Such negativity! Shaithis took it as a sign of the hell-lander’s impotence. For if he and Karen had been lovers, then doubtless he’d delight in boasting how she was his cast-off, which was the way of it with the Wamphyri; in payment for which insolence Shaithis would have him gutted with middling sharp instruments, and before his living eyes feed his smoking entrails to a warrior! But however impotent he might or might not be, still the vampire Lord’s question went unanswered.
‘Very well.’ Shaithis shrugged. Then I shall assume she means nothing to you. If I thought she did I would cut away your eyelids so that you couldn’t close them, and hang you in silver chains from the walls of my bedchamber where you’d have no choice but to observe each smallest intricacy and nuance of our lovemaking – before she died from it!’
At which moment, even as he said this thing: Don’t!
The warning echoed like a gong struck in Shaithis’s mind, and he knew its source at once. Glaring across the hall at the Dark Hooded Thing, he saw that where before the interior of its hood had been black and impervious as granite, now the sulphur orbits and scarlet pinpricks of eyes were visible, unblinking, burning their message into his mind. Don’t drive them too far! I hold them enthralled, their powers suppressed, but goading them is like thrusting sharp staves under a warrior’s scales! It makes them unstable, galvanizes them, weakens my hold upon them.
And Shaithis sent back: But they’re whelmed, conquered, whipped like dogs! Which no one knows better than you; for you hold their minds like grapes in your hands, to peel or crush as you will. But as well as this I have warriors here, and my many lieutenants and thralls. Aye, and all of my creatures without, thronging on the night wind. Now tell me, pray: what have I to fear?
Only your greed, my son, and your pride, the other answered. But did you say ‘your’ warriors, lieutenants and thralls? Yours and not ours? Have I no part in your triumph, then? There were two of us, Shaithis, remember? And yet now you talk of T when you can only mean ‘we’. A slip of the tongue, obviously. Ah, but then, the tongues of all the Wamphyri are forked, are they not?
In answer to which Shaithis hissed: What do you want of me?
Only that you are not prideful, the Dark Hooded Thing told him. For I, too, was prideful in my time, only to discover that it goes before a fall.
It was all too much. Tell a vampire not to be prideful? Restrict the towering, enhanced emotions of a Being such as Shaithis? But he was Wamphyri! And to the Dark Hooded Thing: I vowed Karen’s death in a certain fashion, at my hands, in my bed. My triumph will not be complete until it has come to pass, or as nearly as possible. Also, The Dweller and his father have been my mortal enemies, whom I intend to destroy.
Then destroy them! said the other, his eyes blazing up huge, as if gorged on fire. Kill them now, but don’t torture them. For it could be that if they are driven to it. . .
Yes?
. . . I think that even they do not know their own strength, their own powers.
Shaithis was astonished. Their strength? But can’t you see that they are weaklings? Their powers? Plainly they are powerless! Aye, and I shall prove it.
He released Karen’s hair and she collapsed at his feet. And in his dreams Shaithis again turned to his captives, who throughout his conversation with the Dark Hooded Thing had stood as in a frozen tableau, held fast by vampire thralls. ‘There was a time,’ he told the pair then, ‘when the bitch Karen betrayed her rightful master -which is to say myself – and all of the Wamphyri at a stroke. Betrayed us? What? Her treachery almost destroyed us! There and then I vowed that when times and fortunes had changed I would slip a siphon into her living heart and drain her blood sip by sip. Also, I vowed that while I emptied her of her juices, I would fill her with my flesh. A double ecstasy for a most undeserving Lady. So I vowed it, so let it be!’