Clan Novel Nosferatu: Book 13 of the Clan Novel Saga by Gherbod Fleming

Author:Gherbod Fleming [Fleming, Gherbod]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampires, horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2019-05-16T06:00:00+00:00

Friday, 24 September 1999, 10:00 PM

The underground lake

New York City, New York

The taste of salt. Water puffing up his atrophied lungs. The quiet whispering of the earth.

Calebros floated several feet below the surface. He let words float in and out of his mind like gentle swells in a tidal pool: One in a minute, and one in an hour. Walk a mile in but seconds to deliver my letter. Tell me, oh wise one, which way do I go?

He hoped the earth would whisper an answer to him, but it was not to be. Calebros allowed the words to wash from him again. Surely the Prophet of Gehenna could have been more dignified than to have left them a silly children’s riddle. Or perhaps the Nosferatu was merely irritated because he had not solved a silly children’s riddle.

The taste of salt. Water puffing up his atrophied lungs. The quiet whispering of the earth.

He must relax. The riddle, if it was part of the puzzle, would fall into place. Eventually. Or it would not. Even if it did not, as those surrounding it did so, the truth of what the missing piece contained would become evident. So many of the pieces had already come together, yet still there were many holes.

Emmett had provided many of the pieces and helped Calebros to place them. The younger broodmate would be back soon. He was nearly done with his work in the West, nearly finished with Benito. Although Emmett was not the most patient of Kindred, his presence would ease Calebros’s mind.

Other matters, more concrete and immediate than a riddle, remained up in the air. The Sabbat were growing restive to the south. They grew increasingly aggressive toward Baltimore each and every night. Soon they would pounce, which was why Pieterzoon and Bell had set in motion a desperate plan. They had reached an uneasy alliance with Prince Michaela of New York—prince of Wall Street, perhaps, Calebros had scoffed, but not of the rest of the city, God knows—and would attempt to shift the Camarilla forces north when opportunity presented itself. Calebros estimated their chances for success at fifty percent, and that because he was feeling charitable.

On other fronts, there was no word from Jeremiah since Syracuse. Had he come to harm? After confronting Victoria in Atlanta, Anatole had fallen upon his clansman. Prince Benison, and slain him. Had he done the same to Jeremiah once the Nosferatu had led the Prophet to the cave that both Ramona and Hesha had described? There was no way to know. At what point, Calebros debated, should he send someone to find out? The uncertainty gnawed at him like rats after the last sliver of flesh upon a bone.

The taste of salt. Water puffing up his atrophied lungs. The quiet whispering of the earth.

At least Hesha was doing well. The turmeric root was working its magic, though the going was slow and painful. Each night, Pauline burned Hesha, cleansed with fire and root the corruption of the Eye, allowing the blood to do its work.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.