Page 3 of Desperately Seeking Vampire
Expect transport for Ivo to arrive as soon as I can receive clearance for the ambulance, hopefully shortly after you receive this note, which I have sent by messenger so that you might receive it promptly.
Did your father never tell you of noctambul? It is the state of, for lack of a better phrase, suspended animation. All Dark Ones can enter noctambul, but it must be conducted at a safe location where protection can be provided for as long as is needed. I will have one of the crypts at Drahanská cleared for Ivo until such time as we can locate his Beloved.
Until that time, assure him that he can rest safely.
Yours in haste,
C. J. Dante
TWO
October 2002
“You have got to be crazy!” I slapped my hands down on the police counter, so frustrated I wanted to scream. Or pull out my hair. Or even bang my forehead on said counter, but since none of that would help, I stared in impotent anger at the man who pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at the same time he gestured toward my bag.
“Here are your things,” Andreas the policeman told me in Czech. “You will not yell at me as if I am the thief who stole from all those musicians. I am doing my job, that is all.”
“Well, I didn’t steal the festival’s money, either,” I said, contemplating the wisdom of slapping my hand on the counter again. I decided to go with the axiom about sugar being more effective than vinegar, and softened my voice, managing even to summon a smile. “Look, I know this isn’t your fault any more than it is mine. Jason is my boss, that’s all. I’m just the interpreter making sure that all the bands who’ve gathered here know what they’re doing. I’m a grunt, a nobody.” I bit back the urge to add, “... like you.”
“It is out of my hands,” Andreas said, and pushed my bag at me. “Your passport cannot be returned until such time as we have cleared you of complicity.”
“Just because I work for Jason doesn’t mean I’m responsible for his actions,” I argued.
“You were traveling with him,” Andreas said. “And he had possession of your items.”
“That’s because he sent me to Prague while he was held up in Paris, and it made sense for him to take charge of the luggage. Once I made sure that all the merchandise was packed on the trucks in good order, and was on its way, I came out to Brno pronto. And boom. You guys were waiting for me at the train station. I didn’t know you were going to confiscate everything I owned including the money I had on me, and my passport.”
“This is what your documentation shows, yes,” he agreed, and I had a moment of hope that whatever nefarious activity Jason was up to wouldn’t affect me in the end. “With regards to your passport, please note that should you attempt to leave the country before our investigation is finished, you will be detained.”
“I have no intention of running away. For one, I’ve done nothing wrong. And for another, I want my stuff back. Speaking of which, what about my money?” I asked, digging through my bag until I found my wallet, which was empty of both credit cards and cash. “That was my personal money and my personal credit cards, not part of the festival funds that Jason embezzled.”
“Ah, but we do not know yet what is what,” Andreas said, just as if he was pronouncing something of great wisdom.
I realized that there was no way I was going to convince him to give me back my money. The local police who had nabbed Jason had grilled me for four hours about my involvement with Jason Amiri Sensations and, more importantly, how Jason was caught at the airport with a one-way ticket out of the Czech Republic, leaving the bands, the festival suppliers, and the traveling-circus host holding the (empty) bag. I switched my tactic again. “How am I supposed to pay for food and lodging? With you guys holding Jason in jail, I have to make sure that the battle of the bands goes off OK, and I can’t do that if I’m starving and sleep-deprived because you won’t even give me one of my credit cards. Just one will do. I’ll tell you which one has the lowest credit limit, if that would help.”
“You expected to stay here without arranging for a hotel room?” Andreas shook his head before I had finished.
“Jason arranged for that, assumedly using his credit card,” I said, more than a little desperate. “I have no idea if the hotel will honor either the reservation or the method of payment. I can’t see how you can consider my personal cash and cards as being tied to him just because I work for him.”
“It is all evidence until the detectives can verify your information. You will be contacted at that time,” he insisted, driving my frustration level sky-high.
“Right. Let’s just see what the fates have to say about that.” I pulled out a somewhat wrinkled piece of red silk with gold embroidered suns, and unwrapped it to reveal a deck of battered tarot cards.
“You play cards now?” Andreas asked, looking mildly scandalized as I shuffled the cards.
“No. I’m a cartomancer.” He blinked at me, and I wondered if I’d used the wrong word. Czech wasn’t one of my stronger languages. “I read information in cards, you know?”
“Fortune-teller?” he asked, looking even more scandalized. I had a feeling he wanted to back away from me, but only his training kept him standing attentively at the reception counter.
“Sometimes the cards can give me insight into the future, but mostly, it’s just what life wants me to know at that moment. I pull three cards, and see what they tell me.”
I turned over three cards, and made a face.
“That looks painful,” he said, pointing to the first card.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I said, glaring at the ten of swords. “It basically means that I’ve hit rock bottom, but that the only way is up. It also tells me that I need to accept a situation giving me grief in order to move forward.”
He looked pointedly at me.
