“It’s incomplete,” Hailwic said.

“It can’t be,” Franz Hartmann moaned. He stood where Vasilja had left him. Unmoving. “I was promised it was the full version. An original.”

Vasilja sighed “How much is missing?”

Hailwic pursed her lips, thinking. “Two hundred years ago, we were ambushed by Turks. There were only fifty of us left alive after the first night. We’d taken a small farm. I can’t even remember where it was. Dracula used a copy to summon our Master and beg for aid.”

“I remember that,” Vasilja said. Even tone sounding colder than ice. “Oh, wait. No, I don’t. You locked me up in the castle.”

“It was for your own good.”

“For two years?” Vasilja’s eyes narrowed.

“We sent you messengers to eat.”

“Only once a week!”

“Now’s not the time.” Hailwic tapped the book’s cover. “Judging by the size alone, I’d say half is missing. Maybe more.”

Senka stood in front of Franz, poking him in the chest. “Why won’t he move?”

“I told him not to,” Vasilja said, still a little annoyed. “Please leave him alone, Senka. It’s easier to control them if they’re not too stimulated.”

“I want to control him.”

“I rather think you should learn your own power first,” Vasilja said. “Just so you know, I think this is a complete waste of time. Dreams are only fantasies, you know. Stories we tell ourselves while we sleep.”

“They weren’t fantasies.” Senka moved away from Franz. Reached out and snatched the grimoire from Hailwic. Ignored the eldest’s raised eyebrow and began flipping through the pages. “It looks wrong.”

“Wrong,” Hailwic repeated. “That’s your assessment?”

“Yes.” She handed the grimoire back with a sour twist of her mouth. “It’s not right.”

“Well, Senka,” Vasilja said. Amusement triggered her to reach out and twirl the youngest vampire’s hair around her finger. “I’m so glad we brought you along for such astounding displays of insight.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Senka slapped her hand away. “I didn’t know what else to say. Just because I’m not as good with words like you are, doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“Very well.” Hailwic weighed the book in her hand. “What do you think, Senka? What do you think we should do?”

Vasilja’s hands flew up to her cheeks and she stepped back, aghast. Mock horror played across her face. “Are you seriously asking her what she thinks?”

“Quiet, Vasilja.” Back to Senka. “Well? They were your dreams. You must have seen something.”

“I told you. I saw the Fel. And it was inside me. I saw armies rising out of the earth. Demons with green skin and burning eyes. And we were leading them.” She closed her eyes. “And I saw this grimoire in my first dream after I came to the castle. Green with a silver pentagram. Just like this. And I was reading it right here. In this house. It even had the same chair and rug and everything. The Fel came to me in that dream, so the book must be a key. I remember it so vividly. Stop sniggering, Vasilja. I saw it.”

“Oh, I’m not sniggering. But couldn’t it just be a dream, Senka?” Vasilja took the grimoire and opened at random. “You must see how awfully unlikely it all sounds. I mean, just look at this. It’s mostly nonsense. Why, there’s a whole chapter in here on how to make a Hand of Glory. You know what that is, don’t you? A fetish for rapists. It’s hardly real magic at all.”

“It’s not all nonsense,” Hailwic said.

“Mostly it is. Oh, look. Astrological charts. How quaint. What was your birth date again, Hailwic? We can find out what kind of man you’re likely to marry. Or what’s the best day to buy a new pair of boots.”

“Stop it, Vasilja.”

“There must be more to it,” Senka said. “If this is only half of the book, then someone must have the other half. Don’t you think?”

“Oh, I suppose so.” Vasilja rolled her eyes. “But it’s all so tiresome. I thought we were going to London. Do we really have time for this? You said it yourself, Hailwic. You wanted to get to Dracula as fast as possible.”

“This is important, too.”

“I don’t see how. There are other books, you know. Other rituals. It doesn’t have to be this one.”

“Ask Franz if he knows where the rest is.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Don’t sulk, Vasilja. It’s not like you.”

“I think it is,” Senka said, grinning mischievously.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Don’t be horrid,” Vasilja snapped. “I still haven’t forgotten the time you put garlic in my coffin.”

Senka poked her tongue out.

“Vasilja. Stop it.” Hailwic shoved herself between the two of them. Crossed her arms and glared at Vasilja. “You’re being difficult. Now, please. Ask him about the book. We’ve wasted enough time tonight.”

“Oh, very well.” She shoved the grimoire into Senka’s hands and flew in front of the shocked man. Hovered just off the ground, toes twitching angrily. Still managed to smile. Leaned down and kissed him on the tip of his nose. Said sweetly; “Even though eavesdropping is not very gentlemanly, you were listening. Weren’t you, Franz?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s alright. You were in the same room. It’s only natural.” She slapped both hands down onto his shoulders. “Tell me where you got the grimoire.”

“Paris,” he said. “From some Luciferians I’m acquainted with.”

“Luciferians?” She clapped her hands in delight. “Not Satanists? Luciferians! How charming. Most bourgeois. I approve. They sound like wonderful people. We simply must meet them. Who are they, Franz? Could you write their names down for me?”

“I could do better, Lady,” he said. Licked lips. “I could show you. Introduce you. I can help you.”

“I’m not sure Hailwic would think that was a good idea.”

“It might be quicker,” the other vampire said. “Can you control him, though? He seems unstable.”

“Oh, I don’t think he needs much control. Do you, Franz? You want the same thing, after all. You want power.”

“Yes. I want that. I’ll do anything.”

“Would you help us perform a little ritual, Franz?”

“The ritual from the book?”

“Yes. That one.”

“You know what it does?”

“Of course we do, silly.”

“And you really want to summon him. The Devil?”

She purred as she stroked his face with her fingertips. “Who else would give someone everything they ever wanted?”

“Please take me with you, Lady.” He dropped to his knees. “I’ll serve you forever. I swear.”

“I like this man,” Vasilja said. “Hailwic? Can I keep him? I promise to look after him all by myself.”

“I thought we were going to bite him,” Senka said. “We agreed.”

“Yes, but now we need him to show us Paris. Don’t you want to get the rest of your little book, Senka? Well, then we can’t bite him.” Vasilja wrapped her arms around Franz Hartmann’s head possessively. “We must protect him. Keep him close. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Franz?”

“Yes, Lady,” he said. Voice muffled. “Very much.”

“You see? I have him completely under control.” She flung him back and danced in the air. “Paris! Oh, how I love Paris. The charming little boutiques. The perfume! The dresses. Such fashions found only in France! The lightest of silks. The purest of leathers! Theatres everywhere. Delightful little flowergirls on almost every corner. Their pretty little necks just full of blood.”

“Garlic,” Halwic grunted. “You forgot the garlic.”

“Well, yes. I suppose there is that.”

Senka crossed her arms. “Then, who can I bite?”

“I don’t know, Senka. Perhaps we’ll find someone on the way back.”

“And what if we don’t?”

“Then you’ll have to wait until tomorrow, won’t you? Honestly, since we’ve gotten to the city, it’s like you expect you can eat every night.”

“There’s so many people here, though.” She pushed her nose against the glass window. Looked out at gaslights burning along the street. Squinted as she caught sight of a few figures moving quickly between. “Who’d miss one or two?”

“Not tonight,” Hailwic said. Decision made. “I want to you to look through this book some more. You need to separate out which pieces you think are right, and which are wrong.”

Vasilja let out a throaty laugh. “That sounds positively exciting. I bet you can’t wait to get started.”

The youngest vampire looked down at her hand. Veins, dark against the inside of her wrists.

In her dreams, they’d glowed bright with venomous light.

Fel.

The feeling had been ecstatic as it burned through her.

Frightening, too.

But ecstatic.

She curled her fingers. Tried to concentrate on the memory of that feeling rather than the aching hunger for blood.

“I want to get some tea, though,” she said. Put her hat back on and fished into her coat for a pair of white kidskin gloves. “From the coffeehouse. For Dimiti.”

“You’re spoiling him,” Vasilja said. “He’s supposed to be our servant, not the other way around.”

“He saved my life.”

“Yes, but that’s no reason to buy him tea every day, is it? I mean, it was his job, Senka. I told him to do that. I don’t see you thanking me for telling him to look after you. You haven’t bought me any nice flowers or anything.”

“You said you hated the flowers here.”

“I do. But that’s no reason not to buy them for me, is it?”

“I’ll get you some in Paris.”

“In Paris, they come with the flowergirl.”

“Are they small?”

Vasilja’s grin was predatory. Franz, looking into it, ducked his head with a wince. “They’re delicious. Aren’t they Hailwic?”

“Help him to pack his bag. We can talk about Paris on the way.”

“There you go again. Taking all the fun out of things.” She took hold of his necktie and began floating toward the doorway, dragging him behind. “Come along, Franz. Let’s go find out what naughty things you keep in your closet. I do hope you’re inventive.”

Hailwic drifted up behind the young vampire still at the window. Put a hand on her shoulder. Kept her voice low. “Are you sure about all this, Senka?”

“I think so.” She put her own hands on the glass. Feeling the crisp cold bite through her gloves. “But I admit it’s mostly just a feeling. Is that enough, do you think?”

“I’m not sure.” Hailwic followed Senka’s stare. “I want it to be. It gives me hope. Because Vasilja’s right. Dracula hasn’t been the same. Things have changed. More than I can say.”

“He’s always been the same to me.”

“That’s because you didn’t know him before.” She looked down at the grimoire. “Lucifer’s Bargain meant a lot to him when we met. His passion for it consumed him. In the early years, the mountain streams would run red with blood most nights. We gorged, Senka. Gorged like your dreams. Dedicated every feast to Hell’s glory on Earth. Vasilja was there for the end of it. Dracula’s final army was destroyed by Hungarians. It was his third. If you could call it an army, of course. More like a band of savages he’d attracted from as far away as Rome. No real military training, which is why they ran. I tried to warn him about that, but he was born in a simpler time when all you needed was a sword and an axe and the lust for victory. He thought just his presence would be enough to secure victory. He expected the Hungarians to run. They didn’t.”

“What changed him?”

“I’m not sure.” She looked down at her feet. Thinking. “After you joined us, he retreated. Refused to speak. At first, I thought it was just melancholy. I thought he’d grow out of it. Instead, he grew into it.”

“Was it my fault, Hailwic?”

The blonde vampire put her arms around Senka. Touched her forehead to the other’s own and smiled. “Never. His problems were his own.”

“Vasilja blames me.”

“Because you replaced her, for a time. And, when he changed, it must seem to her that you triggered something different in him. But she also saw the signs from before, so blames you less than you think.”

“I feel so stupid. What if she’s right? What if they’re just dreams?”

Hailwic kissed her cheek. “If they’re dreams, I won’t think less of you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because if they give us nothing else, your dreams have given me hope, Senka. And I haven’t felt that in a long time.”