Zenon ordered lunch while I freshened up in the bathroom. When I returned and sat down, the magician and his assistant stood on the sidewalk waiting for someone.
“Sorry,” — Zenon called our server over, — “can we get these to go?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, leaving us alone.
“But I’m hungry,” I moaned, taking a bite of my sandwich. “I hate eating on the go.”
“Quit moaning. We don’t do this often.”
The server returned, handing Zenon two empty boxes and the bill. He packed our lunch into the boxes, and left money on the table, making the server blush at the tip.
“I forget we’re in 1988,” Zenon said, walking quickly and eating. “Anyway, at least the server will have a good day.” He pointed at the closest cab, and we climbed inside. “Follow that car,” he said, making the cab driver smile.
“Yes, sir,” the cab driver said. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” He put the car into gear and smashed the gas.
“Not too close,” Zenon said in between mouthfuls. “We don’t want to spook them. Maintain one car between us and them.”
“Yes, sir,” he said. I glanced at the name tag stuck on the dashboard and it read Nelson.
I sat in the backseat eating my lunch while the cab driver swerved, applying speed, then slowing down. I was worried I’d get car sick if he continued like this.
We followed the magician and his assistant for about twenty minutes and parked a block away from where they had stopped. The men climbed out of their ride, grabbed their belongings, and entered an apartment building.
“Isn’t that one of Léon’s building?” I asked, frowning. Léon owned various apartment buildings all over Sterling Meadow and his vampires mainly used them. If the magician and his assistant lived here, then one of them had to be a vampire or they knew someone who was. Which made little sense because both walked in daylight, and they didn’t burst into a cloud of flames and dust.
“Yeah,” Zenon said, paying Nelson.
“Thank you, sir. Do you want me to stay here and wait in case you need to go somewhere else?”
“No,” — Zenon said, slapping Nelson on the shoulder, — “but thanks anyway. We’ll find our way back.”
“Sure thing,” he said.
We climbed out and approached the ominous building. Dark clouds had gathered, bathing the property in shadows. The gargoyles on each of the top corners screamed silently and followed us with their hollow eyes as we neared. I shook off the icy feeling of being watched and chalked it up to nerves of steel I didn’t have. Not yet anyway. And with Dad being gravely ill, I doubted I would level up in the power department any time soon since he was the gatekeeper.
Although I’d been working with Mom and Ralph at their Ulysses Assassins business for a year, I still had a lot to learn about all the monsters that roamed the earth. Therefore, some sinister creatures still frightened me; like those gargoyles glaring down at us.
We entered the vampire-only building, and it relieved me it was still daylight, which meant no vampire would be out of their apartment and licking their lips. I’d never had a vampire munch on me before, but there was always a first time for everything. But I had nothing to worry about because the vampires should be dead to the world until nightfall; fingers crossed.
The entrance doors swung shut with a soft clank and the dim lights in the foyer were enough for us to see our way, but not bright enough to read the signs on the walls. I squinted, making out the words ‘Enter at Own Risk’.
“Just great,” I mumbled softly to myself.
I flinched when I heard footsteps above us.
“Stairs,” Zenon whispered, pointing in the direction we had to go.
“I wonder who they’re here to see,” I whispered, taking two steps at a time as quietly as possible.
“I would’ve preferred to see Léon first, but that can wait.” He stopped on the second floor and blocked me from going up the next flight. “They’re down there,” he said, pointing to the left.
“You’re better than a bloodhound,” I said, grinning.
“Of course. I’m even better than my father.” His grin matching mine.
“Does Sebastian know you lie?” I whispered, stepping faster out of his grasp or he’d pinch my shoulder like he always did. I turned the corner and almost walked into the back of Myles when Zenon grabbed me with his super-fast moves and pulled me against him.
My heart threatened to burst out of my chest from almost getting caught by them. We stayed frozen to the spot around the corner as we listened. Nothing. They didn’t hear us behind them, and Zenon slowly let go of my jaw. I groaned inwardly because he covered my mouth with his dirty hands, and I tasted old mayonnaise. I held my breath and gave a tiny shudder, wiping my mouth clean.
I turned around slowly and pointed at Zenon’s hands and mouthed, ‘dirty’, and wiped my mouth for effect. Zenon laughed at my expense and pressed his index finger to my mouth to shush me. Me being the oldest between the two, I stuck my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes. Zenon gently pushed me to his other side as we listened to the men talk to someone in a nearby apartment.
“…just tell him that someone is on to us and the sooner we find out who is spilling the beans, the better. And it’s not just us time-hopping,” Myles said angrily, making my arms pebble.
I glanced up at Zenon, who pressed his index finger to his lips, shushing me again. I frowned. I wasn’t naïve, and this wasn’t my first case. When Harry spoke, I stilled and listened intently.
“We want more money for our trouble.”
“He has graced you with your youth, and you’re able to stay in this time with no repercussions,” a man said and I didn’t recognize his voice. I assumed he was the vampire who lived in the apartment. If he was awake now, long before sunset, that meant he was powerful. “So, I would shut up about money if I were you. And if you get caught, it’s your problem. I think my employer has already paid you handsomely. So,” the door creaked, “not my problem.”
“But—” Harry complained when someone started choking and spitting.
“One thing I hate,” said the voice. “Is repeating myself. Now, do I make myself clear, or should I smite the two of you here and now?”
“No, no,” Myles stammered. “We get it. Don’t worry. We just wanted to warn you, that’s all. Isn’t that right, Harry?”
“Good,” said the voice.
Harry coughed.
Someone patted a back.
“Now,” the voice continued. “The professor and his brother are dead. So there are no other loose ends unless you two give me trouble. The reptilians are on our side, and if we need an army, they can help us now or in the future, if needed. One thing I want you to understand is nobody, and I mean nobody, informs my employer of any issues. And certainly not about Victor’s daughter. Do not mutter her name to anybody. I’m here to sort it out for my employer. Now don’t fuck this up, Harry.”
A slap sounded, followed by someone wincing.
“Yes, we understand,” Harry said, sounding wounded. “Is there anything we can do about the girl?”
“Leave. Her. Alone. And do nothing except leave town today and continue with your stupid shows like you begged for. If I ever need you again, I’ll find you.” The door abruptly slammed closed.
Zenon pointed at an open door across the hallway and we entered the tiny kitchen. They mainly used the small kitchen for their vending machine full of blood bags. I shuddered at the thought and was grateful I didn’t need to drink any blood to survive. Zenon, on the other hand, looked starving. He rarely drank blood, unless offered and fresh out of the willing female.
Footsteps neared, and the men descended the stairs in icy silence.
“Do you think we should knock on his door?” I asked, peering around the corner at the apartment. “He will lead us to the person responsible for all this.”
“No,” Zenon said, shaking his head. “That vampire is powerful, and I don’t think we can take him by ourselves. We need to speak with Léon first. He can definitely help us with him.”
“Okay,” I said, turning back to find Zenon staring at the vending machine and licking his lips. I pushed him out of the tiny kitchen and pointed toward the apartment. “I want to see which number it is.” We approached the offending apartment only to find it didn’t have a number on the door, but there were remnants of part of the number that was left behind.
I went to the apartment next door, and it was 87, the next was 89, and the one after that was 91. Odd numbers. I joined Zenon again, who kept glancing at the tiny kitchen.
“No, that’s bad old blood and most likely synthetic. Let’s go to Léon. I’m sure he can give you fresh blood out of his human tap.”
“Ugh, you’re so gross,” he said. “What number was his?”
“It’s 85.”
We traversed down the stairs, ensuring no vampire or magician and assistant was about to corner us and exited the apartment building.