5. Dinner and Unusual Drinks

Chapter 5

Dinner and Unusual Drinks

“ S hould we bring a bottle?” Alice asked as she peeked into the bathroom. The thought of bringing a gift raced through her mind all day. Rarely was she invited as a guest to someone’s new home, and she didn’t want to seem like she was imposing. “I can grab one from downstairs.”

Hugo finished buttoning up his dark blue shirt. “I don’t know. Maybe?” He turned to the mirror. “What do you two think?”

Alice and Hugo’s reflections were in the heat of an intense, passionate kiss. They ignored the question.

Alice whistled. “You two. Knock it off for a moment.”

They stopped; their eyebrows arched in annoyance at their non-reflective selves.

“I don’t care,” Alice’s reflection said.

“Does it matter? They probably have a bunch of wine there, anyway. It’d be like giving air as a present,” Hugo’s reflection said. “Kind of useless.”

“He’s right,” Alice’s reflection said. “Useless.”

“Do you know what’s not useless?” Hugo’s reflection whispered to Alice’s reflection, staring her in the eyes .

Alice’s reflection locked eyes with Hugo’s reflection. She whispered back, “What?”

“Every waking moment with you,” he responded in a low growl. “My heart burns for you. I can’t stand it. Every moment we spend apart is torturous.”

“Wait. When are you two ever apart? You’re together all the time. All you do is make out,” Hugo said.

They glared daggers at Hugo.

“Hey! You’re ruining the mood,” Hugo’s reflection said.

“Out. Now,” Alice’s reflection commanded as she pointed to the door.

“Lights off,” Hugo’s reflection added.

“No,” Alice’s reflection corrected. “Leave them on. I want to stare into your eyes.”

“Oh, I love you,” Hugo’s reflection said.

“I loved you first,” Alice’s reflection replied.

He lifted her up, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. They renewed their sensual conquest.

“You two have fun,” Alice said.

Alice’s reflection waved for her to go away. Alice moved back into the bedroom, and Hugo followed.

“Have you considered getting a normal mirror? Hang that other one off to the side, so I don’t have to guess at how I look.” He tugged on his sleeves and fixed his shirt collar.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Alice said with a smile. “You look fine.”

They exited the bedroom and descended the stairs. Loud whines, playful growls, and the occasional dog toy squeaker echoed from the living room. Hugo and Alice removed their coats from the rack and slipped them on. They glanced into the living room at the noise.

Max held her toy cauldron in her mouth, a gift from Alice last Christmas, shaking it back and forth. She bent down in a downward dog position, ready to jump and play, except her partner was unwilling. Guinevere hovered in the air, unfazed by the playful advances of the golden retriever.

“I don’t think she wants to play with you, buddy,” Hugo said.

Max stopped and focused on him, her tail wagging with excitement. She trotted over to Hugo and Alice, excited at the prospect of leaving.

He continued, “You have to stay. We’ll be back.”

Alice bent down and rubbed Max’s head. “You be good while we’re gone. Keep Gwennie company. We’ll see you later.”

Max stood there, thrashing her golden tail back and forth in a manipulative attempt to get them to take her with them. It didn’t work.

They opened the door and exited.

“Be good. See you later,” Hugo said as he closed the black door behind him.

Darkness engulfed Ravenhill Drive. Nighttime crept in earlier and earlier in the chilly November air. Only the light from porch lamps fought back. A car or two drove down the street. Children played and protested as they were called inside for the evening.

“Are you ready?” Alice asked.

“Yep,” Hugo replied.

“I mean, are you ready to go in there?”

Hugo paused, focusing on his former white, folk Victorian home. He flexed his hand and then nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you certain? We can call it off if you don’t want to go.”

“I’m good. It was my home. It’s not any longer.” He tapped the purple siding of their house with the back of his hand. “This is my home now. I’m good.”

Alice smiled and took his hand.

“You’re not going to stare at her all night, are you?” Hugo teased.

“For the last time, I think I was dehydrated or something. I got lightheaded and was kind of out of it for a while,” Alice replied.

Hugo arched his eyebrow and smiled to give her a playful, discerning look .

“Honest.”

“Let’s go,” he said with a smile.

Hand in hand, Alice and Hugo headed down the gray porch steps. They crossed the yard and up the steps to the front door. Even though the porch light was off and the darkness filled the void, the crimson red paint on the door was unmistakable. Alice squeezed Hugo’s hand at the first sign of change to his old family home.

“Their home, not mine,” he said before knocking on the door.

The crimson door opened. Sylvia stood in the door, shadowed by the backlight behind her.

“Good evening and welcome,” she said, backing away from the doorway. “Please enter and make yourselves at home.”

Alice and Hugo entered. Sylvia shut the door behind them.

Hugo stood in the hallway, taking in the new decorations. The walls were painted a dark, blackish-green color. A sharp contrast from the lighter, beige color when Hugo lived there. Crimson red curtains were drawn over the windows in the living room. Chesterfield style furniture, all in black leather, filled the room. The walls were filled with various picture frames and old family relics.

The shelves and mantle of the fireplace, once white, were now the same blackish-green as the walls. Each shelf was filled with an assortment of books. Some new, but mostly old, as if they were original copies. Their canvas bindings were frayed and well worn. The leather-bound books had an inviting appearance as if the soft, supple leather beckoned Alice to open them to discover their secrets. The light throughout the house was dim and flickering, simulating candlelight.

The once bright and cheerful happy home was steeped in an eerie darkness.

“I love your hair,” Sylvia said. “It’s so unique and vibrant. Your hat too.”

“Thank you,” Alice responded as she removed her hat and tousled her hair.

“You can hang up your coats in the closet if you’d like. Sebastian should be finishing up dinner in a moment,” Sylvia said as she retreated down the hallway toward the kitchen. Her backless red dress swayed with every step as the hem glided above the hardwood floor.

Sylvia disappeared into the kitchen. When she was gone, Alice and Hugo glanced at each other.

“I think I’m underdressed.” Alice gestured to her outfit. She wore a long sleeve, black, tunic blouse which flared out at the bottom like the skirt of a dress paired with a blackish-gray pair of jeans.

“Me too,” Hugo said. He wore a blue button-up shirt and dark blue jeans.

Hugo opened the closet door and hung up their outerwear. They proceeded down the hallway to the dining area.

A crimson red tablecloth covered a rectangular table. There were four place settings—two on each side—with gold silverware and black napkins. Wine goblets were placed behind every plate. A black candelabra with red candlesticks melted away in the center of the table. Alice glanced at Hugo, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned in and whispered, “Need I remind you, you’re the one with purple hair and a purple house?”

“Fair point,” Alice replied.

Sebastian entered carrying a large plate of pasta in one hand and a bowl of sausage, peppers, and onions in a tomato sauce in the other. He set them down, one on each side of the candelabra.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made my favorite dish—a family specialty from back home in Italy. Sweet Italian sausage with peppers and onions in homemade red sauce,” he said. “I hope you like garlic. We Savinos have been known to add a little too much to our sauce.”

“Are you from Italy?” Hugo said. “Not to offend, but I don’t hear an accent.”

“Sí.” Sebastian brushed off his white apron. “And no offense taken. I lost my accent with age. I was much younger when I came over. Although my family was originally from Italy, I grew up on the French side of the border. So, I’m a bit of Italian and French. It’s also why I wanted Antonio’s secret recipe; although he wouldn’t give it to me, no matter the price.” He chuckled.

Alice’s mouth watered at the as the sweet aromas filled her senses. “It smells wonderful.”

“Thank you. Please sit,” he said. “Sylvia went downstairs to grab a bottle of wine from the wine cellar.”

“You have a wine cellar downstairs?” Hugo asked.

“More like racks. A modest, personal collection I don’t sell in my restaurant,” Sebastian said. He rolled down his red sleeves, adjusted his black tie, and straightened his black vest before taking his seat.

Alice and Hugo sat down as well.

Sylvia entered carrying a bottle of wine and set it on the table. “It took me awhile to find it. It’s an older vintage,” she said.

Sylvia collected Hugo’s and Alice’s goblets and began filling them. The reddish-purple liquid sloshed around before coming to a rest. She filled hers and Sebastian’s as well. “We love wine. Are you two big wine drinkers?”

“More than you know,” Alice responded.

Sylvia smiled and set the bottle down. She tilted her head as if she knew a secret. “Are you The Neighborhood Witch?”

Alice blushed and shied away from Sylvia’s question. Hugo glanced at Alice.

“You look very similar to the woman on the bottle at the store. I thought maybe the wine was yours,” Sylvia added as she took her seat.

“No. Well . . . yes, but it’s not—” Alice stumbled over her words, trying to find an answer.

“We work in distribution,” Hugo said. “A partner asked Alice to pose for their label considering her witchy appearance.”

“We’re in distribution too,” Sebastian said. “We own Red Heart Distribution. It’s the top distributor in the state. Who do you work for?”

“Umm . . .” Hugo was at a loss for words .

“We work for an independent distributor. A small one. Very small. Brand new, even,” Alice said.

“A micro-brewery? How wonderful. What’s the name?” Sylvia asked with a smile.

“Moonlight Brewers,” Hugo said with a wink to Alice.

“Moonlight Brewers . . . I’ve never heard of them,” Sylvia said.

“They’re very small,” Alice said. “The Neighborhood Witch is their first offering.”

“Getting in on the ground floor. I admire your entrepreneurial spirit,” Sebastian said. “We started offering our own brand as well.”

“Red-Hearted Queen,” Sylvia said.

“Sebastian mentioned it at the restaurant,” Alice said.

“Have you tried it?” Sylvia asked.

Hugo and Alice glanced at each other as if they were telepathically negotiating what to say next. They negotiated with facial expressions, which Alice interrupted to take the polite path. Alice wanted to tell them there was something in their wine, but didn’t want to disrespect them, especially as guests in their home. Alice turned her attention back to Sylvia.

“Oh, we’ve had it three times,” Alice replied. “Twice when it first came out and again recently at your restaurant.”

“How was it?” Sylvia asked.

“Well . . . “Alice answered, breaking eye contact as she struggled to find the right words. “There was something in the wine the first two times. Something about it didn’t quite taste right. Hugo had a bad reaction to it.”

“Two reactions,” Hugo added.

Inquisitively, Alice leaned to Hugo and whispered, “When was the second one?”

“Halloween night when we had too much to drink, and you helped me home. I’ll tell you about it later,” he replied under his breath.

“See.” Sylvia tapped Sebastian’s arm. “There was something wrong with the first batch.”

“We had a . . . production error with the first batch. We weren’t aware of it until it was too late. We think we have it perfected now. We had to cycle a year of the vintage first,” Sebastian said.

“The most recent batch at your restaurant was much better,” Hugo said.

“We can give you a few bottles to take home if you’d like,” Sylvia offered.

“That’s very generous, but—” Hugo started.

“We insist,” Sebastian said. “It’s a new batch. Much better. Very dream-like, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you,” Alice replied.

“Please dig in before it gets cold. I’m going to play some music if you don’t mind,” Sebastian said.

“No, music would be great,” Alice said as she picked up the bowl of food and dished it out on her plate.

Sebastian went into the living room. The melodic tones of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” filled the house. Sebastian returned in time for Sylvia to hand him the bowl of Italian sausage.

“‘Moonlight Sonata’ is my all-time favorite song,” Sebastian said. “It helps me unwind after a busy, stressful day.”

“I love all things moon related—” Alice began as she poked a piece of sausage with her fork. “But “Clair de Lune” is my favorite moon song.”

“‘Clair de Lune” is a flirt. It’s a tease,” Sebastian said. He picked up his wineglass and took a sip. Sebastian focused his gaze on Sylvia, never wavering, and smiled. “‘Moonlight Sonata’ is a lover. It’s more romantic. It commands and builds anticipation in a way that forces the listener to surrender to its beauty. It relishes in your vulnerability, yet makes you feel safe and secure. It tugs at your heart strings and leaves you wanting more, but you know it won’t last forever. That’s what makes it wonderful. It’s the sad beauty of a lost love.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he peered into Sylvia’s sapphire blue eyes. He never took his eyes off of her. Sylvia traced the top of the wineglass with her finger, never breaking her gaze, as if she was entranced by him. An uncomfortable silence, backed by the piano notes, filled the room. Sylvia took a sip.

“‘Can’t Help Falling In Love,’” Hugo broke the silence. “That song would probably be my favorite. I danced to it at my wedding.”

“How long have you two been married?” Sylvia asked, breaking her intimate moment with Sebastian.

“No, we’re not married,” Alice answered.

“I was married before, but she passed away,” Hugo said. “It was our song.”

“I’m sorry,” Sylvia said.

“Thank you,” Hugo replied.

“Life is so precious. It’s a shame we can’t hold on to it forever,” Sylvia said.

“Very true,” Hugo said. He paused and took Alice’s hand. “I have Alice now, and she means the world to me. I’d do anything for her.”

They smiled at each other before taking a bite of the food. The mixture of spicy and savory flavors excited her senses and enraptured her imagination. This was the creation of an expert chef.

“This is exquisite,” Alice said.

“Thank you,” Sebastian said with a near mouthful.

“You should try the wine,” Sylvia said.

Hugo lifted his glass and smelled the inside. “It smells heavenly.” He took a sip and sloshed it around in his mouth before drinking. “Tastes great too. Very sweet. Did you make this?”

“No,” Sylvia said. “But it did serve as inspiration for our wine.”

Alice picked up her glass. She swirled the wine and smelled it, breathing in the earthly aroma. She held it up to her lips and took a sip. The acidic, reddish-purple liquid washed over her tongue. The sweet taste enticed her taste buds. There was something else, something hidden within the wine—a foreign taste. A taste she couldn’t conjure in her mind, but it seemed familiar. It wasn’t as bitter as the Red-Hearted Queen taste.

Hugo took another generous sip. Alice did as well. The Savinos joined in. Hugo refilled his glass.

“Enjoying the wine?” Sylvia fixated onto Hugo’s eyes.

“Very much. Thank you,” Hugo said.

Alice’s eyes narrowed; her right eyebrow arched. This wasn’t a stare she would give someone when paying attention to them speak. It wasn’t a flirtatious look. It was something else. It was a look of purpose. A look of determination. A look of . . . intensity.

Alice took another sip, holding the glass to her lips. She sloshed it around in her mouth. There was that taste. That familiar taste. She couldn’t quite place it. She had tasted it before, but rarely. It wasn’t any ingredient she ever used when making her wine. No, it was?—

Alice spit the wine back into the glass without making too much noise. She didn’t want to alert the Savinos of her action. Alice darted her eyes over to Sylvia, who was still focused on Hugo. A quick glance over to Sebastian, and he was staring back at her. They bent in closer, almost leaning into the food on their plates.

Alice set the glass back down. A distraction so she could slide her other hand below the table. She gulped. “Where is this from?”

“Europe. Near the French and Italian boarder,” Sebastian said. “Close to my old home.”

Sylvia never acknowledged Alice. She intently focused on Hugo as he picked up the glass.

Before he could take a sip, Alice snapped her fingers. The wine spilled all over his shirt. He backed away in his chair and stood up, breaking Sylvia’s concentration on Hugo.

Hugo picked up the napkins. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out of my hand.”

Alice jolted up and grabbed Hugo’s arm. “Thank you for dinner, but we better go soak his shirt before it stains.”

“Nonsense,” Sebastian said. “Please sit and finish your meal. I can take your shirt and soak it for you.”

Alice tugged on Hugo’s arm, attempting to drag him back down the hallway.

He resisted.

“If they’re offering, I don’t want to be rude. ”

She glared at Hugo and pointed to the door with her head. “We need to soak your shirt,” she said in a raised voice.

“Why don’t you get a new shirt and come right back?” Sylvia offered.

“I can go get a new one,” Hugo said. “Stay and I’ll be right back.” He started past Alice.

“I’ll come with you,” Alice said as she followed him.

Sebastian and Sylvia stood and followed them.

Alice quickened her pace, never taking her eyes off the Savinos. The darkness of the hallway enveloped them. She frantically searched for the closet doorknob behind her, only finding the wood door with the back of her hand. She didn’t want to turn away and lose track of the Savinos. Her hand landed on the brass knob, but slipped. She tapped around a few times and found the knob once again.

The Savinos lurched down the hall, their eyes focused on Hugo and Alice with the unsettling intensity of predators hunting their prey. As they moved deeper into the darkened hallway, their eyes glowed a bright red. They never broke eye contact, moving at a methodical, even pace.

A force pulled Alice toward them. She wanted to break eye contact with Sebastian, but something held her in place. The longer she peered into his eyes, the stronger the pull. She struggled to move her head, but some unseen restraint held her gaze.

She turned the knob and flung the closet door open. The wooden barrier broke her connection, and she was free to move her head. She put on her hat and removed their coats from the closet. She left the door open and ducked her head down. She dragged Hugo toward the front door.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Alice said.

“You should return,” Sylvia commanded as she pushed the closet door closed.

Alice averted her eyes from Sylvia to avoid falling under her sway .

“We’ll be right back,” Hugo said.

“Open the door,” Alice whispered to him.

Hugo opened the door and exited. Alice avoided the Savinos, only keeping their feet in the corner of her eye.

“Again, thank you. It was lovely.” Alice left, shutting the door behind her.

Hugo and Alice rushed down the steps toward their house.

“What was that about? I can get a new shirt on my own,” he said.

She squeezed his arm, still carrying their coats. “We need to get inside now!” She headed to their porch, dragging Hugo along.

“Why? What’s happening?”

“I’ll tell you inside,” Alice said.

They hurried their pace across the lawns and up toward their front door. Alice kept glancing over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. They raced up the steps. Alice removed the brass key from her pocket. She opened the door. They hurried inside, and she locked the door shut behind them.

An excited Max wagged her tail as they returned home. Hugo petted Max on the head.

“So, do you want to let me in on what’s happening?” he asked.

Alice tossed the coats onto the landing step. She pulled back the sheer black curtain to look outside. There was no one.

“Alice! What’s going on?” Hugo asked.

She turned around. “There was something in the wine,” Alice said. “Something similar to Red-Hearted Queen.”

“It didn’t taste the same. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I tasted it before. You said you had another reaction on Halloween night. What happened?”

“It was a dream. A very real dream. After I passed out, I woke up in my bed. I was laying with someone who I thought was Elizabeth, only it turned out to be you. I swear . . . for a moment, it was real. You were there. We were in bed together. It was as if everything before was the dream and what I was experiencing was reality. I wouldn’t have snapped out of it if Max didn’t wake me up. ”

Alice leaned back against the wall in deep thought. “It was real . . . at least to your mind. It probably would have kept going until something snapped you out of it. You were in a trance-like state, reflecting what your mind wanted you to see. Similar to how the ghoulish Elizabeth appeared before you in the restaurant until my voice brought you back. The same with Max.”

“Were they trying to poison us?”

“Worse. It was blood wine. They were using it to make it easier to enthrall us.”

Hugo reared back and titled his head. A perplexed smirk on his face. “What do you mean blood wine? What do you mean enthrall?”

The ornate, diamond shape doorknob jiggled, filling the hallway with the sounds of brass against brass. Alice and Hugo snapped their focus to the origin of the sound. Alice flicked her right hand, producing a flaming purple ball of arcane energy.

“They can’t get through, right?”

“Still have your key?”

“Yep.”

“Then they’re not getting through.”

The doorknob stopped jostling. Scratching, like the sound of fingernails against wood, came from the door as someone traced the wood frame on the other side of the door. Alice gingerly approached the door. Her heart pounded. She gulped.

Max came to her aid by barking at the would-be intruders. The scratching stopped. Max growled at the door, not fully satisfied they were gone.

Alice moved her free hand to the black curtain over the window of the door. She sought conformation from Hugo before progressing. His face was pale, eyebrows furled, and he was clearly holding his breath. However, he clenched his fist and stood ready to strike. He nodded. She pulled the curtain back to reveal the would-be intruder.

No one was there.

Alice moved closer to get a full view of the porch. No sign of Sylvia, Sebastian, or anyone else. Alice put the curtain back and dissipated her arcane flame. She turned back to Hugo.

“They didn’t have us over for dinner to be neighborly,” Alice said. “We were going to be their dessert.”

Hugo shook his head in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re vampires.”