Amelia reached for his cell phone, lying on his bedside table, then hesitated. “No, if we’re going to handle this, then I won’t tell them until it’s necessary. We can take care of this - you and I - and then tell them afterward. No need upset them and send them running into danger if we can end the conflict before they are even involved.”
Kristoff regarded Amelia silently. “Are you sure you don’t at least want to tell your parents about what you have learned and done?”
She shook her head in denial. “They’ll just get in the way. Mom will try to take over and Dad will get himself killed trying to stop it. I’ll just act as if it’s business as usual.”
“That’s going to be hard if you’re living with me.”
“Psht. That’s none of their business. And really they’ll never notice. Mom would probably be happier to hear about me shacking up than screwing up. She’d just figure you’d keep me busy and out of real hunters way.”
Kristoff raised his eyebrows, “I thought you were quoting this woman at me only an hour ago as if she were the absolute authority on everything. You sound like you may not agree with her all the time.”
“You could say that,” groaned Amelia, flushing. “We don’t see eye to eye about almost anything. But. She’s my mother and she’s from a famous clan of hunters. So I listen to her.” Kristoff opened his mouth most likely to point out how many times her mother had been wrong so far, but Amelia cut him off. “Now, I didn’t say I’ll listen to her about everything anymore.” Kristoff looked too self satisfied with this comment. “But I’m not going to listen to what you say all the time either.” He frowned. “I spent a lot of time learning about hunting by myself when you left, I think I need to listen and then make my own decisions. You’re not always going to be there (Kristoff glared) - No. You cant always be there to help me. I have to think about this for myself some too,” Amelia continued.
“Until this is over, I will always be there. You can’t do this on your own.” Amelia opened her mouth to argue. “I agree that you need to become better at taking care of yourself, but until that time, I expect you to follow my lead…Now, I think it’s time for bed.” He said pulling up the covers.
Amelia yawned. “Alright, I’ll stay here tonight, but I’m still not sure if moving in with you to this extent is wise. I may move into the guest bedroom. Can’t have you mistaking me for a sure thing.”
Kristoff snorted. “You are a sure thing.” He teased. Amelia narrowed her eyes stagily.
“On second thought, maybe you should move into the guest room. I kind of like this mattress, and I am your guest…”
“Go to bed Amelia.”
“Goodnight Kristoff.”
“Night.”
Chapter 26
Amelia woke up around five in the evening the next day, shocked at how tired she had been, and still sore from the night before. “Uggh.” Amelia sighed rolling into a sitting position.
The curtains were still pulled over the windows and the room was still gloomy. Kristoff was still asleep as well. Amelia nudged him to wake him up, but he didn’t move an inch, he just slept on. She frowned and shoved him again. “Wake up, it’s getting late,” she huffed in annoyance. Still no movement. He slept like the damn dead. Annoyed, Amelia got up and wandered through his rooms to the downstairs. Amelia noticed, moving through, that starting at the top of the stairs, Kristoff’s rooms spread out in a suite of different spaces. It seemed that he could have lived on just that floor alone with all the rooms it had. A bedroom, an office, another sitting room… It really was a little apartment all its own.
Descending the stairs, Amelia wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was bare, and immediately her stomach grumbled at the prospect of no food. What did Kristoff live on as big as he was? Take out? Probably. Knowing him, he didn’t bother himself with cook ing - too busy with other pursuits. But Amelia needed to eat after the last two days.
She walked over to the pile of clothing they’d left on the floor the night before to see if anything could be salvaged and realized she was not only stranded in a house without food - but without the clothing to go get any. She was going to have to find something to wear in Kristoff’s drawers.
Annoyed at the prospect of having to wait longer to eat, Amelia stomped back up the stairs and back into Kristoff’s room where he still slept soundly. Amelia went to the dresser that Kristoff had pulled her shirt from the night before and began sifting around. To her chagrin, it all was either very expensive or very much too big.
“Are you trying to rob me?” Came Kristoff’s drowsy drawl. “The clothing isn’t worth as much as the electronics, and those are downstairs.”
“Ha, ha. No, I’m trying to find something to wear so I can go out and get food. Your refrigerator is empty.”
Kristoff sat up with obvious reluctance looking deliciously rumpled. “So it is. I’ll just call the concierge for something right now, and we’ll go looking for groceries later.”
“The concierge? This is an apartment complex not the Ritz.”
Kristoff just waved his hand at her dismissively. “Yes, yes. Rake me over the coals for being rich later. Just tell me what you want right now,” he fumbled over for a phone on the bedside.
“Coffee and a pop tart would be nice.”
Kristoff stared at her. “An omelette and fresh fruit it is. You eat like a child Amelia.”
“It is perfectly normal to eat pop tarts at any age, thank you very much.”
“Yes, but when looking at your diet as a whole, being very little, it’s not enough for you to be getting strong enough to be an effective hunter. A starving hunter, is a dead hunter.” Taking the phone, Kristoff simply picked it up, dialed 0 and spoke into it. “I’d like a three egg cheese and ham omelette, cut fruit, coffee and the morning’s paper sent up to apartment 13. Yes, cream and sugar would be appreciated. Thank you. No, that will be all. Thank you.” He hung up the phone.
“Is that the bat phone for rich kids? Servants on call and a button away twenty-four seven?”
“You get what you pay for.” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Now,” he said, getting out of bed. “We should find you something to wear.” Moving from the dresser she had been examining, Kristoff went into a large closet and came out with a pair of his white gi pants. “The drawstring should make this work,” He remarked, tossing them to Amelia. Amelia in turn put them on and cinched them. They did indeed cling just enough to her hips to stay up. But due to their height difference, she still swam in them. Kristoff bent down and rolled up the cuffs. “Well, you look like a sailor in the British Royal Navy, but I think this is the best we can do for now. We’ll have to run by your apartment later to get what you’ll need for a few weeks.”
Amelia hummed in agreement. A knocking then came from downstairs. “Mr. Kuryakin, your requests sir,” came a polite and formal voice.
“Excellent,” said Kristoff, pulling a shirt on over his sleep pants. “I’ll be right down!” Then he bounded out of the room for the door. Amelia followed at a more careful pace, seeking to keep from tripping over her trailing cuffs.
By the time Amelia reached the kitchen, Kristoff was unloading covered china plates from a nice little tea cart onto the bar in his kitchen. “Come on Amelia, we've a busy day today,” he admonished. Pouring two cups of coffee he took the paper for himself and left her the cream and sugar.
Amelia sat at the single setting he laid and looked at him quizzically, “Aren’t you going to eat?”
He gestured vaguely with his coffee cup. “I don’t eat breakfast,” he replied without looking up from the paper.
“After you gave me a ration about not eating properly myself? Hypocrite much?”
“I’m the master here, you do what I say - not what I do.”
She glared and started into her eggs. The omelette, as could be presumed, was a fluffy yellow perfection. “What are you reading?” She asked, attempting to make conversation. “Looking over your stocks or something?”
/>
“Nope. Looking for clues.”
“My sister died several years back, it won’t be in the paper.”
“No, but we might be… There, several Italian mafia members were admitted to the hospital last night in what is being surmised to be a minor skirmish in a turf war with another gang.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
“Well, we’re the other gang. After you escaped last night I had to deal with quite a few of Gianni’s human minions. I just wanted to see how badly we’d damaged them to gauge what would be going around about us. No deaths so far means we aren’t attracting too much attention. We don’t need the authorities made suspicious of our activities just yet. And hopefully not at all.”
Amelia blanched, she hadn’t thought of that. Vigilantism would attract more than just the notice of the clans if human servants were slain. Human bodies wouldn’t disintegrate like a vampire’s. Kristoff folded the paper decisively and took a big gulp of his coffee.
“Don’t worry, we’re under the radar so far. We just have to be cognizant of attracting the media, things get dicey when you’re dodging the humans as much as the vampires.”
“How do you do it then?”
“I move. A lot.”
“You’re not really on vacation.”
“Oh, I am - or at least I was until you showed up.”
“Yes, but, it’s why you're here. Wherever you were last got too hot.”
Kristoff shrugged. “If you’re going to hunt, you’re going to have to learn to not get too attached to any people or places.”
Amelia paused at the thought, it was a reminder that his presence here was only temporary. Was getting involved past the professional really wise when he would be up and leaving whenever he decided his time here was done? Amelia pensively studied her plate.
“Anyway, once you finish breakfast, we need to get by your apartment - before it’s dark. I’d imagine with the resources they have, and with the knowledge of your family, Gianni will be sending you visitors tonight.”
“Shouldn’t we meet them head-on? What if they decide to attack my neighbors?”
Kristoff shook his head decisively, “No - they’re just looking for you - unless you have friends at your apartment building?”
“I have Jack.”
Kristoff snorted. “Jack can take care of himself.”
“Excuse me?” Amelia asked, put out at the dismissal of her roommate.
As if retracing his statement Kristoff cleared his throat, “Trust me, Jack’s security is excellent - and without you there as an inducement he would be too much trouble as a target. They have nothing to gain by causing a scene. They don’t want public eyes on their activities any more than we do.”
Amelia cleared her plate and took it to the sink to wash it, but Kristoff snagged the thing from her as soon as she was within reach and set it back on the tea cart. “I have people for that,” he teased. Then draining his coffee cup he added it to the pile. Amelia rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’m going to change and we’ll leave shortly.” Kristoff left the paper on the counter and wandered back upstairs. Amelia walked over to her pile of clothes on the family room floor and pulled out her boots from the night before.
By the time Amelia had gotten her shoes back on, Kristoff had returned from changing and looked disgustingly put together in a nice pair of jeans and a plain white shirt. His camel coat hung over his arm. “Ready?” he asked.
Amelia felt slightly underdressed - even shabby - compared to him in his clean finery, and shrugged dismissively. “I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to get,” she replied. And the two walked out to his door. “What about the tea cart? Should we put that out?”
“Nope, they’ll come get it.”
“But they’ll see the pile of bloody clothing?!”
Kristoff smirked, “I don’t pay such high rent for just an apartment and a ‘batphone.’ Discretion doesn’t come cheap.”
“It makes me wonder what the rest of the residents in your building do.”
“I don’t ask, and they don’t tell. It works out for all of us.” He replied cheekily, and the two got into his private elevator for the lower parking garage.
The ride over to Amelia’s was uneventful, and their arrival in her part of Brooklyn just as eye-catching as ever. In his multi-million dollar car But somehow, Kristoff not only managed to park on the street immediately, but also give the local hoods enough of a scare that they made a concerted effort to pretend they hadn’t noticed the Aston.
Amelia trudged up to her apartment on the third floor trying to collect what she wanted to pack in her mind to make the whole process easier. She didn’t really notice until she’d reached her door, that it was splintered and hanging off its hinges, the security camera only a dangling bunch of glass and wires. Amelia looked up, blanched, and her heart caught. “Jack!”
*
Kristoff pulled Amelia back from dashing inside. His nostrils flared at the sudden stench of unwashed bodies. “Looks like Gianni wants you more than I had anticipated. He sent his daylight guards to come get you.” He navigated himself slowly through the broken door and around the debris of whatever was left of the plaid couch, and glanced around and then motioned Amelia inside. From what he could tell, Jack had gotten out before the violence occurred, but Amelia was frantic.
“But Jack! I thought you said he’d be fine!”
Kristoff knew acting as upset as Amelia was would only make things worse so he affected confident bonne homme and gestured grandly to the door to Jack’s room. Amelia, of course, ran headlong into it, only to skid to a stop when she reached the interior. Kristoff followed her at a measured pace, trying to get a feel for how soon the thugs would be returning. When he reached Jack’s command post, Kristoff fought off a grin. It was just as he’d suspected, the rascal had jumped ship in time to evacuate not only himself but his expensive toys.
Looking in, the walls were bare, stripped of their coverings, cords hung from the ceiling, the windows that had been sealed with blackout curtains had been uncovered revealing broken blinds - even the trashcan was empty. Strangely, Amelia looked confused at the empty trashcan, and not a little upset, Kristoff was about to ask her what was bothering her when she darted from the room. Following her, he couldn’t help but feel a spike of pity for the state of her little room when he perceived its destruction. The apartment may have been needlessly shabby thanks to Jack’s clueless disregard for his surroundings - but it was obvious that this room had held all of Amelia’s life. He felt sad suddenly that her fate was being decided by the politics of a war she really hadn’t been part of until tragedy struck. If he could have had his way, she would be far from such monsters as Gianni.
For several moments Amelia stood in front of her doorway staring at the remains of her life ripped up on floor. In the corner he spied a steel welded sculpture twisted out of shape and beaten. From the lines left Kristoff knew it had been sensuous and well turned at one time. But he had little further moment to consider the loss before he looked to Amelia and saw her face. When she came in and found her room tossed, she had been calmer than he had thought she would be - but when she spotted the twisted metal her face drained of color and she looked like she was trying hard not to cry.
Kristoff immediately stepped toward her to offer comfort, but she pulled back, obviously upset about her impending tears. She turned away resolutely and began rummaging through the mess.
“Can I help you?” Kristoff asked carefully. Amelia shook her head sharply in the negative and, pulling a ratty backpack out of the tumult began shoving any clothing not destroyed into her bag. “Amelia leave it, I can replace…”
“Don’t finish that sentence. I’m not going to take a hand out, even if you’re my boyfriend.”
“So,” Kristoff chuckled, trying to change her focus. “I’m your boyfriend? Isn’t that a step down from lover? I mean, if I’m simply your boyfriend it is not assumed we are having relations just yet.”
&nbs
p; Amelia glared over her shoulder at him and turned back to her bagging. “I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work. I’m not in the mood to play word games.” Suddenly, her gaze snapped to one of the dirty corners and a soda bottle stuffed full of trash. She darted across the floor and picked it up. Painstakingly, she pried the trash from inside the bottle and opened it out. A bright smile crossed her features for the first time since they’d entered the cursed place. “He’s alive!” Amelia exclaimed.
“Proper names instead of pronouns, Amelia.”
“Jack left me a message…”
“In a bottle. How droll. Even in a tragedy he stoops to fulfill his fantasy of being a great pirate captain.”
Amelia shot him a dirty look, “As long as he’s alright I don’t care if he decides to be an oompaloompa.”
Amelia returned to collecting her things and Kristoff stepped over to the broken blinds to look out. If they were even decently intelligent, Gianni’s thugs would have noticed their arrival by now. His eyes snapped to where a non-descript black suv was pulling up next to his Aston. He gritted his teeth. They had better not scratch his baby or he’d skin their hides for his next leather seats.
“Hurry up,” Kristoff snapped. “We’ve got movement in the parking lot… Nothing I can’t handle mind you. But I would prefer fewer hijinks when we’re trying to make scarce.”
“I’m going, I’m going…Ok, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Kristoff’s mind quickly turned over escape routes. The building was old enough it was centered on a central stairwell that even from the bottom you could see every floor hallway from. “Does this place have a back exit?”
“Kind of…”
Kristoff shook his head, this would be interesting. “Alright, then I’ll follow you Sacajweia.”
Amelia dashed out of her front door, glancing down the stairwell, the sounds of a group of rowdy men entering echoed up the building. She visibly cringed, then suddenly went for the door to an apartment three doors down from hers.
A Guide to Vampire Hunting: ...and other failures (Alchemy Inc. Book 1) Page 17