Burke and the Vampire

by Edward Kendrick

  “More the fools,” Reynaud said with some asperity. “Who on earth would believe there really are vampires? Ghosts, perhaps, although I’ve yet to run into one.”

  Burke laughed. “You mean, as old as your home is, it isn’t haunted?”

  “Is yours?” Reynaud retorted, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Not that I know of, thank God. I don’t think I’d want to run into great-grandpa Gareau, not matter how interesting it could be to learn what living was like back then.”

  “Probably a lot harder than it is today.”

  “Probably? I’d say that’s a given,” Burke replied. “Maybe I should do some research then come up with a game where the player has to figure out how to survive day to day. I could even throw in a few vampires, to make it more interesting.”

  “Would something like that sell?” Reynaud asked, genuinely interested.

  “Iffy,” Burke admitted. “Most game players want lots of action. I don’t think avoiding horse droppings or prostitutes selling themselves in Storyville come under that heading.”

  “Probably not.” Reynaud remembered what it was like back then and added, “Although it was when jazz was born.”

  “In the twenties.”

  “Oh, no. Well before then. But that’s a discussion for another time. I really should leave. It’s getting late.”

  Burke nodded. “So should I,” he replied as he finished his beer. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again, if you come here often.”

  “Perhaps.” Reynaud liked the idea. It was nice talking with someone who could hold a conversation that didn’t have sexual undertones. Not that he ever responded to them. I don’t need that kind of trouble. He drank the last of his wine and got up.

  Burke joined him as they walked downstairs. When they reached the sidewalk outside the bar, they said their ‘Goodnights’. Reynaud watched Burke until he turned the corner a block up. I wonder if I will see him again. Doubtful, I suppose. He considered trying one more time this evening to catch The Hunter’s attention, then shelved the idea and headed home.

  * * * *

  Burke cautiously peered around the corner, looking for Reynaud. He saw him walking in the opposite direction and followed, staying well behind him. He honestly hoped that the vampire wouldn’t go after someone, intending on feeding from them. He liked Reynaud, what little he knew of him. The idea of killing him because he was a predator didn’t make him happy—although he would, if necessary. Four blocks later, Reynaud turned right on St. Louis. Burke got there barely in time to see him enter a house halfway down the block.

  At least I know where to find him, if I want to.

  Why he’d want to, he wasn’t certain. It wasn’t as if they would become bosom buddies. Not when Burke knew what Reynaud was. If we became friends and then I had to kill him because he wasn’t really as benign as he seems to be. Yeah, that would be no fun at all.

  Chapter 3

  It was two weeks before Burke saw Reynaud again. He’d had a bad day because part of the game he was designing was giving him fits. Despite going over the coding three times, he couldn’t find where the problem was. Giving up in disgust, trusting it would hit him when he returned to work on Monday, he started his usual Friday night hunt in the Quarter. He honestly hoped he’d find a vampire in the midst of feeding on a victim. It might relieve some of his stress to take the creature out.

  By midnight, he was ready to call it a night. He was almost to his car when he decided he felt like a beer. One beer, then head home. Leaving his gun locked in the trunk of the car, he headed back and to the club on Dauphine. He got his beer before going upstairs to the balcony. Two men had just gotten up from one of the tables, taking their drinks with them. Burke made a beeline to it, beating out another pair with the same intention.

  He’d been there for ten minutes, enjoying the cooler December air and watching the men inside on the dance floor when he sensed the presence of a vampire. He turned to check the street below him then realized the creature was much closer.

  If asked, but who would, he wasn’t terribly surprised when he turned back to see Reynaud standing a couple of feet away.

  “Is this seat taken?” Reynaud asked, mimicking Burke’s words from the last time they’d met. “It’s too nice a night to be cooped up indoors.”

  Burke laughed. “It’s not, and it is. Have a seat.”

  Reynaud smiled and did, setting down his glass of wine.

  “No bodyguard duties tonight?”

  “There were, earlier, but he’s safely home now. I decided to wind down by stopping in here before going home as well. I’ll admit, it’s nice to see you again.”

  “I could say the same, although I honestly didn’t expect to.”

  Reynaud cocked his head. “Why?”

  Burke smiled wryly. “My luck never seems to run to meeting the same interesting man more than once.”

  “You find me interesting?” Reynaud seemed surprised.

  “If the last time was any indication you can carry on a conversation without making it seem like a prelude to a seduction.”

  Reynaud laughed. “Why come here if that’s not your aim.”

  “Because it’s not like the ones on Bourbon. Sure, guys are looking, but not panting, if that makes sense. If I tell them I’m not interested, most of them accept it with good grace.”

  “Ah. I see. I’m not certain I agree, however. I’ve had to make it quite clear to more than one man that when I say ‘No thanks’ it means exactly that.”

  “I’m surprised, although maybe I shouldn’t be,” Burke replied. “It’s the eyes, I think. They smolder.”

  “You have got to be kidding.”

  “Not at all. Hasn’t anyone told you that before?”

  Reynaud took a sip of his wine, as if giving himself time to think of a reply. Then he shook his head. “Not that I recall.” Setting the glass down again, he said, “Are you trying to seduce me with flattery? If so, it won’t work.”

  “Good lord, no.”

  Reynaud seemed taken aback at Burke’s emphatic reply, although he replied with a smile, “Good. I’d hate to think you were that callow.”

  Their bantering, because as far as Burke was concerned it was only that, gave him an idea. I wonder if I could, well, not seduce him, but get him interested enough in me that I could…No. He’d never tell me who any of the other vampires he knows are, because to get him to do that, I’d have to let him know I’m aware of what he is, and why I want to know. That could be asking for trouble of the deadly kind. I doubt he’d take kindly to my killing off ones who might be his friends.

  “You went quiet all of a sudden,” Reynaud said.

  “Sorry. The damned game I’m working on is driving me crazy. For a second I thought I might know which line of coding is causing the problem, until I realized I’d already checked it out…twice.” He chuckled. “That means nothing to you, I’m sure.”

  “Nothing at all. Computers are not something I’m familiar with except as machines that allow me to communicate with friends around the world, and keep up with the news. How that works…” Reynaud spread his hands. “It’s all Greek to me.”

  Burke grinned. “I think in this case it would be, ‘It’s all geek to you’.”

  * * * *

  Grinning, Reynaud replied, “A bad pun, but true.” He realized he was enjoying talking with Burke. The man, the human, was entertaining without overdoing it. Reynaud had discovered it was something that rarely happened, when he was willing to hold a conversation with one or another of them in a club. There’s always the underlying question about whether I’ll go home with them if they can keep my interest, so they try too hard. He knew he was being cynical, which didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth, in his opinion.

  “Now you’re being the quiet one,” Burke said.

  “Because with you I don’t feel the need to chatter nonstop.”

  “All right. That works, as long as I’m not boring you.”

  “Not at all.”
Reynaud rested one arm on the balcony railing. “Tell me, what do you do for entertainment, other than hanging out here?”

  “Good question. Read. Walk. I’m pretty much of a loner most of the time, I’m afraid.”

  “There is nothing wrong with that,” Reynaud replied. “I am, too. I get enough of people when I’m working. I rather enjoy my solitude when I’m not.”

  “And yet you come here.”

  “On occasion. It has more to do with being able to be with people without having to check them out to make certain they’re not dangerous.” I spend too much of my time these days looking for one very dangerous man, not that I can tell Burke that.

  “From what you’ve said, what you do must be very stressful. I should pick your brain for what it involves, in case I decide to design a game that requires a bodyguard keeping the people who hire him safe.”

  “It would be a very boring game. Unlike the movies, in real life it truly is a case of watching for anyone who might be after my boss, then spiriting him away before they can do anything.”

  “No drawn guns and the big chase?” Burke asked, chortling.

  “Not at all.”

  “Well, hell. There goes my image of you as the strong, silent, tough guy.”

  “I do hope you’re kidding,” Reynaud replied dryly.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  Reynaud tapped his fingers together, frowning.

  “Was that the wrong thing to say?” Burke asked.

  “No. I was just wondering. I know this is out of the blue, but you said you like to walk. It’s late enough the tourists have probably headed back to their hotels, meaning a walk along the river could be a pleasure, not an exercise in dodging them.” What the hell am I doing? Reynaud wondered the moment the words were out of his mouth. I should have told him it was late and I was going to head home. He smiled to himself. Like any normal human would at this hour.

  “Since I’m parked in one of the lots not too far from the river, sure, why not.”

  Leaving their unfinished drinks on the table, they made their way down to the sidewalk outside the club. As they did, Reynaud’s acute hearing picked up a comment—“Damn, Sexy finally hooked up with someone.”—and wondered if the speaker meant him. Glancing around, he saw two men watching him and Burke and winked. Not that what he said was the truth, but what the hell.

  As they made their way toward the river, Burke said, pointing, “We could stop at Du Monde for beignets and eat them while we walk.”

  “We could, if we wanted to be covered with powdered sugar.”

  “There is that, so yeah, let’s not.”

  When they got there, they walked in companionable silence along the river until they reached Woldenberg Park, at which point Burke stopped, leaning against the railing to look back at the city. “A hundred years ago the influenza epidemic was in full swing, and people were dealing with it and the Axeman murders. Not a good time to be living here.”

  “Ah, but the jazz…” Reynaud replied, joining him but resting his arms on the railing, looking out over the river. “It made it all worthwhile, or for me it would have if I’d been living then.” Careful, he cautioned himself. While I doubt he believes in vampires, I don’t want him wondering how I’d know what it was like back then. “I take it you’re a history buff,” he said. “I know I am.”

  “Not sure I’m a buff per se. My father was, because of our house, and he passed a few stories on to me.” Burke turned to look at Reynaud. “Did you know there’s a house in the Quarter, on Royal, which used to belong to a French Count? According to the legends, he was a vampire.”

  * * * *

  Burke watched Reynaud as he said that, wondering what his response would be.

  Reynaud chuckled. “Comte Jacques St. Germaine. I pass the house every day and wonder if he’s still haunting it.”

  “You believe he was a vampire?” Burke replied with apparent if feigned disbelief.

  “Of course not. I’ve told you that, but it does make a good story. If they existed and he was one of them, I can see him hiding there, cursing the day the present owners decided to allow tours of their…of his home.”

  “I’m sure he’d have moved on by now,” Burke said.

  Reynaud nodded. “I would have, if I were him. But enough of vampires, real or imagined. It’s probably time for both of us to head home.”

  I think I hit a nerve, although he did a good job of covering it up. “Yeah, we probably should. I have the dreaded Saturday house cleaning tomorrow.”

  “Not a fun chore, but necessary,” Reynaud replied with a shake of his head as he pushed off the railing.

  They walked back the way they’d come, passing the pier where one of the steamboats was docked for the night. Gesturing toward it Burke asked, “Have you ever taken the tour?”

  “Once, a few years ago. I discovered I get seasick, which made it no fun at all.”

  “Ouch. So if I suggested we try it on Sunday you’d say no?”

  “Most definitely, even if I was free during the day, which I’m not. My friend, my boss, is doing something and needs me with him.”

  “On a Sunday?”

  Reynaud nodded. “When you run a corporation as large as his, you work every day, even weekends when necessary.”

  He’s good. He has his excuses down pat for not being available during the day. No big surprise, I suppose.

  “Will you stop by the club afterward?” Burke asked.

  “If you’re going to be there I will.”

  Burke smiled. “Then it’s a date. I’ll warn you, I won’t be sticking around as late as I do on Friday and Saturday nights. I do have to show up at my job on Monday with a working brain.”

  “To fix the game you’re having problems with?”

  “Yes. I’m going to figure it out if it kills me.”

  Reynaud laughed. “If it does, you can become another of the supposed ghosts who haunt the city.”

  “I think I’ll pass, thanks. And there’s where I parked.” Burke nodded toward a lot. “I’ll see you Sunday night.”

  “That you will,” Reynaud replied before continuing down the street toward Bourbon with a backward wave over his shoulder.

  Damn, I hope he’s one of the good ones. I like him. If things were different we could become friends, I think. Okay, maybe we are already…sort of. Who knew I’d even want to become a friend of a vampire after seeing what some of them are like. Not me, that’s for sure.

  With that thought, Burke walked to where he’d parked his car and headed home.

  Chapter 4

  “It’s not as if we don’t have enough problems with The Hunter,” Antoine said the moment Reynaud joined him in the living room of his mansion, soon after dark Saturday evening. “We also have a rogue to contend with, or will any time now.”

  “Now’s when it would be nice if The Hunter was in the right place at the right time to stop him,” Reynaud said sardonically.

  “That is your job.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Reynaud sighed. “Do we know who it is?”

  “Dario Morra.”

  “What? The last time I heard he was happily ensconced with his latest girlfriend, somewhere in Venice. You’re certain it’s him?”

  “Absolutely. I have no idea why he’s gone rogue, but he has, and is or soon will be in New Orleans. That does not make me happy.”

  “What rogue does?” Reynaud asked. “All right, I’ll see if I and my men can find him.”

  Reynaud strode out of the room, sending out a call for his team to join him at his house. When he arrived, flying there as was the wont of his kind, he found some of them had already arrived. The rest showed up minutes later.

  “We have a problem,” he said.

  “No kidding,” said Vincente, one of Reynaud’s best searchers. “The Hunter.”

  “Yes, but this time it’s not him. It’s Dario Morra. He’s gone rogue and may well be somewhere in the city as we speak.”

  “You don’t know for
certain?” another man asked.

  “No, but let’s presume he is. We have to stop him and fast before the humans realize he’s preying on them.”

  “If we knew who The Hunter was…” Vincente said.

  Reynaud chuckled. “Precisely what I said to Antoine. Unfortunately, we don’t. For those of you who don’t know what Morra looks like…” Reynaud used his mind gift to give all of them an image of the rogue. “Let’s get out there and pray we find him before he does irreparable harm by revealing that we exist.”

  Reynaud split the team into pairs to cover the most populated areas of Antoine’s territory—the majority of them in the Quarter. He would travel between there and the section of Magazine Street which housed various attractions popular with the tourists. He knew, since the word was out about Morra, the kings of the other territories would have sent their own people to hunt for him in their parts of the city.

  “Good luck, men. We’ll need it,” he said before his team dispersed.

  * * * *

  Burke walked along Magazine Street, checking every pass-through between the buildings and every side street. He had dressed as he usually did, in jeans and a casual shirt that helped him blend in with the tourists wandering from restaurants to shops to galleries. So far, he hadn’t felt the presence of any vampires who worried him. There were some, but they seemed as benign as it was possible for their kind to be.

  Suddenly, that changed. Four of them appeared a block ahead of him. They paired off, going to the rooftops on each side of the street.

  Are they looking for me? Good luck if they are. He smiled grimly as he continued his search for any of their kind bent on feeding from the locals or tourists. He’d walked three more blocks, in the opposite direction from the two sets of vampires, when he felt a lone one close by. A moment late he saw him and shivered. He felt…vicious was the only way Burke could describe it. Much more so than the average ones he’d gone after.

  The creature was staring intently at a couple who had just exited one of the bars. They weren’t obviously drunk, but they weren’t sober, either, if the way the woman was clinging to the man’s arm was any indication. They walked down the block past the vampire, who fell in a few feet behind them, until they came to a narrow alley between a house and one off the restaurants.