Iago Wick and the Vampire Queen

by Jennifer Rainey

  “We require neither your approval nor your understanding,” said the redheaded woman.

  “Ah. Of course. What will you do with your freedom?” Iago asked. “I have often pondered that question. What would I do if I turned my back on Hell and lived as I wished?”

  “We will have to teach ourselves to be free again,” Galloway said.

  “Finally free,” came the echo from the chorus.

  Locksley was just behind Galloway now, a large rock in his hand. His injured arm hung limply at his side. He prepared to strike as Galloway turned and knocked Locksley to the ground. The clerk cried out, and Iago saw his chance.

  How strange that he felt some slight twinge of pity. Still, self-preservation was the victor. Iago reached to the ground to retrieve the stake meant for Lady Eustacia’s heart and, while Galloway was turned, lodged the weapon firmly in the servant’s ear. It made a gruesome crunching noise and stuck sickeningly from the side of his head. He turned to blankly perceive Iago.

  In that moment, there was something like disappointment, the sting of failure in Galloway’s eyes. Iago felt it in his own black heart. Swaying, Galloway crumpled to the ground, and as Iago had predicted, so did the rest of them. Fifteen servants fell to their knees and tumbled, eyes still wide as they stared at nothing. Dante started to untie Lady Eustacia and remove the garlic from around her neck, the queen turning to survey her disobedient servants.

  Iago stooped down to look again into Galloway’s eyes. Empty. It was only a blank stare, and yet, he could not help but feel sorry for him.

  “What was all this?” Lady Eustacia asked. She swooned briefly, and Dante caught her.

  “He was speaking to them,” Iago said. “I assume all of your servants have parts of their brains removed and… enhanced. That’s how you subdue them, make them obey you. Through his mind, he was controlling them. Electromagnetic waves, perhaps. The need to be the master of one’s own life, one’s own fate, is not a light that is easily snuffed out.”

  There was a sudden gasp. Michael Locksley watched in horror a moment longer before scrambling to his feet. His shoulder was bleeding badly, and there was a wound on his head. Perhaps his collision with the ground had knocked a little sense into him. Without another word, he turned and ran. Moonlight picnics and Shakespeare were all well and good, but not even his blind devotion could withstand this level of peril.

  For a moment, Lady Eustacia made as though she might go after him. Still, the garlic and charms had made her weak, and she wrapped her arms around Dante’s slim waist.

  “Well,” Iago began and once again surveyed the glade, “we have quite a mess to clean up, don’t we?”

  Iago had never before seen a vampire come to make amends. They simply weren’t the sort. They had an inclination toward arriving, tearing apart the town and then leaving again, all fangs and black mist and comically unbridled lust.

  Dante was sitting in the parlor of 13 Darke Street and reading accounts of the sad story of The Miss Margaret when there was a knock upon the door. Iago answered and found Lady Eustacia Morgan upon the stoop outside. She gave her best attempt at a regal smile. “Well. Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked.

  Their protective Conjure had already been sent back to Hell. Iago hesitated, looked to Dante for affirmation, then allowed Lady Eustacia to enter.

  She did not wear her customary red, but an extravagant black dress and a veil of lace atop her head. “I am not completely uncooperative. I enlisted the help of a witch. The curse has been lifted from your room, Mr. Wick,” she said. “And I apologize for this… this feud.”

  “Hmm. I apologize for crossing you, Lady Eustacia,” Iago said with a grand bow. “I misjudged you. And have your children found Locksley?”

  “No,” she said as Iago led her to the parlor. “He vanished. I assure you, it is good for him. They would have torn him to pieces had they found him.”

  “And the servants?”

  “Of those who rebelled, all except Galloway are in the process of being repaired. As you hypothesized, he was controlling them. Radio waves, our mechanic says. I don’t really understand matters like that.”

  Iago only hummed as he took a seat on the settee. He offered Lady Eustacia a box. “Petit four?”

  She shook her head and sat in the chair beside him. “I don’t eat… cake.”

  “Ah. Yes. That’s right.” He took one for himself.

  She looked to her hands. “I loved him, Mr. Wick. Not Locksley. Roland Morgan, our king who perished and left me as the queen. I know I am ill-suited for this station. I have turned many, many men to vampires in the hopes that one of them will fill that hole that Roland left. They have not.” She held her head high. “I behaved poorly these past days, Mr. Wick, Mr. Lovelace. Pettily. Since becoming a vampire and, indeed, becoming Roland’s favored child, I am unaccustomed to not having my way. I apologize. I must be a better queen. For Roland.”

  “Did you think Locksley might replace him?” Dante asked.

  She laughed. “He was precious, wasn’t he? I don’t know what I was thinking. There are times I am made to feel my youth. Now is one of them.”

  “How old are you, Lady Eustacia?” Iago asked.

  She looked sheepish. “I was nineteen when I was turned four years ago. Roland died only eighteen months ago. I have created quite a harem for myself since then. Perhaps I should focus upon governing my family, not turning every eligible male I see.”

  Iago smiled. “You’ll be a fine queen.”

  “I hope,” she said.

  “All the same…” Iago began, and Lady Eustacia’s eyes narrowed. “The means by which you acquire your servants are… well, cruel. To take humans and to turn them into these amalgamations of man and machine is quite grim, really. I can’t say that I blame Galloway for rebelling.”

  She pursed her lips. “The Morgan family is the first in America to adopt Lord Julius Weiss’s technology. It is revolutionary.” It all sounded terribly rehearsed. Perhaps other vampires had challenged the Morgans in their adoption of Lord Julius’s practices. Then again, brainwashing humans and trailing them along with the promise of immortality was not terribly humane, either.

  “Perhaps,” Iago said.

  “Mr. Wick, I inherited this family. I did not decree that this is the way our servants should be acquired. This is simply how Roland commanded it be done,” she explained gravely.

  “This does not mean that you cannot change that,” Iago said.

  She held her head high, and her mouth turned in a frightening scowl. “You are a demon. You are hardly in a position of moral superiority.”

  Iago was quiet for a moment. He smiled. “You are correct.” He stood and bowed once more to kiss her on the hand. “My deepest apologies for questioning you, Your Majesty.”

  This assuaged her, and yet, Iago thought perhaps he saw remorse in her dark eyes. Lady Eustacia fiddled briefly with the black lace atop her head, gave a deep nod, and rose to her feet. “You are forgiven, Mr. Wick. I only wanted to thank you again before the family left Marlowe.”

  “Leaving soon?”

  “Tonight,” she said. “You might have noticed my dress. I have not worn it since Roland left me. Two of my children were killed last night at the hands of a vampire hunter.”

  Iago quirked a brow. “A vampire hunter? Here? In Marlowe?”

  “Yes. A man. Tall, blond. That is, unfortunately, all that the sole survivor of the attack relayed to me. Do you know him?”

  Iago shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I do.”

  “I suggest you keep a sharp eye out. Perhaps he dabbles in demon hunting, as well,” Lady Eustacia said.

  She left after thanking them once more, though her graveyard perfume lingered.

  Iago said, “Well, dear Dante, it appears I can go home now.”

  “A shame,” Dante said with a grin. “I love having you here with me. Montgomery is not good company.” He looked to the large stuffed vulture above the mantle.

 
; “Now, now. The Powers Below would deem our close quarters a distraction. We don’t want that,” Iago said.

  “No, I suppose we do not…” Dante trailed off, eyes focused upon a list of those who had purchased tickets for The Miss Margaret. Twenty-seven aboard. Ten confirmed dead. Ten injured. Seven missing and presumed dead. “Lucifer Below…”

  “What is it?”

  “He’s upon this list of those lost aboard The Miss Margaret. I didn’t see him, but I admittedly spent little time aboard the boat. Michael Locksley. Missing. Presumed dead.”

  Missing. Not dead. Iago felt it in his bones. The clerk was still alive, and he imagined he had escaped and wandered off to find the romantic adventure he thought he so sorely deserved. And perhaps with a ready tongue and an open heart, he would once again feel the passion he felt for Lady Eustacia Morgan.

  Iago walked to the window. He looked upon Marlowe, eerily beautiful in its late twilight glow. The vampire hunter was likely passing through, tracking the Morgan family. Still, Iago was a bit unsettled by the development.

  “Perhaps another soul collected under the name of Iago Wick on Hell’s ledgers,” Dante said. “I know you said you were nearing the end.”

  “The end?”

  “The end of your time as tempter. How long until they send you that letter?” Dante asked. There was a sadness in his voice which he could not conceal. Such a letter meant a promotion for Iago Wick. Such a promotion most likely meant a change of location. Dante Lovelace was miserable at hiding his disappointment.

  “Oh, I can’t say, my dear. Perhaps before the year is out.”

  Dante rose quietly to his feet like a cat and walked to Iago’s side. “Did you mean what you said?”

  “When? I do talk an awful lot, Mr. Lovelace.”

  “When you were speaking to the servants, you said you often thought of abandoning your duties to Hell, of what a life you would lead then,” Dante said. “Have you harbored such thoughts?”

  Iago looked onto the empty street for a moment more. Twilight was such a sweet and delicate thing, a bubble easily broken, a candle easily snuffed. He smiled, said, “Of course not, Dante,” and took his familiar place before the fire.

  About the Author

  Jennifer Rainey is a sometimes-writer, sometimes-folk singer from beautiful Central Ohio. When she’s not busy writing, you can probably find her perusing antique malls or watching classic horror films.

  If you liked this story, please don't forget to review! And be sure to check out The Last Temptations of Iago Wick, the first installment in The Lovelace & Wick Series.

  Learn more about Jennifer Rainey at www.JenniferRaineyAuthor.com

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