Chapter 34
While the Wainwrights went on about their lives, so did the vampires that knew them—friend, acquaintance, and whatever Vladislaus Straud was, depending on whether the perspective was from the Wainwrights’ or that of Vladislaus. One of their regular hangouts was a club in Forgotten Hollow, an old, defunct, and deconsecrated cathedral that was now a nightclub that had become a regular den of the denizens of the dark. Strangely, despite his broad influence in the town and proud status as the town’s oldest master vampire, Vladislaus Straud himself only showed up there periodically. While he enjoyed the company of other vampires, he found many aspects of the modern-day club scene distasteful, especially lowbrow trashy behavior from drunk mortals that he considered the equivalent of last resort fast food. Generally, he only went to such places to socialize with his fellow vampires, not dine.
His spawn Miss Hell was in town tonight, however, since she had messaged him that she would be there, so he stopped in. At least the bartenders made a good Plasma Jane. They were not vampires, but they were all in the know, and could be trusted to keep their dark secret. Every one of them was either on the take or a pet of one of the regulars. Lilith Vatore had literally charmed the pants of at least one. Vladislaus personally thought she could do better, but at least unlike her brother, she was using her powers as they were meant to be used and not whining while drinking fish and frog slop like her brother.
Speaking of my little disappointments, there they are, he thought as he spotted them with Kat Cave, Markus Crow, and Miss Hell at the other end of the bar. He picked up his newly mixed Plasma Jane and joined them.
Markus waved. “Hey, Vlad.”
“Vladdy! Long time no see,” Kat greeted him. “Missed you last time you were in Bridgeport.”
“He was probably too busy stalking someone who found him odious to say hello,” Lilith quipped.
“Oh, and it’s a pleasure to see you as well, my surly little protégé,” he retorted before addressing Markus and Kat, to whom he tipped his hat in a gentlemanly manner. “Markus, Kat. A delight as always. Speaking of, Kat, my dear, I hear you’ve had some wild nights of late. I hope Caleb here has been taking notes, though I’d advise a touch more subtlety. I’m always happy to help if you get into a fix and pull what strings I can, but Missy and I would hate to have to send such a fun one as you into hiding for too long.” He winked before turning to Caleb, and then Miss Hell, at the far end of the bar, behind him. “Caleb, Missy.”
“Glad you could make it, Vlad.” Miss Hell smiled. “I’ve been catching up with Caleb and I have a very interesting tidbit to tell you.”
Caleb frowned. “Come on. I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“Oh, but it’s so juicy! I just can’t help myself.”
Vlad raised an eyebrow, while Caleb’s frown deepened to a scowl. “So, I guess lawyer-client confidentiality means plum to you?”
“Ahem. Number one, my oath is to my client. My client is deceased. Any oaths I made and contracts I signed were with him. I’m in the process of settling the estate for said client and dealing with his son, named in said contract. I’m not sharing sensitive financial or private information about said deceased client or his wife in this conversation. One could argue that privilege doesn’t quite apply in this context. Especially regarding you being bent out of shape that the son of the deceased is the brother of the stalking victim of a vampire, an act that’s not exactly written in the law books and thus has no precedent.”
“I can’t believe you,” Lilith seethed, while Caleb sighed in frustration.
“Thanks. Thanks a heap.”
The Vatores’ reactions were all Vladislaus needed to confirm what Miss Hell was saying without her even saying a name. “So, you’ve been Jonathan Bronte’s lawyer this whole time? And you were their father’s?”
Miss Hell blinked innocently. “Now Vlad, you know I can’t confirm or deny who retained me. Privilege.”
“You sure as hell admitted who you’re stalking, though,” Lilith snapped at Vladislaus. “So maybe you should cut it out and leave the poor woman alone, for the Watcher’s sake.”
Vladislaus laughed. “The Watcher and I haven’t had a relationship in some time, my dear, so I’m not terribly concerned about that.”
“I have it on fairly good authority that Susan doesn’t want one with you, either, so maybe you ought to consider
that,” Caleb retorted.
“Yes, yes. Your opinion has been duly noted and given all the consideration it deserves. About as much as this.” He dumped his empty drink in the trash.
Caleb growled under his breath, and started to say something, but stopped when Lilith stood and took his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get some air. It’s gotten rather foul in here.”
Markus swirled his Plasma Jane. “Vlad, you know I’m cool with you most of the time, but it wouldn’t hurt to ease up on Lilith and Caleb a bit. They’re never going to embrace any of the old ways if you keep hammering them over the head with them like that.”
He side-eyed Markus. “Hmm. And what would you have me do, then? Sit by and watch them embarrass vampire kind as a whole acting like fools? Markus, my friend, you know I’ve got no problem with you most of the time. You’re a respectable vampire and you don’t preach foolish nonsense like acting like you’re still a weak human when you’re not. I understand that you’re fond of some mortals. Some vampires are. But you know the difference. Those fools do not. Well, Caleb doesn’t seem to. Lilith, perhaps she’s learning. Her idiot brother, on the other hand, needs to be whipped into shape, and she’s still insolent as well.” He sipped his drink and eyed him sharply before continuing. “That said, I’m also aware that Caleb recruited you in his little scheme to try and undermine me from dining on Susan Wainwright whenever I please. I don’t know why you’ve chosen to involve yourself in that, nor do I particularly care. So far, I’m not aware of you doing more than talking to them. Fine. Talk to them all you want. Befriend them if you like. Perhaps you might even help convince Susan to join us someday. Her husband, too, would be welcome. They’re intelligent and would make interesting additions to our community. Regardless, there’s nothing you can tell them about me that I’m concerned about. But if you cross the line and get in my way,” he warned, his eyes gleaming ominously, “I won’t take it lightly.”
“Relax. I’m not out to make any enemies. Out of you, or the scientists.” He chuckled. “But I wonder why you obsess so much about certain mortals like that. It’s not like there aren’t a ton of others out there ripe for the biting with a lot less effort and a little finesse.” He looked at the bartender, one of his own pets. Filip was one of those who had an obsessive love of expensive steak and bacon, and his plasma reflected that. Markus not only tipped him well to keep his lips sealed about their secret and for regular bites, but also paid for a monthly subscription to a gourmet food delivery service that provided him with that. Not only did it get his confidentiality, but it also got Markus top-notch Plasma Janes and a hearty drink just before he left the club.
It was just around that point in the conversation that a very curious and famous Dirk Dreamer came over. “So, I ordered this Plasma Jane drink that seems to be so popular and, uh… what’s in it? Because it’s kind of…?”
“Weird?” finished Filip the bartender.
“Yeah.” He eyed them oddly. “I didn’t think it had actual plasma in it, but…”
“Plasma fruit, my dear boy,” Vladislaus informed him. “It’s an acquired taste for a distinguished palate.”
“Hey, you can’t imply a celebrity here’s not distinguished,” Markus joked. “Not cool.”
“It’s okay,” Miss Hell teased back. “It’s just a comment on the lack of top hat.” She tapped hers. “You know Vlad and I are just old school.”
Dirk eyed them strangely. “So, you acquire the taste by drinking… plasma? Er, plasma fruit? Well, I guess this is kind of a goth club. Goes with the theme.” He took his drink and wandered back out to the dance floor.
Kat raised an eyebrow as he left. “You know that guy is all over social media, right? Not just a celebrity, but a geeky tech celebrity genius type? He’s going to put two and two together about us real quick, if he hasn’t already, and probably blast it all over the internet. If he hasn’t already updated from his phone.”
They looked over. “He’s still got the Plasma Jane in his hand and the poor thing looks mildly ill from it,” remarked Miss Hell.
“Dumb llama mortal.” Markus chuckled. “If it sucks, why drink it?”
Vladislaus nearly spat out his drink despite the vulgar humor. “That’s what I tell Caleb all the time, but he never listens.”
That garnered a chuckle from all three of them before the mood grew serious again. “Seriously, though, want me to go take care of it? I can go put the fear of the undead into him right now. Rare is the mortal stupid enough to speak up after a good Kat Cave style warning.”
Miss Hell looked him over and shook her head. “No. I think that one could do with a simple mind-wipe or charm. I can take care of it.” She started to stand, but Vladislaus finished his drink, set it on the bar, and stopped her.
“Not necessary. I’ll handle him. I’m rather peckish and that fellow had a promising scent. I suspect he’s got a good profile.”
“And you said you never dine in places like this,” Miss Hell teased.
“Even I slum it occasionally, my dear. Just like our four-star celebrity Mr. Dreamer.”
“Bon appétit,” she replied, while the other two watched him go, equally amused.
On his way to chase down Dirk Dreamer, Vladislaus noticed another mortal side-eying him. He paused, and recalled that she had been beside Miss Hell ordering a drink when the Vatores were whining about her telling him about the coincidence of Susan’s brother having her handle their father’s estate. His ancient vampire powers picked up on a sense of unease from her and he discerned that it was from Caleb and Lilith calling him a stalker. Worse, she recognized him as the esteemed Vladislaus Straud, because they had used his name and this was
his town, with
his grand statue in the square. Well, his “great-grandfather’s,” but still.
He silently cursed his spawn and grand-spawn’s petty lack of discretion. Now he had another mess to clean up, and an entirely unnecessary one, thanks to those fools. Not that he particularly cared what mortals thought of him, but Forgotten Hollow was his home, and he would not have mere human nobodies in the club spreading unsavory rumors about him in his hometown, where he paid his taxes and owned several politicians.
It would serve them right if I thralled her and brought her downstairs to them to feed on themselves. Spill her blood a bit and the scent might be too much for them to resist, especially if I offer it to Kat to finish if they refuse. She would be far less gentle on an “innocent” at my command, and Missy would gladly help force them to watch. While Miss Hell had a better relationship with Caleb than he did, as the one who turned him, she also found his and Lilith’s pity-the-mortals moralizing tedious and eye-rolling, and she also hoped he would get over it someday.
But after a moment, he decided a simple memory alteration would suffice this time. Perhaps such a lesson could be arranged for Caleb alone in the future if this nonsense continued. He did not want to alienate Lilith further when she was already in a foul mood when she had recently taken strides toward the darker side, and risk undoing that progress. Why, only a few weeks ago, she let herself get a bit too hungry and slipped, he heard. Romancing some poor mortal sap in a place like this, cozying up to him on the dance floor, taking him alone somewhere, only to find out he was more talk than action when it came to the nitty-gritty of the naughty biting part. Apparently, she nipped him and drank a bit anyway, before her guilt overcame her hunger and stopped her. Then, she used her powers to make him forget the details and think it was a simple accident, rationalizing to herself that’s all it was anyway. She had not
meant to. But Vladislaus knew the truth. She had. All vampires meant it. Those who didn’t, like her and Caleb, were just fools that lied to themselves.
After using his mind powers on the eavesdropper to stop her, he casually strode over. “You heard nothing worth repeating when you saw me at the bar. No gossip. Just some friends talking. You don’t even know who we are or remember what we look like. In fact, you barely remember even being here. Those drinks were quite strong.”
“Strong drinks,” she murmured. “I don’t remember anything.”
“Good. You never will. In fact, this place was not to your taste at all. You won’t even want to come back.”
“No. Won’t come back.”
“Very wise. You know that’s for the best,” he said kindly, and broke his spell to allow her to move again only after he rounded the corner and ducked out of sight.
Vladislaus did not have to wait long for the opportune moment to take care of the Dirk Dreamer problem. After he finished his Plasma Jane, he did not pull out his phone, but decided to try and dance off the ill feeling it left him with. It did not work, and a few minutes later, he left the dance floor and headed for the restroom. Vladislaus shifted into dark form and pounced on Dirk the moment he was alone in a stony corridor on the way there.
“What the…? Holy plum!” Dirk was horrified as he saw Vladislaus like that, eyes alit with an unnatural and hungry glow, fangs bared, coming at him. “I knew it.” He backed up. “I knew there were real freaking vampires here. Oh—”
“Oh, you won’t be in any condition to tell anyone that, I’m afraid.” Vladislaus used the full force of his powers on the frightened tech celebrity, who he could sense was terrified in that moment that he was actually going to kill him.
Now that Dirk was frozen, Vladislaus leaned toward him menacingly, so that he could see him in every bit of his evil and powerful glory. “Do you think you’re too famous to die, Mr. Dreamer? But tragically, young celebrities like you meet unfortunate ends in seedy places like this all the time. Too many drinks, too many… illicit substances in the system… even brilliant ones like you not known as the ‘party animal’ types as you mortals these days call it. Why, even sometimes it’s not unexpected that ones under pressure like you, working so hard, they burn out, they cut loose and unwind, they go too far…” His lips curled into a smug smile, exposing more of his fangs. “At least, that’s what the police report will say. I should know. I’m very influential in this town. They don’t question my word. What a sad end for a promising young man, and a tarnish on what would be your legacy. No. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”
Dirk just blinked at him, his heart pounding in terror while mentally he pleaded with Vladislaus and whatever forces were listening for his life.
“Of course, you don’t. But since I can tell you’ve seen the
grievous error of your ways in thinking that you might tell the world about what transpired here tonight, and because I respect a man of your intelligence and station, Mr. Dreamer, I believe you won’t make a very stupid choice if I allow you to survive this time. So, I’ll give you that chance. I suggest you be grateful and heed my warning. You will not get a second.”
With that, Vladislaus grabbed Dirk and sank his fangs deeply into his neck. Just like he suspected, his four-star blood was at least four-star dining, if not better. It was not among what he considered the top tier, like poor Susan, but good enough that he was now tied with the delicious Diego Lobo on his San Myshuno list. That was where Dirk was living and worked now, and Vladislaus would certainly be by not only to partake, but to make sure he was behaving himself. If so much as a hint about him or encounters like this with vampires in Forgotten Hollow started showing up in his social media accounts, he would be taken care of quickly. Miss Hell, Kat, and Markus all lived in that city, too, so there would be dark eyes on him from here on out.
“I must say, your plasma has a deliciously sweet taste to it, Mr. Dreamer. A fine vintage. I’ll certainly be back to see you again.” He met Dirk’s heavily lidded eyes as he wobbled from exhaustion. “How much and how roughly I take it depends on how well you hold up your end of the bargain. Just remember that no matter how tasty you are, like all mortals, you are replaceable.” He started to let him go, and then paused. “Oh, and if you get ideas about stopping me or evading me, well, I’ll just say I’ve been doing this for a very, very long time, and you’d be far from the first bright little mortal who thought he was clever enough to do so and found out the hard way how wrong he was.”
With that, he stepped back and watched as Dirk fell and slumped over onto the hard floor, unconscious, looking rather like the stereotype of how Vladislaus described his unseemly demise might be written up if he was actually dead, and if not for the fang marks on the side of his neck.
Caleb came around the corner just in time to see Vladislaus change back into his human form over the unconscious Dirk Dreamer.
“Wow. Did you really just chow down on Dirk Dreamer right here in the club?” He regarded him with utter disgust. “What about your oh-so-dignified palate and not eating in ‘trashy’ places like this?”
“A vampire that considers frog blood with fresh squeezed plasma juice and a touch of parsley a delicacy hardly has the room to make judgments on my taste.”
“I’m making a judgment on your behavior, and your hypocrisy,” he retorted contemptuously. “I couldn’t even begin to count the times you’ve insulted me and Lilith for finding willing ‘fast food’ at the clubs, not to mention all the jabs at Missy for meeting me in one, but just earlier tonight you gave Kat plum for lack of subtlety for when she went wild on someone in public. And then you turn around and do this to someone famous, like that’s not going to get a whole bunch of attention we don’t need. In a club in our hometown, no less! You’re unbelievable!”
Utterly unimpressed, Vladislaus adopted a mock expression of contrition. “Dear me, the high and mighty Caleb Vatore doesn’t approve of what I’m doing. Whatever shall I do and however will I sleep during the day?” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s right. Snugly in my coffin with my toasty bunny slippers, having sweet dreams of enjoying delicious mortal plasma while you dig in the mud for whatever it is you call food, with your hunger crying out to you in your self-inflicted misery while martyring yourself in pointless self-righteousness.”
Caleb groaned, ready to tear his hair out, which was not an unusual feeling when he dealt with Vladislaus. “So typical of you. So arrogant. You don’t give a plum how what you do affects anyone else! You just do whatever you want and rationalize it.”
“Did I hurt your feelings, dear grand-spawn? My apologies. But you’ve got no room to talk about arrogance when you’re preaching so much, you’d think this was still a cathedral and not a nightclub. I’d tell you to take a hard look in the mirror if it would do any good.”
“You don’t get it! For someone who’s so concerned about what the community thinks, why on Earth would you think biting a tech celebrity, someone who’s all over social media, wouldn’t be a huge risk?” Caleb looked down, relieved that Dirk was still breathing and that Vladislaus had not killed him, but also anxious because of the attention he could bring to their community once he woke up.
Vladislaus straightened, highly insulted. “Do you really think I’m foolish enough to feed on Mr. Dreamer right here in the club like this without good reason? Then you’ve underestimated me yet again. No wonder you can never win a spar against me. I think that swamp slop you drink is starting to affect your intelligence, and for all of your other flaws, one thing I did not believe you were was stupid. Naïve, misguided, and far too attached to your lost mortality, absolutely. But stupid? No. Not that you deserve an explanation, but in fact, Mr. Dreamer here was a risk before I tracked him down.”
“What do you mean?”
“After you and your sister left in a huff, he came to the bar and overheard too much, asked a few too many questions, and then drank a Plasma Jane. We knew who he was, and it was clear he was drawing conclusions. He needed to be silenced, and our dear friend Kat was chomping at the bit for a chance at him. Perhaps you’d have preferred I let her handle it instead? Known for her subtlety as she is?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No, but you could’ve just mind-wiped him.”
“This was just as effective, and besides, I was hungry. Fear not. I wasn’t seen, and he won’t talk. Not if he wants to live through a second bite.”
“Vlad…”
“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “This conversation is over. Don’t worry your poor little bleeding heart about Mr. Dreamer. He’ll wake up in a little while and be just fine. He’s a bright fellow. Go and take him to a couch if you feel so bad for him, so his four-star behind can nap in peace. But don’t dally too long. After all, the poor aggrieved Wainwrights need you more, don’t they?”
Caleb sighed. “You know, every time I think you might have a shred of decency hiding in you somewhere, you have to go and open your mouth and prove me wrong.”
“Ah, yes, dear grand-disappointment, I love you, too. Now go on and tend to your latest injured stray like a good boy. The night is still young, and I’m invigorated after a hearty drink. You should try it sometime. It’d do you good.”
