“It’s past dinnertime,” Swizelsticks explained. “They’ve all put in orders, but with us all up here…”
Harriet got the idea. “Alright – you and Callie go and deal with the guests. Keep them happy. Ply them with drink. See about dinner. Anything but the truth, okay?” She turned to Ankh. “Ankh, can you go and see about the band, the Professor and Edgar?” Lisa opened her mouth to protest, but Harriet held up a hand. “No. I know you offered to help, but I don’t want you roaming around. Violetta is dangerous. She doesn’t draw boundaries like Viktor does. She’d have no qualms about draining the lifeblood from a young woman.”
Lisa sucked in her breath. Violetta would have no qualms about draining the lifeblood from a young person, it was true. She could just picture Craig, eagerly asking for her help to find Viktor, and being led into the reception office…
At once, Lisa shot to her feet and bolted from the room.
#
Reginald Osis drifted back to “Ken Trepid’s” room and was startled to find an entrance straight away. There was a gap just under the doorway where the occupant had accidentally brushed aside some of the iron filings in his haste to enter. Reginald entered invisibly, and at once saw the fellow involved in some complicated activity, filling his pockets with assorted items. Rather than watch, the ghost began to search the room. He was surprised to find Edgar stashed inside the wardrobe. He tried futilely to untie the little hunchback, but his hands passed through the duct-tape. He was, however, able to whisper to him, informing him of a rusty nail which was poking out at the back of the wardrobe. With guidance from Reginald, Edgar was able to manoeuvre himself to the right position and begin to work the nail against his bonds. Reginald left him to it, and continued to explore. Finally he discovered three identical boxes, stashed inside a suitcase. He entered one of the boxes and was shocked to discover his essence suddenly meshed with Boo’s. Suddenly he felt the loneliness and pain of enforced spinsterhood. Boo, for her part, suddenly felt an intense hatred for Queen Elizabeth the First, a love for horses, a desire for drink, and… yes, loneliness too. Once both of them worked out what was happening and withdrew to opposite sides of the box, they were able to communicate. Reginald told Boo that help was on its way – hoping that he was, in fact, correct. “My knight in shining armour,” Boo replied, metaphorically batting her eyelashes at him.
#
Still fuming about her inability to perform magic against their enemy, Barbara was the first to leave the staffroom. She was determined to help in some way, and so releasing Norm was the only thing on her mind. She was irritated, therefore, when she was accosted by a group of guests in the entrance hall. Already upset by the allegations of snake-bites, dead arms, eyeball cocktails, anti-smoking ghosts and spirit horses, most of the guests had fled the dining room upon hearing what sounded alarmingly like a gunshot coming from the floor above. Now they milled aimlessly around reception, ringing the bell, calling out and demanding attention from a member of staff. Unfortunately for her, and also for them, Barbara was the first one they saw. They began to fire questions at her. What was going on? Was that a gunshot? Where were all the members of staff? Why were so many of the resort facilities closed? When would dinner be ready? Where did the bartender go? How can we order a boat to take us back to the mainland?
Unable and unwilling to answer their questions, Barbara simply reached into one of her pockets, withdrew an egg, and lobbed it into the lobby. It shattered as it hit the marble floor, releasing a cloud of vapour. Guests began to cough and splutter, then look at one another and scratch their heads in puzzlement. What were they all doing out here in reception? Sheepishly, they shuffled back into the dining room.
Satisfied, Barbara walked across the now empty entrance hall, heading for the spiral staircase leading to the dungeon. Her confusion bombs might be useless against “Ken Trepid,” but they weren’t without power.
#
Following closely behind Barbara, Swizelsticks stopped halfway down the steps and gaped open-mouthed at the scene. An angry and anxious mob had been rendered meek and mild by Barbara’s spell. He wished he could do magic like that. He turned to Callie beside him, a look of wonder on his face, but she shook her head. “Barbara’s magic is good, but it takes forever to prepare, and rarely lasts three minutes,” she said, grimacing. “I need to get in there before the effects of the spell wear off, and do some damage control, and you should get to Skully and see if anything’s ready. Appetisers preferably, but any food will do.”
#
Harriet walked gingerly down the central staircase behind the others. Continuing pain due to the silver net rendered her too slow to witness the scene with the guests. Nevertheless, she was deeply worried. They had not one, but two enemies at large, both of them very dangerous, and both fully aware that they were dealing with monsters. This was nothing like the fight with Hugo Dixon and Big Jim. They also had nineteen guests who needed to be kept happy and in the dark. Well, no, she supposed if you discounted “Ken Trepid,” Lisa, Hayden, Craig and Amy, then it was only fourteen guests to be looked after. Still, it was going to be difficult. And Viktor, the sisters, the Professor, Edgar and the band were all unaccounted for. Harriet could have howled in frustration.
#
Lisa, meanwhile, was desperately searching in the reception office. When she had first seen Violetta entangled in the net, she had been so concerned for the vampiress that she had neglected to take in her surroundings. Now she at once spotted a spray of blood splattered against a wall. She had seen enough TV shows on forensic science to realise that this was the result of a spurt from a punctured artery. It was not a good sign. She looked behind the sofa, under a desk and finally in a metal locker.
#
Edgar worked his wrists back and forth, back and forth, sawing through his duct-tape bonds. It was frustrating and exhausting, but finally he was rewarded with a snap as the last fibres gave way, and his hands were freed. He ripped the remaining tape from his mouth and feet, and then wondered what to do next. He couldn’t just burst out of the wardrobe. That would get him shot – or at best, recaptured. He asked himself, What would the Professor do?
#
Ankh had found the band members all tied up in their rooms. It had taken a while to untie the first one, Djangled Brineheart, but after he was released, the pirate used his hook to slice through the bonds of the others, and soon they were all free. Unsure what to do with them, and worried they would get in the way, Ankh suggested that they do what they do best – namely, head for the suspended stage in the dining hall and entertain the guests. They grumbled, wanting to help their friends and wanting revenge on Ken, but reluctantly agreed with Ankh’s reasoning. Violetta and the monster hunter were short term problems. Disgruntled guests had potential long-term ramifications. They sighed, and pulled on their disguises.
#
Amy stared forlornly at the teenage boy who was now back, babysitting her in the playroom. He didn’t look happy about it. “You know,” she said eventually. “We don’t have to stay here.”
“They asked me to keep an eye on you,” Hayden said glumly.
“Yes,” said Amy, “but we could still go and see what’s happening. Don’t you want to know?”
#
Barbara considered the problem of Norm for a minute, and then began to thread soft rooster tail-feathers through each of the chains attached to the weights that held him prisoner, as Norm watched mutely. When she was done, Barbara clapped her hands smartly, and each of the chains snapped at the feather, dropping the weight it was attached to. Norm sat up, throwing off the remainder of the chains. He pulled the gag out of his mouth. “Where’s Blake?”
Barbara shrugged. “Haven’t seen him. Probably trapped. Anyway, Harriet needs you to help get this Ken Trepid guy out of his room. He’s got a gun.”
“Okay,” Norm agreed. He didn’t mind a few bullet holes. “I’ll just go get Blake first.”
Barbara frowned at him. “No, I think it’s urgent!”
&n
bsp; Norm shrugged. “So’s Blake.” He walked over to the pool and plunged into the water, pleased, for perhaps the first time in his very unconventional life, that he didn’t need to breathe.
#
“And did it hurt very much when your head was cut off, Sir Osis?” Boo simpered.
“Oh no, not at all. The whole execution was nothing more than a pain in the neck!” Reginald replied. “And please, let’s not be formal.”
“Alright Reginald,” Boo giggled. “Still, you were very brave!”
“Reggie, please! So… if it’s not too personal, how did you shuffle off your mortal coil?”
“It wasn’t very exciting. Just influenza. I died at home, with Suzanna nursing me. She died herself a week later. Louise had died a week before.”
There was a long pause, then Reginald spoke.
“Boudica…”
“Yes Reggie?”
“When you were alive, what colour were your eyes?”
“Why, they were blue. Cornflour blue.”
“Blue,” Reginald sighed. “My favourite.”
#
Lisa ran from the room and into the entrance hall. She saw Harriet moving into position under the stairs, placing her hands in a groove. “Harriet!” she yelled.
Harriet looked up, startled. “I’m busy Lisa,” she said apologetically. “This is important.”
“This is more important,” Lisa insisted. “I think Violetta’s killed Craig!”
Harriet sucked in her breath, and turned to stare at Lisa. She could tell from the young woman’s pallor that she was serious. Deadly serious. She dashed to Lisa’s side, and together they entered the reception office. Lisa had not moved the body… no, Harriet reminded herself, boy, not body. Not yet. He was still stuffed unceremoniously into a metal locker. It made Harriet feel sick to her stomach. Grimacing, she reached in and felt the boy’s carotid artery. It was weak, but there was a pulse. She smiled reassuringly at Lisa, and gently removed the boy from the locker, laying out his body on the sofa. She showed Lisa how to apply pressure to the wounds on Craig’s neck that were oozing bright red blood, and then she hastened back to the staircase to resume her task. Now, more than ever, they needed Viktor.
#
Still thinking What would the Professor do? Edgar rummaged through his pockets, and inspected every inch of the wardrobe, and came up with: a rubber band, a stick of chewing gum, a small silver coin, a paper clip, a book of matches and a sizable amount of lint. The Professor would, of course, fashion this odd collection of objects into an escape mechanism, or weapon. Edgar didn’t know where to begin. That was why the Professor was the professor, and Edgar was the assistant. Edgar was still bleakly turning the objects over and over in his hands when he heard the door to the bedroom creak open and then softly close. He risked a peek out of the wardrobe and saw only an empty bedroom. “Ken Trepid” had gone.
#
Skully had surpassed himself. Dish after delicious dish came out of the kitchen, and the sumptuous food did much to calm the upset guests. Some, however, were beyond reason. Albert Fisher, Dan, Mike, Phil and Beryl were all demanding to be returned at once to the mainland. In the end, to get a moment’s peace, Callie and Swizelsticks had to assure them that a boat would be available in the morning. So much for rave reviews for Romanoff Resort.
#
Harriet was in such a state that she stumbled over the words of the incantation and had to start over. She was relieved when the stone elevator began to drop into the chamber below, but horrified when she saw the silver chains binding Viktor’s resting place. She should have remembered he would be trapped by silver, of course – what else would bind a vampire? She should have thought to bring someone else along to release him. Even now, she considered returning to the entrance hall and summoning help. But that would waste valuable time. Stealing herself, she reached out to the silver chains and began to unfasten them, biting on her lip to keep from howling in pain as the metal burned into her finger tips. Finally, her fingers red raw, weeping plasma and beginning to swell, Harriet flung back the chains. At once the lid of the coffin opened, and Viktor floated out as mist. He coalesced in front of Harriet. “Is it bad?” he asked her.
She nodded. “It’s bad.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Violetta followed the stench of rotting horseflesh back into the castle. She was almost disappointed in Sergio for using so simple a trick. It was easy to tell that he had come up one of the eastern staircases and entered his bedroom. For a moment Violetta considered simply turning to mist and flowing under his door to attack him within his room, but she thought it likely that he had planted booby-traps. Better to crouch in the shadows and pounce as soon as he left.
#
“Boo…” said Reginald, suddenly remembering his mission. “How long have we been talking?”
“It seems like eternity,” Boo replied.
“Yes… but how long really would you say?”
“Maybe twenty minutes. Why?”
“Gadzooks! I was supposed to report back to Harriet right away. I didn’t mean to get caught up, talking… It’s just that you’re so easy to talk to. I have to go, but I promise I’ll be back. And I’ll get them to rescue you, and your sisters. Everything will be okay.”
“Hurry back, Reggie!”
#
Fully equipped with a cache of weaponry slung about his person, Sergio began to pack a hard case with the three small iron boxes containing the ghost sisters. He hoisted the case onto his back and extended a foot to sweep the doorway free of iron filings so that he could physically carry the ghosts out of the room. He had decided to cut his losses. He would go downstairs to grab Violetta, and then head for the boat. Eight million dollars was better than nothing. Of course, if he spotted any of the others on the way – the gorgon for example – he could always order them to the boat at gunpoint. He was nothing if not flexible.
As Sergio creaked open the door, Violetta turned to mist, and in a rage propelled herself towards him. As Sergio cautiously crept over the threshold, Reginald Osis, blowing a farewell kiss, sent his spirit out of Boo’s box and out into the corridor. As Sergio quietly closed the door behind him, the black particles that were Violetta collided with the invisible waves that were Osis, and the two of them became entangled. By the time Violetta pulled herself together and re-materialised, feeling very cold, very angry and just a little bit tipsy, Sergio had already started down the stairs, heading for the reception area.
#
“He’s in shock,” Viktor diagnosed. “He’s lost a lot of blood. Unfortunately, vampire saliva contains an anti-coagulant to keep the blood flowing while they… I mean, while we feed. It also contains adrenaline. That’s why he’s still alive. Stress hormones keep the prey fresher for longer.”
“So… what can be done?” Lisa asked, biting her lip.
“He needs a blood transfusion,” Viktor said, bluntly. “Otherwise he’ll die.”
Lisa looked at Craig, lying on the sofa, ghastly pale, then nodded and began to roll up her sleeve.
Something in Viktor that had laid dormant for centuries stirred. Lisa looked so vulnerable, but in her eyes was grim determination. Viktor was touched. He put a hand gently on her shoulder. “No,” he said. “Not you. Even though you’re related, we don’t know that you’re the right blood type.”
“Who then?” Lisa asked.
“I will be the donor. My blood is compatible with all blood types.”
Lisa gasped. “But won’t that mean… won’t that turn him…”
“Into a vampire like me?” Viktor shook his head. “No – to become a vampire, you must exchange blood with one single vampire – known as your sire. If I first consumed his blood, and then he consumed mine, then yes, that would do it. That’s how it worked for me… and also for my dear cousin…” he added sadly. “But since it is Violetta who has consumed his blood, and not me, he will be safe. In fact, he will be better than safe. With my blood in him, he will feel wonderf
ul – strong, fit and healthy. May we proceed?”
Lisa granted permission without hesitation. Ankh, who had been hurriedly summoned by Harriet, nodded grimly and got to work with needles and tubes, connecting the vampire to the unconscious boy. Lisa sat between them, one hand clutching Craig’s limp hand, her other on Viktor’s shoulder.
#
Edgar raced down the spiral stairs, out of the castle and over to the workshop as fast as his little legs could carry him. He crashed through one of the windows into the Professor’s bedroom, rolling in a ball along the floor and then springing to his feet. In a flurry he tore the Professor’s bonds from him, explaining all the while about Ken Trepid. The Professor already knew of course. He had spent the last few hours of enforced inactivity planning and scheming for revenge in his mind. So well prepared was he, that it was the work of only a few moments to gather together all of the required supplies.
#
Sergio had abandoned his Ken Trepid wig in favour of a black cap and black clothes, the better for sneaking in. As he approached the reception area, he realised the office was full of people. He heard the voices of Viktor, Ankh, and the nosey woman. That meant that Violetta had been discovered. Sergio felt the loss of her five million dollar bounty acutely. Sure, the case on his back contained three million dollars worth of spectral anomalies, but suddenly, this didn’t seem like enough. If his original shopping list of monsters had been delivered to the collectors, he was looking at more than twenty million. So, he had a choice. Leave now and accept the crushing loss, or stay and try to recapture the most vulnerable of the group. It was almost a relief when the decision was taken out of his hands. “You there, young hooligan!” an Austrian accented voice called out from the castle’s front entrance. “Give me back my stone!” Sergio turned, and saw the spindly form of the Professor. Slightly behind him was a smaller hunchbacked form – Edgar. Sergio was annoyed. How was everyone managing to escape on him? He was sure he had trussed up this little pipsqueak well, but even he had been able to break his bonds.
Sergio sighed, and pulled out his gun, aiming it in the Professor’s direction. He didn’t really want to kill, but he knew that the Professor and Edgar lived outside the law. With no legal status, the police would not be that interested in solving their murders, considering them vagrants. Sergio smiled at them. “Just what I need,” he said. “Hostages.”
The Last Resort Page 24
