Business Makes Strange Bedfellows

by E. E. Ottoman

  She squared her shoulders and sat up straighter. "Yes. Find the creature and destroy it. After you have done that, I will submit for one night to whatever you please, as long as it does not threaten my life."

  Vi smiled. "Good. I look forward to it. Now, I'm sure you want to get back to your own apartments."

  She strode across the room. Standing Gert straightened out her jacket, feeling relieved. She wasn't sure what she'd been afraid of happening after she'd agreed. Whatever she had feared had not come to pass, though, and she collected her hat, cane, and overcoat as Vi showed her to the door.

  "Have a safe evening, and I will be in touch." Vi smiled down at her and then shut the door.

  Gert made her way back down the stairs to hail herself a cab.

  *~*~*

  "Professor Thompson." Gert greeted the older, rather stout man in question when he met her at the front doors of Columbia University's Low Memorial Library. "How kind of you to come see me yourself."

  Professor Thompson gave her a rather sour look. "How can I help you, Dr. Bower?"

  "I need to use your library, as it happens. The occult collection." She smiled and tipped up the brim of her top hat. "And I believe you owe me a favor."

  For a minute, she thought Thompson would actually try to refuse her, but then he sighed. "This way, Dr. Bower, but try to make it quick."

  She smiled, showing too many teeth. "Of course. I wouldn't want to waste Columbia's time."

  Professor Thompson led the way through the halls of Low Memorial before pushing open the wooden double doors that led to the room where this particular special collection was housed. Columbia University's library was massive. The three floors of shelves contained hundreds of thousands of volumes, but it was the fact that they held this particular collection, focused on the paranormal, that interested her. Not that she was allowed to visit particularly often. Most of the faculty disliked her for her gender, and those who might have ordinarily overlooked that disliked her for unrepentantly dabbling in the occult and such theories as reanimation.

  Turning to Thompson, she forced another smile. "Thank you, Professor; you may leave now."

  Thompson's lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed. "I'll be back in a two hours, after my lecture."

  She nodded, and he turned, stalking out of the collection room and closing the double doors behind him with a bang. Setting aside her things at the rack by the door, Gert got to work.

  The research she was looking for turned out to be in a slim, leather-bound volume and a large file of papers. Flipping through the volume, she stifled a sigh. It was far too speculative for her liking, so she set it aside and untied the strings on the file and pulled the papers out.

  Some of them were new, some obviously copies of much older tomes, but all of them were detailed eyewitness accounts of vampires.

  After about forty minutes of reading, her mounting feeling of frustration had only intensified. Some of the accounts described vampires as unnaturally pale, while others described them as being dark and bloated with blood. Most, but not all, of the papers laid out across the table described the vampires as feeding on blood from living creatures through elongated fangs. The sources varied widely on the powers of the vampires, with some claiming they could fly, change their shape, and control people's minds, while other sources attributed to them no powers at all. The best method of killing a vampire ranged from a metal rod through the heart, to burning them, to finding them while they slept and smashing their teeth out and shoving a brick or large stone in their mouths.

  Gert sat back, feeling unsatisfied. The records gave her very little clue on what to expect, or how to deal with Vi De Luca. Pulling out her pocket watch, Gert checked the time and then gathered up the papers and put them back into the file.

  "Dr. Bower." She looked up to see Professor Thompson standing by the door."It is time for you to leave."

  Gert set aside the file and went to collect her overcoat and the rest of her things.

  She thought about what she'd read on the ride back to her apartment, and thought about what little Dr. Hornridge had told her. Her mind turned to Vi, the coolness of her touch, the way she'd smelled of smoke overlaying the scent of lavender and dry leaves. There had been open desire in Vi's eyes when she had looked at her. It had been a long time since anyone looked at her like that.

  Gert had agreed to spend a night with Vi, this vampire—a creature she knew next to nothing about. All her common sense must have deserted her in that moment. She considered stopping the carriage and sending a note to Vi right then and there, calling the deal off.

  But would it really be that bad, another part of her mind asked, to share her bed with someone who truly desired her again after all this time? Gert looked down at her gloved fingers lying in her lap, curled around her cane. She hoped she had not made a grave mistake in striking the bargain, and hoped that if she had, she would be able to defend herself properly.

  Turning, she watched the streets of New York pass by, mind turning to the creature. It was still out there somewhere, preying upon the unsuspecting populace. Gert's grip on her cane tightened, and she wondered when Vi would contact her with news. If no one else died, whatever price she would have to pay afterwards would be worth it.

  *~*~*

  The note came three days later.

  Meet me at the corner of Mott and Cross St. at eight o'clock this evening. I have information for you.

  De Luca.

  Mott and Cross Street lay in the heart of the notorious Five Points district. So Gert dressed in plain brown trousers, waistcoat, heavy dark overcoat, and cap. She also dug the revolver out of her writing desk and made sure it was loaded before tucking it away in her overcoat.

  Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, Gert felt pleased. She was of about average height but with a build that was usually described as 'ample'—most of it muscle at this point from hauling bodies on and off examination tables. Dressed as she was now, and with her dark, curling hair cropped short above her ears, she could easily be mistaken for a young man who made his living working on the docks or about the warehouses of the shipping district.

  The cab dropped her only a few paces from the corner of Mott and Cross. Alighting from the carriage, Gert scanned the darkened street, looking for Vi. Light shone from most of the shops that lined the streets as well as coming from the tenement buildings. Even here, the city was never in true darkness. Vi was not hard to find, leaning against one brick wall at the corner of a laundry and the narrow alleyway beside it. She was dressed in black today, with a dark blue waistcoat and top hat. Folding the newspaper she'd been reading, Vi turned towards her.

  "You wished to speak with me?"

  "Yes." Vi nodded, all business.

  Gert leaned one shoulder against the wall of the laundry as well, facing Vi, her back to the street, and crossed her arms. "Well?"

  "Your summation of the situation was correct. The creature has been behind these killings and is lurking somewhere down by the harbor, as far as I can tell. But what I am more interested in is where it came from." Vi folded the newspaper in half again and tucked it under her arm.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, it must have come from somewhere." Vi brought her unmarred hand up and rubbed it across her face. "These kinds of creatures usually stick to the deep sea, mountains, and underground. Forgotten places, where humans have never been. Furthermore, the creature you described and the one my contacts have described leads me to believe it is not fully grown yet. So, for this creature to have ended up in New York in the first place, it must have been brought here." Vi leaned more fully against the wall. Gert stepped closer and saw Vi's hands were shaking, and she had taken on a grey-greenish tint.

  "What is the matter with you?" She reached out, fingers wrapping around Vi's upper arms, feeling her muscles tense.

  Grimacing, Vi shook her head. "It's nothing, not your concern. I have someone for you to meet, which is why I called you down here in the first place."r />
  Vi turned and led the way down the alleyway until she came to a heavy metal door and knocked on it. The door was pushed open by a slight, young Chinese man wearing a white smock over his dark trousers and shirt.

  "George Wong," Vi said, "this is Dr. Bower, could you tell her what you told me?"

  George Wong turned to give her a once-over. "You sure you want to hear this?" When Gert nodded, he shrugged. "I didn't see it, you understand, but I know a guy who works on the docks hauling freight, and he found the first body. Kelly, my friend, said he'd been torn all to hell, most of his head and face was gone. But he saw something else, too; he said it looked like a huge octopus but black with glowing red eyes and teeth. He said it crawled off under one of the piers."

  "And then what?" Gert asked.

  "There is no 'then what'. He ran."

  "Thank you," Vi said, and he nodded at her.

  "Anytime."

  "I owe you."

  George Wong smiled at Vi. "You do."

  "Take care of yourself." Vi took her by the arm. "And stay off the streets at night. I would hate to see you get hurt."

  She led the way back down the alley, but as they got to the end and were about to step out onto the street, Vi stumbled and swore. Putting one hand out she braced herself against the wall, her hand was shaking again.

  "What is wrong with you?" Gert looked her over, noting the grey pallor had only gotten worse, and the skin around Vi's eyes and mouth looked swollen and discolored. "Are you ill?"

  "It's nothing, I'll be fine." Vi tried to push her way. "I haven't eaten in a few days, but I will rectify the problem tonight. I assure you."

  "Haven't eaten?" Gert thought briefly about what Vi ate, and her mind skittered away from that thought.

  "I told you." Vi tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. "The thrill of hunting unwilling prey wears off after a few decades."

  "Here." She didn't think—she just stuck out her arm. "Eat."

  Vi stared at her. "What?"

  "I'm here; I'm willing." She undid her cuff and turned her sleeve away from her wrist.

  Vi stood fast, and then her fingers wrapped around Gert's lower arm, her grip hard and unbreakable. The turn of her wrist revealed the soft inner wrist marked by protruding veins. She looked away, not wanting to actually watch what came next. She braced herself for pain, but when it came, the pain was not in her wrist, but instead in the palm of her hand.

  Her gaze snapped back to Vi, who was bent, her mouth pressed to the hand she cradled between her own. The pain was like having needles driven through her flesh. Gert ground her teeth, but still a small choked cry escaped. It felt as if Vi were trying to bite clear though her hand, and she thought wildly that she'd made an awful mistake. Then came a sucking-pulling sensation from deep inside her hand that seemed to reverberate all the way up her arm. Through sheer force of will, she kept her other hand at her side, her fingers clenched so tightly she was sure to have nail marks on her palm, although every instinct was telling her to strike at Vi. She bit back any other noises of pain before they could escape.

  Vi straightened up finally, although she didn't let go. "Thank you." Her voice had gotten deeper with that pleasant rasp, more like it had been when they'd first met, and her color was much better.

  Staring down, the marks on her palm were small, Gert noticed, more like pinpricks, although they'd felt like quilting needles going in. The fingers of Vi's other hand smoothed the marks on her palm, the touch feeling soothing and cool against her skin, not stinging as she had expected.

  "The palm is one of the most painful areas of the body to pierce," Vi said, her voice low. "There are so many nerve endings there; the skin is so sensitive, but you suffered through it beautifully, my dear."

  Her cheeks heated. "Yes, well, warn me if you're going to do something like that again." She pulled her hand free, and Vi let her.

  "You did offer." Vi's gaze had gone heavy lidded.

  "I was expecting you to drink from the veins in the wrist."

  Vi's hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, and for a moment Gert thought Vi was going bite her again. She tensed, but Vi only lifted her hand and brushed a quick kiss across the back.

  "Next time."

  "What are we going to do about the creature? We might have some idea of where it's hiding, but how are we going to lure it out?" She pulled her hand away trying to change the subject and alleviate some of the heat and tension in her gut although she wasn't sure it was at all a bad thing.

  "Tomorrow night." Vi reached into her overcoat and pulled out a silver cigarette case. "Meet me in front of my apartment. I know someone who might have the information we need." Lighting her cigarette, Vi stepped into the street, hailed a cab.

  "I will see you tomorrow," Gert said when she was in the cab, and Vi nodded.

  "Indeed, the sooner we wrap up this case, the better." She slammed the door of the carriage before Gert could think of an answer to that.

  *~*~*

  New York City's Lunatic Asylum loomed in front of them, its octagon-shaped tower pointing to the sky. Behind them, the water was grey and choppy, and above, the darkening sky threatened rain along with the coming night. Vi strode up to the heavy wooden front door of the large building and rapped on it with her walking stick. A stern-looking bearded man opened the door.

  "The asylum is closed for the night." He frowned at both of them. "Come back in the morning."

  "I wish to speak with Dr. Blackburn." Vi stuck her foot in the door before he could close it again. "Tell him De Luca is here and wants to speak with Sheridan."

  Something flickered across the man's face, almost like fear. The man shut the door with a thud, but Vi seemed unconcerned.

  "Who is Sheridan?" Gert asked.

  "He is the foremost scholar of the alchemic study of the occult and anything else of the weird and unseen worlds."

  Vi took out a cigarette and tapped it against her case.

  "And what does he do here?" She had a bad feeling that she knew the answer as she looked up at the huge asylum again. The octagonal tower was flanked by two long wings of the facility that housed New York's insane who had been turned over to the state.

  "Oh, he's an inmate." Vi put her cigarette away without lighting it and turned back to the door as it swung open, revealing the same man as before.

  "Dr. Blackburn says he will speak with you," the man said, stepping back to let them in.

  Cold rain began to fall, and she hurried to follow Vi into the main building of the asylum. Lamps were lit inside, showing a rather inviting space, white walls and a grand staircase going up to the second floor. The octagon tower ceiling also housed windows; it was easy to imagine sunlight pouring down into the building on nice days. It would be a very different, far less foreboding place then.

  The bearded man led the way to the left, around the staircase, and then knocked on a door bearing a brass plate with 'Dr. Blackburn' inscribed on it.

  The door was opened by a grey-haired man in spectacles who peered out at them. "Ah, Miss De Luca, come in."

  He held the door open for them, and Vi gestured to Gert as they entered. "Thank you, Dr. Blackburn. You may know of my companion, Dr. Bower."

  Dr. Blackburn's expression clouded for a moment, but he nodded politely. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Bower."

  She suspected he wasn't but smiled nonetheless, settling herself in a leather upholstered chair in front of his large mahogany desk.

  "I was told you wanted to speak with Sheridan." Dr. Blackburn turned back to Vi.

  "Yes, I have a question I believe he can answer." Vi pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her top hat.

  Dr. Blackburn frowned for a long moment before shaking his head and sighing. "I won't ask if you are sure or if you can handle him." He stood and unlocked a drawer in his desk, taking out a heavy ring of keys. "Just try not to agitate him overly much this time."

  "I'll do my best." Vi flashed a smile that was mostly teeth.

  Dr.
Blackburn pulled on his overcoat and hat before leading the way out back into the main body of the building. He headed for the back of the building this time and stopped when he came to a heavy iron door reinforced with rivets. Dr. Blackburn unlocked it and pushed it open, revealing a metal staircase beyond it, leading down.

  They descended the staircase single file, as the air becoming significantly cooler the further down they went. The walls on either side of them were stone with oil lamps bolted onto them.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Dr. Blackburn unlocked another iron door and pushed it open with difficulty. A man stood at the other side, a huge man with arms like a dockworker, his head shaved with a gold ring in one ear.

  "One of our guards." Dr. Blackburn nodded to him as the guard watched them impassively.

  "Who are you here to see?"

  "William Sheridan."

  The guard grunted and then moved a large metal crank embedded in the wall. Ahead of them was a heavy grate blacking the hall, like a portcullis. As the guard turned the crank, the set of bars rose into the ceiling high enough for them to pass under.

  Now they were in a long hall with rows of metal doors, each with a small window set into them. There were voices and the sound of movement behind the doors, but Vi seemed untroubled by it, so Gert did her best to concentrate solely on their destination.

  The door where they stopped was a little more than halfway down the hall, and Dr. Blackburn flicked the small window open and looked inside before unlocking the door.

  "Sheridan," he called. "You have visitors."

  Vi stepped into the cell and, after a moment's hesitation, Gert followed her. Dr. Blackburn and the guard stayed outside in the hall, she noticed. She tried not to flinch when the heavy metal door was closed behind them.

  The cell was not particularly well lit; just one lamp secured to the wall close to the ceiling allowed her to see a dark-haired man of about medium height and build curled up on the bed at the far end of the room.

  "Who is your friend?"

  Sheridan sounded normal, and if anything, that was almost more unsettling.