Page 217 of White Wolf
Two nights ago, the guard on duty down here had come barreling into the main floor of the manor, breathing like a racehorse, babbling about the prince “talking to someone who’s not there.” The poor fool hadn’t known, then.
Vlad had a reputation for violence and valor in battle.
Val’s was for psychic power.
“Who’ve you been visiting?” Fulk asked, and risked a sideways glance at the vampire.
Valerian ate neatly, but quickly, too hungry to turn his nose up at the microwaved fare. He’d polished off the potpie and veggies and was eating the cake one bite after the next. He finished it and held up a single finger. Swallowed, dabbed his lips with the provided napkin – as if it made a difference in his wretched state – and reached for the steaming mug of pig’s blood. He looked pleased.
“They can starve me, beat me, and lock me up with all the silver chains they want, but they can’t keep my mind locked up.”
“Fair enough,” Fulk conceded. “But it’s making the humans twitchy.”
“What doesn’t?”
Fulk made an agreeing sound.
Val sipped the blood. “Ugh. That’s dreadful.” He took another sip anyway. It was that or grow too weak to use his mental gifts, Fulk knew. “Alright, well. I won’t tell them. Fucking savages, all of them. Especially that bloody doctor. But you don’t like them, I think.” He tilted his head, considering. “I think I can tell you and you’ll keep it just between us, yes?”
He’s a first-class liar and manipulator, Dr. Talbot had said of the prince.
He’s lonely, Annabel had said.
Fulk nodded.
Val nodded and was quiet a moment, drinking. Then he licked his lips and said, “Remember that old fool mage you sold the book to?”
Fulk startled a little. “Nicholas and Alexandra’s Philippe.”
“Just the one. The boy he turned into a wolf, Sasha, is still alive, living in New York. Oh, and this is rich – he lives with a vampire Rasputin sired. Very cozy, the two of them. Nikita Baskin, you’ve heard of him? Has a great-granddaughter who’s a police detective. Oh, and the tsarevich is there.”
“The tsarevich?”
Val sighed, long-suffering. “Heir to the Russian empire. Shot by Bolsheviks. Alexei. Nothing? My God, read a history book.”
Fulk shrugged. “So you’ve seen them. So?” But inwardly, his pulse accelerated. He’d had no idea Nicholas’s heir had survived. That was truly news-worthy in the immortal community.”
Valerian smiled, slow and wicked. “I can hear you getting interested, don’t try to pretend. So? My uncle’s going to come back, that’s what’s so, and when he does, you’re going to want allies. Seeing as how I’m stuck in this cage, I thought I’d do you the favor of telling you about the others. But.” He shrugged and feigned boredom. “I guess I’ll just keep the escaped redheaded girl to myself.”
“What girl?”
“Ooh,” Valerian said, eyes springing wide again, “and did you know that Dr. Talbot has a daughter? And that she’s sick?” His grin was awful. “That’s a useful tidbit, to be sure.”
“Val…” Fulk sighed.
The vampire grew serious. “I’m telling the truth, you know. About Uncle Rom. Now that Vlad’s awake…” He shuddered. “Youwoke him up, curse you.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
He smiled again. “A romantic lie. You chose your wife, and your own hide, just like I chose mine, a long time ago. There’s no shame to it, but things have consequences.” He jangled the cuff on his wrist to demonstrate. “This doctor is dangerous.”
“He’s an idiot.”
“That’s what makes him dangerous.” He sighed, looking old and tired suddenly. But there was a certain spark in his eyes, a grim satisfaction. “Just you wait, Baron Strange. You’ll want my help, and you’ll want it soon. You’ll unlock that door, and you’ll unchain me.” He smiled again. “You’re going to turn the devil loose, and trust me, when you do, you’re going to want to be on my good side.”
And the worst part was…Fulk knew he was right.
THE END
