“How’s the search for dear old Mom and Dad?”
Lorien had a way about him where even a question that might have come from genuine concern sounded snarky. A kind of resting bitch tone.
Will shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It could not matter at all, or it could matter more than anything. That’s the thing about secrets, isn’t it. Some of them matter, and some of them… don’t.”
“Thanks. That’s super helpful. What do you want?”
“Is Maddox in?” Lorien looked around, as if the ancient vampire might materialize just for him.
“Is he ever in now?” Will replied. “No. He’s at work.”
“That explains what you've been up to.”
“And what have I been up to?”
“Killing vampires,” Lorien smiled broadly. “And not ferals, those you are allowed to kill. You’ve been killing vampires from good homes with makers who care about them.”
“I really don’t think I have,” Will said, though a small smirk passed over his lips. He was lying casually, not because he actually cared if he was going to be believed.
“You know, news travels fast in undead circles,” Lorien said, pulling a cigarette out. “I gave these up when I was alive," he commented. “Now I wish I’d done heroin when it would still have some effect on me. Ironic. Isn't it?”
“You’re the worst example,” Will sorted.
“And you are a murderer of men and monsters alike,” Lorien replied, sparking flame from what looked like an antique lighter, but was probably just his lighter.
“Yeah. So. What’s new?”
“What’s new is someone’s going to complain to the vampire king, he has to dispense justice…” Lorien waved the glowing tip in Will’s direction as smoke curled from the tip of the cylinder. “And you are the killer, as per usual.”
“You came here to blackmail me, is that it?”
“Actually, no.” Lorien sounded as though he had surprised himself with that reaction. “I think Chauvelin survived your massacre. I’ve been hearing this and that.”
“Well, he was at the top of the stairway, and I don’t exactly remember what happened after I went animal on them,” Will shrugged. “Should we hunt him down and kill him? Favor for Maddox? He doesn’t even have to know until it’s done?”
“Look at you,” Lorien smirked. “Hard to believe you once vomited at the mere sight of a feral.”
“Fuck off,” Will said, but with a smile.
“Let’s go hunting," Lorien said. “I have a lead.”
Together, they stepped out onto the street. Will had never really liked Lorien. He’d also never really liked anyone. He still wasn’t certain that he liked Maddox, come to think of it. He was attracted to him, commanded by him. He was enthralled and maybe even enchanted by the vampire master's magnetism. But like? That was a simpler and far more complex thing. Anyway, he liked Lorien better right now. Something about going out to do a bit of murder together was very good for bonding.
“So where is this fucking guy?”
“Chauvelin never left the city. They’re saying he’s in one of the old houses the twins used to own. It’s not far, ironically. He's been hiding in plain sight all this time.”
They walked four or five blocks until finding themselves outside a very grand row house, the kind of dwelling that you'd have to be on television to afford, or at least have done one decent movie in the nineties. Will looked up at it with a reluctantly impressed stare.
“So all these houses and assets and things. They belong to Maddox now?”
“They do,” Lorien said. “All possessions of the vampire king must go to the vampire king. Long live the vampire king.”
“So this is technically our house,” Will said with the instinct of a native criminal.
“Exactly,” Lorien agreed in much the same way. They beamed at one another in a very self-satisfied sort of way and made their way into the grand building.
It looked like it had been emptied. A light covering of dust lay over the naked floors, sills, and sashes. The curtains were the only remnants of what must have once been a terribly opulent and lavish living arrangement. Vampires always left the curtains as a courtesy.
"Where is everything?”
“Maddox had all the removables removed,” Lorien explained. “My lead says Chauvelin sneaked back in here and is squatting.”
“Sad,” Will commented. There was a depressing aura about these big old places, no matter how well they were done up or restored there was always this lingering sense of good times gone by, never to return in quite the same way. Prison was oppressive and terrible, but it didn’t have melancholy built into the walls the way this house did. “Maddox should sell this.”
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s just old.”
“To someone like me it feels fresh and contemporary. And not bizarrely simple. Humans now seem to think living in lunchboxes is the height of elegance. All square edges and too much glass,” Lorien shuddered.