Avalon Revamped

by O. M. Grey

  “Upstairs,” Arthur said, pointing. He removed his gloves, hat, and overcoat, leaving them all lying on the table near the front door.

  Avalon had started to shiver.

  “Cold?” I asked, wishing I could manifest more clothes for her as I did for myself.

  “Yes, now that I’m cooling down from the run, my body is remembering that it’s, in fact, quite freezing out there.” Her teeth chattered, but Arthur turned from her, as cold as he was dead.

  “Pity you moved out, then.” He didn’t look at her, but rather set his jaw and puffed out his chest in his arrogance. “Library. Now.”

  He took the steps two at a time and Avalon and I followed. “Just through there,” she said, pointing. “I’ll be right back down.” She continued up to the third story and I went into Arthur’s Library.

  He plopped the bag full of weapons on the edge of a burgundy chaise before moving to the far side of his impressive library. Avalon had not exaggerated. Sumptuous like the rest of his house, the room was full of bookshelves made from dark, fine wood. Books overflowed from each shelf, some sitting on the tops of others in many places, but it was far from chaos. There was an order to it all. The shelves reached to the ceiling, lined the walls, and there was even self-standing bookshelves in the middle of the room. Arthur climbed up to the third step of a wooden ladder set on a track and pulled himself along the shelves, taking a book from here and there before tossing them down onto the nearest leather sofa or chair.

  “Collect those, would you? We’ll work over there,” he said, pointing to a table set in the center of two leather sofas as a sort of conversation area. “Get the bag of weapons, too.”

  “I got them,” Avalon said, entering, dressed in what I assumed was Arthur’s clothes. Fine black trousers, a white, high-collared shirt, and a brocade waistcoat. A black cravat and her sable curls framed her heart-shaped face.

  Arthur chuckled, shaking his head from side to side. “That’s my Ava,” he said.

  He leapt down from the fourth step and swept Avalon up into his arms, kissing her. Her hands changed from defensive, against his chest trying to push him away, to wrapped around his neck halfway through the kiss.

  “Now,” he said, pulling back from her. “To work.” He jumped over the back of one of the sofa’s and landed in the corner, arms and legs crossed.

  “To work,” she repeated, breathless, then walked around and sat near him.

  “I’m surprised the cold affects you, Avalon,” I said. “As a vampire. Arthur didn’t seem affected by it.” No. Little affect at all, actually.

  “I’m still young in this new life, but over time it shall cease to do so.” Her rosy cheeks held a glow about them, no doubt from the kiss. Poor girl.

  “These are quite old, Arthur. Impressive collection.” I gathered the books he had strewn about and placed them neatly in the middle of the table. “Although, I wouldn’t toss them about like that. They are rather fragile at this age, unlike us.”

  “Books, Connie. They’re books. I once had a deep reverence for books, too, but, then I figured, they’re just books. There were so many other things more important than books.”

  “Like what?” I challenged.

  “This is not a game of wits and I have no interest in entering this debate with you. Of course the information therein is quite valuable, but why would it matter if a spine is cracked or no? The information remains the same. Besides, they’re unharmed.”

  “Yes. Finely made, as is everything in your home, Arthur.” I took the top book that looked as old as me. I ran my hand over the cloth cover, even the leather corners had worn through. Barely readable, the title had little of its original gold leaf in the letters. It read: DAEMONS.

  “I like my luxury. Will you chide me for that, too, she-beast? Are we here to prattle or to work?”

  “Demons,” Avalon interrupted. “What do we know about Demons?”

  “Um. They come from hell?” Arthur’s tone had returned to complete condescension toward Avalon again. Loving one moment, patronizing the next. Affectionate one moment, withdrawn the next. How maddening, indeed.

  “Yes. They come from hell,” she said, then moved to the chair adjacent to both couches, alone. Likely, how she felt safe at the moment, and I couldn’t blame her there. She sunk back between the arms and curled her legs beneath her. “What else do we know?” she asked, directing her question at me.

  “Many of these books look like religious doctrine and history, and I know from personal experience their information can be suspect at best and utterly self-serving, incorrect at worst. I don’t think an exorcism is the answer, but I just don’t know what is. As I said, I’ve never come across a demon before.”

  “Connie’s right there,” Arthur said. “Not a reliable resource, the church, but it’s a start. There is so much false information about vampires as well, even from those who have studied and experimented on them. Facts get diluted with belief and dogma and mythology. I’m sure it’s no different here.”

  “True,” Avalon said, “But remember, even though Victor’s research had many things wrong about vampirism, they did help us in the end with the hybrids. It is a start, as you said. Bear with me here. Demon. Hell. Which is the opposite of heaven, right?”

  “Yes, but those concepts are oversimplified, you understand,” I explained. “These are but other dimensions, not necessary what dogma dictates.”

  “Of course. Still, the holy water is worth a shot, as are the bullets,” Arthur said. “I agree that a priest and exorcism won’t do much good here. Certainly not alone, perhaps as a distraction or ally.”

  “That’s risky,” I said. “Putting an innocent in danger like that for something we’re not even sure about. Still, I agree, it will be best to take a multi-tiered approach, as we don’t know what will or won’t work.”

  “Agreed.” Arthur said, then leaned forward and grabbed a book. “So, crosses and holy water—“

  “—And wooden bullets!”

  “Yes, sweetheart, and wooden bullets, that much without reading, we’ve decided.”

  Thomas entered with a silver platter, a porcelain teapot and three cups with saucers. “Forgive me for the wait, M’Lord.” He was fully dressed and hair combed. Presentable and proud.

  “Not at all, Thomas. Just set it there,” Arthur said, distracted. “That will be all.”

  “Thank you, M’Lord.

  “So,” Arthur continued, “that much we’ve decided as a place to start, and those books won’t likely tell us anything else, but my darling insisted. She must have her way, after all.”

  “Please, Arthur.”

  Before they could start up again, I interrupted, “We have about four hours until dawn, so how about we read for a little and see if any other ideas come to mind, shall we?”

  “Yes, but—forgive me—“ Avalon said. “What about Polly? I mean, there are two issues here, correct? Stopping the demon, of course. But also protecting Polly—and everyone, of course—but we know she’s his next target. He might be headed there right now.”

  “Unlikely,” I said. “He’s going to want to draw this out, especially with someone as besotted as Polly. I’ve known many like him in my time, but this monster has a true demon working with him. They will thrive off her pain, but her broken heart–broken soul–will be their icing. He’s regrouping and planning for now. Going to her in the middle of the night would be too suspect. I’d say we have until sunrise.”

  “All right, but what then? How can we protect her?”

  “Kidnap her.” Arthur said. “Next?”

  “I’d rather not cause any more fear or horror, if necessary, Arthur. There is just too much already,” Avalon said.

  “Have you got a better idea?”

  “I do,” I said. “You’ve seen what I can do for yourself. I’ll just appear to her as Jeffries. She trusts him. We can convince her to go with us if he’s there, too.”

  “Splendid idea!” Avalon said.

  “If i
t works. Won’t she know the difference?”

  “I’m very good at what I do.”

  “And then what?” Arthur asked. “Wouldn’t she be the bait? If we take her out of the equation, then how will we know when and where to find Jeffries? Besides, if she’s missing, he’ll know the game is afoot, and we don’t want him anymore aware of trouble than he already is.”

  “True. We want him to think he’s so much more powerful and intelligent than we are. Which, shouldn’t pose a problem. He already thinks he’s more powerful and intelligent than anyone else. After all, he’s the smartest, most perfect and interesting fellow that has ever existed! In his demented eyes, at least, so that’s easy enough.”

  “He is rather arrogant, isn’t he?” Avalon said. “I mean, I’ve known some creeps in my time, but this salesman tops them all. Indeed.”

  “Indeed,” I said. “You don’t know the half of it. I’ve been tracking him for months. Astounding. More so that I didn’t sense something off, sense the evil behind the evil. Or, that it didn’t sense me. Its power, too, not an issue until the castration and breakdown of form, then it emerged. That must mean the demon is both protected and hindered by Jeffries’ flesh, by his form.”

  “There’s a part of him not protected by form anymore,” Avalon said. Her hands slid between her trousered legs, protecting herself from idea of the revolting blue phallus.

  “Yes. I suspect that is our first attack, his most vulnerable and prized part. The holy water. It’s worth a shot, quite literally, but you’ll have to be precise, Arthur. It’s huge, in one aspect, but still a narrow target, relative to his overall form.”

  “His cock, you mean? Yes, you had mentioned. Leave it to me.”

  “Hopefully that will weaken him enough for the second wave of attack, which we may have to improvise unless we find something very useful in the next few hours.”

  “How will we get him…exposed, as it were? And you still haven’t answered my question. What to do once we have Polly? Where do we bring her? Here? That braying ass! I don’t want her to know where I live or anywhere near this finery.”

  “Arthur, please.” Avalon’s shame was quite apparent and understandable.

  “What?”

  “We’ll think of something, Connie.” Avalon’s kind tone made me quite sad for her. I looked forward to freeing her tomorrow night, if I survived the incubus. “A hotel, perhaps. Please, continue.”

  “Thank you,” I said to Avalon, giving Arthur an altogether unpleasant glance. “To answer your other question, your highness, isn’t it obvious? I will impersonate Polly. Remember, he can’t sense me behind Jeffries’ skin. Exposing his vulnerability won’t be an issue, as we already know what he’s planning. We just don’t know when or where.”

  “We’ll stay close,” Avalon said, seeing the worry on my brow. “In fact, there is an apparatus I’ve used before where we can hear what’s happening, even from a distance.”

  “Yes!” Arthur said, “But it’s back at yours. Didn’t think of that.”

  “How can you do that?” I asked.

  “Another device Victor invented. He was a genius, after all,” Avalon said.

  “Yes. Yes. He was perfect. Continuing…” Arthur spat.

  “You wear one part over your ear, the other down your sleeve. That’s the part where you can talk back to us,” Avalon said in an excited tone, eyes lighting up.

  “This new technology is quite astounding, Avalon. The problem is that when it matters most, I shan’t have a sleeve nor another stitch covering me.”

  “Too true.”

  Arthur perked up at this. “Nothing? You’ll be wearing nothing?”

  “How else do you think I’ll be able to expose him, Arthur? We will be likely in the middle of things, as it were, and knowing Jeffries, he’ll want to make it last. He finds the buildup quite important, after all. Otherwise, it sounds like a remarkable bit of technology, but I’m afraid you will have to stay even closer. I don’t know where he’ll take me or when, but my guess would be his home. He does like to be in control, after all. This is his masterpiece, not just one of the others he’s violated, mutilated, and discarded in the past weeks. This is his pet, and he will want to savor it along with his new weapon of mutilation. How he must be salivating at the thought of it.”

  My lip curled into a scowl of disgust. The sooner we destroyed this man and the demon within, the better.

  “Now, read,” I ordered. “Just in case there is anything that could help when we’re in the thick of it, but I fear we are in unchartered territory here. It will take all our supernatural strength combined to destroy him. Once the demon is gone, Jeffries is mine.”

  I was taking a holiday after this.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ARTHUR

  “Are you sure you can pull this off?” This plan seemed altogether too far-fetched to work. “These two know each other too well, even someone as vapid as Polly Pooter will be able to tell the difference.”

  “I told you, I can take any form, although it’s usually female. This will work. Trust me,” the she-demon said.

  “I’ll never trust a demon,” I said, scoffing.

  “I told you, vampire, between us, I’m not the demon.”

  I raised a finger to scold her, put the woman in her place, but then I remembered what she did to protruding body parts and retracted it.

  Avalon came between us, “Enough. Both of you.”—Then, pointing.—“It’s just around here.”

  “How do you know where she lives, Ava?”

  “I followed them home from their show one night. The night we met, Constance. Remember? I fed off him, Arthur.” She confessed, then added. “Now, don’t chide me for it. I will take care of myself, thank you very much. I have done so most of my life. You are not my keeper. Nor shall you ever be, Arthur Tudor. You did this to me, and I need blood to survive and to thrive, so I figured I’d take it from someone deserving, just in case I couldn’t wipe their memory properly. Turns out, I did it quite well on my own. Didn’t I, Constance?”

  “I was very impressed.”

  Great. They’d teamed up against me. I just couldn’t win. Women.

  “Jeffries brought Polly home first before going off to meet with you, Constance,” Avalon continued. “She hung on him as if her very life depended on his presence, but he rather coldly pushed her away and patted her on the head. You’re right about one thing, Arthur. The man treats her like a pet dog, not like a friend and certainly not like a former lover.”

  She lowered her voice as we approached the imp’s window.

  In her one-room flat, Polly’s tiny body slept curled around a photograph of her and Jeffries. No kitchen or indoor plumbing. It just had a wash basin on a dresser. He did keep her in poverty, and by the looks of his clothes, he made decent money. Scoundrel.

  She looked even older as she slept, nearly as old as the crone she played in the street show. Her long brown curls fanned out over the pillow and her face sagged, a crumpling of skin and more skin. She had no doubt had a rough life, and if anything this she-demon said was true, then part of it had to do with this chap Jeffries. Listening to the witch talk for hours about the abuses of men on the gentler sex and what these abuses did to them over time really started to get me thinking about how I’d treated women.

  It had been a week of self-reflection. How exhausting.

  I, of course, was beyond reproach, I had decided. I mean, I loved every woman I wooed and bedded. In my own way, anyway. They knew what they were getting into, after all. Plus, I wiped their memories, or killed them. No traumatic after effects there.

  Could Avalon be feeling this kind of pain? What about Emily Bainbridge? Certainly not Emily. She knew she was a just a romp. She seduced me after all, didn’t she? No. Not her. What about Chastity? Surely things were all too new with her for her to be truly hurt. No. I was just fine.

  Beyond reproach.

  I reached for the knob, ready to break in, but the she-demon stopped me. “W
ait,” she said. “Let me go to her first. We don’t want her to scream.”

  I was about to tell her that, whether she or I went in, it would frighten the woman, but there were ways to muffle screams. I was, after all, rather an expert at it, but before I could say any of that, her body started stretching before me. Her jaw changed shape. Her nose elongated. Her hair shortened. Her clothes changed. Aghast, I watched the she-demon turn into Roderick Jeffries.

  She really could do it. I didn’t believe she could until now. If I hadn’t seen the transformation myself, I would’ve sworn on my long damned life that it was the snake-oil salesman standing before me.

  “What—how—?” I stammered.

  “She does that,” Avalon said with a smile in her voice. “Remarkable woman, don’t you find?”

  “Now,” the she-demon-Jeffries said, and even her voice was his. Not deep. No, his voice was quite weaselly, and now, so was hers. “What are you waiting for?”

  I shook myself out of my stunned stupor and turned the door handle, breaking the lock with ease. By the time the door was open, Polly had been stirred awake and she looked up at Jeffries half-conscious then over to us, but she didn’t care we were there. Her world was there. Her eyes went back to Jeffries. “Rod! Oh, my love! You’ve come back to me, haven’t you? After all this time. I knew if I was patient enough, you’d return to my bed. I love you, Roddy. I love you with all my heart.” She jumped up into his arms, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

  “That was easy,” Avalon whispered to me.

  I felt nothing but pity for this little spaniel. Her entire world was that man. He was her sun, her moon, the air she breathed, and he just kept her around for the adoration, never intending to offer any true love back to her. It was beyond cruel. Even by my standards.

  “Polly,” the she-devil-Jeffries said. “I want you to go with these people, all right? I’ll be along presently.”

  “Then we can be together again, Roddy? Then you will take me to heaven again? Oh, how I’ve missed you, Roddy. Oh! Roddy!” She kissed him all over the face, not allowing him to push her away, and the she-demon-Jeffries tried. “My body aches for you. Every night. Empty without you. Fill me up, again, Roddy! Oh, please! Say you’ll come back to my bed! Please, Roddy! Oh, please!”