Birth of a Killer by Darren Shan Page B

to his village, he’d be alive now, and his family too.”
    “We’ll pray for him,” another man said, moving to the altar. Larten realized this was the priest. “Maybe he’ll find the strength to kill this thing, and that will be the end of it.”
    The other men looked dubious but filed back to the pews, joining their wives and children. Soon Larten and the priest were the only two standing. The priest smiled uncertainly at the youthful stranger and waved for him to step down. In response, Larten spat at the priest’s feet. A shocked gasp ran through the church.
    “You’re nothing but cowards,” Larten snarled, the words coming from a dark, angry place inside him. “I hope your animals die, your crops fail, and that each one of you rots in the fires of hell.” He felt the same sort of cold fury he’d felt the day he killed Traz.
    As the church members gaped at him, Larten considered adding a few curses, then decided against it and hurried down the aisle. Wester Flack had a head start. If he didn’t catch up with the boy quickly, he might lose him—unlike the rest of the people in the church, Larten didn’t know the way to Strasling’s.
    A couple of minutes later, Larten drew alongside Wester. The boy frowned warily at the orange-haired stranger.
    “I’m Larten Crepsley. I want to help if you’ll have me.”
    “Why?” Wester asked. “I don’t know you. What business is this of yours?”
    Larten didn’t want to confess to being worried that the murders might be the work of a vampire like his master, so he told Wester the other–equally truthful–reason for his interest.
    “You remind me of myself. I once went up against a foul murderer, and nobody helped me. I had to face him all on my own.”
    “What happened?” Wester asked.
    “I killed him.”
    Wester gulped, then said, “This is no ordinary killer. It’s a monster. The beast is stronger and faster than us. I’ll most likely die, and if you come with me, you will too.”
    “I’m not afraid of death,” Larten said quietly. “And I’ve no family to worry about, unlike those cowards back in that church.”
    “It’s not their fault,” Wester sniffed. “The monsters don’t pass through here often and never kill many when they do. But if you anger them…”
    “This isn’t the first time that it’s happened?” Larten asked, and Wester shook his head. Larten licked his lips and tried to make his next question sound natural. “Do you have a name for the monsters?”
    “The old wives have lots of names,” Wester snorted. “Most of us just call them bloodsuckers, because they drink the blood of those they kill.” He cocked an eyebrow at Larten. “Still want to come with me?”
    “Do you see me backing off?” Larten growled.
    Wester sighed. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not myself. When I walked in and found them…”
    Larten gave the boy’s arm a squeeze, remembering what it had felt like when he lost Vur, trying toimagine how it must feel to find all your family murdered at the same time, to be the only survivor. His heart went out to Wester, and he swore a silent oath to do all that he could to protect this lonely, brave orphan.
    “What’s Strasling’s?” Larten asked.
    “A burned-down mansion,” Wester explained. “The man who lived there was evil. He practiced dark magic and killed lots of people. The villagers say the house was struck by lightning and all within died by the hand of God. But I think a group of them torched it and drove back those inside when they tried to get out.”
    “Nice place you picked to come and live,” Larten grinned.
    Wester managed a weak chuckle. “We didn’t have much choice. After Da helped kill the monster last year, we weren’t welcome in our own village, nor any of the others. I think they only accepted us here because they still feel guilty about what happened in Strasling’s.”
    “The monster your father killed,” Larten said carefully. “What was it