6. Old Friends, Always Good for a Kidnapping

“Perry, come on,” shouted Nick, his voice muffled by the black bag on his head. The fabric was musty and stank like it hadn’t been washed between kidnapping victims. “You were supposed to fight the vampires, not join them!” The floor jostled beneath him, knocking Nick to his side. His head collided with a metal rivet on the floor. Blinding pain shot white across his otherwise darkened vision.

“Either Perry can’t hear us, or she’s ignoring you. My bet is on the latter,” James answered from nearby. “So, are we about to get eaten, turned into vampires, or a little bit of both?”

Warm blood trickled down the side of Nick’s face as he shuffled to a seated position again. “None of the above is always an option.”

Lopsang vomited nearby.

“How the hell did Perry manage to take you two on by herself again? What happened to the badass who snapped a damned shotgun in half?” Nick wasn’t really angry but berating the two of them helped him think.

“Someone was too busy trying to get their hands on what I can loosely assume was corpse pizza.”

Nick could almost see the defeated shrug.

“It’s not my fault we never stopped for food.” Lopsang’s words had moved from slurred to choppy, like a skipping record. Each word was nearly cut off by a hiccup.

“Jesus, Lopsang, what is going on with you?”

“Oh, now you want to talk about it?! I lost immortality and might have killed people with my mistake you self-righteous pr—” The car jostled again.

Nick leaned hard against the vehicle's metal siding, attempting to stay upright

A metal clang filled the room. “Will you three shut up back there? This is a dangerous drive as is. I’ll survive the crash, but you won’t.” Perry didn’t seem all that bothered by the outcome.

Here’s hoping that Sixth Side spy tech works. How the Sixth Side hadn’t caught Perry when he kidnapped them was a mystery, but he supposed it had something to do with the rogue poltergeist they had left in the hotel. The emergency transponder in Nick’s pocket was slowly pinging their location so that Shirley could ride in on the world’s biggest ‘I told you so’.

They passed the rest of the drive in silence. Nick thought through increasingly unlikely scenarios for why Perry had shacked up with bloodsuckers but couldn’t find any that made sense. Perry always hated vamps, it was practically a pastime. Instead of spinning, he turned his attention to things that made sense. He listened intently and felt the bump of the truck’s shocks on the road. The longer they drove, the rougher the ride became, meaning that they were heading out of the city. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard splashes as the truck moved through the water. It’s got to be the bayou.

They drove for what might have been hours, but it was impossible to tell from beneath the bag around his head. Occasionally he got glimpses of the shadows that were Lopsang and James, but even that might have been his imagination. We’re in trouble. The absurdity of it all gave the situation a sense of unreality. Their inevitable doom felt far off and fake as if it were happening to someone else. Then, out of nowhere, the truck slowed to a stop with a wet squelch. The omnipresent rumble of the engine cut out, leaving them with the slow tick of the engine cooling.

Outside, the buzzing of bugs and chirping of crickets filled the air. We’re in the bayou alright. Doors opened to Nick’s right and thick, humid air wafted through them. He could smell the sickly sweet scent of natural decay and damp.

“Rise and shine, friend,” called a familiar voice.

“And here I thought we were even after this stupid fucking tattoo.” The raw skin on his palm still itched from where Martin’s needle had pierced it.

“That was before you called a government raid on my establishment. Well, if I’m being honest, it was before that too, but the raid was a cherry.”

The black bag was pulled off of Nick’s head, revealing the glittering gold smile of Martin. The man stood beside Perry just outside the truck’s double doors. Nick’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light but fixed on the odd pair standing before him. “Why is it always old friends?”

James sat slumped opposite him. “Try treating them better.”

Lopsang hadn’t managed a seat yet and looked half asleep.

“If I were you, I’d be happy you didn’t wake up in one of the cremation vents,” said Perry.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Martin chuckled. “You’re a twisted one, Perry. Fortunately for my good friend here, we’ve been asked to bring the three of you in alive. Come on outside, I think you’re going to like the view.”

Nick swallowed, noting the dryness in his throat. No food and no alcohol, the world really was a desolate place sober. Careful to keep his balance, he shuffled awkwardly out of the hearse, hands tied behind his back. “This would be easier if you would cut me free.”

“Not a chance in hell,” seethed Martin.

“We’ve both been on the receiving end of underestimating you and it won’t happen again,” said Perry.

Lopsang, suddenly conscious, slid out of the hearse with purposeful force and flicked the bag off his head with a practiced motion.

Nick’s heart leaped at the idea of sudden escape, but then Lopsang bent over and vomited.

“Phew, that feels better.” He looked up at their captors. “Always love meeting your friends, Nick.”

Martin put a finger to his nose and turned away. “You can see a hundred men die in a fighting pit, but that is still disgusting.”

Nick looked at Lopsang but grew distracted by a large, shadowy shape in the distant swamp. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You’d be surprised what you can hide with proper magic.” Martin’s grin went from ear to ear.

A massive, old stone castle stood in the center of the swamp. Its figure somehow cast a shadow on the already dark night sky. Torches burned in towers flanking a drawbridge extended toward them. Windows hung like ghost lights, floating high up on the walls, casting a pallid glow on the black water below. To complete the image, a cloud of bats passed overhead.

“That’s not good, is it?” asked James, stepping out beside Nick.

“That is a vampire castle.” Nick couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “How?” There hadn’t been a vampire castle in hundreds of years, most of all because they weren’t practical. When the townspeople spotted them, they sent mob after mob until they could find some pale-skinned recluses to burn. It was in a vampire’s best interest to be discrete, for the most part. As such, castles had fallen out of fashion, with the majority being owned by rich old vampires who had more of a passion for gothic décor than murder.

“Thousands of bricks transported over hundreds of years, and more magic than you or I could ever possess.” The awe was clear in Martin’s voice.

Nick turned to Perry. “And you’re ok with this?”

A twitch flickered at the edge of her mouth. “It’s survival, Nick.”

“How did Jackie—” Nick stopped. “Oh no.” He turned back to Martin. “Deals with The Devil are one thing but deals between a vampire and The Devil are something else entirely.” Vampires, already being soulless, only had one thing to lose, their lives. Time, money, and the rest were material and easily re-earned. “If The Baron agreed to this, he’s getting a big payday in return.”

Martin smiled. “In a way, we’re all getting a big payday.”

“That doesn’t make it better.” Nick felt sick. A vampire coven with a fully functioning vampire castle would be enough to level a city in weeks. It had been done before and nearly took society to the brink in the process.

“Why don’t we go see Jackie and have a chat?”

“Just throw us to the gators.” A quick chomp and a bloody roll in fetid swamp water was a better way to go.

“I’m happy to have a quick chat,” replied James quickly. “Remember, Nick, it’s your own damned rule,” he whispered after.

The longer you keep talking, the longer you’re alive. It was in his apprenticeship manual, page one.

“They have food there?” asked Lopsang. “Either kill me or feed me, because whatever Perry had was not worth what I just went through.” Through the haze, Lopsang gave Nick a look that conveyed sudden understanding.

They were all playing their parts and doing as he had taught them. Nick dug deep and found what was left of his jovial sarcasm. “Alright, if there’s food, I guess the gator massage can wait.”

They walked single file, Perry at the rear with her shotgun, and Martin chattering away at the front of the line, knowing the security of his position. “You wouldn’t believe the trouble we had to go through getting all this here. Did you know that vampire castles—”

“Have to contain the same bricks as the original structure? Yes.” It was one of the primary reasons there weren’t any in the United States. A vampire’s castle had to be made from stones taken from the town where they were turned. Modern-day vampires weren’t from places with much free stone around and reclaiming it wasn’t cheap.

Martin didn’t miss a beat. “Very good, Nick. I forgot, you’ve had some experience with vampires in the past, haven’t you?”

“And here I thought they were mostly pleasant.”

Martin’s teeth glinted in the moonlight. “Maybe from your perspective, but you can be a bit of a rude house guest.”

It was an understatement. “Martin, can you stop your babbling and just let us get through our death in peace?”

“Like I said, rude house guest.”

As they approached, the castle blotted out the night sky. Despite being transported across the sea in pieces, the structure looked like it had always been there. Bullfrogs croaked from beneath the drawbridge, and Nick thought he saw several glinting eyes in the dark water beneath. Where there was water, there were alligators; the unwritten rule of the bayou. Fireflies darted across their path, creating neon trails behind them. The whole scene felt surreal.

Nick tried to focus his efforts on their eventual escape, as improbable as it might be. Jackie was smart, which meant they’d be stripped, searched, and properly prepared before meeting him. Anything even remotely smelling of garlic would be burned and tossed over the castle walls. Nick tried to make a mental calculation of how long they had until morning, realized it was too long, and started looking at the castle’s perimeter for bits of pointy wood instead. There’s always a way out.

Nick looked up at the castle. High above the drawbridge were two pitch-black slits where archers might have sat. Now, he suspected that someone with a sniper rifle and conspiracy-theory-inducing aim sat behind them. Jackie only hired the best. “I know this probably goes without saying, but don’t try anything stupid,” he said to Nick and James.

Martin nodded. “First bit of sense you’ve made all night. Would hate to see you splattered before you had a chance to talk with Jackie.”

Nick looked down at the hourglass on his wrist. The sand was firmly in place. Whatever Shirley is up to, it better be good.