Chapter 2: Cross referencing

Audrey had thought she'd been hungry right up to the minute dinner had been served. Now, poking her meal around her plate, she wasn't so sure. Oh, of course, it was nothing like the horrific slop Cookie had served up, a lumpy orange mush she refused to believe had once been beans. But it was still disappointing to expect something delicious and get…this.

The slices of meat…possibly beef, possibly lamb, at this point it was hard to tell, had been cooked until they were dry, hard slabs. The overdone meat was in stark contrast to the distressingly crunchy potatoes, and woody broccoli. The entire, disturbingly generous portion was topped off with a thin gravy, one that lacked any taste except for the overpowering bitterness of garlic.

She sighed, and broke off a chunk of possibly-beef. Across the table, Kida also wore an expression of faint horror, as she attempted to saw through a potato. Next to her, Milo was too busy talking to Mrs. Vaduva to pay much attention to what was going into his mouth. Unsuprisingly, Mole was devouring his portion with the grace and restraint of a starved animal, although somewhat unusually, he seemed to have decided to use the cutlery this time. As for Vinny…he was making a surprisingly valiant effort to pretend that meat was supposed to have the consistency of plywood.

She sighed again, and tried mashing her bullet-like potatoes into the garlic sauce. Normally, Obby would be scampering around the table, looking for leftovers, or curled under Milo's chair. At the very least, he'd be curled up in the fire, toasting himself, and eventually leaving ashy footprints everywhere. Now, however, he was sat at the foot of Silvia's chair, gazing up at her with brainless adoration. Audrey gave it about five minutes before Mole did the same.

She snorted. Simple minds must think alike.

Across the table from her, Vinny pushed his plate away, and gave a mock sigh of contentment.

"Well. I'm stuffed."

Silvia peered at his plate.

"But you've left most of it!" Her voice rang with indignation.

"I, er, have a medical condition. Stomach the size of a golf ball."

Mrs. Vaduva leant over and placed a hand on her daughters shoulder.

"Now child. Don't fuss. It's late: perhaps our guests do not have much of an appetite."

At these words, there was an almost audible sigh of relief, and the shuffling of bowls.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm kinda full too." Said Audrey.

"I am also satisfied." Kida set her cutlery down.

"Me too." Milo joined her.

Silvia stood up and sighed loudly.

"Fine. I'll take your plates."

Mole looked up from the plate he was currently licking clean.

"I will help you, mademoiselle!"

"Fine. Come on then."

There was a clattering as the two of them began to clear the table. Audrey handed her bowl over, and relaxed back in her chair, hoping dearly that there was no desert.

"So, what made you send for us?" She asked, after a moment. "I mean, obviously vampires and all. But why us?"

Mrs. Vaduva smiled softly. Behind her, Silvia strode out to the kitchen, holding a single small dish. Mole tailed her like an affection-starved puppy, teetering under a pile of crockery.

"My family have been contacts for Mr. Whitmore for many years now. We're his eyes and ears out in Romania." A fond little sigh. "Ah, I've got such good memories of the old coot. He was always sending us to talk to people, to source various artefacts. When this problem started, my first thought was him. I knew he'd be able to send someone who knew what they were doing."

From the kitchen came the sound of clattering plates.

"Alright. You can wash. I'll dry." Silvia's voice came filtering out. There was a pause. "Well? What's wrong? It's just soapy water. You're not afraid of soapy water, are you?"

"…Non. Not at all. It will be a pleasure." His voice came out slightly strained.

"Alright. …I'm waiting."

There was a soft splashing noise, followed by a scream.

"Mon dieu! It burns!"

Mrs. Vaduva pushed her chair back, and got to her feet.

"Perhaps we should retire to the living room?"

The fire crackled in the grate, the shadows dancing up the walls. Milo sat back into the softness of the sofa, feeling the faint, reassuring weight of Kida sitting beside him. Across from him sat Mrs. Vaduva, her skinny body folded up in the chair.

"So." He said, leaning forwards. "This is amazing! Real vampires!" He caught the expression on her face, and stifled his enthusiasm. "I…I mean obviously it's awful. Really terrible. But interesting. From a purely academic point of view, I mean."

"Yes… I hear you are something of an expert on the…paranormal, I suppose."

Milo averted his eyes, looking down at the floor, and fiddling with the book on his lap.

"That's flattering, but it's only an amateur interest, really. I mean, I suppose I've had a bit more experience than most. But not with this sort of thing. Not with vampires." He flipped his book open. "There's so much conflicting information, about strengths and weaknesses. I mean, now we know that the garlic and hawthorn garlands work, but no two sources can agree if they can cross running water, for example."

"They can."

"Really? Interesting. Holy symbols?"

"They'll repel them, like the garlic, but won't keep them away entirely."

"Holy water?"

"It burns them, yes."

"Invitations?"

"They don't need them to enter a house. If they did, we wouldn't need the garlic."

"Silver?"

"Effective, but consecrated silver is better."

"Stakes? Decapitation? Fire?"

"Those work for everything, not just vampires.

"Point taken. Sunlight?"

"It won't kill them, at least not immediately, but they are powerless in the sunlight. It must be sunlight, though. Candlelight or electric light does nothing."

"Oh. We had Audrey rig up some special lamps…"

"I doubt they will work."

"Oh. That's a shame. …Do they sleep in coffins?"

"Yes. But to rest properly, they must sleep in a thick layer of soil, taken from their native country."

Mole shuffled in from the kitchen.

"Yes, but zhat is true for everybody." He looked up at a row of puzzled stares. "…Isn't it?"

Vinny leant back in his chair.

"Well, I think we should be all set." He reached into his jumper, and from somewhere inside produced a small, round bomb. "I mixed up a load of these little babies before we left. They've got silver filings, silver nitrate, garlic, holy water, holy nitro-glycerine…oh, and gunpowder. Lots of gunpowder."

Mrs. Vaduva flinched back.

"Er, and we also have some non-explosive weapons, too." Milo added. "Stakes and stuff. So… How about their supernatural powers? Can they shapeshift into bats or wolves?"

"No. Not that I know of. But they can dominate the minds of animals, and control them."

"Can they fly?"

"No."

"Turn into smoke?"

"No."

"Are they strong?"

"Terribly."

"What about their bite? Can they turn humans into more of themselves?"

"Yes, if they choose to. It's not common. They don't enjoy competition."

Milo nodded. Across the room, Vinny was idly throwing the little bomb in the air and catching it again.

Mrs. Vaduva leant forwards.

"Will you come with me for a moment, Milo? I have some books on the subject that you might be interested in."

"Alright." He turned to Kida, and gently squeezed her hand. "I'll be back in a minute."

She nodded. Milo got to his feet, and followed Mrs. Vaduva out of the living room, and down the corridor. The warm wooden floor creaked softly under his feet, as she led him to a small study that smelt of dust and leather. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of row upon row of books.

"Wow…"

"You like them? They're just a small part of my collection, really." Her fingers traced along the dusty spines, before coming to rest on a thick volume bound in green leather. "Ah, here we go. This should prove enlightening."

"Thank you, Mrs. Vaduva."

"Please, call me Mariana." She handed him the book, his arms sagging a little with the weight of it. "So tell me, Milo. What are your plans?"

"Well, I want us to get an early start tomorrow. We'll scout out the house in the mountains, the one you think the problem is coming from. If what you say is true, we'll be safe in the daylight. We'll see if there are vampires there, and we'll see if we can negotiate first. Then, if we can't…well, we came prepared to eliminate them."

"Negotiate?" Her voice rang with incredulity. "Mr. Thatch, you honestly think you can negotiate with these…things. Let me tell you this, Milo: you're not dealing with people anymore. You know what vampires are? They are the corpses of the dead, brought back by…by demons, and evil spirits. That's all they are. You can't negotiate with them. You can only send them back to where they came from."

She hung her head. A few tears bubbled up from her eyes.

"My husband tried talking to them. They…they can get inside your head, that's the scary part. They can make you think whatever they want you to think, and you won't even know it. He tried to talk to them, and got inside his head. He…he walked out of the house, right into their clutches. We couldn't stop him. He just walked out, and lay down in their arms, and they drained him dry." She looked up at Milo, mouth a quivering grimace, eyes puffy and streaming. "And the worst part? He was smiling. He was smiling as they killed him. So don't, don't you ever think that you can reason with these things, or negotiate with them, or save them. They're already dead. They will destroy you, and you will be smiling as you die. They will make you crave it."

Her voice broke down into quiet sobs, and she threw her arms around Milo's neck, holding him in an inescapable hug. He carefully slipped his arms around her, and hugged back, holding her as she jolted with restrained sobs.

"There there, Mrs. Vaduva. I mean Mariana."

"I…I'm sorry. I just want my daughter and I to be able to live in peace. I just want this plague gone. I wouldn't ask for help normally. I couldn't live with myself if any of you got hurt up there. But I'm at my wits end. We all are. We need your help."

"We'll do everything we can to help you, Mrs. Mariana." Said Milo, her grip vice-like around his chest. "I promise. We're well prepared, and we've all seen some pretty strange things in our time. If anyone can help, it's us."

"I hope so, Milo. I truly hope so." She released him, and straightened up, with a forced smile. "Now, you're probably all exhausted. I should show you to your beds."