by Kat Cotton
I guessed I should be glad I was being released and not suffering some horrendous punishment. Even if I did have to hang out with the mayor.
“Thank you, Mayor,” Baldy said. “I’m sure Ms. Starr will be only too happy to help you with your mission.”
“What mission?”
“We’ll talk later,” the mayor said.
As I left the room, Baldy coughed a dry cough of wanting attention.
“Oh, one last thing, Ms. Starr. We’ve reprogrammed those cuffs. We were remiss in our original programming, unfortunately, but we didn’t expect a vampire to thrall you. That’s all been sorted out now. Invisible barrier and all that.”
I sneered, ready to tell Baldy just what I thought of him, but the mayor put his hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the room. I twisted to get his hand off me.
I didn’t need to, though. The mayor jumped away from me, a strange look on his face.
“I think our first task is to get you cleaned up. You don’t smell too fresh,” he said. Covering his nose.
We walked to the elevator.
“They wouldn’t let me shower or change my clothes. Bastards.”
Wait. They’d told me I couldn’t shower until they’d run their experiments, but now they were only too happy to let me go free? I could shower a hundred times a day while I was with the mayor. That “no showering” policy had been lies. They just wanted to torment me. Like not showering was any kind of punishment. It might be slightly unpleasant, but it was nothing on that piss bucket.
Come to think of it, I didn’t have clothes to change into even if I did shower. I only had the stuff I was wearing.
Maybe the mayor could buy me a new outfit.
I suggested that in the cab, but the mayor said it had been taken care of. I hoped he wasn’t planning anything weird.
The cab pulled up at the hotel. This didn’t look like the mayor’s style. Not nearly swanky enough. If I’d have given it any thought, I’d have seen him in an impersonal business hotel chain, the sort of place where you racked up points on some kind of loyalty card.
We had to walk down a path at the side of the building and get into a shonky elevator to ride up to the third floor. When we got out, I realized the hotel was right on the river. I stared at the city, because the only sightseeing I’d done so far was the stone walls of that cell.
“If you look hard, you can see the castle over there,” the mayor said. “The hotel is a bit far out of town, but the tram stops just outside.”
“It’s nice,” I said. “Leafy.”
The mayor opened a door that led into the lobby. Definitely not what I’d have considered his style. Not that this place was a fleabag or anything. It just had an air of oldness. More your package tour and middle-aged sightseer kind of place.
The reception area was none too stylish. A fridge full of drinks, shelves of snack foods behind the reception desk. Hell, yeah. Food. Snack foods.
The mayor rang the bell, and we waited. I looked around the place.
The fake leather lounge chairs arranged in groups under some floor lamps added to the dark and heavy feel of the place. There were a few faded travel posters on the wall and dogeared brochures in stands. That gun firing range—I’d bet good money that the Council wouldn’t let me near it, but learning to shoot a machine gun would be a practical life skill for me. And, hey, driving tanks. Even more life skills.
The most appealing part of the decor was the sign with the Wi-Fi password. No more roaming charges for me.
It took a few minutes for someone to appear. An older guy with excessive ear hair dawdled to the desk from a back room. He’d been asleep in that back room—you could so tell. He mumbled something to the mayor, and the mayor got out a passport. My passport. Hey, that had been hidden in my underwear drawer back home. How had the mayor gotten hold of it? Had he been in my underwear drawer? Gross.
I got a juice out of the fridge and pointed to the tubes of Pringles behind the counter. Then I saw the sign. Latte. Hell, yeah.
“I’ll take these and a latte. Charge them to my room,” I said.
The old man shuffled to the back room. From the sound of it, he had one of those capsule machines back there. I guessed it made him some extra bucks, because this place didn’t look too busy.
The mayor raised his eyebrows. I raised mine back. He raised his higher. I saw his raise and doubled it. If he had any problem with me getting some nourishment, I’d have something to say about it.
“Don’t go overboard, Clementine,” he said.
“Hey, Mayor. Moderation is my middle name.”
He chuckled. “Yes, only if ‘Lack of’ was your first name. Lack of Moderation Starr.”
He laughed way too much for my liking. I could be moderate.
The old man came back with my coffee.
I took a big sniff, wafting the fumes to my nose. Oh my God. Coffee. I’d missed it so much. I almost cried just from the aroma. I wanted to kiss that old man. We could become BFF. I could sit around braiding his ear hair. That’s how happy I was about my coffee.
When I was all checked in, I took my coffee mug to my room. A small backpack was sitting on my bed. I rushed to open it, and some of my clothes tumbled out.
“One of those vampires packed it for me,” the mayor said.
I hoped it’d been Luis or Shelley, not Andre.
“Thanks,” I said.
They’d packed a skirt and a few t-shirts. No boots, but some thick tights. I’d need them in this cold. It definitely hadn’t been Andre who’d packed it, or I’d have a bag full of crotchless knickers and lacy lingerie.
“Shower and change, then come to my room. We have things to discuss.”
“That thing had better not be your penis.”
The mayor just shook his head and left. I guessed I was being a bit tough on the guy. For all his faults, the mayor wasn’t a sleaze. At least, not that I’d seen.
The room was functional, not stylish. Heavy wooden furniture, salmon-pink curtains. Cheap gray carpet, the kind that looks like it’s full of static electricity. A desk with a tapestry-covered chair, a small wardrobe and a real bed. That bed had an actual mattress and sheets. I loved that bed. My back would never be the same after sleeping on that shitty camp stretcher.
I wanted to curl up on that bed and sleep forever.
Hell, that was a rotary dial phone next to the bed. It was like a museum piece. Did that thing even work any more? I picked it up. Yep, there was a dial tone.
I stripped off and jumped under the shower. Oh, man, that shower felt so good after being in a rancid cell. It wasn’t until I was under the water that I thought about not getting the cuffs wet, but I hadn’t been electrocuted or anything bad, so it wasn’t an issue. I guessed if they could be disabled by water, that would be way too easy.
I had days of grime and sweat covering me. I could’ve stayed in that shower forever, but I needed to call Kisho to let him know what was happening. Hopefully, I’d be able to call him without getting zapped.
Maybe it’d be easier with a rotary phone.
Owww.
I guessed that was my answer. Calling Kisho was a one-way ticket to zap town. I went to the mayor’s room, figuring I’d find a way to contact Kisho later.
Freedom tasted so sweet. Not unlike my coffee. Next time, I’d tell the old man to hold off on the sugar.
Chapter 7 Alchemist
THE MAYOR’S ROOM HAD a slightly different layout from mine. I turned the desk chair around to face him and sat down.
“So, Mayor, what’s this all about?” I asked.
He sat down on the bed. “Clementine. I have a matter that requires your assistance.”
He shot me that “swell guy” mayor smile. That so didn’t work on me anymore. I knew how unswell the mayor actually was.
I picked at my nail. “I knew you weren’t doing this out of the goodness of your heart. So, what’s up?”
“There’s a vampire operating in this town. He preys
on tourists and is a particularly slippery character. The Council, of course, want him eliminated. He’s causing them quite a bit of embarrassment. They’ve kept it hush-hush so far, but word will get out.”
“So what? They have all those troopers. Can’t they even catch one vamp? I mean, I know I’m the world’s greatest demon fighter and all, but they should be able to manage this on their own. And how are you involved? Surely, you don’t care about some vamp running around in Europe. You’ve got trouble enough at home.”
I tucked my leg under me. I’d left my Pringles on the desk in my room. Damn it. Now that I’d finished in the shower, my stomach rumbled like crazy. Did the mayor have any food here?
“This is no ordinary vampire,” the mayor said. “And the Council don’t want him dusted.”
“Yeah?”
“He’s got a special skill. Alchemy.”
“Alchemist vampire. Cool. But, wait. Why? Vampires already have eternal life. What do they want with alchemy?”
There was no food in this room that I could see. My stomach rumbled loudly. If the mayor wanted me to concentrate, why wasn’t he feeding me? I’d been starved for days.
“There’s more to alchemy than finding the secret to eternal life. This vampire turns ordinary metals into gold.”
I sat up. That sounded very interesting. Hell, I’d never have to work again. I could sit on a mountain of gold and have my minions feed me peeled grapes. If there was a way to turn regular metals to gold, why hadn’t I found it already?
“So, like, this crappy pen—he could turn that into gold?” I said, holding up the pen that had been sitting on the desk.
“No. Actually, I think that’s plastic. But that really old-fashioned TV, he could turn that to gold.” The mayor tapped on the TV set. “Actually, no, I think that’s plastic, too. But the knobs on the dresser, I think they’re real metal. Anyway, you get the picture.”
I nodded. I got the picture, all right. It was a pretty picture of a super-rich Clem. I’d have a gold car and a gold house and… well, gold everything.
“We need to learn his secrets,” the mayor said.
“Hell, yeah, we do. Let’s find this vamp. Gold, gold, gold. I’m going to be so rich.”
“You’re not going to be rich, Clementine. But you might get some leeway with the Council.”
“Leeway, shmeeway. I don’t want leeway. I want gold.” I pouted.
The mayor leaned back on the bed and gave me a searching look. “The Council are very keen to have him stopped.”
“Will they let me go if I catch him?”
“Not much chance of that, I’m afraid.”
Bastards. They couldn’t use me for their covert demon-fighting operations, then throw me back in the clink. Well, I guessed they could, since they had these electrifying cuffs on me. But ethically, they couldn’t.
“To be honest, Clementine, you don’t have much choice in this. You work with me, or you go back to that cell. At least you get a bit of freedom this way.”
He had a fair point, but I hated being in the Council’s power. Even thinking about how much I hated it gave me a warning zap in my wrists.
“I don’t want to help the Council,” I said. Risky, but it had to be said.
“I don’t think you fully grasp the situation you’re in, Clementine. This isn’t a simple trial, and these tests the Council want to perform—well, let’s just say they won’t be pleasant. You’ll be locked in a laboratory.”
He picked up his phone and did a search, then held up some pictures to show me. Horrible photos of dogs in cages.
“But they’re dogs. They won’t do that to me.”
“Look at that poor little beagle,” the mayor said. “It breaks my heart to see that poor puppy being tortured. Why would anyone buy cosmetics tested on animals? There are so many viable alternatives.”
I thought the mayor was laying it on a bit thick, but when he looked up, he had a tear in his eye. Wow, the mayor really loved dogs. I guessed no one was totally evil.
“But I’m not a dog, and I won’t be used for product testing.”
“If you think their researchers will think of you as any more human than these dogs, you’re being very naive, Clementine. They’ve already determined that you aren’t. That gives them carte blanche to do what they like with you. Those DNA tests they did on you absolve them of any requirement to treat you as human.”
I screwed up my face. “Well, I can’t really think too much about that. Because those thoughts don’t end well. Incapacitating electric bracelets, remember?”
I held up my wrists to remind him.
The mayor kept looking at those tortured puppies until I got up and snatched his phone from him.
“You’re only upsetting yourself looking at that,” I said to him. I closed his browser. “Now, tell me why you’re involved.”
“Our city has been devastated, Clementine. You know that as well as I do. You’ve seen the damage.”
“Yeah, and you were in part to blame for that. You set the ball in motion without fully thinking about the consequences.”
The mayor nodded. His remorse almost looked genuine. “And now I have to make things right. But the city coffers are running very low. In part because people don’t pay their parking fines.”
He could glare at me all he liked. There was no way I was paying those fines.
“We need money to rebuild, and we need it fast.”
“Before the next mayor election, I assume.”
He nodded. “We can make the city better. Like those poor kids you sent to my safe house. They shouldn’t be sleeping on the streets. They should have a place to go. There are old people without houses, and puppies.”
“Do you mean the old people don’t have puppies, or the puppies don’t have homes?”
“Both, Clementine. Both.”
“Damn you, Mayor. Do you know what I hate about you the most? You can’t just be pure evil. There’s no black and white with you. Just gray.”
“So, you’ll help? For the kids? For the old people?”
I leaned back. “As far as I can see, there’s nothing in this for me. Either way, the Council is going to take me off to some lab and probe me. Why would I want to help them out? And why would I want to help you? I’m going back to my room to eat my Pringles and sleep on my comfy bed, and when I’m done, you’d better have a more convincing argument.”
Chapter 8 Sightseeing
FREEDOM WAS AWESOME. I could lie on my comfy bed and watch weird Czech TV and eat snack foods from the lobby. But after two days of that, I realized there were two things ruining this paradise. Firstly, I couldn’t contact Kisho, which drove me nuts. I mean, he and Nic were probably plotting more escape plans when they weren’t even needed.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it. It was that Kisho wasn’t here. It killed me to know that Kisho was so close but I couldn’t go to him. All I had was his jacket. I reached out for him, or I turned to him to make a joke about something, and every time, he wasn’t there.
When I was first locked up, he’d been so far away. I’d missed him, but I’d put the missing him in the back of my mind. But now I knew he was here, in this city. So close, but not here with me.
I tried asking the old guy on reception to call Kisho for me, but his English didn’t extend beyond basic phrases.
I tried other things. Pretending I wanted to ring the number above Kisho’s in my contacts but letting my finger slip. Wearing gloves. Using various devices around the room. None of those tricks worked on these damn cuffs.
I rang Francine, but if I even thought of telling her to pass on a message to Nic or anything Nic- or Kisho-related, I got zapped. She asked me why I was screaming, and I couldn’t even tell her. At least we could have a nice long chat using the phone in my room. I gave her my number and hoped she had the sense to pass it on to Nic, or that Nic would call her to find out what was happening. He knew I was being mind-controlled. He should be able to put the pieces together.
It was just a case of waiting for him to find out, and I hated waiting. Waiting was one of the suckiest things in life. At least Nic and Kisho had eternal life; the waiting wasn’t so bad for them. But I had time limits. And every day, every minute away from Kisho, was a minute when I could’ve been holding him and kissing him and doing kinky things to his body.
Then I worried I was being selfish. If I did manage to get in touch with him, would I only be alerting the Council about him? Contacting Kisho could mean risking his life. Once I realized that, I gave up trying to contact him.
The second bad thing was the mayor constantly nagging me. The way I figured it, if I played ball and actually went out and captured this alchemist guy, I’d be back in the clink and tortured by the Council. If I held out for as long as possible, I’d be living the sweet life.
I grabbed for the Pringles tube. A few dessert options would make this hotel more bearable, but I couldn’t complain.
The tube was empty.
Hell, I’d have to walk down to reception. I’d tried calling the old guy to ask him to bring stuff to my room, but he’d just blabbered something in Czech then hung up. This place wasn’t famous for its service. It’d sure lose a star in my TripAdvisor review for that.
I stood up, brushed the crumbs off me and went down to reception. At first, the mayor had kept my door locked, but after a day of me calling him to let me out of my room, he’d gotten bored with that and had given me the key.
I asked the old man for a latte. He shook his head.
I gathered up some more Pringles and one of the packaged cakes that were a little bit on the stale side but still edible. The old guy shook his head. He didn’t just shake it, he took the snack foods out of my hands and put them back on the shelf.
“No!” he said.
“No?”
“You have money?”
I shook my head. “Charge them to my room.”