Chapter 1 #2
But even a bridge as small and brief as that one reminded me again how far from home I was—the farthest I’d been since leaving England the first and last time, setting sail for some promised land they called the New World.
That was before I was turned, so I hadn’t experienced the vampiric side effects of crossing water. But the journey had been troublesome regardless, racked by illness, unkind sailors, and fear.
I looked past Leslee to the looming luxury hotel just outside the town’s border, grounding my mind back in the present in an effort to shield myself from the worrisome past.
The hotel was a geometric monstrosity, all strict straight lines in tight squares from the shape itself to the windows dotting the various stories. Even the hedges were alarmingly square as we pulled up to the entrance, as if someone had drafted them on a machine and installed them like equipment.
As the carriage slowed to a stop, I could see a line of well-dressed young men standing at attention beneath a brightly lit awning.
Classical music blasted from some hidden speakers, and I almost couldn’t hear Leslee as she stepped from the carriage, throwing her arms wide to the assembled crew.
I noticed our driver, Alex, sprint effortlessly from his seat on the carriage to join the line.
So, their physical powers had come in. Good.
“Welcome to the Clotswold by Litchfield, Patrick, and to your first-ever assembled class of Vampire Basics 101.”
“Welcome, Professor Aglio,” six voices chimed in obedient unison.
I clasped my hands behind my back, assuming the rigid posture of my former schoolteacher self.
It wasn’t lost on me that for the third time that evening, my past was seeping back into my present.
“Good evening, masters. I’ll expect this level of decorum in all interactions.
You are to refer to me as Professor or Professor Aglio, only, and you will meet me at this very spot, in this very formation, every evening at midnight.
Do not be late. I look forward to our time together.
Dismissed.” I nodded, watching with satisfaction as their stances slackened, their shoulders dropping.
But then it was as if chaos herself dragged inciting fingers through our atmosphere.
The fanglings chortled and teased one another, their alert stance dissolving into blurred limbs as they chased, tackled, and harassed in a whirlwind that quickly left me in a dazed state.
In the blink of a human eye, they were gone, their voices carrying from somewhere on the far side of the hotel and one lone voice ringing out from the roof.
“Don’t! We’ll get in trouble!”
Leslee pushed rogue curls from her face, eyes dancing with laughter. “Forgive them,” she said. “You’re only their third guest ever. One moment.” Setting her hands on her hips and tilting her head back, she yelled into the night sky. “Gentlemen! Your guest has luggage!”
As quickly as they’d disappeared, the fanglings returned, zipping to the carriage and appearing only briefly as they snatched my things from the roof rack.
One particularly burly fellow with shoulders like a seasoned rugby star piled my three suitcases onto one arm, as if they weighed no more than a sheet of paper.
Another young man, willowy and practically engulfed in waist-length wavy dark hair, appeared with a rolling cart.
When the burly one made it clear he would carry my luggage with no need for the cart, the long-haired one chased him inside, slamming the wheels into the backs of his ankles in protest.
One fangling with bright red hair and a polished nametag that called him Alfred appeared at my side with no warning, startling me for what may have been the first time in decades.
I pressed a hand to my chest on reflex, knowing there would be no slamming heartbeat to soothe.
“If you’d follow me, sir,” Alfred said, gesturing to the entrance.
But before I could go more than two steps, he appeared in front of me, blocking the path with a dramatically deep bow. “Bon séjour, monsieur,” he said in painfully flat French.
“Freddie, we’ve talked about this!” I glanced back to my side, where the same redhead—no. There were two. Pinching the bridge of my nose to quell the growing headache, I let out a slow breath.
“What of it?” The boy’s obvious brother didn’t move from his bow, hissing at Alfred through his teeth. “I told you, they love this French shit.”
“You just did this with Miss Amato, and that was embarrassing enough,” Alfred warned.
The other redhead straightened, clearly embarrassed. His nametag identified him as Frederick.
“Miss Amato?” I turned to Leslee, one brow quirked in question. I’d understood I’d be alone on the premises.
“Rye. She’s Billy’s lawyer—you’ll love her. Incredibly smart and apparently well-versed in ancient texts. She’s going to help you—”
“A human?” I hissed despite myself. Sure, in this modern era of unusual creatures living alongside humans, I’d come to accept a few of them in our midst. But a human alone in a nest of untrained fanglings?
With their hunger and unpredictability? It was a disaster waiting to happen.
And if Billy had revealed himself to this woman—
“She figured it out for herself, before you go off about consequences and The Code.” Leslee put an imperious hand on her hip, staring down her freckled nose at me. “It’s why Billy invited her to help you. She knows more about vampires than he does.”
“Not a hefty feat,” I muttered. Billy, too, had been turned and then abandoned by his sire, left to fend for himself some hundred years or so before we met.
His flagrant disregard for The Code couldn’t be helped, given his circumstances, but even he couldn’t get away with working alongside a human that closely.
“What was that?” Leslee asked, her tone making it clear that she didn’t need the clarification.
“I look forward to meeting Miss Amato,” I said, lifting my voice to a more appropriate volume and clearing my throat.
“She’s incredible.” A fifth fangling I hadn’t noticed yet chimed in, voice filled with awe. He looked older than the others, but for his slumped posture and unfortunate bowl cut. His nametag said Benedict.
“I’ll fetch le mademoiselle for you, Professor,” Frederick purred, but his brother stomped a foot in the dirt with a shriek.
“Miss Amato specifically said not to disturb her again!” A rogue, indignant curl quivered on Alfred’s forehead.
“I’m sure she’ll make le excep . . . shion!” Frederick slurred his syllables together, pursing his lips obscenely in the fake French word. His brother snarled and lunged.
Before either of them could land a hit, I snatched the collars of their dress shirts.
“Be still,” I hissed, fixing their quickly dilating red eyes with a commanding stare.
I waited until their feet slumped on the gravel drive, jaws slack, gaze blank, before releasing them.
They swayed in place, awaiting my next command.
“Oy, this bugger hypnotized Alfie and Freddie!” The beefy fangling dropped my luggage like so many bales of hay, pushing his sleeves up as he sprinted toward me.
With a wave of my hand, I ensnared the rest of the fanglings, my budding headache roaring to life at the exertion.
One newly turned vampire had enough power and bloodlust to take down a small militia on their own.
I was challenged with six—all without a sire.
“That is enough. All of you are to quietly and politely carry my things to my room. You will deliver me my evening meal and leave me in peace until our first lesson tomorrow. Nod if you understand.” Five heads nodded in unison.
I waved my hand in the opposite direction this time, releasing the nest.
Something strange twisted in my gut as I watched the boys gather my things and march in an orderly line into the hotel.
“You didnae hav’t do that.” A soft Scottish brogue sounded at my shoulder. The driver—Alex. Ah, there was number six. “They would’ve done what you asked after they worked off their excitement.”
Leslee stood behind him, comforting hands on each shoulder. Something in her gaze made me want to turn away, to hide. “Alex is right,” she added. “They’re good boys.”
“They must learn to control themselves as any of us did.” I sniffed, adjusting my traveling coat and brushing invisible dirt from the front.
“Your teacher hypnotized you?” I couldn’t see Alex’s face beneath his hair, but his mouth was turned down in a tight line.
“I won’t depress you with my teacher’s lessons.” I nodded stiffly to the witch and the fangling before finally walking into the hotel, their pitying gaze burning through my back.
Inside, I was pleased to discover my room matched the photos I’d seen.
Maroon striped wallpaper met dark wood wainscotting, peppered tastefully with reproductions of the Dutch masters.
My luggage rested on the available stands, the wardrobe doors left open should I wish to unpack.
A plush, square sofa and lounge set surrounded a reclaimed wood coffee table, stain glinting in the flickering low light.
I was reminded briefly of the tavern rooms I’d rented in my past life—of the laborious work drafting lessons by candlelight.
The bed was plush and inviting, although I’d slept in my coffin for long enough now that the thought of all that softness made my back ache.
And there was my burial case itself, resting thoughtfully on a raised wooden bed, a rolling tray filled with my grave dirt beneath that. My journey had been tiring, and the dawn would come soon, but there was still the matter of my dinner.
The only fangling remaining was the willowy one with all the hair. He levitated in a cross-legged position, hands crossed over his chest, waiting.
“You.” I snapped my fingers at him, expecting some recognition in his disdainful gaze. He arched a brow, the expression quickly swallowed by his wavy mop. “See that I’m brought dinner expeditiously. I don’t wish to wake hungry.”
“Breakfast?” he asked, voice like the wind through eaves.
“Yes, I suppose I’ll take breakfast as well.
” I unfastened my coat, hanging it in the wardrobe before snapping open my suitcase.
“You do keep a live supply, correct?” Some vampires, like Billy, preferred blood donation bags, but I’d never acquired the taste.
It was like sipping flat, stale beer when I knew there was champagne in the next room.
William nodded.
“That will be all.” But when I turned around, the boy was still there, hovering a few feet above the lush carpeting. “I’ll expect a more attentive ear in the future, Master William. I said, ‘That will be all.’”
The fangling dropped his legs to the ground, slouching from the room but not before muttering, “Billy tips for breakfast.” The door slammed behind him, rattling the paintings and light fixture.
“Billy tips,” I muttered. “Outrageous.”
I certainly had my work cut out for me.