We didn’t talk much the rest of the flight and set down in the middle of a deserted street at dusk. There were no other inhabited houses on the street, which was odd. As if knowing my thoughts, Bruiser said, “Amaury bought all the homes on the street. He kept them up as did Leo, but they have been unoccupied for more than a century.” He took off his headphones, unstrapped, and patted the pilot on the shoulder, which seemed to be a sign that he was towait. The helo began to power down, and I followed Bruiser from the helo, both of us doing the duck-and-scuttle move up to the twelve-foot-tall front gate.
The “estate” was really just a big old clapboard house with a tall privacy fence and a gated drive. Bruiser and I stood together as he rang an old-fashioned doorbell, a shrill three-ring-burst loud enough for us both to hear from outside. Minutes later, the helo was mostly quiet, and a blood-servant opened the door in the gate.
Her mouth fell open. “Primo,” she said, sounding awed. “We are honored.”
I felt Bruiser stiffen. It was too dark to see, so I pulled on Beast’s night vision and made out a dark-haired girl dressed in a sixties hippie tie-dyed T-shirt and bell-bottomed jeans. She wore a bandana headband, feather earrings, her hair was pulled back and braided, and she was barefoot. And she smelled strongly of weed.Okay.Interesting.
Also interesting was that Bruiser didn’t correct the primo comment. Instead, he said very gently, “RoseBud, I’m happy to see you again. I realize that Malita and Soledad are not expecting company, but do you think they might welcome an old friend?”
“Well. Sure.” RoseBud stuck the tip of her braid in her mouth and chewed on it while she thought. She looked at Bruiser again, and her eyes lit up. “Primo! It’s so good to see you. It’s been forever! Come on in. We’ll have a banquet!”
“I am not here to drink from your charges, my dear,” Bruiser said as we stepped into the yard. RoseBud closed and locked the gate. “I am here to ask of the old stories.”
“Oh.” RoseBud’s face fell. “They’ll be happy to see you, Primo. And I know that they’ll remember you. We spoke about you yesterday, and I showed them photographs to remind them of you. But they aren’t... they aren’t real...with it. It’s gotten worse in the last few months.” She glanced at me, wrote me off as unworthy, and raced ahead of us to the big green-painted house ahead. Her braid was still in her mouth.
Bruiser frowned after her but led the way. “RoseBud and five other blood-servants have cared for Soledad andMalita for over fifty years. It may be time to bring them back to New Orleans and let others take over.”
I didn’t sayYa think?but I considered RoseBud’s actions and Bruiser’s reactions. I knew that drinking blood from bat-poo-crazy vamps had deleterious effects on humans and even on other vamps, and that vamps drinking from drunk humans also got drunk, but this looked really odd. RoseBud had disappeared inside and left the front door hanging open in a total lack of security. We stepped inside. It was pitch dark. Bruiser turned on lights old style, by pulling metal chains. The house looked as odd as RoseBud had acted. It hadn’t seen a coat of paint or a new rug or refurbishing in fifty years or more. Everything was rotting. And I started sneezing from the clouds of ganja smoke. Bruiser took the lead and I followed, twice meeting the eyes of heads hanging on the walls and perched on shelves—dusty taxidermy of boar, deer, and turkey.
In the kitchen, things got weirder as we interrupted breakfast. Two vamps were drinking from two humans, the people stretched out on the huge farm table, a vamp sitting at either end. Unlike most feedings, there was nothing sexual about this, but there was also nothing neat. There was blood dripping here and there as the old vamps, each one with three-inch-long fangs, both dressed in frilly nightgowns, slurped.Ick.
The female vamps looked up when we entered, and one waved. Clearly, neither recognized Bruiser. When they were done with breakfast, the humans rolled off the table, and two others cleaned up the mess, which smelled too sweet, not quite fresh. More ick.
Bad blood,Beast thought.Do not eat sick-blood humans or vampires.
RoseBud said, “Senorita Omo and Senorita Martinez, we have visitors!” And then RoseBud lit up a joint the size of a blimp and started puffing.
Both vamp women came forward to Bruiser and stared at him from up close. They looked young but moved and acted like an old doddering couple. Bruiser said, “Malita Del Omo and Soledad Martinez. It is I, George Dumas. May we speak in the library?”
At the mention of his name, both vamps threw theirarms around him, smearing their bloody jaws all over his shirt front. There was a lot of Spanish and French chatter as they pulled him by the hand into the dark hallway nearest. I followed, yanking on lights as we moved. As dusty as the rest of the house was, the library was pristine, with leather-bound books from floor to ceiling, leather furniture, wood floors, and a tea table. A coal fire burned in the fireplace. I didn’t think I had ever seen a coal fire, and I wasn’t impressed at the faint heat it put out. The three of them sat on a sofa, the two vamps on either of Bruiser’s sides, and since they were still fully vamped out, I positioned myself out of the direct line of sight and pulled two wood stakes. If I needed to rescue him, I didn’t want to kill the old vamps.
After they chatted a while in what sounded like a mixture of European languages, Bruiser switched to English. “My dear friend, Malita. Do you recall the events surrounding the banishment of Adan Bouvier and his primo?”
As if they didn’t even see me behind the sofa, the two vamps bent close together in front of Bruiser and whispered in Spanish. Bruiser glanced at me and smiled fondly at whatever they were saying. The two separated and Malita said, “We were forbidden to speak of that night. But if you will send us new blood-servants, we will tell you what we remember.”
“Agreed,” Bruiser said gently. “Your servants have served long. They deserve a respite.”
The two female vamps launched into rapid Spanish, a back and forth, often overlapping dialogue, which caused Bruiser’s fond amusement to fade until all that was left was a bitter reek of sadness. He patted their hands. He hugged them. They began to rock back and forth as they talked. They reached across Bruiser and held hands, as if seeking comfort. Bruiser murmured what sounded like,“Lo siento por eso. Estoy triste por esto.”
Finally they fell silent. RoseBud appeared in the doorway, carrying in a tea set on a tray. She poured tea for the two vamps, ignoring Bruiser and me, which was just as well, as the tea set and cups looked as if they hadn’t been washed in years.
“RoseBud,” Bruiser said, “you and three of yourhousemates will pack and be ready to depart at dawn. The other two at the next dawn. Six new blood-servants will replace you. You have served in isolation long enough, and will be brought back to the Council Chambers. You have done well.”
RoseBud threw her arms high, jumped up in the air, and squealed wordlessly. Then she sped down the hall, shouting to her other blood-servants. Moments later, Bruiser and I were in the helo heading back in the dark to the private airfield near NOLA. We didn’t speak, and I figured Bruiser was processing all he had learned.
Beast thought at me,Was sick old human blood-servants and sick old vampires. Should be pushed off of high cliff, like rabid foxes.
Sick like the flu sick? Like the vampire plague sick?
No. Smelled of brain sick. Like old human with bad brain but... different.
I wondered if Bruiser had understood that. If not, our conversation was going to be a bad one. Sleep pulled at me as the vibration rattled my bones.
We landed at the private airfield and duckwalked to the waiting vehicle, which was the limo this time, not an armored SUV. Once inside, Bruiser gave Shemmy instructions and raised the privacy partition. As the vehicle began to move, Bruiser opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. He sat back in his seat, sipping, looking pensive in the dim lights that filtered through the dark window tinting. As we turned away from Lake Pontchartrain, Bruiser said, “You told me about the ceremony when Ka became Onorio. You described the room with the concrete floor and an iron witch circle set into it. About Adan stabbing Ka and draining her to death.” He went silent, staring into the night, his elegant fingers turning the stem of the glass around and around, the wine tilting slowly inside the glass.
I said quietly, “And I told you about Bethany beginning the Onorio ceremony the same way she began it with you.”
Bruiser nodded slightly. Sipped. “According to my old friends, after Bethany began the ceremony with Ka, Adan brought in two Mithrans, bound them with silver, and Adan inserted needles into their arms and performed a Mithran-to-human blood transfusion, forcing blood into Ka.”
