Business Makes Strange Bedfellows (3 page)

She led the way back down the alley, but as they got to the end and were about to step out onto the street, Vi stumbled and swore. Putting one hand out she braced herself against the wall, her hand was shaking again.

"What is wrong with you?" Gert looked her over, noting the grey pallor had only gotten worse, and the skin around Vi's eyes and mouth looked swollen and discolored. "Are you ill?"

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." Vi tried to push her way. "I haven't eaten in a few days, but I will rectify the problem tonight. I assure you."

"Haven't eaten?" Gert thought briefly about what Vi ate, and her mind skittered away from that thought.

"I told you." Vi tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. "The thrill of hunting unwilling prey wears off after a few decades."

"Here." She didn't think—she just stuck out her arm. "Eat."

Vi stared at her. "What?"

"I'm here; I'm willing." She undid her cuff and turned her sleeve away from her wrist.

Vi stood fast, and then her fingers wrapped around Gert's lower arm, her grip hard and unbreakable. The turn of her wrist revealed the soft inner wrist marked by protruding veins. She looked away, not wanting to actually watch what came next. She braced herself for pain, but when it came, the pain was not in her wrist, but instead in the palm of her hand.

Her gaze snapped back to Vi, who was bent, her mouth pressed to the hand she cradled between her own. The pain was like having needles driven through her flesh. Gert ground her teeth, but still a small choked cry escaped. It felt as if Vi were trying to bite clear though her hand, and she thought wildly that she'd made an awful mistake. Then came a sucking-pulling sensation from deep inside her hand that seemed to reverberate all the way up her arm. Through sheer force of will, she kept her other hand at her side, her fingers clenched so tightly she was sure to have nail marks on her palm, although every instinct was telling her to strike at Vi. She bit back any other noises of pain before they could escape.

Vi straightened up finally, although she didn't let go. "Thank you." Her voice had gotten deeper with that pleasant rasp, more like it had been when they'd first met, and her color was much better.

Staring down, the marks on her palm were small, Gert noticed, more like pinpricks, although they'd felt like quilting needles going in. The fingers of Vi's other hand smoothed the marks on her palm, the touch feeling soothing and cool against her skin, not stinging as she had expected.

"The palm is one of the most painful areas of the body to pierce," Vi said, her voice low. "There are so many nerve endings there; the skin is so sensitive, but you suffered through it beautifully, my dear."

Her cheeks heated. "Yes, well, warn me if you're going to do something like that again." She pulled her hand free, and Vi let her.

"You did offer." Vi's gaze had gone heavy lidded.

"I was expecting you to drink from the veins in the wrist."

Vi's hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, and for a moment Gert thought Vi was going bite her again. She tensed, but Vi only lifted her hand and brushed a quick kiss across the back.

"Next time."

"What are we going to do about the creature? We might have some idea of where it's hiding, but how are we going to lure it out?" She pulled her hand away trying to change the subject and alleviate some of the heat and tension in her gut although she wasn't sure it was at all a bad thing.

"Tomorrow night." Vi reached into her overcoat and pulled out a silver cigarette case. "Meet me in front of my apartment. I know someone who might have the information we need." Lighting her cigarette, Vi stepped into the street, hailed a cab.

"I will see you tomorrow," Gert said when she was in the cab, and Vi nodded.

"Indeed, the sooner we wrap up this case, the better." She slammed the door of the carriage before Gert could think of an answer to that.

*~*~*

New York City's Lunatic Asylum loomed in front of them, its octagon-shaped tower pointing to the sky. Behind them, the water was grey and choppy, and above, the darkening sky threatened rain along with the coming night. Vi strode up to the heavy wooden front door of the large building and rapped on it with her walking stick. A stern-looking bearded man opened the door.

"The asylum is closed for the night." He frowned at both of them. "Come back in the morning."

"I wish to speak with Dr. Blackburn." Vi stuck her foot in the door before he could close it again. "Tell him De Luca is here and wants to speak with Sheridan."

Something flickered across the man's face, almost like fear. The man shut the door with a thud, but Vi seemed unconcerned.

"Who is Sheridan?" Gert asked.

"He is the foremost scholar of the alchemic study of the occult and anything else of the weird and unseen worlds."

Vi took out a cigarette and tapped it against her case.

"And what does he do here?" She had a bad feeling that she knew the answer as she looked up at the huge asylum again. The octagonal tower was flanked by two long wings of the facility that housed New York's insane who had been turned over to the state.

"Oh, he's an inmate." Vi put her cigarette away without lighting it and turned back to the door as it swung open, revealing the same man as before.

"Dr. Blackburn says he will speak with you," the man said, stepping back to let them in.

Cold rain began to fall, and she hurried to follow Vi into the main building of the asylum. Lamps were lit inside, showing a rather inviting space, white walls and a grand staircase going up to the second floor. The octagon tower ceiling also housed windows; it was easy to imagine sunlight pouring down into the building on nice days. It would be a very different, far less foreboding place then.

The bearded man led the way to the left, around the staircase, and then knocked on a door bearing a brass plate with 'Dr. Blackburn' inscribed on it.

The door was opened by a grey-haired man in spectacles who peered out at them. "Ah, Miss De Luca, come in."

He held the door open for them, and Vi gestured to Gert as they entered. "Thank you, Dr. Blackburn. You may know of my companion, Dr. Bower."

Dr. Blackburn's expression clouded for a moment, but he nodded politely. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Bower."

She suspected he wasn't but smiled nonetheless, settling herself in a leather upholstered chair in front of his large mahogany desk.

"I was told you wanted to speak with Sheridan." Dr. Blackburn turned back to Vi.

"Yes, I have a question I believe he can answer." Vi pulled off her gloves and tucked them into her top hat.

Dr. Blackburn frowned for a long moment before shaking his head and sighing. "I won't ask if you are sure or if you can handle him." He stood and unlocked a drawer in his desk, taking out a heavy ring of keys. "Just try not to agitate him overly much this time."

"I'll do my best." Vi flashed a smile that was mostly teeth.

Dr. Blackburn pulled on his overcoat and hat before leading the way out back into the main body of the building. He headed for the back of the building this time and stopped when he came to a heavy iron door reinforced with rivets. Dr. Blackburn unlocked it and pushed it open, revealing a metal staircase beyond it, leading down.

They descended the staircase single file, as the air becoming significantly cooler the further down they went. The walls on either side of them were stone with oil lamps bolted onto them.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dr. Blackburn unlocked another iron door and pushed it open with difficulty. A man stood at the other side, a huge man with arms like a dockworker, his head shaved with a gold ring in one ear.

"One of our guards." Dr. Blackburn nodded to him as the guard watched them impassively.

"Who are you here to see?"

"William Sheridan."

The guard grunted and then moved a large metal crank embedded in the wall. Ahead of them was a heavy grate blacking the hall, like a portcullis. As the guard turned the crank, the set of bars rose into the ceiling high enough for them to pass under.

Now they were in a long hall with rows of metal doors, each with a small window set into them. There were voices and the sound of movement behind the doors, but Vi seemed untroubled by it, so Gert did her best to concentrate solely on their destination.

The door where they stopped was a little more than halfway down the hall, and Dr. Blackburn flicked the small window open and looked inside before unlocking the door.

"Sheridan," he called. "You have visitors."

Vi stepped into the cell and, after a moment's hesitation, Gert followed her. Dr. Blackburn and the guard stayed outside in the hall, she noticed. She tried not to flinch when the heavy metal door was closed behind them.

The cell was not particularly well lit; just one lamp secured to the wall close to the ceiling allowed her to see a dark-haired man of about medium height and build curled up on the bed at the far end of the room.

"Who is your friend?"

Sheridan sounded normal, and if anything, that was almost more unsettling.

"This is D.r Bower." Vi introduced them. "I need your help, Sheridan."

"Oh?" He uncurled then, turning towards them. Gert could see dark circles under his eyes and clear outlines of his bones, as if he'd been starved. There was also a mottled bruise along the right side of his face. "And how may I help you?"

"What do you know about the Old Ones?"

The change was immediate. Sheridan's body shook all over, flailing on the bed. His eyes rolled back in his head so only the whites showed, and he made choking noises deep in his throat. Gert took a step forward, worried he'd choke on his own tongue.

Vi's hand on her shoulder stopped her, which was for the best because seconds later, Sheridan sat bolt upright and then threw himself off the bed at Vi with a long high scream. His teeth were bared, hands out like claws. Vi caught him by the throat and lifted him so only his toes touched the ground as if he weighed nothing while he gasped and clawed at her hand.

"The question, Sheridan," she said, voice calm as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"You're all going to die." Sheridan let out a manic laugh around Vi's grip on his throat.

Vi tsked. "So melodramatic. If you were to lure one of the young of the elder-kind, how would you do it?"

"I wouldn't." Sheridan giggled, and Vi's mouth tightened into a thin angry line, her grip tightening.

"Just answer the question."

"Would you bring Richard to me if I did?" Sheridan cocked his head to one side. Vi's eyebrows went up, and her grip on Sheridan's throat loosened a little.

"You know I can't do that," she said, voice gentler than before. "Even if I could, he wouldn't come."

Sheridan seemed to deflate in her grasp, going limp, and then he was thrashing, trying to claw at Vi's face. "You're lying!" It came out in a half-choked scream. "You're lying; he'll come. He'll come for me." He began to cry—large, shuddering sobs that wracked his body.

"Sheridan." Vi lowered him so he was standing on the floor again, although she did not let go of his neck. "Tell me what you know."

"You need something that sounds like the call of its mother." Sheridan got out between sobbing gasps, and Vi let him go.

Sheridan crumbled to the floor, still sobbing, and curled into a fetal position bruises standing out livid on his neck. Gert swallowed.

"Time to go." Vi walked to the door and rapped on it with her cane.

Dr. Blackburn opened the door, and Vi led the way back into the hall. Even when the heavy door was closed and locked again, they could still hear Sheridan crying on the other side.

Gert was quiet, lost in her own thoughts as Vi said their farewells to Dr. Blackburn and then during the trip off Blackwell's Island back to the city. When they climbed into the carriage that would drop them off to their respective apartments.

"Did you have to be so harsh with him?"

Vi turned to her. "He would have killed you if I'd let him go. He would have killed you to hurt me, or maybe try to force my hand, make me find Richard."

"Richard?" Sheridan had said the name as well.

Vi pressed her lips together again. "Richard Lawrence is one of the very few other vampires whose existence I know of. Sheridan was Richard's lover for a long time, brilliant in so many ways, but in the end, Richard broke him."

She looked away, out the window of the carriage at the darkened city.

"You took me to see him not just to get information—you could have done that alone, after all—but to make a point." She studied Vi from across the inside of the carriage. It was hard to make out Vi's expression in the darkness. "Or to give a warning."

Vi stirred, finally. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps it was a warning."

"But I don't understand." Gert felt a little lost. "I thought you wanted me. That was the reason for our deal."

"The warning is not to abstain from sleeping with me." Vi stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankle, and gave her a small smile. "Or even not to share your blood. The warning was against becoming emotionally attached. The world is a far darker place than you know."

Arching her eyebrows, Gert thought of the creature devouring the brains out of the body back at the laboratory, but didn't argue.

"Don't worry." The carriage pulled to a stop in front of her apartment. "I am not planning on becoming emotionally involved with you anytime soon."

She slammed the door of the carriage before Vi could answer.

*~*~*

There were three human hearts on the tray next to the small electrostatic generator. Usually these sorts of experiments were the highlight of her day after the hours of tedious dissection and note transcription was complete. Today, though, she found it hard to concentrate on her work.

She dug her pocket watch out of her waistcoat pocket and placed it next to the tray of hearts. Picking up the long metal wand attached to the generator, she inserted it into one of the hearts before beginning to crank the machine. The air around her filled with the faint crackle of electricity, causing the hair on her arms and the back of her neck to stand on end. On the tray the heart twitched, spasming a little.