Page 28 of Blood Kisses

There was a roaring in his ears; blackness danced across his vision. Severin had already died once, he wasn’t sure if it was that scary the second time around. He had nothing left to live for and even before he had met Nikolaus, he had been ambivalent about life and longing at times for a stake through the heart. Eternity was a very long time when you had no one.

He held Nikolaus’s glassy gaze and tried to smile. Tried to communicate wordlessly that it was all right, that Nikolaus need not be afraid. Then the roaring turned into sharp ringing, shoes against the cobblestones, a loud cry of rage.

A black shape swooped over Emil like an avenging angel and dragged him away. Severin lay there gasping, floundering like a beached fish with his throat open.

The moonlight fell on Istvan’s face as he gripped Emil by the throat and tried to strangle him. Emil was deadly pale, an intent look on his face as he staggered back, hands at Istvan’s wrists. The two of them collided with the side of the bridge and Istvan forced Emil back over the ledge. He held Emil’s throat with one hand and punched him in the face again and again.

Severin couldn’t move. He noticed the lack of force on Emil’s part and wondered at it, when Emil should have been so strong now, so undefeatable with the stolen vampire blood in his veins. He saw fear on Emil’s face and something else. Something Severin couldn’t recognise on a monster like Emil. Istvan’s face was a mask of pure hatred, but tears streaked his cheeks as he hit Emil.

Finally, Emil fought back. He lifted his legs, gripped Istvan around the waist and pulled the younger vampire off the ground. Istvan scrabbled for purchase with the toes of his shoes. He hung on to the ledge and Emil hit him in the face. Istvan fell forward. The two were locked like lovers on the ledge. Emil’s head hung over the river. Istvan rolled off him and tried to stand and Emil dragged him back.

The force sent the pair over the edge. The two vampires plummeted into the water. The splash was immense but silence fell quickly.

Breathing hard, Severin mustered all his energy. His nose was bleeding. His hair was wet with blood. He crawled across the cobblestones to the fallen figure of Nikolaus. He dragged Nikolaus into his arms and looked down at his ashen face.

The human was limp and cold. The wounds on his throat had slowed to a trickle. Severin guessed there was no more blood left to come out. He started to sob, his blood tears dripping onto Nikolaus’s face. He lowered his face to the twin fang marks and touched his lips to Nikolaus’s pulse. It was there. Slow, labouring to a halt under the weight of a losing battle.

Severin lifted his face and then he cried out to heaven. “Oh, God, help me!” He had no right to ask. He was as Godless as it was possible to get. A damned creature.

He bent his head and slid his teeth into Nikolaus’s throat. No explosive spurt of life welcomed him. He had to pull hard with his lips to get anything and when he did, it was a lukewarm mouthful, bitter with adrenaline and death. Not how he had ever imagined this to go. Severin swallowed, nearly gagging. He sucked again and he felt and heard Nikolaus’s heart stutter and finally, stop. A few drops of rapidly congealing blood slid down Severin’s throat and he withdrew his fangs, pressed his face to Nikolaus’s and wept.

He was dead.

Chapter Twenty

Severin struggled to lift Nikolaus’s dead weight. He knelt on the cobbles, crying, trying to hoist Nikolaus’s body into his arms. The human was so heavy and Severin was so weak. He was dizzy and nauseous, the cooling blood doing nothing to help his energy levels. With supreme effort he cradled Nikolaus against his chest and stood. He staggered to the ledge and looked down into the Vltava. The river’s surface was calm and unbroken, inky black and reflecting moonlight. Where were the two vampires?

Istvan had saved his life, but Severin didn’t feel gratitude. Better that Emil had killed him here. He could not live without Nikolaus. He heard footsteps coming from the direction of the New Town and turned his head. A well-dressed man out for an evening stroll.

“Is anything wrong?” he asked Severin in Bohemian.

Severin shook his head, an accomplished liar. “He’s drunk on slivovice. I’m taking him home.”

The man looked dubiously at Nikolaus’s waxy face while Severin regarded the man with more than a passing interest. He let Nikolaus slide to his feet, propping him against the ledge with one arm while he shot out a hand and grabbed the stranger by the neck. The man dropped his walking cane and fought. He was nearly stronger than Severin. His hat fell off as he stumbled back and pinning him there next to his dead love, Severin penetrated his neck with his fangs and drank deeply.

The blood was a miracle cure as always, but it didn’t wash away his sickness and grief. He swallowed just enough to revive him. He wouldn’t be the monster here tonight, no matter his weakness. He withdrew his teeth and let the man slide to the ground, leaning him against the ledge like he was drunk, then he gathered Nikolaus back to him, managing his weight better this time.

It was a long, slow walk down the bridge, under the tower, and up Karlova to the inn. “Slivovice,” he said to the curious clerk at the desk as he carried Nikolaus up the stairs. In his own chamber, Severin laid Nikolaus on the bed. He removed his blood-stained cravat, shirt and frockcoat, and his shoes, and covered him with a blanket. A fire blazed in the hearth, warming the room and casting rosy shadows over Nikolaus’s bloodless face.

Severin undressed. He washed his face and neck, then he lay down beside Nikolaus under the blanket, shivering as cold skin touched his. The night ticked slowly away. Severin cried out all his tears and fell into uneasy sleep as dawn arrived.

Severin awoke with a start. The fire had burned down to glowing embers and the room was chilly. He didn’t remember what had happened until he saw Nikolaus lying beside him and his dead heart broke all over again. He wept and tried to think beyond his grief. What was he to do with the body? Istvan was gone, perhaps dead at the bottom of the Vltava. He had nowhere to go and no one to turn to for solace.

He leant over Nikolaus and touched his cheek with reverent fingertips. His lover’s skin didn’t feel as cold as it had in the early hours of this morning. Perhaps Severin’s proximity had warmed him, but then the vampire rarely got warm himself. He bent his head and kissed Nikolaus’s lips.

“I love you,” he said. “Always and forever.”

He reared back in fright when Nikolaus’s lips moved under his.

Severin stared down, his heart in his mouth, watching Nikolaus’s eyelids twitch. It couldn’t be possible. Severin had felt him die. A mortal death caused by blood loss and shock, not a turning by a vampire who had drained him dry. He had been too late, surely? Nikolaus had no right to come back. It defied the laws.

Nikolaus’s dusky eyelashes fluttered and Severin caught his breath on a soft moan. Nikolaus’s eyes opened and violet flooded Severin’s world. He stared, frozen, unable to speak or move.

Nikolaus blinked. He glanced around the chamber and then his gaze took in Severin, lingering on the wounds on his neck. “I’m dead,” he said.

Severin bit his lip and tears streaked his cheeks. He nodded.

“Did you save my life?”

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