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Authors: Valerie du Sange
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The man didn’t seem to particularly mind. They kept
circling, and circling.
It was two against one. Pierre considered making a run for
it. If the second guy joined in, it could get ugly.
The thought of escape broke his concentration just a
little, but Maloney felt it and took advantage. He sprang
at Pierre and threw him to the ground and pressed his body
on top of him.
“Got him!” Maloney yelled. “Now
what?”
Pierre struggled but Maloney had his knee between his legs
and was pressing into his balls. His balls were one of the
only two things Pierre had in the world that meant
something to him. So he kept still.
“What do you want?” he said, trying to find the
right tone of not too weak and also not pissing anybody
off.
The second guy walked over holding a greenish loop over his
shoulder and handed it to Maloney who was sitting on top of
Pierre. Maloney shook the loop, and the end whipped against
Pierre’s legs, lashed them, then gripped them tight.
“Whipster is the best,” the man said, talking
to Pierre as though expecting him to agree.
“Whipster rules,” said Maloney.
“Shut up, Maloney,” said the man.
Pierre was immobilized now, completely wrapped up in the
greenish cords. Duct tape went across his mouth. Then,
slowly, he was lifted up by those giant hands to face his
attacker.
“Good evening, Pierre,” said the second man,
circling around him. Pierre was all wrapped up like a fly
who’s had attention from a spider. “No need to
greet me, I understand, sorry about the tape,” he
said, laughing.
The man’s eyes were…wait a minute! Those
pupils–
Pierre would bet his last euro this smaller dude was a
vampire.
Maloney stood behind him, or loomed rather, because he was
immense, an actual giant. He was grinning his head off,
chattering excitedly and hopping from one foot to the other
like a five year old about to get an ice cream cone, his
lank hair falling into his face.
They talk funny, thought Pierre. Not French. Not British.
Even though vampires have incredible language facility and
can speak the language of wherever they are, they can still
get hung up on regional accents. He supposed they must be
American, and not from the South, which was the only
American accent Pierre was familiar with.
“We’ve come a long way to find you,” said
the vampire. “My name’s Dominic,” he
said, and let out an enormous cackle while grabbing Pierre
and swinging him up and over his shoulder. “All the
way from Chicago. Ever been to Chicago, Pierre?” he
said. “Oh right, never mind,” and cackled
again.
Dominic cracked himself up, that was clear. But he was not
in Mourency to entertain himself.
“mMMMmmmff,” said Pierre.
“Is that so?” Dominic said. “I’m
just taking you to my car. Rented a Mercedes. Love it. Ever
driven one? CLS -class. I really
wanted the SL-class roadster, but then we wouldn’t
have room for you, would we?”
The car was parked on the sidewalk across from a footbridge
crossing the river. Dominic waited for Maloney to unlock
the trunk, and slid Pierre in, leaving the trunk-door open.
He grabbed Maloney by the arm and walked him out on the
footbridge. The river slid quietly underneath them, the
green surface impassive, showing nothing of the life
underneath. The night-birds were singing, and there was a
hum of insects down by the water even this far into
October.
“I want you to calm yourself down,” Dominic
said. “We need him alive because we have a long list
of questions to ask him and we need. those. answers. If we
don’t get the answers, You-Know-Who is not going to
be happy.”
The big man looked like he might cry.
“Cheer up, Maloney! When we’re done with this,
we’ll almost be ready to go home. Where our reward
awaits us.” Dominic looked a little misty-eyed just
thinking about it. It was important to focus on the
circling, and circling.
It was two against one. Pierre considered making a run for
it. If the second guy joined in, it could get ugly.
The thought of escape broke his concentration just a
little, but Maloney felt it and took advantage. He sprang
at Pierre and threw him to the ground and pressed his body
on top of him.
“Got him!” Maloney yelled. “Now
what?”
Pierre struggled but Maloney had his knee between his legs
and was pressing into his balls. His balls were one of the
only two things Pierre had in the world that meant
something to him. So he kept still.
“What do you want?” he said, trying to find the
right tone of not too weak and also not pissing anybody
off.
The second guy walked over holding a greenish loop over his
shoulder and handed it to Maloney who was sitting on top of
Pierre. Maloney shook the loop, and the end whipped against
Pierre’s legs, lashed them, then gripped them tight.
“Whipster is the best,” the man said, talking
to Pierre as though expecting him to agree.
“Whipster rules,” said Maloney.
“Shut up, Maloney,” said the man.
Pierre was immobilized now, completely wrapped up in the
greenish cords. Duct tape went across his mouth. Then,
slowly, he was lifted up by those giant hands to face his
attacker.
“Good evening, Pierre,” said the second man,
circling around him. Pierre was all wrapped up like a fly
who’s had attention from a spider. “No need to
greet me, I understand, sorry about the tape,” he
said, laughing.
The man’s eyes were…wait a minute! Those
pupils–
Pierre would bet his last euro this smaller dude was a
vampire.
Maloney stood behind him, or loomed rather, because he was
immense, an actual giant. He was grinning his head off,
chattering excitedly and hopping from one foot to the other
like a five year old about to get an ice cream cone, his
lank hair falling into his face.
They talk funny, thought Pierre. Not French. Not British.
Even though vampires have incredible language facility and
can speak the language of wherever they are, they can still
get hung up on regional accents. He supposed they must be
American, and not from the South, which was the only
American accent Pierre was familiar with.
“We’ve come a long way to find you,” said
the vampire. “My name’s Dominic,” he
said, and let out an enormous cackle while grabbing Pierre
and swinging him up and over his shoulder. “All the
way from Chicago. Ever been to Chicago, Pierre?” he
said. “Oh right, never mind,” and cackled
again.
Dominic cracked himself up, that was clear. But he was not
in Mourency to entertain himself.
“mMMMmmmff,” said Pierre.
“Is that so?” Dominic said. “I’m
just taking you to my car. Rented a Mercedes. Love it. Ever
driven one? CLS -class. I really
wanted the SL-class roadster, but then we wouldn’t
have room for you, would we?”
The car was parked on the sidewalk across from a footbridge
crossing the river. Dominic waited for Maloney to unlock
the trunk, and slid Pierre in, leaving the trunk-door open.
He grabbed Maloney by the arm and walked him out on the
footbridge. The river slid quietly underneath them, the
green surface impassive, showing nothing of the life
underneath. The night-birds were singing, and there was a
hum of insects down by the water even this far into
October.
“I want you to calm yourself down,” Dominic
said. “We need him alive because we have a long list
of questions to ask him and we need. those. answers. If we
don’t get the answers, You-Know-Who is not going to
be happy.”
The big man looked like he might cry.
“Cheer up, Maloney! When we’re done with this,
we’ll almost be ready to go home. Where our reward
awaits us.” Dominic looked a little misty-eyed just
thinking about it. It was important to focus on the
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