The Huntress Trilogy 02 The Vampire in the High Castle Read online

  THE VAMPIRE IN THE HIGH CASTLE

  The Huntress Trilogy Book #2

  by

  CHANEL SMITH

  OTHER BOOKS BY CHANEL SMITH

  THE PACK TRILOGY

  Werewolf Moon

  Werewolf Nights

  Werewolf Forever

  THE HUNTRESS TRILOGY

  The Vampire With the Golden Gun

  The Vampire in the High Castle

  The Vampire Who Knew Too Much

  THE GHOST FILES

  Ghost Crypt

  Ghost Town

  Ghost Writer

  The Vampire in the High Castle

  Copyright © 2015 Chanel Smith

  Published by J.R. Rain Press

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved by the authors. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for reading us.

  Vampire in the High Castle

  THE DEATH OF KULLERVO

  Kullervo, son of Kalervo,

  Old man's son in blue stockings,

  Now prepared to go to war

  And to take the vengeance trail:

  One moment honing keen his sword,

  Another whetting sharp his spear.

  But his loving mother pleaded:

  "Do not go to this great war,

  To the clashing of the sword blades!

  He who goes to war on purpose,

  By his own choice to the battle,

  Will be slaughtered in the fray,

  Butchered in the bloody battle-

  Goes to perish by the sword,

  Fall a victim to the blade.

  "Go to war on a nanny goat,

  Ride to battle on a ram.

  Soon the nanny will be tumbled

  And the ram laid low in mire.

  Go home riding on a dog,

  To the homeyard on a frog."

  Said Kullervo Kalervoson:

  'Til not perish in the marshes

  Nor sink down upon the heather,

  Down among the crows and ravens.

  If I die in battle bravely,

  Perish on the trail of vengeance,

  Glorious is the battle death,

  Splendid is the clash of sword blades.

  Battle death is merciful: so

  Takes a lad off in a trice

  With no sickly lingering,

  With no weary time of wasting."

  Kalevala, Rune 36

  Part One: the Weres of the North

  Prologue

  Veronica leaned on the railing of the ferry, looking out over Helsinki harbor. She was not sure whether she was glad to leave the city or not. It had a large underground scene and all she would ever want was available there. But Fennoscandia was not the lands of vampires. And it was obvious why. She shivered. She had been cold for days now. Not that she felt cold, but she could tell the flow of the blood through her chilled veins slowed in this arctic climate.

  The two children were not as bothered by it as she was, but she could see it affected them too. She envied Anastasia's thick fur coat and Alexei's ski suit. Anastasia's garment was a relic of her flight from Yekaterinburg, but Alexei had bought his ski suit just outside the airport. Veronica had not bought one, even though everywhere people seemed to wear them, because she thought them unflattering. She had regretted it eventually.

  She spent just a few more moments watching the dock disappear. Then a gust of icy wind drove her indoors.

  “Fuck, I hate this place.” She swore under her breath.

  “It's not that bad!” said the fair-haired man who was waiting for her just inside the doorway.

  “Easy for you to say! You're warm-blooded and fur covered.”

  “Not now, I'm not!” the man protested. “Well, I am warm-blooded.”

  “You're a dick, Kullervo.” Veronica pushed past him, rubbing her hands.

  Kullervo just grinned and closed the door behind her. He followed her to the large cabin she had procured on the boat.

  The cabin had three rooms, a large bedroom with a king-sized bed, a smaller bedroom with two beds and a living room. It was warm there and Veronica sighed as she entered, still rubbing her hands and stamping her feet, willing the circulation to return to her body.

  “You're going to be in trouble,” Kullervo remarked drily.

  Dear God, this guy never lets off, does he? Veronica thought. She had disliked the old were from the moment he had opened his mouth. He was of a pleasant nature, but there was something very dark hidden deep below the surface. Something depressed. But Björn had spoken highly of him and he had urged her to seek him out before they left, knowing she would need the help.

  Kullervo was one of the Elder Weres. He was born and raised in Karelia and had spent all his centuries in Finland, Karelia, Kola and Ingria. He had instantly recognized the Romanov siblings too. They could not remember him, but he remembered the week he had spent at the Winter Palace many years ago. He also remembered the events of Bloody Sunday, the 22nd January of 1905, when the Winter Palace was sacked. By then, the tsar had taken his family, including the princess and the infant tsarevich, to Tsarkeyo Selo. Many years later, Kullervo had come to the Alexander Palace as well, but he only had a short audience with the tsar then.

  Nobody knew better what played in Karelia, and he had been a trusted adviser to the tsar on the area. But the forests of Karelia and the Grand Duchy of Finland had not been the biggest concern to the tsar and his politicians, and slowly, the invitations to discuss matters with the tsar stopped coming. Until of course, they had come to a complete halt.

  Kullervo had eventually shrugged his broad shoulders when he heard the Imperial Family had been taken to Yekaterinburg. For many years, he had known there would be an end to the dynasty, and that a war would tear up the land he called his home. But it was not a war he wanted to be involved in. Unlike some of the other weres, he had retreated into the Karelian forests again, vanishing for decades. And it was still clear from his manner that he was not the most comfortable being when it came to being in large crowds. Or maybe that was just the Finnish mentality.

  Veronica was tired, dead tired. The cold was one thing, but the journey itself had been exhausting too. The distance had been too great to travel on her own strength, and Ana and Alexei would never have been able to follow her anyway. So they had chosen to travel like mortals. Julia Agrippina had taken care to put them in first class on the flights from San Francisco to Kastrup in Denmark, but after that, they had been on their own.

  ***

  Veronica's problems began there. Copenhagen was a large, multicultural city, where for centuries, all people and cultures of the world met. It definitely had the kind of social scene that she was partial to and always on the lookout for. There were bars and restaurants that catered to the varying needs of a wide range of supernatural beings. Together with Ana and Alexei, she had found one in the Nørrebro area of the city.

  The waiter seemed surprised when she ordered her favorite rare steak and a pint of warm blood for herself and waited for her charges to order.

  “Haven't seen your kind in here for a while,” the waiter remarked as he took their orders. “Vampires have never been the great bulk of the preternaturals here, but the few that there are seem to be leaving the area right now.”

  “There're no vampires here?” Veronica frowned at him. “I thought we were everywhere.”

  The waiter shook his head. He sent their orders through to the kitchen with the tablet in his hands. “From the river
Zaan, in the Netherlands, upwards it's were country. Weres, witches and trolls are the traditional fare in the northern world. Much like in North America really. Before the European people had arrived there, vampires stuck to the warm south, weres thrived in the cold north.”

  “But they're here?”

  “Oh yeah. But then, this is a big port. But go to the other big cities, even the big ports, in northern Europe and there's not many of them. Too cold, too damp.”

  Veronica noticed the man was handsome and from a distance she could feel he was warm blooded. Not a vampire then. But he did not seem like a human either. She looked him up and down, scanning him, evaluating him. Most people grew uncomfortable under her gaze. Even Rand, her lover, had done so the first time. But the man just smiled.

  “You're staying here or traveling on?” the waiter asked.

  “Traveling on,” she replied gruffly.

  “Where to?”

  Alexei answered before she could stop him.

  “St. Petersburg.”

  The waiter frowned and pursed his lips as he thought for a moment. “How are you traveling there? You flying, over land or going north?”

  “North,” Veronica said, scowling at the boy on the other side of the table. If someone was trying to find out about them, there was no point in trying to hide it now that Alexei had blabbed about their destination. Someone could follow them from now, or simply wait in St. Petersburg. The waiter nodded again.

  “There's a very small vampire community in Stockholm and in Turku, but apart from that, you'll probably be the only ones until you reach St. Petersburg. Even there, it’s true that there's not many of you. Plenty of weres and witches, but not much in the way of vampires. It might get difficult to find food if you don't want to hunt.”

  “Who says I don't want to hunt?” Veronica asked savagely, licking her lips and flicking her tongue over one of her sharp fangs.

  “Fair play,” the waiter grinned. “I'll go get your drinks and food.”

  Veronica watched him go. She could not help staring at the man's bottom.

  Cute, she decided. Very cute. I can just imagine that ass in a sweet pair of jeans. His shoulders look well trained too. Not bulky, but well trained. Hey, hey, now. Settle down, girl.

  She caught herself. She was supposed to be in charge of two kids. This was not a distraction she could indulge in. She looked at her charges. Alexei had not noticed anything, but Ana gave her a bright smile. She too had been looking at the waiter.

  She is seventeen after all. And to make things even more strange, both kids have been seventeen and fourteen for nearly a century now. It is not like they don’t know what I am looking at and what for.

  I wonder why he is not the least bit frightened. I just told him I might hunt him and he didn’t even flinch.

  The waiter returned with her steak, cut thin and still bleeding on the plate. Alexei had ordered the same, but Ana had asked for a rare piece of venison. Moments after those, he placed glasses of claret-colored blood on the table in front of them as well. Veronica was the first to pick up the glass. It was cold. Bloody cold.

  “Sorry. Could you warm this up a bit?” She did not really ask; she pretty much demanded it.

  “Sure.”

  The waiter took the glass from her and held it in his hand. He closed his eyes and then blew on the side of the glass. He handed it back. It was warm now.

  “Enjoy,” he said brightly before going about his business.

  So that is why he is not the least bit frightened. He is a warlock. That just about explains everything nicely.

  After their dinner, Veronica wanted to take Anastasia and Alexei to the hotel she had managed to arrange, but Alexei flatly refused to accompany them. He wanted to go and see some of the sights. Amalienborg Slot in particular was of interest to him.

  “The House of Glücksburg are direct cousins of ours,” Anastasia explained as they trudged along the water at Øster Søgade to find their way to the Rosenborg Palace. Anastasia seemed happy. Alexei was actually skipping.

  They are going home. No wonder they are happy. Still, how did I end up minding a couple of kids?

  Suddenly Veronica felt a tingling at the back of her neck. The sort of feeling that she usually got when she was being watched. She turned around, her eyes rapidly scanning the surroundings. There were some people walking in the street, but none of them aroused her suspicions. She stopped and looked more carefully. There was nothing. Then, she thought she caught a glimpse of something moving in the shadows, but she could not be sure.

  Ana stopped too, and came to stand beside her.

  “What's the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  Veronica ran after Alexei, cursing. She caught up with him easily.

  Alexei was reveling in the old buildings. His usual dour expression was cheering up. There was something about the ancient architecture that made him feel at home. Veronica felt it too. The stones of the centuries old castles in the city held a power that she had not felt in the States. The old mission she had stayed at in California had it too, as did some of New Orleans. She had once visited Québec, which felt quite the same way. So many old buildings, with the energy and the feelings of so many people, that were long gone, intertwined with them. It was special.

  The center of the Amalienborg Slot felt exactly like that. She could almost feel the feet of hundreds of conscripts who paraded through the square every year, and had done so for centuries.

  It’s so strange how that feels. Somehow disconcerting as well. But I can understand how it makes Alexei happy to be here.

  ***

  The next morning, they looked at the sight of the city of Malmö across the harbor and Veronica explained to the two kids how to focus their mind and let their body move to their target. Anastasia had tried it before, but Alexei had not. Veronica knew she needed them to be able to move fast if they ran into trouble.

  Ever since the hairs on the back of her neck had risen the day before in the streets, she had been on edge. There was something wrong. Something or someone was watching them. She could not shake the feeling.

  The city of Malmö was not far away and Veronica knew that they could make it there easily. She focused on the city and moved. The world became a blur, but she could see her goal clearly. She moved with a blinding speed, her feet barely touching the surface of the water. At the dock, she stopped abruptly and turned to look around. A shape moved across the water. It was small and coming fast. But a second later Alexei stood on the dock beside her. He looked exhausted.

  “How do you do that? Make it look so easy.”

  “Never thought it about it. Always been able to do it. Maybe that’s it, little prince, don’t think about it so much. Just do it.”

  Anastasia was still on the other side of the Sound. She was hesitating.

  She is scared she won't be able to do it. She'll have to, though.

  Then Anastasia moved. Veronica knew it instantly; she was not focusing properly and not moving fast enough. The girl faltered. Her pace slowed. And Veronica moved. In the middle of the Sound, Veronica caught her and turned. She swore as she brought Ana to the Swedish side.

  They took the express train after that. The kids were too tired. It was obvious. What little color had come to their faces from the feeding and the excitement of sightseeing had drained away. They needed to feed again. But the waiter had been right. Stockholm was foodless.

  If we don't find a place to feed, we will have to hunt.

  She did not want to, but it would probably be the only way. She had of course hunted many criminals and fed on them back home in the U.S., but it would be particularly difficult to identify an ‘undesirable’ in the unfamiliar city. Feeding from innocents was also risky. It was a particularly tricky affair, and knowing how far to go before needing to stop herself from killing was an acquired skill. It was hard to know when to stop. The moment the blood began to touch your lips, you wanted to keep drinking. But Anastasia and Alexei had never had
to rely on those vampiric abilities. They had been sheltered by their royal existence before they had become undead and they had been sheltered by the Watchers ever since then. They’d never had to get used to living without someone being there to take care of them. Veronica knew that she could give them fresh meat to chew to keep them going, but they would have to feed properly soon.

  Damn you, Julia. You could have at least have taught them the basics to survive on their own. It was so elitist to think that the two would always have protection. She just assumed these kids would pass seamlessly from her care to the care of another group of Elder Vampires. She never considered they might actually have to survive in the meantime. Now I need to teach these kids to hunt.

  They boarded the ferry to Turku that evening and the siblings looked gaunt and drained. They needed to feed. Alexei was complaining he was hungry. After days of baby-vampire-sitting, Veronica could not take the stress anymore. There was nothing she could do anyway. There was no way that they could run the risk of these kids feeding on a mortal and killing him in the process. She headed to the bar. Just maybe she could find some tasty nibble to go along with a shot of vodka.

  The bar was crowded. Alcohol in Sweden was expensive, so the boat was full of people looking for a cheap way to get drunk. Being onboard nullified the massive taxes that the consumption of alcoholic beverages attracted, so it was already less expensive just being on the ferry, but most of the passengers would be loading their cars full with cheap liquor in Finland, Russia or Estonia for the return trip.

  Veronica walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of vodka straight up. She was simply not in the mood to put her body through processing something else that did not actually belong in her body, but she had found out a long time ago that clear liquids were palatable for those of the vampiric persuasion. White wine, clear spirits and water could all be sipped in a public setting in a pinch without the adverse reaction that other food and drink were known to inflict. She received the small glass from the waiter, slammed the liquor back and immediately asked him for another.