The Cat Burglar - 15. Vengeance in Venice

Aykut ripped a chunk off a massive dried meat thing he called wolf-sized jerky with his pearly-white eye tooth before he returned his hand to the steering wheel. “On a personal level, I’ve never liked First Legate Gideon, always prancing around in his fancy clothes, wearing all that jewelry like a fucking—”

“Christmas Tree?” I raised my eyebrows.

The wolf snorted. “I was about to say prince, but yep that’s equally fitting. I admire him for his keen analyses and clever strategies, but he never was a team player, unlike Konstantin. Your boyfriend always kept aloof from everyone, as if he thought he was better than the rest of us.”

I rolled my eyes. “For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Maybe. Anyway, I think one of Master Caspian’s reasons for nominating your sire as second legate is that he’s much better with the men.” He moved his free hand around in an all-encompassing gesture. “He makes sure they know he cares, and they matter.”

I watched him from the passenger seat of the car, chewing and smacking his lips with relish. Ew. “Apropos, do you belong to Konstantin’s men?”

He swallowed hard. “My pack abandoned me. A lone wolf is miserable and mean. In the end, no one wanted to have anything to do with me anymore. It became more and more difficult to find work. I became an outcast. I met Konstantin at The Tavern; he was looking for a day guard on behalf of Master Caspian, and Oriole pointed him my way. After some hard questions, he deemed me honorable enough and hired me; the rest is history as they say. Others like me heard about it and after some time, a small mixed group of former lone shifters of silver formed a pack within a vampire clan. Master Caspian took a chance on us and gave us a new home, and we will never forget this. We mostly work as day guards for the clan or help out with security.”

Before I could comment on his curt, brusque account, my phone rang with Konstantin’s ringtone. “Hey, we’re already in the car.”

“Good. Van just confirmed Gideon boarded the train to Munich. We think he’s on his way to Venice.”

“Is she following him on the same train?”

“No, that would be too dangerous. We called her home. The last few weeks were very strenuous for her. She did an extraordinary job and is in dire need of some R&R.”

I didn’t want to sound selfish or ungrateful, but I had to ask. “What if he gets off the train somewhere?”

“I don’t think he’ll do that. He is on the hunt—”

“B—”

“Believe me, he’s tracking prey; nothing will dissuade him.”

“B—”

“Just to be sure, I asked a friend in Munich to make sure he is still on the train and to watch him for a while. We assume he’ll be catching a train to Salzburg next.”

“Or he’ll rent a car,” I inserted.

“Not without a day guard. It would be too risky, at least if he wants to get there as fast as he can. What are your plans?”

“The sun set an hour ago. I’ll take over the wheel soon until a few hours before sunrise, then Aykut will get us to the Swiss border. I’m going to slip over at another spot, taking our erm— extracurricular stuff across as soon it’s dark enough.”

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

“And don’t forget to feed.”

Double eyeroll. “Yes, sire.”

“Watch it! I’ll inform Master Caspian about your plan. As soon as I know more, I’ll call you.”

“Bye, Konstantin.” I twirled my hand at Aykut. “Let’s change drivers. Sunrise will be in seven hours. Then it’s trunk time for me. Yay!”

Everything went according to plan. Aykut stopped at one of the small rest areas along the motorway close to the border when it was about to get dark. I slipped into the shadows and crossed the border unnoticed. He picked me up at another rest area in Switzerland.

“That went almost too well.” I adjusted the seat and mirrors.

Aykut twisted the cap off a water bottle with his teeth. “I thought about something while you slept.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“After what we learned about Gideon in the last few weeks, I think I understand a little more about why he became such an insufferable asshole.”

“How so?”

“Think about it. Friar Bruno said he was adopted, right? We don’t know what happened with his first family; if they died or just gave him away for reasons unknown. If he actually knew them or whatever, but the fact is, he somehow lost them. He was lucky and was accepted by a new family, which he then found slaughtered by vampires. Seeing him grieving for every single one of them at the farm was heartbreaking. It is obvious how much he loved them. Next, he was made a vampire himself, turned by one of the very creatures who did this, and he became a part of a murderous horde.”

I frowned. “A human would never be able to do this so easily. A vampire though… Konstantin said newly-turned vamps are savages because they’re always hungry.”

“Exactly. Young vampires are connected to their sires through blood, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to kill their former species this cold-bloodedly. Their loyalty begins to shift as soon as they ingest their sire’s blood.”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t have been able to kill my brothers or any other harmless humans.”

“You would’ve if the circumstances had been different.”

I growled. ”Never!”

“These men weren’t benevolent sires who taught their childre to master their inner predator, to favor their human side, as Konstantin did. Contrary, they were monsters who hated humans. Their childre followed their sire’s lead, who were a pair of ruthless killers,” the wolf stated.

I watched him press his lips to a thin line. It felt as if he was speaking from experience. “You think they blamed the humans for their banishment?”

“Yes. For them, humans were mere cattle to do with whatever they wanted. The city master of Venice exiled them for something they probably thought was their um…birthright, being the superior species and all.”

“Wow. You think their actions inadvertently threatened to expose our world, and the city master was forced to act to prevent it? An interesting idea.”

“They amassed an army to work off their hatred against humans. I’m sure Gideon knew nothing but killing and fucking when he was with them.”

“Killing and fucking?”

“That’s how this kind of vampire strengthens the bond with their childre.”

“I guess I was really lucky.” I stared ahead. “Fortunately, he wasn’t a One Childe.”

“Yes, that would’ve been worse.” Aykut rummaged around the backpack by his feet for another beef jerky-XXL I assumed, but then stopped and threw the flap closed again and frowned at the darkness. “We don’t know who sired Gideon, Ettore or Eduardo. His sire was either killed or was a total asshole who sold him to a pit master rather than taking him to Venice. The city master’s condition was getting rid of the childre, but his sire didn’t even try. I wouldn’t exactly call a sire-childe bond parental, not in the past, but it must have hurt Gideon to be disposable.” He turned to me. “If I’d lost people three times in a row who I was sorta close to…. Maybe I’d become an antisocial asshole too.”

I wasn’t impressed by Aykut’s reasoning, though. Yes, Gideon’s life had been horrible, majorly. But then he’d met Caspian, who showed him another life; he became a member of his clan, even a legate. Caspian called him his adopted childe. Gideon had had decades to work through his traumatic past, that, and he was a fucking centuries-old vampire and not some delicate flower.

I ostentatiously looked at my phone. “I need to feed. Maybe we can stop at the next village. You go for a burger, and I’ll snack on a tourist.”

I was fed up with all those people who excused their poor life choices and shitty behavior with their terrible past. I always thought there comes a time when one is an adult and is able to see reason. The past is not a general excuse for being an asshole all the time, period.

But Aykut wasn’t done with his dear Mr. Therapist lecture. “Did you know that small doses of Lykan venom can lead to addiction? They use it to make their captives complacent. I suppose, at first, Gideon was probably proud of every fight he won for Armin, of every piece of jewelry he awarded him. But at some time, he got accustomed to the venom, and Armin couldn’t raise the amount anymore without killing his precious Angel. When the effect wore off and Gideon realized what Armin did to him, he ran as soon as his gift came forward. Armin was another person who betrayed him.”

Buhu.... “And why did he wear all the jewelry even after he was free?”

Aykut shrugged. “I think he really likes his bling.”

I rolled my eyes. “And why did he destroy the cabinets at his apartment, after all?”

“Look, I don’t have all the answers.”

“Yeah, because it’s all bullshit.” I turned a little too fast into the parking lot of a burger place, threw the keys at him, slammed the door close, and stormed inside the joint, where I looked for the bathroom. Fortunately, there was a slightly-drunk guy trying to wash his hands who didn’t protest much against being shoved into one of the stalls and providing my dinner.

Fucking-Aykut-wannabe-psychiatrist-wolf.

When I decided to follow Gideon, I’d been furious. I wanted to make a point and then tell him to go fuck himself and leave.

Did I know Master Caspian would ask me to bring him home? Or that I had to follow Gideon all the way into his past? Or that Konstantin would give me a hobby psychiatrist as a travel companion? “Fuck that shit!”

Mid inner-rant, on my way back to the car, Konstantin called and told me his contact reported Gideon had arrived in Munich, where he took a hotel room and spent the day. In the evening, he boarded another train, as predicted, to Salzburg, which meant he really was on the way to Venice. Perfect.

When Aykut came back from his own dinner, smelling of burgers and fries, he opened his mouth to say something to me but thought better of it and pressed his lips together. He wasn’t happy with me, not that I cared, much. I went to sleep, and he drove to the Italian border.

We crossed it the same way we did the Swiss border with no problem. As Konstantin and Caspian had decided we better enter Venice discreetly, we drove to Punta Sabbioni, a coastal village with many campgrounds and hotels, which were mostly closed as it was the end of December. After parking the car on a side street, we looked for the small out-of-the-way landing stage Emil had talked about.

He and some guy were already waiting to pick us up in a small motorboat. “Hey, I hope it wasn’t too difficult to find us.”

When I stood there without moving, he frowned at Aykut and me. “Anyway, welcome to Venice, well almost Venice. Throw your bags over and give the car keys to Anselmo; he’ll take care of it.”

I did as he said, then jumped into the boat. Aykut followed me.

Emil grabbed my arm. “Okay guys, what’s up?”

I glared at Aykut. “We had a minor disagreement.”

“Well, get over it. We haven’t found Gideon yet, but I’m sure he’s here, somewhere. I have a place where we can stay during the day, and we might even have an idea what Gideon’s plans are.”

Aykut and I murmured something that only a well-minded person could have interpreted as agreement and/or appreciation.

It took about thirty minutes to reach Venice proper.

I was perched on the roof of the Dogana da Mar, the old customs house, where the Grand Canal and the Giudecca Canal touch. Behind me was the famous sculpture of two Atlases bearing a gilded globe, with the goddess Fortune on top, holding a wind vane. A little too much symbolism for my taste.

Would the winds be favorable for our endeavor?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punta_della_Dogana#/media/File:Bernardo_Falconi_-_Statua_della_Fortuna_-_Punta_della_Dogana_-_Venezia.jpg

Ever since Aykut had psychoanalyzed Gideon, I’d been arguing with myself.

Gideon’s life had been hell for decades, granted.

But he found a home with Caspian’s clan. The man even made him legate and called him his adopted childe for fuck’s sake! What was his problem?

And there was that nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I was missing something.

According to Caspian, Gideon had suspected I was his blood song since the very first time we met. Because the master vampire wanted him happy, he’d furthered the burgeoning bond he’d detected between us by making Gideon train me. Spending so much time together strengthened it, as intended. Going into the pit with only a small number of soldiers had been a risk. If I hadn’t been there to save him, he would have died.

Did he do this on purpose? Caspian said Gideon wanted to die in Venice.

Armin was dead. Ettore was dead.

Winner or loser, Gideon would be free of his past.

This time our bond was much stronger though, as Caspian had made us drink each other’s blood.

Did Gideon even care about the consequence of his final death for me, Caspian, and the clan?

And suddenly I was even more pissed off than I’d been about his habit of making lone decisions.

Was he really such a coward who didn’t want any kind of relationship because of the chance people could leave him?

And there was another thing. I somehow promised Caspian I would try to bring his adopted childe home, which meant I would do everything in my power to make this possible. I wasn’t a coward like some people.

I needed silence in my head!

Gazing down at a lone pair of tourists sharing a meal while they admired the view of San Marco and the Campanile in the distance, my mind wandered. The cool air carried varied scents and sounds: waves lapping at the seawall, freshly brewed coffee, sea salt, rotten wood, distant laughter, fish, and urine. If I concentrated, I could make out the ingredients of their tomato crostini: fresh basil, olive oil, red wine vinegar, garlic, and pepper. For a brief moment, I mourned all the food I could enjoy in this amazing city, if I still ate.

I even downloaded a map of Venice, only, would I be here long enough to explore?

But that wasn’t the point. I’d come here to think about the plan.

While Aykut and I had still been on the road, Emil and Konstantin tried to figure out Gideon’s revenge plan.

They found out about an interesting tradition. The two weeks before winter solstice are called the time of truce in Venice. During this period, the vampires negotiate any kind of dispute, be it between clans or individuals. In case the problem couldn’t be solved by the concerned parties, the city master sent out mediators, or, in very difficult cases, he himself became involved as the mediator, which, I guess, speeds up negotiations immensely.

Anyway, the newly-established peace will then be celebrated by arranging a Winter Solstice ball at Conte Ballarin’s palazzo.

In the past, when someone wasn’t satisfied with the outcome of the negotiation, they could, as a last resort, challenge the other party to a duel. These challenges always took place right before the master of the city opened the ball.

For a while, people used duels as an easy tool to get rid of unwelcome competitors and lovers. The list was long, at least in the event they were sure of their superiority in fighting with a sword. When too many vampires met their final death, Conte Ballarin finally implemented strict rules which reduced the number of duels to virtually zero in a short time.

Emil and Konstantin were certain Gideon wanted to revive the old tradition and challenge Eduardo to a duel to the death.

That meant we had to get an invite to the ball. From his time in Venice, Emil knew Graciela, who ran a guest house that specifically catered to our species. She was always invited, including her guests.

This was why we stayed at her establishment with its slightly-morbid charm of peeling wallpaper, water-stained plaster, and threadbare runners. The rooms were situated above a snack bar. Well I would never call the establishment a snack bar ever again after the sharp lecture I got from its owner about why I couldn’t call a bàcaro a simple snack bar and what the differences were. Holy shit!

I had spent hours enduring a fitting for a fancy suit and elaborately planning how to get our swords into the Conte’s palazzo, as one of the newly-established rules was that no swords were allowed to be carried to the ball. It all had been extremely exhausting. I had hoped we would explore the city, but of course, we couldn’t as we didn’t know if Gideon had already arrived.

After all the touching and being too close to strangers, I felt restless. I needed to get out; the place was suffocating me. I slipped out the window of my room. I was sure as soon as Aykut found out what I had done, he would follow me and kill me with words.

And there he was, nose in the air. Seconds later, he stood beside the tourists, glaring at me, his fists pressed into his sides. “Kavan, come home before Emil notices what you did.”

He hadn’t ratted me out.

The next night I stared at the mirror with unseeing eyes. I could count the number of times I’d worn a suit in my life on one hand: my mother’s funeral, my graduation, Caspian’s species high court, and now a fucking winter solstice ball. This time it fit perfectly. Against Graciela’s advice, I’d chosen all black. It suited my mood best, pun intended.

We chose to ride in style, by gondola. It wasn’t a design decision, though. It was the best place to hide our swords.

When we arrived, Emil got out, turned, and helped Graciela. She arranged her vibrant green robe. Aykut was next; he took the hand of Claudia, another guest, to make sure she landed safely on the slippery stone steps. Then it was my turn.

Graciela presented the invitation to the guard, who checked our names on a list. Next, we were scanned by a metal detector. I watched where the gondola vanished. I had to find it later.

We entered a hall with leafed pillars beneath domes painted with faded murals. Chatting people in fancy clothes milled about the uneven, intricate mosaic floor, a testimony to Venice’s evanescence, as it was built on wooden poles driven into the seafloor.

I turned to Graciela. “What are we waiting for?”

“For the master of Venice. He likes to keep his people waiting, as most important people do.”

I looked at Emil questioningly. He nodded subtly.

I slipped into the shadows. The entrance was too bright, so I needed to briefly step into the other plane.

Outside, I looked for our gondola. After a few minutes, I found it, thankfully moored at a dark spot. After grabbing the swords wrapped into a black wax cotton cloth, I hurried back. This time I knew the premises and envisioned a spot behind a huge terracotta urn. Leaning against the wall, melding with the urn’s shadow, I waited. Aykut looked around. When he looked in my direction, I briefly stepped out of the shadow. He sauntered to me after talking to Emil and positioned himself in front of me, always being my guard.

Suddenly the chattering stopped. The master of Venice had come, at his side a beautiful woman with long raven hair and sapphire blue eyes. “Fuck.”

Emil asked Graciela, “Who’s the woman?”

She smiled brightly. ”She is the master’s beloved childe. One night Mariella suddenly disappeared, and when it happened, he was inconsolable. Some time ago she was back. Rumor says she had been abducted, and he paid a huge sum for her return.”

Emil stepped closer to me. “It’s Sapphire.”

“I know. She hated Gideon.”

Conte Ballarin lifted his hands. “My friends, welcome!” He scanned his guests with water-grey eyes. “Before I open the ball, I have to ask, as tradition requires. Are all disputes resolved?”

This would be the moment Gideon should appear. And indeed, there was a commotion at the entrance, and Gideon entered the hall. No suit, but grey jeans, a leather jacket, and combat boots. His hair was a little longer than when I’d seen him last.

He bowed flawlessly before he stood upright again. “My name is Gideon Michel. I’m here to challenge Eduardo Santorini to a duel to the death.”

Sapphire—Mariella hissed something into the count’s ear, but he ignored her.

“Very well. Why do you want to challenge Eduardo?”

“He and his brother Ettore murdered my entire family. Not to feed but to fuel their bloodlust and hatred against humans. They killed everyone, including my,” he swallowed “four-year-old sister.”

The count lifted an eyebrow. “Do you have any proof?”

“Eduardo turned me when I came home after I’d found their bodies. He bragged about what he did. He described to me every kill in detail; how he and Ettore killed my family. My father’s throat was ripped out. He lay on the doorstep where he tried to defend his family with a flail against monsters. My mother….” His voice broke.

The count lifted his right hand. “Your right to challenge Eduardo is hereby confirmed.” The audience gasped.

“Do you accept the challenge, Eduardo?” The count turned to a vampire leaning against a marble pillar, pretending to yawn.

“Too much of a hassle.”

Gideon fished something from the right pocket of his jacket and lifted the object into the air so everyone could see it.

It was the urn he’d stolen from the vampire cemetery. He tossed it up, caught it, then hurled it in Eduardo’s direction, where it shattered by his feet. Between the shards only a small amount of ash could be seen.

When he realized what it was, Eduardo roared, “What have you done? What did you do with my brother?”

Gideon shrugged. “I poured part of his ashes into some garbage cans in Cologne.”

Eduardo howled.

“The rest I dispersed over the river Rhine, and its water carried it to the Northern Sea, or it sank to the ground.

“Someone bring me my sword!” Eduardo balled his hands into fists.

The count nodded; his expression neutral. “The challenge has been accepted.” He let his gaze wander up and down Gideon’s body. “You need your sword. The challenge is only applicable if you use your own sword; no powers are allowed.”

That was my cue. I stepped from the shadows, holding Gideon’s sword, presenting it on the flat of my hands. “His sword.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes at me. Before he could say anything, the count waved me over. “Let me see the sword.”

I showed it to him, and he stared at it. “Accepted.” Then he turned to me. “And who might you be?”

Thank God I had practiced this with Emil, otherwise, I would have stuttered. “My name is Kavan Clark, One Childe to Konstantin Navarro, first legate of Master Caspian’s clan.” I enjoyed Gideon’s flinch when I said first legate.

“And what are you to the challenger?”

“I am his bloodsong.”

“That will be enough.”

“Enough?”

“I assume you will act as your bloodsong’s second?”

“Erm—” I looked at Gideon. He didn’t react.

“To prevent duels being carried out only as a convenient way to get rid of a random enemy or competitor, the seriousness of the contested matter has to be validated. The chosen second has to be important to the challenger, as her or his life is forfeit in case the challenger loses the fight.”

That was a new rule. I bowed, then went over to Gideon. Before I handed over his sword, I felt the urge to run my finger over its blade, and for a second it looked as if a red line appeared where I touched it. I looked around;, no one had seen it. Whatever it was. I passed Gideon his sword and murmured, “You better win,” before returning to my spot at the wall beside Emil and Aykut.

I whispered to Emil. “Well fuck. I hope he trained with Konstantin.”

“He did. Konstantin trained him because he was somehow your guard during your er… adventures.”

At first, Eduardo watched the entire scene with flaring nostrils, clenching and unclenching his hands while he waited for his sword.

After a while, a blond female in a revealing evening gown went to him and handed him a flamboyant rapier, and stepped aside.

The count approved of the weapon as well of Eduardo’s chosen second.

People had stepped back and formed a circle around the duelists.

Lips pulled back, Eduardo bared his teeth.

Limbering up his shoulders and neck, Gideon tossed his sword from his right hand to his left and back, before he flashed Eduardo a razor-sharp grin.

The vampire stepped forward, crunching the shards of his brother’s urn under his soles. As soon as he noticed what he did, he barreled toward Gideon, uttering a guttural roar.

I don’t know what I’d expected, but certainly not a fight like this. If you could call this a fight at all.

Gideon only had to step aside a little to evade the mindless attack.

Eduardo was nothing but a raging bull. In his blind fury, maybe in his pain, he had no control over his attacks. There was no finesse, no sophistication, nothing one might have expected from a centuries-old vampire who had such a long time to hone his skills. He recklessly hacked and slashed with his sword as if it were a simple bat and not an elegant, albeit dangerous, weapon.

Gideon could have toyed with him, drawn out the fight, let Eduardo stumble into his sword again and again.

The expected epic fight between two powerful vampires with a slight advantage for Eduardo was over quick. I didn’t see the final blow that killed Eduardo, too many people blocked my view, and I didn’t want to stand in front anyway.

Then I heard someone screeching and saw a blur from the corner of my eye, and Gideon was suddenly lying on the floor holding his throat, blood seeping between his fingers.

Pushing people out of my way, I ran to him. Emil reached him sooner than me. He pulled Gideon into his lap and pressed his palm additionally against the wound. “Kavan, she ripped out his throat! Quick, he needs blood. Yours will help him heal faster! Otherwise, it could be too late.”

Automatically I stepped closer, already shrugging out of my coat. Behind me I heard a scuffle and a strange crunching noise. I didn’t look, as I was already rolling up my sleeve when Gideon lifted a hand, his eyes wide, and I felt a strong push by an unseen force.

I staggered back. He had used his power to remove me. He didn’t want my blood; he’d rather die than drink from me? Why did this feel as if something had been ripped from my chest? Then I understood. Drinking from me would have completed the bond, and he didn’t want that.

Emil looked at me for a brief moment, sadness radiating from his glittering eyes, already feeding Gideon from his wrist. Wrong. Unconsciously, I rubbed the heel of my hand against my chest.

Someone took my arm. The Conte’s silver coat was splattered all over with blood; some was even on his face. He led me away, and I numbly followed him. “We both lost someone precious to us tonight, who didn’t belong to us; maybe would never belong.”

I didn’t know what to say, or who he was speaking about.

“Mariella wasn’t herself ever since she came back to us from that place. She wasn’t my beloved childe anymore, and now I had to kill her like a rabid dog.”

“Mariella?” Then I understood. “Sapphire.”

“That was what the monster called her, yes. How do you know that name?”

“I--I was there—I killed him.”

“You killed the Lykan?” The conte tightened his grip on my arm. “I heard it was someone from Caspian’s clan. No one told me it was Konstantin’s One Childe. I’m in your debt, young vampire, then.” He looked contemplatively at me. “Do you like Venice?”

“Er...what? I, I don’t know. I haven’t had the time to like or not like it. I downloaded a map, though.” I looked back at Gideon and Emil, but I couldn’t see them. Too many people were crowding around them.

The conte pulled me further away. “How about getting some distance from everything that happened? Do you want to explore my beautiful, doomed city? Discover her secrets?”

I stared at him uncomprehendingly.

He gestured at some of his soldiers. “Remove the ungrateful fool and his entourage from the premises and send them back to their master. They are to leave as soon as possible.” He glared at the backs of the vampires hiding my clan members. “One’s bloodsong is sacred, bestowed upon us by the fates.” He slashed the air with his hand. “I saw the incomplete bond and the fear in this fool’s eyes. I won’t tolerate a coward rejecting a gift I have been waiting for for centuries!” He turned to me. “I think you need time to decide about your future steps. How about I’m inviting you to stay with us?”

“Why would you do that?”

He pulled a ring with a blue stone from his middle finger and dropped it into a pocket of his pants. “A feeling? Misery seeks company? To be honest, I don’t know. What I do know is that I like you, and I would love to show you my Venice.”

It felt like the right decision. “Okay.”

“The wolf is your guard?”

I nodded.

“Then he can stay too.”