by Ilana Waters
When I didn’t respond, Philip stared at me and shook his head. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m almost glad Arthur hasn’t been himself lately. I hate to think what he’d say if he could see you now, the young man he had so much faith in.”
Inwardly, I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever he knows, he has no idea Arthur was involved.
“Yes, Philip,” I said. “Pity you and an old man were completely fooled by a brilliant, mysterious creature such as myself. You both might as well go back to cataloging the sexual proclivities of leprechauns, or whatever it is you PIA idiots do all day.”
Philip’s face turned bright red. “I don’t have to stand here and take this!”
“You’re right. You can be an ass anywhere, so leave.”
Philip narrowed his eyes at me again. “This isn’t over,” he said in a low voice.
I smiled. “You know, that’s the second time in recent weeks I’ve heard someone say that.” Philip just snorted and started marching off in the direction of the train station.
“Wait! What happened to your powers of infinite patience?” I called after him. Philip turned around only long enough to make a rude gesture, and then he was gone.
I shook my head and smiled for a few moments, watching his figure fade into the night. Then I remembered George. I whipped out my cell phone and jabbed his number into it with my finger.
“Hello?” said a familiar voice.
“George,” I hissed. “Where the sodding hell are you?”
“Joshua, old boy!” he cried merrily. “Let’s just say I’m in a place you’d love. If you love canals, cold weather, and blondes, that is.” In the background I could hear laughter and the clinking of cups, plus a few Swedish words like “kaffee” and “fika.”
“Let me guess.” I gritted my teeth. “Stockholm.”
“Right you are!” he laughed. “You know, Joshua, when all that unpleasant nonsense with Ferox is finished, you really ought to come up here for a bit. We could take a look at the Vasa Museum, stroll around the Old Town . . .”
“George, how could you?” I practically shouted as I kept walking toward the garage. At this rate, Abigail would be wondering what was taking me so long. “I just ran into Philip Grant, of all people. Apparently, he has to delay filing that final report on me because he’s been sent to research a supernatural explosion. Don’t get me wrong,” I said, trying to avoid tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. “I’m relieved you distracted him and got the PIA off our case, at least for now. But why didn’t you tell us what you were going to do?”
“Because you would’ve tried to stop me, of course.” In the din of the cafe I could hear calls of “Hej!” and “Hur är det?” “Would’ve said you needed me to help carry out the plan. But all the heavy lifting was done, literally and figuratively. I knew you could handle this last part on your own.”
“And what if something goes wrong, and the rest of us have to fight off a mob of angry vampires?” I asked, static crackling on the line. I pressed my hand over my other ear so I could hear George better.
“Well, in that case, I’m definitely glad you’ll be handling it on your own,” George chuckled. “Seriously though, Joshua, it’ll be fine. You’ve got Abigail and Titus; I’m sure that between the three of you, you can take care of whatever comes up. Not that anything will, because all you have to do is exactly what I showed you. And you could be a little grateful for my unexpected assistance.” He gave an exaggerated sniff. “I mean, one tiny thank-you . . .”
“George, I appreciate it, believe me.” I gave a cursory glance into the street before crossing. I was finally at the entrance to the garage. “I just wish you’d said something.”
If George heard my last comment, he ignored it. “No trouble at all, mate. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my highly caffeinated friends here. Oh, and I phoned home earlier. Guess who says hi—”
“George, old man, you’re the best,” I interrupted. “Really. But I’ve got to go.”
“Good luck, then. And don’t forget to give me a ring when it’s over.”
I hung up with George and put my cell phone back in my pocket. As I made my way into the garage, I muttered:
“One problem solved, and one more to go.”
***
Titus walked through the Hassler’s lobby, enjoying the serenity that permeated these early morning hours. Everyone was safely asleep in their beds . . . no one but creatures like him and the other night crawlers would think of venturing out. He recalled how he always loved the silence before a battle, the calm before the storm.
And when this storm passed, his ancient enemy would be dead at his feet. He smiled and adjusted his shirt cuffs, then his lapels. It would surely be a grand evening. Of course, millions of mortals would also be saved, which would satisfy his humanistic wife and son. Joshua—and presumably George with him—had just left. Abigail was already at the garage.
You’re the last piece of the puzzle, Titus, he told himself. It’s time you took your rightful place.
He was almost at the front door when he caught sight of another vampire—one that had Ferox’s blood emanating from her every pore. She was his progeny; he was certain of it. Ferox had surely gotten his message in the paper by now, which meant that she and his other offspring should be underground. What was she doing up here?
He closed his eyes and inhaled, performing an expedient don’t-look spell. Now no one in the lobby would be aware of him, nor would the female vampire be able to use her powers to sense him. He opened his eyes and observed her.
She was young, as all Ferox’s chosen ones were, with short blonde hair and a leather biker’s jacket over a lacy dress. She had no gas mask nor any place to put one, so clearly she wasn’t here to kidnap him again. But she was deep in conference with the hotel manager, who was looking rather glassy-eyed. He was also balding, middle-aged, sweaty, and married. The last attribute was easy to discern based on the ring on his finger. In other words, he was the exact sort of man who’d be susceptible to a beautiful woman wanting privileged information—regardless of whether she was hypnotizing him.
She smiled broadly, stroking his chin and cooing. He smiled back, embarrassed, but obviously loving the attention. With a block on her mind, and his mind being controlled by hers, Titus couldn’t read their thoughts to determine the nature of the tête-à-tête. The brief snatches of conversation his vampire hearing caught didn’t clarify matters either.
“Are you sure you can’t find out for me?” the female vampire purred in Italian.
“Well, I’m not supposed to . . . I mean, I could try . . .” The manager wiped perspiration off his forehead with a handkerchief.
“You do that now, amore mio,” she said, putting her lips very close to his before pulling away. “You have my number. And remember . . . remember how badly I want it.” She locked eyes with him and blew a kiss before prancing out the front door. The manager stared after her for several moments, dazed, before shaking his head rapidly and disappearing behind a door marked Staff Only.
Titus assessed his choices with the alacrity only a former military general could manage. He could stay here and question the manager, using vampire force or persuasion as the occasion called for. But it was possible the female vampire had not told the manager the full extent of what she wanted and why. In that case, his responses would be useless.
Or, Titus, you can follow the female, see where she goes and what she does, and demand answers. Painfully, if necessary, the way Ferox’s other children did with you.
Yes, the latter course of action suited him infinitely better. He walked out of the hotel in time to see the blonde waving to two more of her kind: male, and also Ferox’s.
Three of them? Why are they all still aboveground? And why at the Hassler, for that matter? This definitely warranted a reconnaissance mission. Careful to keep casting the don’t-look spell, he watched them speed off in a taxi, one they’d no doubt used their vampire powers to flag inst
ead of waiting at a stand. Then he spotted a beautiful Lamborghini convertible parked ten feet from him.
A smile spread across Titus’s face. Finally, a vehicle more worthy of hot-wiring than a decrepit pickup truck.
***
“You chose tonight to go on a joyride?” Joshua’s voice sounded almost shrill on Titus’s cell phone. Not for the first time did he think the boy took after Abigail too much. “That’s why you’re not at the garage yet? Stuck in traffic on the opposite side of the city . . . what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that in case things didn’t go as planned with Ferox, I didn’t want my last ride to be a circa-1960s ugly metal heap,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting all this . . . congestion. Idiotic mortals and their inane motorways. Almost makes me wonder what Ferox had in mind for the roads in this brave new world of his.” Titus continued inching forward in the sports car, which he’d included in his spell to stay hidden. The street was quiet, and there were no other cars in sight. He watched the three vampires stroll from fashionable storefront to storefront, talking and laughing.
“This is unbelievable. What?” Joshua’s voice suddenly seemed farther off, as if he was holding the phone away from his mouth. “No, Mom, he’s just . . .” There were a few muffled sounds before Joshua’s voice became clear again. “This is unbelievable,” he said to Titus. “Why do I feel like I’m the father and you’re the son? And how can there be traffic at this hour anyway?”
“I don’t know, Joshua.” Titus rounded a corner, making sure he didn’t lose the prey he was tracking. “I’m not a bloody traffic cop.”
“Can’t you just ditch the car and use your vampire speed to run down here?” Joshua implored.
Damn. The boy asks too many questions. “Not if I want to return this lovely Lamborghini where I found it,” Titus replied. “I’d hate to save the world only to risk prosecution for grand theft auto.” There was no need to tell Joshua and Abigail the truth. They’d only panic when they discovered these three vampires were missing from Ferox’s brood. Besides, Titus reasoned, once he found out what they were up to, he could easily take care of the problem himself. Swiftly, too, though not so swiftly that he wouldn’t enjoy it.
Before Joshua could say anything more, Titus spoke again. “Look, just drive to the barn with Abigail, and I’ll meet you as soon as I can. If I’m not there in an hour, go down without me.”
“Abigail’s not going to like it,” Joshua warned.
“What am I not going to like?” Abigail’s voice sounded far away, but laced with suspicion. “Joshua, did you tell him about Geor—”
“Since when does she like anything I do?” Titus sighed. “Besides, we can’t afford to wait. We’ve no idea when Ferox will start putting his plan in motion; as you said, he’s already much further along than we thought. He could begin this apocalypse tomorrow, for all we know.”
“Fine,” said Joshua, clearly exasperated. “Just hurry if you can, will you?” He hung up.
“I will if they will,” Titus muttered to himself, edging his way along the boulevard. What a waste to have a car that could go from zero to sixty in three seconds and not be able to break two miles per hour. True, these vampires weren’t the ones that kidnapped and tortured him, but they would do. Surely no one would resent him having a bit of fun before delivering the death blow to Ferox. Especially if it resulted in the acquisition of useful information.
The blonde vampire whispered something to her male companions, and they laughed even harder than before. One of the males grabbed a garbage can that was welded to the ground, wrenched it off the sidewalk, and heaved it into the double doors of a pricey clothing store. A shrill, high-pitched alarm sounded, and Titus grimaced. The other vampires whooped and shouted, ducking into the shop via the broken doors. Titus made sure to keep his car two or so stores down. Even with the don’t-look spell, it didn’t pay to take chances.
The vampires dashed between racks, grabbing fistfuls of clothing. They tried on some and ripped others to shreds. The males danced with unseeing mannequins, then tore off their heads. They ran in circles around an enormous display of an electrical grid, careful not to touch the edges. Emblazoned on the front of the grid were the words “Today’s hottest looks!” in Italian. All the while, there was more laughing, more shrieking. Finally, one male who’d donned an ill-fitting white tuxedo jacket jumped down from a high shelf and landed in front of the blonde.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t be getting back, Perdita?” he asked. “I mean, Master wanted us all there to meet—”
“I know,” said the blonde, presumably Perdita. “But I’m sure he’ll be happy if we bring back what I think we will.” Titus could barely make out their conversation over the alarm, even with his vampire senses. He leaned over the steering wheel, straining to hear.
Perdita smashed a glass cabinet with her fist, removed the emerald necklace it contained, and put it on. “We’ve got at least a few minutes before the cops get here.” She admired her reflection in a full-length mirror. “I want to have some fun. And I should be getting that call any second now.”
As if on cue, there was a beeping noise from her jacket pocket. “Hold on,” she laughed. “I have a text. Ooo, goody! That silly hotel manager got back to me.” Her eyes skimmed the message on the phone, then grew wide with delight. “The master was right!” she squealed. “He had a hunch the crystal would be in the hotel safe. The manager just confirmed it.”
Oh, Fate in hell! Titus swore to himself, banging his fist on the steering wheel. He’d underestimated Ferox again. His enemy could not get his hands on that crystal. With a demon’s help, he might be able to stop the C4 explosion, no matter how well George had magically rigged it. And after that, well, they all knew what Ferox planned to do.
“I’m sending this to Eriel right now.” Perdita’s thumbs moved over the phone’s screen so fast, they were a blur. “I’ll let him know Master will have his treasure shortly. And to think, when that skinny mage first handed it to the hotel manager, all wrapped up, he thought it was a watch!” The vampires burst out laughing again.
Titus froze. He had to prevent Perdita from finishing that message. Ferox would most certainly kill Abigail and Joshua when he discovered they’d lied to him.
“Oh, what the fu—?” Perdita hit the phone with the side of her hand. “Don’t freeze up on me now, dammit.”
“Ah, Perdita . . .” the tuxedoed vampire said. “The cops?”
“Yeah, yeah, just a sec.” Perdita hit the phone harder. “It’s almost there.”
There’s no time to get out of the car and stop Perdita, not even with vampire speed, Titus thought. It would mean battling all three of them, and by that time, the message would have gone through. Unless . . .
“Audaces fortuna iuvat,” he muttered. Fortune favors the bold. And with that, he swung the car around till it faced the storefront, made sure the trio of vampires was in his sights, and hit the gas pedal as hard as he could.
The vampires looked up as the tires squealed down the empty street, and the don’t-look spell flew off Titus and the car. Titus savored the shocked expressions on their faces: jaws hanging open, Perdita’s hand going limp and dropping the phone. Then he drove straight into the massive store window.
The sound of shattering glass was deafening. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Titus watched the shards fracture and fall all around him. He plowed through clothing racks, mannequins, and boxed displays. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Perdita’s phone on the floor, smashed beneath the wheels of the Lamborghini. The alarm was still blaring, joined by the sound of the vampires screaming as he rammed them into the electrical grid.
The unearthly howls were painful, even to him, and Titus wanted to cover his ears. But he couldn’t seem to move his hands. Nor could he close his eyes as he watched the vampires’ bodies spasm, temporarily fused to the grid. After what seemed like ages, they turned to ash, which fell to the ground and scattered in the wind now blowing throu
gh the store. Titus had a vague memory of being pitched forward and slamming his head on the steering wheel; that would explain the pain there. But it was nothing compared to the searing fire in his veins, so hot it seemed not red, but white.
Titus didn’t know how long the electricity flowed from the display to the car and into his body, but time ceased to have meaning somehow. He prayed for the sweet release of oblivion, but if gods did exist, none answered him. He heard police sirens begin their undulating wails in the background, and thought that, no matter what, at least now his wife and son were safe.
Chapter 23
“Why are you asking me?” I threw my hands in the air. “I have no idea where he is.”
I paced back and forth in front of the pickup truck. With the empty fields all around us, there was nothing to stop the cool night breeze from blowing my jacket back. I walked to the other side of the truck, hoping it would shield me from the wind. Abigail followed.
“He said to go down if he wasn’t here in an hour, and it’s been an hour and a half. Ferox is probably already wondering where we are.” Abigail rubbed her hands over one another. “Can’t you try calling him again?”
“Mom, I called three times. There’s no answer; I just keep leaving messages. I’m telling you—wait! My phone’s ringing.” I pulled it out of my jacket pocket so quickly I nearly ripped the lining. “Maybe that’s him. Hello? Hello?”
“Joshua, have you gone down to Ferox’s yet?” The voice on the other end sounded urgent . . . and kind of gruff.
“What? No. Hey, this isn’t . . . Arthur? Is that you?” I asked as Abigail looked on with concern.
“Yes, it’s me,” he replied. “Steady on; I’m glad I caught you. I have some bad news.”
“No, Arthur.” I held up my hand as if he could see me. “No more bad news. George nearly gave me a heart attack by not showing up, and Titus flaked on us by stealing a car and cruising. All on what is possibly the most important night in the history of the world. No more bad news,” I repeated. “Do you hear me?”
