‘Well,’ said the tattooed voordalak, ‘I am a vampire. And I’m hungry.’ It looked almost sad as it spoke. ‘It’s my nature.’
As the creature spoke, it launched itself at Aleksei. He was ready for it, and yet still he was too slow. He was getting old. He felt its weight push him backwards, and his head banged against the stony ground behind him. His hand was still inside his coat – as though he had become a portrait of Napoleon – grasping the sword but pinned there by his attacker’s weight. He felt the strange shape of the creature’s body pressed against his – the arcing leg, the hollow chest – but none of those deformities served to hinder it. Its teeth had suffered no malformation. Its mouth gaped wide open as its eyes gazed lasciviously at Aleksei’s throat.
Aleksei grunted as the wind was knocked out of him, but the creature chose to hear the sound as a question.
‘You ask why after what I’ve already told you? Well, why not? And there’s one thing you’ve forgotten, three-fingered man; we’re already across the river.’
Its hand descended and pushed Aleksei’s head to one side, stretching his neck in readiness. All Aleksei could see was the monster’s heart pumping faster, its blood blue through a thin membrane of skin which its deformed regrowth had created. He felt its hands squeeze tighter as its fangs descended, and saw the heart beat faster still. Despite everything that whirled through his mind, he tried to concentrate, to ensure that in death his thoughts were only of the things he loved. He saw in front of him a happy scene. He was at its centre. Cradled in his left arm was Tamara, too big to be held like that now, but still happy to be picked up by her father. On his right stood Domnikiia, her hand on his chest and her beaming smile directed towards the child they both loved; had together created.
The image was ripped in two, and Aleksei felt the weight pressing down on him relax. The voordalak had turned its head to see what attacked it, but it was too late. The heart stopped beating and the skin through which it had been visible was ruptured. Aleksei saw the tip of a wooden blade, much like his own, disappear back into the body above him with a slurp that faded in an instant as the creature’s flesh began to desiccate in a way with which Aleksei was entirely familiar and wished he had had the chance to see more often over the past weeks. He closed his eyes and mouth to stop the powdered decay of the vampire’s body from in any way infiltrating his. He listened for the sound of tumbling ashes to cease, but his consciousness was instead assailed by a voice that was inescapably recognizable.
‘That story’s not from Aesop.’
Aleksei opened his eyes. It was Iuda. The wooden stake he had used was cast on the ground beside him. Now he had in one hand his familiar double-bladed knife, and in the other a pistol. The latter was aimed at Aleksei’s head.
‘Why didn’t you let him kill me?’ asked Aleksei.
‘Why should I?’
‘You were happy enough for me to be torn apart by creatures like that last time we met.’
Iuda smiled and glanced away from Aleksei, as if embarrassed. ‘Yes, well, you did rather take me by surprise that time, Lyosha, I have to admit. It was you or me, and I think we can both guess which one I’d choose. In this case, it was you or him. I think the decision is almost as obvious.’
Aleksei was more interested in the idea of Iuda being surprised than in his self-serving attempts at flattery. ‘You made sure Kyesha would have enough to tempt me here… how can you not have been expecting me?’
‘Aleksei Ivanovich, I really don’t know what you are talking about. Now lie down and hold your hands out behind you.’ He waggled the gun in Aleksei’s direction with enough menace to induce his compliance. He placed his booted foot on Aleksei’s back before tucking the pistol under his elbow and bringing from his pocket a length of rope. ‘As far as I knew, you were happily ensconced in Moscow screwing that whore of whom you seem so fond.’ He slipped a loop of the rope over Aleksei’s proffered wrists. ‘Sorry, nanny – must keep with the times.’ He jerked the rope tight.
‘Don’t take me for a fool, Iuda,’ said Aleksei, ignoring the comments about Domnikiia. ‘I know that it was Raisa Styepanovna who told Kyesha where to find your notebook.’ The real relief was that Iuda had made no mention of Tamara.
‘Kyesha?’ asked Iuda, looping another coil of rope around Aleksei’s wrists and tying it tight, before pulling on it to bring him to his feet. ‘Stand up, would you?’
‘The vampire who stole your notebook.’
‘Oh – him! You know, Aleksei, I think you’re about the only person I’ve met in this godforsaken backwater who can manage to live his life passing himself off under just one name.’ He dragged Aleksei along by the rope, forcing him to walk backwards. ‘Did I say Aleksei? I meant Lyosha – though I think I’ve just ruined my own point.’
‘Whatever his name, you know who I mean.’ The rough cord cut into Aleksei’s wrists. He saw little point in resisting Iuda’s movement.
‘I do. I do. But let me assure you, his theft of my notebook was quite a surprise. And you say Raisa Styepanovna helped him? There’s a woman who’s not to be trusted, if ever there was one.’
‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’ The rope was made of long, coarse strands, unlike anything Aleksei was familiar with. He suspected it might be horsehair.
‘No, no. I’d much prefer it if you were to believe I planned the whole thing and lured you here. I’m happy you think I’m up to it. The problem is, it all makes me look quite the fool when you interrupt just at my moment of triumph over Aleksandr Pavlovich. Sit down.’
They had reached the edge of a patch of bushes and a few small trees. Aleksei sat with his back to a tree trunk, as Iuda indicated.
‘And how were you to triumph over His Majesty?’ asked Aleksei.
‘Clever stuff, Lyosha, but let me assure you, on this occasion, you are going to live. Therefore I am not going to reveal my plans to you, safe in the knowledge that you will take them to the grave. Let go of your bag.’
Aleksei’s bag had been tucked under his bound arms as they walked across the hilltop. He still had just enough movement to drop it on to the ground beside him.
‘Why don’t you just kill me?’ he asked.
‘I take it,’ said Iuda, picking up the stray end of the rope and taking it with him around the tree, ‘that that is a question rather than a plea, and so I shall answer it with another. Why should I kill you?’
‘Why else did you go to such effort to tempt me here?’ Aleksei felt the rope tight across his chest as Iuda came out from behind the tree and began another lap.
‘Believe me, Lyosha, none of that was my doing.’ He emerged again and went over to Aleksei’s knapsack. ‘If I had wanted you to get hold of my notebook, why do you think I’ve subsequently been making so much effort to get it back? Why do you think I killed that gentleman who happened to be travelling in your carriage? Why do you think I then followed you back here? Why do you think I’m now doing this?’
He reached into Aleksei’s bag and pulled out the notebook. It looked different somehow.
‘Oh, dear!’ said Iuda, with an air of disappointment. He blew on the cover of the book and a cloud of dust scurried in Aleksei’s direction, only to be quickly dispersed in the air. The fine voordalak-skin binding of the book was no more. All that remained was dull, grey card. Iuda glanced back in the direction of the cave mouth, where he had so recently reduced one of his former prisoners to a similar state of desiccation. ‘I knew there was a reason I’d kept that one alive,’ he said.
He opened up the book and pored over its contents, occasionally nodding as he was reminded of some vital point. It was a full five minutes before he looked back up from it and spoke to Aleksei.
‘Do you believe me now?’ he asked. ‘This evening, I admit, I was expecting you. More than that – I’d followed you. But I have no reason to kill you.’