Perch seemed thoroughly perplexed, if not a little pissed off. Once again he pointed to Janice and then to the bed, but this time he dropped to the wooden floor, curled up in the fetal position and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He looked up at Janice. She scratched her head.
He jumped up in a single flop. He grabbed her bags and threw them into the room. They hit the far wall.
“Oh, is this my room?”
He looked at us, fists clenched. A loud pulsating came from his chest as if his heart was working overtime. The pulsating, now visible, moved up along his sternum and into his neck.
His mouth burst open. “No shit, Sherlock!”
“You don’t have to be rude,” Janice said, still calm and beautiful. “And congratulations on your miraculous recovery.”
Perch, eyes once wide with rage but now surprise, looked at us with a new excitement. “I can talk! I can talk!” he said with an irritating repetition that I hoped would soon be corrected with more practice.
He turned and headed down the stairs. “Excuse me,” said Professor L, “I don’t mean to dissipate your joy, but you forgot to show us our rooms.”
“Over there. Over there. Over there.” Definitely needed more practice, I concluded. He pointed on down the hall and then was gone. The loud, repetitive talking I heard downstairs was an indication that Perch could hardly wait to share his big news. Over and over again.
Buddy, Juan, and Professor L began choosing their rooms. I, instead, poked my head into Janice’s room. “There’s a double bed a few rooms down,” I suggested, pretty sure I could find one somewhere in the one-in-a million-chance she agreed. Actually I liked those odds. Let the bones roll, baby!
She, however, had a suggestion of her own, and I must say that never in my life had I envisioned using a curtain rod in such a manner.
But I think she sort of liked me.
I passed the other three as they began unpacking in their selected rooms, and I turned into the next available one. I dropped my two suitcases on the floor then dropped myself into a chair. The grumbling in my stomach kept my ears busy, while images of Janice occupied my thoughts.
No, not those images. You pervert. I mean, the ones with her clothes on where we’re having a serious relationship.
What more was there to do? I was truly dumbfounded. Maybe I could read a book on the subject. Surely there was a book called How to Talk to Girls in the college library. Hell, I’d found How to Talk to Vampires and Mesmerizing for Dummies. Why not a book on getting lucky?
As I sat there feeling sorry for myself, I noticed something that had been nagging at me since I first stepped through the mansion’s doors. This place was mighty weird, with all the angles of the doors, windows, and rooms tilting slightly out of square. And these relatives of Dial’s were odd ducks. But it was more than that.
It was all working out too perfectly. We’d located the vampire, we’d found a nice base right next to the alleged vampire resting grounds, and all we had to do was walk right up and introduce ourselves.
And, hopefully, ask him to bite us.
Chapter Seven
When we had unpacked, Dial showed us around. Maybe I should have been more shocked at the fact that all of Dial’s relatives had to duck to get through doorways. I heard Buddy whisper to Juan that it was all in the genes. Of course, Juan had to say something about something in somebody’s jeans, and then he had to giggle about it.
As we passed in and out of the many halls, studies and libraries, we came into contact with many of Dial’s cousins, and I didn’t think I passed the same cousin twice. Maybe we were in the midst of a family reunion or something.
Dial said it was cultural and that was that. You couldn’t really argue with culture, especially when the culture was big and mean-looking.
We came upon a large room in the East wing and found an old man seated in a deep red, leather chair. His fingers were tented before his hawk-like face.
“Gang, this is my granddaddy,” Dial said.
He nodded, squinting, and studied us closely before saying, “I hope your stay is peaceful.”
I stepped forward, being the leader and all. “I want to thank you for letting us stay in your spacious and intimidating house, Mr., uh....”
“Just call me Granddaddy Grandmaster, or Grandmaster for short.”
“Er, sure. It’s a most gracious gesture, Grandmaster. We’re the Vampire Club, as Dial probably told you.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed, and they hadn’t been that wide open to begin with. “Dial tells me you’re tracking the two-hundred-year route a vampire supposedly traveled. Something like retracing the route of Lewis and Clark?”
“He has told you correctly, Granddaddy Grandmaster,” I said, glad that our newest club member had not leaked too much top-secret information even to his grandfather, because that would be cause for censure. “It’s sort of like a pilgrimage. To walk the same backwoods as our vampire had, to see what he saw, to smell what he smelled. It doesn’t bother us that we’re just a few hundred years late. We’re content with the fact that we are standing on hallowed ground.”
The humor in his eyes was replaced by a momentary darkening, but the humor returned soon enough. “Well then, I wish you many pleasures! And restful peace.”
“Thank you, Granddaddy Grandmaster.”
“Grandmaster for short,” he said.
And as Dial led the way out of the room, I noticed a few peculiarities. First, there was a map of the world behind him with twenty or more tacks dotting different countries. Second, chairs were grouped around Grandmaster’s chair as if he’d spoken to a small group or held a meeting.
So the old man liked geography lessons. At that age, he’d earned the right to a few quirks. Such as a name like “Grandmaster.”
Chapter Eight
After we’d somewhat adjusted to our new and spacious surroundings, we ate. Dozens of bronze-skinned Toens were hunched over their plates on each side of the long elegant dining table, slurping and smacking and wolfing.
Before me was a chunk of beef the size of my head. As I sat there figuring out a plan of attack, Buddy leaned over and whispered in my ear: “This table’s over twenty feet long. Guess how they measured it?”
I shrugged.
Buddy looked down at his groin. “Need I say more?”
“You’re sick,” hissed Janice who somehow managed to piece together our male humor. She was used to it, being the only female of the club.
Buddy opened his mouth to reply, but Grandmaster at the head of the table began hitting his own side of beef with the handle of his steak knife. The result was a sickening sound that sounded more like kinky sex. Or maybe I was just thinking like Buddy. I looked at Janice just in case, but she didn’t get it.
So much for a sick, kinky sex connection.
Everyone grew quiet as Grandmaster pounded his meat. “As head of this household, I want to formally welcome you. We all know of your quest and wish you the best of luck.”
“And,” I said, “As head of The Vampire Club, I want to thank you for your extreme generosity in both the accommodations and meal.”
“Just our way of helping out whenever possible. Dial is such a dear grandson”—someone laughed further down the table and Grandmaster looked at him sternly—“we like to help him when possible. We encourage his dedication to vampires and consider it an extreme honor to welcome The Vampire Club into our mansion.”
With the formalities out of the way, we ate, and by the passionate stares of Dial Toen’s cousins, it was none too soon. If they’d have had to wait much longer, they might have taken our livers.
All that growling and munching reminded me that I hadn’t eaten all day. I sawed and hacked and tore and ripped and ate and was grinning like a fool, beef juice streaming down my chin. Janice ate with grace, daintily slicing her beef into thin strips. Buddy used his hands, the pig. Juan was like me, chowing down. Dial ate like his relatives, and I knew there wouldn’t be any seconds.
Over the smacking and chomping, I heard a noise. I stopped chewing and realized it was Juan.
“Andy? Andy?”
“Whaaaft?” I managed.
He pointed to the head of the table where Grandmaster seemed to be waiting for me. I swallowed a lump of half-chewed meat, and it nearly stuck just above my windpipe. I was mere inches from getting mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Janice.
“Mr. Barthamoo,” said Grandmaster, “might I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“You, uh, came across this information about your vampire in a local newspaper?”
The cousins all stopped eating at once and looked at me expectantly. The silence was creepy, and so was their nose-breathing.
“Yes, a newspaper article from the early nineteenth century,” I said. “It was part of a journalism assignment, and I pretty much stumbled upon it.”
Grandmaster whispered something to an old grizzled man next to him, and I could have sworn I heard “M er er aqr er qer.” For all I know, he was muttering Hebrew or Mayan.
The cousins were nodding their heads and whispering among themselves. I wondered what was going on.
Grandmaster must have noticed my curious expression, for he said, “Don’t mind us. It’s just that we find all this vampire stuff really interesting.”
Just as I once again penetrated the beef with my fork, Grandmaster spoke again. “Do you mind if I ask what newspaper it was in?”
“Certainly not. The Inquireth.”
“And you believed that story?” asked Grandmaster, shocked.
“Only because it rang of vampiric truth,” I said. “You must understand this one fact: all we ever do is study vampires. That’s it. We have studied ancient manuscripts trying to glean the facts from the myths. We have learned when an immortal entity is truly present, for there is a common thread that runs through all the tales and myths and legends.
“Long ago, it was a vampire who traveled these very roads, and that is why we are here. To trace his route, to perhaps gain something from nature that we were unable to obtain from the literature. Sort of like metaphysical tourism.”
Granddaddy nodded, turning his fork over and over in his hand, swallowing the lie as easily as he’d swallowed the gravy.
Before I dug into my steak, I added, “We’re experts, Grandmaster. Self-trained experts. Leave it to us.”
A deathly silence descended, and the only noise was my serrated knife sawing meat. Janice glared at me as if I’d been rude. Buddy and Juan shook their heads. Dial looked pissed. And all his relatives stared at me in silence.
Talk about ruining your appetite....
* * *
We all met in my room after dinner, minus the absence of the newcomer, who said he had chores to do. We were filled with beef, and from the sniff of things, filled with gas. I asked Juan to open a window.
The others, who had brought chairs from their own rooms, were in a semi-circle with me at the head and Professor L at my side. I could tell with my keen sense of intuition that they all had something on their minds. That, and the fact they were babbling incoherently at once.
But mostly I noticed Buddy shoving at Janice’s face with his huge paw, while she had a handful of his blond hair. It seemed like nobody could keep their hands off her except me.
Damn it.
“Janice, your impressions so far,” I began, wanting to divert her.
She released Buddy’s hair and untangled a strand that had wrapped around her pinkie. “This place is spooky. What kind of family is this? And why are there so many relatives living in this one mansion? And why do they all look as if the Terminator T-800 used his futuristic medical advances to impregnate the She-Hulk, and out comes Dial and all his relatives one after the other?”
“Vividly put,” I said, and felt my dinner rise in my throat a little at the odd sexual imagery. “To be honest, I’m just as baffled as you, and from the agreeing nods of Juan’s and Buddy’s heads, I’d say we all feel the same. Except,” And here I pointed at the professor. “And where were you at the time of the murder?”
“Is someone murdered?” Professor L said.
“Pre-law flashbacks,” I apologized. “As you all know, that was what I did at UCLA. At least, until I received word of this new major and found the only path I could follow with all my heart and soul.”
“That’s okay,” said Juan. “We were once all part of the mundane world, secretly living our vampire fantasies. Yes, Professor L, you are a godsend, for we were truly lost until you, and you alone, founded this major.”
“Lost,” said Janice.
“Wandering,” added Buddy, in a rare moment of reflection.
We occasionally recalled the dreary confusion and frustration of our past lives before the creation of vampire studies at our beloved university. I discovered we had unconsciously linked hands and had bowed our heads. We were truly one, and no matter how different our lives had been in the past, there was an inseparable bond between the five us—and the glue that held it together was for the love of vampires.
It didn’t matter if some of the time we did not get along; that was to be expected. If we were not different, there would be no challenge. And, as much as I’d wish there was some sticky glue between me and Janice, at least we were bound by this obsession of all things fanged.
We looked slowly up at once, as if someone had said “Amen.”
“People,” I said, “We must move on, for the time is drawing closer for our midnight departure to the cemetery.
“Now, Dial insists that he has not spilled the proverbial chili beans about our true intentions, and we can only trust him. We all must remember, what we are about to do tonight is grave-robbing, and, sadly, it is looked down upon by the law. When we planned this trip a week ago, Professor L and I knew we had no chance of obtaining a judge’s permission to exhume the casket based on the fact that we believed a living vampire was confined in it.
“So we must perform our act in secrecy. No one can know our true purpose. This community is too closely knit—if one person finds something out, the whole town would know soon enough—so that means we keep Granddaddy Grandmaster and the others in the dark. If word ever escaped our lips of what we are up to, we are in a heap of trouble, and that’s the end of the Vampire Club.”
Since the cemetery was located on the road and wasn’t more than half a mile away, we didn’t need any transportation. A convoy of Broncos might have drawn unwanted attention. We would slip out of the house and walk the short distance. All we would bring were flashlights, shovels, and a special satchel that contained my vampire resuscitation kit.
As the group headed out of my room, lugging their chairs with them, I pulled Professor L aside. You’d think a sixty-year-old man hanging out with college kids was a little creepy, but he was a true researcher, and what he lacked in youthful energy, he made up for in knowledge. The club couldn’t have functioned without him. Plus, he knew how to get grants.
Once alone, I asked him, “So what’s your impression so far?”
“We are in some serious shit.”
That didn’t sound very academic. “Serious shit?”
“Serious shit. Deep doo-doo. Catastrophic ca-ca. Bottomless—”
“I get the point. Might I ask why?”
“I have been a vampire lover long before Anne Rice, Twilight, and the True Blood series, and I have studied many a myth on the vampire. But there is one myth that seems far more legendary than the rest. It is so mythical I hardly know what I’m talking about, and I always know what I am talking about. It’s as if, well, let me put it this way: we all have five senses, but what if someone had another sense and he was able to discern future events? What if this was an actual sense, like seeing, touching, urinating—”
“Not a sense.”
“Should be. Anyway, do you know what I’m getting at?”
“I think so,” I said. “Sort of like a sixth sense.”
“Exactly,” he burst out.
<
br /> “An interesting concept. Like, half the world has seen that movie.” Yes, there’s more to life than vampires, but not a whole lot.
“This sense, this hypothetical sixth sense, is setting off warning bells in my head louder than any of that rapping you kids listen to. Your Kid Rock and Lady Gaga and—hey, isn’t Gaga another name for doo-doo?”
“Professor, tell me about the legend,” I said, before he got going again. He was as bad as Perch. “What is it you read or heard whispered?”
“It’s a clan, Andy, the VVV. They watch over all vampire graves. The members of VVV have sworn their very lives to guard the graves, to make sure no vampires walk the earth again. I am beginning to suspect that my ancestor Ed Royce was part of this very secret society.”
I’d read a thousand vampire websites, but I had yet to come across this one. “What does VVV stand for?”
“Vu Vlux Vlad.”
“Of course.”
Chapter Nine
Mustering forth all my logic and deductive skills, I said to Professor L, “And you think Dial Toen and his relatives are part of this VVV?”
“You must remember, my student,” said Professor L. “The existence of the VVV has never been proven. Only whispers passed through the ages have kept the rumor alive.”
“But, but...” I seemed to be at a loss for words. That was a first.
“Andy, I want you to think back to our vampire-sighting charts. Has not the number of sightings dropped over the last century?”
“Distinctively. Most troubling.”
“Do you have any explanations for it?”
“Between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, about a thousand vampires on average were reported each year. Like with UFOs, some reliable sources have spoken up, but most were hoaxes, pranks, flat-out lies, or devices for cheap fame. Still, the sightings were reported and vampires were very active in those days, or rather nights.
The Vampire Club Page 3