YEAR OF THE VAMPIRE 22

Chapter 22

Music from: Revenge of the Gods

Within moments they were at Brylinden Hall. Ivy didn't recall actually walking there, but there she was, standing beside Dred in the ballroom, looking up at the chandelier. It wasn't the hall as she remembered it.

The grand house was alive with music. The notes seemed to ride on the air, down the staircase, flow into every room. It was a simple melody, of violin and piano, from the second floor music room, Ivy guessed. The hall itself seemed different, the wood panels grainier, the candelabras flickering brighter, the fire in the hearth redder. Ivy stood still, feeling something in the air she couldn't place.

"You have to see what Evandis has done," Dred said.

She nearly forgot he was still there as she tried to determine what else was different about the Hall. Before she could ask, Scarlet came out from the far doorway. She was in a beaded purple dress, its flapper-length skirt dropping just to her knees as swags of black and silver beaded necklaces sung at her chest. She smiled at Ivy, meeting her with a gushing laugh.

"Finally, Ivy. I so want to see this dress you've created." In her other hand was a fluted glass of deep red fluid, a color that matched her lips. "You will show us? Tomorrow?"

"Well, yes, I can." Ivy gripped her book bag, feeling overwhelmed as the music added a heavier bass to the undertones, seeming to reset her heart's rhythm. "It's just my work. Mostly hand-sewn."

"I'm sure it's lovely." Scarlet turned as another woman entered the room from behind the staircase. "Have you met my sister, Berella?"

Before Ivy could answer or see much of the woman, a door shut in the kitchen.

"I guess she's still pouting." Scarlet laughed, one shoulder shrugging dismissively. "Someone tissued her motorcycle last night."

"Oh, Devil's Night." Ivy heard a loud cursing come from the back of the house, a woman's voice screeching what sounded like curses in three languages.

A door behind her closed and Ivy turned to see who, but instead saw only the fifteen-light floor candelabra across the room, every wick lit.

"Just Rimbladt," Scarlet said.

"Come on," Dred said. "I'll show you what Evandis has done."

"Oh, wait until tomorrow," Scarlet said to him.

Ivy looked from him to the woman.

Dred took her hand and pulled her to the staircase. "Won't take long, Ivy. You gotta see this."

She followed, taking the steps clumsily as he hurried. "What? Evandis' work?"

"Yeah, that and more."

Ivy tried to keep up, then barely made the turn as he took them down the hallway where the music grew louder. She yanked her hand free, slowing.

He stopped and turned to her. "What's wrong?"

"Just . . . where are we going, Dred?"

He spread one arm to his side, shrugging. "To see Evandis' creation."

"Oh, the replacement sculpture."

"Yes, you haven't seen it, right?"

"No. I mean, I haven't."

They continued on, the hallway warm from candle-lit wall sconces flickering to either side. They had just reached the open doorway where Ivy knew Evandis sculpted, than he stepped out. He was haggard, his mild blue shirt untucked, its frilled neck unbuttoned and drooping untied, his black pants dusted with marble dust. He looked from Dred to Ivy, shock clearly in his face.

"It's not ready yet," he said, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand still clutching the hammer. "I need another day."

"Just a peek," Dred said as the music stopped.

Ivy tried to see past them both, but could only make out the base of the block of marble. Evandis moved to block her view.

"I must insist on waiting," he said, an almost pleading in his tone. He pulled the watch chain from his pants pocket and checked it, nodded, and stuck it back in the pocket. "Ivy will understand," he said, looking to her entreatingly. "Won't you, dear creature?"

No one had ever called her a creature before. "Uh, well, if you don't—"

"I think the cello is better, so we try that," came Mandrake's voice from down the hall.

Ivy turned to look behind her, but the door to the music room was closed. Male voices rose, but she couldn't understand much of it; the argument was now in another language, something rougher, something coarse in content, it seemed to her.

"Your pardon," Evandis said.

Ivy turned back to find only Dred standing there, who was glaring at the closed door.

"You believe this guy?" he said. "All week talking about wanting you to see this thing and now he clams up."

"Maybe another time then." Ivy backed a few steps. "I should get home, Dred."

"I'll walk you."

She had just got to the music room door when the music began again. This time it was the cello and piano with a violin, the same tune as before, but now with a mournful tone. She stopped, listening. The candles in the hallway cut low as she paused. She listened, finding something soul-stirring in the harmony of stings and keys.

"You like it?" Dred asked quietly, close behind her.

She nodded, smiling just a little. "It's very nice."

The violin dominated the chords, seeming to draw Ivy nearer to the door, but she didn't move. Dred's hand slipped around her shoulder, sliding slowly down her right arm.

"It suits you," he said close to her left ear, just below temple.

She nodded, feeling strangely immobile, waiting breathlessly for the next turn of the song, the next draw of violin and strum of harp. Her eyes closed to the low light of the hallway, hearing her heart pound in beat to the music.

"Keep it," he said barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes closing firmly as his other hand circled her waist. When his fingers pressed to her jacket zipper, her eyes flung open.

"Dred," Vohn snapped.