‘Where are all the others?’ asked Kyesha.
‘Others?’
‘From the caves.’
‘Ah! Those others. Raisa Styepanovna has gone her own way. You are here. As for the rest – they’re still there.’
‘Still in the caves?’ said Kyesha. Iuda nodded. ‘Dead, you mean?’
‘Why should they be dead? They have long lives to look forward to.’ As he spoke, Iuda could see that Kyesha’s temper was on the verge of snapping. ‘Long, dull lives.’
‘Unlike you,’ muttered Kyesha. He launched himself into the air towards Iuda, covering far more ground in a single leap than any human could. The impact knocked Iuda backwards off the rock on which he had been seated. He felt a sudden panic fill him. Beneath his coat he had a dagger made of wood – a copy of the one he had seen years before in Aleksei’s hand. It would be so easy to use it now, so safe, but he resisted. Any safety such an action brought would only be for the short term.
He felt his back hit the ground. Kyesha was already on top of him and had him pinned down. Iuda knew how immense the strength of these creatures was, but it always shocked him to feel it directly.
Kyesha bared his fangs. ‘I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this,’ he said, ‘but there are two ways that an oopir likes to consume its prey. The quick way involves biting away the flesh of the neck. The slow way involves the gradual but ultimately total draining of the blood.’ He paused, and Iuda saw the lustful hunger in his eyes. ‘I hope you’re not in any hurry,’ he said.
Kyesha would not have seen the look of relief upon Iuda’s face, even had Iuda not successfully repressed it. His head went down on to Iuda’s throat and his fangs found their way through the skin. The entire length of his body began to pulsate in time with the slurping sounds that emanated from his mouth.
It was a fascinating experience. There had been no pain at the initial penetration. He had not yet isolated the chemical the vampire secreted to stop this. He did feel the sensation of blood being drawn from his body, but not enough yet to affect him. The strangest thing was – as Zmyeevich had described happening with Pyotr – the sense in which Iuda began to know Kyesha’s mind. He could see what he saw and know what he knew. It was a good job the reverse wasn’t the case, or Kyesha would have fled the mountains that instant.
Iuda could now see through Kyesha’s own eyes. In truth, there was not much to see; just the bottom of his own earlobe and the side of his neck. More delightful was the fact that Iuda could taste what Kyesha tasted – he could taste his own blood. There was nothing new in that – Iuda, like any human, had sucked his own cut finger more than once, but to drink down great mouthfuls at a time was glorious, refreshing, invigorating. Clearly there were some compensations to being a vampire. In a way, he was sad that Kyesha would soon have to stop, but stop he would, and the sooner the better, for Iuda would still need his strength.
Then he felt it, a tightening pain in his stomach which he knew was in fact a far greater pain in Kyesha’s stomach. The vampire pulled away from his body and raised his head upwards, screaming at the sky and clutching his belly. With a swift kick, Iuda was free of his weight and back on his feet. He felt a little dizzy – more from what he had been drinking than from the blood loss, he hoped. He grabbed the bandage he had placed on the ground beside where he had been sitting and pressed it against the wound on his throat. He held it there for a moment, and then tied it around his neck. He had little time. He reached into his bag for the few items he would need.
Kyesha had raised himself to his feet and was staggering across the rocky landscape like a drunk. Iuda caught up with him from behind and kicked him hard in the back of the leg. Kyesha collapsed to the ground in a kneeling position, his upper body gyrating in a small, slow circle, but never falling.
‘What have you done?’ he slurred.
‘I’ve improved on a master,’ explained Iuda. ‘Your Pyotr certainly was great if he could fool Zmyeevich, but he did it in a very haphazard way. I need no troop of men to rescue me. What you drank was your own undoing.’
‘Po-’ muttered Kyesha.
‘I’m sorry?’ said Iuda, leaning forward to better hear him, and also tucking his dark hair behind his shoulders.
‘Poison?’ It took Kyesha an effort to say even that one word.
‘For you more than for me,’ explained Iuda. He straightened up and had to steady himself on Kyesha’s shoulders. ‘A concoction of my own, devised and perfected after much experimentation. The effect on me, having drunk it, is – I now discover – not unlike the inebriation caused by alcohol. The effect on you, drinking my blood, is far more debilitating.’
‘Will I… die?’ gasped Kyesha.
Iuda cocked his head to one side and smiled. ‘A silly question. But my infusion won’t kill you. You creatures are – as you know – very exclusive in the methods by which you can be destroyed.’
‘So…’
‘Sh!’ said Iuda gently. ‘Now I’m just going to take back a little of what you’ve taken from me. That’s fair, isn’t it?’
He grabbed Kyesha by the hair and pulled back his head, bringing his knife round so that the vampire could see it. He pondered which side of the blades to use, the smooth or the serrated. The razor-sharp edge of the smooth side would be tidier, but probably less painful, and though he had no qualms about inflicting pain on Kyesha – quite the reverse – he had other more important concerns for now. He brought the two sharp, parallel blades close in until he felt them press against the skin, then he tugged the knife back firmly towards himself and across Kyesha’s throat.
Kyesha’s head moved back palpably under the strain of Iuda’s hold as the knife tore through neck muscles that had been trying to resist. Two wide, dark gaps opened up between his chin and his collarbone, out of which blood began to vomit. Calmly but quickly, Iuda put down the knife and picked up the small bowl he had brought for the task. He held it in front of Kyesha and let the blood cascade into it. The flow was slowing already, but it didn’t take long to fill the receptacle.
He let go of Kyesha’s hair and put the bowl down carefully some way away on a flat piece of ground. It would be ridiculous to risk spilling it now. Then he returned to Kyesha, reaching inside his coat as he walked.
The vampire had managed to crawl a little way away, in a hopeless attempt at escape, but he scarcely had the strength to move. Iuda strode over to him. His chest was matted with blood, and the ground around him was stained. Iuda grabbed his hair again and lifted his head. The two parallel lines across the neck where the blades had cut gaped open, but even as Iuda watched, he could see they were beginning to heal. He let go, but Kyesha’s head remained lifted under his own volition. The eyes opened and looked blearily in Iuda’s direction. The lips moved, but no sound escaped them.
Iuda knew that he was decades old, but now, in this battered, vulnerable state, Kyesha looked more than ever the boy he had been when he had first allowed a vampire to drink his blood. Iuda would have loved to let him recover just a little more. Inside his overcoat he felt the handle of his wooden dagger, but then he hesitated. It would be too easy, and Iuda was in the mood for some fun.
He picked his knife up off the floor again and examined it, walking contemplatively around behind Kyesha again. This time there was no need for neatness or precision. He flipped the knife over so that the jagged, toothed edge faced Kyesha’s neck, and grabbed his hair once again.
The blood spilled forth with the same eagerness as before, but now it was of no especial interest to Iuda. He felt its warmth flowing over his hand, but it was hard to distinguish from the folds of flesh that caressed him as his hand moved deeper into the gaping wound. Muscle and sinew yielded easily. Kyesha did not scream, but that was unlikely to be the result of any bravery. It was difficult for a man – or a vampire – to utter any sound with his windpipe severed and his voicebox lolling on his chest.