by R. E. Carr
“You aren’t here to turn us over to Arthur?” Paige asked incredulously.
The Jaeger shrugged. “Not today,” he said pleasantly, now smiling. He gave them both a little nod before strolling toward the brilliant patio. “Oh, please be warned that the Arce grounds extend from the docks to the vineyards and to the town of Chievorno. If you step one foot beyond those borders, our hospitality will no longer protect you. Tuscany may be a sanctuary for now, but I doubt the other hunters will let you back in if you leave. Consider yourself . . . warned,” he said before taking a stroll into the light.
“Paige, what is going on?” Maria asked.
“That is the one vampire who can kill other vampires with impunity. He also hates Lorcan,” Paige hissed. “This is worse than I thought.”
Her leg buckled and she had to grab onto her mother to stay upright. At Maria’s questioning look, Paige sighed slightly. “I was hurt pretty badly, Mom. I’ve only been able to really walk for a couple days,” she admitted reluctantly. “Yeah, and it was a Jaeger who stabbed me in the back, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t trust them.”
“But Grandpa Steve is—” Maria started.
“Well, Steve and his dad aren’t like the rest of the family,” Paige said with a wince, as she limped back to the group. Nadia and Kayleigh had stopped eating and stared at Paige in concern. Paige put on her best brave smile.
“Yeah, the Jaeger is here,” Paige said a little too quickly. “I knew it was too good to be true, when we got here without too much trouble. Come on, let’s eat up, rest up, and figure out what the hell is going on.”
Paige had no sooner gnawed into her ham when another pair of familiar scents wafted into the kitchen. She let out a deep sigh as a pair of blonds were escorted into the kitchen carrying bags from the village pharmacy. The male of the pair stopped cold as he saw the whole pig, his stomach growling audibly, while the female blonde turned green at the exposed bones and rent flesh.
“Morgan!” Maria said as she recognized the young man. She looked over to Paige. An awkward silence fell over the kitchen.
Morgan shuffled uncomfortably to an empty stool. He handed a bag to Pablo. “Um, I got everything you requested, sir,” he said softly. He sniffed the air and bristled. He made a point to look straight past Paige and instead focused on Maria. “Nice to see you again, Ms. DeMarco.”
The group watched as Morgan calmly snagged the other front leg of the pig. He then proceeded to take a knife and fork and neatly carve little cubes of meat to line up on his plate – taking care to wipe his hand and any drops on the counter. Maria kept a close eye on the seething Paige.
“You still eat like a fastidious toddler,” Maria blurted out. Paige, Kayleigh, and Nadia all stifled a giggle, while the one blonde girl tried her best to not breathe in the overwhelming porky aroma. Paige finally noticed her partner in nausea and gave her a sympathetic look.
“You OK, Georgia?” Paige asked the blonde.
“Dumb question,” Georgia snapped. She pulled a box out of her shopping and tossed it to Nadia. “They had ultraviolet for you.”
Georgia then slipped another pharmacy bag to Kayleigh and one to Paige, careful not to let the contents be seen by the men in the room. She gave a tiny nod to both women. “I got everything on the list. Now, if you would excuse me, I just can’t deal with a whole pig being ripped apart by werewolves. Oh, please let the ginger giant know that they did not have Red Bull, but I got him a can of espresso and earplugs for the rest of us.”
“Georgia,” Paige said weakly, but the other girl had already turned tail and retreated into the halls. Paige turned to glare at Morgan, who refused to even look at Paige. “Morgan, she did not look well.”
“What do you expect? It’s been a rough few weeks,” he said flatly, between bites. He kept his eyes firmly focused on the lovely cabinetry rather than Paige. “It’s been a rough week for all of us, hasn’t it, Mrs. Darcy - or is it Mrs. Pendragon? I never found out.”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to go dye my hair,” Nadia said. She made sure to polish off the last pig ear before servants escorted her to destinations unknown. Paige could just hear “Save me a leg,” in the distance.
Kayleigh ripped off leg three and tossed it on a plate of pasta. “Yeah, I need to feed bro and give him his new burner. Talk to ya soon!”
Paige gave her mother a pleading look, but Pablo the pool boy stepped in. “You know, we can always show your daughter the west gardens,” he offered. “Whenever you—”
“Fresh air sounds great!” Paige said quickly. “Let me just run this to my room.”
She shuffled past the passive Morgan, growling as he continued his methodical munching. “Be right back,” she called as she moved as fast as her weak legs would take her. Instead of stopping in her bedroom, she continued straight to the bathroom and pulled out the parcel from Georgia. She took a deep breath as she pulled out a little white box with Italian and English writing. “You think your week has been bad?” she asked with a bitter laugh, as she yanked open the box with the pregnancy test.
2
“They tell you to dress for the job you want, not the job you have,” Georgia Sutherland sighed, as she stared at the pile of hair at her feet. “Well, I’m thinking . . . defiant revolutionary mixed with twenty-first century emo chick.”
She ran her neon blue gloves through the remains of her hair, now nearly a Mohawk thanks to a pair of borrowed clippers. Frowning at the mess on the tiles, she vowed under her breath to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning – even as her stomach growled. Georgia glanced back at the mirror and grinned wickedly at her dramatically different appearance.
“Bet a tenth century vampire king would just hate this,” she said, her smile growing wider. Before she could descend into maniacal laughter, there was a timid knock on her bedroom door.
“Just a minute,” she cried as she frantically slapped a shower cap over her hair and flipped her gloves into the sink. She tried her best not to stumble over her bags and the new combat boots littering her carpet, but ended up crashing into the door with a magnificent thud.
“Miss Sutherland?” an Italian voice asked in alarm.
“That’s me,” Georgia said triumphantly, opening the door to find a small collection of servants waiting in the hall. Georgia smiled weakly. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean it up,” she promised as the local crew peeked inside. The servant in front widened her eyes in abject horror.
“Oh no, no, no!” their leader exclaimed. “You will do no such thing. You are our guest. Giuseppe, Louis, get to work.”
Before Georgia could so much as squeak in protest the two men rushed into the room, moved her shopping to the dresser and began sweeping and scrubbing the marble in the en-suite. The woman in the lead took Georgia by the hand and escorted her to the vanity. Georgia gasped at her solo reflection in the mirror. The servant smiled.
“Everyone calls me Nonna Estella,” the servant said sweetly. “I thought I would rise early to tend to you. I’ve been asked to be your servant for as long as you are our guest, Miss Sutherland.”
“My . . . servant?”
Estella clapped her hands and the door whisked open. Georgia’s eyes widened at the tableau of fruit, cheese, salad, and pasta on a little wheeled cart. Nary a hunk of meat tarnished the beautiful spread. The vampire slid Georgia’s gloves off while the man pushed the cart next to Georgia, then draped another tablecloth on the floor. Georgia panicked for a moment, until her vampire attendant whipped out a comb and pair of scissors from a drawer. Georgia experienced the supreme joy of stuffing her face with Italian food while Estella neatened and evened out a brand-new style for the exhausted girl.
“The master tells me that you saved the life of the Pendragon heir, as well as bravely helped Lorcan Darcy escape Pendragon castle. You are a hero to us all,” Estella said. Georgia simply stared, dumbfounded, as her hair had a mind of its own in the mirror.
“Hero? I thought—”
“The Beast, I m
ean Klaus, has a longstanding . . . disagreement with the current Lord Pendragon,” Estella explained. “It was his honor to host you and your friends.”
“I guess Arthur really is an asshole,” Georgia muttered before gulping down water. Estella turned the vanity seat so that Georgia could focus on her meal rather than her makeover.
The vampire then leaned around and gave a consoling look to Georgia. “I have heard that all men in power have a tendency to be arrogant,” Estella reassured diplomatically. “Truth be told, I thought King Arthur was just a legend, and that the prophecy that he would return to lead us all was, well, pure scempiaggine- but then again, I do serve the Beast and should know better.” She fell silent for a moment as she trimmed a few stray wisps of hair at the back of Georgia’s neck. “Has Geoffrey ever mentioned Paris . . . or me?”
Georgia blinked a few times. “Um, he never explicitly mentioned it, but, to be fair, he was dreadfully sick.”
Estella’s face fell slightly. She gave a wistful sigh and stared off into space.
“Tell me, did he ever show you the wonders he could do with his tongue?” the vampire asked.
“Um, our relationship was purely . . . professional,” Georgia said, gulping. “But his mom did tell me all about his education in France.”
Estella smiled. She leaned in and whispered in Georgia’s ear. “Good, I like to hear that Geoffrey still doesn’t have a weakness for blondes.”
The next few minutes went by quietly as Georgia finally ate a decent meal and Estella worked magic on the human’s hair. Once Georgia was sufficiently sated, the vampire motioned toward the now sparkling bathroom and the two handsome attendants.
“Now it’s time to rinse. Giuseppe and Louis will attend to anything you need, while I neaten this up with Phillipe. Please take your time and then I’ll be happy to blow you out,” Estella said. “I’ve also taken the liberty of getting you fresh clothes. I hope they are to your liking.”
Georgia hurried to the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later rather damp. Estella raised a brow at the two burly, fully-clothed gents who shrugged. The vampire made a dismissing motion and all the men left the room in a flurry.
“Were they not to your liking?” Estella asked.
Georgia let out a deep sigh. “They were fine, I’m just not looking,” she said.
“Oh, I have usually found that women of your generation like a bit more casual contact after a breakup. I apologize for assuming too much,” Estella said with a taut smile. She whipped out a blow-dryer and cranked it up before Georgia could really respond.
After a few last snips and a judicious spritz of hairspray, Georgia was spun around to see her new look. She stared out from under a shelf of faintly aqua bangs, a slight wave in her hair now that it was properly coiffed. “This will do, thank you,” she said appreciatively as she noticed how neatly clipped the shaved side of her head now was. Nonna Estella promptly shooed her toward the closet, where a dazzling array of T-shirts, jeans, and boots had been laid out for Georgia to peruse.
“How—?” Georgia stammered.
“I forced the young master to tell us your preferences while you were asleep. I must admit, I wasn’t entirely certain that he was discussing a woman when he mentioned your style, but the times have certainly changed from when I was last around the young. I’m sorry, but we couldn’t do much about the dress you arrived in,” Estella sighed.
“You can burn it for all I care,” Georgia muttered as she picked up a genuine Boston Red Sox T-shirt in an Italian vampire stronghold. Estella beamed.
“The master is actually quite the fan of your cursed team. He has always been fond of lost causes,” Estella explained. “It is a bone of contention between himself and his son.”
“Klaus is a Sox fan? I knew he was decent.”
The vampire slipped from the enormous closet, giving Georgia time to pick out and change into a full ensemble. By the time she emerged, no trace of blue hair lingered on the floor, and the handsome entourage had vacated. Only Estella remained, her hands clasped in front of her waist and a nervous look on her face.
Georgia’s stomach turned the moment she stepped back into her bedroom. Estella mouthed, I’m sorry, before stepping aside to reveal another, far older vampire, also dressed all in black.
“Seriously?” Georgia muttered as she found herself face to face with the Jaeger himself. The gaunt, dark-haired vampire gave a single flick of his wrist and Estella bolted. The Jaeger smiled blandly.
“It is good to see you again, Miss Sutherland,” he said softly, in his faintly Scandinavian voice. “I see that your appearance may have changed, but your manners have not.”
Georgia remained deathly quiet. The Jaeger motioned for her to sit. She thought about it for a second, before meekly perching on the edge of her bed. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Georgia finally dared to look into his cold, pale eyes.
“What do you want?” she simply asked. The vampire gave her a bemused look. Georgia pressed slightly with, “One of us isn’t going to live forever, so I might as well be blunt.”
The Jaeger broke into a chuckle. “I can see why the Pendragon like you.” His face then immediately morphed into his normal, cold, calculated stoicism. “I am not like the Pendragon. They have made a point to insult me and to steal from me on repeated occasions. This must be answered.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t work for them anymore . . .” Georgia muttered.
“Yes, I was made aware of your breaking of that contract,” he said flatly. He stared past Georgia, as if something on the wall was infinitely more fascinating than her. “And now you are here, in my domain.”
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“It is my domain. I don’t need a reason.”
Georgia took a deep breath and somehow fought the urge to roll her eyes. The Jaeger finally met her gaze again. “How did you know we’d come here?” Georgia asked, once she had his attention.
“Where else would you go with a dying vampire, and a glut of humanity’s most stubborn fallacy – hope?”
“We’ve cycled all the way back to the ‘what do you want’ question. How many times is this gonna have to keep happening?” Georgia snapped.
The Jaeger’s lips tightened. Georgia could see his fangs, but he definitely wasn’t smiling. Georgia continued to stare at the vampire, dead-eyed. He raised a brow.
“You aren’t the one suffering from the misguided hope, are you?” he asked.
“Nope, that ship has sailed,” Georgia said softly. “I’m just along for the ride now.”
“Intressant,” he muttered. He leaned in, amused, and gesturing as if they were having the most casual of conversations. “I must admit that we have not spent much time together, but I have seen countless hordes of people, Georgia Sutherland. Most of them make zero impression as I pass them by, but you, you are a rare commodity. You . . . are different. Now, it might just be your rather freakish resistance to our abilities, but something about you is odd, and odd is precious. My daughter waited for nearly thirty years for a unique servant, and the Pendragon stole him. I am now stealing one from them.”
Georgia flinched slightly, but said nothing. The vampire continued.
“You are going to sign a new contract, Miss Sutherland, one with the Jaeger family. You will belong to us now.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” she said flatly. “It doesn’t matter. Arthur has forgotten about me. Your . . . say, what is Steve to you anyway? Well, Steve made sure of that.”
“You made an impression on more than Arthur. The ginger . . . Mina . . . even the disgraced Lorcan seem obsessed with you, for the gods-know-what reason, and now you will belong to me.”
“You can’t—”
“It is simple. Your father is a bondsman. You have bondsman friends. I have the resources to have them all blacklisted. They won’t survive for long. Is that not enough? My sources say you aren’t as close to your adoptive parents, but I can hunt them as well. How far must this song and
dance really go, Miss Sutherland?”
“This is all vampires do, isn’t it? Just one long string of threats after another? I’d ask if you cared about ruining the lives of so many people, but I know you don’t,” Georgia remarked sadly. Her breath quickened, but she somehow kept her voice even. “I should have guessed your pride—”
“Do you really think this is all about pride, Miss Sutherland?” The Jaeger asked. “You should have realized that the moment we discovered you were immune to our gifts that you would never be free. If I were a kind man, I would simply put you out of your misery here and now, but we both know that I am anything but kind. You are still useful, and for that, you shall serve.”
Georgia finally looked away. Her hair fell over her eyes. “There is never really a choice, is there?” she asked softly.
“No,” the Jaeger said, pacing around Georgia like the predator he was. “I merely need to decide who you will serve.” He crouched in front of her, displaying the tips of his fangs again. “Perhaps I should simply keep you for myself?”
Georgia gulped. The Jaeger pushed her hair aside ever so gently. “However,” the vampire continued, “the Beast had an idea that was even more deliciously insulting.”
3
“You know when I said ‘take me to Detroit’, I was butchering a Kentucky Fried Movie quote, right?” Gail Filipovic asked, as she surveyed an overgrown Arts and Crafts style home. The porch light flickered as she slipped out of her car. Her companion remained inside, grabbing a handful of grocery bags while Gail fumbled with her keys and the front door.
“As if you have anything to be afraid of, mi amor,” her companion, Javier Diego Azeri-Gorri Etxeberria de Azarola, shuffled up the path behind her - his old sneakers crunching on the gravel. “It’s not so bad, no?”
“No, it is definitely not so bad,” Gail said, beaming as she breathed in the homey aroma of old wooden floors, leather furniture, and pine cleaner. She grabbed a few of the bags and gave Javier a quick kiss on the cheek, his scratchy stubble tickling her nose. Before she could pull away, he snatched her by the waist and turned the friendly peck into a decidedly more passionate kiss.