SNAP: The World Unfolds

by Michele Drier

  “Have you worked for the Baron long?” As a beginning, it stunk, but beyond being some weird damsel in distress, I hadn’t had much repartee with demons. This time his grunt was a true grunt.

  “We don’t exactly work for the Baron,” Sandor said. “Our families have pacts of non-aggression and friendship that go back centuries. I suppose in regular terms, we’re more allied tribes or vassals.”

  “Vassals? That kind of relationship went out with the dark ages.” I was stunned that he could describe himself in a way that I been taught was one step removed from slavery.

  “Well, our relations or pacts or whatever you want to call them, almost date back to your dark ages,” his voice was patient. “One thing you’ll have to remember is that our,” and here he waved his arm across the landscape, “ways of living and views of the world are different from yours. Being around for centuries gives a very different perspective.”

  “Are demons..um...uh...” I started again. “Do demons live as long as vampires?” What a lame question!

  “No. We live longer that regulars, but aren’t immortal. We respect the agreements our ancestors made with the Baron and his family so we’re trained to spend our lives as, what did you call it?, a combination of babysitter and bodyguard? It’s what we do. It’s what we know.”

  We had reached the edge of the forest and suddenly last night’s dream and the heart-stopping noises came rushing back. I gasped and couldn’t take a step into the trees.

  “Are you alright?” Sandor asked, whipping his head around for any sight or scent that he may have missed.

  I panted, then got a grip and took a couple of deep breaths. “Yes, I’m OK. It’s just a dream I had last night. One of your demons had to come in and wake me.”

  “I did hear about that. He said you hit him and it surprised him ...”

  “Yes. Well. It was only a pillow. I think in my dream it was a huge and heavy branch. I was hearing the most God-awful noises. Grunting then howls. But the worst was the snuffling, it got louder and louder. Whatever was making the sound was getting closer and closer. I whirled around, picked up a branch and swung it...and hit the guard with a pillow.

  “I can understand the howls, I’m sure there must be wolves in these forests, but the grunting and snuffling I couldn’t place. It sort of sounded like giant hogs, like I heard at a county fair once. But that doesn’t make sense. There can’t be county fair hogs in the Hungarian forests.”

  “Feral,” Sandor said.

  “Feral? What’s feral?”

  He had a strange expression, wrinkling his nose like he might sneeze.

  “Do you smell something? Is something here?” He was creeping me out.

  “Wild,” he finally said. “My English is good, but I suddenly couldn’t come up with that word. There are wild—feral—pigs all through the woods. Many. many years ago, when the Huszars and Kandeskys were still taking people, their farm animals were left with no one to care for them. Horses, cows, goats, pigs...they all began to fend for themselves. Cows and horses didn’t do too well. Some were recaptured by us and by the few peasants left, but many were eaten by wolves. Goats and sheep, too.

  “But pigs; pigs are smart. They found plenty to eat and grew strong. They figured out how to hide in the bushes and brambles. Wolves left them alone. There was a lot easier food for them to get. The pigs grew bigger, stronger, more wily. And now, they’re predators and run with the wolves...the werewolves, too.”

  “Wait, wait...there’re werewolves out there?”

  “There are a few. They’ve allied themselves with the Huszars, just like the feral pigs, and both of them are very dangerous.”

  “So the Kandeskys allied with the demons and the Huszars took on the wolves and pigs? This is just...” I shook my head. My language deserted me faster that Sandor’s English left him. I was accepting vampires, beginning to understand demons, but wolves? Pigs? This was crazy talk.

  “The Huszars may be nasty, but they’re not all stupid,” Sandor said. “Do you still want to go to the river? If you do, we need to move a little faster. You don’t want to be in the forest when night comes.”

  Talk of pigs—not to mention the Huszars and their friendlies—was making me nervous, but I didn’t want to give in to fear. And I really did want to see the river; it might be something normal.

  “Let’s keep going, then,” bravado all the way. “Why would somebody use wild pigs?”

  “Outside of the fact that they’re vicious and good watch animals—their eyesight isn’t too good but their senses of hearing and smell are almost better than a dog’s—they forage for themselves and dig up truffles. The Huszars make a lot of money from truffles. They sell them as the big auction in France and Italy.”

  I had to stop this conversation. It was cycling down to a place where I couldn’t follow. Just then, I saw the river through a break in the trees. It was pretty. And it looked cold. It came rushing down a set of rapids then widened out to a fast-moving stream. Two men in waders with fishing rods stood just out from the edge, not talking but casting. They’d reel in and cast again, placing the flies just down from the end of the rapids and watching their lines float for several yards before reeling in and casting again.

  “We are different,” Sandor whispered, maybe to me, maybe to himself. “This looks crazy and boring to me. How can one just stand there, throwing out that line over and over.”

  “I don’t think a lot of people like fly-fishing,” I was in a place of defending something I thought was pretty boring, too. “But then I don’t think everybody likes wrestling or bowling or skeet shooting or...”

  “Yes, I see,” the demon said. “It looks like they’re getting ready to leave.”

  The two men couldn’t have heard us over the rushing water, but they were pulling up their lines and the baskets they had in the water. Once they had them on the bank, they opened the baskets and began holding up fish. They took turns, one holding a fish and the other taking a picture. Then they tossed the fish back in the river and hauled another one out of the baskets for a picture.

  Watching them, I realized that from Sandor’s perspective, this was true craziness. They spent all day catching the fish, then just let them go. Didn’t even keep one to eat.

  The fishermen turned away from the river and started when they saw us.

  “We have permits. We’re guests of the Baron,” one of them yelled over the roar of the water.

  “I know,” I yelled back. “I recognized you from dinner last night. I’m Maxie Gwenoch.”

  The two were producers. The Baron always asked a few regulars from the entertainment business to stay with him a couple of times a year. The invitations were highly regarded. Getting one, or better yet a second, could assure that casting and production would go smoothly for the next picture.

  They came up the bank and we set off for the castle, Sandor in the rear. The easiness that the demon and I developed on the way down to the river evaporated and Sandor was back to his silent bodyguard role. As we wound through the trees, I suddenly noticed Sandor slowing and sniffing. His eyes were wary. I gave him a quizzical look and he shook his head slightly. “We need to hurry just a bit,” he said. “The Baron will want everybody changed and ready by eight.”

  As we came up to the mudroom door, where the producers would take off all their gear, Sandor motioned me to follow him into the hall.

  “What did you see?” I asked, a little of my earlier unease coming back.

  “It’s what I smelled,” the demon looked stern. “Something’s up. The pigs are running. Your presence has really stirred the pot with the Huszars. No after-dark strolls tonight, a guard on your door and patrols on all the terraces until we can figure this out. Please wait.”

  He took his cell out, gave a quick order in Hungarian and another demon came through the doorway.

  “He’ll escort you to your room to get ready for dinner. Lisbet will be with you to help you dress. I’ll alert Jean-Louis and he’ll take you dow
n to dinner.”

  Oh, this was just great. Now I was getting spooked and the vampire who I thought was becoming interested in me may not be more than an attractive fill-in for the demon babysitter.

  Had I thrown myself in with the vampires for all the wrong reasons?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  When my escort opened my door, Lisbet was building a fire. She turned and her look said she’d been told to keep an eye out. “Good evening. Did you enjoy your walk? Do you want to bathe now?”

  My shower had been more to wake me up and a soak sounded good now. It could relax me and erase the last of the dream.

  “Please. And I think the black and white tonight.” I sank into water that smelled like spring in the lavender fields of France and closed my eyes. A field of lavender was far preferable to dark Hungarian forests.

  Lisbit had laid out underwear and my second great personal shopper’s choice—a vertical stripe black and white silk with a full skirt and fitted bodice. A wide sash tied in the back, a look I normally wouldn’t wear, but the vertical stripes gave the illusion of height and with the last few pounds I lost, I had a decent waistline. I swept my hair up and slipped into a pair of black evening sandals. I sure wasn’t an Ice Princess, but I looked good and felt wonderful.

  And when Jean-Louis knocked then opened the door, his appraising look told me that others thought I looked good, too.

  “You’re ready?”

  “Let me get a wrap.” I grabbed a narrow shawl and made a last make-up check. I was determined not to be under his spell tonight; he was just an escort. Granted, a lot better-looking and much smoother than the demons.

  He gave me a slow smile and just the beginning of a glimmer as we headed downstairs. “I hear you had an interesting day. Sandor said you asked lots of questions on your way to the river.”

  “I did. And he was full of information. It’s a little like Wonderland or the Looking-Glass, though. For every answer, it begs a dozen more questions. I still find it difficult to just accept the things I’m told.”

  Particularly that Jean-Louis is only acting as a bodyguard. I thought I could pick up on a guys interest in me but I’d never been around a vampire. That apparently threw my intuition into park.

  As we came into the salon, there was more chatter and everybody seemed a little looser. By the second night of a house party, alliances had been made and friendships were forming. The vampires were at their best again, glimmering and looking smashing.

  Carola chose an ice blue, Pen was in a complicated draped and tucked print in shades of mauve and lavender, Mira looked Brazilian in a vivid jungle print open caftan over tight red toreador pants and high heels up to here. Maria, one of the stay-at-home family members, must not have stayed at home to shop. She was dressed in what was certainly couture from Paris, but I didn’t recognize the designer. It was an off-one-shoulder number in a peach colored sheer fabric that made her look like a Botticelli model. And tonight the three men were sticking close.

  Jean-Louis handed me a glass of wine and than excused himself to go over and have a quiet conversation with the Baron that consisted of a lot of shrugging, eye-rolling and Hungarian hand gestures that I couldn’t read. I headed over to a clot of the regulars, including the two fishermen from this afternoon.

  “My escort thought you two were crazy, catching fish and then throwing them back,” I raised my eyebrows.

  The producers, who introduced themselves as Bruce and Rick, nodded.

  “It’s important to get an invitation to one of the Baron’s house parties,” one of them—Bruce?—shrugged. “But most of the people who actually work for the Baron are tied up all day. You only see them at night, so it’s sometimes hard to find things to do during the day.”

  “Yeah,” Rick chimed in. “There are always a few people who aren’t employees and don’t keep those crazy hours at these things, so we tend to get together. Bruce and I don’t fish at home. How do you manage?’

  “Manage what?” I didn’t follow the shift in conversation.

  “The hours. A lot SNAP business is done at night. Are you supposed to work all night and sleep all day?” He snickered. “But then, to work for the Baron I’d manage to stay awake for a 10 p.m. meeting.”

  Suddenly, it hit me. They didn’t know. It seemed that I was the only regular at this house party who knew about the vampires. Some of SNAP’s employees were either vampires or donors and those who weren’t, including the support and technical staff, were carefully kept out of the loop. And night work made sense when you realized that SNAP was international, covering all time zones, with a nighttime program. Somebody, most somebodies, had to work “crazy” hours and overnight shifts so there was no reason to find it odd. Any more off than a host for a network early morning talk show to get up at 2 a.m. and be in makeup by 4 a.m. for a 5 a.m. show.

  I smiled at Bruce. “Well, it takes some getting used to. You learn to sleep when you can. Probably like being a doctor or a cop, except most of our meetings aren’t emergencies so you don’t get waked up in the middle of the night. You’re already awake and at work.” I laughed. “And when you get your bank statements, you really don’t mind.”

  “So, all the rumors about the Baron’s pay scales are true?”

  “Hmmm...” Oops. I shouldn’t have brought money up. In a business where you were what you made, the rumor mills worked overtime. “I don’t know what the pay scales are, I just know that a lot of employees stay with SNAP and the Baron for a long time. And I’m happy with my salary.

  “What else does everybody do here during the day? I was so jet-lagged that I slept late today.”

  “There are stables, if you ride, and a pool, but it’s chilly for swimming. You can always scare up one of those spooky black-suit guys if you want to go into the town, or village, I guess. It’s not a big place, but there’re a few shops to get some souvenir stuff...coo-coo clocks and carvings.”

  Rick gave me a speculative look. “I noticed that you came down to the river this afternoon with one of the black suits. Don’t they give you the willies? I understand bodyguards. It just seems weird to have them follow you around out here in the wild.”

  Oh, boy. I had to get this conversation shifted before it got any further. “I just thought it was nice of him to show me the best path down the river,” I smiled gently, hoping to showing that I appreciated the attention. “It’s kind of a luxury, having your own tour guide who knows the place. I thought tomorrow I’d look through the library. There are a lot of books on local history, even some in English,” I laughed.

  “We’re leaving early afternoon,” Brian informed me. “We’re meeting with some people in Budapest, then talking to some money people in London before we head back to the Coast. Even with a Baron invite, we still need to keep on top of stuff and this trip has been a way to get face time with people who matter. Are you leaving? We could share a ride.”

  “I’m staying for a while. As senior management, my time is the Baron’s. You know what that’s like,” I pursed my mouth. “Maybe I’ll see you back on the Coast.”

  As a ploy to show Jean-Louis that I could hold my own at a cocktail party, this effort with Bruce and Rick probably earned me a C-. As I came over to Jean-Louis, Josef announced dinner so we all filed into the dining room. Tonight I was seated between Carola and Janos, who spoke little English, making for a pretty one-sided conversation. I did comment on the beauty of the countryside which got me a shy smile and an outpouring of Hungarian with Carola translating.

  “Janos says ‘thank you,’ his family has been here for centuries,” Carola’s silvery laugh rang out. “I don’t know why that always amuses me, of course his family has been here. Like most of us, he’s proud of his homeland and so happy that they’ve made it through all the turmoil of the last two centuries.”

  I was reminded that Carola had mentioned the Esterhazys where we first met and thought this would be a good time to ask about it.

  “My, yes,” she said, her eyes twinkl
ing. “I did kind of roll out a story for you. We all have cover stories for new people.

  “I think anyone who’s been in this part of the world for as long as we have, believes that they have some Esterhazy blood somewhere in their background. We think we should be royalty just because we have the love of country and a kind of noblesse oblige in our blood. The Esterhazys were leaders in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which was around for a long time. Actually, though, some of us were here first. The Baron, for one, and Pen. Janos and Bela too, I believe.”

  She leaned across me and spoke to my left-hand dinner partner. He answered back. Whatever she’d asked him, he was pleased. His eyes lit up and color washed his cheeks like a war hero coming home.

  “He has been in the family almost as long as the Baron,” she said. “He’s proud to tell his story because he wasn’t in the upper classes. He was originally the head groom and when the Baron asked if he’d be an acolyte and manage the stables, he was astounded. He’s been grateful ever since, and now he’s invited every so often to the Baron’s table.”