Regardless, I kept going to the horrible screeching door. With any luck, the noise would wake that punk Renfield who’d snapped his fingers in my face last night. Granted, he did pull me out of Léna’s memory, but he sneered while doing it. Ergo, ipso facto, he’s a punk who does not deserve a solid eight.
The stairs and tunnel weren’t as scary this time. I knew what to expect and I didn’t have a vamp on my tail. Of course, now that the idea had popped into my head, I had to check… The vampires all seemed to be down for the day, all except one who was stirring. I paused in the tunnel to see who it was. Clive should know that one of these people could move around during the day. The vamp felt familiar, like a mustachioed green blip.
I didn’t know why Vlad was up and around, but as he wasn’t following me, I didn’t care. I lucked out when I emerged into The Bloody Ruin again. No one was paying attention as I slipped out of the hall into the bar. Trying to look like I belonged there, I walked through the bar and out onto crowded streets.
Quite a few people were headed up Castle Hill toward the Buda Palace, which I planned to visit while I was here. Right now, though, I was heading across the bridge for food. The Danube sparkled in the late afternoon sun beneath me. The Parliament building dominated the skyline, sitting on the opposite bank of the river. It speared the cloudless sky.
During down times at The Slaughtered Lamb, I’d been reading about the best places to visit in Budapest. The Parliament building topped most lists. It was stunning, an enormous neo-Gothic structure, much like its counterpart in London. When the Habsburgs ruled, they brought a strong western European influence with them, resulting in opera houses and cafés that would have looked at home in Vienna.
Hungary’s parliament building had a center dome with two symmetrical halls running out from the center. Every window, wing, and courtyard was designed to strain heavenward.
The rest had done my leg good. No limp today. I was aware of it, aware of a gingerness in how I walked, but it wasn’t paining me. On the contrary, my whole body relaxed, happy to get out and move. I passed an ancient church, modern shops, busses, cars, pedestrians. Budapest was hopping and it was exhilarating to be a part of it.
The downtown retail area was filled with every kind of shop, restaurant, and bar. Wide avenues were reserved for foot traffic, and I fell in line with all the others. I looked up restaurants nearby and found one with a Michelin star rating only a block away.
When I entered, the host, a dark-haired woman in her thirties, wearing a black dress and a perfect red lip, welcomed me in English. How did she know?
Glancing at my shorts and running shoes, she asked, “Do you have a reservation?”
Dang. The food smelled amazing. I didn’t want to leave. “I don’t. It’s just me. Do you have a small table somewhere? I promise to eat a great deal of food, spend a lot of money, and leave quickly so I can continue sightseeing.”
Eyebrows raised, her lips curled up. “How could I refuse such a generous offer?” She held up a finger. “One moment. Let me check.”
She moved away from the front desk and I picked up a leather-bound menu, wishfully perusing. My stomach growled, but thankfully no one was close enough to hear it.
She returned a few minutes later. “It’s on our terrace. I had them set up a small table for one in the corner. Does that work?”
Nodding eagerly, I said, “Yes, please.”
She glanced at the menu in my hand, so I tried to pass it to her. “Keep it and come this way.” We passed through the beautiful restaurant’s, rough stone walls, white linen tablecloths, copper, wood, marble, a marriage of history and modernity.
When she took me upstairs and opened the door to the terrace, I held my breath a moment. The seating was basic, small wooden tables, metal chairs with funny, fluffy backs. That wasn’t what had caught my attention, though. Glass walls and an open roof meant an unparalleled view of Budapest.
The only empty table on the terrace was at the end of a row of tables, butted up against the window. It would be uncomfortably narrow for two people, as there was a post behind the chair, keeping it from moving back. Since no one was with me, though, they’d pushed the table into the bench opposite the chair, giving me more room and a spectacular view in two directions.
“Your waiter will be right with you,” she said and then headed back down to the first floor. I looked out over the rooftops of Budapest and fell a little in love. Directly in front of me were the twin spires of the ancient church I’d passed. Pulling up the map app on my phone, I discovered it was Our Lady of the Assumption, founded in 1046.
Sometimes it hit me at strange moments. Clive and that church were about the same age. To have lived through architectural movements, social eras, to have participated in them, and to still be here now was mind-blowing. I sometimes got overwhelmed by the now, and he’d lived through now, then, and way the hell back then. I understood why some of the really old supernaturals went crazy.
Lost in that thought, I jumped when the waiter spoke to me. “I’m sorry.” I gestured out the windows. “My mind was elsewhere. What did you say?”
He nodded kindly, taking a moment to gaze at the view with me. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”
I’d already studied it downstairs. Handing it to him, I said, “I’d like the experience, please.”
He tucked the menu under his arm. “Of course. Your first course will be right out.”
The experience was a twelve-course meal set by the chef. It included dishes like smoked eel, foie gras, white asparagus, guinea fowl, and venison, each plated with its own sauce or accompaniment. It all sounded very fancy and delicious, and I was here for it.
While I waited, I texted Fyr. For a man who worked late nights, at either The Slaughtered Lamb or Stheno’s place The Viper’s Nest, this was still early morning. I didn’t want to wake him. I just wanted a Fergus update when he had the time.
I received a text back almost immediately of Fergus and Alice, two impossibly large dogs lounging on the sidewalk at Fyr’s feet.
Fyr: Coco and I decided to hit the café around the corner. The barista loves the dogs and always gives them treats. How is it there?
Me: Thank you for taking care of my boy! He looks happy. Things here are fine, except for all the vampires:) Budapest is beautiful. I’ll send you guys some pics. I’m wandering around today.
Fyr: Sounds good. Protect your neck.
