Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Welcome, Professor Aminoff,” Saara says. She smiles sweetly at Bitrus as the boat bumps the dock. “I see you’ve brought a friend.”
“Can’t be too careful,” I tell her, getting to my feet. “Saara, Aleksi, I’m sure you’ve met Bitrus before.”
“I don’t think we’ve formally met,” Saara says, “but I’m very familiar with him. I trust you had a pleasant journey over here.”
I get out of the boat, Bitrus right behind me, muttering under his breath about seeing crazy shit. “It was more peculiar than pleasant,” I say, gesturing to the plague doctor sitting in the boat. “Can I ask what the deal is with, uh, that?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Saara says quietly, running her tongue over her teeth. “Come along now.”
“Welcome to our island,” Aleksi says, gesturing to the crumbling building, “our humble abode. The perfect place for a vampire, wouldn’t you say?” He grins at me showing too much teeth.
“I don’t know,” I sniff, the stench of death permeating the air, “I think I prefer my house in the city.”
“Aleksi is so very proud of its history,” Saara says, coming over to me and taking my arm. “Did you know over one hundred thousand people died on this island? The plague pits were just bursting with people. Too bad they were all rotted, their blood poisoned by the disease, otherwise we would have had quite a feast.”
I raise my brow and look between both the siblings as we walk along a narrow path to the building, broken iron gates swung open to one side. “Don’t tell me you were around back then.”
The siblings exchange a smug look. “There’s a reason why this city is so dear to us,” Saara explains. “It’s been our home for a very long time. Back when the locals referred to us as shroud-eaters. Before your friend Mr. Bram Stoker had to sully our names.”
Ah. So maybe that’s part of the reason she hates me. Notoriety. Vampires can get awfully territorial, and especially entitled. A lot of vampires don’t like me purely because I am the one the whole world knows by name, as if I’m the Prince of Darkness himself. When humans think vampire, they think Dracula and no one else.
Vampires are prone to jealousy like anyone else.
“My apologies,” I say to her as we continue to the building. “Bram took a lot of liberties with my life story.” I clear my throat. “May I ask why you invited me here?”
“We have a surprise for you,” Aleksi speaks up. “A gift.”
I look at Bitrus and he just shakes his head slightly.
“Don’t worry,” Saara says, noting our exchange. “You can partake too. Bitrus. It’s a way of saying we’re sorry for the way we’ve come across. As I’m sure you now understand, we’re used to the city being a certain way. Your influence with the Red Room, well, it complicates things.”
“So then why did you leave Venice to begin with?” Bitrus asks.
“You know vampires, we need to keep moving or we get bored,” she says with a shrug, flipping her stick straight blonde hair over her shoulder. I pick up the scent of human blood when she does that. Fresh blood.
“And we had good reason,” Aleksi says, “which will become clear soon.”
I grumble to myself. Things only get murkier, not clearer.
“Watch your step,” Saara says as we head through a broken path toward the building covered with rusted scaffolding. “They were going to do some work here but it got abandoned. It’s just enough to keep the building from collapsing.”
We go past a faded sign that reads Psychiatric Department in Italian and then enter through the main doors. The building feels entirely unsafe and rotted.
“And so where do you really live?” I ask them, looking around at the vines growing inside, the stacks of broken beds, the crumbling walls, and the shattered windows covered in bars, while that unsettling feeling continues to seep into my bones.
“Downstairs,” she says. “Underground. We’ll give you a tour later, but first let’s eat.”
My stomach growls at the mention of eating. It has been awhile since I last fed. I find that when I’m spending nights with Dahlia in my bed, it’s hard to make time for the Red Room. Besides, she’s been distracting enough.
“Eat?” Bitrus says, knowing that we never feed outside of the Red Room.
Saara just nods and we follow her and Aleksi down a damp, narrow hall until it widens at the end. There is a large wooden door with two seven-foot-tall plague doctors standing in front, guarding it. For a moment I think they’re statues, but they move to the side to let us in.
“The fuck is this now?” Bitrus grumbles quietly.
“This is the chapel,” Saara says, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. “And here’s your dinner.”
The chapel walls are white, molding with green fungus, and there are only a few pews standing, the rest broken. At the front of the chapel, in front of an altar lit with burning candles, are two people, a young man and a young woman, no more than twenty years old. They are naked and sitting on the floor, duct tape over their mouths, their wrists and feet bound together. They stare at us with wide eyes, trying to move closer to each other, their anguished sounds muffled against the duct tape that flexes against their mouths with each breath.