“Things did happen so quickly after her passing. There was hardly time for us to mourn.” Sebastian seemed to be trying to console his friend.
“It was fortuitous that I was already enlisted to leave with Julian’s regiment. The war, the Battle of Plassey was going to be what made our fortunes. It would be what would afford me to provide a luxurious life to your sister. Instead it turned into a place I had hoped to bury my sorrows.” Marcus’s tone turned bitter. “Finding peace in a war zone surrounded by death. What could I have been thinking? Indeed, I found an eternity of mourning and of isolation from true love.” Both men fell silent, thinking of the carnage and sorrow of the war. Marcus leaned back and his coat fell open, revealing the dull wink of the ruby-hilted dagger again.
“Let us drink to your darling sister, Emma. The true love of my life.” Marcus raised his glass. “I have never loved another so deeply. Nor ever will. I have pined for her for many years.” I must tell him the truth of who Josephine is. How she is my problem. My fault. How such heavy guilt preys upon my heart. Now is not the time. Sebastian must recall we were once friends, almost brothers-in-law, family. Then I will tell him.
“I can understand the emptiness in your heart. I, too, have felt without a purpose. In fact, the most magnificent thing to come of Julian’s death was that I have met a human that shares my proclivity for inventions and all things mechanical.” Sebastian seemed to be opening up to Marcus, where he had always been a bit standoffish in days gone by. Marcus hoped to build his trust, as he needed his help to catch this supernatural killer before they were killed—or worse, revealed.
Marcus rocked his chair back on two legs and drained his goblet. He lifted his glass to the barkeep. The man frowned, but set up another round of drinks at their table. He held his fingers over one glass and tapped the table softly. Marcus spilled out six silver coins on the table. The waiter scooped them up and left.
Marcus settled his chair and leaned in over the table toward Sebastian. “How do you regard this situation, Sebastian?” He studied Sebastian’s movements and articulation. Marcus was seeing no effects of the green liquid hinder his companion. Perhaps Sebastian had a higher tolerance than most. Perhaps he merely hid the change of character that came with the unavoidable intoxication.
For himself, he was beginning to feel that lovely warm sensation of wellbeing. This was the only thing that had any effect on a vampire’s senses. This…and blood. Marcus had learned this early on. Absinthe could make you forget. Or make you remember. Either way it had its soaring highs or its devastating lows. He could feel this was going to be a soaring high. Perhaps he could forget that this was all his fault in the first place, if only for a moment.
“I do feel that you are correct in that we must take action.” Sebastian spoke clearly and distinctly. Did the Green Fairy not affect him at all? Good God, man! Sad to think he could not ever escape from life even for a moment. It must take more to knock him off balance. Sebastian started to look a bit iridescent. Marcus had no idea that a vampire could look that way. He could see the vapor of the words form and trail out of his mouth as he spoke.
“Marcus?” Sebastian reached across the table and shook his mate by the shoulders. “Marcus, are you all right?”
“Yes! Yes, fine! Why do you ask?” Marcus tried desperately to focus on his words. He stretched his eyes open as far as they would go and blinked to clear his head.
His head seemed to be wobbling, perhaps growing and then shrinking in size.
“You seem a bit…distracted. Perhaps I can take you home and we can discuss this again on the morrow?” Sebastian stood and tossed coins on the table to pay for discretion. The barkeep looked up at the clink of metal and nodded, then went back to polishing his glassware.
“Come along, Marcus. My carriage is just outside.” Sebastian hooked his arm around Marcus’s back and under his arm as he helped him to his feet. “No need to give anyone any reason to speculate upon your impairment.”
“Agreed,” Marcus mumbled as the libations continued to magnify and take their toll on the clarity of his mind.
A shiny black carriage was waiting just outside of the establishment. Sebastian swung the door open, poured Marcus into one of the plush velvet seats and stepped in to join him. The driver shut the door and stood waiting for instructions. “Drive on, Sneed.” Sneed touched his hat and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Where shall I drop you off?” Sebastian asked after several blocks passed.
“Here, by the docks.” Marcus pulled the velvet curtains back for a moment and surveyed the plethora of possibilities awaiting him. “I have yet to feed tonight. Nothing tastes so magically intoxicating as when the blood is mingled with the Green Fairy’s touch. Care to join me?” Marcus straddled two worlds of perception, but was still capable of feeding and defending himself if need be.
“No, thank you. I have my own arrangements.” Sebastian rapped his carved ivory cane handle on the carriage ceiling to signal Sneed to stop.
“As you wish.” Marcus swung open the door and tumbled out of the carriage in seeming disarray, yet lithely landing on his feet. He shook back his coat and straightened his lapels.
“We shall meet again tomorrow, my home at Blackmoor Manor. You remember it, do you not?” Sebastian invited him.
“I do. Until the morrow.” Marcus smiled, touched one point of already emerging fangs with his tongue. With a good night flourish, he disappeared into the dockside night soup of dinner choices.
Chapter Three
Slasher Kills TENTH. London Clockmaker Violently Slain. Police Stumped. Royal College of Medicine Collaborate to Catch Killer
Sebastian’s vampire vision skimmed the Times article in seconds and began to reread from the top. He settled the bone china teacup back in the saucer, dabbed at the corners of his mouth and covered the gilt rim of the vessel with his folded napkin. Habit. The servants all knew of his “condition”, yet he took great pains to not alarm them with the indelicacies of the details. Theo was also aware of his preferences.
It was not easy to live amongst humans, but he knew how to disguise his needs. He had always been kind to the staff, so they did as he asked without question when he returned from the war. At first they whispered about battle fatigue and melancholia, moved softly and pitied him, thinking only that the odd quirks he had developed and his habit of dining alone or requiring absolute privacy were due to his experiences in the war. They served him as faithfully as they always had.
Eventually, as daughters replaced mothers in the household and sons replaced fathers on the estate, the whispers of Sebastian being one of the undead began to bear out into truth. On many occasions they had seen him disappear for years and upon return never appear to be a day older or scarred in any way. While hunting for game, one of the original Sneeds stumbled upon Lord Hawthorne feeding upon a stag in his forests. From that point on, the servants pledged their allegiances to Sebastian to keep his secret if he would protect them in return.
The generations of servants that followed continued to be loyal to Sebastian and keep the secret that he was indeed a vampire. While they knew he was not human, they knew that the lord of the manor was fair and kind. They knew no harm would come to them if they never questioned him, kept their mouths shut and did their jobs. Thus, constant samovars of warm pig’s blood stood on the buffet sideboard table strictly for his nourishment.
A thin coagulated blood ring in the bottom of the porcelain was all that was left of his breakfast ritual. He read on.
London police have solicited the help of the Royal College of Medicine in hopes the surgeons, physicians and even students may help contribute to solving their most baffling case. The police stress that the strength of this fiend is of such power that it could only be an extremely large male to inflict so much gruesome and vicious injury. They go on to say that no one is safe at this point. The previous victims have ranged from high
standing patrons of society, men of commerce, of industry, lawyers, barristers, and the madam of a local known brothel. The most recent killing is an outstanding craftsman. The victim’s specific identities are being withheld due to the shockingly unnatural nature of the crimes.
Sebastian peered at the sketches that accompanied the article. Even in the black and white of the print, the depiction of the victims were enough that a mortal with even the strongest of resolve would definitely be hard pressed not to retch. The newspapers delighted in such sensational fare. The delicate etchings depicted the kills. Each one was more grisly and heinous than the next. Detached limbs, exposed internal organs, great black patches to indicate pools of blood all seemed perfect to appeal to the public’s insatiable hunger for gore.
Sebastian gave the ironed paper an exasperated thump with his finger. “Lurid,” he murmured in an irritated tone. “Lurid sensationalism.”
He knew that this was not the kind of murder that a natural human being could execute. He had seen this sort of killing before. It was the carnage those that were no longer human could unleash. The undead were afoot. Marcus was correct. The realization that he was not alone after the death of his brother Julian was chilling. They must find this new blood brother. And stop him.
Sebastian could hear a far-away crunch. Someone was coming down the drive. The gravel in the lane flew under the wheels of Theo’s steamer-cycle. She called it her velocipede, although it had been cobbled into something quite different. The engine hooted and spouted out steam, announcing her arrival. Theo was on her way.
Theo was keeping her shop open and producing her Lifesaving Aeronautical Vespertilios. The winged invention that made safe escape from any aeronautical disaster of the great air-ships had become all the rage. The queen, while not actually sailing off using one of the vespertilios, had demonstrated her faith in their efficacy by publically shoving several of her brave Household Guards from the bridge of her own royal dirigible. One of the men had caught an upward draft and sailed as far as York. Business was so brisk Theo was training an assistant.
However, a shadow of grief still hung in her eyes. The loss of her father was an episode she would not soon forget.
Hours or time of day did not matter to Sebastian’s vampire nature and he would tinker, draw or read all the night. And the old vampires-sleep-in-home-dirt did not apply to him as this ancient manor was home to generations of his family. Probably the original mud and peat hut sheltering his primitive ancestors was pressed under the stone castle walls. Actually, he had found the dirt tale was really a myth. Perhaps it had been true for older vampires, but not for him. He’d traveled the world round, and seldom missed his repose, not that he needed any.
But Theo had to supervise her shop and get some rest. She had so far resisted Sebastian’s suggestions that she move her domicile to his more spacious manor house. He had suggested she set up her workshop in one of the out-buildings and keep her storefront for meeting with customers. In hopes she would agree, Sebastian had one of the old closed suites opened, its many rooms cleaned and refurbished, stirring more gossip amongst the servants. Theo had demurred, feeling it wasn’t proper, as they were not related or married. Sebastian wondered if she was leery of his vampire nature, at least in the back of her mind, although she would probably never mention that reason.
She and her tabby cat continued to snug in the narrow old shop, the treasured sign reading Machine Emporium, Phileas Ambrose—Engineer of Gadgets, Scientific Instruments and Artisan Horologist Extraordinaire hanging on the wall. On the other wall a smaller sign: Tempus Rerum Imperator: Time is the Commander of All Things.
It seemed being in familiar surroundings kept her father near her. She had not made peace with the manner of his passing at the hand of Sebastian’s evil brother, Julian. Sebastian had come to the shop quietly one evening to find her asleep at her father’s workbench, her head cradled on his worn leather apron. Moggy, the cat, sat blinking near her head, standing watch over her mistress.
Sebastian could hear the putter and pop of her steam velocipede rounding the cobblestone drive. They had consorted on an old design of Sebastian’s to make a handy mode of transportation for Theo. She had neither the room nor the inclination for a horse and carriage, but the lure of independent transportation was irresistible. They changed the huge old-fashioned velocipede wheels to smaller ones and the manner of propulsion from human feet to a small wood or coal burning engine to produce steam.
With the help of the manor’s carpenter and blacksmith, they constructed the small steam engine, three wheels and a steering mechanism and, of course, a comfortable leather seat. With a carry box for parcels between the wheels at the rear, it made an efficient way to travel about the city, or make deliveries to customers in the city. It was another incentive and attempt to persuade her to come to reside at Blackmoor.
Theo loved it and had painted it brilliant vermillion red, with flamboyant stripings and swirls of gold on the fenders. The hinged back panel had an extravagant golden scroll reading: Machine Emporium, Theodosia Ambrose—Engineer of Gadgets, Scientific Instruments and Artisan Horologist Extraordinaire—By Royal Appointment.
She said she never felt so free as having her own way to get around the city. Sebastian had not seen the completed machine in action. He still preferred his old-fashioned mode of carriage and pony, feeling it was more tasteful for a gentleman. At times, pressed into it by some emergency, he could use his vampiric speed to move from place to place, so transportation was not a restriction.
He met her at the front steps just as she brought her machine to a roaring halt and switched off the power. The steamy snorts and puffs dwindled and died. It sat, ticking like a clock, the boiler cooling down from the trip.
“Good morning, Sebastian.” She pulled off her driving goggles and leather cap. Theo was dressed for work, in light wool trousers and linen shirt, with her craftsman apron folded beside her on the seat.
“I see you’ve finished your modifications to the velocipede and it has brought you so ceremoniously to my doorstep, Theo.” Sebastian Hawthorne took the steps two at a time, to greet her steam powered invention as much as to her.
“I finished it, Sebastian! I love it! Couldn’t wait to show you. How about a test spin later?” Theo looked a bit like an owl with the dust on her face ringing her green eyes to make them look even larger than usual. “I must construct one for you. It is ever so much more convenient than your carriage.”
Sebastian smiled and shook his head. “No, I like my carriage. Think of the horses that would be out of work if I changed. And what would Mr. Sneed do?”
“Oh, pooh to Mr. Sneed.” She laid her driving helmet, scarf and goggles on the leather seat of the machine. “I’ve left my assistant, Hannah, to do some glue work on the vespertilio wings. She is proving very adept.
“First, I must speak to you with the utmost of urgency.” Theo’s eyes suddenly flashed him a serious look. Sebastian retreated to the wide landing. Theo came up the steps quickly while pulling off her gloves. Sebastian had noticed she often did two things at once, with her mind obviously spinning on a third unrelated subject.
“Of course. Please come in.” Sebastian reached behind and pushed the wide oak door open. “Tea is ready.”
They had become great friends since their first meeting at her father’s clock making shop. Sebastian had forgotten how friends could bring succor to his existence. He had drawn away from human companionship, having watched former acquaintances grow old and die as his condition as a vampire stretched out his own youth and immortality. It was a pain he wished to avoid. He would have to consider this fact with Theo, but for now he firmly pushed the thought away.
After her father’s abduction and murder at the hands of Sebastian’s mad brother Julian, they drew together to put an end to Julian’s evil deeds. Sebastian had a large part in Theo winning Queen Victoria’s award at the Great Exhibition with her v
espertilio invention. The trade this award had brought the little Ambrose’s clockmaker shop had made her a free and independent woman. She thanked him often.
At this point, there was an unbreakable bond of trust and friendship. She knew his secret and was not afraid of him or his vampire habits. They shared a love for all things mechanical and were working their way through his notebook of sketches from almost a hundred years before with the enthusiasm of youngsters. The lure of the sketches was as if they were as freshly drawn the day before.
Theo followed Sebastian into the drawing room.
“Please, be seated.” Sebastian motioned to a silk settee. She sat and absently pulled her long, brown braid across her shoulder. It was a sign she was concerned with some matter of importance. Sebastian knew she would wind the end of the braid around her fingers as she thought.
“I’m very worried,” she began. “Do you know of others like you and your brother Julian? Other vampires?”
“I am aware of others. Pray what is your distress?” Sebastian poured Theo a cup of steaming tea. When he knew she was coming to the manor, he would have a plate of biscuits and pot of tea ready. She accepted the offered cup and took a quick sip.
“I have been following the Times stories of those murdered in London. The victims seem very similar to those we found in Julian’s lab, those he tortured and drained of their life’s blood.” She paused. “Since he died in the fire and could no longer be a suspect, I am worried there is another vampire out there that might find you. I think these killings are something we should be concerned with.”
“My dear Theo, you are always so astute.” He should have known she would have had thoughts on this already. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness regarding my safety.” Sebastian settled back into his chair.
A Clockwork Victim Page 3
