Business Makes Strange Bedfellows

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Business Makes Strange Bedfellows Page 3

by E. E. Ottoman


  "This is D.r Bower." Vi introduced them. "I need your help, Sheridan."

  "Oh?" He uncurled then, turning towards them. Gert could see dark circles under his eyes and clear outlines of his bones, as if he'd been starved. There was also a mottled bruise along the right side of his face. "And how may I help you?"

  "What do you know about the Old Ones?"

  The change was immediate. Sheridan's body shook all over, flailing on the bed. His eyes rolled back in his head so only the whites showed, and he made choking noises deep in his throat. Gert took a step forward, worried he'd choke on his own tongue.

  Vi's hand on her shoulder stopped her, which was for the best because seconds later, Sheridan sat bolt upright and then threw himself off the bed at Vi with a long high scream. His teeth were bared, hands out like claws. Vi caught him by the throat and lifted him so only his toes touched the ground as if he weighed nothing while he gasped and clawed at her hand.

  "The question, Sheridan," she said, voice calm as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

  "You're all going to die." Sheridan let out a manic laugh around Vi's grip on his throat.

  Vi tsked. "So melodramatic. If you were to lure one of the young of the elder-kind, how would you do it?"

  "I wouldn't." Sheridan giggled, and Vi's mouth tightened into a thin angry line, her grip tightening.

  "Just answer the question."

  "Would you bring Richard to me if I did?" Sheridan cocked his head to one side. Vi's eyebrows went up, and her grip on Sheridan's throat loosened a little.

  "You know I can't do that," she said, voice gentler than before. "Even if I could, he wouldn't come."

  Sheridan seemed to deflate in her grasp, going limp, and then he was thrashing, trying to claw at Vi's face. "You're lying!" It came out in a half-choked scream. "You're lying; he'll come. He'll come for me." He began to cry—large, shuddering sobs that wracked his body.

  "Sheridan." Vi lowered him so he was standing on the floor again, although she did not let go of his neck. "Tell me what you know."

  "You need something that sounds like the call of its mother." Sheridan got out between sobbing gasps, and Vi let him go.

  Sheridan crumbled to the floor, still sobbing, and curled into a fetal position bruises standing out livid on his neck. Gert swallowed.

  "Time to go." Vi walked to the door and rapped on it with her cane.

  Dr. Blackburn opened the door, and Vi led the way back into the hall. Even when the heavy door was closed and locked again, they could still hear Sheridan crying on the other side.

  Gert was quiet, lost in her own thoughts as Vi said their farewells to Dr. Blackburn and then during the trip off Blackwell's Island back to the city. When they climbed into the carriage that would drop them off to their respective apartments.

  "Did you have to be so harsh with him?"

  Vi turned to her. "He would have killed you if I'd let him go. He would have killed you to hurt me, or maybe try to force my hand, make me find Richard."

  "Richard?" Sheridan had said the name as well.

  Vi pressed her lips together again. "Richard Lawrence is one of the very few other vampires whose existence I know of. Sheridan was Richard's lover for a long time, brilliant in so many ways, but in the end, Richard broke him."

  She looked away, out the window of the carriage at the darkened city.

  "You took me to see him not just to get information—you could have done that alone, after all—but to make a point." She studied Vi from across the inside of the carriage. It was hard to make out Vi's expression in the darkness. "Or to give a warning."

  Vi stirred, finally. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it was a warning."

  "But I don't understand." Gert felt a little lost. "I thought you wanted me. That was the reason for our deal."

  "The warning is not to abstain from sleeping with me." Vi stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankle, and gave her a small smile. "Or even not to share your blood. The warning was against becoming emotionally attached. The world is a far darker place than you know."

  Arching her eyebrows, Gert thought of the creature devouring the brains out of the body back at the laboratory, but didn't argue.

  "Don't worry." The carriage pulled to a stop in front of her apartment. "I am not planning on becoming emotionally involved with you anytime soon."

  She slammed the door of the carriage before Vi could answer.

  *~*~*

  There were three human hearts on the tray next to the small electrostatic generator. Usually these sorts of experiments were the highlight of her day after the hours of tedious dissection and note transcription was complete. Today, though, she found it hard to concentrate on her work.

  She dug her pocket watch out of her waistcoat pocket and placed it next to the tray of hearts. Picking up the long metal wand attached to the generator, she inserted it into one of the hearts before beginning to crank the machine. The air around her filled with the faint crackle of electricity, causing the hair on her arms and the back of her neck to stand on end. On the tray the heart twitched, spasming a little.

  Satisfied after a minute, she stopped the generator and eased the wand free. The heart kept pumping on the tray with a normal, healthy rhythm. Gert picked up a syringe of alchemic elixir and injected the heart with it. The elixir would prevent decay for as long as a few months, allowing for further study. Reaching for her notepad, she began to record this batch of findings. It was good, the progress they were making revitalizing individual body parts was progressing nicely. Of course the ultimate goal of her research and that of the Society's was the complete reanimation of a human body. They were far from that still, but one day she was confident it would happen, perhaps in her lifetime even. With a last note marked down in her disorderly scrawl, she set aside her notepad and stretched her arms over her head.

  As happened too often these days, her thoughts went to Vi and she frowned. Why must Vi be so irritating? Obviously she was not the type to be overly concerned with ethics, or she would not have made the deal in the first place. After their trip to the asylum, however, she had acting as if Gert was some gothic swooning maiden and she was the dark yet noble hero. Really, though, it had simply been frustrating.

  The world is a far darker place than you know.

  Gert huffed and stuck the metal wand into the next human heart with more force than she probably should have, given its fragile state. A small amount of blood squirted onto the table, and she swore and reached for her handkerchief. Who was Vi to lecture her about darkness? Her research aimed to conquer death itself and unlock its secrets. And when it came to matters of the bedroom, she was far from a swooning maiden with her first crush.

  She was an adult woman, perfectly capable of understanding the difference between affairs of the hearts and desires of the flesh. Granted, at first the idea of spending an evening of carnal lust with Vi had seemed unappealing. Now, though… her mind flashed to the way Vi walked, her silent grace, sly smile, the way her pert backside filled out her trousers under her jacket. It looked very squeezable. She wanted to know what those thin smirking lips tasted like, wanted to know if Vi enjoyed being bitten as much as she seemed to enjoy biting others. She wanted to lick down Vi's long, pale throat, wanted to leave marks on the inside of Vi's thighs and hear her moan. She wanted their night together to be rough and dirty, but she did not want Vi up on some high horse.

  The second heart on the tray was pulsing right along with the same rhythmic pace as her own. She injected it and then placed it along with the other she'd already stimulated onto a smaller tray. She carried both over to the table where the jars of preservative liquid were located. Between the injection and the liquid in the preservation jars, she had been able to keep most of the organs she'd reanimated alive for the better part of a year at most. Based on the organs' response to both liquids, she'd begun research into preservative formulas that might replace blood in her reanimated person. Decay would still be an issue for a reani
mated corpse, after all—or someone in their second life, as she liked to think of it.

  After placing the hearts in the preservation jars and securing the lids, she carried them over to the shelf of other reanimated organs that pulsed within their own jars. She regarded them critically; they represented years of successful reanimation of discrete sections of the body, but never the whole all at once. She'd increased the voltage used numerous times, but it was a fine line between reanimation and lighting the cadaver on fire.

  Perhaps she had been looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps creating a person out of dissected body parts was the better option. But then it would no longer be reanimating someone into a second life but creating a wholly new life all together. She drummed her fingers on a steel operating table. Did she dare? Should she even contemplate playing at God? Never mind that she hardly believed such a being existed. Still, there were ethical aspects to creating a new life out of the dead.

  It was so tempting, though, to be so close to her ultimate goal and yet so far. She walked back to where she'd left her notepad and began going back over calculations and experiment notes. All while thoughts of what it would take to create this new creature floated through her mind, distracting her from any thought of handsome vampire detectives.

  *~*~*

  When the note came the next morning, Gert almost ignored it. She had spent most of the night awake, pacing her sitting room mulling over this new possible avenue of research. Perhaps she should simply focus on that and let Vi get on with the investigation by herself.

  Meet me at Washington Market at 8:00 pm sharp.

  The note read, she set it aside with a small frown as she reached for her teacup. Part of her didn't want to go and give Vi the satisfaction of continuing with whatever game she was playing. On the other hand, she was curious about what Vi planned on doing at a vegetable market.

  Washington Market, usually filled with shoppers and vendors, was all but deserted at night, but at least it made Vi easy to spot. She stood leaning next to the doorway of a butcher's shop, smoking a cigarette. Stopping some distance away, Gert watching the white smoke curl around Vi's pale face. The rest of Vi, in another dove grey suit, blended against dark grey stone and shadow.

  "You're late." Vi flicked her cigarette away.

  "By three minutes." Gert checked her pocket watch to confirm it.

  Vi looked as if she was going to say something else but stopped herself and shook her head. "I'm surprised you're here at all." She turned back to the butcher's shop and knocked on the door.

  The shop was dark and no one answered, so Vi rapped on the door again. There was finally movement in the shop, and then the sound of the door being unlocked.

  "You should have come around back." The man who pulled open the door was huge, with a barrel chest and meaty arms. His head was shaved smooth, but his eyebrows were completely grey, betraying his age, and his voice was a deep, rumbling bass. He was dressed only in his shirt and waistcoat, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows displaying massive forearms. There were some dark markings on his neck, tattoos like convicts had, but in intricate swirling, knotting patterns that disappeared under the collar of his shirt. "Anyone can see you if you stand in the street."

  "I was waiting for a friend," Vi said and pushed her shoulder against the door as he made to close it. "I'm here to buy, Carr, so let us in."

  The man paused, studied them for a long minute, and then grunted, letting go of the door and standing back.

  The inside of the butcher's shop was dark. Through the gloom a counter displaying smaller cuts could be made out along with the whole pig carcasses hanging from hooks on the other side of the shop. Carr led the way into the back, pushing open a wooden door that led into a large open room filled with rows of meat hanging from hooks in the ceiling. The stench of blood was heavy in the room. To their left was another door that Carr unlocked and pushed open. This room was set up like an office with a desk, a chair, and a safe against the wall. Without a word, Carr rounded the desk and sank to one knee, and Gert heard the click of the safe being unlocked.

  "What do you want?" Carr straightened back up, holding a wooden box, and put it on the desk.

  "Professor Henry says you have the Macarri whistle," Vi said, and Carr's bushy eyebrows went up.

  "You do know what happened to the last man to own it?"

  Vi only smiled and held out her hand. Carr unlocked the box. It looked as if it was filled with a jumble of small trinkets: a pendant, a small figurine, a hand mirror. Carr pulled out a small whistle that looked to be carved from bone. It was as long as a human finger and carved all over with intricate patterns that looked like flowers, but she doubted they actually were.

  "Lovely." Vi turned it over in her hand. "And your payment. How much do you want for it?"

  Carr made a noise in his throat halfway between a laugh and a tsk. "Not money, De Luca; same as last time."

  Vi frowned but then reached into her overcoat and pulled out a glass vial containing a dark liquid, which looked suspiciously like blood. She handed it to Carr, who shook it and held it up to the one oil lamp burning on the corner of the desk before grunting.

  "May I ask who buys these from you?" Vi watched him as he tucked the vial away in the pocket of his waistcoat.

  "I don't disclose my customers' names." Carr snapped the lid of the box closed and locked it again before turning back to the safe.

  "No, I suppose you don't." Vi turned away as well. "Until next time."

  Carr didn't answer, and Vi led the way out of the shop.

  "We'll have to walk a block or so to find a cab." Vi glanced at her pocket watch. They began to walk down the darkened street in silence, Gert mind was still focused on the transaction that had just taken place. For years she had been searching for the occult black market. She had known it existed from rumors and stories most people brushed off as urban legend but hadn't been able for form any reliable contacts. Until now.

  "I want to apologize," Vi said finally as they rounded a corner. "I was harsh yesterday, more than I intended, I think. You have trusted me a great deal. I should be more respectful of that."

  "Yes." Gert said dragging her mind back from thoughts of what supplies she could buy with connections to this particular underground. She would deal with that later. For now, she looked straight ahead, not up at Vi. "You should. I am an adult I make my own decisions in life."

  "I know that." Vi's tone was harsh almost frustrated, glaring at the ground. "You are just…" She let out a long breath. "Different than what I had expected, certainly."

  "You don't need to be protect me from anything," Gert said, hating that she had to spell it out even as the idea that Vi would protect her at all would have been a foreign concept a week ago. "Not even you."

  Vi stopped, hands in her pockets, and silent for a long moment.

  "Maybe," she said after a pause. "Maybe I don't."

  "The way I left you in a fit of temper was childish," Vi's acknowledgement was making her irritation slip away and she offered a small smile. "And for that, I also apologize."

  They were standing close together. The brim of Vi's top hat partly shadowed her eyes, making it hard for Gert to tell what she was thinking. "The world I come from does not have a great deal of gentleness or caring. There is a level of cruelty and harshness which is expected, and I am grateful that you are not a part of that, nor afraid to call me out on it." She reached forward, fingers ghosting across the side of Gert's face, touching her lower lip. "Your bravery is a gift."

  "I..." This was totally different now, irritation melting away to be replaced by something else, more than just lust. Wanting suddenly to press close, wanting to touch just for the sake of touching.

  A couple staggering out of the shop cut off whatever she would have said. The sound of hooves on cobbled stone signaled a cab coming down the street. Vi stepped out smoothly to hail it.

  The cab came to a halt beside them and Vi pulled open the door.

  "Will you r
ide with me?" Once seated inside the carriage she turned to look back at Vi.

  Vi shook her head. "I think not. You are too much of a temptation, my dear. I believe a walk will be better for the both of us."

  Something hot settled low in Gert's stomach. She might not have liked the way Vi handled business sometimes, but the fact that she wanted her was undeniable. She licked her lips, watching the way Vi's eyes followed the movement.

  "Are you sure?"

  Faster than a human could move, Vi was halfway in the carriage and very, very close. Close enough to feel Vi's breath ghost against her lips. "Are you making me an offer, Dr. Bower? Because your business is not yet complete."

  "Maybe I am." Vi's lips were very close; would they be warm, or as cool as the rest of Vi?

  "We're on the street." Vi's gaze was firmly on Gert's lips, though. "People are watching. I wouldn't want to be inappropriate."

  "This close to me," so close in fact but still not close enough, "you're already far from what is considered acceptable for polite company."

  Vi's eyes darkened, and for a moment it seemed as though Vi would get into the carriage with her.

  Vi's fingers traced across Gert's bottom lip so that she could taste the soft leather of Vi's gloves. She bit down carefully at Vi's fingertips, the leather taste becoming stronger on her tongue as she did so. Vi hissed and pressed forward, her other hand coming up to clamp around Gert's jaw, holding her in place with surprising force.

  "You need to go home and get some sleep," Vi finally said, voice distinctly rougher than before. "I will be in touch about the final stages of this case soon." Vi leaned forward still bringing them even closer together. She wondered just how scandalous they must look like to the passersby and flushed hotter at the very idea. "When our business is done, I will have you." There was a growl behind the words, and a promise.

  Then Vi pulled away, stepping back onto the pavement, and shut the door of the carriage.

  After watching from the window of the cab until Vi was out of sight she collapsed back against the seat. Her face was hot, and her breathing uneven.

 

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