by Anton Strout
“As I said, we believe you are key to our future, Connor,” Brandon said. “We believe you and Aidan hold the key to our salvation. All of our salvation. It is foretold in our prophecies.”
“Christ,” I said. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Do you know how many supposed ‘prophecies’ get reported in to the Department every week? In Other Division alone we’ve had six different chosen ones since last Tuesday. Believe me when I say Connor’s not your chosen one.”
“Exactly,” Connor said. “I call bullshit. What are you really doing here? Stockpiling resources for some form of bloody coup against us?”
Brandon’s face darkened. His voice came out just as dark, sinister. “Believe me, gentlemen, if what we wanted was a bloodbath, we would surely have it.”
His tone and a sudden wave of his emotions hit me, sending a chill down my spine. I tried to shake it off as best I could. “Then what do you want?” I asked.
Brandon stood and turned to me.
“Long life,” he said, “is tiring. For far too long our people have fought your people.”
“So hold on,” Connor said. “You want us to believe you are vampire pacifists? You want to make peace?”
Brandon shook his head. “I didn’t say that,” he said. “What we really want is to be left alone.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Connor said, a dark look of his own coming over his face. “If you had wanted peace, you should have considered that long before you took my brother and made him . . . this.” His last word dripped with pain and disgust at what his brother had become. “How come he has no idea I’m his brother? Why doesn’t he remember me?”
Brandon sighed, pausing before he started to speak. “When I turned him,” he said, “I took precautions to assure that Aidan’s mind would be free of his past, at least for the time being. The transition would be less painful for him that way and, selfishly, it served to keep him unaware of my purposes regarding our prophecy. It appears, however, my efforts were not as strong as I would have liked. You heard Aidan talking about the dreams he’s been having . . . Those are memories of his past, of you, manifesting themselves back into his consciousness, causing him to seek you without even knowing who you are. The fact that he hunted you out and stalked you, being driven only by his dreams, proves his value to my people. He’s quite a resourceful young vampire.”
Connor looked livid. “To what end?”
Brandon smiled at him.
“Whether you choose to believe in our prophecy or not, Connor,” Brandon said, “let’s just say I thought this day might come between our two worlds. How you choose to deal with this information is entirely in your own hands.”
Connor paused and his face changed. The anger faded a little and he jerked his thumb over at me. “The kid here’s got some issues with the whole prophecy thing, but you know what? After the past couple months of where my brain has been, I’m willing to take a look at anything that’s going to help me understand why my brother’s been made a part of Club Dead. Or what it has to do with me.”
Brandon gave a tight-lipped smile as if he were showing restraint. “I know you mean that to be insulting,” Brandon said, “but from my perspective, I consider Aidan’s transformation an . . . upgrade of sorts. Nonetheless, I think it’s high time both our races start acting civilized toward each other. We live in delicate times, gentlemen. Like your ancestors of generations past, we are saying good-bye to the Old World, the old ways of doing things.”
Connor turned to meet my eyes, his cynicism returning to his face. “I don’t know, kid. When we broach the subject with the Department, I don’t really think this is going to fly.”
My biggest concern was what type of conniption Allorah Daniels might have when she got wind of this all-you-can-stake vampire buffet. Still, truth be told, I was feeling pretty good about the situation. By the odds I calculated in my head, I figured I should have been long dead from hanging out here in New York’s largest nest of vampires. Any extra time I was still among the living felt like a bonus level in a video game to me.
“So we make it fly,” I said. “Connor, think of your brother. He’s one of them now. Less than an hour ago you thought he was still dead and gone. Now you know that he’s just dead. That’s a positive . . . of a sort.”
Connor looked on the verge of crying. The accumulated weight of the past month of mental stress seemed to crush down on him at once. “I wouldn’t call this any kind of life,” Connor said. “You know our training. Vampires are an abomination. Maybe I should have saved that stake to release Aidan from all this.”
I grabbed Connor by the lapels of his coat and got in his face. “He’s your brother! Think about what you’re saying. You can’t kill him.”
Brandon coughed, a totally artificial gesture on his part. “He’s our family, too,” Brandon added, holding up a finger.
“I wouldn’t allow that.”
Connor turned and looked at him. “I guess that’s part of my problem,” Connor said. “You say you people want to be left alone, but I don’t think it would stay that way long. Look what you’ve done to my brother. I’ve been around him less than an hour and I’ve already seen how ferocious he can become. We watched him throw this dark-haired girl across your little faux forest out there.”
Brandon looked surprised. “He did that to Beatriz?” he asked. “That’s rather harsh to be doing to his girlfriend, don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “They’re a couple?”
“Fits my point exactly,” Connor said. “If that’s how he treats his girlfriend, what’s he or the others going to do to regular humans on the street who they don’t even know?”
Brandon looked at us like we were stupid. “Aidan doles out exactly what he knows our people can take when it comes to keeping the law around here. He’s one of my key enforcers. He can’t simply go easier on Beatriz, especially around the others. If he gave his girlfriend special treatment, what would the others think? It’s clan politics, and you can’t be too soft around that mentality. It simply wouldn’t do. It would be a show of weakness, and we can’t have that. Besides, he’s young.”
“He’s thirty-seven,” I said.
“Young by our standards,” Brandon corrected, “which explains some of his more interesting outbursts. He gets a bit irked when we’re all out socially. He always gets carded. You have to understand that for the vampire, the mind changes at a different rate, between immortality and the fact that the body never ages. All of us grow differently.”
“What?” I asked. “No finishing school for vampires?” This seemed to agitate Brandon and I could feel it radiating from him. His face was somber.
“We still have much to discuss,” Brandon said, “but that can wait till later. For now, I think it wise we all digest what has happened here today, on both sides.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. “You’re just going to let us walk out of here?”
Brandon looked annoyed. “I could have some of my men chase you out of here, if you prefer.”
“Walking out is just fine,” Connor said.
“But I do need something from you,” Brandon said. “An assurance that you will approach this historic meeting with some delicacy when you talk to your superiors. This is history in the making, history we’ve waited on for a long time.”
“That’s awfully trusting,” I said. “What makes you think we’re not going to send in the troops on this?”
Brandon shrugged and tapped the side of his forehead. “Prophecy, remember?” He turned to Connor and gave him a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. “Besides, you’ve got your brother to think about in all this, haven’t you?”
Connor’s face went dark. “That’s why you did this to him,” he said, “thinking you’d get my cooperation . . .”
Brandon held his hands up. “All I’m asking is for you to think about all this carefully,” he said. His eyes locked with Connor’s. “It’s very exciting to finally meet you.”
“What the hell are you expecting of me?” Connor asked. “What does your prophecy think I can do for you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Why do vampires need help with salvation? Immortality and preternatural abilities not enough to keep you going as a dominant species?”
Brandon looked at us as though he were addressing children. “All in good time,” Brandon said. “As I mentioned, I think you need to digest what you have heard today before we address the greater needs of my people.”
Connor’s face darkened. He wasn’t getting the answers he wanted and his frustration was mounting. Before he could go to an even darker place, I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.
“We’ll see what we can do,” I said to Brandon.
Brandon’s face changed. He looked unhappy. “You’ll forgive me if I seem less than enthusiastic,” he said. “No offense, but despite our prophecy, your department’s previous policy of ‘Dust First, Ask Questions Later’ fills me with skepticism.”
I walked a somewhat dazed Connor to the door at the far end of the room and opened it. Aidan was leaning up against the wall, playing with a PSP.
“Give me a second alone with Brandon,” I said to Connor, still holding the door open. “I’ll be right out. You going to be okay out here?”
Connor nodded, and then looked at Aidan for approval. Aidan nodded, but gave me a look of distrust, eyeing the retracted bat in my hand. I raised it up and waggled it back and forth. “I just need to talk to your boss. Don’t worry about this. There’s no pointy end.”
Aidan laughed, his fangs showing in the gesture, but he waved me back toward Brandon’s quarters and started down the stairs. Connor followed after him close behind. I closed the door and turned back into the room, walking back to where Brandon stood by his fireplace. The rest of his vampiric council had left him alone there, staring up at an oil painting hanging over the fireplace depicting a gorgeous dark-haired woman with Greek features in a blue dress that, given my eye for art, I placed as Renaissance.
“She’s beautiful,” I said. “Who is she?”
Brandon looked away from her over to me. He seemed surprised to see me there. “She is none of your concern,” he said, turning to look back up at her, “but I was much less enlightened when I knew Damaris, far less studious about the prophecies.”
“Damaris,” I repeated, staring up at the painting for a moment as I put a name to her. I turned my attention back to Brandon. “Women will change a man. Speaking of women, I almost forgot. Your building here . . . not the castle, but the Gibson-Case Center . . . ?”
Being in the room with Brandon and the rest of the vampires as the only human took on a more somber quality. Without Connor at my side, I felt a lot less secure.
“Yes?” Brandon asked. “What about it?”
“It kind of ate my girlfriend,” I said.
Brandon stared at me blankly. “Excuse me?”
“Jane,” I said. “Her name is Jane Clayton-Forrester. We were using one of the information kiosks and, well . . . it kind of engulfed her. She’s somewhere in the building’s systems. It even lists her among the tenants. She’s been in contact with me, but she’s not really sure what’s happened to her.”
“I see,” Brandon said. “You must understand. I don’t really handle all these technical aspects. I’m afraid long life has left me somewhat slow in adapting to this changing world.”
“But from what Aidan told me, I thought you were their . . . leader,” I said, not quite sure what type of title was appropriate for the head vampire in charge. Lord, Master . . . Big Biter on Campus?
“Make no mistake,” Brandon added. “I am, but as far as those types of details, well, that’s what I have minions for.” He gestured toward the other vampires in the room and made a beckoning gesture. “I will leave that up to my colleague here. Nicholas?”
One of the vampires stepped forward. He looked to be around thirty and had shoulder-length brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. His clothes were modern, high fashion that bordered on runway absurd for a man, but finely tailored, certainly better than anything I owned.
“Hello,” he said, very politely. With just a greeting off his lips, I could already hear the thickness of an English accent much more Old World than the Inspectre’s. “My name is Nicholas Vanbrugh. I am the one responsible for the supervision and maintenance of this facility. I hope I can be of some assistance.”
I did, too. Not being eaten alive was a good way to start the day, but none of it mattered if I couldn’t get Jane back.
15
Connor and Aidan were long gone from the top of the stairs by the time Nicholas and I started down them from Brandon’s chambers. The creepy vibe from being in a roomful of vampires was replaced with the creepy vibe from being alone in an ancient castle corridor with just one of them. Darkness filled the staircase, which was lit by only the faint glow of torches set halfway down them. We worked our way down the stairs, my footsteps the only ones echoing as we went. I calmed my nerves by hoping that we were still in the heart of New York City, no matter how unlikely that felt here in Castle Dracula.
By the time we reached the base of the stairs, I had told Nicholas everything I could about what had happened to Jane at the information kiosk. He had listened intently, but when we came across Connor and Aidan at the bottom, something changed in Nicholas. The emotions pouring off of him radiated an anger that caused him to withdraw into himself. Aidan seemed to notice it as well, but seemed to be playing the part of the too-cool-for-school teen leaning up against the wall.
Connor, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to it all. He was simply staring at his brother, looking him over, entirely fascinated. Aidan turned to look at me as Nicholas and I approached.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I laughed out loud, trying to hide my nervousness. “I’d hardly call any of this okay.” I nodded toward Aidan, wondering if Connor had told him he was his brother yet. “Did you two discuss anything interesting . . . ?”
Connor shook his head.
Aidan looked down at the retracted bat in my hand. I moved it to my belt, hung it in its holster, and pulled my coat over it.
I looked at Connor. “Nicholas here is going to help us with our Jane problem.”
“That’s great, kid,” Connor said, still distracted by Aidan’s presence. “You can get on with that without me, right?”
I grabbed him by his sleeve, dragging him a few feet away from his brother, forcing him to look at me.
“Hey,” I said, giving him a series of light slaps to the face. “Snap out of it. What’s going on with you? Does Aidan have you in his thrall or something?”
Connor’s eyes came into focus and he grabbed me hard by my wrist, stopping me. “What? Enough, kid! No, I’m not in his thrall.”
“You sure?” I asked. “You’re acting all . . . like this.”
Connor laughed and shook his head. “Jesus, Simon, I just found out that dead Aidan Christos of twenty years is actually undead Aidan Christos of twenty years! Of course I’m dazed. Hell, I’ve seen you more dazed about missing Jane for a few hours.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, “but the thing is, if you leave me alone with Jane, you don’t have to worry that she’ll turn me into the walking dead. I’m not leaving you here with him.”
“You know,” Aidan said from the spot he and Nicholas occupied farther down the castle corridor, “one of the cool things about being all vamped out is the heightened senses. Like, you know, hearing, for instance.”
“Sorry,” I said, speaking up and turning to him. “Didn’t mean to offend. I just don’t think it’s in our best interest to leave my partner alone here in a den thick with vampires.”
“Your loyalty is touching,” Aidan said, holding up his hand in a three-finger salute, “but he’ll be fine. Scout’s honor.”
I turned to look at my partner. “Connor?”
Connor nodded. “I’ll be fine, really. I know I’m at risk here, but d
o you really think Aidan’s going to let any harm come to me? You saw what he did to those other vamps out in front of the castle. Besides, Aidan’s working through some things from these dreams he’s had that led him to me. I need to stay here. I need to help him figure this out.”
I hesitated. “If you’re sure,” I said.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Connor said, patting me on the shoulder. “You take care of the Jane sitch with your new vampire pal there.”
The two of us started heading back to our respective vamps. Nicholas gave Aidan a parting glare as he turned to head off to our left down another corridor. As I started to follow him, Connor stopped me by putting his hand on my shoulder.
“And kid? Let’s not bring this up with the Inspectre, shall we?”
“I kind of have to, don’t I?” I asked. “After the last time I called a false ‘vampire’ on a case? My rep is a bit shaky. Negotiating all this will more than make up for it. Allorah Daniels might pop a gasket, but we can’t not report this.”
“Fine,” Connor said, frustrated. “But just . . . not now, okay? Not until I deal with Aidan. I know Allorah. She gets really worked up, really fast. She’ll want to come in here crosses a-blazing, and I can’t allow that to happen. We need to take the slow, subtle approach if we’re going to deal with this the right way.”
I nodded. At this point, what were a few more days in the grand scheme of things? I didn’t bother to ask Connor out loud what he meant by “deal” with his brother, but I hoped it didn’t involve using a sharpened piece of wood.
Connor walked back over to Aidan. The tension in the air let up as Nicholas led me away from the Brothers Christos and we walked along castle corridors until we finally came out into the courtyard of the castle.
“What the hell is this place?” I asked.
“This,” Nicholas said as plain as he could, “is our castle.”
“But what the hell is it doing here in the middle of New York City?” A terrifying thought struck me. “We are still in New York City, right? Because wormholes and rips in time and space aren’t in my job description. I’m not even sure it’s in anyone’s job description back at the office. If you tell me we stepped through a Stargate or something to get here, I think my brain is going to explode.”
