Page 16 of Fangs for the Memories
“Oh, we’ll get to those. I know it’s what you’ve all come for,” the guide says with a smile before exhorting us to follow him.
“Vampire caverns.” Ferenc snorts out a breath which fogs in the chilly air. “Why on earth would anyone want to find thewampyrvoluntarily?”
“I didn’t choose this tour,” I respond, following the group.
I don’t owe this hulk of a man an explanation. I do owe him for the room service and the wine I’ve been drinking and for everything else I’m going to have to charge to the room while I’m here because I have no money. But he doesn’t get a free ride into my personal life, whatever his interest in me.
This is my ex’s trip, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it, to ensure he doesn’t. Yes, it’s petty, but petty is all I have right now. Literally all I have.
Save for a six and a half foot, Hungarian mafia boss who is a brick out house in an Armani suit following me underground.
What could possibly go wrong?
The passages we are going through get narrower, and people are breathing harder (save for Ferenc behind me). The roof gets lower too until we’re on our hands and knees, crawling around corners and bumping down deeper on our bottoms.
Until there is the sound of running water and we pop out into a vast cave which contains a crystal clear still pool. The water is coming from the stream which pours away into a deep, dark hole next to us in a roaring waterfall.
The guide is telling the rest of the group about how this cave and the pool were formed. I turn back to see what Ferenc is doing and find him surprisingly clean.
He adjusts his cuffs, noticing my gaze.
“Italian wool?” I query.
“Only the best,” he rasps.
Yes, it’s a little weird and possibly it might make Ferenc something more than just a man…and yet, when I look at him in the lamplight, he is just a man.
I’ve not paid too much attention to monsters since they revealed themselves. But I’d have had to be living under a rock not to know how some have magic, some are able to change their forms. Although I’ve never heard of them forming amafia.
I shake my head, making my helmet mounted flashlight wobble. Even if Ferenc is a monster, he can’t be any worse than my ex. And monsters are real, they’re just not the ones our mothers warned us about. Or in my case, openly welcomed into her home and took his side.
Sometimes the monsters are even related to us.
I can’t quite take my eyes off him as I wonder what sort of monster he could be, if he’s one at all.
I think the stress is starting to get to me.
Ferenc is staring intently down into the hole where the water disappears.
“What is it?”
“Vampires can’t cross running water, at least in their basic forms,” he says quietly.
“Well, the lake isn’t running water, is it?” I suggest.
He looks over at the pool. “I suppose not,” he replies.
The group moves on, but we hang behind.
“Do you know much about vampires?” I ask.
“Why, are you hoping to meet one?” he responds with a growl. “They don’t sparkle, you know.”
“It was my…” I shut my mouth before revealing my pathetic back story. “My mother does.” I shrug. “I’m indifferent. And, for all I know, I’ve already met one.”
I find myself suddenly caged up against the rough stone. Ferenc has his arms on either side of my head, and his huge body is millimeters from mine. His eyes reflect like a cat’s in my flashlight before he tips the helmet back and his face is only partially illuminated.
“You haven’t, or I would know,” he rasps.
