Genevieve went for Rudiger, and collided with him, arms going around him, pushing aside the deadly horn.

Together, they hit the curtain of water.

She clung tight as they plunged down, deep into the lake at the bottom of Khorne's Cleft. Under the surface, it was quiet, all sound m.u.f.fled.

She could stay under longer than the graf.

She could drown him. But he was struggling, fighting her.

Underwater, he was strong, pushing her away. She felt the point of the horn sc.r.a.pe across her thigh, the silver stinging like a lashworm eating in the wound.

They broke the surface, and the noise was unbearable. Rudiger was shouting, and the water was hammering down around her.

Her blood was all around her.

Rudiger ducked under, and she saw his boots kick the air as he went down. She trod water, paddling with her arms.

Rudiger rose from the waters, horn held in both hands like a heavy sword, angling down at her.

She knifed her legs, and twisted out of the way, and the horn stabbed the unresisting water.

Making a fist, she punched Rudiger in the side, feeling but not hearing his ribs give way. He turned like a wounded fish, and stabbed out, forcing her back. A wave hit her, and she had to keep her balance. The horn came for her again, and she swam back.

She found rock behind her, and the waterfall pressed her down.

Slowly, thinking her pinned down, Rudiger came for her, horn ready for her heart.

'Die, vampire b.i.t.c.h,' he snarled.

The horn jumped, and she let herself be sucked down.

Rudiger stabbed the stone, and she shot out her hand, latching onto his throat, feeling his stiff wet beard in her grip.

The horn broke and she hurled her whole bodyweight at the graf.

She slammed against him and he lost his fragment of horn, his hands grabbing for her hair.

She had lost her cap, and her hair was loose.

Genevieve ignored the pain in her scalp, as Rudiger wrenched. He was under her, and as she swam for the mouth of the culvert, she kept pushing the graf under the surface. He gulped down icy water, and choked out bubbles of air.

There was hard rock under her feet now, and she sc.r.a.ped the graf across it.

At the edge of Khorne's Cleft, the water flowed into a stream, and there was firm ground she could strike for.

Her eyeteeth were points of pain in her mouth, and she felt the red rage again.

She could hear the graf's heartbeat, feel the blood pounding in his throat. Her nails had dug in, and the beaten man was bleeding.

The waterfall had worn a bowl-like indentation in the rock, and at the edge of the culvert there was a ridge that almost breached the surface.

Genevieve slammed Rudiger against the ridge, cracking his spine.

She stood up, the water pouring out of her clothes, and looked down at her quarry.

He was still kicking, but he couldn't hurt her anymore.

The graf's warbow and quiver were washed away, floating down the stream. His knife was at the bottom of the lake. His grandfather's ivory trophy was broken and gone. The fight was out of him.

Behind her, Doremus emerged from the waterfall.

The need was in her throat, her heart, her stomach, and her loins.

She fell upon the graf like a beast, nuzzling his neckwounds with her mouth, and tearing through the skin, chewing into the veins with her sharp teeth.

The blood, iced cold by the water flowing around, gushed into her mouth, and she swallowed greedily.

This was not loving, this was preying.

She drank long, sucking the wounds dry, opening fresh ones, and sucking them too. She tore the graf's clothes, and ripped his flesh. She felt him shrinking inside her, sniffed his pa.s.sions as they were extinguished, swallowed him whole and digested him completely.

She heard his heartbeat slow to a halt, felt his waterlogged lungs collapse, sensed his blood slowing At once, she had dead blood in her mouth, and it tasted of ashes. She spat it out and stood up.

Graf Rudiger von Unheimlich was beyond the healing of the waters of Khorne's Cleft.

At the bank of the stream, the unicorn mare stood, amber eyes fixed upon the predator.

Genevieve felt the last of Rudiger's blood rush through her heart, and she strode through the water, kicking waves around her. The mare waited for her.

Wading ash.o.r.e, she walked up to the unicorn.

They both knew the hunt was over.

She placed her arms around the mare's neck, and rested her head next to the unicorn's, feeling the fur rise against her cheek.

She sensed that the mare was as old as she, that she had known the last of her stallions, that this was the last hunt Looking into the mare's eye, Genevieve knew it must all be over. With a sudden wrench, she turned the beast's head around, hearing its neck break like the crack of a gun.

The old mare went down to her knees, and died in peace.

There was a final reward.

She grasped the horn, feeling the nasty tingle of its silver threads, and plucked it from the mare's forehead. It came loose as easily as a ripe fruit is freed from the bough.

The red rage pa.s.sed from her like a cloud.

XVI.

'Here, Master Doremus,' Genevieve said, handing him the ivory. 'A present. A replacement for the trophy that was lost.'

He was shivering, his clothes heavy with water.

Balthus, almost completely a dog, was crouched by the dead mare. He bared his teeth, and worried the unicorn's belly.

Genevieve kicked him away, and he slipped, yapping, into the woods. He was part of the wild now, like Sylvana. The Drak Wald was well known for claiming its own.

The vampire stood between her kills, between the unicorn mare and the Graf von Unheimlich.

'This is what hunters are for,' she said, 'for killing the things that need killing, the things that have outlived their time, have gone beyond their glory.'

The ivory felt smooth and beautiful in his hands.

'Go home, Doremus,' Genevieve said, 'and bury your father. Bury him with honour. Take his name, if you want. Or Count Magnus'. Use your position to harry Mornan Tybalt, whatever'

He was still confused about all this.

'And as for him,' she said, nodding at the graf, who lay face up in the water, mouth open. 'Forget that he killed Count Magnus. Remember that he knew what he knew but let him live as long as he did. That must mean something.'

The vampire girl was different, now. Commanding, strong, confident. She didn't disgust him anymore. She was old, but she looked younger now than ever before.

'And you?' he said.

She looked thoughtful a moment. 'I'll stay here a while, and lose myself in the forests. I'm a wild thing, too.'

Genevieve reached up and kissed him, her cold lips against his. Doremus felt a thrill course through him.

'Be the man your father would have had you be,' she said.

He left her there, and made his way down, past the stream.

When he was out of her sight, he took one last look at the ivory and tossed it into the water. It sparkled on the streambed, the current flowing over it. That was a better background for the trophy than any dusty wall.

Nearing the lodge, Doremus realized the saying was true: One comes home and he alone.

end.