A Guide to Vampire Hunting: ...and other failures (Alchemy Inc. Book 1)

by Janus Alexander

  “Guards!” screamed Gianni. And soon Kristoff and she were swarmed. Amelia kicked and rolled, fending off grabbing hands and snarling mouths, her sword flashed and cut, leaving the less trained guards mauled, and a few dust. In the frenzy she lost sight of Kristoff, until she was yanked up onto the roof of the building she’d been staking out. Kristoff had hauled her up the fire ladder by the back of her coat.

  “The NEXT TIME run when I tell you to.” He growled out, dragging Amelia across the roof’s gravel by her collar. As they reached the suicide barrier of the building leading to the next roof, Kristoff tossed her forward. “I know you know what to do next. Get to the other side and keep going. I’ll be right behind you.” With a glance back, Amelia ran to the edge, then paused and looked back. “What did I tell you about stopping before someone’s dead Amelia? Get your ass over the roof and meet me at your stake out spot!” Kristoff snapped.

  Amelia immediately sprang into motion, she jumped and skidded across the rooftop of the next building, breaking Kristoff’s rule and glancing back once more. But Kristoff wasn’t behind her, he was running the opposite way, straight back into the raging guards. As if sensing her stare, he looked back for a moment. Briefly, they locked eyes, then he pushed ahead and continued forward. The look seemed to be to assure her not to worry, but Amelia was unfazed, there was plenty to worry about.

  Feeling frustrated and vaguely helpless Amelia finally raced off toward her perch across from Nikolais’s.

  Chapter 23

  Amelia paced the edge of her lookout across from Nikolais’s lair waiting for Kristoff to return. Eventually she sat and cleaned her blade, but soon it was spotless, then she reverted to smoking. Had her gamble cost Kristoff his life? Hours passed and dawn came, spilling over the dirty sky in a sickly orange. Amelia couldn’t think, all she could do was worry.

  The flower box across from her was now full of cigarette butts, she would need to leave soon or the nice couple would finally figure out why their flowers were full of smoked Lucky Strikes.

  Amelia lit the last cigarette left in her battered pack and tried to draw it out; when she finished this one, she’d go. She’d have to acknowledge that Kristoff might not be coming back - ever. Amelia let the cigarette burn to the tip of her fingers, sucking the dirty filter to prolong the moment. Eventually the cherry met her fingers, scalding them, and she was finally forced to throw it.

  It was time to give it up. Amelia started to stand carefully, when a hand landed on her shoulder shoving her back down. For a moment, Amelia was terrified she had been followed, but she looked up to see a battered Kristoff. He sat down next to her and flung his legs over the ledge like she always did.

  “I know this wasn’t your idea.” He said part in question and part in accusation. Amelia was quiet. “What did Kolya offer you?”

  “Information on my sister’s death.”

  “Amelia,” he sighed deeply staring up and the grungy sunlight. “Dammit.”

  Amelia looked out over the rooftops. “I’m not mad at him, he actually led me directly to my sister’s killer.”

  “But,” Kristoff said gruffly. “It could have been your killer too… It still might be.” He added in a worried mutter. He stood just as quickly as he had sat and reached down to pull Amelia up with him. “Come, lyublyu, we’re going home.”

  “Home? You’re coming home with me?”

  Kristoff shook his head. “No, Gianni would find you there and take you easily. You’re going home with me.” Amelia tried to douse the momentary excitement of going back with Kristoff, but failed to cover it. “You can stay in the guest room,” He added sharply as if to chastise her naughty thoughts.

  “Why wouldn’t I be in guest room?” Amelia answered snidely as if he had made the mistake of assuming.

  Kristoff bought it, looking at her sneering face with a modicum of…hurt? Was he hurt that she wasn’t trying to get into his bed? He looked away and yanked, “Let’s go. I’m tired and need to bandage up - I haven't even checked you over.”

  “I’m unscathed, don’t worry about me. I held my own.”

  He grunted noncommittally and drug her along the alleys out onto a main thoroughfare. Pulling his cell phone out, Kristoff talked to what had to be his chauffeur on the other side. Amelia followed quietly, wondering why Kolya knew to send her after Gianni - and if he knew Kristoff would come after her if she failed.

  Kristoff’s usual chauffeur pulled up beside them in the Aston Marten, bowed and walked off as if, Kristoff torn to bits and bleeding, was an everyday occurrence warranting no comment.

  Despite his obvious exhaustion, Kristoff opened the passenger door for her, and she looked at him like he was crazy. “Get your ass in the car, I’ll drive, this is not time to play the gentleman,” Amelia said. Kristoff shoved her into the car in response and sat down in the drivers’ seat before she could crawl across the centerline to stop him.

  “As much as I find your concern heartening, I am not as badly off as I look,” he said pulling out into traffic like a rocket taking off.

  “You’re covered in blood.”

  “It’s not all mine.”

  Amelia crossed her arms over her chest. “Then you should have put down a towel to keep the leather from getting damaged.”

  “I have excellent detailers for that, you don’t think this is a first time event do you? This car has been bloodied and bled on regularly for years.”

  “Gross.” She’d just realized that despite the cost of the car, this was basically his batmobile. Or was that a dragula? Who knew. “Shouldn’t you keep a Land Rover or something for hunting purposes?”

  “If you can do something in style, why do it any other way?”

  `“Because this is probably leather from rare virgin, kobe, calves fed only on caviar and truffles.”

  “Lobster and quails eggs, actually.”

  “You seem in an awfully good mood for someone who just got out of a losing battle.” Amelia yawned, the night finally catching up to her.

  “Nothing like bad odds and fresh blood to put one in a good mood in the morning.” He chirped, pulling in to the private parking garage under his building.

  “Hello Richard,” Kristoff said to the security officer from before.

  “Why hello Mr. Kuryakin, lovely day. I see you have your lady friend with you again, how nice! You two have a good morning.” The guard tipped his hat and let them in.

  Amelia looked back at the form of the receding guard, disturbed. “We’re covered in blood, and he just wished us a nice day.”

  “What is it you’re always telling me?” he said as they parked. He opened his door and came around to open Amelia’s. “The rich are weird.” And with that they walked to the private elevator.

  The elevator ride was less uncomfortable this time around, with the two of them being too tired to really give a damn. When they entered Kristoff’s foyer he threw his coat over the railing in a dirty clump. Amelia hadn’t noticed it before, wasn’t really thinking about it, but this coat was a heavy black leather trench not his soft camel. And, though it hid the blood in its oily folds, the blood on the banister kind of gave it away.

  “That’s really not sanitary,” Amelia pointed out and scrunched her nose. “You’re getting blood everywhere.”

  “That’s what I have cleaners for,” Kristoff dismissed walking into the kitchen.

  “I pity your maid,” murmured Amelia following him into the open plan room. But Kristoff hadn’t gone to the kitchen exactly, he’d gone to a lovely wooden cabinet off to the corner and was rummaging around in its recesses.

  “Ah!” He said, pulling a bottle of amber liquor out, “I think a nice snifter of cognac is just what we need.” He pulled out two globes and poured some into each.

  “You’re covered in gore, it’s been a long night, and you want to have a nice glass of cognac?” Kristoff crossed the room to flounce onto one of the nice white leather couches. Amelia cringed. “Ack! You’re getting blood on the couch!” She crie
d rushing forward.

  Kristoff looked around himself, “So I am.” He replied vaguely and took a sip from the glass in his right hand, setting the one in his left on the coffee table. Amelia rushed over and grabbed his wrist.

  “Off! Off! This is ridiculous, you may be rich but blood stains.” She yanked on him as hard as she could. All he did was yank back, until she was unceremoniously flopped down beside him.

  “Now you're getting blood on the couch.”

  “Argh!” cried Amelia. “I’m filthy! This is a waste of a good couch!” She darted off the couch.

  Kristoff yanked her back down and threw a restraining arm over her shoulders. “Relax, I said I have cleaners for this stuff.”

  Amelia felt ill. “CSU cleaners? Crime scene cleaners?” It occurred to her that with his utter disregard of the whole thing, that he must have very good cleaners since he hunted regularly.

  “They’re used to it,” He gestured broadly. Then reached out and handed her the other glass of cognac. “Try it, it’s an acquired taste, but good after a big night out.”

  “You make it sound like we were clubbing.” She took the glass and sniffed it. It had a honey and oak scent that wasn’t necessarily unpleasing. She took a sip and it burned. Deciding it was both good and bad, Amelia cleared her throat, “Speaking of clubbing…”

  “Yes, how did you like seeing every ritz club in the city from the outside? I knew you were there.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t look like you were having such a great time either.”

  Kristoff grimaced. “Why do you say that?”

  Amelia looked incredulous, “The more clubs you went to the less happy you seemed to become. That couldn’t have been my imagination. And you certainly didn’t bring anyone home.”

  “Yes, well, I checked out your dojo, it’s not as nice as mine.”

  “You weren’t surveilling me, I would have known.”

  Kristoff stretched out his legs crossing the ankles in front of him. “No you wouldn’t, I’m just better than you. Don’t take that wrong or anything. I was tracking your cell phone.”

  Amelia smirked, “I was tracking yours.”

  Kristoff gave a surprised grin. “I didn’t know that. Very clever. How?”

  “I got Jack to ensorcel my cell.”

  Kristoff nodded in appreciation, “Maybe you are catching on.”

  “Hey, I almost killed Gianni without your help.”

  His face became red with anger, “No, he almost let you kill him trying to keep you alive for trophy purposes.”

  Amelia snorted, “His mistake almost cost him his life, I nicked his heart.”

  “You said Kolya sent you after Gianni.”

  “Yes…?”

  Kristoff sat forward and dangled his arms between his legs, then took a long sip of his cognac. “Then he and I need to have a talk.”

  “Wait just one f’in minute! He led me to my sister’s killer, more than you’ve done.”

  “And was it Nikolais?” Krisoff snapped.

  “No.”

  Kristoff downed his cognac in one gulp, “Don’t think all’s well that ends well. You almost got yourself killed - or worse.”

  “Did I ask you to come and help me?”

  “Did you want to be turned and kept as Gianni’s pet?” He accused. Amelia looked away. “Finish your cognac, we both need a shower,” he sighed deeply. Amelia looked at the cognac. “Drink it Amelia, you’ll need the pain relief as soon as this evening catches up with your body.” She shotgunned it and Kristoff rolled his eyes. “Not the greatest use of a good glass of liquor - but we’ll work on your palate later.”

  He sighed.

  Chapter 24

  Kristoff drew a deep breath and exhaled deeply, he seemed weary, as if the euphoria of the fight was wearing off. He looked down at Amelia. “Let’s go get a shower.”

  “I don’t know. ”

  “You don’t know what?”

  They both stood brusquely, simultaneously, in an awkward sort of synchronicity.

  Amelia quickly looked out the wide windows where dawn was filtering in and cleared her throat. “Uh. Yeah. Shower. I’ll just go to the guest room…”

  Kristoff reached out and grabbed at the hem of her…well it was his … t-shirt, tugging. “I don’t know,” he mocked. “Maybe I only want the blood in one of my bathrooms.”

  “Ok, I can go after you. You’re the more beaten up.”

  “I need to see you to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere.”

  “Yeah, uh. I’m good.”

  “Not from my vantage.” The shirt came off. And Kristoff dropped it carelessly onto his nice, white, carpeted floor. The red stain imprinted was startling against the nap and Amelia fixated on the contrast, giving Kristoff a pointed look for the mess he was making. “Really, there’s no need to waste water.” He insisted without apology. Then he stood back and slipped his fingers to the tab of her jeans, grinning unrepentantly the whole time.

  “I thought you told me I was sleeping in the guest room.” She pointed out with a sardonic twist to her lips punctuating this by crossing her arms.

  “I did say that didn’t I? But we’re just talking about a shower - not sleeping arrangements.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Oh dear,” he said a mock exclamation of concern, “You’ve gotten your bra all messy too. That’ll have to go as well. ” He clicked his tongue and even made some faint attempt to sound as if disappointed. She didn’t buy it. He popped the button through the hole of her jeans and then unzipped them. Then, returning his gaze to her chest, he left her jeans to hang precariously from her hips.

  Amelia watched his little act with no little sense of amusement and then she cocked her head challengingly and raised an eyebrow. Kristoff reached around her back in a half clasp and undid the hooks of the bra one at a time until it remained only in place where Amelia’s crossed arms held it against her breasts.

  “Come on dear,” he whispered coaxingly as he pulled at the bra to unpin it from her hold, tugging until it pulled free and off. Which meant he just promptly dropped it on top of her soiled top on the now less than pristine floor. He leaned back to study his result with no little sense of what Amelia could only call satisfaction. Then he began to tug his own shirt off to join her missing clothing on the ground. Kristoff's fingers went to the buttons of his own fly, looking at Amelia as if waiting for her to protest at his own coming nudity. But she just shrugged and smirked tauntingly.

  That didn’t mean however, that she wasn’t helpless to look away. But Kristoff just unsnapped the jeans provocatively, gave her a grin, and then started into his boots and socks instead, dropping them to add to the quickly growing pile. “I don’t approve of dirty combat boots on the carpet, Amelia.” He said with mock severity, looking up from the now large pile of discarded modesty. Amelia watched him a little longer with her cocked head and eyebrow, then finally she snickered.

  “Wouldn’t want to dirty the nice white carpet or anything,” she mocked him back looking pointedly at the once spotless carpet, now splotched with red. Then, unlacing her boots, she added them to their pile. Somehow, despite the filth and blood, Amelia was finding the game they played caused an electric tension under her skin. Her body vibrated like a plucked guitar string..

  They were down to one pair of unbuttoned jeans a piece.

  “Now what?” Amelia purred sensually.

  With a toothy smile Kristoff pulled her back toward the foyer, helping her around their pile of clothing like a gentleman helping her avoid a puddle. But as soon as she had cleared the pile, he yanked his hand unexpectedly and she fell clumsily into his chest. In the same move however, he grabbed her head twining his fingers into her hair and dove for her mouth.

  “This is what you wanted when you entered that alley isn’t it?” He breathed across her lips as he pulled her close.

  Amelia’s chest ached from her strained breathing, and she smirked challengingly. “Whatever could you mean by that?”

  Kristoff narrowed
his eyes, “I can still go out and find some club bimbo if you prefer.”

  “You’re taken.”

  “I thought so,” he rasped back, before his hands slid down the back of her jeans onto her naked ass possessively, and his mouth once more swallowed her whole.

  Amelia’s chest expanded quickly as she tried to pull in a full breath, her breasts strained against his ribs at his own struggle to inhale. Without thought Amelia twined her arms around his neck to bring her fingers and nails digging into his scalp. Kristoff pulled back slowly, the air sawing in and out of his mouth.

  “Come upstairs with me, I’m begging you,” he added earnestly, pausing to see if she really wanted to commit to him. He clasped her her hand almost pulling as if desperate to convince her, desperate to drag her upstairs to his rooms.

  “Yes,” she said on a rasping whisper only barley more than breath. “I mean… I suppose I could see spending some time with you.”

  As quickly as the words brushed past her lips, Amelia became disoriented, the stairs and upper rooms flying by like a film on fast forward, an almost inhuman blur of speeding meshed colors spun around her. The world came to a grinding stop suddenly Amelia’s back colliding against a wall with a hard jolt. Amelia could only see a little of where they now were, consumed with Kristoff as he descended to drink from her mouth again. Really, she mused, he scenery was irrelevant.

  Kristoff’s hands shoved at her jeans frantically, their precarious perch on her hips easily giving away to drop to the floor around her ankles. Amelia growled, and stepped out of the fallen pants, kicking them away with a careless flick of her foot, then shoved his own down. With a tumble, the two went through his bathroom door beside them, both trying to regain some sort of control or sanity between them.

  Amelia admitted to herself, as the world seemed to toss around her carelessly, that she couldn’t breathe him into her lungs far enough. Especially when, after he she’d shoved his jeans down, it became obvious he’d forgotten an important piece of clothing this morning. His briefs.