Page 27 of Fangs for the Memories
You can take the vamp out of Transylvania, but you can’t stop him craving thick walls and a moat.
I leave the car right in front of the white stone edifice he uses as his nest and stride up to the heavy double doors, throwing them open easily, despite the lesser vampires behind them wanting to bar my entry.
“I’m here to see Dominik,” I say, brushing a few flakes of snow from my suit sleeve.
“The master is sleeping,” one of his thralls says, squaring up to me.
A thrall has no fear of werewolves, not like a full vampire. A thrall has no fear of anything other than not serving their master.
“I very much doubt it. Dominik hasn’t slept in centuries.” I push the thrall out of my way and climb up the wide central staircase, lifting my head and releasing a howl which could raise the dead.
Although the dead are all around me, so in this case, it’s to make sure the dead who don’t want to be deader remain in their coffins.
“For fuck’s sake, Ferenc, put a bone in it,” Dominik growls over the balcony above me. “And get in here.”
Same old vamps, still thinking we all need permission.
I’m at the top of the stairs in less than a blink of a human eye and through into his sanctum. The door is closed, and because he always wants to prove he’s better, he’s standing in front of me with a vampire turn of speed.
“Fuck, you look terrible,” I say, throwing myself down on one of his overstuffed velvet couches.
His room is dark, lit by lights designed to look like candles. The sun hasn’t quite gone down yet, and unlike the myths humans like to weave around vampires, the mature ones don’t sleep during the day, but they are marginally slower.
But still faster than an average human and almost as fast as a werewolf.
“Fuck you,” Dominik says, pouring himself a glass of red liquid I’m not even going to pretend is wine.
“Look, I have better things to do than be dragged halfway across the city at your call.”
“There’s a rogue,” Dominik says, downing the contents in one single gulp, his fangs extending and retracting as he wipes the back of his hand over his mouth.
“I know, I’ve met him.”
“What? Where?”
“Mátyás-hegji.”
“The caves? They’re abandoned, by royal decree,” Dominik says. “Too many tourists,” he adds with a grumble.
“Not abandoned anymore. Seems like yourroyal decreesdon’t carry the same weight they used to.” I snort.
Dominik fixes me with a red-eyed glare. His pale face is almost blue. It looks like he hasn’t been getting enough blood, which is highly unlikely given the amount of thralls he has who would be more than willing donors. Which means he’s inflicting his current condition on himself for some reason, one I’m not really interested in.
“This one is dangerous,” Dominik growls.
“To you, maybe. To me, no.” I unfold myself from the stupid couch. “And I’m not letting any vampire bother me, rogue or not.” I stride to the door.
“Wait, Ferenc,” he says quietly.
His enthralling doesn’t work on werewolves, and he knows it, so if he’s asking me to wait, there has to be a reason.
I pause, my back to him because if nothing else, Dominik and I have been through a lot together, and for better or worse, I trust him.
“He wants more than just the city. He wants to open the vault and declare war on the humans.”
A chill runs over my skin. I turn back to look at the ancient vamp, who only looks a day over thirty.
“Why?”
