Bloodliner (15 page)

Nothing.

That was why he turned and stomped off down the aisle through the passenger car. It was better for him, for now, just to walk away.

*****

 

Chapter 37

When Mavis heard Jonah slam the door shut at the end of the train car, she rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She felt liberated and guilty at the same time.

She felt liberated because she'd finally unloaded on somebody for what had happened to her as a little girl. She hadn't unloaded on Jonah's parents, the ones who'd hurt her, but Jonah had been the next best thing. After thirty years of bottling up the anger, she'd finally let it loose.

But then she felt guilty, too. Jonah might have been the next best person to yell at, but did he really deserve it? He wasn't the one who'd turned her away, was he?

As for watching her back, what more could Jonah have done? Mavis didn't really think he could have single-handedly killed Rapiarre the Lampreyus. He probably couldn't have saved her when she was drowning in the sea, either.

So why did she still feel like everything bad that had happened to her had been Jonah's fault?

Because everything sucks, and I need somebody to blame.

Mavis' life before the vampire attack on Desert Wind Presbyterian Church hadn't been so great, but her life since the attack had been a nightmare. She'd almost died several times. She'd seen an unforgettable vision of herself as a monster.

And she'd had enough. She'd been trying to act tough and sarcastic. She'd been trying not to let anyone see how vulnerable she was, but the mask was wearing thin.

Oh God, oh please let me go home.

She felt utterly alone and bottomed-out. She rolled over to face the seat-back and sobbed. Tears ran from her eyes and wet the cushion under her head.

Please help me.

And that was exactly when she heard the deep and familiar voice from above.

"Chocolate?"

Mavis turned her head and looked up. Through a film of tears, she saw the same green-eyed, red-bearded face she'd seen through the bubbles when she'd been drowning on the way out of Lyonesse.

Arthur. King Arthur.

Smiling, he pushed a candy bar toward her. "It's wonderful stuff," he said. "Guaranteed to make you feel better."

Mavis sat up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Sorry," she said. "I'm just a little worn down right now."

"Don't apologize." Arthur sat in the seat across from her and opened the candy bar. He broke off a piece an inch long and handed it over. "Just eat."

Mavis put the hunk of chocolate in her mouth and chewed slowly. It was dark chocolate, rich and bitter, with a hint of orange.

"Well?" Arthur grinned and nodded. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yes," said Mavis. Arthur broke off another hunk, and she took it. "Thank you."

"I wish we'd had this at the Round Table." Arthur broke off another piece of the candy bar and ate it. "Maybe Camelot wouldn't have fallen."

Mavis ate her chocolate and studied his reflection in the window.

Am I really sitting here with King Arthur?

He certainly looked the part, at least in terms of physique and chiseled features. He had the self-assurance and booming voice for it. He gave off a sort of energy that made him seem much more than the average person. And, of course, Mavis had seen what he was capable of in battle, which was extraordinary.

But still—
King Arthur
?

"I hear you're a woman of God," said Arthur. "A priestess."

"I guess I am," said Mavis.

"I wish we'd had women priests in the old days," said Arthur. "The men would have paid more attention with someone as beautiful as you presiding at Mass."

Mavis smiled. Arthur offered another piece of chocolate, and she took it.

"Thanks for saving my life," said Mavis. "Both times."

Arthur shrugged. "It was truly my pleasure. It would have been a great loss if I had not had the chance to get to know you better."

Mavis felt herself blush and looked away.

Is he hitting on me?

Thoughtfully, Mavis ate chocolate and wondered what it would be like to be King Arthur's girlfriend. Would his mere presence be enough to make her feel better? Would his magic touch be enough to turn her life around, to elevate her in ways she could not yet imagine?

Just one problem: he's a vampire.

Or was that a problem after all? Arthur wasn't anything like the other vampires she'd met. Sometimes, in fact, Mavis forgot he was a vampire at all.

"Have you ever thought about staying here?" said Mavis. "In the outside world, I mean?"

"You know they say I'll come back here to stay someday," said Arthur. "They call me 'the once and future king.'"

"Would you ever be the future king?" said Mavis.

Arthur stared into space. "For the right reason, yes." He met her gaze. "I would do it."

Mavis stared back at him for a long moment, then suddenly felt uncomfortable and broke contact. "All these people," she said, looking around the passenger car. "What would they do if they knew the real King Arthur was sitting right here?"

"Depends on if they knew I'm a vampire, too," said Arthur.

"That wouldn't matter," said Mavis. "The world needs you. It's in bad shape."

"Same as always then." Arthur shrugged. "And by the way, I didn't do such a great job the first time around. Camelot fell, remember?"

Mavis caught herself staring into his eyes again.

What is
with
me?

"Nobody's measured up since Camelot," said Mavis. "Nobody's even come close. You're a legend."

Arthur laughed. "Maybe
you
should get into politics. You almost have me talked into it."

Mavis sighed and shrugged. "I'm just saying. Maybe, when this mess with Stanza's sorted out, you should stick around. Consider your options."

"What if I already have plans?" Arthur smiled. "What if I already know what I'm going to do when this mess is sorted out?"

"Do you?" said Mavis.

"Wait and see," said Arthur as he handed her the last piece of chocolate bar. "Maybe you'll like it."

"Why would I?" said Mavis.

Arthur leaned closer. "Maybe you'll be part of it."

Did he just say what I thought he said?

Arthur patted her shoulder and got to his feet. "Can I get you more chocolate?"

Mavis shook her head.

"Well,
I
want some more," said Arthur. "Chocolate first, talk later, I say."

Mavis watched him walk away. So much for all the "woe is me" crap. Her past and current problems had slipped neatly into the background.

Instead of brooding, she found herself daydreaming.

King Arthur has plans for me. King.

Arthur.

*****

 

Chapter 38

Hours later, by the light of a street-lamp in downtown Berlin, Germany, Jonah and the others stared down at an old beggar vampire sitting on a curb. He was an informant of Stanza's (an old friend, apparently, who'd fallen on hard times), and he spoke English, which was a good thing.

"Conrad Kirkellan?" The vampire licked his fangs. "I might know where you can find him."

"And where would that be, Gunther?" said Stanza.

"I'll tell you." The old beggar leered at Jonah. "But first, I need a little something to wet my whistle."

Jonah shook his head. "Uh-uh. No way." Everywhere he went—Tucson, Bluegiller, Lyonesse, and now Berlin—vampires craved his blood.

"For the fiftieth time, no," said Stanza. "You can't drink my clients."

"Come on, Brünnhilde," said Gunther. "For old times' sake."

"The deal is, cash for information," said Stanza. "When we're done, you can buy all the black-market blood you want."

"All right," said the old vampire, but he wouldn't take his eyes off Jonah. "He has a place in the Spandau District, off the Orlokplatz. A...boutique."

"What kind of boutique?" said Stanza.

"Specialty items." Gunther snickered. "For a discriminating clientele."

Stanza scowled. "What's the address?"

"Number 8 Schreckstrasse," said Gunther. "Top floor."

"So that's our next stop." Mavis touched Arthur's shoulder when she said it.

Jonah winced.
To say the least, he wasn't in the mood for another road trip, especially one that involved Mavis. He wanted to get far away from her after the way she'd chewed him a new asshole on the train from England to Hamburg...not to mention, the face that she hadn't apologized for any of it since then. She hadn't said a word to Jonah, in fact...and it wasn't like she wasn't talking to anyone else, either.
If anything, Mavis had become more talkative than ever.

"Thanks, Gunther." Stanza counted out cash from a wad of bills and handed it over to the informant. "This should do it."

"How about a little bonus?" Gunther pointed at Jonah. "For the
Nibelungen
. For Siegfried."

"Who you betrayed and led to his death." Stanza looked disgusted. "As if the memory of
that
would earn you my favor."

"Cut me some slack, Brünnhilde," said Gunther. "I had a thing for you. Shit happens."

Stanza grabbed him by the front of his filthy shirt and hauled him up to face her. "Here's your bonus, animal." She shook him hard and dropped him to the pavement. "I'll let you live another day."

Suddenly, Mavis turned to Jonah, eyes wide. "Oh my God. They're talking about Norse mythology! Wagner's
Ring Cycle
. As if she were a valkyrie warrior woman."

Just then, Arthur swung an arm around Jonah's shoulders. "Anyway, you can't have Jonah." Arthur grinned and shook his head. "We're saving him for later."

Jonah saw Arthur looking at him for his reaction, but he just turned away.

Hilarious. King Arthur should've been a stand-up comedian.

"Let's get rolling." Stanza turned away from Gunther and clapped her hands.

"Good!" Arthur hurried past her, aiming for the red rent-a-car parked across the street. "I want to drive this time!"

"Forget it," said Stanza.

Arthur turned to face her, walking backward as he spoke. "I'm a
king
! I can do anything I
want
to!"

"These days, a king needs a chauffer to drive him," said Stanza. "It's the law, your Majesty."

Arthur sagged and shook his head. "Perhaps this new era is not as marvelous in
every
way as I thought."

As Jonah walked toward the car, Stanza fell in step beside him and lowered her voice. "Are you okay?"

Jonah nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am," said Jonah.

Stanza touched his arm. "You know you can talk to me, right? If you're having a hard time with all this craziness?"

"Okay." Jonah stopped and stared at her. "I'll tell
you
something if you tell
me
something."

Stanza fixed her big dark eyes on him and tipped her head to one side. "What do you want to know?"

Jonah asked the first question that came to mind. "How old
are
you, anyway?"

"I don't know." Stanza shook her head slowly. "I truly don't know."

"You lived through Camelot," said Jonah. "Apparently, you lived through Norse mythology, too. What does that make you? Two thousand years old? Three?"

"Like I said, I don't know." Stanza shrugged.

Jonah snorted. "Right."

"Well, I don't," said Stanza.

"Then tell me something else," said Jonah. "What are you really after? We're not just tracing my family tree, are we?"

Stanza looked away. "I don't know what gave you that idea."

"I thought that's what you'd say." With a dismissive wave of his hand, Jonah walked away from her toward the rent-a-car.

"All right then." Stanza took a deep breath, then straightened her red leather jacket and followed him. "Everyone's fine, I guess. Time to tangle with some vampires."

*****

 

Chapter 39

"It'll be the comedy of the century!" said Genghis. "The laugh-out-loud fun-fest that treats audiences to the biggest joke of all time!"

"
You
, writing a play about
me?
" Shakespeare laughed. "
First
you'd have to learn the English
alphabet
, my feathered friend."

Genghis, in his hawk-form, bumped against Shakespeare's bat-wing. Along with James and Thomas, they flew high in the night sky over Berlin, following the red rent-a-car carrying Stanza, Jonah, Mavis, and Arthur far below.

"Act One, Scene One," said Genghis. "Shakespeare enters, wearing a frilly pink dress and a floppy bonnet with a sunflower front and center. His make-believe tea party goes awry when his imaginary friends, Lady Macbeth and Richard the Third, beat him over the head with metaphor and symbolism."

"You've got the action, then," said Shakespeare, "but what of the romance? Have you never written a play before?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Genghis. "He's in love with his own publicity! The problem is, he and his publicity have nothing in common, because his publicity has absolutely no connection to reality."

"How clever," said Shakespeare. "If only I'd written such a crowd-pleaser instead of drivel like
Romeo and Juliet
or
Hamlet
."

"You read my mind," said Genghis. "And I'm prepared to cast you, sans audition, as
yourself
."

"Shakespeare
as
Shakespeare. Ingenious." Shakespeare banked to follow the rent-a-car as it rolled around a bend in the highway.

"It's the only role you'd be believable in," said Genghis. "A lousy actor pretending to be a lousy actor."

Shakespeare sighed. He looked at James, intending to share a sympathetic eye-roll...but James was talking to Thomas and didn't notice.

Now there's a change of pace. Why do I have a feeling the future's taking shape in that exchange?