She could see Dante squeezing into his tub. Sat at one end with his torso sticking out of the water and his knees tucked up to his chest, as luxuriant bubbles clung to his body. Then there would be the scowl. He was bound to be scowling.
The laughter faded away, leaving Val feeling remarkably better. She lay back and breathed in the fragrant scents. Her eyelids drooped. She exhaled, slowly drifting away. A tiny clicking sound snapped her eyes open. She peeked out of the corner of her eye without moving. The sound came from the door.
Val stared straight ahead, focusing on the sounds. The door crept open and then tiny footsteps pattered towards her. She slid her hand across the bottom of the tub, searching for her dagger. The footsteps moved closer. Val tightened her grip on her dagger. The footsteps stopped.
She spun around, switching from a seated position to standing, her dagger sweeping through the air between her and the footsteps. A pair of wide eyes stared back at her. Foamy water swashed back and forth, lapping at the edge of the tub.
The girl threw her hands into the air. “I am sorry to disturb you ma’am, but everyone else is ready for dinner.”
Val lowered the blade and tucked it inside the white, foamy bubbles that clung to her body. “No. I’m sorry.”
The girl smiled, unfazed by the dagger. “Everyone is waiting, ma’am.” She unfurled a large, white robe and gestured for Val to step out of the tub.
“Please don’t call me ma’am. My name is Val.” Steam spiralled up from the water as she reluctantly stepped out.
The girl moved forwards, wrapping the robe around Val. She hummed as she worked. Val stood in the middle of the room, smothered in the warm, fluffy material, staring as the girl patted her dry.
“As you wish, Val. My name is Aria. It is my job to get you ready.” She smiled. “It would be a shame to keep everyone waiting.”
Before she could object, Aria took Val’s arm and ushered her towards the dressing table. Val dropped onto the seat, watching Aria in the mirror.
“So, what brings you to San Francisco?” Aria picked up a pearl-encrusted brush and slid it through Val’s hair, flicking her wrist as she reached the end.
Val stared into the mirror, catching Aria’s gaze between brush strokes. “We’re looking for a knight.”
Aria chuckled but stopped when she could see that Val wasn’t joking. “A knight? Like in the legends?”
“Yes, exactly. A knight in shining armour.”
Aria slid the brush through Val’s hair, sweeping it off her shoulders. She gasped and stepped back.
“What is it?” Val turned to face Aria as she moved away.
“The scars. There are so many.” Aria reached forwards and placed four fingers on Val’s neck, tracing the raised marks. “How did you get them? They look like claw marks.”
“They are and I have more.” Val slipped the robe over her shoulders, allowing it to drop down to the seat.
“Oh, my goodness. Do they hurt?” Aria stepped forwards, her fingertips trickling down Val’s back and sliding over the top of the scars. “Who did this to you?”
“We’re not exactly sure what they were, but we’ve taken to calling them, zombies.”
“Zombies?” Aria tilted her head to one side.
“Yeah, they’re corpses that have been reanimated with vampire blood.”
Aria raised an eyebrow. “And then they go around scratching people?”
“Not exactly. They were trying to eat me.” Val shivered as Aria’s fingertips slid over the small of her back.
Aria gasped. “Were you bitten?”
“No, but I came close a few times.” Val pointed to the faint remains of teeth marks on her ankle.
“How many times have you run into these… zombies?” Aria lifted her hand off Val’s back and picked up the brush again.
Val chuckled. “Just once, but I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”
“Really?”
“Well, it kind of comes with the job.”
Aria pulled the brush through Val’s hair. “And what job is that?”
“I’m a vampire hunter.”
Aria covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Val frowned.
“Oh, I am sorry. You really mean it. I have never met a vampire hunter before and you are not what I expected. It must be very dangerous?” Aria gathered Val’s hair, twisting and weaving it together.
“Yeah, it is.”
Aria pulled Val’s hair back, fastening it in place with a pin.
“But then everywhere seems dangerous nowadays.”
“If you say so.” Aria shrugged. “I have never been outside the palace.”
“Never! Not even into the streets of San Francisco?”
Aria shook her head as her warm smile melted away. Val swallowed as she remembered her life in San Luiz Obispo. She remembered the feeling of being trapped and how she had longed to escape. Life inside a cage, even a big one, was no life at all.
“I am so sorry, Val. I had not meant to upset you.” Aria must have noticed the mood spread to Val. Then, in a heartbeat, her grin returned and she placed her hands on Val’s shoulders. “Do you think I could come with you?”
Val stared back at Aria. “Why would you want to leave a place like this? Hot baths, soft beds, you’re safe here.”
Aria grinned. “Would you stay if you were me?”
Val laughed. “No, I guess not.”
“What is that?” Aria spun Val’s chair and lifted the amulet off her chest.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just something I keep for luck.” Val slid it out of Aria’s hands and let it fall back between her breasts.
“I have seen that symbol before.”
Val leant forwards and took Aria’s hands. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, absolutely and recently.”
“Where?” Val’s eyes locked onto Aria’s as she waited for an answer.
Aria stared into the distance. “The exact location escapes me, but it was definitely this week.” She spun Val back towards the mirror and attached another pin to the end of the braid. “So, what do you think? Personally, I think you look beautiful.”
Val stared at her reflection. No one had called her beautiful, at least not since her parents had died. She opened her mouth, but Aria walked away before she could respond. Val stared into the mirror, watching Aria’s hips sway as she glided across the room. Every move she made was soft and elegant. She stopped beside the bed and scooped up a long, black sleeveless gown. It swayed from side to side as Aria returned.
“What’s that for?” Val spun to face Aria, tilting her head.
Aria grinned and offered it to Val.
“You’ve got to be kidding, right! Where are my clothes?”
“They have been taken away and are being washed. This will be far more suitable for dinner with the Count.” Aria hung the gown on a hook beside the dresser. She walked to the door, turning back just before leaving. “When you are ready, the guards will escort you to the banquet hall.”
The door closed behind Aria, leaving Val alone again. She stared at the gown. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She stood and took it off the hook, sliding the material through her fingers. It was like trying to hold water.
The amulet bounced against Val’s chest as she walked across the room. She dropped the dress and grabbed a bedpost, stopping herself from falling. The image of the zombies tearing Agravain apart flashed through her mind. It could have been her. Her breath quickened. She needed to talk about what happened, but if she did, she would have to reveal the amulet’s power. Dante wouldn’t believe her otherwise.
Val looked at the gown once more. Her breathing slowed. She took a deep breath and began to laugh as thoughts of Agravain gave way to the image of Dante squeezing into a similar gown.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE COUNT’S TABLE
Val’s gown clung to her legs, restricting her movement. The heeled shoes that she had found beside her bed didn’t make it any easier
either, much to the annoyance of the two guards clad in golden armour walking by her side.
They stepped off the staircase and into a large round room. The guards strode ahead, clinking with each step. Val glanced back at the staircase, winding up around the outside of the room. She looked at her heels again and shook her head.
“AHEM!”
Val spun around to find her escorts staring back at her. She grinned and then walked towards them, wobbling with each step. “I’m going to take these off.”
The first guard rolled his eyes and leant on his spear.
Val kicked off the shoes and stepped barefoot onto the marble tiles. She wiggled her toes and stared at the ground. “The floor’s heated. That’s amazing.”
“AHEM!” The second guard gestured for her to resume walking.
She scooped up her shoes and followed them across the round room and down a long corridor. Their spears tapped against the marble tiles in unison as they walked. Despite Val’s best efforts, neither had said a single word the entire way, unless you count ‘ahem’. They stopped outside a giant, ornate door.
Val looked down at the long, black gown, sliding her hand over the shimmering fabric. It was so light that she had to keep reminding herself that it was there. She missed her own clothes. Dresses really weren’t her thing. She dropped the shoes to the ground and stepped into them, instantly gaining a couple of inches in height.
The doors swung open with a long, exaggerated groan, revealing an exquisite banquet hall. Val stumbled through the doorway. All eyes turned, following her as she wobbled across the room. She stopped and stared at the gawking faces. A paranoid thought materialised, forcing her to check again that she was wearing the gown. She was.
“Greetings!” The Count strode towards her, his brown leather boots clicking against the tiles. “Your beauty is almost as dangerous as your sword.” He raised Val’s hand to his lips and kissed it.
Val smiled at him, unsure of how else to react. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Oh, please.” He lowered her hand, puffed out his chest, and raised his chin. “It is true, I am the Count of San Francisco, but, you can call me Philip.”
The Count turned and escorted Val to a long banquet table. She wobbled in her shoes, leaning on him for support. The other guests stood as they approached, filling the cavernous room with the sound of chairs scraping against tiles.
Val nodded to the table as the Count led her to her chair. A servant rushed forwards and pulled it back. She smiled at him as he retreated, but received no response. The Count continued along the table, moving towards his seat at the head. Another man, presumably a servant, stepped forwards and whispered into the Count’s ear.
The Count raised a finger stopping the man midsentence and turned to the table. “Excuse me. This should just take a moment.” He strode away from the table with the servant.
Val turned to find the Kid smiling back at her. She returned the smile and stared at his dapper dinner suit. He almost looked more like a man. His cheeks turned a shade of red when she glanced up and caught him staring at her cleavage.
A much older man stared at her from beyond the Kid. He wobbled from side to side, his back hunched over making his long white hair dangle past his shoulders, glowing against his black robe. Two more robed men stood behind him, their heads held high and arms folded behind their backs. The old man glared down his nose at Val.
On the opposite side of the table, a portly man with a long, elegant moustache winked at her, licking his lips. Val gave him a curious look, but that just seemed to encourage him.
The last person at the table was easily the largest man in the room. He had neat, cropped hair and a hard square jaw. He scowled at her. Val looked away for a second and then returned to the scowl. She knew that look, but it couldn’t be! She squinted, altering her perception.
“It’s me, Val!” Dante rolled his eyes.
Val snorted. “What happened to you?”
Dante shook his head and let out a long sigh. The final seat at the table sat opposite Val and beside Dante. It was empty, but a place had been set. Val looked around, searching for another guest.
The Count returned to the head of the table, catching Val’s attention as she scanned the room. He smiled at her. She returned his smile and then dropped into her seat, slouching against the high back of the chair. The white-haired, old man snorted and gave her a stern look.
The Count laughed as he sat down. “Please be seated.” He smiled at Val again.
“This will not do.” The white-haired, old man remained standing. “You are the Count. You must be the first to sit. This is all very improper.”
“Ambassador, please. Let us dispense with all the formalities. After all, ladies always come first in San Francisco.” He glanced at Val again as his mouth curled up one side, revealing a smirk.
The Ambassador snorted in derision. “You do us a great disservice by bringing these commoners to our dinner table. This would not be tolerated at the King’s table.”
“Well, this is not the King’s table.” The Count leant forwards. “This is my table, Ambassador.”
“For now.” The Ambassador narrowed his vision. “But things can change.”
The Count stood up, slamming his fists against the table. He pointed at the Ambassador, but before he could say anything, a long, exaggerated groan filled the room as the giant, ornate door swung open.
CHAPTER FIVE
DINNER IS SERVED
“Sorry to keep you waiting, father. I trust everyone is getting along nicely.”
All of the dinner guests stood, their chairs sliding back in unison. All except for Val. Instead, her jaw dropped. She sat forwards, staring across the room as Aria glided elegantly towards the table. The Ambassador coughed at Val again and shook his head. She stood. Aria walked to the head of the table and hugged the Count, before moving towards the vacant seat opposite Val.
“Please allow me to introduce my daughter, Aria.” The Count waved his arm across his body in a grand sweeping motion.
Aria bowed and stepped towards the table. Dante turned his head, giving her a curious glance while the Kid’s cheeks turned bright red. Aria smiled at each of them in turn. Val closed her mouth and stared back across the table. Aria winked.
“Please, sit.” Once in his chair, the Count signalled to a servant.
Val dropped into her seat, her gaze fixed on Aria as a flurry of servants milled around the room, weaving between one another. A large bowl of creamy, white soup appeared in front of Val, seafood bobbing below the surface. She picked it up and lifted it to her lips.
The Ambassador coughed loudly, dropping his spoon onto the table. Val turned and looked in his direction, the rim of the bowl still touching her bottom lip. He glared at her and then the Count. She placed her bowl back on the table and wiped her mouth with her hand.
“This one has quite the appetite, no!” The Count’s laughter boomed across the room.
The Ambassador crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. “This is an incredibly inappropriate behaviour to display in front of the thirty-second in line to the throne.”
The Count leant on the table, glancing at the portly man with the long, elegant moustache, before returning his gaze to the Ambassador. “With all due respect, it would appear that the thirty-second in line to the throne is no stranger to food. I would go so far as to guess that he has slurped from a bowl or two himself.”
“How dare you?” The portly man slammed his fist on the table, creamy soup dripping from his long, elegant moustache.
The Ambassador raised his hand, silencing the portly man and gestured for him to sit.
“Why are you here Ambassador?” The Count leant forwards. “Surely you did not travel all the way from London to insult me and my guests.”
“We are not here for you or…” The Ambassador looked down his nose at Val again. “…your guests. We are here on royal business concerning your daughter.”
“My daughter?”
The Count’s smile vanished. His eyes narrowed as he glared across the table. The Ambassador nonchalantly raised his soup spoon and dribbled the contents into his mouth.
“What?” Aria gripped the edge of the table, the colour draining from her face. “Father, no!”
The Count shook his head and ground his teeth together.
The portly man twirled the end of his long, elegant moustache. “It is a great honour indeed. I am truly satisfied with the union. We shall be married in the morning.”
A sly smile crept across the Ambassador’s face. “Good, fetch the Druid. Start the preparations. San Luis Obispo has been without a representative of the Aristocracy for too long.” He waved at the two robed men standing behind him. “Don’t worry, Count, your daughter will make a fine Baroness.”
The robed men stepped away and left the banquet hall.
Val turned to the Ambassador. “San Luis Obispo?”
“Yes.” His gaze narrowed as he turned to Val. “Have you been there?”
Dante spoke before Val could respond. “We’ve heard sad tales on the road of the missing Baron and his family. I assume there is still no word of their whereabouts.”
Val’s skin crawled as she remembered her meeting with the Baron, the way his lecherous gaze slithered across her body, his hands sliding over her shoulders, and then his lifeless, bloody body slapping against the floor.
The Ambassador shifted in his seat. “No word yet, the local police haven’t been much use in this instance, but the Sherlocks will uncover the truth. They always do.” He ran his tongue over his crooked teeth as his smile widened.
“What are the Sherlocks?” Val plucked a bread roll from a silver platter in the middle of the table.
The Count of San Francisco Page 2
