Page 47 of The Vampire Always Rises
“Youmight be, dear heart, but I am anything but good. Or at least, so I plan to be very naughty indeed on this exotic vacation. Tell me there’s a pool at this goat hotel.”
“I hope so. It is the French Riviera, after all.” We chatted about what Ellis hoped to do during his vacation (mostly lounge on the beach and next to pools, and ogle the scantily clad males), and what things I wanted to do (ogle Merrick).
We rolled into town shortly after that, and went straight to the hotel, a gleaming white stone building that was almost blinding in the full sun. It was three stories tall, had a center courtyard that was partially covered by a second-story verandah, and which also sported lots of plants in pots, and black iron grilles on the windows.
“Hello,” I said to the desk clerk when we arrived. Ellis was panting by the time he hauled his mammoth luggage in from the car. Kelso, having had a potty break on the green strip of lawn in front of the hotel, sat politely and gently wagged his tail. “I’m Tempest Keye, and this is Ellis Dawson. I reserved a room for him.”
“Ah,oui?” The man sitting behind an old-fashioned reception desk looked up from a book. His gaze moved from me to Kelso to Ellis.
“Yes.Oui.I hope it has air-conditioning, because it’s hot as blazes out there.”
“Hotter,” Ellis said, glancing around the small reception area. Off it, the cool darkness of a tiny dining room sat unoccupied. Next to us was an elevator and a flight of carpeted stairs. Ellis moved over to consider one of the portraits that hung on three of the four walls.
“Do you need a credit card?” I asked the desk clerk. “I’ll pay, Ellis, since I brought you out here.”
“Sweetness, you are spoiling me rotten, and I love every minute of it! I’d insist on paying my own way, but you know full well that IT pays nothing, and I just about bankrupted myself getting the plane tickets,” Ellis said, stopping in front of one painting of a girl in a Georgian-era dress. “Is it just me, or does this chickie have three arms?”
The clerk graciously allowed me to pay, and asked for Ellis’s passport.
“Passport?” I asked Ellis, going over to where he was leaning in squinting at a painting of what looked to be twin blond-haired boys. Absently, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to me before pointing to the painting and saying, “Can you see through those two boys? I swear they’re
transparent.”
“Why would someone paint transparent twins?” I asked, and returned to the desk clerk, handing over the passport.
“The dog in this picture has a forked tongue,” Ellis called over to me, pointing at a picture of a little girl and her panting dog. He looked again at the picture. “And so does the girl.”
“What of Madame?” the clerk asked. “You are not staying with us?”
“I could swear this painting is of Barnabas Collins from thatDark Shadowssoap opera that my mother loved so much.” Merrick moved a plant in a pot in order to get a closer look at a painting of a man holding a cane.
The desk clerk raised an eyebrow at me, causing me to blush. “Oh. Um. About that.” I tried very hard to not look like the sort of woman who shacked up with the first vampire she met. “I’ll be staying with Merrick. Merrick Simon. I called about him, too.”
“Monsieur Simon has not informed me about this,” the clerk said, and sat down, picking up his book again.
“Well, he will just as soon as he knows I’m here. What room is he in? I’ll go talk to him and he can tell you it’s OK that I share his room.”
“That I cannot tell Madame,” the clerk said, not even looking up. “It is the policy of the Hôtel Devenir Chèvre to not release information. I am sure Madame understands this little problem.”
“Madame doesn’t,” I said somewhat waspishly, and pulled out my wallet to extract a few euros. “Right, what’ll it cost me to get Merrick’s room number?”
“I’m going to look upDark Shadowson YouTube,” Ellis informed the room in general. “I know I’m right about this.”
The man looked horrified at my attempted bribe.“Pardon?”
“You heard me just fine. How much for Merrick’s room number?”
“Didn’t Barnabas Collins have a cane? Someone on that show did—”
The clerk looked obstinate. “I cannot be bought, madame!”
“Fine.” I picked up the handle of an old-fashioned phone that sat on the counter, clearly for guests’ use. “I’ll call him first, and then he can tell you to let me know. What room is he in?”
The look the clerk gave me was amusing, but not in the least bit helpful. “No, madame.”
“Sheesh!” I shoved the phone at him. “You dial it, then.”
“I cannot.”
