Room & Board

Part 17

Lachlan Barrett. Your brain swirls, trying to place the name with some snippet from the journal or some other odd place you've heard the name before. It feels strangely familiar but, at the same time, unfamiliar.

As you're thinking, Lachlan takes a step toward your group. Immediately, Ewan tenses, growling so low in his chest that you can feel the vibrations in your stomach. Simultaneously, Tabaeus hisses from behind you, quiet and soft and sharp. Sandwiched between your companions, you hardly feel threatened, but the predatory air - plus Ewan and Tabaeus's reaction - piques concern in your gut.

"Please, try not to kick up too much of a fuss," Lachlan chuckles, though he does not take another step closer. He inclines his head to Tabaeus and Ewan, flashing them a look over the edges of his sunglasses with a pointy-toothed smile. "We are in a library."

The meaning was clear. You look around at the other patrons of the library: children and teenagers and people just minding their own business. People that are likely unaware of the two vampires lurking in their midst. Glancing back at Tabaeus, noting their stricken look, says enough.

A sudden thought crests your mind, overcoming the shock of the moment. Given this man had just lightly threatened a whole library, was it too hard to imagine he'd kill a town? Or a doctor?

It was a shot in the complete dark, but you had to ask. Tabaeus admitted to blacking out the name, so perhaps Lachlan would fall for your question. "By chance are you the same Lord Barrett who worked with Dr. Kieran Bennett in the 1880s?"

"Ah, Kieran! Yes. That is a blast from the past, as the young ones say." Something in Lachlan eyes glow, but not in a pleasant way. It reminds you of the iridescent shine of a predator's gaze. In a theatrical way, as if he were playing for the nosebleed seats, Lachlan rubs at his chin in a thoughtful way and leans toward you. He ignores Ewan's warning growl. "I did know my pet showed you to one of the vaults, but to think they gave you that information. That is such a surprise."

"I am not your pet," hisses Tabaeus, low and soft. As if they were not entirely certain they wanted to be heard.

"Are you not? Let us think about this," purrs Lachlan, his gaze shifting to Tabaeus. His voice takes on an irritating singsong quality as he counts off on his fingers, "You are pampered and cared for entirely. You need not hunt nor stalk the nights, need not risk being caught by a hunter. You are beloved among covens all over the world and gifts of clothes and food are showered upon you."

The description doesn't overly surprise you. And the longer Lachlan speaks, the more Tabaeus bristles behind you. Glancing back to your vampire, you press a hand to their arm, but it does nothing to ease their upset. Their red eyes remain pinned to Lachlan, afraid to let the other creature out of their sight.

"In return, all you must do is what you were created for," chuckles Lachlan, a vile gentleness to his voice that sets your teeth on edge. Underneath his words, there's an implication you can't quite put a name to.

As your gaze bounces back to Lachlan, Tabaeus spits out, "And what was I created for?"

The other vampire takes another step forward, ignoring Ewan's bristling snarl and how Tabaeus flinches behind you. Lachlan's arms spread wide, as if for an embrace, as he smiles like a television evangelist. "For memories."

Your brain sputters for a second, before a slew of awful imagery comes to mind. Bacchanal and violent and not all to the consent of Tabaeus. Weren't those always a trope in vampire media? They would drink and have sex and be cruel? Something about enjoying the world in excess while being undead. Or perhaps trying to feel something in their dead nerves?