I grinned, catching her reference to my earlier statement about not noticing her dress.
Victoria turned her attention to Nosh. “Rogue, is he? Well, I’ve always been attracted to the bad boys. And it really is a nice suit,” she said, finally eyeing me up and down.
I smiled in spite of Nosh’s obvious concern. Attracted…was she? I knew how women could use flirtatious guises in order to trip men up, but something about her felt pure and honest. I knew she was dangerous, but she was also reckless—in what seemed a calculated way. She’d spoken against Dracula, even after assuming I was a vampire and would therefore be under his control.
Little did she know that I was actually the man who had created the monster, and that I was beholden to no one. Was her disgust against vampires in general or Dracula specifically? I would have to ask Nosh once we found some privacy.
16
Victoria leaned past Nosh, sliding a card my way. It was a simple white card with a vertical wooden stake and a horizontal sword, forming a crucifix. “Victoria Helsing,” I read out loud, not recalling the name from any of my conversations with Nosh.
She watched me with an expectant smile on her face, but it soon transformed into a look of curious intrigue, as if I had passed some test. “I wrote my cell phone number on the back. I would love to speak with you again. Perhaps over dinner.”
I smiled, nodding along as I silently wondered what had caused her reaction. “I do not have a card or a phone,” I said.
Nosh rolled his eyes. “Stolen at the airport, so he says. I’m sure it’s just a ploy to attract the interest of women who should know better,” he said with a teasing smile aimed at Victoria. “My name is Nosh Griffin.”
“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” she said, smirking. “How is business?”
He smiled politely. “Like selling water in the desert, but I try to distance myself from my parents’ empire. It is an honor to meet such a renowned vampire hunter, Miss Helsing. It also concerns me to see you here,” he said. I did my best to conceal my surprise. Vampire hunter? “I hope you don’t paint me with the same brush as some of the guests. I’m here in a personal capacity—to right a wrong.”
“Me too,” she admitted with a tired sigh. “You have no idea how many times I’ve considered changing my last name.”
Before I could ask a question that I was obviously supposed to already know the answer to, Nosh smiled. “You are preaching to the choir, Victoria. A Native American is the heir to a casino. We are all unfairly painted with the brush of our ancestors—and only the most notorious of them.”
Victoria thought about that and finally nodded. “Fair point.”
The lights dimmed twice in rapid succession, and the hum of conversation quieted as a gentleman in a tuxedo stepped up to the pedestal in the main room. At some point during my conversation with Victoria, they had brought out the items going up for auction. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” the man said in a nasally, high-pitched whine. “Thank you for attending this private auction. Know that ten-percent of tonight’s proceeds will be donated to the Blood Center of the Empire State.”
“Of course it will,” Victoria murmured under her breath. “Like a sales tax.”
Nosh grunted, nodding absently. “They don’t even try to hide it, do they?” He leaned back, whispering something that only I could hear. “Vampires own the blood bank where I got your snacks.”
I narrowed my eyes and nodded. Victoria hadn’t overheard him, thankfully.
“If you could please find your seats, we will begin in two minutes,” the man at the podium said, clapping his hands twice. The lights flickered two more times and people began to make their way over.
Victoria climbed to her feet and turned to face me. “Don’t forget to give me a call, mystery man. I haven’t dined with a rogue in quite some time,” she said suggestively.
I bowed, clutching her card to my chest. “I will hold this close to my heart,” I told her solemnly.
She grinned brightly. “And he manages to bring it back full circle while still being charming,” she said. Then she gave me an awkward curtsy, trying to mimic the sincerity of my bow. I was beginning to realize that bowing and curtsying was no longer a common act—but the women I had met sure seemed to appreciate it, regardless. Why abandon such a simple act of courtesy if it was so well-received?
Yet another failing of modern times to add to Nosh’s list.
Victoria turned to walk away and I sensed the stiff tension in Nosh’s shoulders as he gestured for me to follow him. I studied Victoria in her blue dress for longer than was entirely appropriate, but I couldn’t make myself look away. It wasn’t hunger and it wasn’t lust.
It was…
I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, to be honest. But thoughts of my past lovers were vying for power in my mind, demanding my attention. Because it was undeniable that a part of me obviously fancied Victoria Helsing, even though I was currently on a quest to avenge my wife, Bubble.
Thinking of Bubble and the slumber I’d been put into by Deganawida, I remembered the strange sensation from when I had awoken below Grand Central Terminal. That having relived that night so many times had somehow served to numb me to it—like an adult reminiscing on an old childhood memory. It would always be there and bring a smile to your face or a tear to your eye, but you knew the world was full of bigger and better things that better aligned with the current version of yourself. Not that one was better than the other, overall, but that they now occupied different rooms in your heart.
Reliving that night over and over, hundreds of thousands of times—at least—had subconsciously turned my love for Bubble into an old forgotten memory. Even if she had survived the attack, she was long dead now. Time mattered, and I was beginning to consciously realize—long before I’d met Victoria this evening—that some part of me had died alongside Bubble that fateful night long ago, dousing a spark that hadn’t truly had the time to grow into a proper fire. My relationship with Bubble had been budding and full of potential, except conceiving a son—and having him develop and then grow so rapidly—had forced us to advance our relationship faster than was natural.
Like cutting buds off a flower before they had the chance to bloom.
And I would never see her again.
All I could do was avenge her. But my motivations for doing so were more out of honor than from a freshly stabbed heart. The emotions now fueling my vengeance were tied to Dracula—for his crime in destroying my family when I had given him everything he’d ever wanted.
His ingratitude.
My brief interaction with Victoria had been entirely different from what I experienced with Bubble.
Rather than a spark for a potential fire…
It had felt more like an instant conflagration. More so than I’d even felt for Selene back in Delphi, and that brief romance had literally ruined my life. Eternally. The Greek gods did not appreciate poaching from their figurative herd, and they had no empathy for the hearts of men.
My shoulders itched instinctively, wondering which god was about to come down and punish me for my heart’s desires this time.
Despite what romantic sensations I was feeling now, I realized that I had every right to open my heart again. That it was already open, as a matter of fact. And that unnecessary guilt was…unnecessary.
As long as I was willing to suffer some other god’s wrath, of course, since they seemed to take particular delight in watching me squirm for the sake of love. That seemed to be my real curse—to live eternally with half a heart.
I watched Victoria take her seat and realized I was smiling absently. On a strictly platonic level, something about her seemed to calm me. Perhaps it was her utter lack of fear for vampires. Perhaps it was her dominance—becoming a vampire hunter. Victoria was brave, bold, and cunning. When she’d said she hated Dracula, it had come from the same place where my own hatred for Dracula resided. Genuine, soul-deep dedication.
Dracula had wronged Victoria
Helsing. I decided that I would find out how, and that I would help her shoulder that hatred. If she let me.
Nosh sat down in a chair far from the other guests. As I joined him, I noticed others were also choosing seats far away from their fellows, only congregating in the same small groups in which they had spent the evening thus far. Nosh eyed the Sisters of Mercy—particularly Isabella, who was smiling at his blatant attention—like a wolf on the prowl. Victoria sat by herself near the front, not far from the Sisters of Mercy, sitting up straight and discreetly watching the other guests like a falcon.
I had been so focused on the guests, that I hadn’t taken the time to inspect the items available for auction. There were only a handful of items, but they looked exquisite and old. I saw a painting, a small pottery collection, a few rusted weapons, golden jewelry, and a single leather-bound book. I discreetly studied it from my seat, wanting to shake my head in disbelief. From here, I noticed a familiar marking on the spine that I had seen on Deganawida’s journal so long ago.
Nosh was staring at the book, confirming my suspicion. I scanned the room and noticed that many people were studying the journal, more with curiosity than interest. Or so it seemed. “Do we have enough money to compete?” I asked Nosh in a muted whisper.
He pursed his lips. “I don’t think anyone does, to be honest, but I was never planning on buying it. I wanted to see the other players.” He leaned closer, pretending to brush something off my shoulder as he whispered, “We are going to steal it. I refuse to pay for something that was stolen from our tribe.” Then he straightened, flicking away the imagined debris from my shoulder with a satisfied grunt.
I swept our surroundings to make sure no one had overheard since several people were still walking past us as they chose their seats. “Generally, theft works best when no one sees your face,” I murmured in a stern reprimand.
Nosh shook his head. “I needed to know who we were up against, and to take note of who bids on it.”
“Why? We’re stealing it, remember?”
“To learn whether or not we have any potential allies,” he murmured, smiling discreetly.
I agreed with his sentiment, but I also knew how bloody this auction was about to become.
17
Bidding began on the paintings, first. The Sisters of Mercy seemed particularly interested in them, but when I heard the bidding amount repeated by the nasally voice at the podium, my mind momentarily fragmented, shattering into pieces like a broken vase. “The hell?” I spluttered to Nosh, careful to keep my voice down.
Nosh frowned at me, and then finally seemed to understand. “Inflation. Things cost more these days.”
I grunted. Isabella purchased one of the paintings for two hundred thousand dollars. Her associate bought the other one for half-again as much money and I shook my head incredulously. Now I knew why Nosh wanted to steal the journal. And then I thought about how much gold it would have been and I was abruptly convinced that Nosh’s checkbook was more efficient.
I leaned back in my seat, doing my best not to look like a fish out of water. Nosh didn’t look concerned, but he hadn’t intended on paying for anything. I began to wonder just how wealthy his parents were for him to seem so indifferent. Either that or he was too busy ogling Isabella to listen to the ridiculous sums being shouted back and forth across the room.
I also wondered just how wealthy Dracula might be after a few hundred years of compounding interest. Exactly how much had he increased my coffers?
I sensed Nosh stiffening and glanced up to see the journal carefully set on display for all to see. “This is the journal of Deganawida, the man who founded the Iroquois Confederacy that first united five Native American nations together. The journal was recently discovered—or at least unveiled—by Dr. Degan Smith, a Medicine Man and retired professor of Native American studies at NYU. With Dr. Smith being named after the vital historical figure—and obviously an astute scholar of Native American history—his claim on the journal’s authenticity carries significant weight. This finding is currently unknown to the public.” He paused, not bothering to clarify that it had been stolen since everyone could read between the lines. “The bidding will open up at one hundred thousand dollars.”
I didn’t spot any familiar faces from my day and age, but I hadn’t really expected to. The friendly pair of vampires I had seen upon entering the auction were back at the bar, not participating in the bidding at all. I did take note of a trio of vampires—I could sense their auras—discussing the journal in a silent but intense exchange. They looked to be in their mid-thirties, which meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. I sensed Victoria eyeing them with an open scowl, but the group pointedly ignored her as one of them raised a paddle, interrupting the other bidders who had been raising each other in ten thousand increments. “Five hundred,” he said in a voice like warm honey.
I grunted. The agitated sounds from the rest of the bidders mirrored my sentiments.
The Sisters of Mercy perked up, likely wondering why this old journal was so expensive. So, they hadn’t arrived to bid on it. The two began conversing softly, lowering their heads together as they likely debated whether to jump in and attempt to bid on the item the vampires so desperately wanted.
Nosh raised his paddle, catching me off-guard. “Six,” he said, his face utterly relaxed.
The auctioneer nodded. “Six! Do I have a six fifty?”
I maintained my composure as all the heads suddenly swiveled our way. The vampires simultaneously locked onto us, scowling furiously. Their faces grew grim and suspicious, which meant they had no idea who we were. I smiled, waving back at them.
“Six fifty!” the auctioneer shouted, pointing at me. Nosh shot me a dark look and I very carefully lowered my hand.
Victoria had been watching the exchange, her eyebrows furrowing. “Seven fifty,” she said, lifting her paddle and glancing at me curiously.
“One million!” Isabella said, drawing every eye to the Sisters of Mercy.
I felt like I was sweating all of a sudden. Good lord. What did they think was inside the book? Only the vampires knew the truth. I wasn’t even entirely sure what was inside. I glanced back at the bar to check on the two friendly vampires, wondering if they had been involved in abducting Nosh’s parents, but they seemed to be having more fun drinking blood than anything else.
I turned back to the other group of vampires, wondering if they had been involved in the abduction. They huddled together, gesturing angrily at each other.
“One million!” the auctioneer repeated. “Would anyone like to bid higher than one million? Going once, for one million dollars.” The crowd began to murmur excitedly, but no one lifted a paddle. “Going twice!” the auctioneer crowed.
The same vampire finally lifted his paddle. “Six million.”
The crowd went silent for about two seconds, and then the hum of discussion doubled. No one lifted a paddle, and Victoria and the Sisters of Mercy looked utterly pale as they stared at the vampires.
“Seven,” Nosh said calmly, not batting an eyelash.
The crowd exploded into chatter, loud enough that the auctioneer was forced to bang a gavel on the podium to calm everyone back down.
I realized I was gripping my seat, just as stunned as everyone else. I now knew how wealthy Nosh was. Or at least how wealthy his parents were.
A woman calmly walked into the room as the gavel struck the podium, as if it had summoned her. She was swirling a wine glass, but it was definitely blood rather than wine.
She wore a red dress that showed entirely too much pale cleavage to be decent, and the fabric hugged her body like a second skin. It was slit at the hip so that each step showed off an alarming swathe of pale thigh. Her hair was as dark as night and her skin was as white as milk.
The three vampires bowed to her in an obedient manner and then backed away a step without raising their eyes. She ignored them, turning to glance over at Nosh with an amused smile. “Do your parents know
you are here, Mr. Griffin? I would imagine they would be quite alarmed at your flagrant disregard for their hard-earned money.”
Nosh stared back at her. “I am a signer on the accounts and have attended numerous auctions in their stead.” He glanced at the podium with a grimace. “Even auctions of allegedly ill repute.”
She laughed lightly, and I felt the hackles on my neck rising. This was the woman behind the abduction. A beautiful woman in a red dress.
“I just finished dinner with them, and they made no mention of you attending the auction this evening. It is concerning, to be honest. I would hate for irreparable harm to come between a boy and his parents.”
“With all due disrespect,” Nosh drawled, enunciating the last word, “I don’t believe any of these distinguished guests should have to suffer through hearing family advice from you and your harem of impotent boys. Unless they’re actually your back-up dancers—in which case I’d have to ask for a demonstration.” He leaned forward, focusing on the vampire he’d been bidding against. “Dance for me, boy.”
The vampire’s fangs snapped out and he clenched his fists furiously.
Nosh sighed sadly, shaking his head as he addressed the rest of the guests in a solemn tone. “Premature e-fangulation is real, folks.”
Victoria burst out laughing, and I was suddenly certain that we were no longer leaving the auction without a fight.
The vampire woman’s features tightened in barely restrained rage. Instead of replying, she turned to the auctioneer, narrowing her eyes. “What trifling sum are we up to?” The auctioneer opened his mouth, but she waved a hand impatiently, cutting him off. “Never mind. Whatever it is, I’ll double it.”
The Sisters of Mercy gaped, lowering their paddles. No one had even noticed them raising it, but it was apparent that they’d reached their limit.
Victoria glared openly at the woman, reaching back to adjust her chopsticks even though they were not out of place.
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