by Ilana Waters
Titus was just about to make a retort when I said, “Well, I don’t think this old jalopy goes that fast, so we’re safe.” Indeed, in addition to a paint job, the truck was likely in need of new brakes, seats, and a muffler by the sound of it.
We drove on in silence until a young man in a bright red Maserati pulled close behind us and started honking. The two-lane road was winding and narrow, and with traffic coming from the opposite side, there was no way for the Maserati to pass. I assumed that was what he wanted, since he kept his hand jammed on the horn like it was powering the car.
“Shut up, you irritating little flea,” Titus hissed. “I swear, if he keeps doing that, I’m tearing out that horn and shoving it down his throat.”
“Calm down, Titus,” Abigail said. “It’s not worth the—”
Before she could finish, the Maserati saw an opportunity. With a moving van about five hundred feet in front of us on the opposite side, the Maserati swerved across the separating line. He cut us off just in time to avoid hitting the van, which now honked its own horn loud and long. The booming noise, so close, blared in our ears. We watched the Maserati’s back bumper barely miss our front one as he roared ahead. Abigail screamed.
“Fates be dammed!” Titus yelled, slamming his palm on the steering wheel. He floored the gas and tried to pull behind the Maserati. My head hit the back of the seat as the truck made clanking and rumbling noises. In the Maserati’s rearview mirror, we could see the man—face tan, hair gelled—laughing at us as he increased his speed.
“Arrogant fool!” Titus pounded the steering wheel again, which of course did little good. There was no way the truck could keep up.
“God’s sake, Titus, will you slow down?” Abigail cried. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my flesh. “I’m not dying in a blazing car crash because of your ego.”
“Yes, Father, please just let it go. And let go of my arm, if you wouldn’t mind,” I said to Abigail. I winced when she retracted her nails.
Titus said nothing, but got as close to the Maserati as the truck would allow. At that point, it was wheezing so much I thought it might expire before we reached Ferox. The tan-faced man was still laughing as Titus narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile.
“Father, what are you do—”
BANG! The left front tire of the Maserati blew a hole, sending the car swerving this way and that. Traffic from the opposite side beeped and honked as Tan Face tried desperately to keep his car on the road. But he ultimately failed, and the Maserati crashed into a ditch. As we passed by, we could see the owner was well enough to climb out of the car, shaking his fist and screaming at us in Italian. The Maserati, on the other hand, would likely need some very expensive repairs, if she ever saw the road again.
Titus’s tiny grin was now a full-blown satisfied smile as he continued on.
“There,” he said. “That’s taken care of.”
“Titus, what in hell is wrong with you?” My mother’s hand was over her heart. She must have clutched her chest when Titus took out the tire.
“Yes, Father, was that really necessary?” Driving with my father had never been easy on my stomach, but now it was positively staging a revolt against the rest of me.
Titus briefly turned his head towards us. “What? I was being generous. I had half a mind to make his gas tank ignite.” Since Titus’s primary element was fire, this wasn’t as improbable as it sounds. However, I think I “spoke” for my mother and myself when I silently gave thanks he’d neglected to do so. Whether it was my father’s ego or apprehension about meeting Ferox that made his temper flare was anyone’s guess. Titus would sooner perish than confess to the latter anyway.
Which is why we found ourselves, in the dead of night, standing in a field with not another soul around. There was, however, what seemed to be a stone shed a few yards off. My father frowned at the shed, and we all walked toward it. The building was larger than it had looked from a distance, almost like a small barn, with several slate shingles falling off the roof. It certainly seemed like it had been abandoned a long, long time ago.
“Are you sure this is where Ferox said he’d be?” Abigail asked. She looked the barn up and down.
“I’m fairly certain I know how to read, Abigail,” Titus replied. “If this is where he said to meet, then this is where we meet.” He gave us a warning with his eyes, and we stepped back. Titus hesitated only a moment, then pulled on a metal ring barely attached to the barn’s door. The door opened with a groan, and we were greeted with a billowing cloud of dust.
After waving our hands back and forth in front of us and coughing, we peered past the door frame. My father made a ball of light, and we glanced around. But there were only worn ropes hanging from nail hooks, rusted buckets, and other farm paraphernalia. Nothing you wouldn’t expect to see in a barn, and certainly not an ancient vampire.
“He’s not here,” I said finally.
“You have a marvelous capacity for stating the obvious.” Titus kicked a small haystack apart with his foot, frowning when it did not reveal Ferox.
“Then why did he ask us to come here?” Abigail made some light of her own and searched the rafters. Still nothing. “Unless it was a trap, but then . . .”
“Then this is the moment he and any followers would jump out and yell ‘Gotcha!’ ” I finished. “But they’re not. There must be something we’re not thinking of.” I took a few steps forward and heard a loud creak.
A creak? The barn’s floor was dirt; there was nothing there to creak. I tapped the same area several times with my heel. Using my own ball of light, I saw it wasn’t dirt at all, but a dark brown tarp. I motioned to my parents, and we slowly picked up the tarp’s corners. Beneath it was a stone square with another large metal handle.
“Ah.” Titus leaned down, jerking the crude door open. “That’s it then. They built a secret entrance up from the underground, but didn’t want to put it in writing in case mortals found the note or followed us.” Indeed, when we used our lights on the darkness beneath the door, it revealed a circular granite staircase, winding down where not even our magic could reach it.
“How could they have built or carved a staircase so fast?” Abigail asked.
“What difference does it make?” Titus said. “Perhaps it was here all along, originally covered up by the dirt floor of the barn. Regardless, it just goes to show that Ferox is taking precautions and being as shrewd as ever. Nice to see he hasn’t lost his cunning. Shall we?” He motioned to the trap door, and one by one we walked down into the dark.
***
“I’m still not clear on why Ferox wants to meet with you, Titus,” said Abigail, stepping over a pile of dusty rocks. This part of the underground looked much like the one we’d come from only a few days ago. Dirt, debris, and Roman ruins stood all around us. The phrase “watch your step” was never more appropriate. I suppose we could have flown at that point, but perhaps none of us was eager to see Ferox in the flesh—not even Titus.
“Perhaps it’s partially to ‘suss things out,’ as mortals say, now that he knows his old enemy is still around,” my father replied, careful to keep his light several feet ahead. This part of the cave only led one way, so there was really no question about which direction to go. “Remember what I said about him possibly wanting information? He knows nothing about this world, this century. He probably has a good many questions.”
“And he wants you to answer them?” I asked, shivering in the cold of the underground “I’m sorry, Father, but if I found myself on the equivalent of an alien planet, an archrival is the last person I’d ask to be my tour guide.”
Titus turned around just long enough to scowl at me. “As I said, he probably wants to size things up. To size me up. To see if I’m still a threat. Or he wants something from me you can’t readily get from just any tour guide.”
“I still think that makes going down here a suicide mission,” I muttered.
“I heard that!” Titus snappe
d.
“Of course you did,” I shot back. “You’re a vampire. You hear everything.”
“Boys, please!” Abigail got between us as we walked. “Let’s focus.” She rubbed her upper arms. My father began removing his jacket to offer her, but she shook her head. “Frankly, I’m wondering how he got you a message so fast, Titus. And how much does he know about Joshua and me? Did he realize we were down there with you? How did he even know you were in Rome—or still alive, for that matter?”
“All excellent questions, my dear.” Titus pushed aside some cobwebs before continuing on. “And ones I don’t have the answers to right now, I’m afraid.”
Wonderful. I’m sure you can imagine how I love walking into unknown, deadly situations that are becoming even more so by the minute. I almost wished I could steal a glance at myself in the enormous gilded mirror I’d seen here on my first visit. But that was much farther back—almost in Rome. Not that I’m particularly vain, but it’s strange to think you may have seen your reflection for the last time. Makes one ponder mortality and such.
“Well, whatever happens . . .” Abigail said softly, “at least we’ll be together.”
Chapter 4
Fortunately, we didn’t have to walk nearly as far as Titus and I did the last time to reach Ferox’s lair. Unfortunately, this meant we made it to our destination in short order, which is only a good thing if you look at it in the wrong light. And one hardly needed a great big banner to indicate we’d arrived at Ferox’s door, so to speak.
“Well,” said Titus as we all stopped and stared at the sight ahead. “This is quite a change.”
That was an understatement. As you recall, the last time my family and I were here, we were running in the opposite direction of dirt, detritus, dead bodies, and dark, cavernous conditions. What we saw before us couldn’t have been more different.
Oh, the cavern was still there, at least the shape of it. But this was more like the great hall of some baronial manor. The boulder had been removed from the doorway; gone were all the trappings of the classic vampire lair. In their place were intricate carpets laid on a now-smooth stone floor. The walls had masonry equal in quality to the floor’s, and were lined with tapestries. One could scarcely believe we were in a cave at all.
It’s difficult to describe the grandeur and excess. In only a few days’ time, someone had managed to make this filthy place look like a palace. Light came from a combination of six-foot-high, freestanding candelabras and wrought-iron wheel chandeliers hung from stalactites. We put out our own magic lights, as they were clearly redundant.
Even the ledge around the cave had a carved wooden balustrade around it. Since vampires can fly, I don’t know who they thought was in danger of falling off. Whereas magic had been the only way down before, a wide wooden staircase now stood in place of the stone pathway I’d made. Over it lay a thick, dark red carpet.
There were some elements of old Rome as well. Marble pillars encircled the room, two large fountains graced either end, and several statues of youthful, nubile individuals were scattered about. To protect the reader’s innocence, I won’t go into detail about that last feature.
“Good Lord,” said Abigail.
“The hell with the Hassler,” I murmured. “We should have just stayed here.”
The colossal hole in the ceiling was gone, but only because the enormous ball of rock where I’d killed the vampires was now a giant column. The column reached all the way up to the ceiling, filling in the gap that had been there previously. It looked to be a combination of rocks and cement. In front of it was a large wooden chair with a red, tufted cushion—the kind some Tudor king might have sat in at dinner. I’m sure you can imagine who it was for.
“How could Ferox have done all this so fast?” Abigail marveled. “Even if he did have or make new followers?”
“If you recall, our kind have superior speed and strength,” Titus replied. “It really isn’t all that surprising.”
“It’s also amazing what mindless dedication can do,” I added. “I wager this is the same way they got Father that message so fast.”
“Indeed,” said Titus. “If you were suddenly granted immortality, you might find yourself grateful to the one who gave you such a life. And they wouldn’t be the first vampires to be drunk on their new powers, eager to do all the things that were physically impossible before. Of course,” he mused, “Ferox could simply kill those who disobeyed him. We both used to do it all the time.”
“A lovely thought, dear,” said Abigail. “At least we don’t have to worry about mortals falling into the hole.” She jutted her chin toward the column of rock. I shuddered to think of what would happen if they had, though I’m sure the vampires would have been delighted to find food raining from the sky. Still, they likely constructed the column at Ferox’s command to prevent their lair from being discovered. For now.
“I think the bigger issue is the hole we’re in, metaphorically,” Titus said, his eyes on the opposite end of the room. Though mostly blocked by the column, we could still make out a staircase there similar to the one in front of us. The one down which twenty or so vampires were now making their descent.
In hindsight, I suppose we should have guessed they’d come from that direction. After all, it was where Ferox’s minions had greeted us before, sans staircase, the last time we were here. This latest set of vampires entered from an archway carved into the cave above the stairs. I assumed it was their “sleeping quarters,” or something similar.
As they made their way down, one could tell these were definitely new followers Ferox had made; their clothing and hair gave that away immediately. Many vampires from centuries past enjoy styles reminiscent of the era in which they were turned. For the women, this often means longer skirts and hair. For the men, the garments are less varied, but the length of their hair, beards, and sideburns can indicate which time period cost them their humanity.
I’d say this group was fairly young, both in appearance and actual vampiric age. I didn’t see anyone who could pass for over thirty, and hairstyles were mostly short on the males and the females. Ferox clearly wanted more youthful, impressionable followers—or he just enjoyed being among those he found attractive. All were dressed in black. Honestly, do vampires wear anything else?
What? Yes, I know I’m in a black suit. Anyway . . .
The males were in dark trousers or jeans and white T-shirts, over which they wore jackets I’m sure they thought made them look like outlaws. Literally—some had on dusters. The females wore tight black pants or short skirts, complemented by tops that showed generous amounts of cleavage. Nothing like teasing the world with reproductive powers you did not have. Everyone was wearing too much makeup and too much jewelry.
But a trashy appearance does not necessarily indicate an easily defeated foe. I’ll admit my heart started beating faster, and I threw out a quick shielding spell so the vampires wouldn’t hear it pounding. I could tell Titus and Abigail were tensing up as well; we all gathered magic around us, just in case. And ours wasn’t the only mystical energy in the room. We could sense the remnants of sleep spell magic, of newly made vampires. And of old, dark magic, like that which emanated from Ferox.
Slowly, the vampires came around both ends of the stone pillar to stand in front of us. Their faces bore haughty smirks, the confident kind of smile that comes from knowing one has complete control. The chill I felt earlier vanished with the increased adrenaline, and my heart beat even faster.
I had no idea if Titus shared my feelings. He simply began walking down our own set of steps. Abigail and I looked at each other for a moment, then followed. Titus kept his eyes straight ahead, his mouth set in a line, his face like stone.
Are you sure this is a good idea? I asked my parents without speaking. We’re still not certain they won’t waltz over here and kill us.
Turn around if you’re afraid, Titus replied. As I said, I know Ferox. If he wanted me dead, he’d have attempted it already. He would have
failed, mind you, but he would have tried.
I looked again at Abigail, who just shrugged. You know he’s not going to back down, she thought.
Then I guess we aren’t either. I sighed and kept going down the steps. I tried to read the vampire’s thoughts, but they all were blocked. I can’t say I was surprised; the three of us had done the same thing as soon as we saw them. Most vampires have mind powers similar to witches’ and mages’, though they tend to rely more on brute strength to accomplish their ends.
The block also prevented my parents and me from attempting to control their actions through power of suggestion. It was just as well. Both mind reading and mind control must be used with discretion, especially with supernaturals. Some mortal minds are impenetrable as well, so one does get practice doing things the hard way.
Sigh. You’d think having otherworldly abilities would make everything easy, wouldn’t you?
Sorry? No, that’s not what I meant by “otherworldly abilities”; I did not inherit any vampire tendencies from my father. Mind powers like telekinesis and thought reading and control . . . all that came from his witch blood, and from my mother’s. So, you needn’t worry that I’ll accost you in the middle of the night to drink your blood, though it’s possible I might ask for a cup of tea. But at this moment, I would have loved to have a much stronger drink in hand.
“I am Titus Aurelius, and we are here to see Callix Ferox,” Titus said, his voice firm and clear. “As requested.”
The vampires grinned, chuckled, and looked knowingly at one another. A male vampire, wearing a duster, stepped in front of Titus. He had on a circa-1860 army cap, skinny tie, combat boots, and what looked to be fingerless gloves. Abigail and I stepped forward as well, so that we now stood right behind Titus. If they tried to harm him, they wouldn’t live to see what happened next.
“Here to see Ferox, eh?” He continued grinning, like the others, and looked us up and down. Then he walked in a circle, only to stand in front of Titus again. “And what makes you think he wants to see you?”
