June 18, 1908 - Gone are the Days When My Heavy Heart is Worn on My Sleeve
Hotel Breckenridge, Morgansborough
The electric lights under the portico hummed quietly as they stepped out through the gilded doors. Only three of the four cast shadows on the grey stones before them. The valet had left his position at the door and went to retrieve her vehicle.
“I suppose this means we’ll have to go up to Jonas Ridge,” Mr. Grey twirled his hat in hand.
“Not tonight,” Mia buttoned her glove.
“Why?” Ifrit asked.
“No one takes the Mountain View Road at night, especially if they’re going up through Joy.”
“How long have you lived here?” a match illuminated Mr. Rimes face as he lit his pipe.
“My car probably wouldn’t make it anyway,” Mia pulled on her second glove.
“We didn’t really think you’d be going,” Grey said.
“Why?” Mia’s eyes narrowed with an edge to her voice.
“Well… it’s the mountains.”
Her silver car glided up the drive, its headlights bathed them in light.
“I will have you know,” she began.
“Here we go…” Rimes grumbled.
“I was reared on mountains where hiking and camping were regular pursuits, and they would hardly make those around here worthy of the name. Anyway, this won’t be a camping excursion; Mr. Miller said Ben Davis is at Eseeola Lodge. Thank you,” she took the keys from the valet.
“What do you know about Eseeola?”
“Do us all a favor and expand your literary pursuits beyond the label on the whiskey bottle by reading a newspaper for once, le flic.”
“Tick!”
At this the valet retreated indoors. Mia’s free hand twitched.
“Perhaps you should sit this one out Gick; clearly Miss Ratavoloira knows what she’s about.”
“Yeah, right! I’ve got plans with my daughter anyway.”
“We’ll say a prayer for her.”
“Maybe I’ll invite my friend Lillam,” Ifrit said in his quiet tone, ready to ease the tension.
Mia made a move to the car and opened the driver door.
“She’s training to be a hunter; she c-”
“What?!”
The three men turned just to see Mia’s gloved hand strike, with full force, Ifrit’s cheek.
“Oh shit!” Grey exclaimed.
“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!”
Ifrit cradled his face that had incurred the focused wrath of a vampire, “I thought she could help.”
Mia’s hand almost landed another blow, it paused above her head and she recoiled. Her furied gaze turned to the other men, “You two cannot be fine with this?”
“Yeah…” Rimes shrugged.
“His friend’s job is to hunt beings like us and KILL US!”
Grey and Rimes remained unchanged.
“Tu plaisantes,” she shook her head.
Of course, she was the woman, the hysterical one… the one whose whole clan had been wiped out due to hunters, what did she know? “Have a good night.” She turned and slid into her driver seat abandoning the party.
She had to pause on the road as it was hard to see through the tears or the vision of their Milano apartment where her family ghouls were dissected in the kitchen, blood splattered over the china, only ever used for her benefit; her parents’ stores ransacked and destroyed, trails of blood from one room to the next, priceless antiques, she was told not to play with as a child, in shards on the floor. Each step she knew she shouldn’t have continued.
Then finally, in their bed chamber for appearances, the curtains rods ripped from the wall, mother and father – arms out, legs together, stakes through hearts, fangs pried out for tokens, hands and feet nailed to the walls, rosaries tied around their necks for good measure – their bodies charred from the light that had come at dawn.
She tried to convince herself that she didn’t care about Mr. Grey’s pursuit of his dead wife and child or what happened to Alexandra Rimes. Yet she did… She wanted to sever ties with them and to hell with what the Norse-man said. But she wouldn’t… they fascinated her; she would relent and amend and do all she could to learn more about them and help them, for a parent caring for their child was truly alien to her.
“Not tonight,” Mia buttoned her glove.
“Why?” Ifrit asked.
“No one takes the Mountain View Road at night, especially if they’re going up through Joy.”
“How long have you lived here?” a match illuminated Mr. Rimes face as he lit his pipe.
“My car probably wouldn’t make it anyway,” Mia pulled on her second glove.
“We didn’t really think you’d be going,” Grey said.
“Why?” Mia’s eyes narrowed with an edge to her voice.
“Well… it’s the mountains.”
Her silver car glided up the drive, its headlights bathed them in light.
“I will have you know,” she began.
“Here we go…” Rimes grumbled.
“I was reared on mountains where hiking and camping were regular pursuits, and they would hardly make those around here worthy of the name. Anyway, this won’t be a camping excursion; Mr. Miller said Ben Davis is at Eseeola Lodge. Thank you,” she took the keys from the valet.
“What do you know about Eseeola?”
“Do us all a favor and expand your literary pursuits beyond the label on the whiskey bottle by reading a newspaper for once, le flic.”
“Tick!”
At this the valet retreated indoors. Mia’s free hand twitched.
“Perhaps you should sit this one out Gick; clearly Miss Ratavoloira knows what she’s about.”
“Yeah, right! I’ve got plans with my daughter anyway.”
“We’ll say a prayer for her.”
“Maybe I’ll invite my friend Lillam,” Ifrit said in his quiet tone, ready to ease the tension.
Mia made a move to the car and opened the driver door.
“She’s training to be a hunter; she c-”
“What?!”
The three men turned just to see Mia’s gloved hand strike, with full force, Ifrit’s cheek.
“Oh shit!” Grey exclaimed.
“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!”
Ifrit cradled his face that had incurred the focused wrath of a vampire, “I thought she could help.”
Mia’s hand almost landed another blow, it paused above her head and she recoiled. Her furied gaze turned to the other men, “You two cannot be fine with this?”
“Yeah…” Rimes shrugged.
“His friend’s job is to hunt beings like us and KILL US!”
Grey and Rimes remained unchanged.
“Tu plaisantes,” she shook her head.
Of course, she was the woman, the hysterical one… the one whose whole clan had been wiped out due to hunters, what did she know? “Have a good night.” She turned and slid into her driver seat abandoning the party.
She had to pause on the road as it was hard to see through the tears or the vision of their Milano apartment where her family ghouls were dissected in the kitchen, blood splattered over the china, only ever used for her benefit; her parents’ stores ransacked and destroyed, trails of blood from one room to the next, priceless antiques, she was told not to play with as a child, in shards on the floor. Each step she knew she shouldn’t have continued.
Then finally, in their bed chamber for appearances, the curtains rods ripped from the wall, mother and father – arms out, legs together, stakes through hearts, fangs pried out for tokens, hands and feet nailed to the walls, rosaries tied around their necks for good measure – their bodies charred from the light that had come at dawn.
She tried to convince herself that she didn’t care about Mr. Grey’s pursuit of his dead wife and child or what happened to Alexandra Rimes. Yet she did… She wanted to sever ties with them and to hell with what the Norse-man said. But she wouldn’t… they fascinated her; she would relent and amend and do all she could to learn more about them and help them, for a parent caring for their child was truly alien to her.
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