Song of the Vampire (Vanderlind Realm Book 3)

by Gayla Twist

  “I got it right here in my pocket,” he told me with a smile that revealed a ramshackle set of teeth. He gestured toward the fly on his dirty jeans. “Why don’t you reach on in there and help yourself.”

  “Excuse me?” I said. I’d heard him perfectly clearly, but I had to wonder if this sort of come-on ever actually worked on anyone of either gender.

  “You don’t have to be shy,” he said with a gleeful cackle. “You obviously want something or you wouldn’t be out in this here alley, sniffin’ around.”

  “Yes,” I told him. He did, after all, have a point. I caught his eye and held it with a steady gaze. “I would like to borrow your phone.”

  The smile froze on his face as he stared at me, his head vibrating back and forth on his sinewy neck ever so slightly as he fought against my influence. I had to admit, the man was one of the stronger willed mortals that I’d encountered in several years, barring my progeny of course; Haley had a will of steel, even as a mortal.

  The thought of my progeny made a whole host of feelings well up inside of me that must have added an intensity to my eyes because the man slowly reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “Here ya go,” he said, extending it in my direction. “My pass code is six-six-six-seven.”

  “Six-six-six-seven?” I asked. There had been a certain inflection in his voice when he’d said it, like he was letting me in on a joke.

  The man’s face fell a little. “I’m supposed to be the neighbor of the beast, but there are too many sixes.” He shook his head, obviously disappointed. “Nobody ever gets that joke, anyway.”

  “Oh.” I glanced down at the little rectangle in my hand, having absolutely no idea how to enter six-six-six-seven, let alone make a call. “You’ll have to help me,” I told him. “I’ve never used one of these before.”

  The guy was obviously surprised. “You’re kidding,” he exclaimed. “My grandpa has a cell. When were you born? Nineteen-oh-six?” He wasn’t that far off.

  It took about twenty minutes for the man to figure out how to place an overseas call. He wasn’t too pleased about it. Apparently there would be an extra charge added to his monthly bill, which he was already having trouble covering. “You don’t need to worry about it,” I assured him. “Just help me with the call and I will make it worth your while.”

  This appealed to the man and he tapped away at the triangle, making little bits of information appear on the screen and figuring things out from there. I’d seen Haley work her phone in a similar fashion many times and it was starting to occur to me that there just might be some use to having a portable phone. I thought I might allow Haley to persuade me to get one, once we were reunited and this whole mess was behind us.

  When the call finally went through, the first thing I heard was a very imperious voice saying, “Hello? Who is this? And you’d better be calling me for good reason. It’s the middle of the day, after all.”

  “Lady Darby? It’s Dorian. How are you?” I said into the little rectangle. I’d taken a chance that she was spending the late winter in her Parisian flat and fortunately, I was right.

  “How am I?” Lady Darby asked in response, sounding surprised. “Dorian, you horrible creature, I think the real question should be, how are you?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid,” I told her.

  “Of course not,” she said with a laugh. “I never hear from you when all is well. You only deign to reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

  She was right. I was shamefully guilty of such inconsiderate behavior. And Lady Darby was like an aunt to me, of sorts. She deserved better treatment. “I’m sorry,” I stammered.

  “Oh, don’t be,” was her reply. “What if you always only called me when things were going your way? Think of how boring our conversations would be. Do you think I find it interesting to hear the endless raptures of a young man in love?”

  It didn’t matter that I had been on the planet for almost a century, Lady Darby would always think of me as a young man of eighteen. And it was typical of her to know everything about my life, as well as the lives of most of the undead population, without us having spoken in at least three months. I’d consulted her when I’d first turned Haley and the two of us were having a rocky start. And then, after Haley and I came to a wonderful understanding, I’d only sent Lady Darby the briefest of notes saying that all was well. And yet, somehow, she knew that Haley and I were so much more than maker and progeny.

  I decided, for the sake of expediency, just to cut to the chase. “Lady Darby, do you have any idea as to why I’m calling?”

  There were a few seconds of silence before she said, “I assume it probably has something to do with the rumor that your progeny has a mortal mother and an undead father. And did so, even at the time of her conception.”

  “That’s impossible,” I said.

  “It’s improbable,” she corrected me. “But imagine if it were true. And all the possibilities that would go with it.”

  The temptation other vampires would feel to explore the possibility was too awful for me to think about. “Do you have any idea who might be imagining it?” I pressed.

  “Who do you believe is involved?” Lady Darby fired back.

  “Elaina,” I said. “Without a doubt. But I don’t know who is pulling the strings. Paolo, perhaps.”

  This made her chuckle. “So you feel it has to be a man behind the scenes. Is that right?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t. But she mentioned Paolo before zapping me with a Taser when I ran into her down in Antarctica.”

  “Did she?” Lady Darby exclaimed, a bit breathlessly. “She can be very determined.”

  “But is Paolo behind it?” I asked, trying to get her to focus. “Is he the one financing this whole ridiculous lie?”

  “Not that I know of,” she admitted. Or at least not that she was willing to say.

  That wasn’t the answer I was expecting; she was usually a little bit more forthcoming.

  “Lady Darby, can’t you tell me anything?” I pleaded. I didn’t know where else I could turn if she wouldn’t help me.

  There was a long pause. And then she finally said, “My darling boy, you know I adore you, but I’m afraid I just can’t help you this time.”

  “I understand,” I told her. There were powerful people involved and she didn’t want to get pulled into the vortex. “Do you at least know where I can find Elaina?”

  There was another pause before Lady Darby said in a subdued voice, “I really couldn’t begin to guess. But if you’re looking for a place to travel, I have heard that the windy city is particularly lovely this time of year.”

  “You...” I stammered. Then I simply nodded and said, “Thank you.” I remembered that Elaina had lived in Chicago back when she was a mortal; she probably still kept an apartment there.

  “Just be careful,” she cautioned me. “There’s a lot of money at stake and you know how that can sometimes make people behave recklessly. Not to mention, there are plenty of undead who would literally kill for a baby to call their own.”

  “I will,” I assured her, but all I could really think about was finding Haley.

  “Well, get going, you fool,” she said. “Go save the princess from the dragon. But be sure to call me after. I want to know every detail, and not just what I can glean from the grapevine.”

  “I will. And thank you, Lady Darby. Goodbye.” I stared at the little rectangle, trying to figure out how to end the call.

  “You push that, there,” my scruffy friend said, tapping at the screen for me.

  I’d been so focused on my call that I’d almost forgotten he was standing right next to me. “Thank you,” I said, handing him back his phone. “Would you mind telling me which state we are in?” I assumed we were in America by the accents and the architecture.

  “Alabama,” the man replied.

  “Very good,” I told him. “And, uh…” I patted my pockets. I’d promised I’d make the loan of his phone worth
his while, so it was only fair that I provide him with something, but I was short on cash.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said shaking his head. When I gave him a questioning look, he added, “Dude, go save your lady.”

  Chapter 18

  Dorian

  It took me a night and a half to fly to Chicago, plus I ended up spending a very uncomfortable day in a chicken coop. It was not the most dignified place to fill the daylight hours, but I had been flying so intently that I’d pushed it too close to sunrise and I had to go to ground in a hurry. I was being foolish, of course. There was no way I could save Haley if I was burnt to cinders. But I didn’t have time to chastise myself for being stupid until I was cuddled up with the chickens and the horrible stench of their droppings. At least I had a bit of food to keep me going, although the birds started avoiding their cozy house once I’d drained the first two. People always think of chickens as stupid creatures, but they were smart enough to avoid me.

  I was in the Gold Coast of Chicago after midnight the following evening, trying to figure out how to find my dear friend, Elaina. There were so many tall building, I knew it would be impossible to find her just by going door-to-door. I needed to act smarter.

  I landed discretely in an alley and then walked the streets with the largest skyscrapers. Elaina would want to live in something impressively shiny; that much I knew. Approaching the doorman at a likely residential building, I said, “Good evening. Would you please tell me if an Elaina Van Halen lives here?”

  “I’m not allowed to give out that kind of information,” said the man. He was wearing an oversized maroon, wool coat, white gloves and a brimmed hat that made him look somewhat like a pilot from a musical.

  “That’s perfectly understandable,” I said, fixing him with my gaze. “But I would really like to know if she lives here. Elaina Van Halen.”

  The man looked into my eyes for several moments, blinking slowly. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I can check the residence directory, but the name doesn’t sound familiar. And I think I’d remember it.”

  “Why?” I asked. Elaina wasn’t a popular name, but it wasn’t all that unusual.

  “Because of the band.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I accepted his answer at face value. I was sure that Elaina would have left an impression on the doorman. I took a moment to quiz him about the other buildings in the area that might further my quest and then released him from my control.

  Two doormen later and I had Elaina’s building. Or “Ms. Van Halen,” the doorman said and there was a very distinct inflection in his voice that let me know I was at the right place. “She has the entire thirteenth floor,” he informed me, rather affably. “But I don’t see her that often. I think she travels for business, or something.” In an aside, he added, “And has a pretty active social life.” He gave me a broad wink.

  “Is she here this evening?” I pressed.

  He gave it some thought. “I haven’t seen her, but she did have a delivery earlier.”

  “I think I’ll go up and say hello,” I told him.

  After glancing at a clock in the lobby, he said, “She’s probably still asleep.”

  “That doesn’t matter; I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me,” I said, although that statement was blatantly not true.

  “I can ring her for you,” the man offered. “Or check to see if she has her do-not-disturb on.”

  “I’d rather just go on up,” I told him. “We’re old friends and I’d like to surprise her.”

  “No.” It pained him to say the word. I could tell he wanted to block me from entering the building, but he was struggling. In all likelihood, Elaina had used her influence to give very specific instructions about who he should let into her apartment and who he should keep out. But she wasn’t there at that moment and I was fixing him with a very steady gaze.

  “She won’t mind,” I assured him. “As a matter of fact, I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

  “She’ll be delighted,” he repeated, opening the door for me.

  “Thank you,” I told him, sincerely hoping that he wouldn’t lose his job due to my influence. Or his life.

  “You need a special pass to get up to the thirteenth floor,” he informed me, hurrying over to slide a keycard across a scanner below the elevator call button so that I could step inside.

  Thirty seconds later and I was in Elaina’s apartment. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting. Maybe a hallway leading to a door or something like you find in almost any other apartment building on the planet, but there were no such formalities on the thirteenth floor. But then, I guess she wasn’t worried about thieves. Mortals who tried to rob the undead usually only lived long enough to greatly regret their actions.

  I stepped out into what I suspected to be Elaina’s living room. This suspicion was confirmed by Elaina glancing up from the couch where she was seated, looking over some papers.

  “Dorian,” she said, removing a pair of red glasses and appearing only mildly surprised by my unannounced arrival.

  “Elaina,” I said in response. Numerous questions flooded my brain, but the first one that managed to make it to my lips was, “Why are you wearing glasses?” I’d never known any member of the undead to have any kind of physical imperfection or weakness.

  Elaina pursed her lips, obviously displeased that I had pointed out her little quirk. “I wore glasses when I was younger,” she informed me. “I find that they help me feel more connected to the mortal that I used to be.” She folded down the arms of the glasses and quickly tucked them into a desk drawer, as if mildly embarrassed to be caught with such foolishness. “So, to what do I owe the honor of this surprise visit?” she asked, rising and walking over to me.

  “I’m not in the mood to play games,” I told her. “You know why I’m here. Where’s Haley?”

  She made a small grunting noise that showed her annoyance. “I wish I knew.”

  I felt my hands balling into fists. “Elaina, where is my prodigy?” I said very slowly and distinctly.

  “And I told you,” she replied, just as slowly and distinctly, “I don’t know.”

  I picked up a nearby chair and hurled it across the room, sending it smashing into a fancy mirror. “Where is my progeny?!”

  “That mirror was Venetian!” she shouted, outraged. “And I don’t know where your precious little progeny is, so you can stop trashing my apartment.”

  “Who did you give her to?” I snarled, snatching up a heavy blue glass vase.

  “That is Legras,” Elaina informed me, her eyes glued to the vase. “And if you smash it, I swear to God that I will never stop trying to stake you.”

  Her words didn’t persuade me from throwing it. I cocked my arm.

  “Dorian,” she said in a much lower voice. “Please. It was my mother’s”

  I set the vase down.

  “Haley escaped,” she said, her voice flat, as if she was suddenly bored by the whole thing. “She figured out that my plant wasn’t her father and she flew the coup in the middle of a medical examination.” Elaina made a little huffing sound, blowing air out her nose. “There are plenty of undead out there looking for her, but no one has found her yet.”

  “You put a price on her head?” I was still close to the Legras vase, and pitching it against a wall wasn’t out of the question, even if it was a cherished family memento.

  “Yes, but listen to what I’m trying to tell you; I’m not the only one.” I couldn’t tell if Elaina was being spiteful or feeling remorse. “There are at least three players who want to get a hold of your precious little progeny.”

  “But…” The weight of this information practically made the world spin. “Why?”

  She leaned in slightly, as if genuinely concerned. “Do you really not know?”

  “Because there’s a rumor that her father was a vampire, so you think maybe somehow she can have a baby?” I shook my head. “How does that even make sense?”

  “It d
oesn’t make sense.” Elaina folded her arms. “It doesn’t have to. People are acting on blind hope.”

  “Blind hope is right,” I grumbled. “More like blind stupidity.” How anyone could think it was possible for a mortal to have a baby with a member of the undead was beyond me.

  “Don’t act like you’re above it,” Elaina said. “Tell me, how much you would give to hold a child in your arms? One that was of your body, of your own blood. A child that had the Vanderlind gray eyes and that ridiculous blond hair of yours.”

  I’d never felt the craving to reproduce that many mortal men feel; I didn’t feel the desire to have a son to pass along my genetic material in some futile attempt at immortality. I was, after all, a vampire. Immortality took on a whole different meaning as a member of the undead. But the thought of holding a baby girl in my arms, one that took after her mother, filled me with a yearning that I’d never experienced during the entire time I had been on the planet. I suddenly, and quite desperately, wanted to have a child with Haley.

  “Even if that was something I wanted, it’s impossible,” I insisted. “Kidnapping my progeny, and now putting a price on her head, all because of some silly rumor…”

  “But what if it’s not a rumor?” Elaina interrupted me. “What if it’s true? Some rumors are based on the truth, or at least partially based on the truth.

  “Call off your goons, Elaina,” I told her. “I will not allow Haley to become some lab rat just on the futile hope that her father is a member of the undead.” When it looked like she was about to come back at me, I added, “Would you allow yourself to become a test subject? Especially with no real evidence to even support a tiny sliver of the rumor?”

  “I can’t call them off,” she told me. I was about to demand why when she added in a quieter voice, “I mean I won’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Elaina had looked haughty, or angry, or almost bored since I’d snuck into her apartment, but now her face contorted dramatically, almost as if she was going through a metamorphosis. “Dorian,” she said, stepping closer to me, her eyes big and almost luminous with emotion. “I need more in my life than just the endless bacchanal. There has to be more than just...” She waved a hand at her cavernous apartment. “Just this.”