It's been a while since I updated on account of my computer being so perpetually useless so I thought I'd make it a double update. Also I'm bored and not a lot really happened in the last chapter when it comes down to it. Here's chapter three in which the story gets moving properly. Cradle of Filth is inspiring stuff to write to. I just love it. Seeing them live in December. So long to wait...Bye, Skaye.
The next day in a small underground room with a long table down the middle and not much else, Dante was introduced to Lady's organisation's antiques curator. He was a short stocky man in his late 40's with wild red hair in a rough ponytail and a brown duster coat. He looked more like a back-ally drugs dealer than a curator of paranormal artefacts but he had the manner of a professional and a vast collection of knowledge. He handed the ring to Dante along with a map of the Mediterranean Sea and put a couple more item of jewellery in the same solid reddish gold on the table.
"I don't know who you pissed off, Dante, may I call you Dante? My name's Karl but it's not really important. Anyway, I don't know how you did it but it looks like you caught the interest of a dead vampire and scored a little invitation to his castle."
Dante and Lady looked blankly at Karl. He beamed excitedly.
"Let me lay it down for you. The ring you were given is from the Dis islands in the stormiest part of the Mediterranean Sea in a region known locally as 'The Maelstrom'. The islands are home to an exclusive community of vampires we've heard nothing from for almost ten years and that was when their coven leader, Lord Rahovart was assassinated under some very odd circumstances. Now these suckers rarely take live humans or anything else for that matter back to that little court of theirs but throughout history whenever they intended someone to come to them they used a piece of jewellery like this as a calling card. We have a few of them collected here dating all the way back to the early 12th Century. These guys are pretty old, notoriously elusive and very very powerful. And I think they want you."
Dante examined the assorted rings, pendants and earrings on the table in front of him.
"So they want me to just show up at this island getaway of theirs, huh?"
"That appears to be their intention. You'll need your own transport though; the locals stay way clear of that place. Even the transcontinental flight paths are arranged to bypass it completely."
Lady looked at the little pile of glittering gold and then at Dante.
"So are you actually going to go?"
He smiled slightly, picked up his ring and turned to leave.
"Need you ask?"
Karl handed him the map on which he'd marked the location of the islands with a red marker and a suggested route in black.
"Take this with you and watch out when you're dealing with vampires. If you let yourself get sucked into their world you might not be able to leave even if you want to."
Lady shook her head in mock mourning.
"Karl, you don't know who you're talking to here, if Dante isn't running that place by this time next week it either means they killed him or hemassacred every single one of them."
Dante smiled again and nodded.
"Or the area isn't covered by local pizza delivery in which case they can just go directly to Hell and not collect my $200."
He set off for the islands with a few specialist weapons gifted from the organisation and a many little pieces of useless advice from every single person who'd heard what he was planning. Which was pretty much everyone there. He was flown over to Spain overnight by Lady's people's private plane (a rickety piece of illegal engineering that practically collapsed spluttering onto the runway by the end of the flight) and hired a boat just as the sun rose over the eastern horizon. It was beautiful scudding over the little waves of the sea with the sun growing warmer by the minute and the beach disappearing behind with its smell of fish and its helpful friendly people who clearly thought he was out of his mind. Dante didn't care one bit. He followed the map approximately until about mid-morning he sighted land, three small islands with vast white gleaming buildings on the biggest central one.
He heaved the little boat up onto the beach of the larger island and walked with all confidence and a multitude of firearms up through the park-like gardens of the palace. It was a pretty classy place, he had to admit. White all over and an odd combination of the grand ancient Colossal style of Egyptian architecture and elaborate, curling Spanish. He was impressed but had seen enough places like it not to be blown away by looks alone. He went in through the wide open doors and found the décor slightly unsettling at first. Everything was red and gold. The drapes were heavy red velvet, the chairs and sofas were wrought gold with red velvet cushions. The tables were solid gold with red marbled tops and red flowers, roses, carnations, freaky orchids and others stood in gold vases. The place gave him the definite creeps.
If someone had wanted to decorate their house to deliberately give the impression of standing inside a beating human heart, they would have probably ended up with something like this. The smell was equally cloying, a sickly incense drifting over the deep scent of something much less pleasant. Metallic and bitter like blood.
Dante cast off his coat and left it by the door not because he was too warm but because he didn't want to look like he belonged here in any way which was the eerie impression he got. The door was open and nobody kept guard. It was as if they wanted him to simply wander in. Moving into the main rooms, a dining room joined onto a cavernous ballroom, a library full of ancient books bound in red leather with gold lettering, a parlour with a cold fireplace and many smaller sitting rooms, he found each one full of statues; life-size, hyper-realistic renderings of beautifully dressed people frozen in the acts of dancing, talking, sitting on sofas. One had a glass of wine in his hand poised half way to his lips. There were candles everywhere, in red and gold naturally, but they had been extinguished for some time. Dante continued his wandering and found at the very highest room of the palace a massive gallery filled with weapons of all kinds.
"Now this is more like it." He said looking with a large smile around at the vast array of axes, swords, clubs, maces, crossbows and countless knives. A whole wall was given over to demon weapons and he saw quite a few he'd read about or heard of before. He called out to the empty palace;
"Anybody mind if I take a look at these things?" a few seconds of silence, "I didn't think so."
He hefted a large sword carved from hilt to tip with a variety of runes older than any seen scratched on obelisks in Britain or Scandinavia. He swung it around a few times and was pleased to see little tongues of fire running up and down it. Perhaps the trip wasn't a total loss. He caught himself almost wishing Lucia could see it, perhaps it might coax a smile out of her. They could spar with those cruel-looking Sai knives, moving in perfect sync as they seemed to do effortlessly, his strength and force perfectly complementing her speed and stealth… Not Dante thoughts at all really. This place was cracking him up for sure. He shook his head vigorously and put the sword back before heading downstairs again just in time to see the sun set over the sea tingeing everything flame red. It made the house seem even more vibrant and disturbingly bloody. He shivered then suddenly heard a woman's soft voice behind him although he'd heard no approaching footsteps.
"I'm so glad you had the chance to see our house at its best in the dying light, Lord Son of Sparda."
Dante turned and looked straight at the newcomer. She was one of the statues but transformed, she looked almost human and wore a long flowing archaic dress of red velvet with heavy gold jewellery. She had long dark hair and although her skin was no longer stone, it was unnaturally pale; definitely a vampire. She seemed to hear his thoughts.
"It's a powerful spell put on the house for our protection. As long as we're inside the walls by sunrise we don't need to go downstairs and sleep in some musty crypt, we are simply encased in stone as we stand. Saves a lot of time and it's so much more dignified."
Dante was almost speechless. Almost. He gathered his thoughts.
"You called, I came. I could say more for your welcome party though. Who are you?"
She smiled.
"My name is Miri. I am a Lady of the court here. We were of late under the Lord Rahovart but as I know you've heard he died some time ago. Now we are ruled by his mortal bride, Genevieve. You will meet with her later and she will tell you personally why she had you brought here. Until then you may join our little soiree in the ball room. Please follow me."
Miri took his arm and led him back to the immense red-draped ballroom which was now quite crowded with figures dancing gracefully to a slow morbid waltz.
Dante was dazed by the twirling red and sudden realization that all the statues had spontaneously come to life but he covered it up well and moved to a wall as far away from the little string quartet as possible to wait for a slightly more satisfying explanation as to just what in Hell he was doing there.