Lucy
Why do vampires always have to have such complicated buildings, or nests, as they prefer to call them?
I turn left, then left again given I’m looking for a way down to the ground level. If I keep going left, I will have to find a staircase eventually.
While the vamps will merrily turn into mist, or bats, or whatever creature their sire turned into in order to get in or out of rooms and buildings, the thralls they keep to do their dirty work and to attend them during daylight hours can’t do any such thing.
As such, they need stairs/lifts and lights, meaning, lucky for me, there are low level lights on in these dark corridors.
I move as quietly as I can, the floors being sumptuously carpeted and making it easy enough.
I have the chain from my bonds gripped tightly in my hand to avoid it making any noise.
The set of snips in my boot, either ignored or missed by the thralls who searched me when Dominik discovered me about to stake him, made easy work of it.
Once I’m finally free I’ll deal with the rest.
And the thrall who thought he was all that…discovered exactly what sort of skills are instilled into a Van Helsing from practically birth. He will wake up with a sore head and with the wrath of his master about to rain down on him.
But thralls like that sort of thing, so I’ve probably done him a favor.
What I haven’t done is find a way out. I tried to memorize the floor plan of the building near the old opera house which Dominik uses as his nest, but the only plans I could find I was pretty sure had been deliberately changed and, as it turns out, I was right.
But if it’s daylight outside, this is my only chance to get out of here. They won’t pursue me while the sun is up, and if I do it right, I could be on a plane back to London before nightfall. I could escape.
Whilst I know Dominik is capable of following me, I doubt he’ll bother if I’m in another country and no longer a threat.
Then all I have to worry about is the ire of my family for failing and how I’m going to deal with work and my impending need for maternity leave.
I’m the only female solicitor in the firm. The concept of my reproductive system has likely not occurred to the partners. It’s going to be difficult to say the least.
I turn another corner, and to my great relief, I see a narrow set of stairs descending into the dark. I’ve spent plenty of time in dark vampire infested places so it doesn’t worry me too much as I creep closer and listen for anything which might denote vamp presence.
The stairwell is quiet, so I descend as quickly and stealthily as I can to the next landing. By my reckoning, I’m on the fifth floor, so I still have another three to go before I hit the lower level and can hopefully walk out of here, unmolested.
It seems I’ve hit the jackpot when it comes to stairs as they continue down, and I follow, not prepared to question my good fortune, and by the time I reach the last step, it’s clear my calculations were correct.
Now all I need to do is get past all the thralls and any vampire guards lurking in the shadows.
Because just like humans, some vamps get insomnia. And having been divested of all my weapons other than the set of wire snips, I don’t want to run into some cranky monster who might also be feeling a bit peckish.
Or to run into Dominik Király again.
Because as dismissive as he was to find me about to stake him in the heart and cut off his head, there’s something more compelling about him than any other vamp I’ve been sent to kill.
I grit my teeth and forge on. Knowing I came from the rear of the building, I continue ahead.
My time with Dominik was colored by the fact he was helping my friend, Grace, or rather her werewolf mate.
He certainly didn’t seem to pay me that much attention and on occasion was pompously, irritatingly dismissive.
It should have made it easier to stake him. But I still hesitated.
And it’s a hesitation I’m going to pay dearly for.
A cold wind hits me, coupled with the metallic tang of snow. I can’t be far from the entrance, and I increase my pace.
Big mistake. My footsteps ring out as I hit the tiles I knew were there and forgot about in my desire to get out of the vampire nest I entered willingly.
“Hello, little morsel,” a deep, accented voice says into my ear. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He’s directly behind me. Directly in front of me is the door leading out into Budapest.
The door to freedom.
It’s only overrated if you have it.
Vamps are fast. So am I. But this is the king of the vampires, Dominik Király. He’s so fast I’m not sure I stand a chance of getting to the door.
I have one possible option left to me. I fire my elbow backwards, impacting the vampire king behind me and run, reaching the door before what I’ve done can register. I wrench it open, and I’m out in the snow, which is almost blinding.
“I love it when they run.” His voice carries out after me.
I turn and look back at the door. The vampire king stands there, resplendent in his evening wear, looking as crisp as the day he died.
Tall, dark, cheekbones you could cut yourself on, and startlingly blue eyes in a pale face.
The very epitome of elegance and movie star good looks.
He could be in his thirties, but he’s more likely three hundred years old.
If he had been anything or anyone else, he’d be highly desirable. But he’s a vampire and off limits.
Not that I need limits. The fact I failed to kill him will be a mark against me by my family.
“Love this.” I give him the time honored two-finger salute the British are so fond of. And not the one Churchill used.
Dominik shakes his head, and I hear the slow tut. “Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,” he intones. “That was beneath you.”
“Says the blood-sucking vampire.”
“We’re both blood suckers, just in different ways,” he says with the hint of a smile.
“If you’re trying to be funny about my career choices, I’ve heard it all before.” I sigh.
“And I’ve heard all the insults any vampire is likely to receive, so perhaps that makes us alike.”
“I am nothing like you,” I growl. “Don’t come after me, or I will stake you.”
I back away, not allowing my eyes to leave him for a moment. Dominik can daywalk, unlike most of his kind. The only saving grace is he’s slower, allegedly.
But not that much slower.
Behind me, a tram rattles to a stop, and I board the yellow and cream contraption.
“Until next time,” Dominik calls out with a wave, as if saying goodbye to an old friend.
I slump into a seat as both relief and exhaustion overtake the adrenaline. There won’t be a next time. Not ever.
This time I’m done with vampire hunting. And I’m done with vampires. Especially ones called Dominik Király.