A Vampire's Bohemian

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Don’t I have a say?”

  “Of course not.” She blinked at me. “You think about Orpheus sometimes, don’t you?”

  “Not like that.”

  Her smile oozed with an easy charm, taunting me.

  No, there was no truth in what she was intimating. Was there?

  “I was worried about you,” I said quickly. “We never got the chance to speak after you left the Athenaeum.”

  “I’m sorry for leaving you there.”

  “Oh, Anaïs, that wasn’t your fault.”

  “I let you down.”

  “Orpheus can be very persuasive.”

  She gave a thin smile, but it quickly faded.

  I glanced over at her couch. “That’s nice.”

  “Beatrice bought it for me.” She gestured to it. “Take a seat and I’ll pour you a scotch.”

  “No, thank you. I’m not staying.”

  “I have Dalmore 64 Trinitas.”

  I frowned, stunned that she knew what I liked to drink.

  “I have visitors who drink booze,” she said. “Mortal friends.”

  “Do they know you’re a vampire?”

  “Course not.”

  “You live here with Beatrice?”

  “Yes.” She strolled over to the marble mantle piece and picked up a silver frame. She smiled fondly at it and brought it back to show me.

  I took it from her and sat on the couch, studying the photograph. In it, Anaïs wore an elegant short black dress. She’d flung her arm around Beatrice, who didn’t look a day over twenty. The girl’s smile was captivating. The moment reflected happier times. Remembering that other photo of her captured in chains was hauntingly painful.

  “She looks angelic,” I said.

  Thoughts formed just out of reach but didn’t rise to the surface of my consciousness, as though answers lay deep within the recesses of my mind, promising to come together and form facts. My mind revisited the evidence room filled with Hauville’s personal belongings: boxes of folders, private letters, and a few stuffed animals. All of it now catalogued. All of it useless.

  Anaïs leaned forward and rested her index finger right between my eyes. “In here lies the answers.”

  “I’ve been assured everything is being done to find her.”

  “By Dominion?” Anaïs nodded in response to her question.

  “Jadeon has reassured me he has his best men on it. You have to trust him.”

  “Right.”

  “What is it?”

  Her lips curled into a sinister smile. “I saw the footage filmed through the fox. It’s rather interesting. Places you right at the scene, Ingrid. In Hauville’s secret room before the warrant was served.”

  My throat tightened and I held her stare.

  “Something like that would ruin a career,” she said.

  “Anaïs, what are you saying?”

  “I’m worried about Beatrice. I’m a wreck. I can’t think straight enough to find her.”

  Yet Anaïs looked flawless, unchanged from the day she’d been turned, with no sign of strain showing any of the turmoil she was going through.

  I reached for her hand to comfort her.

  Anaïs pulled back. “Orpheus will give you the footage filmed of you in exchange for your cooperation.”

  “Orpheus has always had my full attention.” I sat up straighter. “He’s the one who kept information from me, remember?”

  “This case is going nowhere.”

  “Orpheus never mentioned this.”

  “Well he is now. Through me.”

  “Jadeon wants to handle it.” I hated losing control of where this was heading.

  “You’re handling it now,” she said, rising from the sofa and heading off toward the glass fronted bar on the other side of the room. She poured a large scotch into a tumbler and brought it back to me.

  With a shaking hand, I took it from her with no intention of drinking it. Jadeon hadn’t mentioned anything about footage filmed of me. I wondered if Orpheus had kept it from him too.

  Anaïs pointed to the frame resting on the couch beside me. “You’re going to find Beatrice, or Orpheus will send that footage of you to Scotland Yard.”

  In a daze, I took a sip. The liquor burned my throat.

  “Your mind has all that evidence in there waiting to rise to the surface,” she said.

  “Blue illuminate?” I said faintly. “You’re going to force me to drink it?”

  “I’m offering it to you. See it as a solution to your problem.”

  I pulled back the tumbler and stared at it in horror.

  “It’s scotch, Ingrid. I don’t keep the spell here.”

  I set the glass down on the side table. “Orpheus would never go against Jadeon’s wishes.”

  “They merely use each other.”

  It didn’t make any sense. Jadeon had insisted he could find Beatrice, and Orpheus had convinced me they were working together. Jadeon had warned me of the danger I’d put myself in if I pursued any kind of contact with the underworld, yet here I was with Anaïs, and right now I wished I’d heeded his warning.

  Hesitating, I tried to read the truth in her threat. “This is a bad idea, Anaïs.”

  “Having your mind open up so you can connect the dots and find Beatrice is the only option left.”

  “Let me think about it.” I rose to go. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Ingrid, Ingrid, Ingrid,” she used my name in a threatening chant.

  I froze, my glare fixed on her.

  “Orpheus doesn’t negotiate,” she said.

  “I have to go home.”

  “Sure, right after we take a trip.” She set off across the room and picked up a set of car keys on the table.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Redruth’s Carn Brea Castle had a magnificent view of the ocean.

  Atop a hill, this grand landmark rose elegantly out of the ground. The fact that its brickwork had stood the test of time was a testament to the craftsman who had built it back in the medieval era.

  We had arrived just after 9 P.M., with Anaïs driving the Viper hard. Had I not been in a stunned silence and lacking sleep, I might have been able to enjoy the passing countryside. I had a soft spot for Cornwall. My happiest memories of spending time with Jadeon occurred here on the west coast of England. It was known by many as God’s country for its varied coastline, golden sandy beaches, and sprawling moors.

  Anaïs led me inside the castle with a confident stride, which was an indication she knew this place well. She walked with verve, every sure step proving she was on a mission and nothing was going to stop her.

  Within minutes, we settled in a sitting room. Cream colored couches faced each other and large arm chairs were positioned here and there for ease of conversation. Large rugs were strewn upon the floors and paintings showcased other Cornish landmarks, hanging low on the thick walls, designed to keep in the heat. All very homey, very welcoming.

  Still, I didn’t want to be here.

  Letting out a deep, steadying breath, I peered out of the arched window from the castle’s uppermost floor and watched children playing on the grassy bank below. “This is a school?”

  Anaïs joined me and peered out. “Orphanage.”

  Ten or so teenage boys ran the full length of the green lush lawn, kicking around a ball and avoiding the boulders clustered left of the castle. Beyond, a long fence ran the length of the cliff overlooking the ocean. Unruly waves rolled in the distance. A storm brewed out there too.

  “How many of those children try to climb that fence?” I said, half in a daze.

  Anaïs shrugged.

  “Do any of them ever run away?”

  “They wouldn’t.”

  “Are they strict here?”

  “They’re well looked after. They’re loved, which is not always the case in places like this.”

  I turned to her. “What are we doing here?” />
  “You’ll see.” Anaïs kept her focus on the garden. “Try to see it from my point of view.”

  “I’ve been warned that if I don’t withdraw my interest in the underworld—”

  “Find Beatrice. That’s all we’re asking of you.”

  “We, being you and Orpheus?”

  “I’m doing you a favor. You want to solve this case as much as I do.”

  The door opened and a thirty-something redhead strolled in. “Anaïs, it’s a pleasure seeing you again,” the woman said. “You’ve brought a friend.”

  The woman’s green eyes were mesmerizing, though not iridescent, and were all the more emphasized by her tan. A true Celt if ever I saw one. Despite her petite frame, she held the confident air of a woman in authority. Her snappy blue suit made me wonder if she was the governess. One thing I was sure of, she was mortal.

  “Mirabelle, this is Ingrid,” Anaïs said.

  Mirabelle smiled. “Any friend of Orpheus is a friend of ours.”

  “Is this Orpheus’ place?” I asked.

  Mirabelle looked surprised. “He knows you’re here, right?”

  “Of course,” Anaïs said, not missing a beat. “Mirabelle’s the headmistress.” She turned to her. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

  Mirabelle lowered her head in fake scorn. “No need to be so formal.”

  They chatted away, catching up on time lost since they’d last seen each other.

  The idea that Orpheus had anything to do with an orphanage was startling and more than a little disturbing. I made a mental note to ask him just what kind of involvement he had here.

  Mirabelle didn’t radiate anything sinister. For these children’s sake, I hoped my radar was right.

  A cool breeze blew in through the window. I loved Cornwall, yet this visit was altogether different. I wondered how far St. Michael’s Mount was from here. I hoped Jadeon would burst through the door at any moment and save me from this, whatever this was. A supposed jaunt to imbibe some concoction Anaïs called blue illuminate. My thoughts drifted to how Jadeon would react when he found out that Orpheus was coercing me into something so unpleasant. So unknown. So dangerous.

  “The entire faculty ensures the children feel at home,” Mirabelle said, turning her attention on me. “Loved.”

  “Is this a Catholic school?” I said.

  Mirabelle twisted her mouth. “Goodness, no, my darling. Wiccan.”

  “Oh.” I tried to hide my surprise.

  Mirabelle nudged up closer. “The children are brought up to respect God, nature, and each other. They are taught that they are world citizens. The lines that divide humanity such as religion and politics are studied so they better understand the world they are born into.”

  “Can they have a religion?” I asked, “I mean other than Wiccan?”

  “Of course. That’s Jonathan.” She pointed to one of the children kicking a ball around.

  The neatly dressed teenager stopped in his tracks when he saw Mirabelle at the window. He waved up at her.

  She waved back. “His parent’s died in a car accident when he was six. Despite there being a will, other members of his family refused to take him. Jonathan’s a darling boy. We’re delighted to have him here with us at Carn Brea. His parents were devout Catholics, and as such we honor his parents’ wishes and he is taught Catholicism.”

  “Does he go to Mass?” I said.

  Mirabelle’s eyes twinkled. “Jonathan’s an altar boy.” She headed over to the two beige couches facing each other. “Let’s sit.”

  I joined her, taking a seat next to Anaïs.

  Mirabelle sat on the couch opposite ours and kicked off her shoes, bringing her feet up bedside her. “Tea is on its way up.” She smiled her approval. “So how do you two know each other?”

  “Ingrid’s helping me find Beatrice,” Anaïs said.

  “You mentioned that in your call.” Mirabelle peered over at me. “We can’t quite believe this has happened. Beatrice is a sweet, sweet girl.” She looked over at Anaïs. “How are you doing? You two are so close.”

  “I’m holding up.” Anaïs returned her focus to me. “Ingrid’s promised to find her.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Mirabelle said. “The more people we can get on this the better.”

  I wondered if Anaïs had mentioned to her that I was a policewoman. I decided it was best not to say anything about it until I’d felt Mirabelle out a little more.

  “How do you know each other?” I asked, looking from Mirabelle to Anaïs.

  “I lived here for a short time,” Anaïs said. “Before I became a Gothica.”

  “We did try to set her on a traditional path,” Mirabella said. “Anaïs has always been strong willed.”

  “Orpheus bought you here?” I asked Anaïs.

  “After he found me begging in Convent Garden,” she said. “Still, I didn’t stay long. It’s too quiet here and I wanted to be near Orpheus.”

  Mirabelle shrugged in confirmation of Anaïs’ explanation. “We couldn’t persuade her to stay. We were quite proud of her when she became a Gothica. It felt like such a natural pathway for her. Her destiny.” Mirabelle looked upon her with affection.

  “We’re kind of against the clock,” Anaïs said.

  Mirabelle’s eyebrows knitted together. “Ingrid knows what this entails?”

  “She does,” Anaïs told her.

  Nausea welled in my gut along with panic. Having no idea what any of this entailed, I hated Anaïs for saying I did. My glare shot to her.

  Mirabelle caught it. “Something wrong?”

  “Usual nerves,” Anaïs said, seemingly appeasing Mirabelle.

  The door opened and a teenage girl dressed in a grey school uniform entered carrying a tray. A teapot and cups balanced upon it. She carefully placed it on the table before us.

  “Thank you, Poppy,” Mirabelle said, leaning forward to pour tea into a cup. She added milk.

  I waited to see if she poured herself one. She did, confirming my suspicion that she was indeed mortal.

  I refused the cup she offered, too suspicious of what might be in the tea. “No, thank you.”

  “Of course not,” Mirabelle said. “You’re partial to more delicate tastes.”

  She thinks I’m a vampire?

  I sat forward, ready to correct her.

  “Mirabelle, thank you helping us tonight,” Anaïs said quickly.

  “Of course. It’s my pleasure.” Mirabelle flashed her a smile.

  The young girl headed for the door, glancing back to take one more look at Anaïs. How captivating Anaïs must have appeared with her rock star black leather pants and edgy T-shirt, along with her long black mane and heavy eyeliner that oozed rebellion. A seductive combination to an impressionable teenager of Poppy’s age.

  We waited for her to leave.

  “We perform a ceremony,” Anaïs said to me, offering a smile of reassurance. “It’s tradition.”

  “I’m sorry?” Though my expression was more what the fuck?

  Mirabella waved her hand to gesture it was nothing. “Our ancestors worshiped a vampire who protected them. We’re talking a couple of centuries back now, of course. Cornish witches have long been associated with vampires. I’m surprised you don’t know that being a vampire yourself, Ingrid.”

  I went to correct her. Surely she could see my irises weren’t luminescent? Unless she assumed I was wearing contacts.

  “Ingrid’s looking forward to this,” Anaïs interrupted again, her glare hinting I wasn’t meant to correct Mirabelle’s misconception.

  I offered a forced smile. “Blue illuminate, what’s in it?”

  “A few herbs,” Anaïs said.

  “And a drop of ancient blood,” Mirabelle said. “Amongst other things. You’ll find it a rather luxurious experience.”

  Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet and strolled over to the window, trying to compose myself. I regretted coming here and putting myself in this predicament. Regretted being
beholden to Anaïs and her crazy scheming. Beholden to Orpheus.

  “Give us a moment,” Anaïs said as she joined me by the window.

  Mirabelle rose. “Something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” Anaïs said. “Please, gather the others. We’ll meet you there.”

  Others?

  My stare shot to her and I wondered where the hell we were going now.

  Mirabelle hesitated, not missing my reaction, but then on Anaïs’ glare she conceded with a nod. “Very well.” She left the room.

  “Blood?” I snapped.

  “Thinking of backing out?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Very well,” Anaïs said calmly. “I’ll call Orpheus.” She went to leave.

  “Give me a moment.” My fingers gripped the window ledge. “Let’s discuss this rationally. I can investigate this case better without having my mind altered. You have to believe me.”

  “We’ve given you more than enough time to prove that,” she said.

  Hugging myself, I shook my head, not wanting to hear this. “I need more time.”

  “More time to mess up Beatrice’s life?” she snapped. “You’ve even turned your back on Jadeon.”

  “What? No, he’s the one—”

  “You think you’re better than everyone else.”

  “That’s not me.” Confusion muddied my thoughts. “What are you saying?”

  “How long has this case been on your desk? How can you live with yourself for failing so terribly?”

  “It’s being dealt with by another department. By Jadeon—”

  “You and I both know you’re the only one who can find her. You and no one else. Beatrice’s blood will be on your hands. Please, Ingrid, you have to step outside your comfort zone and do this.”

  I grabbed Anaïs’ arm. “Mirabelle thinks I’m a vampire.”

  “It doesn’t make any difference whether you are or not. Within the hour your brain will be firing off all cylinders. Your mind will be sharper than it’s ever been.”

  “You’re blackmailing me. It doesn’t exactly illicit trust.”

  “Seems to me you don’t have any choice.”

  “Where is it?” I said. “I want to look at it.”

  “They keep it under lock and key in the chapel. But you won’t be drinking it here.”