Alex Van Helsing Voice of the Undead - By Jason Henderson Page 0,56
working on it.”
Sid picked up his backpack, shaking his head. “I’m going to have to write an all-new story for the last round. I don’t even know when there’ll be a chance to do it. Certainly not until after the ball.”
“The ball!” Alex slapped his forehead. “My God, is it me or do we keep an insane calendar?”
“All I know is if we don’t eat lunch I’m going to strangle someone,” Paul said.
“Good, because I’m starving,” Alex said.
As they walked back to the cafeteria, Alex felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket and retrieved it, reading a text message. He turned to Vienna and said, “Listen—do you like motorcycles?”
Chapter 24
After lunch and class, Alex and Vienna walked to the woods, Alex carrying a duffel bag. Once out of sight of the school Alex pulled two motorcycle helmets from the bag and led her to the Ninja. Vienna eyed the machine warily. It had room enough for an extra person, at least a smallish extra person.
“Just keep your feet back and don’t touch the exhaust,” Alex said, handing the extra helmet to her. He had kept the extra helmet (another loan, gift, whatever, from the Polidorium) in his new footlocker and frankly expected it to remain unused. As Vienna put it on, the black plastic covered everything but the green scarf. He had the impression of headless Vienna again, a ghoulish thought that was so bizarre it almost made him laugh out loud.
He kept the Ninja to a leisurely speed on the road to Secheron Village, watching the trees and light traffic whiz past. Vienna kept her arms wrapped around his waist.
“Where are we going?” Vienna shouted in Alex’s ear. He could barely hear her over the sound of the engine.
“To see a friend,” Alex shouted back.
“Why do you keep your motorcycle hidden in the woods?” Vienna asked, and even over the roar of the engine he could hear the charming j in jor motorcycle.
“I haven’t figured out yet how to explain it,” Alex answered. “It’s kind of for work.”
“Does everyone ride a motorcycle at your work?” She laughed, giddy.
“Even the bad guys. Elle has a Ducati; it’s pretty sweet. Well, she did. It blew up. Don’t think about that.”
They came up behind an old, tiny Peugeot and buzzed around it, picking up speed, and after that there was not a soul until they hit the village. No killer Mercedes or worm bombs or anything.
They swept into Village Square at around four thirty and cruised uptown, along the street where he had chased Elle, to the marina. Sangster was waiting at the café on the marina, sitting at a gleaming steel table with someone Alex did not recognize right away.
As Alex parked he studied the man with Sangster—about fifty, silver hair and a mustache, blue suit and a trench coat, gray eyes. Then it hit him.
Sangster laid down his menu, gesturing at two empty chairs. “Alex, Vienna,” he said, as he and the other man both rose. “Please sit.”
“Mr. Sangster.” Vienna shook his hand.
Sangster introduced them. “This is Vienna Cazorla and Alex Van Helsing. You’ve heard of both of them.”
“Of course,” the man said, taking a pair of small wire glasses out of his pocket and putting them on before shaking their hands.
“And this is Professor Nathan Montrose of Oxford University.” Sangster sat back down.
Alex shook the professor’s hand and kept his eyes on him as he backed into his chair. They sat in silence for a moment. Alex finally said, “Uh, well, I’m glad you’re alive.”
Montrose’s mouth moved into a smile and then he laughed heartily, clapping his hands as he repeated it to Sangster. “He’s glad I’m alive. Very good. Very good. Me too.”
Vienna cleared her throat, which Alex took to mean, Clue me in, anyone?
“This is the guy from the woods,” Alex said.
“Oh, my,” Vienna gasped. She clapped her fingers together and brought them to her lips. “Professor, I didn’t know what was going to happen. I’m so sorry.”
Sangster patted her forearm. “It’s all right. The professor reported in this morning and told us what had happened. That’s when we put it together.”
“Put what together?” Alex asked. He still couldn’t figure out why Sangster would want them to meet what he had thought had been a random victim. But now it appeared that the Polidorium knew him.
The professor said, “Vienna, is it?” She nodded and he continued, “You were just a pawn for the Scholomance.”
Sangster said, “Professor Montrose is an expert on the Scholomance and has been