A woman was sitting on a fence nearby—perched too perfectly on the thin rail to be human. Her ghastly pale skin and unnatural green eyes were another clear indication of what she was.
By God, she was beautiful. Perhaps one of the most stunning people she had ever seen in her life. Chestnut hair curled around her face in perfect waves. Maxine blinked, a little shy about herself as she looked at someone who she knew could have stopped streets—or toppled cities. “Hello.”
The woman smiled. It wasn’t an entirely friendly expression. “And he’s left you out here now for what reason, precisely? The hunters are gone and have abandoned you as he said they would. What is his foolish game this time?”
“He said he would come for me at midnight. I think he would like to give me one more chance to see his handiwork.” She glanced to a pile of bodies that lay stacked up by one wall. Judging by the smears of blood on the pavement, they had been placed there to clear the street. But by whom, she was not certain. Likely the vampires. She had not seen a single other living human since Dracula had taken the sun away. She gestured to the corpses. “Such a talent as it is.”
The woman laughed. “I do love those with dry humor.” She slipped from the railing and walked up to her, her emerald dress chosen to match her eyes, no doubt. “I am Elizabeth.” She held out a white-silk gloved hand.
“You must go through a great deal of those.” Maxine motioned to the woman’s hand before taking it with her own in greeting. “White must be terrible for vampires to maintain.”
The woman laughed again, and this time it was more genuine than the first. “Indeed. Oh, indeed. Come. Let me walk with you for a time. I would like to know my new sister.”
“Sister?”
Maxine could do little but go along for the ride as Elizabeth hooked her arm and began to stroll up the street with her like they were two childhood friends on a promenade in a park. As though the death around them were nothing more than daisies and poppies sprouting from the earth on a spring day.
“I suppose if I were to be literal, you might be my new aunt.” Elizabeth smiled wickedly and laughed at Maxine’s look of abject disgust. “I do not mean it literally! I prefer to refer to those around me like family. It annoys Walter to no end. I think it disgusts him a little.”
“You are a bit insane, aren’t you?” Maxine surmised.
“Indeed. I’m sure I am. I think we all are, to a certain point. After living long enough, I’m not sure we have much choice.”
“How old are you, Elizabeth?”
“I was born in 1590. I am only three hundred and some-odd years old, believe it or not.”
“Only?”
“Zadok is older than I. And Walter is nearly a thousand years old. And no one can quite fathom how old Dracula might be—not even him.”
Maxine looked off thoughtfully. “There was sand, and sun, and stone…I think he calls his origin from Egypt or Babylon.” She tried to hold on to the memory she had pulled from the mind of the vampire. But it was fleeting like the smoke of a candle drifting through her fingers. She shut her eyes and considered the imagery. But she could see a statue, carved from stone and adorned in gold. It had the head of a jackal upon the shoulders of a man. “No. It was Egypt.”
“Oh, my…you are what Zadok has said.” Elizabeth let out a breath. “Well. I’ll be certain not to touch you, then, hum? The last thing I need is for you to tear my soul to smithereens.”
“It seems to me that there is a direct correlation to the age of the soul and my likelihood to accidentally destroy them. I managed to touch Zadok without harming him.”
“Was it his idea, or yours?”
“His, believe me. Do you think I would willingly fish around in that madman’s head? I ran the risk of having to carry a piece of him inside me for the rest of time. Hardly anything I would seek willingly.”
Elizabeth smiled, and the hungry expression in her features faded. It was a real smile that she paid Maxine this time. “Touché, sister. Touché. Whatever did you find in there? I expect a bunch of abandoned sex toys and dust.”
Maxine laughed despite her better instincts. The woman had a clever wit about