Two minutes had passed.
Ever tolerant, Lucian focused on the hard knuckles of his opponent, seething eyes, the silver-plated walking-stick brandishing closer to his face. Endless prattle going on and on. Moments like these made him question the wisdom of joining forces with a traitor. The more the man raged, the more he betrayed himself as a coward. A vulture that had been pushed too far, the posture slouched, the neck leaning forward slightly. One of these days, the spine would crack...
"Three days behind schedule!" Kraven seethed through his teeth. He was a lanky vampire, his hair black with an uncharacteristic gloss, his accent marred by the tendency to over-exaggerate every word, every setback. There was almost a dent in the cobblestone where he'd been pacing. "Three days! How do you expect me to deal with this kind of..."
"I do not, cousin," he interrupted. "Now get to the point. I have a ship to catch."
It was the wrong thing to say.
He knew that.
As always, there was a shocked interval as Kraven processed the words, the face starting to contort around what could only be described as an pubescent explosion. Counting the seconds away, Lucian made good use of the time, unobtrusively scrutinising his surroundings...
It was the first time he had seen St. Matthias Church in almost twenty years, the courtyard empty save for themselves. All surprisingly eerie, considering their guise as the most feared creatures of the night. Above him, the church of the lady rose out of the scaffolds, the stone entrance flanked by timber and workman's tools. The workers had finished rebuilding it in the last year, the neighbouring buildings torn down, the walls recreated in their original form. Only the final touches left in the aftermath. Magnificent, he thought. His gaze did not stop there. In the distance, the fires were lit around Buda Castle, hinting at the destruction of the royal seat almost fifty years ago. Unsurprisingly, the Hungarians had rebuilt that as well...as soon as the timbers had collapsed. Of course, the new design was far more austere than the previous Baroque one. Then again, the architects were no longer running after a Viennese queen.
Exhaling, Lucian looked forward again. As if focusing on architecture could change the air of this meeting...
...or the spit.
"A ship?" The vampire sneered in his face, spittle flying, fists on the verge of shoving him back against the coach. Clearly, the only thing stopping him was the memory of the last time he had struck the lycan master. Or almost struck him. "That ship would have been gone if it were not for me."
Lucian checked his watch. "We do what we must, Kraven."
Oh yes, we do what we must, he thought. Another fleck of spit landed on his skin. It was taking all of his willpower not to wrestle that stick away and use it as a stopper on the vampire's throat.
"We?" Kraven snarled, snapping the walking stick against the cobblestone. The two pieces fell to the ground, rolling beyond their circle. "Do you have any idea what I had to go through to set this up? What I always have to go through?"
Lucian did not answer, merely wiping his thumb across his jaw, passing his gaze over Soren and the twelve deathdealers around him, all of his boredom showing and only a margin of his irritation. That one he wanted to hang from the bell tower. They were still standing too close to the coach, his ears picking up every creak, every drunken moan from behind the door as Raze briefly lifted the coat. Keep talking, Kraven. Keep talking loud. Seemingly unaffected, he gestured to the church. "Shall we?" It was their oldest meeting place.
YOU ARE READING
Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)
FanficBudapest 1899. A love story set in the Underworld between Lucian, leader of the lycan Horde, and an unknown vampire with the gift of bloodsight. While bartering with Lucian, Tanis comes out on the wrong end of a ruthless deal. Desperate, he barters...