Dimiti was snoring when Senka woke.

Seated on the ground. Back against the door. Revolver in his lap.

Knife on the floor by one hand.

A mallet on the floor by his other.

Bloodied cloth draped across his shoulder. A new wound, dry and crusted, across his chin. Another on his forehead. Lines of blood streaking down from the cut on his scalp.

His old knuckles were bruised and swollen.

The young vampire flew across the room, her panic causing her to shriek. “Dimiti!”

He started awake, hand diving for the gun in his lap. “Eh?”

Vasilja bolted upright, tense and ready. “Dimiti! What happened here?”

Dimiti knuckled his eye and gently lay the revolver aside. Tried to untangle himself from Senka. “It’s alright, Lady. Just a couple of Englishmen. Nothing to worry about. Have a care, Miss. You’ll get blood all over you.”

“Couple?” She looked down at the stains on the floor. Frowned. “And you killed them? Alone?”

“Well,” he shrugged. Touched a hand to his chin. “They were only English, weren’t they?”

“Are you alright?” Senka cupped his face, turning it this way and that to get a look at the cuts. “They don’t look too deep. Still, it must have hurt. And you’re all bruised, too!”

“I’m fine,” he said, his cheeks flushing at her attention. Eyes trying to look up and away. “Really, Miss. There’s no need for… ah… no need for fussing.”

“Get off him, Senka. You’re making him uncomfortable.”

“How?” She glanced over her shoulder, a scowl beginning to form.

“Well, just look at yourself. Your dress is all open. Change into something else, will you? You’ll give the poor man a heart attack.”

“Oh!” Now angry, she jumped back, puzzled by the rip which exposed her to her belly. “What happened to my dress?”

Vasilja looked to the old man. Her eyes were calm, but glittering with potential fury. “Dimiti? Did we miss anything we’d want to get angry about?”

“No, Lady,” he said firmly. “Kicked down the door just as they were getting started. Nothing happened before. If it had, I’d have trussed them up and left them for you.”

“Good to hear.”

“You might like to thank the little fellow outside, Lady. He spotted them heading this way and came to get me right quick. He was very helpful after, too.”

Vasilja nodded. “Do you have his name? And perhaps a way to contact him? I’d like to reward him for his assistance.”

The old man winced. “He told me, but I forgot. I’ll make sure to get it again.”

“Please do.” She slid from the bed and began rummaging in her bag. “Are we nearing Paris?”

“Aye. If you look outside, you’ll see we aren’t far from the edge of the city now. Should only be an hour or two before we pull in to the station.”

“Then we’ve time to get ready.” She sighed, watching Senka struggle to button her torn dress. “Senka? Quit playing with it and throw it away. We’ll get you a new one in Paris. There’s no way you can repair it by wishing it to happen.”

“But I like this one.”

“Well, it’s time to like another one.”

“Where’s my hat?”

“That dreadful thing is hopefully lost for good.” She sighed at the younger vampire’s sudden look of sorrow. “Oh, stop that. It’s in the little cupboard there. That’s what it’s for. Along with that awful coat. Must you wear it on our first night in Paris?”

“Well, I can’t wear my dress, can I?”

Vasilja shook her head in defeat. “Dimiti, when we arrive, I want you to arrange a cab to take us to the Le Grand. I’ve read it’s located on the Rue de la Paix. Near to the Palais Garnier, which I very much wish to visit.”

Senka tugged her dress off while Dimiti closed his eyes. Her voice was muffled by her dress. “Oh, please, Vasilja. I don’t want to hear any more violins.”

“You won’t,” Vasilja said. “It’s an Opera House. You shall be witnessing your first opera. You should be grateful. But, if it makes you feel any better, there is a coffeehouse in the hotel. I’m sure there will be plenty of wretched little layabouts talking about the allure of little girls or something for you there.”

“I thought Peter sounded very smart,” Senka said. “And very worldly.”

“That’s the point, Senka. They only sound that way.” She noticed Dimiti. “You don’t have to stand there like that, Dimiti. You may leave, you know.”

“Aye, Lady. Thank you, Lady.”

“Oh, Dimiti?”

“Aye?”

“We’re very grateful to you, you know. I have so many things on my mind right now that it may not appear so, but I am. Both of us are. Aren’t we, Senka?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Yes, Dimiti,” Senka said, turning to him. “More than anything.”

“Senka?” Vasilja sighed at the nude vampire. “Clothes. Now, Please?”

Dimiti, left with a grateful bob of his head. Muttering the name of the hotel over and over so he could remember it.

“Do you know, I think I’m looking forward to Paris,” Vasilja said. She began pulling off her own stained dress, airily wiping the old blood off her skin. “The last time I was here, it was a frightful mess. There’d been rioting and battles in the streets, and everyone was very angry. They’d just started putting the nobility to the guillotine. I remember watching some of the executions. It was such an exciting time for everyone.”

“I want a guillotine.”

“Of course you do. Very sensible machines, they are. One big chop and off goes the head. If you’re lucky. One or two needed a second try. I thought it most efficient.” She smiled fondly as she folded the stained dress and put it away. “It was dangerous for us. Dracula was always moaning that someone would find out what we were. He wouldn’t let us wander very far at all. But he needn’t have worried. There was so much chaos that no one noticed when people went missing. And when their bodies showed up, the royalists thought the revolutionaries had done it and the revolutionaries blamed the royalists. It was most convenient. They take their political views very seriously here. I think that’s why I’ve always liked France.”

“I’ve heard the men are exotic.”

“Exotic?” Vasilja spluttered, looking at her in honest shock. “Where did you hear that?”

“Some of the girls in the village near the castle. They said French men were very exotic. And romantic.”

“Well, they’re wrong. They’re not exotic at all. They’re French.”

“Isn’t that exotic?”

“Not in the least.” She shuddered. “When you bite one, you’ll see what I mean. There’s a decidedly uncouth flavour to their blood. They eat far too much garlic on the whole. And butter. It makes my stomach queasy.”

“Oh.”

“And they all seem very offended by the concept of bathing.” She shook her head. “I mean, the English also don’t like bathing but at least they do it every week or so. But the French? I swear most of them only ever saw a bath when they were baptized as children. Then they try to hide their stench by pouring on bottles of perfume which only makes it worse.”

“That’s disgusting…”

“Exactly. Honestly, I’ve never met a Frenchman I was genuinely happy to bite.”

It wasn’t long before the train slowed, the massive engine sounding like it was crashing along the rails. Heavy wheels screeching as it took a sharper turn.

The two vampires swayed with its momentum.

“Vasilja?” Senka sat on her bed, buttoning her shirt. Pants across her lap. “How are we going to find Luciferians without Franz?”

“Oh, that’s easy. We’ll make an appointment to see Dracula’s banker. He’s the Governor of the Banque de France. I can’t recall his name, but he’s very important.”

“A banker?”

“Of course. Bankers are like priests these days. They know everyone’s secrets. It’s often said that King Louis went to the scaffold without hesitation. That he held his head high and showed no nervousness at all. A truly brave man, they say.” She smiled mischievously. “But every time he met his banker, he’d quake in his very boots! Bankers, Senka. They’re the closest a human will get to being one of us without actually drinking blood.”

“So, you think he will know some Luciferians?”

“Absolutely. If he isn’t one himself. And, if he doesn’t know them, then we’ll simply have to shake his tree and see what falls out. I don’t see we have any other choice.” She pursed her lips, muttering; “Hailwic was much better at all this than I am.”

“Do you think there’ll be vampire hunters, too? Waiting for us?”

“I’ve no doubt there will be.” Her smile turned grim.

“Should we try harder to hide from them?”

“Hide? From that rabble? No, thank you. Anyway, Senka. I have an idea about that. Well, I think I do. I won’t know for sure until we arrive at the hotel.”

When the train entered the city, Senka pulled the window open and thrust her head outside again. Laughing into the wind, she ignored Vasilja until the other vampire gave up entirely on trying to pull her back inside.

The young vampire stared open-mouthed at the street. Bright lights culled the evening darkness, dazzling her gaze as they rushed past buildings more taller than anything she’d ever seen.

Restaurants beckoned with promises of richest delight.

Taverns brushed shoulders with merchant shops.

The city felt alive in a way she couldn’t describe. It was beautiful. It was cruel. A cathedral to excess.

And it stank, she thought, of horseshit.

Pulling her head inside, she shook her head in wonder. “Why don’t they clean up after the horses, Vasilja?”

“This is what cities are usually like, Senka. They’re mostly very dirty.”

“But it seems worse here.”

“Paris is a city of bankers now, Senka. Many of the richest men in the world congregate here now. They build beautiful buildings. Magnificent architectural wonders for us to enjoy. They produce divine opera. Art is in every valued space.”

“That doesn’t explain it.”

“Of course it does. If you have that many rich people, then you’re bound to have a great many more poor people. It’s just the way it is. And who’s going to look after them? They can’t look after themselves.” She waited patiently in her small armchair for the train to reach its destination. She flicked her fingers in irritation. “Perhaps, with some effort, it could all be fixed. But from whose pockets would the money come to do so? The public purse? I think not. That has always and will always be a secondary banking industry for those in power. The filth and corruption in a city like this will accumulate layer by layer. You can’t always see it, but you can smell it. Nothing will change that.”

“But they had a revolution. You said so. They overthrew their monarchy, didn’t they? Didn’t that change anything?”

“Ah, Senka. I’ve seen revolutions,” Vasilja said softly. “Many times. Hailwic saw many more. In France, it used to be that a man would lead his people because he was chosen by God. They called that man a King. It was proven he was fit to lead because God spat him out of some poor woman’s womb. These days, a man is proven to lead when his family have paved his way with earthly riches. He’s still spat out in the same manner, but now it’s not God’s work. It’s his own. Nothing has really changed, Senka. Nothing at all. I suppose, if I thought about it, revolutions simply removed God from the whole mess. A good thing for us, but it didn’t do them much good in the end.”

“That’s very bleak.”

“I know.” She glanced out the window and chuckled softly. “Try not to think about it. It’ll only depress you. What would you like to do tomorrow? Tonight will be spent getting our hotel rooms ready I should think. But, tomorrow, we shall have Paris to ourselves. Before we hunt your Luciferians, we shall enjoy its fruits for one time at least. Even Hailwic would be disappointed if we didn’t…”

“I want to bite a Frenchman.” The younger vampire tilted her hat as the train jostled her on the bed. “I know you said they don’t taste very nice, but how will I know if I don’t give one a try?”

“That’s a good attitude, Senka. A very good attitude. I approve of it most wholeheartedly. I hope you remember it when I take you to the Opera.”

“Did Hailwic like the Opera?”

“That’s not the point.”

“She didn’t!”

“Hailwic had all the sophistication of a village peasant.”

“I’ll tell her that.”

Vasilja’s eyes flicked towards the ammunition case by the door. She sighed, struggling to keep sorrow from her undead heart. “I do hope you get the chance, Senka.”

“I will.”

“Then I can’t wait to tell her all about how you thought her having a collection of swords was very old-fashioned when everyone in the world has evolved to using a firearm.”

“I never did!” She scrunched her face and squinted dangerously at the other vampire. “You’re making that up. That’s lying, Vasilja.”

“Senka,” Vasilja sounded shocked. “What a thing to suggest. I never lie. I simply put forward an alternative perspective.”

“Of what? I never even mentioned her swords!”

“You just did.”

“I didn’t!”

“What did you just say?”

“I said I never mentioned them.”

“Then, you mentioned them.”

“You’re confusing me.” She growled. “I don’t like this.”

“Well, Senka.” She allowed herself a cunning smile. “You are, of course, always allowed your own perspective. That’s what a city like this is for…”