“Lock up, then leave and forget about us,” Auris told the caretaker as he pushed the keys back into the man’s gloved fingers. I wondered if he always said his commands out loud when he was very angry.
I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Auris handed me the parcel we had saved from the crypt. “No one will touch you,” he said. “He’s human. He has either a knife or a hammer. Come.”
He had sensed someone, then, even though I didn’t see anyone else, other than the caretaker. “None of what you just said makes me want to follow you to meet whoever we’re about to meet,” I said as I tightened my grip on both the flashlight in my hand and the bag of bones.
“Trust me. Like you did back at the Seafront Bar. Come.”
And because I did trust my vampire -- and his judgment -- I did follow him into the night. It seemed to have gotten colder. We had driven for a little less than two hours, so it was probably still before midnight, but it felt so much later.
I switched my flashlight off, realizing that the illumination of the churchyard was enough to find my way and that the wavering light cone only distracted me. Ahead of us, someone walked along the path, dressed in one of those very bulky coats, but with skintight jeans underneath so that their legs had a twiglike quality to them.
They stopped when we were close enough to spin a skipping rope, and I saw a slender, youthful face under a mop of light blond hair. Auris said something harsh sounding in Czech.
“I’m sorry,” the guy said. He had a smooth British accent, and he sounded young. “I’m not from here, but you, you’re one. Vampire. I know those black eyes. Like Jonathan. I think they are keeping him down there in the ossuary, or elsewhere. Did you… did you see him? I saw you go in.”
Well, fuck. The parcel in my hand about tripled its weight.
Chapter Six
“And what might your name be?” Auris asked, his voice charmingly sweet all of a sudden.
“Oh, I’m Charlie. Sorry, I’m a bit antisocial, I guess. Language barrier, Covid, it all sucks, you know. Please, I just want to know if you saw Jonathan down there?”
“Empty your pockets, Charlie,” Auris said, still in that sweet voice.
“My pockets?” the guy asked, and the way he said it made me realize finally that something wasn’t right. Something about Charlie felt off.
“Do it now.” Auris took a step toward him.
Charlie lifted his hands placatingly. He wasn’t wearing any gloves. “Okay, okay.” He rummaged around and dropped something heavy on the path, a hammer. Simple elegance for a churchyard brawl.
“Charlie, do you live here?” Auris asked.
“Uhm. You know. That’s a difficult question. Right now, I have an Airbnb. When I don’t have that, I live in the car. Lockdown was really shit. I mean, really, really shit.”
I let his words sink in. “Wait. Are you telling us you spent lockdown in your car?” I asked.
“Yeah. Where else? It was good, though. I only have so much on my account, and Jonathan’s cash ran out a while ago. They’ve been keeping him for that long, you know.”
Auris sighed. “Ethan, will you put your mask on, please? Charlie, perhaps you can show us to your place so we can talk in private and without the danger of frostbite.”
I had to fumble some to get my mask over my mouth and nose, and Charlie took us on a quick walk to his place, at times skipping like a kid, happy to have found an especially shiny rock.
“Are you making him?” I asked Auris at the display. Auris gave me a tight-lipped look and shook his head.
Charlie’s Airbnb was not ten minutes away from the ossuary, and that included the walk through the graveyard surrounding it.
The place Charlie had rented was a single bedroom on the third floor. There was a bathroom, functional, unfinished furniture, and bare walls. The only thing that had any character was a low cabinet in the short hallway that gave off strong Eastern European design vibes. The place was perfectly clean. The only personal item I spotted was a plastic bag on the floor that, from the looks, contained used clothing.
Charlie shrugged out of his overly big coat. He wasn’t precisely gaunt, but very nearly so. In the weak overhead light, the smile he beamed at us as he dropped on the twin bed seemed off.
“You want to sit with me?” Charlie asked and patted the rumpled duvet next to him, eyes on Auris.
“No, thank you,” Auris said and pulled out the chair in front of the small desk for me. When I sat -- awkwardly, because I was trying to put the collected bones down between my feet without the sound giving away what it was -- he casually leaned against the desk and asked, “Charlie, did Jonathan tell you not to leave him? To come for him?”
Charlie scratched his head. “I suppose he did. He would have, wouldn’t he? It’s been such a long time. I never found him. They don’t let you go anywhere else but the front part of the church, you know, and all the doors are always locked. But you got in.”
“I see,” Auris said. “When did you first meet Jonathan?”