11. Vampire Hunters

Chapter 11

Vampire Hunters

“ I ’m going to stake the Savinos tonight,” Hugo said.

He stood before the bathroom mirror. His arms were crossed and his lips pulled in. He waited for the reaction of his fellow vampire hunting consultants.

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Alice’s reflection yelled toward Hugo. “Do you know how utterly . . . You want to take on two vampires at once?”

“To be fair,” Hugo’s reflection said. “I agree with him.”

She snapped her attention to Hugo’s reflection, her eyes filled with a fiery glare as if she were ready to rip him apart. “You stay out of this.” With a single motion, she backhanded him across his chest, folded her arms, and turned away from the mirror. “I’m done talking with both of you.”

Hugo rubbed the sides of his head. “I need your help,” he said. “You’re the only one who can help me. I’m begging you. Please. Help.”

“I don’t want to be a part of this,” Alice’s reflection said.

“Babe, we need your help.” Hugo’s reflection rubbed his chest over his tight-fitting, long-sleeve, black T-shirt. “You know how to deal with them. We don’t. Please.”

“Why should I help?” She turned around to stare Hugo directly in the eyes. “Why should I help you storm off and get yourself killed? Get him killed.” She pointed to Hugo’s reflection.

Alice’s reflection glared at Hugo with the eyes of a scorned lover. Without breaking her gaze, she raised her left hand and pointed to her ring finger. “What about this?”

“What about it?” Hugo asked.

“When are you going to ask her?” Alice’s reflection asked. “I want my ring. He can’t give me my ring without you giving it to her first.”

“It didn’t seem like a very appropriate thing to do the past couple of days,” Hugo replied.

“So what?” Alice’s reflection said. “I want my ring. Give it to her.”

“This is all playing out entirely how I envisioned it in my head. ‘Oh, hey. While we’re fighting off this vampire attack that could destroy everything, here’s a ring. Let’s get married,’” Hugo said with a sarcastic tone.

Alice’s reflection stood in silence with her still unrelenting gaze. “Then why are you running off to get yourself killed?”

“I have to do this,” Hugo yelled.

“Why?” Alice’s reflection yelled back as she furled her eyebrows.

Hugo lowered his head and placed a hand on his hip. He slumped forward, bracing himself with one arm against the wall.

“Because this is all my fault,” he said in a hushed tone. He raised his head to meet Alice’s reflection. “If I didn’t lose . . . If I didn’t lose my temper, none of this would have happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Alice’s reflection said. Her eyes finally broke his gaze. “Don’t take responsibility for her past.”

“How is it not my fault?” Hugo asked, standing up. He pointed to himself. “I was the one who lost control of my temper. I was the one who yelled at her. I was the one who almost got her killed.”

“And she was the one who lost control of her emotions and blew her cover,” Alice’s reflection answered.

“But I was on the broomstick . . . on Galahad. I was the one in the news article. I was the one who brought the vampires here,” Hugo responded, as tears formed in his eyes. “I’m the reason the Raskins could lose their store. I’m the reason Alice has to move again. I’m the reason all of this happened. Please. Please help me fix this.”

Alice’s reflection buried her face into her hands, muffling growls as she screamed into clenched teeth and an unseen void. As they subsided, she reemerged from behind her temporary sanctum. She locked eyes with Hugo. Her eyes weren’t full of rage or contempt or scorn, but a single emotion Hugo had known many times before. The same emotion he experienced every time Elizabeth went for treatments or doctor visits or when exhaustion engulfed her—fear.

“Babe,” Hugo’s reflection said in a soothing tone as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “It’s not an ideal situation. And you know you wouldn’t allow it. Sometimes we have to play the hand we’re dealt. It’s a really shitty hand, but I think it could work. We think it could work, but we need your help.”

Alice’s reflection closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She held it for a moment before finally releasing it—a sign she accepted Hugo’s decision. She opened her eyes once again; they turned bloodshot as she held back tears. “What’s your plan, lover boy?”

Lover boy ? The first name she called Hugo when they met.

He stood upright. “Okay, here’s the play. We get them alone, just them and me. It has to be in a familiar setting. Some place I know like the back of my hand in case anything goes wrong.”

“It can’t be the old house. Too many unknowns,” Hugo’s reflection added.

“Well, it’s not going to be here,” Alice’s reflection said. “The front door remains closed.”

“The Neighborhood Market is too open,” Hugo said. He paused, losing himself in thought. “It has to be the restaurant.”

Hugo’s reflection snapped his fingers and pointed at Hugo. “The restaurant could work. Familiar territory. It’s small enough. It’s on their turf. They’d gladly accept a meeting. ”

“It would have to be after they close for the evening. Tonight,” Hugo said.

“You have the place,” Alice’s reflection said. “How are you going to do it?”

“The round tables are off to the side and only seat two, so we’ll be seated at a square table. I’ll keep Sylvia in front of me and Sebastian to the side. I can control the placement.”

“What if they jump you as soon as you enter?” Hugo’s reflection said.

“Tell them I would level the building if you don’t walk out,” Alice’s reflection answered. “Tell them I sent you to negotiate for me and ease the tension.”

“Okay. That keeps you safe,” Hugo’s reflection said. “Now how are you going to take them out?”

“I can’t walk in with a stake, so I’ll have to hide it,” Hugo answered.

“Where would you hide it?” Alice’s reflection asked.

“Up my arm sleeve,” Hugo replied. “The one from the kit is too large. It would be noticeable. I need something . . . something I could conceal. Something smaller.”

Hugo paused. He rotated his right forearm back and forth, deep in thought.

“Oh. Ohhhh,” Hugo’s reflection blurted out. “That could work!”

“What? What could work?” Alice’s reflection asked.

“Anything that once bled, right, regardless of size? That’s what I need?” Hugo asked.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Alice’s reflection asked. “Tell me.”

“Control the sweater . . .” Hugo said.

“Control the fight,” Hugo’s reflection finished.

Hugo rushed out of the bathroom and past a waiting Max, fearful of a possible bath should she enter the bathroom. Hugo flung open the closet door and dropped to his knees. He rummaged through boxes piled up, Alice and Hugo’s many pairs of shoes, and other items flung inside the closet. He pulled out a box labeled Hockey Stuff , tucked away in the back of their bedroom closet.

He opened the cardboard box and rummaged through the contents—old pictures of his playing days, his used high school game sweater, giveaways from professional hockey games, commemorative pucks. There, laying across the bottom of the box, was his newfound vampire hunting weapon—a wooden mini hockey stick, longer than a foot, emblazoned with the logo of Columbus’ professional hockey team.

Hugo shoved the contents back into the box and rose to his feet. He flung the box into the closet and shut the door. He bounded with excitement into the bathroom, nearly slipping on the checkerboard tile floor. Max still resisted entering the bathroom, tapping her paws on the ground, out of fear it was a ploy to get her in the bathtub. She wagged her tail at the excitement. Hugo held his new weapon high in the air for the reflections to see.

“With this!” Hugo shouted.

“You’re going to do what . . . scratch their back with it?” Alice’s reflection said.

“No, I’ll trim it down and turn one end into a spike. I can tape it to my forearm. I’ll wear a dark shirt. They’ll never see it. Then when I’m ready to strike, I’ll use the chair leg to dislodge it and slide it down into my hand. It’s perfect,” Hugo said.

Hugo’s reflection turned to Alice’s. “It’s the best option we have.”

Alice’s reflection crossed her arms and turned her back to Hugo’s reflection. “I don’t like this. Not one bit.”

“What other option is there? Move again? Then they keep coming after us until they get what they want,” Hugo pleaded. “We make a stand. We make it tonight.”

“Run me through it.” Alice’s reflection turned toward Hugo. “Every little detail.”

“Okay, imagine the table is here.” He motioned with his hands. “I’m sitting here, and Sylvia is across from me. Now, ideally, I want Sebastian to be to my right. It gives me a direct shot at his heart. I can stab him right here.” He pointed to a spot on his chest.

“And if he doesn’t?” Alice’s reflection asked.

“Then we control the sweater,” Hugo’s reflection stated.

“What does that even mean?” Alice’s reflection asked.

“With my left hand, I grab his shirt, pull on it, and force him closer to me. Just like in a hockey fight,” Hugo replied.

“He’ll be off balance,” his reflection added. “Then we strike.”

Hugo made the motion with the mini wooden hockey stick. “Poof, cloud of dust.”

“Well, that’s one,” Alice’s reflection said. “What about his wife, who you mostly likely sent into a frenzied rage?”

“I’m not going to lie, it’s a fifty-fifty shot,” Hugo said.

“You expect me to agree to those odds?” she asked.

“No. No, I don’t,” Hugo said. “I need him.” He pointed to his reflection, who was lost in deep thought.

Hugo’s reflection rubbed his chin and scratched his beard. He focused on the tile floor below him, working out the situation in his head.

“The only advantage we have is the table will be between us and her. It will give us time to react. She’ll probably leap across it in the heat of the moment,” Hugo’s reflection stated.

“If she leaps across it, I could grab her and force her down. Then stab from behind,” Hugo said.

“What if she doesn’t?” Alice’s reflection asked.

“Then it’s a hockey fight. I can grab her clothing and yank and pull her in a direction where I can get in a good strike at her heart,” Hugo replied.

“And if she gets you first? There’s no skating away to stick taps after it’s over,” Alice’s reflection said.

“So . . . you do know hockey lingo,” Hugo’s reflection said.

She smacked him across the chest. “I’ve been to hockey games with you, you doofus. Of course, I’ve picked up a few things.”

“You know, this could be my last night,” his reflection stated.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. She wrapped her arms around his torso. They pressed against each other, holding each other tightly.

Alice’s reflection met her gaze to his. She batted her eyes a few times. Her eyes hid a sense of sadness masquerading as lust.

“I know,” she said. She lowered her head.

He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head to stare into her emerald green eyes once more. “I was thinking?—”

“What?” Alice’s reflection asked as her puppy dog eyes met his icy blues.

He let go of her chin and slipped his hand around her back. His finger tips grazed the curves of her body before they settled onto her spine. Alice’s reflection closed her eyes and bit her lip. Her body shivered slightly as his finger tips traced an invisible line down to the small of her back. She let out a small, audible moan. He continued further, his fingers now tracing the curve of her ass.

“What were you thinking?” Alice’s reflection whispered into his ear. “Could it be what I’m thinking?”

“Are you two seriously flirting right now?” Hugo asked.

Alice’s reflection glared at him. “Shut up. Don’t ruin this for me.” She turned her attention back to Hugo’s reflection.

Hugo’s reflection grabbed a handful of her ass and pulled her closer. “I might not be coming back. Maybe, one last time, we could play hockey player and figure skater. You know, as a last request.”

She buried her head into his chest. “I hate how much I love you right now,” Alice’s reflection said in muffled tones.

Hugo’s reflection chuckled. “Yeah, but at least you love me.”

She pulled her head back. He tilted his, leaning in to meet and embraced with a kiss. Their lips pressed against each other in long, drawn out kisses. They only relinquished to take in a gulp of air and reposition their heads.

“Both of you do know I’m still here, right?” Hugo asked.

They paid no attention to him. Their hands explored each other’s backs with gentle, sensuous touches, as if discovering something new. Hugo’s reflection slid both of his hands below her ass and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, interlocking their bodies as one. He pressed her against the wall of their reflected bathroom.

She stopped kissing him for a moment to smile a Cheshirish grin. Devious, illicit thoughts no doubt running through her mind. She shook her head a few times to allow her purple hair to go wild. Her eyes filled with a fiery passion of hunger and lust.

Hugo’s reflection titled his head forward, his eyes never breaking from hers. “Tell me all about your triple axel.”

She bit her lip as her Cheshire grin grew larger. She held it for a moment before her expression turned into a smolder with pursed lips. “Tell me all about how you’d score in the five hole.”

Hugo smacked the mirror frame with the back of his hand. “Can you two stop for like five seconds?” Hugo broke their intimate moment.

They both glared at him.

He continued, “Are we doing this or not?”

“Fine,” Alice said with a disapproving stare. She turned her attention back to Hugo’s reflection. “If anything happens to you, I swear I’ll raise you from the dead to kill you myself.”

“Deal,” Hugo’s reflection answered.

Their lips familiarized themselves once again.

“So . . . I’ll make the call?” Hugo asked.

The reflections ignored Hugo’s question and continued their sexual exploits.

“I’ll make the call.” He turned and proceeded out of the bathroom, wooden hockey stick in hand.

“Turn out the lights,” both reflections yelled.

Hugo stretched back in and flicked the switch.

“Wait,” Alice’s reflection said. “Leave it on. I want to melt into those icy blues.”

Without looking, Hugo once more flicked the lights on.

Max stood up, her tail wagging, as Hugo returned from the bathroom—no bath time for her this evening.

Hugo left the bedroom and whistled. “Come on, Max. Give them their privacy.”

Max followed Hugo into the hallway, and Hugo shut the door.

Max bounded down the stairs in her usual unannounced race against Hugo to be the first one to arrive at the bottom. Hugo followed, but not in his usual bouncy stride. Each step was deliberate and slow. The harsh reality of the situation weighed on him like a suffocating blanket. He paused when he landed on the bottom step. His eyes focused on the wooden hockey stick clutched in his right hand.

This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.

Max’s bark from the living room shook him from his trance. He went to investigate. Max turned in circles, trying to get the attention of Guinevere. The broomstick floated there, not fazed by the golden retriever’s attempt for attention. Max, still very much an impish puppy, maneuvered and danced around, trying to get the broomstick to play with her. It didn’t move.

Guinevere was quite different from Galahad’s childlike disposition. Galahad . The name drew Hugo’s attention to the top of Alice’s memory shrine bookcase. The remains of Galahad—Alice’s faithful horse, dog, broomstick—rested on a stand, giving it the appearance of being in mid-flight. Hugo’s breath quickened. Vivid images of the fateful evening flooded his mind, replaying the events leading to the broomstick’s demise at the hand of the anti-magick wand. Hugo closed his eyes and dropped his head, hoping to end the guilt for Galahad’s death.

This is all your fault. Galahad. The vampires. Having to move. It’s all your fault. You have to do it. You have to fix this.

Hugo opened his eyes and knelt. “Come here, Max. Come here, girl.”

Max, not finding a playing partner in the broomstick, gleefully nestled herself into the waiting arms of Hugo. She sat in front of him, her tail sweeping the hardwood floor, and tried to kiss Hugo. Hugo resisted a little, but allowed her to get in a few licks on his face. He hugged Max and squeezed her tightly.

“I love you, Max. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” he said. She continued to wag her tail, her face smiling at the affection Hugo was showing her. “If I don’t come back, you be good for Alice.”

Max continued to wag her tail in excitement.

“Know that I love you.” He gave her a few scratches behind the ears and stood up.

His eyes bloodshot, he wiped away a tear rolling down his cheek. His somber expression turned to furious determination as he found his phone sitting on the end table. He picked it up, unlocked it, and searched online for the phone number to Sylvia’s Bistro. He pressed the entry.

The pause between each ring was an eternity. Thoughts raced through his mind. He wanted to hang up. He wanted to continue. He wished Alice was here to help.

A woman answered. “Thank you for calling Sylvia’s. How may I help you?”

“Is Sebastian available?”

“I’m sorry. Mr. Savino is unavailable at the moment,” she replied.

“I really need to speak to Sebastian. When will he be available?” Hugo asked.

“I can relay a message for him,” she answered.

“Tell him Hugo Dodds is calling. He’ll know what it’s about.”

There was a pause.

The silence was excruciating. Hugo glanced at his phone’s screen to make sure he didn’t lose connection. He continued to wait. Each doubting thought ran through his mind the longer he waited.

“Hello?” Hugo asked.

“One moment,” the woman said, breaking the silence. “What would you like to tell Mr. Savino? ”

“Tell him I’ll be at the restaurant tonight after closing. Just us. No one else. Let’s make a deal.”

The silence returned. Hugo tapped the wooden hockey stick against his thigh.

Come on. Come on.

“You’re in luck. Mr. Savino informed me the restaurant will be closing an hour early tonight,” the woman’s voice said.

“Good. Tell him I’ll be there a half hour after.”

“Wonderful. He looks?—”

Hugo hung up the phone. He continued tapping the stick against his thigh. Hugo focused on the red velvet couch. The memory of his first night together with Alice drinking wine drifted through his mind, when he unknowingly messed with her magical hourglass and slowed time. The memory of the same hourglass saving Alice the night he rushed her lifeless body home. How he was able to revive her with The Lovers’ Kiss. The silly little spell. That stupid spell.

Alice’s words rushed back to him. Some have died trying to obtain it.

He marched out of the living room, opened the basement door, and descended the stairs. On this night, two more names would join the list. Sebastian and Sylvia Savino. Hugo would make certain of it.