In the Company of Vampires

Chapter 22

The town was, as Ben predicted, a gridlocked nightmare, the huge parade of floats and costumed performers that would wind through town and end up at an open-air amphitheater already under way, which meant much of the town was blocked off by both barricades and dense streams of people.

Ben had to resort to driving up on sidewalks a couple of times, scattering people as he slowly made his way around the edges until he was clear of the town proper, and into the neighborhood that looked down on the town.

The parade must be running through here, too, I commented as we zipped along the winding road that led to de Marco’s house. Barricades lined the street, and people were already gathering outside their houses, setting up coolers and portable chairs.

That’s just what we need. Hopefully we’ll have your mother and be able to leave before it gets to us, Ben said, skillfully zipping around obstructions, barriers, and the occasional traffic cop directing neighborhood residents. Is that it?

Yes. I don’t see David’s car.

He wouldn’t park here where de Marco could see. Ben stopped next to the square fountain.

My eyes strayed to the gargoyle-like projections from the side of the house. I shivered at the glint of the runes emphasized by the light pouring out of the windows. It was as if they glowed slightly in the thick night air, giving a sinister feel to an already charged atmosphere.

In the distance, coming from the valley below, the faint sounds of music and drums could be heard as the parade started to wind its way through the neighborhoods. I looked up at the house as I got off the bike and wondered if my mother was in it, or if de Marco had his hidden love nest elsewhere.

“Do we wait for David?” I asked in a whisper, feeling the Vikingahärta grow warm beneath my shirt.

Ben cocked his head for a second as if he was listening, then shook it. “I would prefer to get Miranda out of de Marco’s keeping before David arrives to deal with him.”

“Deal with him how?” I caught a sense of concern in Ben that had me opening my eyes in surprise. David is going to attack de Marco?

So he says. He hasn’t explained to me all his reasoning yet, but I believe he’s found a link between Luis’s death and de Marco. It will be safer for you and your mother to be out of the way before David rallies his pride members.

A vision of Luis’s mangled body rose before my unwilling eyes, and I shuddered at the thought of what the entire pride could do to a person, immortal or not. I agree with the sentiment, but are we going to be able to get to Mom without any help?

We won’t know unless we try, he said with what I had to admit was wisdom.

Before I could do so much as offer up a prayer to the god and goddess, Ben banged the huge hanged-man door knocker, the sound of it reverberating through the night, a deep, mournful sound that was counterpointed by the livelier noise of the parade as it progressed up the hill.

The door opened quickly. Ben tensed, then relaxed when he saw who answered the knock.

“Hello, Ulfur. This is Benedikt Czerny, my . . . er . . . Dark One. Ben, this is Ulfur, the lich who took the Vikingahärta. We’d like to see Alphonse de Marco.”

Ulfur’s lips formed a thin line, his eyes going flat. “He isn’t here.”

“That makes things easier,” I told Ben.

“Perhaps,” was all he said.

I trained a razor-edged gaze on Ulfur. “Since your boss isn’t present, I’d like my mother, if you don’t mind.”

Ulfur blinked at me in a way that expressed utter confusion. “Your mother?”

“Miranda Ghetti. She’s being kept here, isn’t she?”

His face went completely blank.

“Ulfur?”

He just stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes.

What just happened? I asked Ben.

I think that’s confirmation that your mother is here, and not somewhere else.

Oh, you mean he can’t lie the way you can’t lie to me?

Not quite the same thing, but probably it’s along the same line. Do you know his surname?

Um. I searched my memory. Hallursson, I think. Why?

“Ulfur Hallursson,” Ben said in a deep, intimidating voice, putting his hand on Ulfur’s head, as Ulfur’s eyes grew big. “You will tell us what we want to know. Where is the witch named Miranda?”

What on earth are you doing? Magicking him?

Kind of. I’m laying a compulsion on him.

You can do that?

Only with certain types of beings. Liches, luckily, are one of those who are susceptible.

Ulfur opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then awkwardly pointed behind him, toward the staircase.

“That’s all I need to know,” I said, pulling out the Vikingahärta and holding it in my hand as I pushed past him into the hall. “There may be a demon around, Ben. There was earlier, but the Vikings sent him back to Abaddon.”

Ben didn’t wait to examine the hallway; he took the stairs three at a time. I ran after him, stopping at the top of the stairs to bellow, “Mom? Are you here?”

My voice echoing down the hallway was all the response we got.

“Miranda?” Ben yelled, even louder than me.

We both listened intently, but heard nothing.

I looked down the stairs to where Ulfur stood silently watching us. “Is she on this floor?”

He just looked at me.

Ben asked him the same question. Evidently the compulsion was still strong enough to cause Ulfur to shake his head.

“Up another flight.” We hurried up the flight to the third floor, repeating the process of calling for my mother. Again we were met with silence.

“There’s only the attic left,” I told Ben as we stood at the foot of a narrow flight of stairs.

“Up we go.”

The door to the attic was locked, but Ben resolved that situation by simply kicking down the door.

“Mom? Are you here?” I asked as I brushed past Ben, coughing slightly on the dusty air that met his assault.

The attic, too, was empty of life.

“I don’t get it,” I said, slapping my hands on my legs in irritation. “Ulfur pointed this way, didn’t he?”

Ben rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful, his eyes narrowed on nothing. “Use the Vikingahärta.”

“Huh?”

“You said it’s changed twice since you reclaimed it. Perhaps it has been doing that to reflect your needs.”

“Since when does it change itself to suit me?” I asked.

“It represents the Fates. No doubt it’s changing itself to be what you need it to be. Try using it to find your mother.”

I looked down at the three metal intertwined triangles that lay in my hand. “Find my mom,” I told it.

It did nothing, just lay inert on my palm.

“Use it, Francesca. Make it do what you want it to do.”

I focused my thoughts on my mother, then grabbed Ben’s hand as I willed the Vikingahärta to find my mother.

It glowed with an amber light for a moment, then suddenly I was running down three flights of stairs to the ground floor.

Where is she?

There, I said, stopping at the side of the stairs. A faint outline of a door built into the staircase was visible.

Ulfur did nothing as Ben broke it down. Before the last piece of shattered wood hit the ground, I stuck my head through the remains of the door and called out, “Mom? Are you there?”

“Franny?”

Relief swept over me like a warm blanket, tears pricking painfully behind my eyes as, heedless of the sharp bits of wood, I pushed into the recess. It turned out to be a landing of a flight of narrow stone stairs that led downward. “Are you decent? Is de Marco there? Are you hurt? Ben is here, so if you need healing, he’ll take care of you.”

“Am I hurt? Franny, what are you talking about?”

I skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, Ben right behind me. I had half expected some sort of a honeymoon suite, with a heart-shaped bed and mirror on the ceiling, but what met my eyes was a beautifully tiled floor covered with expensive-looking cream and old rose rugs, matching cream furniture, a grand piano, a large-screen plasma TV, and floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a breathtaking view of the town below. My mother sat on the couch with a couple of books, a glass of wine dangling from one hand.

“You’re not brainwashed?” I asked without thinking.

“Brainwashed? Of course I’m not.” Her gaze slid past me to Ben, a frown pulling down her brows. “I would ask you what you are doing in Heidelberg, but I see the answer. Good evening, Benedikt.”

“Miranda.” Ben made one of his polished bows, the kind that never failed to make me want to jump him. “We are glad to see you are not harmed.”

“Mom, what are you doing here? Are you a prisoner?” I looked around the room. Subdued lighting emphasized various paintings and works of art. The whole place reeked of good taste and money.

“You aren’t making the least bit of sense, Fran.” She set down her glass of wine. “I think perhaps you are upset. Why don’t you sit down and tell me what has you in such a fidget? And why is Benedikt here, when you told me you’d cut all ties with him?”

Ben? What’s going on?

I have no idea. But she mentioned Heidelberg.

So?

I wonder . . . He didn’t complete the thought, and I didn’t have the mental agility to follow what my mother was saying and try to pry into his hidden thoughts to see exactly what it was he was wondering.

I sat across from her on an overstuffed love seat, Ben beside me. “I don’t quite know where to start.”

Her gaze flickered to Ben. “I think you should start with what you’re doing here in Germany.”

“I came to find you when I realized that you had disappeared and no one knew where you were.”

“Nonsense. I told Peter and Imogen and Absinthe that I was going into Heidelberg for a long weekend, and would be back on Tuesday.”

“Yes, but that was a week ago.”

“A week ago? It’s only Sunday,” she said, shaking her head and giving me a worried look. “Franny, where is your mind? Has Benedikt done something to you? Has he put some sort of a glamour on you?”

“No, but I’m beginning to think someone has placed one on you,” I said slowly. “You think we’re in Heidelberg?”

“We are in Heidelberg,” she corrected, nodding toward the window. “You can see that for yourself.”

“Er . . . yeah.” What has de Marco done to her?

Obviously put some sort of glamour on her to keep her unaware of both her surroundings and the time that’s passed.

Why would he do that?

I don’t know, but I’d prefer we figure it out away from this house. David will no doubt be here soon, he answered, glancing at his watch.

Gotcha. “Mom, we have to go.”

“Go? Go where?” she asked as I stood up and urged her to her feet. She was wearing some sort of silk amber-colored lounging pajamas, but I couldn’t wait to collect her things. “Fran, what do you think you’re doing? Stop pushing me!”

Can you do the mind thing on her?

Not on mortals, no.

That’s a shame. “We have to get out of here. There’s . . . uh . . . a terrorist attack going to happen,” I improvised.

“Terrorists!”

“Yeah. Really nasty ones with bombs. We have to scoot now.”

She argued with us all the way up the stairs, managing to stop us at the top. “Francesca Marie! I insist that you stop this! Before I go another single step, I want him to leave. I don’t trust him, and I know he’s behind all of your strange notions.” She pointed at Ben.

I sighed. “You’d better learn to trust him, because I’m really and truly his Beloved now.”

She gasped. “You didn’t—”

“Yes, I Joined with him. We’re bound together for eternity now, Mom. I love him with every ounce of my being, and none of the things I see you are about to say are going to change that. Now can we please leave? You can yell at both of us later, once we’re out of here.”

“Oh, Fran,” she said, disappointment dripping from her voice as she shook her head at me. “I’ve lost you. I’ve truly lost you.”

“Oh, for the love of the goddess . . . Vikingahärta! Do something!”

I had no idea what it was I expected it to do, but the second I lifted it, Mom gave a little sigh and slumped toward the floor. Ben caught her before she hit it.

“Bullfrogs! Is she okay?” I asked, reaching for her pulse.

“Yes. Just unconscious.” His lips quirked. “I’d say it’s for the best, but I doubt if you’d see it that way.”

“On the contrary, it’s exactly what we need. Can you carry her?”

He hefted her limp form in his arms, starting toward the front door. Ulfur stood at it, watching us with his eerily black eyes.

“Move, please, Ulfur,” I said, trying to open the door for Ben. Oh, goddess! How are we going to get her out of here on your bike?

I’ll hold her. You drive.

I didn’t like the idea much, but didn’t see any other answer to the situation. “Ulfur, move.”

“He’s not here,” Ulfur said in a loud voice, then looked over his shoulder at the door.

“Huh?”

“The master.” Ulfur held my gaze. “He’s not here.” He turned and looked at the door again.

What . . . ?

He’s telling us something, Beloved.

“Great. Just great. How are we going to get out of here if de Marco is lurking outside just waiting for us to leave?”

“We are going to have to face him.” He set Mom down onto a wooden bench next to the door, pausing for a second before adding, “You will need to guard her.”

“I will, but don’t for one minute think I have forgotten the fact that de Marco wants you for his experiments. I’m not going to let you take him on by yourself.”

Ben grinned as he opened the door. “I won’t be alone.”

A blast of noise hit us, my jaw dropping as I looked in astonishment at the sight of the battle that was going on in the courtyard. It was as if an all-out war had broken out at a zoo—wolves in every sort of color were pouring into the courtyard, attacking anything that moved.

“Are those real wolves or therion wolves?”

“Feral therions.”

“Holy jumping saints! It’s Eirik and the Vikings! And lions! And . . . is that the parade?”

“Goddess! Dark One!” Eirik, covered in blood and grinning madly, stopped hacking a gray blob on the ground. “We are here! Just in time for the battle, yes? You wish a sword, Dark One?”

“If you have one to spare,” Ben said, and to Inner Fran’s secret delight, Ben took up the bloody sword Eirik tossed him.

“If you get hurt using that—” I started to say, but at that moment, Ben leaped forward when a brown and gray wolf, spotting us in the doorway, lunged at me.

I love you too, Beloved.

“Goddess! It’s a good thing we bought you a beheading ax in town,” Isleif said, panting as he stopped before me, brandishing a small camping ax. “The Dark One said you would need it.”

I took the ax he shoved in my hands. “Ben said that? When did he say that?”

“This evening, while you were having your supper. He sent us on ahead to get our weapons and lay in wait for the evil one to show.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” I thought you didn’t want an all-out attack force?

I didn’t, but felt it would be wise to have one in reserve, should they become necessary. I believe this qualifies as necessary.

Yeah, well, you could have told me that. I’m going to have a few things to say to you once this is over, buster.

Stop talking to your Vikings and protect your mother.

I knew full well that what he really meant was to stay out of harm’s way, but since someone did have to keep an eye on Mom, I decided it wasn’t worth arguing about. Besides, I had to admit that the sight of Ben in black jeans and a plum-colored shirt battling what appeared to be ravaging wolves was a sight to make any woman melt with girlish admiration. Four members of David’s pride were also in full attack mode, their roars and snarls as they fought the wolves adding to the general sense of chaos. But it was when the first of the parade floats came level to the circular drive of de Marco’s house that things really got weird.

The float was supposed to depict some sort of scene on a river, with girls in scanty mermaid costumes bearing gold tridents, perched on papier-mâché rocks around a glittery river made up of sparkly blue sequins. A man with a huge sword and horned helm stood at the top of a waterfall that consisted of streamers of blue and white crepe paper. A sign made out of painted violet pebbles spelled out “San Francisco Queer Opera Co. Supports Brustwarze.” As they started past the drive, one of the mermaids pointed and yelled in a deep bass voice, “Look, girls! PR opportunity! Let’s join the fun!”

“Someone get the digital camcorder! We’ll be the hit of YouTube!” another mermaid yelled, and in a couple of seconds all eight of the hairy-chested mermaids clambered off the float and had joined the fray, yelling and shouting happily to one another, walloping both wolves and lions indiscriminately with their tridents, as all the while the helmed guy stood on his float stomping his feet and screaming for them to come back and not leave him alone.

Do you see de Marco anywhere? Ben asked me, distracting me from the dazzling sight of the attacking mermaids.

No. Are we sure he’s here? Watch out!

Ben ducked as a wolf leaped over the back of what looked like David, almost knocking Ben down at the same time. Your lich friend said he was.

Ulfur! I turned from where I was guarding the door and confronted him. “Ulfur, where’s your boss?”

He said nothing, his eyes sad.

“Please, Ulfur. I know that he’s put some sort of compulsion on you not to tell us anything, but this is important. He’s done something to my mom and I have to know what, so I can reverse it. Please tell me.”

Ulfur shook his head.

“Please, Ulfur. Please help me. I swear to you that we will do our best to get you released from him, but in order to do that, you have to help us now.”

He shuddered, closing his eyes for a second, his face twisted in agony as he pointed to the left. “Chapel.”

“Thank you.” Impulsively, I leaned forward to hug him. “Thank you. Isleif! Come and guard my mother!”

“Goddess?”

Isleif paused in the act of hacking off the head of a dead therion in wolf form. I yelled for Eirik and Finnvid, likewise in the heat of the battle, and then sent out a call to Ben. Ulfur says he’s in the chapel. That must be the creepy building that the gargoyles sprout from.

Francesca! You must stay with your mother!

Isleif is with her. Hurry up! I need you!

Ben muttered to himself as he fought his way over to me, his sword flashing silver and red in the light from the windows.

I can hear that, you know! And you aren’t going to have a next Beloved, so just buck up and come help me get a little payback before David finds out where de Marco is.

The four of us raced around the side of the stone building that had evidently been added on to the main house at a later date, since the stone was a darker color. Several wolfy therions followed us, but Ben and the Vikings took care of them quickly. I couldn’t bring myself to harm them, knowing that even though they were happily trying to kill us, somewhere in their furry form, a human being resided.

They aren’t human anymore, Beloved. Their minds are now in de Marco’s control.

All that much more payback he has coming to him, then.

Agreed.

Ben and Eirik broke down the door to the chapel. The darkness inside was lit only by candles, the flames of which jumped and danced with the swirl of air as we rushed in. At the far end, a man stood with a familiar-looking woman.

“Naomi,” I said, clutching the Vikingahärta in one hand and my axe in the other. “Why am I not surprised.”

She spat out something I took to be not at all complimentary. De Marco spun around, his face black with anger.

“You have interfered with me for the last time!” he bellowed, his voice making dust fall from the chapel rafters. He lifted his hand just as Ben jumped forward to protect me, but it wasn’t de Marco that worried me. Naomi, her eyes spitting fury, stood silent and still for a moment, obviously gathering power. A silvery white glow formed between her hands, and I knew without a single doubt in my mind that she was going to blast Ben with it, completely destroying him.

I couldn’t live without him. Not now. Not ever, really. I might have fooled myself into thinking I could, but I knew now that our lives were too tightly bound to ever be separated.

I don’t remember moving at all. One minute I was at the door with Eirik and Finnvid; the next I threw myself forward, knocking Ben aside, but leaving myself standing where he had been. Naomi shrieked and the silver light pulsed forward, slamming into me with a force that sent me flying backward six feet into the chapel wall.

Ben called out my name, but as the light enveloped me, I was content I’d saved him.