40

Stefan went outside.

He really didn't want to stay in four walls, even in such beautiful ones ...

Especially since Stefan is very good at running, despite the fact that he recently plumped up ...

There was a forest everywhere, a very beautiful northern forest.

The nature of Sweden has always been very much loved by Stefan's heart.

The guy, walking among the trees, for some reason remembered the Second World War.

— ... I'll check if the path is clear and only then I'll call you!— says the father.

Wearing a black cape that was the same color as the ground, Bjorn quickly leaves.

— Dad, no!— throwing open the door, Stefan runs out of the bunker.— I know you're leaving! The bunker is a safe place, why do we need to leave?—

An explosion burns my back, and a bullet enters his chest ...

... When the tree was all in bloody tears, Stefan came to his senses.

— Hello, son of the snow ghost... Are you the only one here?— a man was sitting behind a big oak tree sharpening a sword.—You don't know me, but I know you. I saw you as a mortal. I'm Everard.—

— Everard... I know you, I think... I heard about you from my father. If necessary, I'll call Bjorn.—Stefan told him.

— I wouldn't mind. The road was bad. But it was for him that I came.— the whetstone sparkled, again intersecting with the canvas of the sword.

Stefan ran up.

— Dad, there...— he called out to Bjorn, who came out.

— I know. Go home, Steph. If you want, go somewhere before sunset. When it gets dark, you need to be at home...—

Bjorn went down with a quick step.

It's a strange feeling when in addition to this family there is someone else, just humanly dear...

Everard Gray was Bjorn's own brother, the difference in their age is about fifteen years.

When Everard grew up, and Bjorn was still very young, the brothers' mother took Everard and went with him to what is now called Great Britain.

— Well... How are you?— Everard looks with sadness in his eyes and with concern.

At such a distance, the threads should have been lost, but not always in the world everything is as it should be.

— As normal as it can be...—Bjorn said.— We fight, we run away and it's like a carousel again...—

— And what is she like?—Everard asked.

— It's worth following. Although we are different, but she is the one who can be followed into the flames...—Bjorn stood up.— And here is our queen...—

Olga raised an eyebrow in perplexity:

— I wonder what this means?—

— This is my brother Everard. He wanted to meet you.—Bjorn said.

—Then why is he hiding?— asked the wolf.

In the light of the sun, her hair looked like real honey gold.

This passing ray of sun created a shining cloud around her hair.

— I wasn't hiding, I was waiting for you. I was waiting for the moment to see you, more precisely. The Ice Warriors sent me to guard you. Our father, Gaius Cornelius, will be arriving soon...—Everard said.

— That is... Is Guy really your father?—Olga asked.

— He gathered us. And he's a real father to me. Bjorn and I have only one mother. And when Bjorn is not around, I am a kind of secretary in the Order of the Ice Warriors, I run errands and pass Guy's thoughts to other of us... I have some opportunities in this regard...—Everard pointed to his temple.

There was a barely noticeable mole in the form of an eye.

—Ah, so you're a telepath... And it shows up on the skin... Are you the son of a witch or something?—Karsten said with bewilderment.

— Yes, I know, no luck...—Everard sighed.

— Why is that? Sometimes such flaws can be very useful. If you've come to guard me, then follow me.—Olga waved her hand.— And Guy is here, he came an hour ago... —

***

— You didn't kill the crown to the end, that's the main problem, Queen of the north.—Everard said, sitting down on one of the chairs and leaning on his sword with both hands.

—It's split into pieces! We split the crown with a sword...—Maria looked at the sign on her hand.—Can't a sword do all the things you said about it, Mom?—

— I don't know what to answer you now, dear...—Olga frowned.

— Your sword, Maria, can kill absolutely anything. And at the same time, he can resurrect absolutely everything. That's such a strange thing...—Everard smiled.

— And I didn't know about it...—Michael said indignantly.— How does he know everything?—

—I'm older than you, albino.—Everard said, grinning.— Even more than you could imagine... If you tried to get into it, your tiny brain would leak out...—

— Hey, ladies! We'll talk first, then we'll swear!—Maria stood up, toying with one of Christophe's clubs.

Mathias hissed in confirmation of the seriousness of the hostess's words.

Christophe laughed.

***

Maria went to wash her hands after breakfast and noticed steam streaming from the sink.

—You haven't practiced with a sword since yesterday?—Michael appeared behind her.

— You could have warned me that you were going to the women's bathroom, you pervert!—Maria squeaked indignantly.

— The house is mine. And since when did you turn into a prude?—Gustavsson asked in surprise.— Oh, come on, you don't need to show your fangs, honey, I was joking! —

— But was I joking? I didn't drink blood today, my dear...—Maria smiled, showing her fangs.

—Not that!—Michael shouted, jumping back against the wall.— I just wanted to say that you need exercise and nothing more.—

Maria was a little surprised by how quickly he got scared of what he used to like.

— If you want to spar with me, in twenty minutes in the yard. —

***

Michael still showed up for sparring.

— It seemed to me that you wouldn't want to catch my eye anymore out of fear...—Maria smiled.

— Why is that? I want to see you. I always want to see you...—

Michael stopped instantly when he saw Everard from above on one of the balconies.

—You're not afraid of me, then... You're afraid of people like Everard... Purebloods... In a way. Some are infused with vampire blood instead of their blood, such become at the level of purebloods and, by the way, I'm the same. Purebloods know how to control blood.— smiling, Maria began to tell.

— And burn the blood to ashes. For some reason you didn't do that to me. No, I'm not complaining, but... It's kind of weird... I thought vampires were less human to those who were trying to learn something about them.—Gustavsson parried the blow and the steel lets out a long wail, begging for mercy.

— We need to be stronger!—Maria's eyes lit up with a wild fire.— Come on! —

— No!—Michael waved it away.

He suddenly bulged and the albino began to vomit blood.

Blood from coughing and vomiting poured over the white skin, creating a strong contrast.

Scarlet spray flew everywhere.

— Michael... Michael!— hiding the sword, Maria rushed to Gustavsson.—I hope it's not me? Michael! I didn't do it, did I?—

— Believe me, the problems here are purely mine!— Michael wiped himself with a silk handkerchief.— Tuberculosis. I don't remember exactly when I picked it up for a long time.—

— Why didn't you tell me about it right away?—Maria asked. She sat down on the ground next to me.— Come on, I'll help. It will be easier...—

The vampire cut her palm and squeezed the blood into a plastic cup.

— Should I drink this?—Gustavsson looked incredulous.

— And you'd better do it yourself, otherwise you'll have a hard time!—Maria shoved the glass at him.

Michael pressed his lips to the glass, wincing with disgust.

The blood was disgustingly hot and salty.

Nausea constantly rolled up.

— If you spit it out, I'll hit you!—Maria said.

The last of the glass slipped into the throat with difficulty. Michael dropped the cup and fell to the ground, choking in a fit of coughing.

— I know...—Maria said calmly.— The taste is not the best. But there is no other way... —

***

Everard left and returned some time later.

— Here. — he threw a folder on the table.—Everything I have is for the crown's heart. Collected about a couple of years.—

— Are you kidding me? It's Wentworth! He's dead.—Olga said, throwing the photo away in disgust.

— Depends on how you look at it. You don't have to be always dead or always alive. It's just that consistency is not so fashionable in our world...—Everard sighed.— Witches, witches... There are a lot of ways to get back in these worlds... If one way doesn't help, you can try again... Wentfort Karsten is alive and it's only a matter of time before he remembers who he was before and who he has become now... If his memories come back to him, he will become again... He will become a real monster...—