A vision of Jia flashed across Russell’s mind, but he pushed it aside and started loading his ice chest with bottles of synthetic blood. “Is Zoltan here?”
“Mikhail teleported him to his townhouse in Budapest.” Howard sat at the kitchen table and reached for his box of donuts. “The monthly coven meeting started about twenty minutes ago. It may be awhile before they get back.”
Russell paused with the ice chest half full. “Why would Zoltan go to a vampire coven meeting?”
Howard bit into a donut. “He’s still Coven Master of Eastern Europe.”
“But he’s no longer a vampire.”
Howard shrugged. “As far as I can tell, no one wants to believe it. The villagers went ballistic when he broke the news to them. That’s why I’m still here doing security. Zoltan’s in the weird position now where someone might try to kill him for not being a vampire.”
Russell frowned as he finished loading the ice chest. “Why can’t people be happy for him? It took the guy eight hundred years to get some joy in his life.”
“I know.” Howard took another bite from his donut. “But the villagers are dependent on the tours that come twice a week. Busloads of people come here to see a real vampire castle and spend money in town. If rumor spreads that Zoltan isn’t really a vampire—”
“They could lose their cash cow,” Russell concluded.
Howard snorted. “You could put it that way.” He stuffed the last of his donut into his mouth. “At last month’s coven meeting, Zoltan broke the news to all the Vamps and told them they would have to vote on a new Coven Master this month.”
“Makes sense.” Russell piled some ice on top of the bottles in the chest, then closed the lid. “I’ll be on my way then.”
Howard sat up abruptly. “They’re back. That was fast.”
Zoltan materialized close to the kitchen counter with Mikhail, an old vampire friend from Russia. The sour look on Zoltan’s face brightened when he saw Russell. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” Russell shook hands with the only Vamp he called friend. “Thank you for keeping the fridge full of synthetic blood. I know you don’t need it anymore.” He handed a Bleer to Mikhail and a regular beer to Zoltan.
“Thanks.” Zoltan’s frown returned as he wrenched the top off the bottle. “I need a drink.”
“The coven meeting was over fast,” Howard observed. “What happened?”
“Don’t ask.” Zoltan collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and gulped down some beer.
“What’s wrong?” Howard pushed the box of donuts toward Zoltan. “Didn’t they vote for a new Coven Master?”
Zoltan shot an annoyed look at Mikhail. “The vote was unanimous.”
Mikhail scowled back. “Don’t blame me. I can’t be Coven Master of Eastern Europe. I live in Russia.”
“Close enough,” Zoltan muttered. “You could have volunteered.”
Mikhail snorted. “I have no patience for all the whining that goes on at Coven Court. I would declare everyone guilty and fine them a million euros for wasting my time.”
Zoltan sighed and reached for a donut.
“So who is the new Coven Master?” Howard asked.
Zoltan took a bite and mumbled, “They voted for me again.”
Russell scoffed. “But you’re not a vampire.”
“They don’t care!” Zoltan waved the donut in the air. “They know I could still live forever, so apparently I’m stuck with the job for all eternity!”
Howard grimaced. “They’re willing to let a non-vampire judge them at Coven Court?”
Zoltan groaned. “Lazy bastards. I should do like Mikhail said and fine them all a million euros.” He gave the Russian a wry look. “You’re not off the hook. I’ll need someone to teleport me to all the meetings.”
Mikhail grunted, then gulped down some Bleer. “Why don’t you just let me turn you back into a vampire? Don’t you miss being able to teleport?”