A Key, An Egg, An Unfortunate Remark

by Harry Connolly

  “Told you: renfield,” the man said, his voice surprisingly deep.

  “No,” Nora said. “She’s something else.”

  The man cocked his revolver.

  Albert, feeling increasingly jumpy about facing off with armed unfriendlies, shifted his stance as though about to scoop his aunt up and sprint through the gate with her. Marley froze him in place with a glance. Then she turned back to Nora. “I’m going to offer the people inside the house the same deal I’m offering you, right now. You can stay in Seattle and live in peace, or you can go home. I don’t allow murder in my city.”

  The big man leaned forward. “That thing in there can’t be murdered. It’s already dead.”

  If he expected Marley to be intimidated but he was disappointed. “She can talk and think, Nelson. She can laugh and cry. I’d say that was good evidence of life. It’s true that she has problems—“

  “Problems!” the little blonde spat out. All three spoke with southern accents.

  “But we don’t execute people for that.”

  “She must be senile,” the little blonde said.

  “There’s no need to be rude, Audrey.”

  Audrey’s blue eyes were flat. “If you’ve heard of me, you should know what I do to people like you.”

  “I haven’t heard of you,” Marley said. “But I can see you.”

  The big man turned to Nora. “Why are we talking to her? Why don’t we just—“

  Nora looked over Marley and Albert’s shoulder toward the house. “It’s already too late.”

  Everyone glanced up at the house. Kenneth stared wide-eyed at them through a parted curtain, then hurried back out of sight.

  Marley heard a rustle and a heavy thump behind her. She turned to see that Albert had taken Nelson to the ground. The katana lay in the grass and Nelson’s heavy revolver was in Albert’s left hand, barrel pressed just behind Nelson’s left ear.

  “Albert!” She exclaimed. “You let that young man up!”

  “Yeah, Albert,” the blond woman said, aiming her crossbow at him. “Let him up.”

  Albert felt strangely calm now that he was holding a weapon again. After so much disconcerting strangeness, being armed felt like returning to a safe place, even if that safety was an illusion. He gave Audrey a cool look. “You shoot me with that crossbow and I’ll break it over your head.”

  “We need to go,” Nora said. She had her shotgun trained on Albert but wasn’t enthusiastic about it.

  Audrey licked her lips. “I think I can—“

  “They know we’re here!” Nora interrupted. “Without the element of surprise, we have to pull back. You know it!” She lowered her weapon. “Let him go, Albert. I’m only going to ask once.”

  “Yes, Albert,” Marley said. “Immediately.”

  Albert shrugged and stepped back. Nelson rolled to his feet, katana back in hand. Albert kept the pistol aimed at him.

  Nora grabbed Nelson’s elbow and pulled him away, but she was watching Marley. “Ma’am, I was raised to respect my elders,” she said, “so I’m not going to say what I’m thinking right now. But a thing just like the one in there killed my cousin. Maybe you don’t know this, but when those things hunt, it’s often a black man or woman that turns up missing the next day. If you think I’m going to walk away from that creature, you’re mistaken.”

  She stepped back into the bushes, disappearing into the darkness. Nelson and Audrey did the same.

  Marley glared up at her nephew. “Never again, Albert.”

  “He was creeping up on us!”

  “Albert!” She yanked the revolver from his hand and threw it into the bushes.

  “Aw.”

  But his aunt didn’t want to hear it. “Never. Again. Now turn around.” Marley moved her arms away from her body. “Show your empty hands.”

  Albert did as he was told just as the back door swung open. Kenneth lunged through, a double-barreled shotgun in his hands.

  “We’re unarmed!” Marley yelled.

  “You’re trespassing!”

  “I came here to return your license and registration—you dropped them, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Kenneth said. He moved to touch his pocket, presumably to search his wallet, then thought better of it and returned his hand to his weapon. “Who are those people you were talking to?”

  “I assumed they were guests of yours. I heard voices in the back yard and thought it might be you, so I went around the side to say hello. May we come in? I have your ID here in my pocket and I’d like to have a visit with your mistress. I suspect she and I have much to talk about.”

  Kenneth stood in the doorway, biting his lip for a moment, then waved them forward with the barrel of his shotgun. He’d learned to never, ever invite strangers into the house unless they were desperate for a private feeding place, but this woman had appeared inside his car. Better to invite her than let her force her way in whenever she wanted. Besides: “She wants to speak to you, too.”

  In a low voice, Marley said: “Be nice, Albert.”

  Albert hurried forward, putting himself between his aunt and the gun. “I want to give my notice,” he said.

  “Oh, very funny,” Marley said. “Although you’d still have lasted longer on the job than some.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Misery of Being Ageless and Unchanging

  They went inside, with Kenneth leading them through the house as he backed up. The kitchen had been painted landlord white years ago but never touched up since, and the cabinet doors were dingy and crooked. Except for a single dirty dish, fork and glass in the sink, it looked like it was still waiting for renters to move in. Kenneth backed them into the empty dining room, the bare wooden floors creaking under their feet, and nodded his head toward the front room.

  The living room was small but comfortable: It had even been decorated. The furniture was sparse, just two chairs and one loveseat, but they were covered with red velvet. Between them sat a black maple coffee table with six silver candlesticks all messy with melted wax. The black velvet drapes were too long for the windows, but they had rarely fit any of the homes where they had been hung.

  In all, everything had an intentionally gloomy look about it and an unintentionally shabby one. Kenneth gestured toward the loveseat. Marley thanked him and sat, placing the license and registration on the coffee table. Albert stood beside her.

  Kenneth went into the dining room and opened a wooden door that creaked like an old time radio sound effect. There was nothing beyond it but a set of stairs leading down into darkness. They heard the heavy clump of approaching footsteps and soon, Kenneth’s “mistress” swept into the room.

  She was dressed all in black leather, with high heels, heavy eyeliner and teased, dyed black hair. She entered with full confidence, utterly in command of the room and herself. Perhaps she was not quite as tall and slender as the vampires at the rest home, and perhaps her wide, catlike eyes and broad mouth were less pronounced, but she was as beautiful as any airbrushed magazine model. “You must be Marley Jacobs.” Her voice was low and seductive. “Please call me Spire.”

  “Wonderful!” Marley said with complete sincerity. “I’ve never heard that name before. How original.”

  Spire eased herself into the larger of the two velvet chairs as though it was a throne. Kenneth started toward the other chair, but noticing Albert was on his feet, stood behind Spire. He held the barrel of the shotgun so it covered both Marley and Albert at once, but was knowledgeable enough to understand trigger discipline.

  Albert began to breathe heavily. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and he struggled to hold himself still. A man with a gun could make a situation turn bad very quickly, well before his aunt could explain what she wanted in detail. He tried to convince himself that she knew what she was doing, but he had the sneaking suspicion that he’d survived Afghanistan just to die in Seattle.

  Spire seemed amused by them. “You realize the risk you take by coming here, don’t yo
u? I know you fancy yourself ‘Protector of Seattle’ but should you really have come here, to the center of my power, before I’ve even fed for the night?”

  Marley was as calm and friendly as if they were sitting in a crowded cafe. “Oh, vampires don’t have centers of power. Stop teasing. And, considering my role as protector of this city, as you call it, I feel it’s important to visit notable new residents.”

  Spire leaned forward with a predator’s smile. “Do you really think you can protect this city from someone like me?”

  “Protect the city from you? Oh, darling, I don’t think you understand. I’m here to protect you.”

  Spire laughed. “Is. That. So.”

  “I’m not here to threaten you, dear. Far from it. I’m here to welcome you to my city, and to help you live a long and comfortable life.”

  Spire turned to Kenneth with a chilly smile on her face. “She’s here to welcome me,” she told him, and gestured for him to sit. He did, but he didn’t put away the shotgun. “How kind of you, Marley. But I don’t need any help from you. I’ve already lived a long and comfortable life.”

  “Have you?”

  “Of course.”

  “How old are you, dear?”

  “I’ll be three hundred thirty-five next Halloween.”

  “What a wonderful day for a birthday! But you can’t lie to me, dear.”

  Spire’s amused expression vanished. “What did you just say?” Her voice was low and dangerous. Kenneth leaned forward, laying his finger over the trigger.

  “Spire, I just told you that you can’t lie to me. No one can. How old were you when you were turned? Eighteen?”

  The vampire watched Marley through narrowed eyes. “Nineteen.”

  “Ah. And judging by the changes to your face and form, I’d say it happened, what, twenty-four years ago? Twenty-five?” Spire glanced away. “Dear, you aren’t even as old as I am. But you are reaching a dangerous stage for vampires. You need to live a secret life, yes, but you are becoming more beautiful every day. More graceful, more perfect. I’ll bet you already attract a lot of attention. The last place you lived... Where was that?”

  Kenneth was so startled to hear his thoughts mirrored in Marley’s words that he blurted out the answer: “Minneapolis.”

  “Thank you, Kenneth. Minneapolis. I’m sure you had reached a point where too many people knew who you were, even if they didn’t realize what you were. You couldn’t slip away anonymously from a crowded place with a victim because everyone was watching you. It became difficult, yes?”

  Spire’s self-assured smile had returned, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “I’m a careful predator.”

  “How careful can you be if every head turns when you enter a room? I’m sure you know that vampire hunters have already started to recognize you.”

  “Maybe you should pay a visit to the hunters, then.”

  Marley sat back and folded her hands on her lap. “I just did, dear, in your back yard.”

  Kenneth leapt out of his chair, nearly dropping his weapon. “What?” He ran to the front window to peek through the curtains. He moved to the next window, then the next.

  Spire stirred in her seat, watching Kenneth uncertainly. For the first time, she looked unsure what to do.

  “Don’t worry.” Marley said. “I sent them away. Come back, Kenneth, it’s safe enough for now, come back.” He did, warily. He still held tight to his shotgun, but it was now aimed at the ceiling. “If they don’t take my advice, they’ll get a visit from the police. Personally, I consider vampire hunters murderers, and I don’t believe in solving problems with murder.” Marley sighed. She looked completely composed, even as Spire became more agitated. “Our problem is, everyone is a potential hunter. When all mortal eyes turn toward you, it’s only a matter of time before someone realizes what you are. There’s no avoiding it, Spire.

  “They stake out your home at night,” Marley continued, “to make sure. To convince themselves. They come for you in the early morning hours. They usually start by shooting your helper,” Marley nodded at Kenneth, “although sometimes they stab or beat them to death. Then they stake you in your coffin and drag you into the sun. And often, they record the whole thing on camcorders and post it on the internet.”

  Spire’s perfect brow furrowed ever so slightly. “They do what?”

  “They post it online,” Marley said. “Usually it’s because they want to expose the Secret Vampire Threat to the world, or some such foolishness. Sometimes they do it because people record themselves doing everything nowadays. The ones who wear masks and post anonymously are slightly harder to catch, but most don’t bother. Surely you’ve seen the videos?”

  Spire shot an accusing look at Kenneth, as though he had been hiding something from her. He said: “I’ve shown them to you.” There was nothing defensive in his tone. He merely sounded tired.

  “Of course he has, dear. Don’t blame him. Let me demonstrate something.” She took her phone from her pocket and held it up. “Do you know what this is?”

  Spire stared at it blankly, then looked away and waved one long hand dismissively. “Of course I do. You’re wasting my time.”

  “Oh Spire, haven’t I told you that you can’t lie to me? This is my telephone. Kenneth has one, too. Show her, dear.”

  Kenneth reluctantly took out his phone and held it in his palm. Spire looked as though she thought he’d conspired against her.

  “Spire, when Kenneth called you about us tonight, did you think he was using a pay phone? Because there are very few pay phones any more. They’ve all been taken out. And do you see that plastic case over there?” Marley pointed to a small end table with a closed laptop on it. “That’s a modern computer. That’s probably how Kenneth showed you those hunter videos I was telling you about.”

  “Shut up,” Spire said. “You shut up.”

  “I can’t do that, dear. Even if you were very careful with your feeding and never killed your victims, you would give yourself away. Best case scenario: you’d end up loaded into a U-Haul truck like luggage—again—fleeing across the country. Maybe you’d get a visit from the police. Worst case scenario: hunters break into the house while you’re sleeping. Your life is not the only one that needs to be protected, it’s Kenneth’s, too. And let’s not forget about the lives of those hunters who, in their ignorance and fear, take matters into their own hands. The ones who survive often spend the rest of their lives in prison.”

  Spire couldn’t bear to hear another word. She lunged forward. Marley’s hand flashed to the pocket of her jacket. In one motion, she hooked her thumb into the opening and pulled it wide.

  Warm orange light shone out of the gap. Spire screamed in agony and terror, then fell back, hands in front of her face. She collapsed into her chair and curled up in the fetal position.

  After that scream, Albert expected the vampire to be burned or scarred by the light, but her beautiful face was still flawless.

  Kenneth rushed to check on her. “You’re okay,” he said, reassuring himself as much as her. She let him lower her hands. “You’re okay.”

  Spire didn’t respond to him. Turning slowly back in her seat, her hands gripped the arm rests so tightly her knuckles were white. Her voice was tight with fear and rage. To Marley, she said: “You’re nothing! You’re an old woman. The world is finished with you, but here you are, daring to... I should kill you.”

  “No!” Kenneth said. “No, Spire, love, listen to her.”

  Spire spun toward him, shocked. Before either of them could speak, Marley started talking again.

  “Yes, dear. Listen to me. Do you know the life expectancy of a vampire ‘in the wild’? Sixty years, if you include the time before they turned. That’s all. And you’re almost 55.”

  “Sixty? I don’t believe you.

  “The world is getting increasingly difficult to manage, isn’t it? Do you know who the president is, dear? Because it’s not Ronald Reagan.”

  “Hah! I know it’s his vice-presid
ent, George Bush!”

  Kenneth looked at the floor, embarrassed.

  Marley’s expression became sympathetic, and her voice was gentle. “No, dear, not for more than twenty years. I’m willing to bet that it’s becoming harder and harder to cover for these little slips, and they’re becoming more noticeable. Isn’t that right, Kenneth?”

  Kenneth’s voice was glum. “Yes.”

  “Ken!” Spire looked frightened and betrayed. “Ken, don’t!”

  Kenneth turned to Marley. “Every time I show her a video on YouTube, she’s surprised and delighted. She calls fifteen-year-old music ‘the new thing.’ Some things she can remember, but when I tell her who’s president, or the latest with gay marriage, or… She forgets so much when she sleeps.”

  “It’s getting hard on you, isn’t it, Kenneth?”

  “I’m afraid for her,” he said, speaking louder than he intended. “At first we could laugh it off, like she was joking, but Vice-President Bush? How do I explain that away? I want to keep her safe, but I can’t just lock her away from the world.”

  “Because you love her.”

  “Yes,” he said. His eyes brimmed with tears. “Always.”

  Marley turned back to Spire. “Do you see him, dear? Doesn’t he look tired? He’s aging, too. Haven’t you offered to turn him and make him young forever like you?”

  “Yes!” Spire said, her voice raw, vulnerable and honest, “but he’s worried about us. He says we can’t find a daylight servant to keep us safe.”

  “Oh, Spire, please. As beautiful as you are, in your fantastic clothes, you couldn’t find a pretty young thing to watch over you in exchange for the promise of eternal life? How absurd!

  “The truth is—and I’m sorry, Kenneth, for putting you in a difficult position—that he doesn’t want to be a vampire. He has realized it’s a curse to be ageless and unchanging. To him, you’ve become a beautiful invalid, and he’s exhausted from taking care of you.”

  Kenneth sniffled, then stood suddenly and went into the other room. He set the shotgun on a table by the window then began to weep quietly. No one spoke for a moment.