been-there-done-that.
“If that finds its way onto YouTube, I’m going to hide in the closet with Ashi. Just saying,” Christoph said, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. His curls were breaking free of their gelled prison.
Mouse grinned, figuring it probably wasn’t the best time to tell him that pictures of the highlights of the evening were always posted on the club website.
She paused in her work, grabbed a pad and pencil, and started writing.
We never really were introduced. My real name is Marcella Vilatti. You can keep calling me Mouse if you want.
I never asked—do you have questions for me? Can you tell me a little about yourself?
She handed the note to him, then went back to removing her boots. Christoph read it and sat back.
“Well, I’m from a little town called Tonopah in Nevada. It’s south of Carson City, up in the hills. I was with friends in Reno when I got bitten. Moved to California a couple weeks later and made my way to Los Angeles. Goliath found me in a hurry and said ‘join or die,’ so I joined. Worked my way up to a sort of middle rank.”
He fiddled with the note, folding it and unfolding it.
“I’m a Goliath courier. I run packages around the city. When I’m not a courier I’m a warrior. That’s how I gained my rank. Sometimes I get sent up north with a few other warriors to help one of our ally packs. I watch football and UFC. That’s about it.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know about questions. I guess I mostly wonder where people here came from. Mostly the vampires. I mean, you’ve been around for hundreds of years. I can’t even imagine living that long.”
She nodded when he finished speaking, pulling off the boots and wiggling her toes before shifting to sit Indian-style on the couch. She scribbled on the pad again. It took a while, but only because she had an awful lot to write, not because she was hesitant about answering him. As she filled up a page, she tore it off and hand it to him, then furiously continued writing until she was done.
I’m from a small town outside Florence, Italy. I was born in the late 1500s. My father was a baker, my mother a seamstress. It wasn’t the kind of life I wanted. I always admired the gypsy performers in the streets when they visited in the summers. I auditioned for a part in a play, which later gave me the opportunity to take part in one of the first operas.
I stayed in theater for a few years. That was how Max Carlyle found me. I thought he was handsome and charming, and he seduced me with the promise of centuries to perfect my art.
Max took me with him as he traveled, introduced me to many, showed me off like some great prize he’d won. After a while he pressed me into doing things to “liven up” the performances. At first I agreed, and for two hundred years I did everything he asked of me.
Once, he found a young man with a voice to rival the angels to sing beside me before an audience of vampires that included the Master of Rome. During a break, he advised me that once the boy finished his last note, I should drink of him until he truly died, the way the hero of the tale we were singing was supposed to.
I refused. He listened to my arguments, tried briefly to persuade me, but in the end, agreed to let the boy go when it was done.
He did not bring it up again until we returned to Massachusetts. The next several years were spent experimenting with ways to destroy my voice without damaging the rest of me.
Alec eventually rescued me and drove Max out of Boston. He installed another Master for the city. Max was furious, but there was little he could do. He shifted his operations to Chicago and has been the Master there ever since.
I have remained with Alec since then. I owe him more than my life for taking me out of that Hell. Now I guard his home and the people in it so they won’t fall prey to Max or anyone like him.
Christoph took a while to read the notes. When he finished, he nodded slowly, at a loss for words.
Finally he spoke up. “That’s... pretty intense.”
She smiled wryly, nodding. Then started writing again.
John is from somewhere in England. He claims he was present for the