Chapter 33: Comparing Notes

'How long have you been here?' Trevor asked as the three of them were poking around the room.

'Just arrived,' Yvette said. 'You?'

'Yeah,' Trevor said. 'We found some people trying to sacrifice a village's children to Death.'

'Charming,' Yvette said.

'What brings you here?' Sypha asked.

'Looking for you actually,' Yvette said. 'I was right about Carmilla, but it turns out she wants to turn the land between Styria and Braila into a pen.'

'For fuck's sake!' Trevor muttered.

'When you say "pen"…?' Sypha trailed off.

'Exactly what it sounds like,' Trevor said. 'Trap the humans in there, and then periodically feed off of them.' He paused as he found something of interest. It had a green handle, was ornately carved, and had slots for something or other.

'They're not animals!' Sypha snapped, going from disbelieving to angry in a heartbeat. Trevor turned to see if Yvette noticed. She did, from that raised eyebrow, but she didn't comment. Trevor turned his attention back and picked up the dagger in question. He was pretty sure on what it was. He sniffed and muttered to himself, 'This stinks of magic.'

'Unfortunately, that is exactly what vampires think of humans,' Yvette said. 'They're even known to call us livestock.' She then moved on. 'Anyway, I got ambushed the whole six weeks I was travelling. Last one I managed to find out why. Apparently, Varney didn't want me coming to Targoviste. So here I am.'

'Varney?' Trevor asked, tucking the dagger away.

Yes,' Yvette laughed to herself, 'he is pretty forgettable. He's a British vampire whose stench is said to be detectable from ten miles away. Talks big, but pretty pathetic in vampire terms. He once spent a prolonged period terrorising London and human history doesn't even remember it.'

'Well, I've never heard of him,' Sypha said.

Yvette waved her hand in a "there you go" gesture.

Trevor stood up. 'What about this pen?'

'We're in the "we'll see" stage,' Yvette said. 'Carmilla's got one forgemaster, but the other one's coming after her for a revenge kill. With a bit of luck – and a strong breeze – they'll wipe each other out.'

Sypha nodded. 'I hope so.' She looked around them. 'What about this place? What were they doing down here?'

'Looking to steal weapons, I imagine,' Yvette said. 'I saw the guard on the way in.'

'Yeah.' Trevor walked over.

Sypha was standing there, looking down at one of the other guards. 'If we hadn't lost track of them, these people would all still be alive.'

'Yeah,' Trevor whispered.

'This is where you're supposed to say that it's not our fault, Trevor,' Sypha told him testily.

'It's not,' Trevor said. 'But if I wasn't so tired after six weeks of this shit, they would have had a better chance.'

Yvette raised an eyebrow.

'Right.' Trevor walked over to Sypha. 'We need to find somewhere safe to sleep.'

'Take tomorrow to rest,' Sypha said. 'And think all this through.'

Yvette nodded and led them out.

'I don't get it,' Trevor muttered, knowing that Yvette could still hear him. 'We killed Dracula, and now we have to spend the rest of our lives making sure nobody brings him back from the dead? This is not what I agreed to.'

'Seriously?' Yvette asked. 'That's what you've been doing for six weeks?'

Trevor stopped at the corpse of the first guard. 'Yeah.' He leaned down and shut the man's eyes.

They moved on again. 'Okay,' Yvette said. 'I think we need to compare notes.'

Two vampires stood in the tower. The dirtier of the two sneered. 'Is that bastard wearing the Belmont crest?'

'The blonde too,' his Baltic companion agreed.

'Fuck it! Two of them? And that's a Speaker Magician with them!'

'And Sladek and Ivan didn't come out,' the other vampire said.

'I know that!' the dirty vampire snapped. 'I've got eyes!'

The other vampire shushed him.

'This isn't fair!' The dirty vampire began to rant. 'I was one of Dracula's first loyal followers! He was gonna give me everything. And I was close – so close – to fixing it all! But now I have to deal with Belmonts and a Mad Magician!'

'Varney,' the other vampire said. 'We need to go.'

'Go where?' Varney turned back around. 'This is where I'm supposed to be. At the start of the war, I came here to take Targoviste and give it to Dracula as a gift. Why's everyone making it so fucking hard? Don't they know who I am?'

The other vampire was silent for a second. 'No.'

'I'm Varney, Night Mayor of London, Terror of the British Isles, King Vampire Cocksman of all Europe, and I don't have to put up with this!' He strode over. 'Go! Go. Back to the nest.' He glared down at the three humans leaving the courtyard. 'I'll have all of you for my fucking dinner.'

'St. Germain, huh?' Yvette asked. 'Yeah, your father did refer to him. Just not by name. He was who he was talking about when he said "the fucking wizard".'

Trevor snorted in amusement. 'So, I guess my father had the same impression I did.'

'We all did,' Yvette said. 'He was a pain in the arse, but also a bit of a curiosity. We didn't know where he came from or even where he learned his magic. I think Gabe knew a bit more, but not a lot. In fact, you two found out more about him in Lindenfeld than we ever knew.'

'So, the Judge was a serial killer of children, eh?' Yvette pushed the door to the barn open.

'Serial killer?' Trevor asked.

'That is the correct phrase for someone who periodically kills people for pleasure,' Yvette explained.

Sypha sighed. 'I feel like we should have…noticed something. We knew him for a month and we never picked up a thing.'

'The Lindenfelders had him live among them for years and they never noticed,' Yvette pointed out. 'I know they were uneducated, but uneducated people are not necessarily stupid. If they thought for a second he had anything to do with their children going missing, town leader or not, he'd have had an angry mob at his door.'

'Hm.' Trevor frowned.

Yvette turned back to face them. 'Look, the point is that you couldn't have been expected to k
now that the Judge was a serial killer, because nobody recognises serial killers unless they're caught red-handed. Serial killers have an uncanny ability to blend in with respectable society. That's why they're serial killers. They often pick a demographic to target that won't get too many raised eyebrows or questions: prostitutes, vagrants, even children like you saw.'

Trevor folded his arms. 'Run into some before?'

Yvette nodded. 'They're common enough…if you hang around in popular dumping grounds.' She clapped her hands together. 'But that's depressing. I think we should—' She cut herself off and looked up. 'Oh, fuck you. Just fuck you.'

Trevor and Sypha looked up too.