AN: Hello my dear readers! I'm in a great mood because I just finished writing the last chapter to this fanfic. Finally I can be sure it won't end up as one of many abandoned stories on my account! Let's celebrate that with a new chapter for you too.
In the first one I painted a portrait of my two OC's and their relationship with each other. Let me know what you think of the two in the comments!
Balthazar and Ria are having an awful lot of fun playing their little Dracula game. The question is though, what would an actual (say: sparkly) vampire think about it all? Let's find out!
Chapter two - The illusion
Ria couldn't sleep a wink the whole night. The encounter with the hostile vampire still sat deep in her bones. She trusted her Master of course but it scared her that she hadn't heard of him yet. She hadn't even bothered to get a room for the night. Instead she went to a casino, where she spend the whole night feeding slot machines with coins. Around here there were people and lots of them and they weren't the drunk kind that didn't notice anything like it would be the case in night clubs. Those were after all great hunting grounds for vampires.
When Balthazar finally called her, it was an hour before sunrise and that made her so mad because it meant he hadn't even thought about how scared she'd be. He was calling at the regular time.
But she swallowed her anger and focused on the fact that him calling her at this time had to mean the situation was sorted out and everything was back to normal. Balthazar didn't say much, just that she was to come home and that 'the problem' was taken care of.
When she returned to his lair he acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. From the sound if it he was more upset about the lost meal than the unwelcome visitor and told her she had three days to prepare a new meal. That would be hard to accomplish. She would probably have to donate a bit herself. That was fine though, she hadn't done so in a while.
The search for more donors kept her busy and within a couple of days, she'd pushed aside the scary memory of the other vampire. However, from that day onward she stuck to wearing a necklace with a big silver cross on it during the day wherever her master was out of town.
A few months passed and Ria continued to serve her Master faithfully, never thinking much about the incident. Until one day her Master called her to him.
"My dear Renfield, I have a special task for you", he announced one early morning. Ria was still in the process of opening all the windows to let in some air, having only just awoken.
"Huh? Oh, good morning, Master. Is another holiday coming up already?" A special task usually meant she was to prepare a liquid delicacy for him.
"Not quite. I'm going to have a visitor. On the 18th, one week from now, an old friend of mine is coming to visit. It is a mere social call but I haven't seen this one in centuries and I'd like to welcome him properly. You are to prepare two full servings for us. Do you think you can manage that?"
Ria froze and turned towards her Master slowly.
"Two f-full servings, Master? That is quite a lot…"
Ria's cooking skills were excellent but the meals she prepared were usually no more than a litre or so in total. It tasted great and her Master liked the way she would decorate the room – he'd even brought a dining table made out of mahogani for it. But even so, the meals weren't truly satisfying all on their own. If he was really thirsty, her Master drank a lot more and right from the source and he did that at least twice a week. A 'full serving' now meant that Ria would have to gather much more blood. As in, around six litres – per vampire. She'd only done that for her Master twice before, once for his 750th birthday – though she wasn't sure if he hadn't made that up because there was no holiday nearby – and once for their five year contract anniversary. A single human couldn't donate more than half a litre safely. She would have to call in all of her regulars and probably recruit a few new ones too and oh, she was almost out of ostrich blood for that special cocktail her Master preferred…
"I guess I could do a special sale for twice the price?" Ria said. She quickly went through her mental list of people she could ask and nodded slowly. "Yeah, then I should be able to draw in a few new faces. It is a lot but with a whole week to prepare… I might have to store it for longer though."
"Don't store it any longer than four days or it gets that ugly bitter aftertaste", Balthazar warned her.
"I'm gonna need more heating plates and pots and – oh Master, I'll need at least fifteen minutes per course. But that'll be alright, won't it? I mean, you'll have stuff to talk with with your guest." Her Master could get so impatient if she didn't bring the next course quickly enough, even though he knew perfectly well how long it took to warm it up. It wasn't like you could just pour it in a pot and put it on the heating plate, oh no, that would just result in a burned up mess! Once she'd tried the microwave and her Master had actually spit it right out again. Then he destroyed the microwave.
She'd spoiled him.
"Spare no expenses, my dear! I have full trust in you. You will serve us for the evening, starting at midnight. I'll even give you the following day off so you can catch up on your sleep."
"Oh, well that's nice. Thank you", Ria replied. "I'll make sure your guest feels welcome… And you'll make sure they don't eat me, won't you?"
"Certainly, Renfy", he said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, this is not like last time. As I said, it's an old friend."
Despite her optimism and great monetary bait, Ria ended up having a lot of trouble getting enough people to donate. She couldn't ask anyone either. Every type of blood tastes differently and just like you wouldn't serve sweet cocktails to a hearty steak, you wouldn't serve young female to overweight mid fifties male. They just didn't go well together. Ria by now had her pride as a cook and as a Renfield so only the best would do. With two full servings it would be impossible to offer both vampires the exact same dishes and unfortunately she didn't know the guest's preferences. So she mixed a couple of her Master's approved dishes with a few more experimental ones. All of that was making finding enough of the right people quite difficult. The last one she recruited only one hour before sundown on the day the guest would arrive. The meal was to be a brunch, starting at midnight. Her Master had told her that he'd spend the early evening alone with his guest so she had the lair to herself and could take her time decorating.
When Ria arrived in the house she put all the blood she'd only gathered today from her ice box into the fridge to the other bags waiting there. Then she cleaned the living room, vacuuming and wiping the floor, opening all the windows to let fresh air in and dusting the furniture. She wiped the grand wooden table, put on the best silverware and napkins, double checked the glasses for water spots and selected a gold-red brocade tablecloth for the occasion. The centrepiece on the table was a glass bowl filled with white beach sand, three big candles and a number of ruby red decorative stones in it. Over the years her Master had gone from having basically no dishes and dinner decorations to having the most expensive, gaudy ones.
Ria worked fast and efficient and so she even managed to have enough time leftover to close her eyes for an hour to rest before she was up again.
Now came the last part, dressing up for the event. Ria took a shower and washed her hair, using strong smelling flowery soups so her natural scent wouldn't distract from what she was confident was going to be a masterpiece. Her Master never gave her a uniform to wear when she served him a meal but she didn't think her usual attire, the Gothic outfits she wore for the pics she took for Facebook and to meet customers, were entirely appropriate here. Balthazar might not care what she wore but Ria prided herself on being a professional. Thus she'd brought herself a small wardrobe of white blouses and black pants, mini skirts and tights as well as a plain black apron so she could have something resembling a waiter's uniform for all temperatures. (She'd even put the bill for the clothes out for Balthazar to pay for, which he'd done without even looking at what it was for. Honestly her Master was so lucky she was such an honest person. She could've scammed his pants off so many times.) Ria put on some make up, put her hair in a French braid and put on some plain silver earrings and a necklace with a small single red stone - and then she was done. The clock said it was twenty to midnight. It was time to start preparing the first course.
XxX
Demetri was bored... so bored. His work for the Volturi usually involved a lot of traveling, chasing rumours of gifted vampires or rule breakers, to track them and bring them back to be assessed by the three kings. However, his superiors demanded that he spend a mandatory three months a year back at Volterra, at the very least, and a minimum of four weeks of that had to be continuous. The reason given was to 'maintain relations and work on improving teamwork', which really translated to giving Chelsea time to brainwash him. Demetri knew that that was what was happening but he couldn't say that he particularly minded. He wasn't usually a social creature and he had a hard time making friends of his own. Within a very short time though all the vampires belonging to the inner circle of the Volturi guard had become close friends to him. He liked his colleagues, really liked them. Even the annoying ones had weaselled their way into his dead heart. He knew that without Chelsea's influence, he wouldn't have felt this close to them. But for an introvert like him, it was such a relief to be able to feel so close to other people without having to invest so much time and work. Besides, Chelsea's power worked both ways so he could be sure his friends liked him too.
But even so, every year when it was time for the 'team work building exercises', he seriously considered quitting his job. And every time he would return anyway and find that he had actually missed the colorful bunch of little monsters and that it wasn't actually all that bad to spend time with them. And every time that feeling lasted about a week (every day of which he usually saw Chelsea at least once) before the boredom kicked in and he started to get wanderlust again. He enjoyed spending time with his colleagues but it was still exhausting and he still looked forward to the next mission that would take him away.
Fortunately today was his last day of his one month of being grounded. In the morning he'd joined Felix in his training. The Volturi had over thirty members, the three kings with their two wifes, ten guards in the inner circle and a changing number of lesser members. Felix was in charge of overseeing the combat training of new recruits and to make sure the other guards kept their skills sharp. Demetri had just finished a sparring match with him (Felix totally whipped his ass, as usual) and had settled down on a windowsill. He was watching his colleague humiliate one of the younger ones when his phone vibrated.
Demetri immediately pulled it out. Yesterday he'd asked Aro if there were any outstanding missions for him and he'd been told to wait for the final say till the next day. Demetri really, really hoped there was another mission, some specific target for him to track down. The alternative would be, ugh, making his rounds.
The kings knew how Demetri would grow all twitchy if cooped up in Volterra for too long but didn't want to just let him go without any orders. That's why when they didn't have anything specific for him to do, Demetri was sent to visit and check up on various covens around the world that were supposed to be allied or at least cooperative with the Volturi. It gave Demetri something to do and it reminded the vampires that the Volturi kept an eye on them, always. Unlike with a case of suspected rule breaking, Demetri would announce his visit (if he had any contact information) as he himself didn't much like unexpected visitors either. It was just polite. The Volturi had plenty of enemies. It wouldn't do to drive away those vampires not considered among them too. That didn't mean that Demetri would be welcome. Without any plausible excuse to use violence to ensure he was being treated respectfully, these meetings tended to be stiff, awkward and borderline hostile.
Unfortunately, that seemed to be his fate for the foreseeable future for the message from Aro read:
It looks like all is quiet right now\(*o*)/ Go give our sincerest greetings to some old friends ;-)
Demetri decided to look for whichever idiot thought it was a good idea to introduce Aro of all people to emojis and to give them a slow and painful death. He couldn't ever show his SMS history to anyone. Ever.
The content of the message registered only a few moments after he'd digested the ridiculousness of the front leader of the bloody global vampire government. Ugh, that meant he'd have to go and play nice with a bunch of strangers.
Demetri sighed and mentally went through his list of known Volturi associates. He'd seen the Irish coven only last year, the Spanish and the French group the year before - actually he saw all the Europeans quite often. Might as well start on another continent. Who hadn't he seen in a while? There was the Olympic coven, traveling the northern part of the USA. But the Denali sisters always tried to get into his pants and while Carlisle Cullen was an interesting vampire to converse with, he'd surrounded himself with far too many teenagers for Demetri to be comfortable among. There were the Warring Three, the covens who held Mexico and most of the southern USA. Visiting them would almost certainly result in at least one or two newborns burning to ash. They no longer build the massive armies that they had to think up epidemics for to try and explain the death count but the covens were still very large and often changed members. Demetri ruled out South America right away - it was populated entirely by nomads, all of which were either extremely independent or at least semi-hostile towards the Volturi. Demetri would keep those for last.
He wondered if he had missed anyone else on that continent before going through the Asian vampires he knew when he remembered something; a text message he'd gotten a couple of years ago. His vampiric brain granted him perfect memory so a detail like that, which most humans would have long forgotten by now, was still readily available to him. There were very few vampires on good enough terms with the Volturi to willingly let them know when they changed residence or claimed a new territory. Almost all of them were either potential recruits who wanted to be a part of the guard but hadn't been deemed worthy enough or ex-members who knew the value of good connections. Eleazar still kept them up-to-date on the movements of the Denali coven. On very rare occasions they would even still make use of him. Demetri had brought a potential recruit to Eleazar twice since he found his mate to have them read and get a better idea about how their gift worked.
To Demetri's knowledge there was one other vampire though, one who'd moved to the states a few years ago. Bartholomew was an old British vampire but he never spend much time in his homeland, preferring sunnier areas. It was not only this preference that made him a bit of an oddity in the vampiric community though. Honestly, he was almost as eccentric as Aro, which of course meant the two had gotten along wonderfully. Add to that that Aro held a certain fondness for him for having turned him himself and the Brit had quickly risen in rank. Bartholomew's gift certainly helped too. He used to be part of the guard's offense for almost two centuries. His gift wasn't as effective as that of the witch twins and in a purely physical spar, both Felix and Demetri could beat him easily enough. But he was certainly a good backup fighter to have and a serious opponent for anyone not lucky enough to be able to throw their gifts at him for afar.
Demetri had been relieved when Bartholomew had decided to leave the Volturi in the 18th century to work on a little side project Aro and him had thought up. Apparently he'd had so much fun with it that, once away from the artificial bonds that kept the Volturi together, he'd decided to dedicate his entire time to it 'until further notice'. He still came by Volterra occasionally to visit and kept them updated on where he was but he hadn't fought any battles with them for almost three centuries. Aro though too highly of him to try and force him to return. His usefulness was balanced by his annoying personality, which especially Caius disliked so they had never tried all that hard to convince him to return.
Bartholomew was annoying but at least he wouldn't try to kill him. Plus he was a loner, rarely allowing any vampires near him so that meant no unexpected surprises. Demetri took a tenths o a second to double check that the vampire was indeed still at the address he'd given. He strummed the invisible cord of the other's presence like he would the string of an instrument with his gift. He was still in Sacramento.
Decision made, Demetri typed in the new phone number he'd gotten the last time Bartholomew updated him on his whereabouts. Not that he needed an address to find him.
"Hello?", the other vampire answered once he picked up.
"This is Demetri. How are you doing?" Demetri asked, trying not to sound too bored. He wasn't really a fan of small talk.
"Demetri! What a wonderful surprise! I am doing exceptionally well, thank you for asking! How about you?" Bartholomew greeted him enthusiastically.
Demetri held his phone away from his ear because Bartholomew was being so loud. Ugh, why did he always have to get so excited about the smallest things?
"I'm doing fine. All is quiet on this end so I thought I would come and see a few old faces", he replied. It might sound like he left it up to the other to decide if he could visit or not but that was really just him being polite. He'd accept shifting his visit around a bit but any rejection would immediately be taken as suspicious and bring along more than just a social call.
"Oh, you are most welcome to visit, old friend!" Bartholomew answered. "In fact - you have to! I've got the most amazing thing to show you."
Demetri considered whether it was too late to change his mind.
"I would really only come by for an hour or two-"
"Nonsense! I'll show you around the city. Sacramento has such beautiful spots, you just have to visit them."
He sighed. "Fine. I'll be there... a week from now." He would take his time crossing the pond. The kings would call him if he was needed for anything urgent but unless they did, this was the closest to free time he would get.
"That would be the 18th then, perfect - I'll prepare everything. Oh, but do my a favour and come in after sundown, will you?"
Demetri almost groaned. "Are you still going on about that?!"
"My dear Demetri, I have a reputation to uphold!" Bartholomew replied, sounding aghast in the same way that Aro sounded friendly just before he ordered your death. "Oh, and bring a healthy appetite, will you?
"I'll be there at sundown", Demetri surrendered to his fate and ended the call. Well, at least Bartholomew didn't use emojis in his text messages.
XxX
Demetri took the long way to California - over Greece, Turkey, China, Japan and the pacific ocean. When he finally landed in San Francisco he still had over 24h to kill before he was 'allowed' to enter Bartholomew's territory. Of course the sun just had to be out when he arrived too. In the middle of summer, walking around with gloves and hooded cloaks would attract way too much attention. He ended up renting a car with tinted windows and actually keeping to the speed limit for once. As agreed upon, he only entered Sacramento at sundown. He focused on the other's presence effortlessly, strumming the familiar cord of the vampire's tenor till his gift told him exactly where to find him.
Bartholomew greeted him just inside the city borders and Demetri just barely escaped a hug. Honestly, they hadn't been that close but the Englishman had always been prone to overacting.
"It is so good to see you again, Demetri. How was your journey?" Bartholomew inquired.
"Uneventful", he grumbled, already regretting coming all the way.
"I do hope you haven't hunted yet – I've got a special treat prepared for you", Bartholomew said conspiratorially.
Demetri grew suspicious immediately. "You're not still keeping slaves in a dungeon, are you? The stink was absolutely horrible."
Bartholomew laughed as if he'd made a particularly good joke. "No, no, something far better than that! But I don't want to spoil the surprise. Let me show you my beautiful city first end we can eat together later."
Demetri didn't like the sound of that. Vampires usually hunted alone and he was no exception. Sure, in Volterra they'd have a feast now and then for special occasions but even that served the explicit purpose of forging the coven closer together. Two or more vampires eating together was usually done only between sires and their spawn or between mates. Demetri honestly wondered if Bartholomew had gone a little bit mad in the long time he'd lived without the company of any other vampires. Either that or he had screwed up big time in the recent past and wanted to do whatever he could to cosy up to the Volturi.
Suffice to say Demetri was on high alert and continued to regard his old colleague with suspicion for several hours as they went around the Capitol Park, Old Sacramento and other sights. Demetri had never been to this particular city but he honestly wasn't in the mood for the history lesson his host and tour guide seemed so eager to give him. He was thirsty, not having had any blood since he left Volterra and the longer Bartholomew prattled on, the more Demetri lost himself in fantasies of ripping out the throats of any passing human. Finally, close to midnight, Bartholomew proclaimed that it was time to show Demetri his new residence.
"Mind you, Demetri, I do have a new servant", he warned him as they approached a house that had his scent all over it. "You're familiar with my ways so please do be careful what you say in her presence and note that she is not on the menu. If you address me where she can hear, please use my current name, Balthazar."
Demetri rolled his eyes. "Fine. Are you still using the vrykolakas?"
"Hm? Oh, no, no – I've long since switched to Stoker's version. It is much more widely known these days. You are familiar with the book, aren't you?"
"I found it both dreadfully boring and at times ridiculous", he answered dryly.
"It is a bit of a dry read I suppose but what can you expect if the narrator is a lawyer – we're here." Bartholomew unlocked the front door to an unsuspecting house and immediately Demetri was hit with the overwhelming scent of fresh blood. His black eyes widened as he sucked in a sharp breath, barely keeping himself back from barging past his host to see where that overwhelmingly delicious scent came from. He heard only one steady heartbeat nearby but his nose could differentiate a good dozen different human scents in the blood. Bartholomew must've created a massacre the likes that would hardly go unnoticed.
The Volturi guard shot a half incredulous, half mad glare at his host but Bartholomew looked entirely unconcerned.
Then Demetri heard the drum of hurried feet and from upstairs a human, supposedly Bartholomew's servant, came into view. She was a female, probably in her mid-twenties with long locks of light brown hair tamed by a braid that fell over her shoulder. Her stormy grey eyes were glittering with excitement and her heart was pounding quickly. She had slightly tanned skin and a cute little nose; not a classic beauty but certainly a woman with her own charm. The female was dressed in a white blouse, black tights and a short skirt with a black apron around her slightly swaying hips that Demetri's gaze was involuntarily drawn to before he snapped his attention back to her face.
"Good evening, Master!", she greeted Bartholomew happily and gave him a little bow, then repeated the same for him. "And good evening to you too, Sir. I've been awaiting you."
Bartholomew chuckled and motioned towards the woman. "Demetri, this is my Renfield. Renfield, this is my old friend Demetri."
Demetri shot his host another incredulous look when he heard the name but the woman was entirely unfazed.
"Welcome to Sacramento. I have prepared a meal for you in the living room. Would you like to take it right away or shall I put it on hold a little longer?" she asked with a perfectly friendly sales-woman smile. Demetri was torn between his natural desire to take his meal right out of her neck and shouting at Bartholomew about what was going on here.
His host clapped his hands and said with a large grin: "Oh, let us proceed to the meal right away, dearest. We're parched."
"As you wish, Master", the woman – Demetri refused to call her by that ridiculous name even in his mind for it couldn't possibly be her real one – chirped happily, as if her employer hadn't just declared his desire to kill someone. She merely held out her arm, motioning for them to follow her.
Still not daring to take a breath lest he lose his control with such a thick scent of blood hanging in the air, Demetri reluctantly followed her lead with Bartholomew at his back. She showed him to a living room with a great wooden table and actual dishes prepared at two of the seats. It was nicely decorated, with candles lit and classical music playing on a nearby gramophone. Demetri eyed the table setting with a raised eyebrow. Whatever were they supposed to use plates for? What was with the ambiance? Just what was Bartholomew thinking?!
"Come on, don't be shy, sit down", his host encouraged him after taking his own seat when Demetri just kept standing in the room.
Stiffly and awkward Demetri did as he was told, torn between anger and confusion.
"I'll bring the first course momentarily", the woman said and left to hurry upstairs where, so the vampire noticed as he took one short breath, the scent of blood was the strongest. Yet Demetri could hear no heartbeats ,much less the screams of dying people. The blood smelled… pure, untainted by the scent of the rest of the human body.
"Bartholomew, what have you done?" he asked warily.
But his host only grinned, fangs glinting in the candle light. "Oh – you'll see. You'll like it, I'm sure!"
A moment later the female returned with a big tray on which she balanced two silver bowls and a dark green bottle. Demetri inhaled and knew immediately that the bowls held blood. He barely kept himself from lunging at her as she approached him with a smile.
"For the first course we have the Pumpkin Speciale – male teenager with high blood sugar, A minus, seasoned with elk and just a hint of turkey. This goes well with the Ménage à Trois – zero negative blood of a set of triplets, mixed with a slash of lamp. Bon appétit!"
She put down a bowl each on their plates and held up the bottle, carefully pouring them each a serving into their wine glasses.
Demetri couldn't help but stare at her. The Volturi had their own human employees in Volterra. It was a necessity seeing as they basically ruled the city but still needed an in-between for many daylight activities when it came to politics. Even so the humans were rarely aware of what the Volturi were. Those that had to be told in order to do their work rarely lived past a year. They were promised a position among them but of course they only ended up someone's lunch eventually. Most of these human servants were quite bad at hiding their fear of them. Even those that had completely fallen for the lie of being safe, of being of enough value to deserve immortality, would flinch and cower when presented with a more obvious display of what they were.
Yet this woman, this small creature was pouring blood for two thirsty vampires as if it was entirely normal. It was utterly baffling.
"Thank you, Renfield, you're a treasure", Bartholomew cooed at the human and nipped at his glass of blood. "Oh – this is very good. Demetri, you have to try it!"
But despite his thirst, Demetri's focus remained on the female as she leaned over to pour his glass. Her neck came so close to his mouth he could practically taste her skin, which was definitely distracting. His eyes followed the vein on her neck, down, down, where it vanished into her blouse, noticing how she had a very nice chest. Yes, definitely distracting.
When she drew back his hand shot out quick as a snake and he held her wrist firmly but carefully. She looked up and into his eyes, surprised but not frightened.
"What is your name, woman?" he asked hoarsely.
She smiled at him. Her whole face was glowing.
"It's Renfield, Sir. Claire Renfield."
Her answer enraged him. "Don't lie-" he hissed but Bartholomew cleared his throat, drawing his attention back to him.
"Come on now, Demetri. It's not nice to grab a woman like that. My territory, my rules – she's not on the menu."
Demetri narrowed his eyes, never lifting his gaze from the female hovering over him. Then the little minx raised an eyebrow as if in challenge, glancing down at where he still held her wrist. His desire to burrow his fangs into her neck easily doubled.
But he was a guest and he was off-duty and representing an organization that relied on the recognition of its allies as much as it relied on the terror of its enemies.
Reluctantly, he let the woman go. He refused to call her by that made up-last name so for now, he supposed Claire would do.
Claire gave a small bow, her happy sales-woman smile back in place as she returned upstairs.
Bartholomew had turned all of his attention to his bowl, spooning it into his mouth as if it was soup. Demetri was loathe to play his game but he was thirsty and so he took his own spoon and started eating.
The moment her swallowed his first mouthful though, his eyebrows rose up and up. The blood was… good. Really, really good. It wasn't stale or cold as he'd suspected from the lack of corpses he could smell in the house. It was at a perfect, lukewarm temperature and obviously still fresh. He could taste the slightly higher than normal blood sugar in it that Claire had mentioned and something else, something that caused a small explosion of spicy flavour on his tongue. It was really rather tasty.
Demetri started spooning the contents of the bowl into his mouth quickly, his throat burning at the deliciousness of it. It was only his vampiric speed and reflexes that prevented him from ruining the tablecloth with little droplets. When he was done with the bowl he gulped down the entire glass next to the dish and if possible, that one was even better. The blood was so young, three distinct but very similar tastes mingling together like colour under a painter's brush to form a new picture.
He heard a low chuckle and looked ahead to see Bartholomew regard him with amusement. His bowl was still almost entirely full.
"Well, have I promised too much?" he asked just a bit mockingly. "Do try to reign in your thirst though – more is to come but you have to take the time to truly enjoy it."
Demetri looked down at his empty bowl coated in red remains and resisted the urge to lick it clean.
"She mixes the blood together to create these… meals?" he guessed. The mere notion sounded ridiculous but after having tasted the result, Demetri was intrigued. This was the best blood he'd had since he last found a singer.
"She does indeed. My little Renfield is such a talented cook, a true gem, I tell you", Bartholomew confirmed.
Demetri shook his head. This 'course' had done little to quench his thirst but he forced himself to keep his instincts under control. He was confused, curious and wanted to know more.
"Where do you get the blood from?" he wanted to know.
"Most of it, Renfield draws herself. She's got a whole pool of volunteers that keep coming back for blood donations. Or well, not actual donations I suppose, as I'm paying for it", his host explained as he leisurely spooned down his own 'Pumpkin Speciale'.
"You have a whole group of humans that you allow to be aware!?" Demetri hissed. He had a whole tirade worth of other choice words to say but in that moment he heard Claire come back down and stopped himself.
"Of course not", Bartholomew waved his words away. "I have a select few that have proven to be able to keep their silence that I drink from directly, including my Renfield herself of course. But most of them know nothing more than vague rumours. They think they're donating blood for medical or scientific purposes."
Demetri's anger rose again at those words. He barely kept himself from jumping to his feet at the sheer nerve of that admission. Claire collected his empty dishes, never knowing how close the vampire was to lunging past her over the table at her 'Master'.
"You drink from them-"
Demetri's mind was filled with pictures of corpses all over the city, all sporting obvious fang marks and drained of all blood.
"Regularly so, yes", Bartholomew replied with a warning tone. Then he turned towards the woman with a cheerful smile. "Isn't that right, Renfield?"
"Quite so, Master", she confirmed calmly and took his empty dish as he gave it to her.
Regularly. That was not possible of course. Once bitten a human was as good as dead. Those that survived only did so by turning. Demetri glanced at Claire. He watched her as she went back up, this time paying more attention to the side of her neck that was previously turned away from him. There were two little scarred-over indentations in her neck.
"How?" he snarled-whispered once the woman was back upstairs again.
Bartholomew made a show of looking to his left and right, then grinned conspiratorially and slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his open jacket. He pulled out a small steel contraption, looking like a severed knuckle ring with two fang-like steel thorns protruding from it.
Demetri just stared incredulously.
"You're faking vampire bites!?"
"Quite ingenious, isn't it? All those annoying vampire romance novels are actually quite useful now. I just bend them over like a dance partner, hold their head in place so they can't turn around and place my hand just so while I drain them. Nobody ever notices, not even my little Renfy herself."
Demetri glared at him. "Don't you think you're way too obvious?!"
Bartholomew sighed and lowered his volume as he spoke so no human could hear him. "Look, Demetri – that's the whole point of what I'm doing here. I'm strengthening vampire myths and spreading false and conflicting information. If any human ever actually survived meeting and recognizing a vampire and tried to prove they were real, the stories I've build will make it so much harder for them to be believed, much less pin any sort of weakness on us. That's what this little propaganda project of Aro and me is based on – and it works! I've helped to create over a dozen different kinds of vampire myths over the years, all following different rules with different characteristics. And today almost nobody in the civilized world still believes we exist! The people that nourish me know I'm a vampire – but their understanding of what a vampire actually is couldn't be farther from reality!"
Demetri hissed right back at him in an equally low volume: "This isn't the same as digging up graves and spreading rumours about disfigured bats or... or putting garden gnomes on people's chest as they sleep and blame their disease and nightmares on demons! This human you keep is obviously very familiar with you! She knows you drink blood, she knows you have to avoid the sunlight, she's seen your skin, your red eyes..."
Bartholomew raised a finger. "First of all, I've never put gnomes on people's chests but I admire your creativity. Second of all, Renfield also thinks I shy away from crosses and cannot enter holy ground, are being chased away by garlic and burst into flames in direct daylight, even when it's cloudy. I sleep like a rock at night in a coffin filled with earth from my homeland, cannot cross flowing water or enter a private abode uninvited and have no need to kill or turn the humans I drink from. Oh, and she thinks I'm forever wary of any vampire hunters that might kill me with a wooden stake through the heart."
Demetri was baffled and fell silent for a moment.
"She really... believes all that?" It must take a tremendous bit of acting and quite some limitations in his life style to keep up such lies.
Bartholomew nodded, perfectly serious. "As far as Renfield knows, I always stick to the southwestern side of Sacramento because I can't cross the rivers unless I'm being ferried in my coffin. I've got a fortified off-limits basement that I make sure she sees me going into often at sunrise. Although obviously, she doesn't know about the hidden exit inside that leads to the canalization. I'm just avoiding her during the day, I'm not actually imprisoning myself in my own home, that would be going a bit far. But most of the work I supposedly pay her for is about 'protecting my lair during the day when I'm vulnerable'."
"When in reality she's guarding an empty house", Demetri finished for him.
"Exactly", Bartholomew confirmed just as Claire came down with the second course.
"Here you go, gentlemen: Lynx tea with shark soup for our guest and one Ocean Blue Lagoon for you, Master."
A second bowl of blood was placed in front of Demetri as well as a big glass with dark blood in which he could faintly make out something float. He scrunched up his nose, thinking maybe the blood had gone bad. But when he saw his host thank her and take a big mouthful he reluctantly tried it himself.
Now that his senses were no longer so clouded by thirst, Demetri could indeed taste the animal blood mixed into the human blood. What should've ruined the taste of a perfectly fine drink however instead surprisingly enhanced it with its contrast of both taste and texture. The so called shark soup too was obviously still almost entirety made of human blood. But there was indeed a weird aftertaste to it. It wasn't unpleasant, just different. Demetri tried to put a name on what it tasted like but he had no comparison. Eventually he settled on "fishy", even though he lacked any human memory of what fish tasted like. He hadn't ever had shark blood as a vampire either but the pattern in the meals was becoming obvious. Claire was mixing very small amounts of animal blood into the human blood to give it a new and interesting taste. It wasn't always an improvement or enhancement. But while to vampires different people tasted differently, it was still nowhere near the variety humans had in their food. To taste such a variety now, always in small amounts, just enough to tease and make him curious but, as more courses kept coming, also quench his thirst... He had to admit it was a rather enjoyable experience.
Demetri was more measured and slower in drinking his fill this time around. He pondered over Bartholomew's words and wondered what Aro would think about it. Bartholomew had always been given more leeway than usual when it came to revealing his nature as his actions ultimately served to hide their kind. His gift made him uniquely suited for spreading such false information. At least that's how the exception that was made for him was usually justified. But it was exactly because the strategy had worked so well, because humans in general no longer believed in them that Demetri thought it was dangerous to keep strengthening these myths. Had the project not already fulfilled its purpose? Wasn't it time to let the legends die?
"Was the food to your liking, Sir?" the female asked him as she came to collect the dishes.
Demetri felt thrown off and scowled at the pretty woman in slight confusion. It was like she was a waitress in a human restaurant. The Volturi obviously didn't visit such establishments often but he had sometimes played the part when meeting human businessmen or majors of Volterra. To find himself in such a typically human situation and yet not need to hide what he was... It was part of the experience, the surprise his host had prepared for him, he realized. He could see the appeal of it. It even made him feel a bit nostalgic as he smiled politely at the servant and said:
"It was very good, thank you. My compliments to the kitchen."
She chuckled at that. "I'll tell the pots and pans, Sir, they'll be delighted."
Demetri couldn't help but chuckle too. Not just a pretty face then but witty too.
Yes, he thought as he watched her go, he could see the appeal of a servant who wasn't afraid, who you were allowed to keep so long as you kept lying to them and who brought you such a delicious variety of blood. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe Bartholomew had grown so used to the comforts of his life he missed the mark of when he overstepped his boundaries.
In the end though that was for Aro to decide. Demetri was only here to gather information.
The two vampires were on their third course when Bartholomew told him all about the blood tasting him and Claire had done and how large his pool of donors had become over the years. The more he heard, the more alarmed Demetri grew but the more curious he was too. How could it be that so many people had learned or must at least suspect about vampires and yet there had been no large outcry? Even without any murders or missing persons, surely just the concept of the supernatural would scare humans into forming angry mobs?
After the fifth and final course, Demetri was fully satiated and could freely admit that it was the best meal he'd ever had short of the two occasions during his millennia long life when he'd been blessed with the opportunity to taste a singer.
His worries about Bartholomew's life style still persisted though so he told his host:
"I have to say, that was one of the most delicious meals I've ever had. Your cook is doing a great job."
"Doesn't she!?" Bartholomew exclaimed, obviously pleased that Demetri shared his opinion. "I'm not sure if she's just that special or if it's this century that produces humans like her, those that become curious and enthusiastic when confronted with our kind instead of fearful."
"Hm, I do wonder. Say, you wouldn't object if I borrowed her for a day or two, would you? I am so very curious about how this whole deal is working out and would love to learn more."
Now for the first time Bartholomew hesitated and even gave him a small scowl. His eyes flickered up for a moment. On the floor above they could hear Claire starting to wash the dishes.
"To be honest, I don't think that would be very wise, Demetri", Bartholomew cautioned him. "You certainly couldn't meet her during the day, for obvious reasons. Today was a special occasion that she worked hard to prepare for the past two weeks. Normally she spends most nights asleep. You can talk to her a bit more before she turns in for the night but I gave her tomorrow off. If you stay for longer, you may see her again in the evenings. But even then, I would ask that you do not seek her out more than strictly necessary. You are unfamiliar and unpractised when it comes to the illusions I've build. One wrong word from you and she may doubt the validity of my construct. I'd hate to have to put her down because of a careless mistake."
Demetri felt a spark of anger in his chest. The sheer hypocrisy was getting to him. On the one hand, Bartholomew was waxing poetic about how much he appreciated Claire. On the other, he called her by that degrading name, made her follow silly and unnecessary rules, sacrifice most of her waking hours on useless tasks and spoke about her death as one would speak about ending a sick pet. That's what she really was to him, Demetri realized. Claire was Bartholomew's pet human. Her cage had no bars but it existed in her mind, in the way the ancient vampire had carefully manipulated her over years and build her loyalty. Demetri suddenly felt disgusted by his host. It was one thing to kill humans for their blood but to keep them by your side, nurturing them, taking sips here and there, imprisoning them in their own mind...
And he knew for a fact that Bartholomew drank from Claire too. It wasn't just the old bite marks. The last course had clearly contained Claire's own blood, though she had served it only for her 'Master', not for the Volturi. Demetri felt another burst of anger at the thought of that level of devotion being given to one so undeserving, one who would kill her with minimal regret if she made a mistake or one day proved herself to be too smart.
"If you worry about that so much, why haven't you turned her?" he challenged him.
"I have no patience for newborns", Bartholomew said with a snort. "They're always so hard to get rid of, getting clingy, following you everywhere, leaving a mess... Renfield is doing an excellent job as my servant but she can only do that because walks in the light. Humans trust her easily. That would all be ruined if she were to turn. But she's also clever. All it would take is for you to forget to flinch at the sight of a cross and she might get suspicious."
"I understand your concerns", he replied, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to remain polite. He was still representing his coven and it would be unseemly to insult a vampire this old over a human. "However, I am sure I would have no trouble following the rules you laid out for me. I understand you pay her for her services. Why don't you let me offer her an opportunity to earn something extra with a couple of night shifts?"
"I really don't think-" Bartholomew made but Demetri interrupted him with a warning tone:
"I'm not asking, Balthazar. It is my duty to make sure our laws are being upheld. You may be a friend of Lord Aro but I have every intention to make sure this project of yours doesn't get out of hand."
Bartholomew was silent for a few moments longer, leisurely swirling a last rest of blood in his wine glass as he regarded Demetri with caution. Finally, he sighed and put the glass down.
"Very well. I will agree, if Renfield accepts your offer. You will need a good story though. You are here as my guest, it would hardly make sense to ask her to show you around town or some such nonsense."
Demetri nodded curtly and crossed his arms in front of him. "What do you usually do when you spend time with her?"
"Well that is the problem. I give her orders, tasks to complete in the evenings for the following day and she reports her progress on previous orders. Most of it has to do with finding donors and her kitchen work. She also helps me to organize trips to various human entertainment venues, booking tickets, flights, renting cars, that kind of thing. She deals with my finances as well. All of these are tasks that she does on her own with minimal input from me. The most time we spend together is when she's serving me meals."
Demetri corrected his initial assessment. Claire wasn't a pet to this vampire. She was his slave. He may pay her money for her work but she was employed under false pretences and if she made a mistake, she would be killed.
For a short moment, Demetri well and truly hated Bartholomew. He wanted nothing more than to take that human away from him, to turn that little chick into a blazing phoenix by sinking his fangs into her warm skin, taste her blood and make her his and pull away the veil of lies that she was forced to live behind.
The Volturi shook himself out of such thoughts. Those feelings were entirely inappropriate. Bartholomew was an ally, as much as he disliked that fact. As a representative of his coven, he couldn't just take what he'd claimed as his own. It wasn't like humans had any rights in the vampire world. If Claire were like them, if she were one of those newborn soldiers he sometimes encountered who were being manipulated by their sire into believing various fake vampire myths to keep them under control, then it might've been different. But she was human and she was claimed and Bartholomew still had official permission to keep her, however shaky his grounds might be right now.
"What does Claire know about our abilities?" Demetri wanted to know.
"She believes that we are capable of displaying short bursts of superhuman strength and speed. I mostly restrain myself around her though, so she does not realize that such displays are our normal state of being rather the result of great effort. I do take a car to go around town when I'm meeting any humans, for example. She knows about our superior senses, as I needed to explain my impressions of her culinary skills to her. She knows that we are tough and cannot be hurt by normal means. She does believe that crosses and wood are a magical weakness of ours though. I've made a distaste for any sort of church known to her but I haven't confirmed one way or another if holy water would harm me. According to modern legend, it should. Obviously though I'd have no way of telling normal from holy water if she ever decided to test it. Luckily she'd never dare to do that", Bartholomew explained.
After a bit of thinking, Demetri said:
"I can claim to want to try out various shows or movies around town and ask her to accompany me."
But Bartholomew shook his head. "I don't take her to those kinds of events, it would make her suspicious if you did. She only buys me the tickets. With my money, of course. You need to find something that she can provide for you but I could not. Mere company doesn't count."
He huffed, frustrated. "Well what do you suggest then?"
Bartholomew gave him an evil smile that immediately but Demetri on edge. He cleared his throat and in his best acting voice proclaimed:
"You are a several centuries old vampire who has not yet fully arrived in the 21st century. You travel around on foot or horse by night and have your coffin sent ahead via postal service. Unfortunately, the post delayed the delivery. They do that quite often, it is entirely believable. I do have a guest coffin in my basement and enough earth samples from around the world to make your stay here comfortable. However, you have an important appointment in a nearby city and will need a new traveling coffin for the interim. You are now suspicious of the postal service and thus ask to borrow my servant to ferry your coffin, with you within it during the day, to your next destination. You will need her to drive the car since obviously, you never bothered to learn how to do that yourself, thinking cars a modern passing fancy. I'll give you leave to borrow Renfield for three days and three nights, starting the day after tomorrow. This way, you get plenty of time to interact with her during the evenings while she still fulfils an obvious purpose in line with my illusion."
Demetri glared at the younger vampire. He was supposed to pretend not to know how to drive? Demetri was the main driver for the king's limousine as well as the pilot and navigator for the coven jet!
"That's the most ridiculous story I've ever heard", he snarled.
Bartholomew spread out his hands and grinned widely. "And that, my dear friend, is the point."
Demetri took a few seconds to seriously consider how mad Aro would be if he killed Bartholomew. If he brought a newly turned Claire home with him and she provided his coven with her delicious meals, surely he would be forgiven for the transgression?
Unfortunately, Aro's friendship with Bartholomew wasn't the only ace up his sleeve. Marcus and Caius might find his personality annoying but he was still gifted and very useful in a fight. On top of that he was a trained fighter and familiar enough with the core guard to work well with them if need be. That alone made him worth much more as an ally than a newborn vampire whose only talent was her cooking skills.
The Volturi let out a sigh. "Very well. I will go with your story." As much as he hated it, Bartholomew was the only one who knew all the details of the lies he spun. He knew best which story would be the most convincing. If Demetri unknowingly broke one of his rules and Claire grew suspicious, she'd be a walking breach of secrecy. One he would have to dispose of.
Her life literally depended on Demetri's successful impression of a Bram Stoker vampire.
"Wait, you will?" Bartholomew asked, blinking in slight confusion. He obviously hadn't expected him to comply. "I mean, of course you will. It's a brilliant idea. And believe it or not, it can be a lot of fun too."
Their conversation until now had been too fast and quiet for a human to follow, especially with Claire still busy upstairs. Now though Bartholomew clapped his hands loudly.
"Renfield! Come down here for a moment, will you, dear?"
They heard the clatter of some dishes being put away before Claire came walking down the stairs.
"Yes Master?" she addressed him politely.
Bartholomew motioned towards Demetri. "My dear friend here had a bit of trouble with the delivery of his traveling coffin. That's not a problem while he's staying with me but he has to be somewhere on the 21th. He's asked if you would be willing to help him on his journey." He motioned for Demetri to speak.
The Volturi closed his eyes for a moment, trying hard not to grimace as he prepared to rely the lie. He felt like something (probably his pride) died in him as he made up a story that fit his host's narrative.
If Claire thought it weird or suspicious, she didn't show it. In fact she was very professional as she asked him a number of questions about what he'd need and what he'd offer in return. It didn't escape Demetri's notice how she would keep glancing at her 'Master' constantly as if making sure that he was alright with what they discussed. It rankled him. She was speaking to him, why did she have to keep looking at Bartholomew?!
In the end they agreed on meeting on the 20th at sundown. Claire would organize a car and and drive it till they reached their destination. Of course Demetri didn't actually have anywhere urgent to be but if he had to suffer through this road trip he might as well make it part of his rounds. The Cullen clan lived a good 13 hour car drive away and they were on his list of people he'd procrastinated a visit to. Unlike Bartholomew, Carlisle Cullen wasn't so polite to keep the Volturi updated on his current address. Of course that was of little concern to the tracker.
Demetri would pay Claire for all expenses and 500$ a day for her work. It was an inconsequential amount in his books but one that made her eyes gleam. Claire made sure to put emphasis on her blood not being part of the deal. Having only donated today, her body needed time to replenish the lost amount. Demetri had a hard time not falling out of role as she said this. Obviously he wouldn't feed on her. That shouldn't have to be stated, seeing as feeding victims didn't usually survive. And since Demetri didn't possess Bartholomew's gift, he couldn't really fake a survivable feeding. But Demetri held his tongue and merely promised the human that no harm would come to her and she seemed satisfied with that.
XxX
The day after she greeted the visitor, Ria was both nervous and excited. This Demetri was only the third vampire she met and the first one her Master considered 'a friend'. He hadn't seemed all that friendly. He was curt with her Master, didn't talk much and just seemed overall uncomfortable for most of the evening that she served them. That's what had her nervous. It bothered her, seeing as she'd worked really hard to prepare not just a delicious meal but also clean and decorate the venue. Well at least he was polite enough to Ria and he even smiled at her a few times (he hadn't smiled at Balthazar even once!) so she supposed she shouldn't worry that his behaviour had something to do with her lacking skills as a Renfield. On the contrary, his request to hire her for a few days, while unexpected, told her that he was indeed impressed with her. It made her go all fuzzy and warm inside. Purely because of her professional pride of course. It had nothing to do with his roguish good looks, his silky, tussled black hair framing that pair of ruby-like eyes in that perfect face with that masculine bone structure that - achem. No, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was hot. She was woman enough to admit that he was - hot, that is, probably the hottest man she'd ever seen. Which was saying something seeing as her Master could give every male model a run for their money himself, despite looking about twenty years her elder. But that was not why she - okay, who was she kidding, yes that was exactly what had her excited and nearly bouncing with every step as she went about her day.
But her superficial feelings of attraction wouldn't get in the way of her professionalism. She'd do the job, take care of Demetri on his trip and then return to her Master's side. Hopefully without any blunders that would test this unknown vampire's temper. Ria wasn't stupid, she knew that there was a certain danger to accompanying a foreign vampire, to travel with him far enough that her Master wouldn't be able to help her if she got in trouble. Balthazar had seemed unconcerned with lending her out, though he had made several remarks warning Demetri to bring her back on time and unharmed. She was actually a bit touched that he would claim her so, making sure she belonged to him. It reassured her. Her Master wouldn't lend her out if he thought Demetri might be a danger to her. Plus they'd left the choice up to her. She appreciated that too. Balthazar could've just ordered her to do the trip and consider it part of her regular work for him. Instead she would get a nice cash bonus out of it. Ria was actually saving up for her very own flat for when her Master started a new life circle. They'd be on the road for three days; that was 1500$ that would go into her savings. The trip would start at sundown, continue through the entire night until they reached Port Angelus or until Ria was too tired and would have to find a place to rest. She'd sleep through the day and would drive the rest of the way, if necessary, in the late afternoon so that by sundown, they would definitely be close enough that Demetri could walk the rest of the way to his destination. He'd spend the night there and be back by sunrise. Then Ria would have the whole day after and most of the night to make the trip back.
The schedule would mess majorly with her sleep cycle and she wasn't used to driving for so long. She warned Demetri that she might have to rest for a few hours in between but she was confident that she could get him where he needed to be on time.
Before the trip started however, there was still lots to do. She may be off today but she didn't want to squeeze in everything tomorrow. That would be too much last minute for her tastes. So after sleeping in for a long time, she got to work.
Ria rented out a big black van. She used a program on her PC to create a fake funerary logo, which she ordered to be made into a huge sticker that she could put on the van, just in case anyone opened it and wondered about the coffin inside. Then she called a couple of actual funerary homes until she found one that gave a her an appointment on short notice late in the evening to look at some coffins.
From her travels with her Master she still had all of her cameras, motion sensors and other equipment which she now fit in and outside of her van. The cameras connected to her phone so she had access to them at all times. Vampires were obviously very vulnerable during travels. If Ria was to drive through the night, that would mean having to sleep during the day. She couldn't sleep in a motel since she couldn't leave the coffin alone in daylight. So instead she would move the seats inside the van to sleep there. With her phone connected to the cameras and sensors, they would let her know if anyone approached and wake her up with a ringtone, or notify her if she was off to buy food or use the bathroom or something. Demetri hadn't mentioned any hunters on his tail. But Ria did own a shotgun and she had taken lessons in how to aim it. After all, she couldn't very well protect her Master during the day if she had no way to defend him. So Ria made sure to clean her weapon and stock up on her ammunition.
When the sun went down on the evening of the 20th, she was fully prepared for all eventualities. Demetri and Balthazar emerged from the basement together just as the last rays of sunshine vanished behind the horizon. Ria was already waiting, sitting on the stairs and sprang to her feet when she heard their footsteps.
"Good evening, Renfield", her Master greeted her. He gave a huge yawn and stretched himself. Ria felt with him. She was not a morning person either and for him to be up already, his guest must've woken him while it was still light outside.
"Good evening Master, and good evening to you too, Mr Demetri", she greeted them both and gave a small bow. "I hope you had a good day's rest."
She thought she saw their guest wince for a moment.
"Just Demetri is fine", he grumbled. "I would like to leave right away. Are you ready?"
Ria nodded. "I've made an appointment for you to pick out a new coffin. We've got to be at the shop in half an hour."
Balthazar clapped his hands, looking from Demetri to Ria and back again. "Well then, I hope you have a pleasant journey. Renfield, you be on your best behaviour. Demetri, no biting."
Demetri looked affronted but Ria took his words seriously and promised she would do her best on the job.
As the door closed behind her, Ria felt slightly uneasy, being alone with this vampire she barely knew but she straightened her shoulders and reminded herself that she was a professional Renfield. She could do this.
"What in the world is that?" Demetri stopped and asked when Ria lead him to the rental van.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, confused by his tone. "It's the car I picked up."
"A funerary car?!" he exclaimed as Ria opened the back of the van.
"Of course. How else would I explain carting around a coffin?" She rummaged in the back and held up a shiny new black suit still in plastic wraps that she'd brought the day before. She held it up against Demetri and decided that she'd judged his size correctly. The vampire looked at her like she was crazy so she patiently explained:
"When I made the appointment I told them that my brother died recently and will be buried in his home town, two states over. But, he left specific instructions on how he wanted to be buried and the funerary service my parents hired don't have a coffin to his specifications. However, I saw a fitting one on the website of the one we're going to. You are a representative of the funerary home in charge of burying my brother. This is your van and you're driving it, accompanying me to buy a particular coffin. I will play the grieving sister and you accompany me to advice me on my purchase and help to load up the coffin. I will ask to be left alone with the coffins, which will give you the opportunity to look around and pick one. Of course, you will have to look the part to play your role so I took the liberty to pick out something more fitting for you to wear than those... robes." She looked him up and down critically. Balthazar sometimes dressed like he was still in the 17th century but Demetri looked positively medieval in that long silk black robe of his, like he really was used to living in a castle. Two days ago, when she served him his meal, he'd removed the robe so she knew he was wearing normal modern pants and a black dress shirt underneath. But still, robes? Together with that heavy golden pendant sporting a big 'V' in the middle that rested on his chest, he looked like a satanist. (Maybe he was?)
"With this suit you can pose both as an employee of a funerary home as well as a recently deceased, in the unlikely event that anyone opens the coffin while you're sleeping. Which won't happen, of course", she hurried to reassure him when she saw his aghast expression. "I'm going to make sure of that! There's absolutely nothing to worry about! I'd just like to be thorough. I was stopped by customs once when crossing the border with my Master. All the windows in the van are tinted and as you can see I've also attached a black curtain. So even if someone insisted to look inside the coffin during the day, no light would get in from outside. And in case of an emergency, I've got my firearm. I will take good care of you, I promise." She knew he was rambling and Demetri still looked incredulous. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and she wondered if she'd upset him.
"Fine", he grit out in the end. "Give me that." He practically ripped the suit out of her hand.
She felt that he was in a bad mood and felt uneasy about her next words but they were short on time.
"Uhm, we kind of have to hurry. I'll just get behind the wheel, you don't mind changing in the back, do you?"
He gave her a look like he wanted to wring her neck.
"Alright then, I'll be up front", she said hurriedly and fled into the driver's seat. Jeez, she hoped he wouldn't be this touchy for the whole journey.
The back door to the van slammed behind her and she could hear rustling in the back behind the curtain but she didn't pay it any mind as she started the car. It wasn't even two minutes later though that she made an embarrassing 'eep!' sound when Demetri climbed up from behind, now sporting the black suit, and dropped down into the seat next to her.
"I-I hope the clothes fit", she stammered, a bit flustered by the speed he moved at.
"The size is correct, though this attire feels inappropriate", he grumbled without looking at her.
"I thought it would go well with the story", she mumbled self-consciously. Ria glanced down at her own short black dress. It was a frilly thing, one of her casual gothic outfits actually, if a bit more fancy. She wore black tights to it and a necklace and earrings with embedded onyx. The dress was light enough to be worn in the summer heat yet appropriate for a funeral. She'd packed a black pantsuit for the next day, as her role would switch from grieving sister to an employee of a funerary home transporting a 'client' herself.
Demetri spoke little more on the way to the funerary home and she had a feeling that he was sulking. She could not understand why - surely he'd had to play similar charades when traveling before? Even if he lacked a personal Renfield of his own, he must've worked with humans before?
They arrived at their destination. Ria reached into her handbag where she stored a small vial of onion juice she'd squeezed freshly just a few hours ago. She put some of it on a tissue and dabbed it underneath her eyes and nose until her eyes produced some rather convincing tears.
Demetri was looking at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"What? I need to look convincing, don't I?" She tried hard not to snap but his attitude was starting to annoy her. He was taking all the fun out this!
"Come on, try showing me some concern. My brother just died!" She looked at him challenging through her tear-streaked eyes.
"Do you even have a brother?" he retorted incredulously.
"What's that got to do with anything?" she replied flippantly.
He gave her a scowl, which she returned when she realized how rude that sounded. She would never dare talk to her Master like that. Not because she feared punishment - she rarely ever got punished and if she was, it was only by missing out on a bonus payment or something. That hardly mattered though. She wanted to make her Master happy and she relished in his praise. Demetri was just a temporary client. He would be gone in a few days and even if she was a bit rude, he wouldn't hurt her. She was under her Master's protection after all.
Ria checked her eyes again in the car's mirror and wiped away some runaway mascara, leaving just enough smudges around her puffy red eyes to show that she'd cried recently but not enough to appear a mess.
Then she hopped out of the car, took one deep breath and stretched her arms, focusing on her role. When she let out the breath again she let her shoulders sag, gave a little quiver and hugged herself as she internalized the fake grief of her role.
"My name is Sarah Monroe. My dear beloved brother Justin died in a knifing and it is up to me to make sure he will be given all the honours he wished for." She turned towards Demetri who was slowly stepping up to her. "Mr Wiley from Wiley and Sons, would you please accompany me?" she asked, nodding towards the fake letters she'd put on the rental car.
"It seems I must", Demetri replied with a long suffering sign and followed her.
Sporting her best subdued expression, Ria entered the funerary home. They were greeted by the director who quietly expressed his condolences to Ria.
"Good evening Ms Monroe. How fortunate that we could make this appointment on short notice. Please know that I am very sorry for your loss."
"Oh, thank you. It was such a shock to all of us", she said earnestly and quickly blinked away her onion tears. "Justin was... he was..." She hiccupped and the director made soothing noises and offered her something to drink.
"Oh, thank you. Yes, a glass of water would be great."
As the director turned to get her some water, Ria caught sight of a pamphlet sitting on a nearby table. She motioned for Demetri to grab it, which he did, flipping through to coffins on sale.
Ria made a bit more small talk with the director. Eventually he brought her and Demetri to a separate hall where several coffins were propped up on display. He explained how he could modify one to fit her needs but would need more time to do so. Her request of simply buying and taking a coffin with her was highly unusual.
In the middle of his explanation Ria burst into tears again.
"E-Excuse me! I am so sorry, it's just - I - I need some time. Excuse. Could you... Could you give me a moment?" she asked the director, then pulled out a tissue to loudly clean her nose.
"Oh, of course. Please, take all the time you need", he said softly.
The moment he left the hall, Ria wiped away her tears, her subdued demeanour gone as she put away her tissue.
"Alright, we don't have much time. Do you see a coffin you like? One that fits you?"
Demetri only gave the selection a cursory glance. "Any of those would do", he said, vaguely pointing to a set of three.
Ria walked over to them. The three coffins were all quite different. One was dark brown, one black and one white, of different shapes and sizes. She regarded them sceptically, then looked back at Demetri to judge his size.
"Well then, do you want to try them out?"
Demetri stared at her. "Excuse me?"
"A coffin for you is like a bed, isn't it? You have to test it before you buy it! These things are expensive. I don't want you complaining about getting cramps or back pains or anything."
"I'm not going to test", he refused.
"Why not?" she asked, honestly confused. "Look at the padding inside." She started pushing against the red padding inside the white coffin that stood open. "It looks soft on first glance but it's actually quite hard. I can't imagine that would be very comfortable."
She continued poking at the padding sceptically. Eventually she heard Demetri mutter something like "I can't believe I'm doing this." The next moment there was a whoosh of air and suddenly Demetri was sitting in the brown coffin next to her.
"There. It's fine, let's take this one."
"Wait!" she exclaimed as he moved to get out again. "Lie down properly, will you?"
Demetri rolled his eyes but lied down. She walked over to him, peering down at his still form. He fit inside, alright, but there really wasn't much wriggle room.
"That looks like a tight fit. Why don't you try the black one instead, it looks much bigger."
"I'm not going to lie in that things!", Demetri refused, staring at the sleek black coffin with silver linings in disgust.
"Why not? We only have three to chose from, you've got to at least test them all", she insisted.
"It's purple", Demetri all but spat.
Ria looked over and indeed, the padding inside the black coffin was purple.
"Oh come on! Nobody is going to see that when it's closed. You can always have it changed later or just switch back to your normal traveling coffin. The brown one will be too small, I tell you! You have to remember that you still have to fill it with at least two inches of earth!"
Demetri gave a little growl but switched over to lie in the black coffin at superhuman speed. She hurried over to him before he could jump out again. Already she could see that it was a far better fit. She pushed her hand against his chest, preventing him from sitting up.
"Wait a moment! Let me close it, then you really get a feeling for how much more spacious this one is." Without waiting for his reply, she slowly lowered the heavy lit on top of him. She waited a few moments, listening to him rustling inside, then opened it again.
"Well?" she asked. "I expect you could even use a flashlight and read a book or something inside this one. How's the padding?"
"Still purple", Demetri growled.
She rolled her eyes. "I could use some spray paint to quickly change the color but then the entire coffin would smell like paint. You don't want that in your nose the entire day, do you?"
"I'll try the white one", the vampire muttered and flitted over to the last coffin. He tossed and turned in that one too until he sat up at last.
Ria stood with her arms crossed, waiting for his verdict.
He hesitated.
"The black one is the most comfortable", he admitted at last.
Ria nodded, smirking. She loved being right but refrained from rubbing it into his face.
"We'll take the black one then. Do you have that much cash on hand? If not, since it's supposedly me buying it, I can also purchase it with my Master's credit card and you can transfer the funds back later."
"No need", he said, reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny black card from his wallet. Ria's eyes widened when he handed it to her and told her the code.
"You can keep it until the end of the trip."
"Oh, uhm. Alright. I didn't know you had a bank account." It had taken her Master about half a year to trust her with his money to the extend of just giving her a free pass like this. The idea of a broke vampire was weird but seeing how Demetri was unaccustomed to the 21st century, she had half expected his century's worth of wealth to still be bound in gold coins and gems or something.
"You're not the first mortal I've worked with", Demetri offered in explanation.
Her eyes lit up as she understood. "Oooh, so you do have a Renfield after all? There're just waiting for you back home? Where was that again, Russia?"
"I don't-" He stopped himself, looking almost flustered. Then he sighed. "I don't have a personal servant. I'm part of a larger coven and it's the coven leaders who deal with any humans that organize things like this for us. And I'm not Russian. I'm Greek. Demetrius is no longer a widely used name so I use a shorter version."
Ria's eyes blazed at learning yet another detail about her vampire client. Anything to do with the supernatural was utterly fascinating to her.
"Demetrius! That's a name originating from Demeter, the goddess of farming and fertility, isn't it? That makes sense, it fits you." Demetri gave her that incredulous look again and Ria flashed scarlet when she realized what she'd just said. It was just that Demetri was so handsome he looked like a Greek god. For him to actually be Greek and named after a divine being, not to mention one associated with - okay she had to stop her thoughts from running down that dirty path. That was anything but professional.
"Aaaaanyway", she said and turned on her heel, "since I've found the coffin I wish to bury my dear beloved non-existing brother in, I should go tell the director."
She pulled out her onion juice again to redo her tears, slipped back into her role as Sarah and went to finalize the purchase. After that it was up to Demetri to play his role and work with the director to load the coffin into the van without giving away the fact that he could've lifted it with one hand if he wanted to. To his credit, he played that role decently enough, if a bit stiffly. It took Ria a while to shake off the director who insisted he could do a refitting or help in any other way with the funeral. Once the coffin was loaded in and the director left, Ria rummaged around in the back of the van for the plastic bag filled with earth her Master had given her and distributed it evenly within the coffin.
All in all the whole visit took about an hour before Ria was finally behind the wheel again and started on her way to Port Angelus. They'd taken the first hurdle. Now the real journey began.