They walked for a while in silence before Bella spoke. “What do you think of Miss Parker?”
“I think she might be useful to us,” Alfonzo replied with a shrug. “I think her power is unique. I’ll take any advantage we can get.”
“She seems nice. She seems to care,” Eddie added. “Even if she knows she’s in danger.”
“She just seems so…sad to me.” Bella looked off thoughtfully. “Very alone.”
“What’s the alternative? You saw what she can do.” Alfonzo glanced at her. “She can hear souls. Do you think she wants to be around people all that frequently? It must get exhausting.”
“That’s fair.” Bella tucked her hands into her coat pockets. “I suppose I didn’t think of that. I—”
She didn’t get to finish her thought. A snarl from the shadows nearby and a blur of motion served as her only warning. She had a knife buried into the skull of the ghoul as it hovered inches away from Eddie’s neck.
Eddie shrieked and fell to the ground in shock, looking up at the twitching and dying monster in surprise.
Bella smiled down at him. “You’re welcome.”
Alfonzo shook his head. “Children…”
***.
Right on schedule, the hunters knocked on Maxine’s door. This time she was expecting guests and had made a better lunch for the four of them. It was rare that she ever had the chance to host anything more than a séance or the odd gathering. It was hardly a social call, what with their subject matter being more than a little morbid, but she found herself enjoying laying out food all the same.
The city is liable to be destroyed by an undead tyrant who kissed you, and you are amusing yourself with the crudité.
“Hello, Alfonzo, Bella, Eddie.” She welcomed them inside and up to her dining room where she had set out food and drinks.
“Oh, fuck, yes.” Eddie immediately went for the plate of cured meats.
Alfonzo slapped the boy on the arm. “Manners.”
“I’m starving, and it was a terrible night.” Eddie poured himself a glass of wine and, lifting it, made a comical show of extending his pinky finger. “There. Better?”
“Forgive him,” Alfonzo said to Maxine. “He was raised by cows.”
“No, I raised cows. Not by cows. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” Alfonzo smiled indulgently. It was the smile of a father, teasing a son.
Maxine chuckled. “I spent many years traveling with the Roma. It’s quite all right. They are hardly the vagabonds and thieves people believe them to be, but high society they are not. Make yourselves at home, please. Language and all.”
Eddie was grinning in victory as he piled a plate with food and slumped contentedly into a chair. He looked tired, bruised, and a little haggard.
He wasn’t the only one. Bella’s arm was wrapped in a bandage that was mostly hidden under the sleeve of her dress.
“What happened to you all last night?” Maxine asked.
“Ghouls.” Alfonzo sat at the table, also availing himself of the luncheon, although in a much more decorous fashion.
“One decided to try to make a snack out of me.” Bella smiled as if it were nothing at all, waving her hand dismissively. “But I killed it first. Thank you so much for all the wonderful food, Maxine. You didn’t need to do this, but we won’t say no. We live rather austere lives, hunting as we do.”
Maxine laughed this time more out of amazement than amusement. “A ghoul?”
“If a vampire feeds from a victim and kills them, they rise as monstrous, putrid beasts.” Alfonzo poured himself a glass of wine and sat back. He grunted as he did, and shifted, as if he had leaned on a bruise.
All three of them looked exhausted. Flashes of blood, of snarling creatures in the darkness, and several brawls filled her mind. She heard the crack of bone and the echo of gunfire. Shaking herself from the imagery, she shuddered. She had no desire to meet anything like the creatures she glimpsed from them.
Now she was doubly glad she had made food for the hunters. They had earned it. “Why is the world not overrun by such things, then? I assume vampires feed regularly.”
“They do. The simple reason we’re not swarmed by ghouls is that they’re careful about who they kill and how they do it. They have strict rules about their conduct.” Alfonzo sipped his glass.
“How thoughtful,” she replied dryly as she made herself a plate of food and sat to eat. “They can feed without killing, then?”
“That is how they prefer to exist. They either take quietly from their victims, or they convince others to live in their thrall as slaves. As…pets.” Alfonzo grimaced. “Some will even trick their mortals into thinking they are valued. It is all a lie.”
Maxine shook her head and looked down at her food, finding it all very hard to believe. But after her shared vision with the Vampire King, there was little she would not now take on word alone. “I talked with him last night in a vision.”
A clatter of silverware. Bella had dropped her fork onto the porcelain surface, scattering a few lettuce leaves and some tomatoes across the plate. The two men were looking at her in surprise. Bella was staring at her as though she had said she had spoken to God in person and now knew the meaning of life.
“I learned very little. Shockingly little, in fact. But these things must be done slowly. It was first introductions at the negotiating table, nothing more. We have agreed that neither of us is to lie to the other, as we are seemingly incapable of doing so.”
“Huh! Well, that’s progress.” Bella was smiling broadly. “What else?”
She recalled her conversation for them, leaving out his flirtatious comments and the kiss. It was too personal, and far too confusing, to try to explain. In truth, it was also exceedingly embarrassing. “He said he wishes to meet me in person, and that he would do it soon.”
“Interesting.” Alfonzo rubbed his hand along his stubble. He had clearly not shaved that morning. It honestly looked as though none of them had slept. “Very interesting.”
She watched him thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. “You are considering using me as bait.”
“I—no, I—” Alfonzo stammered and looked away. The poor bastard.
“Lies don’t work on me, remember.”
He sighed heavily and lowered his head. “Yes, fine. It was running through my mind.”
She paused and drank her glass of wine and poured herself a second. “It is a good plan.”
“What?” All three hunters said at once as they looked at her.
“I have sparked his curiosity. I do not think he is one to pass on things that amuse him. I think very little entertains him, indeed. Whatever—or whoever—finds themselves owning such a dubious distinction is a valuable commodity.” She looked down into her glass thoughtfully, watching the midday sun glimmer off the surface. “It must be terribly boring to be immortal. He will come for me, regardless of whether or not I am bait.” She remembered the ghost of a kiss against her lips. She shivered. The gesture was likely mistaken by the hunters as sheer horror. In truth, it was far more complicated than that. “I think he means to make me his prey. My conversation with him yesterday sealed my fate. My death is now inevitable. I would prefer that if I am to die, it be for a noble cause.”
Alfonzo nodded. The look on his face was one of a man sending a soldier out onto the field, knowing he is not to return, but knowing the line must be held. “You are a brave woman, Miss Parker.”
“No. I merely understand that death is what waits for us all. I have seen enough of it to know. I think you have as well, Alfonzo.” She sipped her wine and put it back down, opting to pick up some cheese and a cracker from her plate.
“Indeed, I have.”
Maxine shut her eyes and took a moment to steel herself. She took a breath and let it out slowly. “So.” She looked to Alfonzo. “You have the bait. What is the trap?”
Vlad stood on the roof of the building, looking out at the city beneath him. The sun had set,
and his red moon had risen. With it came the creatures that hunted in the shadows. They were under strict rules about how many they could take.
Enough to sate the hunger. Not enough to cause panic.
He wanted to take this city with its populace intact.
But that was not why he found himself on the roof, surveying his soon-to-be empire. He was dwelling on his new quarry. His new prize. He knew where he would find Miss Parker. She was mortal and therefore had mortal trappings. A home, a business, bank accounts, and so on. They were trivial things, but useful. Often, he had to consort with lawyers and brokers to purchase land and new estates. It was oddly amusing for him to play at such little games. Like a parent playing checkers with a child.
He could slip into her home, steal her away, and spirit her off into some dark corner of the world where no one would find them. If she were in his cage, she would fall to him in time. All creatures kept in cages became enamored of and inured to their jailers. But that would be too easy.
He did not want a broken thing. He did not want her to crawl to his feet. He wanted her to walk into his arms, to embrace him, then to kneel because she wished to do it. These games should not be rushed. They should be enjoyed and savored.
And how much more perfect the chains she would wear when she donned them herself.
“Master.”
Walter.
Vlad moved his head enough to acknowledge the other vampire’s presence. His direct whelpling—one of the few who had survived the enormity of the poison that was his blood—was learning to move with true silence. He almost had not noticed his approach. “Speak.”
“A suitable mortal has been found with an estate grand enough to host your gala. He is ready to throw it on any day you wish.”
“Tomorrow.”
“As you command. How shall I ensure that the hunters attend?”
“I know how we may lure them in.” Vlad smiled to himself, a wicked plan forming. Oh, it would be delightful.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“I will need Zadok rested and sober. His gifts will be required at tomorrow’s event. Inform him now so that I stand a slight chance of him being prepared in time.” He let out a small growl in his throat. “Tell him he will suffer violence if he does not.”
He did not miss Walter’s sigh. His whelpling and right hand was a patient creature, but even he had his limits regarding the Frenchman and his extravagances. “As you wish.”
“Thank you. Now…go. The line is tied. Now I must bait the hook.”
It was morning, and Maxine had her cup of coffee in her hand as she went down the stairs to fetch her mail. She paused. A note was lying in the middle of the foyer floor, having been slipped under the door. Leaning down, she picked it up. It was a simple piece of paper, folded over in the middle. Turning it over, it bore no identifiable marks.
She set down her coffee and opened the letter.
It was only an address written out in careful script. An antiquated script, in fact. The place it listed was somewhere on Beacon Hill behind the State House. She didn’t know the exact number and couldn’t quite place where it was, exactly. It was followed by a time. 8 o’clock. Tonight.
It was signed near the bottom. Simply, succinctly, and with a single letter that left no question about who had left it. And it sent goosebumps crawling over her.
-V.
6
That afternoon, the hunters came to call once more for lunch. She had spent most of the morning pacing around her home, a nervous wreck. She had prepared food, but she had broken two plates while doing so. She couldn’t focus.
Shortly after receiving the note from Dracula, she had walked to the address to see if she could discern precisely to what she was being invited. The address was an estate. The servants outside who were placing strings of garland along the wrought-iron fencing told her a gala was being hosted that night in honor of a new dignitary come to the city. One who would save Boston from all its woes.
She had not needed to ask the name of the dignitary in question.
It would be the logical thing to climb into a carriage and ride for the horizon. She had nowhere to go, but that never stopped her before. She was accustomed to life on the road and being forced to pack up and leave.
Being an empath, and therefore “supernatural,” often made her an unwelcome neighbor. In that regard, her life with the Roma had taught her well. She learned to keep to herself.
But she had spent more time in this city than any other to date. She rather liked it here. Luckily, Boston residents were private creatures. She rarely talked to the people who owned the houses around hers, even though their walls touched. It was remarkable how secluded a person could be when they wished. And how easy it was to disappear into the cracks of a city.
The larger the city, the smaller the person within it became. She was simply another face, another name, in a sea of thousands. In a village, every life is important, every event part of the story of the town. Here, she could simply blend in.
That was how she preferred it.
Her business fared better in the city, regardless. There were more clients for her to see, and more work for her to take on. More curious aristocrats who wished her to divine some forgotten truth or to speak to a “ghost.” She could not summon the dead. Ghosts rarely followed the living about like invisible dogs. She was merely relaying to them what she saw in the memories she summoned from their personal effects. Telling her client what she saw was more than enough “magic” to please them and ensure she had a long list of valuable clients.
The city had its benefits. It also had its drawbacks. The noise. The congestion. Or an ancient King of Vampires came to call with wrack and ruin as his gifts.
The knock on the door disturbed her pacing, and she was almost glad for the arrival of the three hunters. She greeted them and showed them up to the dining room. Eddie wasted not a single moment before heaping food onto his plate.
“Another long night?” she asked.
“They are always long nights when a vampire lord is afoot, and we face the King of them all.” Bella let out a long, exhausted sigh and slumped into a chair. Alfonzo had a slight limp, favoring his left leg, although he was doing his absolute best to hide it.
“Let me get the whiskey,” Maxine muttered as she walked out of the room. When she returned, she placed a glass in front of Alfonzo and poured him a double.
“You are a saint.” The older hunter chuckled. “Thank you.”
“Where are you all staying? Or do you simply not sleep at all?” Maxine realized how little she knew about her new “friends.” They had simply not had much time to talk about such details. There was a war brewing, after all. And it was the hunters’ jobs to stop it.
“A hostel somewhere near the seaport.” Eddie wrinkled his nose. “It smells like puke and fish.”
Maxine chuckled and shook her head. “You should stay here with me. I have five bedrooms in this place, and I only use one of them. I have running water and flushing toilets. Probably more than what your hostel has.”
“Why would you invite us in?” Alfonzo furrowed his brow, confused. “We are…you do not know us.”
“You are in my city to try to save it. You will likely give up your lives doing so. And I am certainly not likely to survive any of this. If I die, feel free to sell off anything I own, assuming any of you live.” She sat in a chair and poured herself a glass of whiskey. “Although you may not wish to join me here.” She picked up the note that was slipped under her door from where she had left it on the table, folded as she had discovered it, and handed it to Alfonzo.
He opened it and scanned it. “When did you get this?”
“This morning. It was slipped under my front door. He knows where I live.”
“Then why has he not simply come in here and killed you already?” Bella asked, blissfully unaware of the casual violence she was suggesting.
“I thought vampires could only enter domains to which they were invited?�
�
“Sadly, that is a myth.” Bella poured herself a glass of water.
“Some nutjob vampire somewhere probably convinced himself that he couldn’t enter homes without an invitation, and it got added to the legend.” Eddie plucked up the bottle of whiskey and joined the rest of them in a stronger beverage. “Vampires are usually insane. Immortality seems to do that. The counting thing? Myth. Running water? Myth. Sleeping in their own dirt? Myth. Mirrors and garlic, myth. I think it amuses them to keep spreading the rumors. It makes them seem weaker than they are.”
“And their fear of the cross?”
“Myth.” Alfonzo sighed. “Traces to a vampire lord in Ireland who convinced himself he would burn if one touched him. But it isn’t true.”
“Fascinating…what of the sun?”
“That remains true, to a point. It will burn the young ones. The older the vampire, the more durable they become. I have seen some walk in the day without pain, although it weakens them and their powers.”
“What of Dracula himself?”
“We do not know.”
“I see.” She spun her glass in her fingers, watching the alcohol swirl a little as she did. “Then to answer your question, I do not know why he did not show himself in. He likely knew I was without protection and asleep in bed. He could have done far worse than slip a note beneath my entry door.” The thought made her shiver. She knew she was in danger, but she hadn’t really understood how much until that moment.
“Yet he did this instead. I don’t know this city. Where is this?”
“A home on Beacon Hill behind the State House. The estate of one of the bourgeoisie children of the city. When I asked the footman what the occasion was, they said they were hosting a dignitary who had come to ‘save the city.’”
“Mmhm.” Alfonzo let out a long, tired sigh and leaned back in his chair. “He’s set a trap, then.”
“It seems so.” Maxine sipped her whiskey. She usually did not drink it straight, but it helped settle her frazzled nerves. “I am the bait, after all.”
Heart of Dracula Page 6
