by Peter Dawes
“Why is that?” Robin asked, settling onto the edge of the closest bed.
“I do not believe they trust the Order, though she mostly claimed they preferred their privacy. I have a feeling they have some hidden animosity toward the humans for what happened to some of their own.” When Robin’s expression shifted to one of confusion, I sighed. “They have had several of their vampires murdered. Notably, people of position within their bloodline. Which, as an addendum...” I perked an eyebrow. “The older bloodline not only still exists, but has a monarchy.”
Robin smiled. “Some of the knowledge conferred to elders don’t only encompass myths about our origin, brother,” he said. “They’ve included things like the existence of our cousins. Though, normally we’re told to avoid them as much as they avoid us.”
“It would seem avoidance is no longer an option.”
“Yes, it would.” He glanced at Katerina, who looked at him as if aware his sights had settled on her. Whatever she sensed in the silent communication which took place, I gathered she had conveyed whatever Robin sought by the time he looked at me again. “Join me for a hunt,” he said, rising to a stand. Fetching his coat, he threaded his arms through the sleeves. “You can explain to me the rest of what you and our new benefactor discussed.”
“I have eaten already, but I do not mind accompanying you,” I said, likewise reaching for the coat I had forgotten when I ventured out earlier. Katerina flashed us both a wan smile when we strode past, then diligently went back to her magical pursuits afterward. I watched for a moment before joining Robin in the hallway. “What does she have up her sleeve?” I asked.
“She won’t tell me,” he responded, reaching inside his coat for his cap. He affixed it on top of his head while strolling toward the elevators with me. “I think she’s afraid to get our hopes up, but it’s made her feel useful for the time being.”
Nodding, I allowed silence to settle over us, throughout the duration of our exodus from the hotel and even then, until we had been outside for a short while. Robin prompted me to continue talking and I did, though something about describing Evie brought a series of strange images into my head. I pictured the hitch of her skirt as she sat, following the mental trek upward to the cut of her neckline. Shaking myself from those thoughts, I touched my wedding ring as if I needed a reminder of why this mission was so important.
Only, I had not forgotten. My soul still bore the hole left by her absence. The further we progressed into our hunt, however, the more conversation became difficult, something Robin failed to notice until he had lured a human into seclusion and commenced feeding on him. I focused on my brother as if fixated, flashes of Monica interspersing themselves with the few moments of lucidity in which I watched Robin. Lost memories of her luring her victim from the night club filtered through the black spaces usually formed when Flynn took control, filling my head with decadent imagery and digging into the bleeding wounds on my heart. I flinched when Robin touched my shoulder, faintly aware that I had lost the space of time in which he finished and crossed the distance between us.
He tilted his head, studying me, while I attempted to meet his gaze. At once, I felt drunk, not knowing if the sleep deprivation had gotten the better of me, or if I had become possessed by something more sinister. Everything about him stood out as much as Evie’s subtle gestures had. The slope of his nose and the shape of his lips. The way he examined me, and the small voice drifting from his thoughts, tempted despite himself by whatever he saw in my eyes. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and where there had been intrigue, concern took its place.
“You look hungry, Peter,” he said. “Might I advise feeding, even if you had something to drink earlier?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice a whisper. When he broke our gaze, it brought me to my senses enough for me to realize more foreign, discordant thoughts had gripped me in their throes again. My footing wavered and while I followed his suggestion, I failed to reference what had happened on our walk back to the hotel. Mercifully, Robin seemed as apt not to discuss it.
Something told me to sleep, warning me that whatever my baser instincts had started to demand would only get more difficult to ignore without my bearings. As I surrendered to rest, however, something reached for me, pulling me the rest of the way into unconsciousness. Opening my mouth to scream, I found my voice had been stolen from me, snatched to some other place. Whatever trap had snared me, the field of battle became apparent when she spoke.
“Come out, my devil,” she chimed. “Come out and play with me.”
Part Four
The Siren’s Song
“Her lips touched his brain as they touched his lips,
as though they were a vehicle of some vague speech
and between them he felt an unknown and timid pleasure,
darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odor.”
James Joyce
Chapter Thirteen
My head hurt as I waded back into coherence. As my lids fluttered open, the light pierced my eyes and forced them to shut. In the back of my mind, I heard a pained moan and even though my lips had produced it, it still sounded distant and disconnected. For a moment, I almost considered going back to sleep.
Something told me not to, however. A distant concept, akin to the paranoid thought that monsters lurked in the darkness, waiting to consume my soul. The thought both connected and drifted away, wafting in and out between other idle notions, such as the smell of Monica’s hair and the echo of her laughter. I wanted to reach out to her, sensing somehow that she might have tried to reach out to me. The dull thunder in my temples prevented me from even extending a hand.
I attempted to open my eyes again. The room looked blurry at first, my cheek pressed against my pillow with my hands clutching onto the sheets. Releasing the fistfuls of fabric I still clutched, I blinked a few times, lost for a moment inside white noise; not knowing myself and not remember where I had fallen asleep. It took a few seconds for the answers to replace the strange parade of discordant ideas which had come before them.
Peter. I felt like the seer. I had fallen asleep in London, in a hotel on the East End. Something else tickled at the back of my mind, but before I place it, my eyes focused on Robin and the faintest embers of recollection slipped away from me like a forgotten dream. Concentrating on my brother, I sighed with relief when the headache began to fade and my vision sharpened, returning to its normal vampire clarity.
He sat on the other bed in our room. The first thing I noticed was the way he frowned at me. Fully clothed and showered, with his hands folded on his lap, he eyed me with uncertainty until I furrowed my brow at him. “For once, I thought I might be the one who had to wake you,” Robin said.
“No, no. I am awake,” I said, though the actual words came out garbled and barely-audible. Pushing up from the bed, I crawled my way onto all fours before shifting into a seated position. The entire motion felt labored and while I could not determine the source of the aches afflicting me, a cursory examination of my hands and arms revealed nothing noteworthy. Chalking it off to some phantom affliction, only a small part of my mind warned I should be afraid of how dismissive I felt. “I think I need to feed, though.”
“Are you alright?”
“I think so. Hungry. That is all.” Lifting my hands to rub at my eyes, I peered around the room, a further effort to regain my bearings. “Where is Katerina?”
“In her room. She insisted she wanted to study.” Robin sighed, drawing my focus back to him. “I insisted she at least eat dinner first.”
“Good.” Expressing the sentiment felt distant and disconnected, and I issued it lacking any form of compassion. Removing the blankets covering me, I rose to a stand, passing Robin on my way to the closet. “No reason to be so concerned about everyone,” I said while extracting the suit I planned on wearing.
“I think I have every reason to be concerned. Thank you, though, for the noble attempt at dispelling my fears.” He peered up at m
e. I felt his eyes on me throughout my entire walk to the bathroom door, and dismissed it, disappearing inside and shutting the door before stripping what little I had worn to bed. Turning on the water for the shower, I walked through the routine of cleaning and dressing for the night. It was not until I finished dressing that I followed some vague urge to wipe the condensation from the mirror in front of me.
My eyes looked tired; my expression, dour. The paleness of my visage had me toeing the edge of preternatural, while firmly inhabiting the realm of sickly. I studied myself, not feeling hungry and yet, following another disconnected thought which told me I was famished. “A snack should be more than sufficient,” I said, and though I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth, nothing shown through in my reflection. Another excuse to get some fresh blood, I affirmed while walking out into the sleeping area.
Robin did nothing to stop me when I told him of my intentions. Once I had emerged from the hotel, I lit a cigarette and, after walking up to what I remembering being the main thoroughfare, I disappeared inside the small crowd of pedestrians looking for their own sustenance. Within an hour, I had a victim lured away from the watchful eye of anyone else, enthralled and still as I plunged my fangs inside of them. Slowly, the woman I held in my arms stilled and when I licked her wounds shut, she slid down onto the ground, looking sleepier than I suspected she should. Wiping the remnant of her blood from my mouth, I mused on her for a moment.
And again, something distracted me from considering it any further.
My phone rang. The fog lifted from my head again and I strode away from the body – the woman, I corrected – on the ground, feeling in my pocket for the mobile device. It chimed once more while I studied the number which flashed on my display, not recognizing it as belonging to Brandon Gillies. “Hello, this is Peter,” I said after hitting the button to accept the call.
The proper English woman who responded confirmed the call’s source. “Good evening, Peter,” Evie said. “I trust I didn’t wake you.”
“No, actually I went out for a walk.” Glancing around, I studied the collection of shops lining the street, looking around for a clock. “Though I have to confess I have no idea what time it is. I did not check when I left the hotel.”
“Half-past-seven. That little phone you’re holding, though, would tell you that.” Evie paused and as she spoke again, I heard bemusement. “You have truly been in seclusion for a decade. Where in the world did you manage to hide away from technology?”
“Costa Rica, first. Then, Venezuela. If anything like this existed, it did in San José or Caracas. I lived far from both.”
“The modern age has us all spoiled. While I can’t say I miss the days of living like that, I wonder at times if my job wasn’t easier before the Industrial Revolution.” She sighed. “Pleasantries aside, I have a busy night ahead of me. I’m calling to inform you that I have a lead for you to pursue.” In the silence which followed, I heard a clacking sound, realizing belatedly she was typing on a keyboard. “Ah yes, here it is,” she said. “Late last night, I received an email from the Duke of Vienna.” She paused again. “That’s an electronic mailing, sent over the Internet, if you’re not familiar with the vernacular.”
“I will take your word for it for the sake of expediency,” I said.
“This is why I like you, Peter. Now, members of his court claim they picked up on some unusual activity on the edge of the city, and have urged us to investigate. The signs they’ve given are consistent with previous visitations from your target.”
“What signs are these?” Another cigarette found its way between my lips, with my lighter pocketed while I considered her message. “And, at the risk of ruining the good favor I just earned, Vienna has a duke?”
“A fair question. I know I eluded toward our political structure without doing much to explain it. You see, we are divided into three branches: the monarchy, the aristocracy, and the Primael. The monarchs are the rulers of a kingdom and the aristocrats – like the Duke – are the overseers of municipalities within that kingdom. Normally, the larger the city, the more higher-ranking the aristocrat.”
“And you are not bound by any one location?”
“Clever boy. You’re catching on. I will say, though, that we are usually assigned areas. It keeps us from stepping all over each other’s toes.” More clacking filled the space between one comment and the next. “Normally, knowing these things matters more, because the aristocrats of an area prefer any foreign vampires check in with them, but since you’re being sent as our emissary, I’m doing that work for you. Will your brother and his pet be joining you?”
I drew from my cigarette, progressing closer to the hotel. “His p... Oh, Katerina. I do not know.”
“Inform me if she will, though I doubt the Duke will care. Now, as for the signs.” The clacking stopped. I heard her chair creak, this pause far more pensive in nature. “Signs, though.” I heard the frown in the way she chose to respond. “My position prevents me from revealing sensitive information, so I must be vague. But there is a specific shift in vampire-related incidents which accompanies these visitations. Almost like some capricious circus rolled through town, coming and going within a matter of days. While that sort of thing happens with your lot, the occurrences of this happening have increased and are usually marked by some form of incident.”
“What kind of incident happened in Vienna?”
“That is the sensitive part. I have an address for you, though, Peter. I would take me on faith.”
The way she spoke the words carried ominous overtones, as if she knew how little basis formed the foundation of such faith; how wary I should be given her secrecy. I had revealed a weakness to her, however, the night before, and while I had sensed it the moment it happened, here I saw it being played. Choosing to play along meant receiving something I so desperately wanted.
“I will examine the address,” I said, pausing my steps once I had come within the hotel’s vicinity. Drawing once more from my cigarette, I flicked it away and frowned. “If I find nothing that helps my end of things, however, then I will consider this arrangement one-sided.”
Evie chuckled, the sound mirthless. “And I will allow you to apologize when you discover that it isn’t.” Her tone immediately brightened. “As an added measure, you can inform your brother that if he doesn’t want to bring his girl with him, I would be happy to personally keep watch over her. Is that enough of a deposit, or should I pull out the checkbook?”
“No, I do not want payment,” I said, taking a steadying breath. “Though it begs the question as to why should we take a chance in trusting you with Katerina?”
“Take a chance on trusting me with her, or gamble with her being kidnapped or injured in case you find yourself in the middle of a battle. Either way, I’m attempting to help.”
Peering toward the window I assumed to belong to our room, I nodded. “Alright. I will present the offer to my brother. It would probably be for the best either way, so she can continue her studies.”
“There we are. Much less one-sided now, though I will still expect that apology. Please have everyone ready within the hour. I will have Richard come by to fetch you all. There’s a private jet waiting at London City Airport that will fly you to Vienna. When you land, I will have one of the Duke’s people waiting with a car rental and your hotel information.”
“We can be ready within the hour.”
“Good. It sounds like we have an arrangement.” Her chair squeaked again. I heard the clacking resume. “If there isn’t anything else to discuss, I have other calls to make. This is my personal mobile number, however. Call it when you finish in Vienna and I will make arrangements for your return.”
“Thank you, Evie. Good night.”
She hung up with no further ceremony. As I pocketed my phone, I continued to stare at the building in front of me, like pieces of a puzzle had been spread out and arranged for examination; a story being told in them. That lingering sensation of being wh
ite noise had continued past my waking and even though I knew myself, whatever numbness had started to creep over me left me apt to press forward without the burden of my feelings. A welcomed mercy, I determined while walking into the hotel and ascending to the floor where our room lay. Once inside, I informed Robin of my discussion with Evie.
He nodded once I had finished. “I appreciate her offer to care for Katerina,” he said. “And she’s right, it would probably be wise to keep her here. As I mentioned in Turin, Patrick wanted her for some reason.”
“Yes, and in the event he is anywhere near the area, it keeps him from snatching her up,” I said in response. Walking to the closet, I collected another suit and frowned at it being my last. “Perhaps something can be done about our clothing while we are away.”
“I will make arrangements. If worse comes to worse, buying another change of clothing wouldn’t be uncalled for.” When I failed to answer, he continued looking at me, much the same as he had before I showered at the beginning of the night. I only glanced up at him once while packing a suitcase, brow furrowed as I attempted to weigh what might be lingering in his thoughts. Only faintly aware that they were not simply drifting toward me, my telepathic powers mercifully silent.
“Is something the matter, brother?” I asked while folding a shirt.
“Nothing we can’t discuss later,” he offered with a strained smile. Before I could inquire any further, he rose and excused himself to fetch Katerina, telling me he would return once she had her things together to pack a bag as well. Shrugging, I returned to what I was doing, briefly considering a call to Brandon Gillies after retrieving my phone charger and dismissing it right away.
He could remain in the dark, I told myself.
For the time being, I had more important things to do.
None of which included giving myself any further evaluation. The doctor within me seemed content to chalk it off to duress, and even without a psychiatric degree, I knew the amount of emotional stress I had been carrying was enough for me to fray around the edges. While this made the ride to the airport quiet, I lingered longer on feeling of relief which should have been present, grateful – even if only clinically – that we had something else to do.