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The Ouroboros Cycle, Book Two: A Cautionary Tale for Young Vampires. G.D. FalksenЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Ouroboros Cycle, Book Two: A Cautionary Tale for Young Vampires - G.D. Falksen


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      Varanus began sewing shut the gash on Bates’s leg.

      “Who then?” she asked.

      “Just some toughs,” Bates said. “Been causing trouble for a mate of mine over by Saint John’s Row. We went to sort ’em out.”

      “Trouble?” she asked. “How?”

      “They wanted money,” Bates said. “To protect ’is tavern, they said. Ain’t gonna stand for that, are we?”

      He sounded sincere.

      “Did you win?” Varanus asked.

      Bates grinned against the pain and said, “’Course, doctor.”

      “Good,” Varanus said with a smile. “I have a strong dislike for bullies.”

      * * * *

      After attending to Bates and his friends, Varanus sent them on their way with a strong admonition to stay out of further trouble. She doubted very much that they would, but she hoped that they would at least confine their violent activities to sorting out interlopers and ruffians. Once a gang—for in truth, that is what Bates and his companions were fast becoming—it would not be long before they began taking the place of the criminals they had sent packing, or before they were killed in the act of clearing them off. Life had a way of staying short and bloody in the East End, however one carried out one’s affairs.

      Things were generally quiet for the remainder of the evening, save for a brief visit from a local woman and her sick child. The child’s cough, while severe, was accompanied by clear lungs and strong breathing. Varanus suspected that the local atmosphere had as much to do with the cough as any sort of illness.

      In the stillness of the late night, Varanus occupied herself with the composition of a monograph, as she often did in quiet moments. While she worked, Korbinian sat with her and read aloud from Plutarch. Ekaterine, who could not hear him, reclined on the sofa and read a copy of Gray’s Anatomy that Varanus had bought for her. It pleased Varanus that Ekaterine wished to familiarize herself with the details of their work. Indeed, her eagerness to learn was astounding in itself. Varanus had scarcely seen such a thirst for knowledge before she had joined the Shashavani.

      Around midnight the bell rang. Ekaterine stood, but before she could answer, it rang again and someone began pounding on the door. Varanus jumped to her feet in alarm.

      Whatever can be the matter? she wondered.

      Ekaterine pulled the door open to reveal a young woman—scarcely eighteen, if she was even that old—dressed in worn and dirty clothes. Both she and her dress were covered in blood, which trickled from her nose and mouth and pooled beneath the skin in great bruises across her face.

      Varanus recognized the girl as one of her regular patients, a local prostitute named Sally Conner.

      “Help—” Sally managed before tumbling forward in a swoon.

      Though startled, Ekaterine reached for Sally without hesitation and caught her before the poor girl hit the floor.

      “What have we here?” Korbinian inquired, appearing at Varanus’s shoulder. “An unfortunate in need of assistance?”

      Varanus ignored him and hurried to Ekaterine’s side. Together they carried Sally to the sofa. Varanus shut the door while Ekaterine revived Sally with some smelling salts. Presently Sally came round, waking with a start. Varanus quickly laid a hand on her chest to calm her, but Sally winced and gasped in pain, and Varanus withdrew her hand.

      “Hush,” she said. “You’re safe.”

      Sally looked around frantically for a moment before her eyes focused again, and she seemed to recognize Varanus.

      “Doctor!” she cried, grabbing Varanus by the arm. “Doctor, you must ’elp me! I don’t know where else to turn!”

      “What happened, Sally?” Varanus asked, looking her over. The girl had been beaten, severely by the looks of it. Her face and neck were bruised horribly, and God only knew what other injuries lurked beneath her clothing.

      “They’re comin’ for me!” Sally cried, hysterical. “I worked me hardest, but they said it weren’t good enough! But I tried, I did! I tried! Only ’tweren’t enough!”

      Varanus and Ekaterine exchanged glances. They both understood what had happened.

      “Did you lock the door, liebchen?” Korbinian asked. He turned his head and looked across the room.

      Varanus looked toward the door as well. She hadn’t locked it.

      A moment later, the door was flung open. A tall man of tremendous girth pushed his way in through the doorway, followed by three others of normal stature. They were dressed in shabby suits and battered hats, though their clothes were far more flash than most men of the streets—toughs with pretensions to respectability perhaps.

      Members of a gang.

      “There’s the ’ore!” the giant shouted.

      “Thought she could run,” said one of the others—a scrawny lad of perhaps fifteen. “But she can’t!”

      He and the other two shared a cruel laugh. The giant merely advanced, turning a large club over in his hands.

      “’Ere poppet…” he said, looking directly at Sally.

      Varanus rose up to her full height—which was not terribly impressive, truth be told—and planted herself directly in the man’s path.

      “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, barking like a terrier standing off against a bear.

      The giant paused for a moment and prodded Varanus with his stick.

      “Outta the way, miss,” he said. “This don’t concern you.”

      Varanus pushed the stick away with a flick of her hand and said, “This is my surgery. Get out.”

      The giant twisted his head, his neck giving an audible crack. He bared his teeth and snarled.

      “That one’s ours, an’ ain’t none o’ your business,” he said. “Now outta my way!”

      He pushed Varanus with a heavy hand, but she stood firm.

      “Sally,” Varanus said, “go into the storeroom and lock the door. Open it for no one but me.”

      “Yes, doctor,” Sally said, her voice weak and afraid.

      With Ekaterine’s help, she got to her feet and hobbled toward the back of the surgery as fast as she could manage. The giant’s three companions made to intercept her, but Ekaterine barred their way. The men laughed a little and started to push past her.

      “What has the girl done?” Varanus asked. “What crime could possibly warrant such cruelty?”

      “She owes us money,” the giant answered. “Now outta my way.”

      He pushed at Varanus again while the other ruffians shoved Ekaterine aside. Varanus exchanged looks with her and nodded. These men were not about to further abuse a woman, certainly not one of Varanus’s patients in her own clinic!

      Varanus kicked the giant in the shin, making him stumble. Across the room, Ekaterine grabbed her hat from the table and shoved it, top-first, into one man’s face, crushing the one and disorienting the other. She struck another man in the throat with her fist before grabbing the last man and throwing him into the first, knocking both to the ground. Varanus grinned at her and leapt upon the giant, punching him in the stomach with a rapid barrage of fists. The giant grunted, but the mass of fat and muscle over his stomach withstood the blows better than most. Still, to her satisfaction, Varanus felt a rib break.

      The giant drew back his club and swung at Varanus. Varanus ducked beneath the first blow and the one that followed it, but a third struck her on the side of the head and threw her onto the floor. Her vision went black for a moment.


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