The Dark Blood of Poppies by Freda Warrington Page B

would know. She became a vampire because Charlotte – Karl’s companion?”
    “I believe I saw her once,” Cesare said dismissively.
    “Charlotte became obsessed with her, and brought her into the Crystal Ring. But she came out of the initiation mad, convinced she’s Lilith. I don’t know her intentions, but I do know she’s crazy. She’s already killed two vampires and had a damned good attempt on me! You know who Lilith is?”
    “As John said, the Mother of Vampires.” Another spasm clouded Cesare’s face. “Kristian spoke of Lilith as God’s instrument. Her dark thoughts spawned us, and she will reappear at the end of time to destroy us. To cast her own children into hell. Unless…”
    The hush that followed his words was charged with fear – and, if Pierre was not mistaken, a bizarre, hungry excitement. He closed his eyes, wishing he’d gone to Ilona after all. Her ridicule would have been comforting compared to this. Cesare’s vehemence was shredding his last hold on sanity.
    “Unless we can defeat her. That is our great test! And we can, if we hold true to our faith.”
    “Kristian’s great purpose for us!” exclaimed the yellow-haired male, and the others all began talking at once, in a rushing murmur of joy as if everything had fallen into place.
    Cesare clasped Pierre’s shoulder. “You can help us, Pierre. Show us where to find her.”
    “No!” he cried. “No, I can’t. I’m ill. Just let me stay here. Please.”
    “Vampires don’t suffer illness.”
    Pierre loathed Cesare’s condescending tone, but he’d asked for it by coming here.
I believe in nothing
, he thought.
I don’t care what this means, as long as I never see Violette again. I’ll do anything for Cesare, sell myself to a man I abhor, if it means gaining protection from the witch!
    “The question is this,” Cesare went on. “Is Violette really Lilith, or is she insane? Either way, she must be dealt with. She’s committed heinous acts… Of course you can stay here, my dear friend. And I think that you are right.”
    “About what?”
    “That I’ve been cloistered here too long.” Cesare’s eyes were unfocussed, his dread of the unknown becoming a hard light of defiance. “It’s time I went out and re-acquainted myself with the world.”
    * * *
    Charlotte and Karl still went their separate ways to seek blood, as if their mutual feast on the peasant woman had never happened. The incident went unmentioned. On her own after Violette’s visit, however, Charlotte delayed her hunt. Instead she travelled through the Crystal Ring to Vienna, in search of a friend.
    She found him quickly. He was on his way home, strolling alone through one of the public gardens. She went ahead, and waited under a tree. Tall and slim with thick grey hair, his face still leanly attractive at sixty, he had the melancholy, self-contained look she remembered.
    Josef.
    As he drew level, Charlotte stepped into his path. He stopped, raising a hand to his chest; for a moment, she thought the shock had stopped his heart. Then he breathed out and smiled. His grey eyes, behind black-rimmed spectacles, gleamed with wry pleasure.
    He was in no danger from her. Josef was her only mortal friend.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I always startle you to death.”
    “That’s uncomfortably close to the truth,” said Josef. “You never knock on my front door, like a normal visitor. But, my dear Charlotte…” He kissed her hand, then held it between his palms. “Such a sweet death I would welcome.”
    “No, you wouldn’t.”
    “Maybe not, but let me dream. Then you frighten me less.” He tucked her hand through his arm, and they walked together. Light from the street wove green webs in the foliage.
    “I never mean to alarm you, Josef, truly.”
    “But you can’t help it. I still see you as the little daughter of my good friend, George Neville, yet here you are, a ghost…”
    Josef knew what she was: an unholy creature in a human shell. When