Fate has a way of playing terrible tricks on us all, but this has to be the worst. It has to be the punishment for Damek, for my failure to protect my brother as my father begged me to do after he had turned us both and just before the villagers broke down the doors and slaughtered him.
Vampires can’t die. But we can be torn to pieces and never rise again. And so my freshly turned brother and I watched from the woods as the humans exacted their revenge for atrocities not even perpetrated by my kind. Led from the front by a Van Helsing, his face twisted in rage and delight.
And I swore not just to protect my brother but to deal with the humans the way they wanted to deal with us, only without the rage. With revenge and revenue in mind. And it has made me the most powerful and the wealthiest vampire in all of Europe. The king.
“My Lord?” The thrall, still holding my cloak, is next to me. “You should rest.”
“I need to change. I’m going out.”
His eyes flare. No matter how long thralls are with me, they struggle with the concept I can daywalk. Out of all my progeny, all the other vampires drawn to my nest, I am the only vampire able to go out in the light. Some of my hand-picked warriors can stand some exposure for a short time, but they cannot walk like I do.
It is a vagary of the virus which makes a vampire. My version is different. It is the reason I am king of the vampires. It is the reason I was able to close the vault.
It is the reason my brother survived.
I leave the thrall to close up the nest, given the sun, weak in the winter, is climbing in the sky, and I return to my quarters. The overturned table and lamp are the only indication Lucy was even here.
The little human who thought she could stake me.
I admire her confidence.
I’d like to admire her much, much closer. And I would have done, if news had not come to me of the capture of one of Damek’s vampires.
I thought the tasty morsel could wait, but she had other plans. The best part is she thinks she’s escaped. But she came voluntarily into my nest, and I will have her back here before nightfall.
It’s no matter she thinks otherwise.
Changing into a simple bespoke suit which clings to me like a second skin, I spend some time choosing a tie. After all, when one meets their fated mate, they need to be at their best. Finally, I text a thrall to get him to bring the car around.
“Sir?” he says as I get in, sliding into the comfortable sweet scented leather of the Rolls.
“Airport,” I reply. “No rush. We’ll have a wait ahead of us.”
He slips the big car out into the Budapest traffic, and I check my messages, replying to a few emails as we negotiate our way out of the city until we are finally moving a little faster as the congestion abates. My driver swings the vehicle to the front of the terminal, and I disembark.
The early morning flights have left, and while there is a constant flow of people in and out, it’s not so busy I can’t find a place to wait, a newspaper in my hands as I continually scan the crowd.
An oldfeleségpushes her cleaning cart through the terminal. Her eyes never leave me for a second. As she passes, she hisses out the age old insult.
“Piszkos!”
“A kurva anyád,” I respond lazily, and she scurries past me.
Monsters are not supposed to have to hide anymore from humans, not since the vault was opened. Most of the tourists thronging the airport, many of whom have come to Budapest to experience the monster tours and meet a real life vampire, wouldn’t spot one if it bit them.
After all, I have a nice line in vampire tourism, with real vampires in underground bars decorated like Hollywood filmsets. It’s surprising how much money humans are prepared to spend on such frivolities. It’s a nice side income.
But the older generation, the ones who always knew we were hiding in plain sight—they will never forget.
Nor will I forgive.
The flow of humans waxes and wanes as I wait, time flowing over me like water in a hot spring. I imagine Lucy running back to her hotel, frantically packing, making her excuses to her friends, getting a taxi…no, getting the airport bus…to catch the first available flight she can.
I look up at the departure board. There is a flight to London Heathrow departing in an hour’s time. I’ve already checked and there were tickets left.
She will be here soon. I can feel it in my bones. She will not be leaving Budapest today.
Lucy Cushing belongs to me.
