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He retraced his steps to the back room and scooped up Janos’s unconscious body. He slipped out the back door of the shop, glancing around as he made his way down the back alley towards the little courtyard where his apartment was situated. Once he had climbed the stairs and unlocked the door, he carried Janos inside and laid him down on the comfortable bed. Sam had never fancied sleeping in a coffin, contrary to popular myth. He liked a big comfy bed too much. He sat down and brushed Janos’s dark hair back from where it had fallen tousled over his forehead.
He sighed. Leaving Janos unconscious was starting to become a habit. As much as he loved drinking from the man, he needed to think about looking elsewhere before it all ended in tragedy. He tried not to think about the consequences of taking too much. Was he even capable of making a vampire? It seemed such a forbidden thing to do. Istvan had made him, but by all accounts would have been a dead man if Emil had had his way. But how nice it would be to have a companion. Someone who understood how lonely and miserable this life was, how fraught with danger around every corner.
When he thought about it like that, how could he subject Janos to this? How could he bring anyone into this life, knowing what torments and tribulations would lie in store for them? He was crushed with the weight of his own feelings. He was destined to be alone for the rest of his immortal life.
???
In the dungeon of the ancient castle, it was like watching a birth. The movements of the black shape in the casket started off slow and barely perceptible. They built steadily over minutes until the entire coffin appeared to be writhing, then convulsing. With it came guttural groans and Raphael imagined a baby doing the same in the womb, if only people could see what it went through being born and hear the pain it felt.
A hand grasped the edge of the coffin. Thin and skeletal with long claw-like nails. The groans became a high-pitched keening wail and Raphael shook his head, appalled, finally having to put his hands over his ears. Really, was there any need for such drama?
The casket rocked. The black shape moved and the darkness coalesced into the form of a man as the vampire stood. He was unsteady, legs quaking like a new-born lamb or a toddler taking his first steps. Raphael waited, somewhat impatiently.
Emil slowly lifted his arms above his head. His eyes opened, burning coal black in the dim torchlight. He let out a howl something akin to a wolf might make but with an edge of triumph. A howl of resurrection that went on and on and on. From far beyond the castle walls came answering cries from the local animals. Raphael knew that packs of grey wolves roamed the area for he had seen them with his own eyes. Indeed, he had conversed with them on many occasions. The animals were surprisingly docile and affectionate when Raphael walked among them, petting them and allowing them to lick his hand.
The wolves’ mournful cry pierced the night and somewhere it was answered by the call of domestic dogs and the baby-like cry of cats, both wild and domestic.
“Enough,” Raphael said when the noise became too much and Emil’s gaze snapped to him as though realising he was there for the first time. The younger vampire closed his mouth, the unearthly howl ceasing.
He worked his lips for a moment as though he had forgotten how to speak. “You,” he said, his voice hoarse and scratchy with disuse.
“Me,” affirmed Raphael.
Emil climbed slowly out of the coffin with torturous movements and looked around the dungeon. “What happened?”
“Humans happened,” Raphael said. “Don’t you remember? Other vampires happened. They conspired with each other to cut off your head.”
Emil started, his eyes bulging. He put a hand to his neck where the gruesome line of the sword was clearly visible. His face hardened into the oh so familiar expression of Raphael’s favourite protégé. “Who?” The single word was loaded with ominous threat and barely suppressed fury. He shook with anger.
“Istvan,” Raphael said. “Severin. Nikolaus. Istvan’s new English vampire and his human pet.”
Emil blanched even whiter than his already translucent skin. One hand curled into a fist. “Istvan,” he said and Raphael knew then that the rumours he had heard about Emil’s obsession with the Hungarian vampire were true. It was obviously also true that Istvan had never returned his maker’s rather misguided feelings. After all, Raphael thought savagely, who would want Emil in love with them? He might have resurrected the German vampire but that didn’t mean he had to like him an awful lot. Emil wasn’t someone anybody could actually like. He merely served Raphael’s purposes.
“How long?” Emil said.
“It has taken me five years to complete the resurrection,” Raphael replied and Emil stared at him. He shook his head and turned away, pacing the dungeon and muttering to himself. Raphael watched him a moment and then said, “Emil.” The single word rang out through the dark, commanding, insistent, and when Emil turned, Raphael was under no illusion that he did so from subservience.
“Focus,” Raphael said sharply. “Collect your thoughts and hone them. Your thoughts should not be petty human ones, about this vampire that has hurt you and that one that has betrayed you. The vampires and the humans are all living on borrowed time. They are all dead men.”
Emil regarded him with both fists clenched. He nodded slowly.
???
In the little apartment, Janos stirred finally on the bed much to Sam’s relief. His eyelashes fluttered and then his eyes opened, some colour coming back to his pale cheeks. Sam reached down and trailed his fingertips over Janos’s face. “Are you all right?”
Janos blinked. He nodded and moistened his dry lips with his tongue.
“I’m so sorry,” Sam said. “Please forgive me.”
Janos shook his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said. “I offered it to you.”
“And I took too much again. I couldn’t control myself.” Sam pressed a hand against his head, his eyes shut.
“Hush,” Janos said. “Don’t. You needed it. You were sick and injured. What sort of man would I be if I had denied you in your hour of need?”
Sam looked down at him with a lump in his throat and tears brimming his eyes. He realised that he might have found the thing he needed most in this solitary existence after years of fruitless searching. “Why would you...” he asked and stopped because he couldn’t understand it.
Janos reached up to touch his cheek. “Because I care about you. Because you’re more than just a vampire to me.”
