nice to spy on me, you know. Particularly when using Gerkelan for that. Oh, please, don't look at me like that! You didn't think I haven't seen you? Oh God, you thought it! I knew you were spying on me from the very first moment."
Somebody knocked at the door; Venetia opened it and faced Gerkelan.
"Please," said the strigoï in a low voice, "listen to me. Yes, it's me, but I'm here to help you... all of you. I can be useful. Please don't throw me out!"
Even when seeing him so imploring, Venetia's eyes kept their hardness.
"I knew someone was missing," she said with a neutral voice. "Please enter, we were waiting for you."
Gerkelan sighed, relieved to see she didn't drive him away with a stake in the hand.
"Oh, do sit down!" she threw to Vladan, still in a threatening pose - quite ridiculous to her eyes. "We won't fight now. Maybe later, if you're still willing, but, whatever you'll do, I won't fight you as long as Sane is alive - I owe her that - and I hope she'll live for a very long time."
She turned her back a moment, the time to hang her cloak on the wall. When she faced again her friends, the silence became heavy. She was still wearing that jumper of hers with no sleeves and her arms, from the wrist to the shoulder, were only wounds, swollen, bleeding, some reddish, others almost blackish.
"Mm, yeah, you make me think I have to change my jumper," she said quite casually. "Alright, stop to stare at my arms like that, it's very impolite."
"Where did you get that, dear Viper? You met some of your fellow creatures?" asked Vladan.
But he was the one to be ironical. The others had all understood.
"It's the moment?" said Beth-Lynn, hungrily.
"Yup. Tonight is the night."
"Can someone explain something to me?"
"Alright, Vladan. Those marks on my arms - which will become scars, most probably - are the price I had to pay to have some pieces of information. It cost me dearly, but now I know everything I need to know."
"And that is?"
She bent down toward him, looking straight in his eyes.
"Damian," she said softly.
"The Damian who did... what he did to my Sane?"
"That very Damian."
"I'm on your side," he said instantly. "Just to show you I'm not that incompetent," he added quickly with half a smile in the eyes.
"Sure, laddie, sure," replied Venetia, smiling in turn. "So we're allies, huh?"
"Allies," agreed Vladan, shaking the hand she held him.
And Sane smiled too when seeing that.
Everybody wanted to be from the expedition and even Lucy insisted. Venetia grew tired of resisting and said with a disabused tone:
"After all, why not? It may be a very funny avenging expedition."
They had walked for perhaps two minutes when Venetia saw a slim shape between the trees, on her left.
"Excuse me a moment, it'll take me five seconds."
Vladan was ready to follow her so he could spy on her, but Sane stopped him.
"No, don't do that. There's no need to. I know what she's telling him. She doesn't want to compromise him and she's right. He may be useful later."
"Let me come with you, Vic!" pleaded Rusalkan.
"No, Draz. You have to remain clear; if there's a trap, I may need you and the strigoïs must be able to believe you are one of them. Please, it's my revenge!"
"Alright, alright. But you'll come to see me tomorrow morning, won't you? And if I don't see you, I'll alert everybody. I know who your friends are. Promise me."
"I promise. Wish me the best of luck."
"You know I do. Go now, since you must go."
She smiled a bit sadly and rejoined her companions. The hunt was beginning.

Text © Azrael 2000 - 2001.
Gendflor Silvyrin. Copyright © Stephanie Pui-Mun Law 1999. Used with permission.
Set Gothiquesque, from Moyra/Mystic PC 1998.