It’s extremely different. The sun was out then, and I jumped in by choice. I wasn’t attacked by spring-loaded waterspouts.
Waterspouts? Really, Sindari. I had no idea you were so melodramatic.
Rivulets of water are assailing my ear canals.
Dimitri stopped beside me in front of the broken door of the carriage house. “I don’t see a doorbell.”
“I think this thing predates electricity.”
Now that we were closer, I could tell the vampire was down below somewhere. But I assumed he could come up quickly if he wished.
I left the noisy Fezzik in its holster and drew Chopper. When I stepped inside, an ancient floorboard creaked underfoot. So much for silence.
Piles of junk rose everywhere, enough to bring every garage-sale shopper and picker in droves, and the scents of dampness and moldy straw filled the air. A loft overhead sagged under the weight of more junk, and built-in shelves along the walls held even more. I had a feeling it had all been here long before the people selling the house had moved in. And long before most of the houses on this street had been built.
A breeze swept in through a boarded-up window, shattered glass on the floor underneath it. Creepy creaks emanated from several directions. I stopped moving. The creaks continued.
“Did the real-estate listing mention a haunted barn?” Dimitri wasn’t moving either. The creaks and groans came from all around us.
“I don’t think such features go in the MLS. Not everybody would see it as a selling point.”
Something broke free from the loft and clattered onto a pile of rusty metal.
“I’m surprised nobody ever tore this place down,” I added.
“I bet some of this stuff is cool. I’m tempted to turn on my flashlight app and look for materials for my new projects.”
“If you want to stay up here and do that, you can. I didn’t mention it earlier, but your fancy neckwear isn’t going to save you if the vampire is hungry.”
My senses told me the vampire was still lower than we were, but he wasn’t directly under us. He was farther back, behind the carriage house. Was there a root cellar or something back there?
I wandered toward the rear wall, looking for a trapdoor.
“You’re making me consider it…” Dimitri tapped on the flashlight app and pointed the beam toward the piles. “But in all the horror movies, doesn’t the guy who gets separated from the person with the gun and the sword usually end up eaten?”
“You’re thinking of the dumb blonde girl who hears a sound in the basement and goes to explore by herself.”
He looked at my hair.
“Don’t say it.”
“Who, me?” His roving flashlight beam paused on some shelves full of boxes. “Oh, man, is that an old Lionel train set? It’s the box, at least. I gotta see if there’s anything in there.”
Using my own flashlight app, I kept looking for the trapdoor while he clambered over tarp-covered piles to get to those shelves. There had to be an entrance to a lower level somewhere. The vampire had to go out to find blood now and then.
The creaks and groans continued, the whole structure sounding like it could collapse at any moment. As I rounded a pile of junk in the back, my light played over the seams of a trapdoor. It was made from the same old wood boards as the rest of the floor, but the seam was clear, as was a pull-out handle tucked into a groove.
Expecting a tight space, I traded Chopper for Fezzik, put my phone away, and activated my night-vision charm. Dimitri’s nearby flashlight beam made me wince with its brightness, but I kept my back to him.
When I opened it, the trapdoor creaked even louder than the rest of the carriage house. I might as well have rung a doorbell. There was no way the vampire didn’t know I was coming.
Nothing so grandiose as stairs awaited me. The dusty rungs of a ladder led down to a tiny bricked-in room. I didn’t see a door, but I assumed there had to be one. All the dust made me frown with doubt. Maybe this wasn’t the way the vampire came and went. Even the undead disturbed dust.
I dragged a rusty ship’s anchor over and used it to prop open the trapdoor, then climbed down the ladder with one hand. With the other, I pointed Fezzik downward, in case someone popped out or I triggered a trap.
The carriage house groaned and creaked again, followed by a noise that sounded like branches scraping against a back window. When we’d walked up, I hadn’t seen any trees around the building.
A puff of dust rose when my boots hit the bottom. This definitely wasn’t the way anyone went. I almost headed straight back up, thinking to check for root cellar doors around the back of the carriage house, but ran my fingers along the walls for a quick search.
A thunderous scrape came from above, and I looked up in time to see the anchor shift aside and the trapdoor thump down. I almost yelled to Dimitri that his joke wasn’t funny, but magic plucked at my senses. And it wasn’t dwarf-yard-art-enchantment magic.
Wrought-iron bars slid out of holes I hadn’t noticed and clanged into place inches under the trapdoor. I sighed, debating if Chopper could cut through them or the brick walls surrounding me. With enough time, I was sure I could do it, but I sensed the vampire heading in this direction. Somehow, I doubted he would stand patiently by while I hacked at his security system.
I glanced at the time on my phone. I still had fifteen minutes left of the twenty I’d asked Sindari for. He wouldn’t be coming to rescue me any time soon.
15
A rumble came from behind me, and I whirled, Fezzik pointing at the hidden door before it opened.
“Oh dear,” the male figure standing in the tunnel said, eyeing the barrel. “Are you here to rob me? Do I need to raise my hands? What’s the protocol here?”
He was strikingly handsome if also strikingly pale, with black hair pulled back in a bun and a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. He shifted from eyeing my gun to eyeing my neck—maybe I should have borrowed Dimitri’s cervical collar—but his gaze didn’t linger long. He met my eyes, his brows rising in inquiry.
“I brought you some brochures,” I said.
“Really? I so rarely get old-fashioned mail anymore. It all comes from the interwebs. Would you like to see my laboratory? You’re not one of my fan-girls, are you? They’re usually younger. An astonishing number of teenage girls are interested in making potions and aren’t put off by my fangs.” He flashed those fangs.
I tried not to take his interest in teenage girls as creepy. It was hard.
“I’ll take a tour if you’re offering.” Fourteen minutes until Sindari came looking for me. I didn’t trust Mr. Sexy with his Hungarian accent.
“Certainly. This way, please.” Zoltan bowed and extended an arm toward the tunnel. “Pardon the dust. You came in the back way. This used to be a meat locker.” He glanced up at the bars and made a hook motion with his finger. “Naturally, I have no use for a meat locker.”
“Just a refrigerator for your blood?”
“Chilled blood? What a dreadful thought. I can’t imagine the vampire who would accept such an off-putting thing. The nutrients are most superior, the flavors most nuanced, when the blood is warm and straight from the vein.”
“Uh huh. Do you drink wine?”
“Certainly not.”
“Guess that answers that.” I pointed the gun down the tunnel. “You go first, friend.”
“Ah, yes, the robbery. I forgot. Will you need me to show you to my valuables? I didn’t bring that many with me when I left Europe. It was a tumultuous time back then.” He led me through unlit tunnels, and I was glad for my night-vision charm.
“I’m not robbing you. I’m hoping you can answer a couple of questions. I’ll pay. Also, the brochures are from Nin Chattrakulrak in Seattle.” Sadly, my pronunciation of her last name was even more execrable than my pronunciation of her signature dish. “She makes magical weapons and is branching out into armor and thought you might be interested. Or maybe she thought you’d mention her shop to the teenage girls. I’m not quite sure.”
“Armor? Interesting. I do have various security systems around the premises, which you’ll discover if you shoot me and attempt to take my wealth, but I rarely feel the need to secure my person. Usually, I find that my superior strength serves sufficiently in confrontations.” He looked over his shoulder as he swung open a door and entered a surprisingly well-lit room. “Unless I’m facing someone with a gun full of magical ammunition. Here we are. Welcome to my laboratory.”
Laboratory and video studio, I decided as I stepped inside, eyeing a three-monitor computer, mic, and sound-engineering setup that any internet video star would admire. The bright red lights appeared to be infrared rather than LED or fluorescent. Maybe infrared was safe for sensitive vampire flesh.
The red light gleamed off a huge metal barn door on the wall to the right of us. Was that where he kept his coffin? If so, it was a touch grandiose.
Opposite the computer setup were counters full of condensers, test tubes, flasks, and lots of other chemistry equipment I couldn’t name. Was that a centrifuge? When Nin had said Zoltan was a vampire alchemist, I’d been imagining bags of herbs and mortars and pestles. The lab rats in cages lining one wall were closer to what I’d envisioned. I decided not to ask if they were for experiments or dinner.
As I walked deeper into the lab, I stepped on a floor tile that was identical to the others but that shifted underfoot, depressing a half an inch. A fluke of an old floor? No, Zoltan turned, leaned his hip against a counter, and smiled at me.
The big metal door ground as it shifted along its slider to reveal a dark room. A dark room with two glowing red eyes inside. A sweet earthy smell wafted out, as something made a skittering sound.
“Food, Luca!” Zoltan clapped his hands.
A tarantula as tall as I was and much wider hustled out and sped straight toward me. I fired four times before it got close, the bullets sinking into its brown furred torso, and it didn’t slow down. It was probably hopped up on some alchemy potion.