The Vampire Club (8 page)

My stomached roared.

“
Oh, you poor, poor boy. You must really be hungry.” She grabbed me by my arm and heaved me onto a stool using one arm, and with the other she drove the tip of the knife about an inch into the wooden countertop. When I opened my eyes, I found myself sitting at a sort of bar and the woman was salvaging my eggs.

Even though she was as big as any of Dial’s other relatives, she seemed to have a heart of golden margarine melting on a stack of pancakes, and with my initial terror residing, I decided to ask her a few questions.

“
So where’s everyone else?”

“
They’re all in the study, those animals!”

Her hands moved with precision despite her obvious age. And I wondered how come she stayed so spry and spritely. She was pale and didn’t seem to be one of Toen’s cousins, who were all muscular and dark-skinned.

“
And they’ve already eaten breakfast?”

“
Every last one. Got me up a full two hours earlier to make it, too.”

“
The nerve.”

“
No kidding. Anchovy omelets, onion rings, pickled pineapple hearts, and bacon. Lots and lots of bacon.”

“
It must have been a special occasion for them to get up so early.”

“
Who the hell knows? I just make breakfast for them, for I am breakfast, hear—”

“—
me roar,” I chimed in. “Did you happen to, er, um, overhear anything while the family was eating?”

She looked at me fiercely and for a moment I thought I had overstepped the boundaries of casual conversation, but then she said, “Something about plans gone awry, and have to rethink things, and how come bacon is better than sausage.”

She was the cook, but I was the one cooking up a diabolical plan to trick information out of her. “This might be an odd question...what’s your name?”

“
Becky Fast.”

“
Mine’s Andy Barthamoo. Of the Vampire Club.” I wanted to see if that would get any reaction.

“
All the others are named Toen. Are you not a relative?”

I blushed, aware of my pale and distinct lack of musculature compared to these bronzed athletes, and said, “Gee, thanks. Anyway, I was wondering if all these people always live in this one mansion. I mean, it’s a big house, and no doubt all can live here quite comfortably, but it just seems odd that so many relatives live under one roof.”

“
Did you say ‘relatives’?”

“
Yes, Ms. Fast.”

“
Please, just Becky. They’re no family, that’s for sure.”

I blinked. “They’re not related?”

“
That’s for sure.”

Once again, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. They sure looked alike, but it meant Becky was lying. Or else Dial.

I knew where my bet was placed.

Chapter Fifteen

“
Becky, can you, uh, hold on a second. I forgot that I needed to wake my friends now.”

But what I really meant was: don’t spill all your guts until the others can hear. But I knew she didn’t guess my hidden meaning when she asked: “Should I make more eggs?”

“
Yes, enough to feed four others. Well, five, because Buddy can really pack it away. And his dream was probably exhausting.”

And as I exited the cavern-like kitchen, I heard her open the fridge and begin clambering up the face of it, using the ladder instead of the lift. Maybe that’s how she stayed in such good shape.

I pounded my way through the maze in a hurry to have the others listen to Becky Fast, but hesitated when I saw two giants playing cards by the front door. Not everyone, apparently, was attending the on-going meeting in the study.

I smiled and waved at them as I strolled by. One forced a smile and the left corner of the other’s mouth quivered. Actually, I didn’t expect even that much since we must have spoiled their fun last night.

And as I marched up the stairs, I decided right then and there that it was time to get to the bottom of things. Sure, the evidence indicated we were among the enemy, but I wanted some cold, hard facts.

Then it hit me. What a strange place to be playing cards—and so early. There were no doubt a few more exits in this mansion, and I wondered if I would find another duo playing cards in front of those as well. Yes, we were being watched, of that I was sure.

The first door at the top of the stairs was Janice’s. And that’s when I received quite a shock—I could hear her snoring like a sailor. Could I get used to snoring like that—that was, if she ever gave me the time of day and hopefully of night? I’m sure I could. A small price to pay—the snoring—when you’re with the one you love.

I cleared my throat then rapped lightly on the door. No response. Just the rhythmic buzzing. I knocked a little harder this time. Still nothing. “My sweetness, it’s time to get up.”

I knocked harder. Nothing. Harder still. Nothing. “Janice, my one and only love, I need to talk to you!”

And the bees buzzed. I looked at my knuckles. They were red and beginning to swell. My eyebrows were knotted from confusion and wonder. This time I used the side of my hand and pounded against the door like a jackhammer. “
Janice
!”

Doors opened around me. Juan said something to Buddy. Professor L asked something, but I heard all this at the back of my mind. This was getting personal. She was going to wake up if I had to stand there and pound my bloody, mangled stump of a hand all day long.

And then a cold chill gripped me even as the sweat oozed through my pores. I had a mental image of Dial in there, blissfully jackhammering away, recovering from an exhausting night in Janice’s bed, while she cuddled against him
sans
Speed Racer pajamas.

I jackhammered myself, pounding on the door. “Janice, get the hell up!”

And the door opened just as my hand was heading toward it again. I stopped my fist just inches from her pillow-creased face. Some of those creases weren’t from a pillow’s indentation—they were from the twisted fury of my rude impatience and, though she didn’t know it, my flaming jealousy.

“
You’re sweating like a pig,” she said.

And so I was. My heart was also beating as fast as my fist had recently been pounding on her door. Maybe, after all, this would be a problem for us in the future, a problem, her face told me, I wouldn’t have to worry about for a long time to come.

I peered past her but the bed appeared empty. Dial could be brushing his teeth in the bathroom, flexing his muscles in the mirror, but I didn’t think so. He was no doubt enwrapped in the orgy of our overthrow.

I tried to catch my breath while the others looked at me. I tried to smile. Finally, I managed to rasp, “Must...go...down... stairs...important.”

“
Why?” asked Juan.

“
Maid...info...on...VVV.”

“
Huh?”

I stumbled over to him and grabbed the collar of his blood-red pajamas, glad to have an outlet for my suppressed frustration. “Make like Nike and just do it.”

“
The maid has some news for us?” asked professor L.

“
And some eggs.”

“
All right, guys,” said the professor. “You heard the man. Downstairs.”

They disappeared into their respective rooms. I waited a moment to see if Dial emerged, either cocky or furtive, from Janice’s room, but the suspense became unbearable.

I began my journey back to the kitchen, but I must have been so distracted I made a few wrong turns. And when I finally stumbled into the kitchen, they were all well into their meals.

“
I fed the rest of your eggs to Cuddles,” said Becky. “They were cold.”

“
Cuddles?” I asked.

“
The Doberman pinscher. When she’s not hunting her own food, she just loves eggs.”

What mansion wouldn’t be complete without its Dobermans? Except there was always two, wasn’t there? “Where’s the other?” I asked.

“
You mean Pudgy?” She peered out the kitchen window. “Looks like he’s caught himself another wild boar.”

She placed another steaming plate of eggs and toast before me as I sat down. Janice was glaring at me, and I chose to think positively—at least she was looking at me. Dial, of course, was nowhere around. Some club member. I considered calling an emergency meeting to revoke his membership, but Becky’s information was more pressing.

“
Whenever you’re ready,” said Buddy, a piece of egg finding a strategic if not comfy little place to hide on that bridge of skin separating the left nostril from the right.

I reached over and picked the egg off. “Becky, could you come here a second?” I said, absently putting whatever was on my finger into my mouth. I liked eggs.

“
Sure, hon. Need more?”

“
No, I’m fine. Actually I haven’t even begun to start. Becky, how long were you telling me you’ve worked here as a maid?”

“
Not maid, Andy,
cook
, breakfast cook.” And boy was I glad she didn’t give that line about being the breakfast incarnate. “For over twenty years.”

I smiled at my friends as I asked the next question. “So, after working as the breakfast cook for over twenty years, you’ve witnessed a lot of events in this old mansion.”

“
No kidding. And let me tell you, not all of it, let’s say, is normal.”

As if Spock’s human genes had come back in time and possessed us, we all arched a curious eyebrow. This was indeed going more smoothly than I had hoped. Becky Fast must not have had many people to gab with and was happy to finally spill the beans. Or bacon bits.

“
Not that I mean to pry,” I said, “but could you tell us everything?”

“
That would take far too many days and breakfasts, and I don’t miss breakfast! Let me just start by telling you folks this: they are neither immediate family nor kin, and whatever they do, they do in private, and what I do hear I can make no sense of.”

I rubbed the stubble on my chin, a habit which I believe was appropriate at a time like that, especially when you’re just starting to get stubble and you feel a little macho. “How do you know they’re not related?”

“
An egg told me.”

There went some more eyebrows.

“
Moving on,” I said with a slight cough. “If they’re not related, why do so many live here?”

“
First of all, Andy, they don’t all live here. I’d say about half do. This last week has been really hectic, for that’s when the other half arrived. They do that every once in a while. But this time things are even crazier, almost hectic around here. I’m glad I leave after breakfast. I mean, they have to fill the entire back of a Bronco with each grocery trip. Then you guys arrive, and everyone seems to have settled down.”

“
Were you given any explanation as to why the sudden onslaught of guests?”

“
None, merely informed to order extra food.”

“
Do they run some kind of business?” asked the professor.

“
I’m not too sure, for I do a simple job, and I do it well, for I am a breakfast person, and if I’m not told something, how could I ever know what goes on around here?” Yet there was a gleam in her eye. House gossip among the hired help is just too juicy to ignore.

“
How many other staffers are there?” I asked.

“
About five, usually.”

“
Surely they must know something.”

“
Perhaps.”

“
You guys ever gossip?”

“
Of course not. But we talk.”

“
Come on, Becky, someone’s overheard something in the last twenty years, and I have a feeling you know.”

She looked around wildly then sat on our table. “Here’s what I’ve heard. They are hunters, of sorts.”

“
What do they hunt?” Juan asked, with a mouthful of eggs.

“
Monsters.” Matter-of-factly.

“
What kind of monsters?”

“
I don’t know.”

Monsters
? Was that the word she used? The nerve. Vampires had a bad reputation around these parts, apparently.

Professor L, however, played it off like a champ. “Come on, Becky, is that it?”

“
Yes.”

“
No one believes in monsters nowadays. Give us the real scoop, what do they really do?”

“
I-I don’t know—they’re hunters.”

“
Becky, just relax. Now think, have you ever seen any of them hunt, or seen signs of their hunting?”

“
No.”

“
No deer heads hanging in the library, and no stuffed birds that I can see,” I offered.

“
What do they do all day long?” the professor asked.

“
Mostly sit around, or go around back and do some unusual training maneuvers. Every once in a while, Raul will leave for a few days and sometimes weeks.”

“
Who is this Raul guy?” Buddy asked.

“
He’s like the boss. I hear him tell others to do stuff all the time. He’s the older guy that everyone follows around.”

Granddaddy Grandmaster? Why had he told us a different name?