“I don’t like it.” Senka let Vasilja lead the way. Her eyes gave up looking around the hotel lobby and instead drifted down to her hands. “Everything is too white. It’s too white.”

“A lot of hotels are white,” Vasilja said. “I think it’s because they’re obsessed with marble. Even when they don’t have any marble, they like to emulate it. Marble’s very popular now. It must be a Greek thing. Or Roman. Although, I think Hailwic would tell me it’s Italian.”

“Whatever it is, it’s horrible.” She looked unimpressed. “I think I prefer the train. It was nice and red.”

“You only like it because it makes you think about blood.”

Senka made a face. “I’m not that simple, Vasilja. I also liked the last hotel. It was grey, like our castle. But at least they had paintings to make it pretty.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Senka. I didn’t think about it like that. Perhaps a few artworks here might make a pleasant difference.” Vasilja admitted. Then beamed at the young man moving out from behind the counter, throwing her power ahead of herself in a wave.

He stumbled midstep.

Caught himself with a mild shake of head.

Smiled.

“Ladies,” he said. Bowed. “Welcome to Le Grand.”

“My Name is Countess Vasilja Dracula.” Her purr made him smile and his eyes half-closed. “This is my sister, Countess Senka Dracula. We apologise for the late arrival, but we require three rooms. One simply must be facing the Palais Garnier. I don’t imagine it’s important where the others face, but it would be appreciated if one was on one of the upper levels and the other closer to the ground as our companion is of an age where stairs might prove a distraction.”

“We have an elevator, Lady.”

“He doesn’t trust the things.” She smiled, a winsome smile which caught his breath. “He’s not as worldly as you or I. What did you say your name was?”

“Gilles, Lady. Gilles Foucheux.”

“Mister Foucheux. If you could arrange our rooms, we would be most appreciative.” She looked around. “I would also like you to acquire two tickets to tomorrow’s Opera. I don’t mind what is playing, but we absolutely must have tickets.”

“Of course.”

“We would also like to be sure our rooms will not be disturbed during the day. We’ve had a tiresome journey and would like to rest.”

He bobbed his head quickly. “This, too, Lady, can be arranged.”

“Excellent.” She turned as Dimiti made his way inside. The old man blinked at the finery. Shook his head. Then whistled under his breath as she waved him closer. “Dimiti? What are you doing there? Please meet Mister Gilles Foucheux, Dimiti. If you require anything further from us, Mister Foucheux, we would appreciate you discussing it with Dimiti first.”

“Dimiti.” Gilles tried the word.

“Very good, Mister Foucheux. Now we’re acquainted, which rooms will be ours?”

“Oh. Yes, Countess Dracula. I will sort it out right away.”

She watched him skip to the counter and begin preparations.

Senka’s eyes roved up and down his immaculate suit. “I want to bite him.”

“Of course you do, Senka. You want to bite everyone we meet.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She frowned. “Why three rooms, Vasilja? I don’t think I’d like sleeping alone.”

“Hush. It will become clear later.” She looked to Dimiti. “Are our bags prepared?”

“Aye, Lady.”

“Bring them with us. I don’t want any locals handling them.”

“Of course.”

“I want you to keep close to Mister Foucheux, Dimiti. Should anything occur, I’ll need you to take care of things.”

“I’ll be like his shadow.”

“Not that close. We don’t want him to fuss.”

“I’ll be discreet.”

“Of course you will.”

Gilles looked up. “Countess, would you sign, please? We must all sign the book, I’m afraid.”

“Naturally.” She drifted over to him.

She smiled again, the smile broadening as he blushed in response. Taking the pen, she dipped it gently into the ink before racing her signature across the paper.

“Thank you, Countess,” he said. A small cough to bring oxygen back to his lungs.

“I do not wish for any attention, Mister Foucheux. Do you understand?”

“No one will know you’re here, Countess. I swear it.”

“And you will have my tickets for me by tomorrow evening?”

“I’ll keep them with me to be safe.”

She reached with a cold hand and ran a finger down the length of his jaw. “You’re a good boy, Mister Foucheux. There’s no need for anyone to show us to our rooms. Do me one last favour, would you? Try not to eat any more garlic tomorrow.”

He ducked his head. Face bright red. “I will do as you require, Countess.”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“Or onion.”

Struggling to think, the young man nodded again. “As you wish.”

“I do so wish.” She spun away. Pointed at Dimiti. “Please take the keys, Dimiti. Senka? What are you waiting for?”

“Can we try the elevator?”

“If you must.”

“I must, Vasilja. Don’t you think it sounds wonderful?”

“Not particularly. It’s a box being lifted on a chain. It doesn’t sound particularly safe to me.”

“Are you frightened?” The younger vampire smirked.

“Not for myself. But I’d rather not lose Dimiti.” She brushed the old man’s shoulder with genuine affection. “I like him.”

“Thank you, Lady,” he said.

“You’re very welcome.”

The elevator’s door was open and a wiry old man stood within, suit crisp and shining with brass buttons. His neatly sculpted moustache glistened almost as brightly with wax.

He bowed as they entered. Began closing the doors.

Latched them.

Smiled as he bowed his head politely. “Which floor, Lady?”

“What floor is Senka’s room, Dimiti?”

“The third, Lady.”

“What’s your name?”

“My name?” Chuckled nervously. “Juste, Lady.”

“Take us to the third floor, please, Juste.”

The elevator rose slowly, but with a smoothness which left Senka giggling by the time they stopped.

Thanking the old man, they slid into the hall and stood waiting for the elevator to go back down.

“Remarkable,” Vasilja said at last. “Not quite as bad as I thought.”

“I want one for the castle.”

“You don’t need one. You can just fly up the stairwell.”

“So?”

“That is not a sentence, and does not deserve any further response.” She leaned toward Dimiti. “Which one is her room?”

“Second on the left.”

“Excellent. Could you make sure the bags are left in mine downstairs. But make sure you keep Hailwic with you. Don’t let her out of your sight. She’d be dreadfully upset if we lost her.”

“I’ll keep her with me all the time, Lady. I swear it.”

The room’s furniture was blue velvet and gold trim. The bed looked soft and inviting.

Senka made to jump on it, but Vasilja took her arm and dragged her to the window instead. Pulled the curtain aside and pushed her against the glass. “Keep an eye on the street below,” she said. “I want to know if there’s anyone watching. Can you do that, Senka? Can you keep your attention on something for just a few minutes instead of getting bored and not doing it properly?”

“I’ll try,” she said drily. “Just for you.”

“Dimiti? Lock the door behind you and take the key. We shan’t be needing it.”

“Aye, Lady. Is there anything else you’ll be wanting?”

“No, I don’t think so. We’ll meet you in the lobby tomorrow after sunset. No, wait. Could you arrange an appointment with the current Governor of the Banque de France?”

“I’ll do so first thing.”

“Let him know it’s a matter of some urgency, and if that doesn’t get him excited you may tell him we’re thinking of taking our money to another bank.”

“I’ll tell him.”

The old man shuffled out of the room, leaving the two vampires close to the window.

Senka squinted through the glass as Vasilja’s gaze searched the building opposite.

“Does anybody look interested?”

Senka shook her head. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“And I can’t feel anyone in the shadows.”

“Are you sure?”

“One can never be too sure. This is where Hailwic was always more reliable. She could talk to the rats, or something.”

“What are we doing, Vasilja? Why did you get three rooms?”

“I thought it prudent.” She smiled wickedly. “I would expect any hunters will have a difficult time guessing which one we are staying in. This simply increases the likelihood they go to the wrong room. I would expect them to work methodically, so to take the rooms on the lower levels first. This hopefully will alert Dimiti.”

“What if they come here first?”

“We can’t plan for everything, Senka. We can only make their job more difficult and hope for the best.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Senka’s shoulder slumped a little. “I wish I could think like you do. I always feel so stupid around you.”

Vasilja gently slapped her hand. “Stop being so morose. We each have our gifts. And, speaking of gifts…” Vasilja took Senka’s arm and her expression grew mischievous. “Tell me, sister. Don’t you feel like biting?”

“Didn’t you say I always feel like biting?”

“Is that an answer?”

“I think it is.”

“Then, let’s go find something delicious.”

“Something young? Something which wriggles?”

“If we can.”

“It’s been so long since we did that.” The thought made her sigh. “I miss Hailwic.”

“Me, too. I’m getting a headache from making all the decisions. It’s very frustrating. Now. Fetch your bag, and let’s go.”

“My bag?”

“Of course. We can’t stay in this room. If the hunters get the ledger, they could easily search three rooms in one day. Especially if they arrive while Dimiti is arranging our appointment.” Her grin stretched widely over her face. “How long do you think it would take the hunters to search every room in the hotel, do you think?”

“Oh, Senka! That’s brilliant!”

“Thank you.”

“Hailwic would be proud of you, you know.”

“Do you think so?”

“Oh, I do.” Senka hugged her sister tightly. “I know I’m so proud of you.”

“Well.” Vasilja patted Senka’s shoulder awkwardly. “I’m very humbled by your praise. Shall we go?”

The two vampires slid through the window and into the night air, floating weightless and silent. Their bags in hand, they drifted from room to room, Vasilja pausing near each window. Stretching inside with her power.

Grunting unhappily.

Then moving on.

“We need to find somewhere,” Senka said. “The sun will be up soon.”

“I know when the sun will be up, Senka. I probably know better than you how long we’ve got. But we don’t want just any old room, do we?”

The younger vampire looked down at the street below. Bright lights shivered cold.

Only a few figures walked the street this late and most of them didn’t so much walk as weave. One crashed into some bins and remained where he was, singing at the top of his lungs about the joys of absinthe.

A cat skipped away from him, crossing the street at a scamper. Tail flicking.

It didn’t look up.

Senka slid onto a ledge and crouched, coat tails hung loose down her sides. Tickled by the wind, they slithered against the hotel wall. Two dark snakes. Her top hat tucked under her arm to stop it from flying away.

She touched the back of her hand. Tracing the veins.

They looked dark.

In her dreams, they’d glowed the most brilliant green she’d ever seen. The same colour as the Felstone.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. The closer they’d come to Paris, the more she thought about her dreams. And the more she began to doubt them.

Vasilja hovered just below, pressing her cheek against the window.

Listening.

Her power stretching into the room like an invisible tentacle.

Teasing the dreams of sleepers.

Peeling back their desires.

Feeling.

A magnificent power, Senka thought.

And Hailwic’s had been incredible, too. Hailwic could control bats. Rats. Owls. Cats. Even wolves.

Creatures of the night, Dracula called them.

It had sounded poetic when he called them that.

She remembered when he took her along the ramparts and showed her the view from the mountains. She’d heard the wolves howling in the distance.

“They hunt,” he’d said. “As will we. We are all children of the night.”

His powers were even more potent. Along with the same powers as Hailwic and Vasilja, Satan had gifted him with control of his own form. He could become smoke. Become a wolf.

Even a giant bat.

He was, she’d thought when she first met him, the closest to a god she could imagine.

They all had powers.

Except for her.

“It takes time to manifest,” Hailwic had said. “It took me two hundred years.”

“It only took me two months,” Vasilja smirked. “Maybe you are both just slow?”

Looking down at Vasilja probing the room, Senka wondered if the other vampire was right.

Was she slow?

And were her dreams only naïve fantasy? Fanciful desires of a fledgling vampire whose powers had yet to manifest?

Would Vasilja resent her more if she couldn’t bring back Hailwic?

If her heart could still beat, it’d be racing in her chest, she thought. Racing with fear.

“Senka!” Vasilja was looking up at her. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“Well, stop it. It doesn’t suit you. Come down here. This one is perfect.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because there’s two of them.”

“Men?”

“No, Senka. Little ones. There’s two of them. I told you I’d find somewhere perfect.”

Senka drifted down to her sister and took her hand. “I never doubted you.”

“Really?”

“No. Hailwic said you always find the best things to bite. I think she was right.” The young vampire smiled, showing her fangs. “You’re just not very good at finding music.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“Please open the window, Vasilja. I can’t bear to think any more tonight. I really need to bite…”