by Deborah Noel
“Sehr gut,” I answer her. (Very well.)
In one steady motion, she opened the car door in time for Declan to help the elder Dethstare into the back seat.
We bid our goodbyes and thank yous. They left down the winding road from which we entered the cemetery as we stood there watching, they disappeared around a curve.
“So, Bolton and his family are…” My mind flashed back to the first day I saw them on the beach. The changing of Bolton’s eyes re-played vividly in my mind.
Declan finished my sentence, “Vampires?”
“Or something,” Brae chimed in.
“Well, they certainly weren’t lying in a grave while we were eating dinner.” I offered.
Declan snickered, “True.”
“Well, we’ll see,” I looked at my husband. “Jondra is going to contact them.”
Declan looked at me.
I shrugged, “We had a little talk before you got Evelyn to the car.”
Both Brae and Declan looked caught off-guard.
“She needs 24 hours.”
Once we got back to the car, Brae all but begged for us to visit the resting place of Sebastian and Gwenediere. This was a once in a lifetime event for her and we made her day.
When we got to the area where the Ludkes’s were buried, a huge mausoleum with beautiful engravings and etchings stood before us. Brae was in her glory! She snapped pictures on her digital camera left and right. She took a piece of paper and place it on the concrete stones then rubbed a lead pencil across them, etching to have a copy of the etching in real life.
After Brae was satisfied that she had seen her relatives’ graves, we did some sight-seeing around the town. We stopped and eat lunch at a quaint little restaurant. We returned to Rodeck Castle. I hurried to our room to get online to see how Shane and Sam were making out back home.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Declan and Brae stood behind me at the roll-top desk in our room.
The webcam built into my laptop would let Sam and Shane see us all.
Sam answered the computer’s instant message. Once all of the hellos were exchanged, Sam told us that Shane was out running errands, mainly grabbing some grub. The vampires downstairs were getting accustomed to their new home. They still refused to talk.
Sam called for Bullet to jump up on his lap so we could even say hello to our little dog. I got up and let Declan have the seat in front of the laptop; he and Sam talked shop.
The officers that Sam had called near the airports along the routes of those three planes that were headed overseas asked him to email a photo of Mattie for them to post with a flyer announcing a reward if she was found and returned safely. No one who worked at any of the airports recognized seeing Mattie recently.
He also hadn’t uncovered anything further about the sudden abandonment of the Dethstare’s funeral parlor nor it being left in disarray. Somehow Sam was able to secure a stakeout officer to watch for any visitors. Last report was just disappointed potential customers looking to do business.
Sam was able to dig up the name of the owner of the building that housed Dethstare’s business, which was a German woman named Heiderose J. Hellheim. All the business licenses held her name as well. There was no record of Bolton or Morticina being associated with the business. Declan promised Sam he would see if he could find anything on Heiderose.
Shane walked in just in time to have a chat with Branwen before we signed off to find somewhere to eat. Somehow she managed to tell him all of her experiences in just a few seconds. We then shut the laptop down and got ourselves ready.
Declan and Brae could tell I was a little down by no news of Mattie and tried their best to entertain me with jokes as we walked down the hallway and stairs. By the time we reached the bottom, I was giggling along with them.
I asked the girl behind the welcome counter where would be a good place for us to eat. She handed me an envelope.
My eyebrows met at the bridge of my nose as I looked to Declan. I turned the plain white envelope around; in thick calligraphy scrolled across the front was “Ms. Fitzgerald.” Nothing else was written on it. The writing almost looked ancient. I looked back to Declan. He nodded for me to go ahead and open it. The flap was tucked inside itself. I opened it and pulled out a plain white sheet of paper folded in thirds. I slowly unfolded the note and began to read it. In the same calligraphy it read:
Ms. Fitzgerald, Mr. Fitzgerald,
Please join me at 6:15
in the restaurant on the bottom floor
of Rodeck Castle.
Your guest, Ms. Brae, is invited to join us as well.
Rogi
I looked to Declan. I smiled and handed the invitation to my husband.
“Why not?” I thought to myself.
Declan’s face turned quizzical. I could see the thoughts swimming through his mind as he tried to figure out how Rogi could have possibly known we were in Germany, let alone where we were staying.
“Well, come on now,” Brae whined. “Let me in on the little secret.”
Declan handed her the invitation. Her eyes grew wide. I knew then that she was reading her own name. She instantly looked to me. I shrugged my shoulders and raised my eyebrows in answer. She looked over at Declan. He shrugged too.
“Only way to find out is to go and ask,” Declan said logically.
The girl behind the counter chimed in, in her thick German tongue, and informed us that Mr. Rogi was waiting for us downstairs. Curiosity got the best of us and we followed the hostess to the restaurant a floor below the entrance.
The eatery was dimly lit. We walked past a long fully-stocked bar. Back in the corner sat the well-dressed man we had met while at dinner with the Dethstares. His attire was similar to what he had worn when I last saw him.
He stood as we got closer to the table. “Ah, I wasn’t sure if you would truly join me,” he admitted to us.
Declan and Rogi shook hands. He kissed the top of each mine and Brae’s. He pulled out the chairs for us to sit in, then sat himself once we were comfortable in our chairs.
He snapped his fingers in the air and immediately a waitress made herself visible to take our drink order. She wrote quickly, curtseyed, and vanished to retrieve our drinks.
My smile began to feel forced as I studied Rogi. Apparently, he held clout wherever he was.
Rogi spoke up first, looking at Brae, “Are you enjoying your time here?”
“Yes, sir,” Brae answered automatically. “May I ask how you knew my name?”
Rogi laughed a hardy laugh. He leaned into the table and lowered his voice, “The bellhop dates one of my associate’s granddaughters. He was thrilled to have met a grandchild of the famous student of Merlin, Sebastian. He could barely contain himself. He choked over the words that wouldn’t stop spewing from his mouth as he recanted your story. You are now famous here, Ms. Brae.” His English was still thick with his German accent, but he was easy enough to understand.
She lit up like a welding torch making contact with metal. A touch of red painted her cheeks.
The waitress returned with our beverages. Rogi sat back into his seat as we were served. In German he instructed the waitress what dishes to bring out next. She bowed her head and scooted away.
He looked Declan square in the eyes. “Down to business. Why are you here?”
Declan seemed stunned at the bluntness of Rogi.
My husband looked to me. I blinked my eyes once. We had agreed that we would not communicate telepathically while here in case someone could overhear us.
Declan cleared his throat before he began. “Quite frankly, sir, we are here in search of our kidnapped daughter. And with no disrespect to you, what is it of your concern?”
I drew my breath in.
The big man settled further back in his cushioned seat, adjusting his shoulders into the cushion of the high-backed chair. His thin lips almost disappeared from his face. He clasped his hands together and started to wring them.
“Fair
question,” he began. “And quite simply, you are in my territory now and I like to know what is going on in my, how do you say, neck of the woods.”
Rogi looked to me, “I am sorry for your predicament, Ms. Cianna. I hope your daughter is returned to you safely. What makes you think your missing daughter is here?”
I held back the tears building behind my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to answer him without crying, so I tucked my head to my chest and brought my glance back up to meet his. He lifted his chin slightly in acknowledgment. Then returned his gaze to Declan looking for an answer to his question.
“We don’t have any particular reason to think she is here…”
Rogi stopped him mid sentence. He leaned closer to the table. “Please don’t insult my intelligence, Mr. Fitzgerald. The Dethstares have left the States and have gone underground over here. Have you talked with them while here?”
Declan’s chest puffed out as he drew in a deep breath. “No, we haven’t.”
Rogi’s eyebrows rose up. “And the outcome of your visit to Dethstares Gartens?”
Declan kept Rogi’s gaze. “Ms. Evelyn and her chauffeur took us to Schongebiethalle; which I assume you know is a cemetery. So, Mr. Rogi,” my husband paused for effect. “Since we both know that Bolton and his family are not resting in peace there, and I mean no disrespect here, but why don’t you tell us what is going on?”
The silence had weight to it, making me slightly uncomfortable.
I resisted the urge to shift and squirm in my seat. I think Brae was holding her breath. Rogi’s eyes grew darker in color and I could swear that I saw an orange flicker brush through them. His knuckles turned a few shades whiter than his already pale skin. I was preparing for an outburst. Instead, Rogi’s lips started to curl up at the corners.
“Very well my friend. I can see you are no push-over,” Rogi said guardedly, though his eyes never lost their intensity.
Declan kept his posture taut. He never broke his gaze with Rogi. “No, sir, I’m not. My daughter is missing and I’m not in a mood for games, nor do I have time for any. If you have business with us, please get on with it. If this is a social visit, then let it be just that.”
I didn’t take my eyes off of Rogi. I could feel Brae looking at me. I, too, hardened my posture and readied myself for whatever was to come next.
Rogi leaned back in his plush seat and seemed to relax at bit. He looked from Declan to me to Brae then back again. It seemed like hours passed before he said a word. He twisted his fingers like snakes around themselves. His eyes seemed to glass over and take on a blank stare at no one. It was as if he left his body and us alone at the table. I watched from the corner of my eye as our waitress approached to Rogi’s left, stopped abruptly and backed away.
I looked at Brae whose face was frozen in surprise. I turned my attention to my husband, who hadn’t moved a muscle, backed down nor wandered his eyes from Rogi. What the hell was going on?
I slowly lowered my wall to see if I could hear a silent conversation between Declan and anyone. There was chaos chattering loudly upon the air. Voices filled with fear bounced against my skull, though there were none that I recognized to be Declan’s. It was strange for this to be in Declan’s head. Everyone in the room seemed to be frozen in their last state except for me. Instead of fear trapping me, I began to get angry.
I stood suddenly and slammed my fists down upon the table causing the glasses full of water to jump and spill. The trance seemed to disappear from everyone’s face. And all eyes were narrowly upon me.
“I’ve had enough of this power trip, Rogi. I want to know what the fuck is going on and I want to know now! I have more important things to be doing,” I blurted out in a voice so full of anger it surprised even me.
His eyebrows raised a half an inch above his eyes in perfect arches. He stood to meet my glare at eye level. Declan quickly followed suit and moved a step closer to me. Brae was also quickly on her feet, but was chanting and walking back and forth behind Declan and I.
Rogi raised his hand, “No need for spells, witch. There will be no violence here tonight.” He sat back down and offered for us to do the same.
“No more proper etiquette stuff and power plays Rogi,” I began my lecture. “I am not one for fluff. I am a straight shooter. Business at hand, all cards on the table, please.”
Rogi nodded in compliance. We took our seats, Declan more slowly than Brae (who was relieved to be sitting again) and me.
“Straight shooter, you say,” Rogi began rhetorically. His voice grew firmer, “Fair enough. I will assume that since you keep company with a witch, you know about Bolton and Morticina’s… let’s call it heritage.”
Declan spoke up, “Vampire.”
Rogi nodded and continued, “What is yours?”
“Our what?” Declan asked him as he held out his hand in front of me to keep me quiet.
“Your heritage.”
“What concern is it of yours?”
Brae suddenly chimed in, “Please stop referring to me as witch. My name is Branwen and you will address me with respect.”
Rogi bowed his head, “My sincerest apologies, Ms. Brae.”
“Accepted.”
He turned back to Declan when he was satisfied that he had pacified my witch friend. I found that noteworthy.
“My concern is simple. I like to know what it is that I am dealing with.”
“What you are dealing with?” Declan and I asked in unison.
“Yes. What is your heritage?”
Declan looked at me. I blinked once to let him know I was okay with him answering.
“We are of Irish pixie heritage. What is yours?”
Rogi laughed out loud. “Please, I have had dealings with pixies before; you are not of pixie blood.”
I was taken back at his response; almost insulted. I let my face show my disapproval of his reaction. He, in turn, was surprised by my facial expression telling all.
“Believe what you will,” I answered. “That is our heritage.”
“And yours, Rogi?” Declan demanded.
The dapper man before us moved closer to the table, neatly folded his hands in front of himself and placed them gently on the table. “I, son, am Rogi Kilmoor, the oldest living and head vampire in Germany.”
He commanded silence with his stature to let his statement sink into our brains.
“So you can understand that no one and nothing comes into my territory without my knowing. It is my duty to make sure our society maintains a certain status quo, so to speak, and that the peace I have worked hard to establish remains intact.”
This time Declan sat back in his chair. He even crossed his legs. “Fair enough, my friend.”
Rogi went to speak, but I interrupted before he could get a word from his lips. “Why do you doubt our pixie heritage?”
He smiled, “I have had run-ins with pixies before. You don’t hold their call signs. You don’t hold their alluring charm nor scent. You don’t have their fairy aura. You aren’t so aloof to life.”
“Then what call signs do we hold?”
“I have met every supernatural this world has to offer during the course of my long life. Yours are none I have ever come across before. Actually, you have no one sign nor specific smell. You are puzzling to me.”
I looked to Declan. This time he blinked once.
“We are not full pixie. We are half human and half pixie,” I explained.
Rogi shook his head. “I don’t agree. That is not right. You have NO pixie attributes that I can detect.”
I laughed at him. “Well, it is true, and we are what we are.”
“How old are you, Rogi?” Brae asked quashing the argument before it started.
“I have walked this earth for over nine hundred years.”
“And your age when you began your walk?”
“I was created when I was fifty-eight human years.”
I had to flex my face muscles to keep my jaw from dropping. “Nine hundred and
fifty-eight years old?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Declan kept the conversation on its business track. “What is your concern with the Dethstares?”
“I have no issue with Bolton and Morticina. It is their son, Lucas, I have a problem with.”
“Go on,” Declan pushed.
Rogi seemed to hesitate. Declan assured him, “We know they are vampires. We knew the moment Ms. Evelyn took us to their gravesites.”
Revelation crossed his face as he realized the truth in my husband’s statement. I heard Brae as she mumbled a chant softly under her breath. I hoped silently to myself that Declan could keep Rogi so engrossed in conversation so he wouldn’t realize she was casting a spell.
“A long story,” Rogi began. “Here’s the short version. My grandson befriended their boys many years ago. Their friendship was grand, they were inseparable. My son passed on a, well let’s call it a secret discovery for my nation to the boys and Lucas exploited it. He took complete advantage of the knowledge, thus creating problems we have spent years trying to keep under control.”
Declan shook his head, “Too vague, Mr. Kilmoor. Please elaborate.”
“Why should I?”
“You brought us here for a fishing expedition. You are looking for information as to the whereabouts of Lucas or his family so you can get to him. You need us. You won’t get close to them any other way. If you want our help, I need to know details. We could be out searching for our daughter, not sitting here with you.”
Rogi’s face told of his displeasure of being challenged. But Declan was right.
“We help each other then?”
Declan cautiously smiled. “Depends. We provide help equally to each other. I don’t want to come out owing you, and I’m sure you don’t want to be indebted to me.”
While nodding his head up and down in agreement, Rogi took a deep breath before he began his tale, “True. So be it.