16. Valtu #2
I shake that off and leave the room. My bedroom is located up one of the towers, so it’s a long narrow flight of stairs down to the maze of lower hallways beneath where her room is located.
I believe my bedroom was once used as a chapel, and the disciples would have to pilgrimage up the stairs, but I’ve seen no signs of salvation in there.
When I get to her door, the candles on the walls flickering as I pass them, I’m surprised to see it ajar. A wash of fear stiffens my chest and I quickly push the door open, expecting the worst.
Her bed is messy but empty and there’s no sign of blood or a massacre.
I exhale in relief, looking around. I should probably go and find her but instead I go straight for her bags, hoping to find some sort of clue to who she is.
I rifle through her clothes, none of which seem appropriate for the mountains, but then again vampires never really need warm outfits.
There’s nothing else there though, in there or in her purse. No phone, no wallet.
I see her coat rumpled on the floor and pick it up, finding her wallet in one pocket and her passport in another. I flip the passport open and see her pretty face all serious in black and white overlayed with identity holograms.
Rose Harper.
Born May 19 th , 2023.
San Francisco, California.
A true west coaster.
Her wallet gives the same information, except her driver’s license has her address in Newport, Oregon.
I guess she has been telling the truth. I’m pretty good at seeing through fake documents and the like and these seem as legitimate as anything.
The fact that I can’t seem to find a phone though feels odd.
I go through the rest of the wallet, trying to see what I can glean, but it’s the type just made for holding her money and key cards, all under her name as well.
The only clue I have is a key card for the Hotel Vertigo in San Francisco, but that doesn’t strike me as too strange considering that’s the city she was born in.
Perhaps she has family or friends there and goes back often.
Though for some reason, Rose strikes me as a lone wolf.
I put everything back and am about to head back out into the hall when I see a black bag shoved behind the sink’s faucet.
I step into the bathroom and retrieve it, looking inside.
It’s cold to touch and when I open it, chilled air seeps out.
There are blood pills inside, a kind I’ve never seen before, no doubt given to her by the doctor.
Exhaling in disappointment, I shake my head, then I turn the bag over the toilet and watch the pills fall out into the bowl, and flush them down. Now she won’t have a choice.
I go back out into the hall and start looking around for her.
I finally find her in the living room, sitting primly by the fire and staring at the flames.
She doesn’t seem to hear me approaching and I take a moment to take her in.
She’s dressed for our dinner, wearing a green dress with thin straps over her shoulders, making her pale skin glow.
Her hair is down, waving around her shoulders and looking like amber on fire, thanks to the roaring flames.
She’s absolutely stunning, the kind of beauty that feels like a punch to the gut.
“Rose Harper of 267 Cliff Street, Newport, Oregon,” I say from behind her.
She whips her head around, caught off guard, her eyes wide and mouth open, hand pressed at her chest.
“How long have you been standing there?” she says breathlessly.
“Not long.”
Then she frowns, realizing what I’ve said. “How did you know my address?”
“I went through your wallet,” I tell her, not ashamed in the slightest.
She looks aghast. “Why?”
“Why not? I like to know as much about my guests as possible. You can never be too careful.”
Now there’s a hint of a smile on her lips, making her eyes dance in the firelight. “I can see that. Why else would you have a demon as a guard dog?”
There’s something that’s been nagging at me for the last few days. “You called that demon the bad thing. You never did tell me how you knew that name.”
I study her carefully but she remains composed. “Doesn’t everyone know that name? That’s what the rest of the world calls it. You can’t keep that thing a secret. You know it’s part of your mystique .”
I nod, liking the sound of that. I hold out my arm in offering. “Why don’t you tell me more about this mystique over dinner.”
Her brows go up in surprise. “We’re eating already?” She cranes her neck to look over at the dining room table and the kitchen. “I haven’t seen you prepare anything.”
“Never underestimate a vampire with a magic book,” I tell her as she gets up and comes over to me.
She takes my arm, giving a look that’s both shy and warm, like I just presented her with a bouquet of flowers instead of my arm, and I try to ignore the pleasurable feeling it creates in my chest. I lead her to the table where I pull out her chair and she sits down.
“You sit and behave,” I tell her, pushing in her chair before heading to the kitchen.
“Don’t tell me you use magic to prepare your food,” she says, sounding less than impressed.
“Actually,” I say, opening the fridge and bringing the premade charcuterie boards out onto the counter, “it was the deli people at the Aldi in Mittenwald.”
I shut the fridge and take the boards over to her and place them on the table. She looks them over, finally impressed. “You hike up and down the mountain with your groceries?”
I nod my head toward the front door. “There’s a cable car on the other side of the peak out there. Easy to get a ride up and down if you know how to cloak yourself.”
She laughs. “Must be fun being an invisible man, even if you are just getting wine and cheese,” she says as I walk back to the counter to pick up a bottle of cab sav. “Ever think of teaching your guests some of your tricks?”
“Nice try,” I tell her, unscrewing the bottle. “I can’t tell you the number of people who think I’m about to give them all my secrets.”
“They’re not really your secrets. They’re the book’s.”
I give her a steady look. “And the book lets me know what it wants me to know. No one else. That’s not part of the deal,” I tell her, taking out the cork with a satisfying pop.
“What is the deal?”
I shrug and pour us both a glass of the wine. Usually I don’t like discussing the book, but I feel I can divulge a little with her. “I’m not really sure. I just know that it feels safe with me, and it gives me the information I need.”
“So you’ve memorized every spell in the book?”
“Every spell I’ve been able to,” I admit. “It doesn’t show me everything. Half the book is just blank pages. Over the years spells will appear in ink, but lately the book seems to think I’ve gotten all I need to know.”
She thinks that over as I take the seat across from her. “And do you? Do you have all you need to know?”
“I’m starting to think so.” The whole reason I took the book in the first place was for the spell of erasure.
There wasn’t even a reason to keep the book after that and yet I did.
I couldn’t part with it. More than that, I couldn’t imagine it in anyone else’s hands.
Perhaps someone more noble than me, like Solon, would make a good guardian for the book.
He would no doubt use it for all the right causes, like tracking down Bellamy and finding Leif, the stolen vampire child, or destroying Saara for good.
But I don’t have a reason to care about any of that anymore, and the book wants to stay in my company.
If it didn’t, I’m sure the demon would abscond with it all together.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“Don’t you wonder why you have the book?” she says, taking a sip of her wine. “Why it chose you?”
I clear my throat. “Yes. All the time.” Then I take a mouthful of my drink and switch the subject. “I don’t know how satisfied you are with food, but since you’ve only recently turned, I’m guessing you still have an appetite for the stuff.”
“I do,” she says, reaching forward with her knife to slice off some of the soft cheese and spread it on a cracker.
“I’m always hungry.” She gives me another one of those shy smiles, the kind that makes my dick twitch.
The innocence of her face plus the sight of her breasts spilling out of her dress that’s a little too small for her is like a fucking wet dream.
I’m tempted to throw her down on the table, right on top of the food, and have my way with her, but I need her to be ravenous for the main course and I need to focus.
We both eat a little and drink a lot of wine, until I know she’s feeling pretty loose, her inhibitions melting away dabbling in small talk which is easy and enjoyable for once and not torturous. Then I decide it’s time.
“Now, onto the main course of the evening,” I announce, getting out of my chair.
“That wasn’t it?” she asks.
I just give her a faint smile and tell her I’ll be right back. Then I go up the stairs all the way back toward my bedroom. There are two towers located next to each other, and I make my way to the higher one above my room.
This place was never a chapel. Never a place of salvation.
It was a place where they’d put the disciples when they needed to be punished. It was their own personal hell, locked away in the dark tower with nary a god to hear them.
It is here that I am keeping the boy.