Devil's Dream

by Shayne Silvers

  I could practically taste his curiosity as he told me where to meet. “But don’t you need to wait until sunset?”

  I grinned. “Only the kids have to worry about sunlight, Stevie. But some shade would be preferable. Tans don’t work with my wardrobe.”

  He burst out laughing. “I’ll bet. One hour. You know how to get there?”

  “I’ve got a map and a phone. I’ll figure it out.”

  “This better not be a trap, Sorin. That won’t go well for you.”

  “I’m here to eviscerate Dracula. If our goals coincide, all the better. If not, you’ll read about my success in the news. I’ll admit, I don’t mind making some new friends along the way. I’ve been making plenty, as a matter of fact,” I said, thinking back on my neighbors underground.

  “Friends…” Stevie mused. “That’s a dangerous word.” I grunted my agreement. “Protocol requires me to have security in place. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Not unless they do something to annoy me or get in my way.”

  “You’re pretty goddamned honest, you know that? Blunt might be too fine a word to describe you.”

  “Truths work best—and are deadliest—when no one believes them. The blade that cuts both ways shows no mercy for ignorance.”

  He grunted. “Right. I have no idea what that means, but we’ll see you in an hour.”

  25

  I stood in the shade beneath a massive tree in a place called Central Park. Colossal buildings formed a wall around the wooded landscape, boxing it in on all sides, but the park was large enough to almost feel like I had stepped out of the city and back into a world more resembling the one I had left.

  As long as you ignored the unceasing honking from the hundreds of cars filling the streets around the perimeter. Or the hundreds of people walking around.

  I saw elegant structures nestled deeper into the wooded park, but I didn’t have time to go see them up close. Sprawling walkways crisscrossed the wooded hills, and men and women in brightly colored, tight-fitting clothes jogged down the paths everywhere I looked—although I saw no one pursuing them, which was odd. Why run if you weren’t being chased.

  It was all highly suspicious.

  It was an overcast day, so my umbrella had gone largely unremarked. I knew for a fact that clouds were not always protection from sunlight, so I had chosen to walk the entire way here with it raised, protecting me from any potential breaks in the cloud cover. One thing I hadn’t factored in was the natural shade cast down from the buildings—skyscrapers, as I had heard them called.

  Meaning I merely had to choose the shaded side of the street in order to walk freely during the day. The umbrella was almost pointless—as long as it wasn’t high noon with the sun directly overhead.

  As requested, I hadn’t ventured deeply into the park, remaining close to the street where Stevie had told me to meet him. I glanced down at my phone, checking the time. I had never truly needed to judge time by a number, having spent most of my time in my castle or living with the Native Americans—who gauged the time of the day by the angle of the sun.

  A large black vehicle pulled up on the street and Stevie climbed out, motioning me over. I nodded, studying the large car—which was unlike any of the cars I had seen so far. It could fit three rows of people as opposed to two, and it was much taller. Judging by the number of heartbeats I sensed inside—and the overwhelming smell of werewolf—they had filled the car to the max, leaving only one seat open.

  For me.

  I walked up to Stevie with a polite smile. He wore jeans and boots like me, but had a checkered collar shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. He glanced down at my feet and smiled. “You found shoes!” he said, clapping his hands.

  “And a shirt,” I said, lifting my arms to show it off.

  He laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. He studied my umbrella, his humor slowly replaced with concern. “If it’s that simple, why don’t more of your people use those?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m special. Umbrellas aren’t enough protection for most of my kind. And it’s not just the sun’s light that harms us. Most of my kind grow deliriously tired the moment the sun rises—even if they’re underground.”

  He studied me pensively. “But not you,” he said flatly.

  “I’ve been around for a while.”

  He grunted. Then his eyes locked onto the crucifix on my neck. “You’re kidding. None of you can do that. I’m pretty sure even…your nemesis can’t do that,” he said, not wanting to say Dracula’s name in such a public place.

  When I had given away all my jewelry, the simple crucifix necklace had slipped under my shirt. I hadn’t even realized it until I got back to my hideout. Knowing how uncomfortable it made people feel to see a vampire unharmed by a religious artifact, I’d chosen to keep wearing it.

  I smiled mischievously at Stevie’s concern. “That is correct. Dracula can’t,” I said, speaking his name clearly. It was daytime after all. Any potential spies lurking in the park would have drawn attention to themselves by spontaneously bursting into flame.

  He studied me warily, as if reconsidering how wise it was to get involved with me. “I’m beginning to think I was very lucky last night,” he finally said.

  I nodded. “You used your logic rather than your emotions. That is a rare and admirable trait, and it will take you very far in life. I’ll cut straight to the point since I can tell that you are concerned. I called you for assistance. If you are unable or unwilling to assist, why did you agree to meet me? With or without you, I’m going after my target. But my chances of success improve with allies.” I paused. “As long as they rely on rational logic rather than passionate feelings.”

  After a considerable pause, he finally nodded. Then he lifted a hand to reveal a black, canvas bag. “I need you to put this hood on so you can’t see where we’re going. I’m also going to need to take your phone and check you for bugs.”

  I frowned. “How dare you accuse me of having bugs? I bathed last night. In a shower. It was delightful.”

  His smile faltered. “Um. Bugs, like electronic recording devices or trackers. Like they have in phones. I’m not talking about insects.”

  I blinked. “Oh. Of course. This is a new burner I picked up,” I said, proud to use the modern term Nosh had told me as I flashed him my phone. “The only call I made was to you earlier. I had just taken it out of the box.”

  He took it and pressed a few buttons before clicking it shut. “I’ll hold onto it just in case.” I shrugged. Then he took out a metal wand—much like the ones the guards at the auction had used. He began waving it up and down my legs and arms, then up my neck and back. It made a faint whining sound as he moved it over the surface of my body, but that was about it.

  Finally, he held out the black hood, permitting me the honor of blindfolding myself. I met his eyes, not blinking and not accepting. “I hope this isn’t an elaborate plan to betray me, Stevie. That won’t go well for anyone.” I took a measured step forward and extended my hand for him to shake mine in agreement. “I’m a man of my word, Stevie. I mean you no ill will and will give you ample warning if that ever changes.” Stevie slowly nodded, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. “And you will do the same, correct? None of those big scary wolves in the back intend to club me the moment I step into your car?”

  He shook his head, clenching his jaws. “If we meant you harm, we would have simply invaded your hideout. Think about this from my perspective, Sorin,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “Here’s what the werewolves know. You—a vampire—show up out of nowhere and kill a werewolf—Ralph—with minimal effort over a territorial dispute.”

  “Ralph was unspeakably rude and ill-mannered,” I added.

  Stevie nodded. “True. Then you defend another werewolf—me—from two fellow vampires.” I nodded, fully aware of his concerns. “Then you demand a meeting with the Crescent and tell me you want to kill Dracula. Then you agree to meet with me outside in daylight while wear
ing a crucifix. Any of that sound a little strange to you?”

  “I understand,” I sighed, nodding.

  “Good. Because my fellow wolves think it’s very strange. That you might just be trying to discover the location of the Crescent so that you can lead your fellows right to our front door. That kind of information is well worth sacrificing a few underling vampires in an alley last night to buy my trust.”

  I took another step forward, extending my hand more forcefully as I glared at him. “I am a man of my word, Stevie. I meant everything I said to you. Tell me that you are a man of yours, and that you aren’t intending a trap for me. Otherwise, we can call this quits right now. I have only one purpose, and my energy is fully devoted to that purpose. I want nothing more than to eradicate every vampire in town. Except for myself, obviously,” I admitted.

  “You want to take over New York City for yourself?” he asked, frowning.

  “I just want to right a wrong,” I said, avoiding his actual question. Because I didn’t have an answer to it. Did I want to take over New York City? I might not have a choice in the matter. I might need to take over in order to withstand Dracula’s armies.

  He finally nodded and shook my hand. His palm was hot and calloused, dwarfing mine. “No wolf will harm you unless you attack them first. Or provoke them. They are nervous about you, so I would avoid provoking anyone.”

  “No teasing,” I agreed. “And no teaming up with my sworn enemy to put you and your fellow wolves in danger.”

  He nodded. “Then we have a deal.”

  We stood that way for about a minute, listening to a rather obnoxious bird chirping at us from a nearby tree. Neither of us spoke.

  “You still want me to put the hood on,” I finally said.

  He nodded. “It would be better for everyone.”

  I sighed. “This better be good, Stevie. I’m not a fan of submission.” I tugged the hood over my head and was suddenly unable to see a thing—which was a strange sensation for a vampire. I was accustomed to being able to see in the dark.

  “Then you’re coming to the right place. Werewolves only submit to our alpha or those above us,” he said, chuckling as he guided me by the elbow towards the open door.

  “I’m well aware of how your kind operates,” I mused. “I used to be good friends with a werewolf,” I said.

  “Oh? What happened to him?”

  I thought about it, unsure how to answer. “Our past caught up with us, tore us apart, and ruined our lives. I think. I never found out what happened to him.”

  “Maybe I know him,” Stevie murmured from behind me as I climbed into the seat. I scooted across the leather until I bumped up against a large body. The werewolf sniffed at me curiously, but I ignored him as Stevie continued. “What was his name? We might need to verify your story.” I could sense the powerful thuds of werewolf hearts from my fellow passengers, although I couldn’t see anyone.

  I shrugged as Stevie climbed in behind me and closed the door, boxing me in. “Lucian.”

  The car grew alarmingly silent as I felt every heartbeat ratchet up alarmingly fast. I began to grow uneasy, fearing they were all about to shift and simultaneously attack me.

  They recognized the name, obviously. But the silence didn’t necessarily make that a good thing. “Impossible,” Stevie finally said. “He died hundreds of years ago.”

  I nodded. “Yes. He was the first werewolf in the United States. I brought him here.”

  Again, the tension in the vehicle was a physical presence, and I had to fight not to tear off my hood, wanting to keep an eye on everyone. That would, of course, be taken as an act of hostility.

  “Drive,” Stevie muttered, sounding distracted.

  The rest of the car ride was silent, which I took for a good sign.

  26

  I sat on a stool in the middle of a vacant warehouse that smelled vaguely of sawdust. The werewolves had taken the hood from my face once inside the safety of the building, and I counted over two-dozen werewolves within eyesight. Thankfully, most of them were lounging on couches or chairs a good distance away, leaving me to sit with only Stevie and two others. But every werewolf in the room was watching and listening, no matter how far away they sat. Benefits of enhanced senses. And they all watched me like a fox in the chicken coop.

  Not necessarily in an aggressive manner, but they definitely were not friendly looks.

  I had spent the last hour telling them my story and answering Stevie’s follow-up questions.

  Two of his lieutenants listened in. A short, ridiculously muscular black man named Benjamin wore a perpetual grin and his hair was meticulously groomed into a flat surface on top that looked thick enough for me to set a cup on. His eyes were so light of a brown that they almost looked orange, seeming to glow against his deep brown skin.

  A tall, curvaceous woman named Natalie wore tight jeans and a thin, long-sleeved shirt that hung loosely enough to show off one shoulder and her collarbone—which was incredibly distracting to a vampire. She had bright green eyes and short, blonde hair that was cut in a solid line at ear-level to form sharp points down her jaw.

  I told them everything I’d learned since I’d awoken underground—that the vampires were led by a man known as the Necromancer, and that he lived in the Museum of Natural History. That this Necromancer had sent Mina Harker to an auction to acquire Deganawida’s magical journal and that she’d managed to send it off to him before I killed her. That Mina had framed me for murdering Nosh’s parents and that Nosh was currently with the police trying to get some answers.

  I’d played aloof to what the journal contained because it was none of their business and because I wasn’t entirely sure why the vampires wanted it so badly. I surmised that telling the werewolves that the journal possibly contained an explanation about my ability to procreate and make baby vampires would get me instantly torn to pieces, so I had left out that detail.

  Understandably, the tension and suspicion in the air was thick enough to poke with a stick. Because Stevie had already commanded seven wolves to step away to call their contacts in order to verify some of my claims, not wanting to take my word for it. I didn’t blame them.

  It sounded downright ridiculous, even to me. And every answer I gave only seemed to bring up more questions, invariably leading back to me.

  My story before waking up beneath Grand Central Terminal.

  But I didn’t have time to get into my life story. I needed to get to the Necromancer before he sent the journal off to Dracula.

  The werewolves had seemed particularly impressed—and doubtful—that I had killed Mina Harker. Until my story, they had thought she ran the city. When I had mentioned that Nosh took her fangs and could corroborate my claim, one of the wolves had stepped out to try getting a hold of him on my burner phone.

  He hadn’t answered, which was mildly concerning because it had been almost an hour ago and he hadn’t called back.

  Stevie was leaning over a table covered in a map of the city. I saw a dozen red circles drawn on the map, marking locations. He pointed at one with a thick finger, thumping the table three times. “We had the museum marked as one of their hideouts, but we weren’t sure how significant it was.” He leaned back, scratching at his beard. “The place is a fortress. You think you can just walk in there with your vampire membership card and kill him?”

  I frowned. “Well, I don’t have a membership card, and there might be a few additional steps, but yes. I need to get to this Necromancer, get the journal back, and find out what he knows about Dracula. How I can get to him.”

  Stevie watched me like I was some strange creature he’d never seen before. “Dracula isn’t in America. Everyone knows that.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but I need to be certain before I waste six months on a boat and then another few months trekking across the country to invade his fortress.”

  Stevie frowned. “Why wouldn’t you just fly there?”

  I grunted. “I’m not back to full str
ength, and no one can fly that far. Have you not met any vampires before?” I asked, frowning.

  Benjamin cleared his throat. “Bro’s never heard of a plane before, boss.”

  I glanced from one to the other, shrugging. “What’s a plane?”

  Stevie blinked and then nodded. “Right. I forgot. Because you’re hundreds of years old.”

  Natalie leaned forward. “It’s like a ship but it flies in the sky. You could get overseas in twelve hours or less, depending on where you’re going and if it is a direct flight.”

  I stared at her. “That’s incredible…” I murmured, shaking my head. That changed everything.

  “Although you might wait in line for six months at JFK,” Benjamin chuckled.

  Natalie nodded her agreement, smirking at the confused look on my face. “He’s exaggerating.”

  Stevie clapped his hands, drawing our attention. “You need to help us understand, Sorin. You say you knew Lucian, personally.” I nodded. “That you can stand against Dracula because you made him—even though no one has ever heard of you. It all just sounds too god to be true.”

  I leaned back in my chair, empathizing with his dilemma. “I know you have questions, and that you need answers to trust me.” They nodded eagerly, leaning forward. Even the wolves back on the couches grew quiet, listening in. “But I need you to focus. We’re on limited time before the Necromancer sends that journal to Dracula and out of the city for good. I’ll give you a quick summary of my story, but none of us has time to read my autobiography. We’ve already been here for an hour and we’re no closer to getting the Necromancer. If we can get the journal back and kill the Necromancer, I’ll host a party and tell you everything. If you can’t agree to that, then I’ll have to find another way to take him down. On my own.”