The two of us burst into the hotel room and quickly threw on our pajamas. I absolutely hated to considering I hadn't warmed up properly yet. As soon as the cold air hit my skin goosebumps covered my whole body. We quickly settled into bed and tried to make it as if we had been sleeping the whole time. Ten minutes later I heard the door creak open and felt my heart race at the sound.
I heard the vampires light footsteps on the carpet and could feel his presense hovering over me. Suddenly, rough and calloused hands were on my face pulling back my hair and rubbing against the soft skin of my cheek. Mr. Crepsley's hands were warm against me, despite the frigid air outside. I felt a flash of hot breath against my ear and then his lips were pressed against my cheek. He pulled the covers up to my chin before whispering, "Goodnight."
As soon as I heard the door close behind him, I grinned ear to ear. All along, Crepsley had told me that I was just his assistant, but that kiss so many months ago, and now this? Perhaps he was only kidding himself. Or maybe I just wanted there to be something there so badly, that really I was only fooling myself.
Only time would tell.
The vampire rose promptly as the sun went down. He was looking more cheerful tonight, though he still wouldn't have appeared out of place in a funeral parlor.
"Where is Evra?" he asked, digging into the meal I had prepared.
"Shopping," I noticed there was a tear in his cape and quickly set to work on repairing it before he ventured out tonight.
"By herself? I was under the impression women traveled in packs when it came to shopping?" Mr. Crepsley paused. For a moment I thought he was suspicious, but he was just looking for the salt.
"I think she's buying Christmas presents," I threaded the needle and set to work on fixing the small tear. I pretended to be concentrated in my work but really I was avoiding his questions.
"I thought Evra was above such absurdities." He snorted before adding, " What is the date, anyway?"
"The twentieth of December," I answered brightly as I thought about my own gifts safely locked away downstairs.
He seemed to consider something heavily before saying, "And Christmas is the twenty-fifth?"
"Yeah," Mr. Crepsley rubbed his scar thoughtfully.
"My business here may have come to an end by then," he said.
I gently set down my work and looked up at him,"Oh..." I tried not to sound unhappy. I was just getting used to the idea of celebrating christmas in the city.
"I had planned to move on as soon as possible, but if you wish to remain here for Christmas, we can."
"Of course I do! Evra and I are buying presents for each other. I was even going to make a big dinner, and I was hoping you would join us too." I added with a slight blush.
He smiled and shook his head. "Such absurdities do not appeal to me," he said.
"Oh...right." I scowled unhappily and fiddled with the spool of thread.
"Perhaps...I can make an exception this time." I made a high pitched noise of delight before throwing my arms around the vampire.
"Thank you!"
As soon as he left, I started after him. He led me straight to the slaughterhouse, which surprised me. Maybe it wasn't the fat man he was interested in: perhaps there was something else there that he had his eye on. Evra stayed where she was to follow the fat man. I chose a safe spot to hide, next to a warm pipe that kept some of the cold out. My view of the slaughter-house wasn't as good as it had been last night, but I had a clear sight of Mr. Crepsley, which was what mattered. The fat man arrived at the scheduled time, Evra soon after him. I moved to the edge of the roof when I saw them, ready to leap down and intervene if Mr. Crepsley made his move. But the vampire remained stationary. And that was it for the night. Mr. Crepsley sat on his ledge; Evra and me crouched on ours; the workers kept the slaughterhouse up and running. At three in the morning, the fat man reappeared and went home. Once again Mr. Crepsley followed, and once again we followed Mr. Crepsley. This time the vampire didn't go up to the landing, but that was the only change in the routine. The next night, the exact same thing happened.
"What's he up to?" Evra asked. The cold was getting to her and she was complaining about cramps in her legs. I had told her she could leave, but she was determined to stick it out.
"I don't know," I said. "I'm so confused, he's putting so much effort in to follow this man….what for?"
On the night of the twenty-second of December, Mr. Crepsley made his move. Evra spotted him. I was taking a short break, resting my eyes, when Evra made a sudden alarmed noise and jumped to grab my ankle.
"He's moving!" I sprang forward, just in time to see the vampire leaping onto the roof of the slaughterhouse. He wrestled open a window and quickly slipped inside.
I paused at the open window and listened carefully for sounds of the vampire. There were none. Evra pulled up beside me, gasping from the exertion of the run. I climbed in and Evra followed. We found ourselves in a long room filled with pipes. The floor was covered in dust, in which Mr. Crepsley's footprints were clearly visible. We traced the prints to a door, which opened onto a tiled corridor. The dust that Mr. Crepsley's feet had picked up crossing the room now marked his path across the tiles. We followed the dusty trail along the corridor and down a flight of stairs. We were in a quiet part of the slaughterhouse (the workers were grouped near the other end) but we moved cautiously anyway: it wouldn't be good to be caught at this delicate stage of the game. As the dust grew fainter by the step, I worried about losing the vampire. I didn't want to have to search blindly around the slaughterhouse for him, so I quickened my pace. Evra did, too. As we turned a corner, I saw a familiar red cape and promptly stopped. I stepped back out of sight, dragging Evra with me.
I mouthed the words Say nothing, then cautiously peered around the corner to see what Mr. Crepsley was up to. The vampire was tucked behind cardboard boxes that were stacked against one of the walls. I saw nobody else, but I could hear footsteps approaching. The fat man appeared through a door. He was whistling and looking through some papers attached to a clipboard that he was carrying. He stopped at a large automated door and pressed a button in the wall. With a sharp, grinding noise, it opened.
The fat man hung the clipboard on a hook on the wall, then entered. I heard him press a button on the other side. The door stopped, creaked, and came down at the same slow pace with which it had gone up. Mr. Crepsley darted forward as the door was closing and slid underneath.
"Go back up to the room with the pipes and hide," I told Evra. She began to complain. "Just do it!" I snapped. "He'd spot you here on his way back if you stayed. Go up and wait."
"Be careful!" Evra said, and I could see the fear in her eyes. Not fear for herself. Fear for me. Fear of what I might find going forward all alone.
The room was full of animal carcasses, which hung on steel hooks from the ceiling. It was refrigerated, to keep the animals fresh. The stench of blood was sickening. I knew the bodies were only those of animals, but I kept imagining they were humans. The overhead lights were incredibly bright, so I had to move very carefully: a stray shadow could mean the end of me. The floor was slippery — water? blood? — so I had to watch where I put my feet. There was a strange rosy glow around the carcasses, a result of the bright light and blood.
After a few seconds of seeing nothing but dead animals, I spotted Crepsley and the fat man. I fell in behind the two and kept pace with them. The fat man stopped and checked one of the carcasses. He must have been feeling cold, because he blew into his hands to warm them up, even though he was wearing gloves. He gave the dead animal a slap when he finished examining it the and began to whistle the same tune he'd been whistling outside. He started walking again. I was closing the gap between myself and Crepsley when all of a sudden the fat man bent down to examine something on the ground. I stopped and began to move backward, afraid he'd spot my feet, then noticed the vampire creeping up on the crouching human. I swore underneath my breath and raced forward. If he had been paying attention, he would have heard me, but he was concentrating on the man ahead. The seconds seemed like hours as the fat man crouched, studying whatever it was that had grabbed his attention. Finally he shrugged and stood up straight. I heard Mr. Crepsley hiss and saw his body tense.
It was in that moment I felt someone above me. Someone with hot, stinking breath. My hair, as always was super long and unbound and I suppose to some it was a clear invitation to run a hand through it. Tugging and pulling without mercy the hand molested my hair in a petting motion. I let out a yell of fear and flew forward in fear. The scream caused Crepsley to whip around. His eyes widened incredulously. Since he wasn't looking ahead any longer, he crashed awkwardly into the fat man and the two went sprawling to the ground.
Forgetting the vampire for a moment, I looked over my shoulder at the rolling figure. I could tell it was a man, but that was all I could tell until he stopped moving and got to his feet. When he stood and looked at me, I found myself wishing he'd kept on rolling right out of the room.
He was a fearsome sight. A tall man. Broad and bloated. Dressed in white from head to ankle, an immaculate white suit, spoiled only by smudges of dirt and blood he'd picked up while rolling. In total contrast to his white suit were his skin, hair, eyes, lips, and nails. The skin was a blotchy purple color. The rest were a dark, vibrant red, as though they'd been soaked in blood.
I didn't know who or what this creature was, but I could tell immediately that he was an agent of evil. It was written all over him, the way he stood, the way he sneered, the way madness danced in his unnatural red eyes, the way his ruby-red lips pulled back over his sharp, snarling teeth. I heard Crepsley curse and scramble to his feet. Before he got up, the white-suited man bellowed and ran toward me at a speed no human could have managed. He lowered his head and butted me, almost rupturing the walls of my stomach, driving the wind out of me. I flew backward with a scream into Crepsley, unwillingly driving him back to the floor. The creature in white shrieked, hesitated a moment as though contemplating an attack, then grabbed hold of a carcass and dragged himself up. He leaped up high and grabbed hold of a windowsill smashed the glass, and slithered out. Crepsley cursed again and mounted a carcass and jumped up to the windowsill after the purple-skinned man, wincing from the pain of the impact. He hung there a moment, listening intently. Then his head dropped and his shoulders sagged. The fat human — who'd been blubbering like a baby — got to his knees and began crawling away. Mr. Crepsley noticed him, and, after one last desperate look through the window, dropped to the ground and hurried over to the man, who was trying to rise. I watched helplessly as the vampire pulled the human up and glared into his face: if he was intent on killing the man, there was nothing I could do to stop him.
My ribs felt as though they'd been battered by a ram. Breathing was painful and when a hearty cough found its way out of my chest the familiar tang of blood filled my mouth. Moving was out of the question. But Mr. Crepsley didn't have murder on his mind. All he did was breathe gas into the fat man's face, who stiffened, then slumped to the floor, unconscious. Then he whirled and came toward me, rage in his eyes, the likes of which I'd never seen before. I began to worry about my own life.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He roared. "Do you realize what you've done? You have put yourself in great danger and because of your damned meddling, an insane killer has waltzed off scot-free! This was my chance to stop him and you ...you ..." He couldn't say any more: rage had seized his tongue.
He spun away and sank to his knees, cursing and groaning — at times he seemed to be almost crying — with undisguised disgust. I looked from the vampire to the sleeping human to the broken window, and realized that I'd made a horrible mistake. There was a long, edgy period of silence, minutes passing slowly. I felt around my ribs — none were broken. I stood and gritted my teeth as my insides flared with pain. I'd be sore for days.
Making my way over to Mr. Crepsley, I cleared my throat. "Who was that?" I asked.
He glared at me and shook his head. "Idiot!" he growled. "What were you doing here?"
"Trying to figure out what the hell you're doing here," I said, pointing to the fat man. Mr. Crepsley stared at me. "I heard about those six dead people on the news," I explained.
"You thought I was a murderer?" Mr. Crepsley roared. "You are even dumber than I thought! Do you have so little faith in me that you —"
That was in. The pressed down emotions from the past couple weeks came tumbled out as I began sobbing my heart out. "I didn't want to! How was I supposed to know? You were acting so strange and distant from me? How am I supposed to trust you if I-I-" I couldn't continue.
Crepsley looked startled, then thoughtful. Finally he nodded wearily. "You are right." He sighed. "One must show trust in order to be trusted. I wished to spare you the gory details; I should not have. This is my fault."
"No! I'm sorry, I should have trusted you more. And now look what I've done!" I said, taken aback by his gentle manner.
To my surprise, he laughed dryly. "You are a reckless young girl, Miss I knew that when I took you on as my assistant." He stood and examined the cut on his arm. "I suppose I should be grateful that I did not come out of this even worse."
"Will you be okay?" I sniffled.
"I will live," he said, rubbing spit into the cut to heal it. I looked up at the broken window. "Are anything of your bones broken?" I shook my head no.
"Who was that?" I whimpered.
"The question is not 'who,'" Mr. Crepsley said. "The question is 'what.' He is a vampaneze. His name is Murlough."
"What's a vampaneze?"
The vampire glanced around fearfully,"It is a long story. We do not have time. Later, I will —"
"No," I said firmly. "No more secrets!"
Mr. Crepsley hesitated, then nodded. "Very well," he said. "I suppose here is as good a place as any. I do not think we will be disturbed. But we dare not delay. I must give this unwelcome turn of events much thought and begin planning anew. I will be brief. Try not to ask unnecessary questions."
"I'll try," I promised.
"The vampaneze are..." he searched for words. "In olden nights, humans were looked down upon by many vampires, who feed on them as people feed on animals. It was not unusual for vampires to drink dry a couple of people a week. Over time, we decided this was not acceptable, so laws were established which forbade needless killing. Most vampires were content to obey the laws -it is easier for us to pass unnoticed amongst humans if we do not kill them- but some felt our cause had been betrayed. Certain vampires believed humans were put on this planet for us to feed upon."
"That's insane!" I yelled.
"I am only trying to explain how these vampires thought. I am not condoning their actions. Seven hundred years ago, events came to a head. Seventy vampires broke away from the rest and declared themselves a separate race. They called themselves the vampaneze and established their own rules and governing bodies. Basically, the vampaneze believe it is wrong to feed from a human without killing. They believe there is nobility in draining a person and absorbing their spirit and that there is shame in taking small amounts, feeding like a leech."
"So they always kill the people they drink from?" I asked. Mr. Crepsley nodded. "That's terrible!"
"I agree," the vampire said. "So did most of the vampires when the vampaneze broke away. There was a huge war. Many vampaneze were killed. Many vampires were, too, but we were winning. We would have hunted them out of existence, except . . ." He smiled bitterly. "The humans we were trying to protect got in the way."
My brow furrowed,"What do you mean?"
"Many humans knew about vampires. But, as long as we did not kill them, they let us be-they were afraid of us. But when the vampaneze started slaughtering people, the humans panicked and fought back. Unfortunately they could not tell the difference between vampires and vampaneze, so both were tracked down and killed. We could have handled the vampaneze," Mr. Crepsley said, "but not the humans. They were on the verge of wiping us out. In the end, our Princes met with the vampaneze and a truce was agreed to. We would leave them alone if they stopped murdering so freely. They would only kill when they needed to feed and would do all they could to keep their murders secret from humanity.
"The truce worked. When the humans realized they were safe, they stopped hunting us. The vampaneze traveled far away to avoid us — part of the agreement — and we have had virtually nothing to do with them for the last several centuries, apart from occasional clashes and challenges." At my confused look he clarified.
"Vampires and vampaneze live roughly," Mr. Crepsley said. "We are forever testing ourselves in fights and competitions. Humans and animals are interesting opponents, but if a vampire really wants to test himself, he fights a vampaneze. It is common for vampires and vampaneze to seek each other out and fight to the death."
"That's stupid," I scoffed, there was more to life than fighting and violence.
Mr. Crepsley shrugged. "It is our way. Time has changed the vampaneze," he went on. "You noticed the red hair and nails and eyes?"
"And lips," I added.
"And he had purple skin. These changes have come about because they drink more blood than vampires. Most vampaneze are not as colorful as Murlough — he has been drinking dangerously large amounts of blood — but they all have similar markings. Except for young vampaneze — it takes a couple of decades for the colors to set in."
I thought over what I'd been told. "So the vampaneze are evil? They're why vampires have such a bad reputation?"
Mr. Crepsley rubbed his scar thoughtfully. "To say they are evil is not entirely true. To humans, they are, but to vampires they are more misdirected cousins than out-and-out ghouls."
"What?" I couldn't believe he was defending them.
"It depends on how one looks at it," he said. "You have learned to take no notice of drinking from humans, yes?"
"Yes," I said, "but —"
"Do you remember how against it you were in the beginning?"
"Yes," I said again, "but —"
"To many humans, you are evil," he said. "A young half-vampire who drinks human blood ...how long do you think it would be before somebody tried to kill you if your true identity were known?" I chewed my lower lip and thought about his words. "Do not get me wrong," Mr. Crepsley said. "I do not approve of the vampaneze and their ways. But nor do I think they are evil."
"You're saying it's okay to kill humans?" I asked warily.
"No," he disagreed. "I am saying I can see their point. Vampaneze kill because of their beliefs, not because they enjoy it. A human soldier who kills in war is not evil, is he?"
"This isn't the same thing."
"But it falls along similarly murky lines. To humans, vampaneze are evil, plain and simple. But for vampires — and you belong to the vampire clan now — it is not so easy to judge. They are kin.
"Also," he added, "the vampaneze have their noble points. They are loyal and brave. And they never break their word — when a vampaneze makes a promise, he sticks by it. If a vampaneze lies and his kinsmen find out, they will execute him, no questions asked. They have their faults, and I have no personal liking for them, but evil?" He sighed. "That is hard to say."
I frowned. "But you were going to kill this one," I reminded him. Mr. Crepsley nodded. "Murlough is not ordinary. Madness has invaded his mind. He has lost control and kills indiscriminately, feeding his lunatic lust. Were he a vampire, he would have been judged by the Generals and executed. The vampaneze, however, look more kindly upon their less fortunate members. They are loath to kill one of their own. If a vampaneze loses his mind, he is ejected from the ranks and set loose. If he keeps clear of his kind, they make no move to hinder or harm him. He is —" A groan made us jump. Looking behind, we saw the fat man stirring.
"Come," Mr. Crepsley said. "We will continue our discussion on the way to the roof." We let ourselves out of the refrigerated room and started back.
"Murlough has been roaming the world for several years," Mr. Crepsley said. "Normally, mad vampaneze do not last that long. They make silly mistakes and are soon caught and killed by humans. But Murlough is craftier than most. He still has sense enough to kill quietly and to hide the bodies. You know the myth about vampires not being able to enter a house unless they are invited inside?"
"Sure," I said. "I never believed it."
"Nor should you. But, like most myths, it has its roots in fact. The vampaneze almost never kill humans at home. They catch their prey outside, kill and feed, then hide the bodies, or disguise the wounds to make the death look accidental. Mad vampaneze normally forget these fundamental rules, but Murlough has remembered. That is how I knew he would not attack the man at home."
"How did you know he was going to attack him at all?"
"The vampaneze are traditionalists," Mr. Crepsley explained. "They select their victims in advance. They sneak into their houses while the humans are sleeping and mark them — three small scratches on the left cheek. Did you notice such marks on the fat man?" I shook my head.
"I wasn't looking."
"They are there," Mr. Crepsley assured me. "They are small — he probably thought he scratched himself while sleeping — but unmistakable once one knows what to look for: always in the same spot and always the same length. That is how I latched onto this man. Until that night I had been searching blindly, scouring the city, hoping to stumble across Murlough trail. I spotted the fat man by chance and followed him. I knew the attack would come either here or on his way home from work, so it was just a matter of sitting back and waiting for Murlough to make his move." The vampire's face darkened. "Then you arrived on the scene." He was unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
"Will you be able to find Murlough again?" I asked. He shook his head.
"Discovering the marked human was a stroke of incredible good fortune. It will not happen twice. Besides, though Murlough is mad, he is no fool. He will abandon any humans he has already marked and flee this city." Mr. Crepsley sighed unhappily. "I suppose I will have to settle for that."
"Settle for it?" I asked. "Aren't you going to follow him?" Mr. Crepsley shook his head. I stopped on the landing — we were almost at the door of the room with the pipes — and stared at him, aghast.
"Why not?" I barked. "He's crazy! He's killing people! You've got to —"
"It is not my business," the vampire said gently. "It is not my place to worry about creatures such as Murlough."
"Then why get involved in the first place?" I demanded, thinking of all the people the mad vampaneze was going to kill.
"The hands of the Vampire Generals are tied in matters such as these," Mr. Crepsley said. "They dare not take steps to eliminate mad vampaneze, for fear of sparking an all-out war. As I said, vampaneze are loyal. They would seek revenge for the murder of one of their own. We can kill vampaneze in a fair fight, but if a General killed a mad vampaneze, his allies would feel compelled to strike back. I got involved because this is the city where I was born. I lived here as a human. Though everyone I knew then has long since died, I feel attached — this city, more than any other place, is where I consider home. Gavner Purl knew this. When he realized Murlough was here, he set about tracking me down. He guessed — correctly — that I would not be able to sit back and let the mad vampaneze wreak havoc. It was a sly move on his part, but I do not blame him — in his position, I would have done the same."
"I don't get it," I said. "I thought the Vampire Generals wanted to avoid a war."
"They do."
"But if you'd killed Murlough, wouldn't —"
"No," he interrupted. "I am not a General. I am a mere vampire, with no connection to any others. The vampaneze would have come after me if they learned I had killed him, but the Generals would not have been implicated. It would have been personal. It would not have led to war."
"I see. So, now that your city is safe, you don't care about him anymore?"
"Yes," Mr. Crepsley said simply. I couldn't agree with the vampire's position — I'd have hunted Murlough down to the ends of the Earth — but I could understand it. He'd been protecting his people. Now that the threat against them had been removed, he no longer considered the vampaneze his problem. It was a typical piece of vampire logic.
"What happens now?" I asked."We go back to the Cirque Du Freak and forget about this?"
"Yes," he said. "Murlough will avoid this city in the future. He will slope away into the night and that will be that. We can return to our lives and get on with them."
"Until next time," I said sarcastically. As far as I was concerned, Murlough would always be a danger so long as we let him live.
"I have only one home," the vampire responded. "In all likelihood, there will be no next time. Come," he said. "If you have further questions, I will answer them later."
"Okay." I paused. "What we said earlier — about no more holding important stuff back — is that still on? Will you trust me now and tell me things?" The vampire smiled.
"I promise to try being more honest with you, so long as you stop all this sneaking around." he said. I returned his smile and followed him into the room with the pipes.
"How come I didn't spot Murlough footsteps earlier?" I asked, retracing the marks we'd made on our way into the building.
"He entered via a different route," Mr. Crepsley said. "I did not want to get close to him until he made his move, in case he saw me."
"Hold on!" I called Mr. Crepsley back. "We've got to get Evra."
"The snake-girl knew about this, too?" Mr. Crepsley laughed. "Hurry and get her. But do not expect me to tell the story again on her behalf. I will leave such details to you."
I cast around for my friend. "Evra," I called quietly. When there was no response I shouted a little louder. "Evra!" Where was she hiding? I glanced down and found a lone pair of foot-prints in the dust, leading away under a mass of pipes.
"Evra!" I shouted again, starting after her trail. She'd probably seen me talking with the vampire and wasn't sure what was going on.
"It's okay," I yelled. "Mr. Crepsley isn't the killer. It's another —" There was a sharp crunching noise as my foot came down on something and crushed it. Taking a step back, I bent and picked up the object for a closer look. With a sinking feeling in my gut, I realized what it was — the broken remains of a cell phone.
"Evra!" I screamed, rushing forward. I saw signs of a scuffle farther on — the dust in this area had been severely disturbed, like somebody had been thrashing around in it. Thousands of dust particles were drifting in unsettled clouds through the air.
"What is it?" Mr. Crepsley asked, approaching warily. I showed him the crushed phone. "Evra's?" he guessed. I nodded.
"The vampaneze must have got her," I said, horrified. Mr. Crepsley sighed and hung his head.
"Then... Evra is dead," he said bluntly, and kept his gaze lowered as I started to cry.