The pair laughed. Gavner heard the laughter – his senses were much sharper than a human’s – and he paused to smile in the direction of the couple who had been the only real parents he’d ever known. (He tried not to think about the nights when he had served as Tanish Eul’s surrogate son. While he would never speak ill of Tanish, who had been nothing but loving to Gavner, he was ashamed that he had not seen through the killer’s mask.)
Larten and Vancha March had helped Gavner recover. They’d told him much about the clan, explained Tanish’s bitter history, helped prepare him for life as a creature of the night. When they left Petrograd, Larten urged Gavner to travel with Vancha. He said that the Prince could teach Gavner more than he ever could. But Gavner asked to learn from Larten instead. He had always wanted to get closer to the aloof, tall man with the scar. He saw this as a chance to gain a father. There were no more lies between them. He hoped to build a strong relationship with Larten Crepsley, to earn his respect and love.
Larten did respect Gavner, and loved him in his own strange way. But he never made any open display of affection. He was shy with most people, slow to reveal anything personal. But it went beyond shyness with Gavner. He had orphaned the boy and would never allow himself to forget that. He had told Gavner the whole sad story, how he’d been suffering with a fever, how his young assistant had been killed, the way he’d lost his mind and slaughtered a shipful of humans.
Gavner had forgiven him – he had come close to killing when he lost Tanish Eul, so he could empathise with the older vampire – but Larten still blamed himself, and every time he looked at Gavner he was reminded of that dark day, of the stain on his soul. Though he had spent most of the last fifteen years with the youth, teaching him the ways of the clan, he’d always kept his assistant at arm’s length, insisting Gavner treat him as nothing more than a tutor.
“I will never be a father to you,” he’d declared several years ago, after Gavner had absentmindedly referred to Larten as his father. “I do not deserve such love and I will cast you aside if you ever speak of me in that way again. I will accept your friendship if you feel I am entitled to it, but no more than that.”
Gavner knew that Larten thought of him as more than a mere assistant, just as he thought of Larten as more than a mentor. But he accepted the older vampire’s rules and never again spoke of his true feelings. If this was what Larten needed in order to feel comfortable around his student and would-be son, so be it. He would do anything to please the man who had reluctantly reared him.
While Gavner studied Larten and Alicia, smiling sadly as he thought of the past, Sylva snuck up on him and pushed him hard. Gavner yelped, arms flailing, then fell into the water. He came up spluttering and roaring. He looked for Sylva, to drag her in, but she’d already fled — she knew how swiftly a vampire could react.
“Hide me!” Sylva squealed, seeking shelter behind her mother and Larten.
“If you were my daughter I would spank you,” Larten growled as Gavner hauled himself out of the pond. “You know that sunlight is bad for him. I will have to help him fish his hat out of the pond before his hair catches fire.”
Sylva’s smile faded as she stared at the glowering vampire. But then Larten winked and she knew that everything was fine. She looked on with delight as he hurried to the shivering Gavner, expressing concern for him — then howled with glee as he shoved his unsuspecting assistant back into the pond.
“Men never grow up,” Alicia tutted, but she was smiling too. She offered Gavner the rug she was sitting on when they returned and helped him dry his hair. She corrected him when he cursed Larten and Sylva – “Gentlemen do not use such crude words” – then packed up and led them home.
Gavner and Sylva strayed ahead of their elders, walking arm in arm. Sylva chatted about friends, fashion and movies, and Gavner pretended to be interested in such things. He had already forgiven her for pushing him into the pond — he’d never been one to hold a grudge. Larten and Alicia followed leisurely, strolling like any ordinary couple.
“How long can you stay this time?” Alicia asked, already knowing the answer. Larten and Gavner had arrived a week earlier, and though nothing had been said, she’d gathered within a few hours that it would be a short visit. Larten always tried to cram in a lot if he wasn’t staying long. When she heard him making plans for all the things that he wanted to do, she knew the pair would be moving on in a matter of days, not weeks or months. By his expression this afternoon, she realised the time had come for them to leave, so she asked the question at last, the same way she always did. It was a long-established routine of theirs.
“We go tonight,” Larten said. “We have a meeting which we must attend. It is not far from here as vampires measure things, but it will take us most of the night to get there.”
“Will you return soon?” she asked, again already knowing the answer.
Larten sighed. “I do not think so. We have been forced to deal with unpleasant but determined people, and I suspect the negotiations will take some time.”
“How mysterious your lives are,” Alicia said enviously. “I bet you’re off to meet a magician or witch.”
“Nothing so fanciful,” Larten smiled. “I would prefer it if we were. These men pose more of a threat to the world, I fear, than any being of magic.”
“What do you mean?” Alicia asked, frowning at him as they reached the small house where she and Sylva lived.
“We do not have much to do with human politicians or soldiers,” Larten said, pausing at the door to cast one last glance at the setting sun. “But occasionally a group tries to forge links with us and we find ourselves having to deal with them. This is one such time and I am worried about the outcome. Tell me, Alicia, what do you know about Nazis?”
“We are so alike,” Franz said with a smile. “Vampires and National Socialists are creatures of similar beliefs and habits. We have common goals and hopes. If we unite, it will benefit both our clans.” The officer’s smile widened. Larten had never met people who smiled as freely as the Nazis. But he found no warmth or humour in their grins, merely menace, deceit and threats.
The Nazis had been courting the night walkers for several years. Their leader was a man who believed in the supernatural. He had set his followers the task of finding out whether or not vampires were real. The members of the clan were usually adept at keeping their secrets, but somebody had let their guard down at some point and discussed their ways with one of the investigators. It didn’t happen often, but it wasn’t without precedent — Larten himself had accidentally given some of their secrets away to Bram Stoker when the author was researching his book Dracula.
The Nazis had been politely hounding the Generals of the clan ever since they found out about them. The Princes had avoided the entreaties of the political party, as they always did whenever a group tried to forge links with them. It had happened a few times over the centuries. Vampires were faster and stronger than humans. They would make powerful allies… powerful weapons. The Nazis weren’t the first to seek the support of the creatures of the night.
But no other group had pressed as hard as the smiling soldiers in the sharp suits. No army or party had claimed to share so many common ideals. Nobody had promised as much as the representatives of the short man with the silly-looking moustache.
Many Generals were in favour of a union with the Nazis. They saw shades of themselves in the Germans. Like vampires, National Socialists believed in honour, order, unity. They had stabilised a country in chaos. They lived by strict laws and preached obedience and decency. They had little time or sympathy for the weak or old — they focused on the strong, the pure, those who could handle themselves in a fight. They were more interested in control and power than vampires were, but apart from that they were as close to the clan in spirit as any humans had ever appeared to be.
Some highly ranked Generals had met with members of the party in recent years, and now a Prince had been sent to parlay. Mika Ver