Victor Gischler - Vampire A Go-Go

Edgar smacked his lips and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “This is a great day to welcome you into the Society, Edward Kelley. Now let us brand you to seal the deal and show your loyalty.”

One of Kelley’s eyebrows went up. “What?”

“I don’t have the materials for a proper tattoo, but a brand is perfectly acceptable. Some of the younger men actually see it as a right of manhood, so you’ll be able to brag about it to the ladies.”

“I don’t want a brand.”

“Well, as I’ve told you, I don’t have the ink for a tattoo. It’ll have to be a brand. Don’t worry-it only really hurts for a second.”

Kelley stood, knees watery, pushed away from the table. “Uh… I think I’m going to go now.”

“You’re a member of the Society, Kelley.” Edgar latched onto Kelley’s arm with a meaty hand. “You’ve got to show it.”

“No!”

Kelley tried to twist away, but Edgar pulled him across the table and turned him over. He pulled down Kelley’s pants.

“What are you doing?” Kelley squirmed, but the big man held him easily.

Edgar reached for an iron that had apparently been in the fire the whole time. He brought out the branding iron, the square and compass symbol with the pentagram in the center glowing white hot. Kelley glanced over his shoulder, eyes shooting wide.

“No, wait,” Kelley said. “Don’t! Let’s talk about-”

Edgar pressed the iron hard into Kelley’s ass cheek. It sizzled and hissed. Kelley screamed. The smell of scorched hair and flesh. Edgar pulled the iron away, tossed it back into the fire.

“There,” said the big man. “You’re one of us now officially.”

Kelley lay facedown on the table and groaned. “You son of a bitch.” His ass throbbed fire.

“Now don’t be that way,” Edgar said. “We’re brothers in the Society now.”

“Sweet merciful God, that hurts. Why did you have to do that?”

“We prepared the branding iron ahead of time,” Edgar admitted. “There is a spell binding you to the will of the Society. You cannot act against us now, and you will seek to keep our best interest at heart.”

“That’s some good crazy talk, but right now my ass is on fire. Hell and damnation.” Kelley reached for the bottle of brandy, drained the last drop.

“I have a salve,” Edgar said. “It’ll soothe you somewhat and prevent infection.”

A second later, Kelley felt Edgar smear something cool and greasy over his new brand. The hot sting subsided slightly. Kelley sighed. He slid off the table, pulled up his pants, not able to look Edgar in the eye.

“You should get back to the castle now,” Edgar said. “We’ll be in contact.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Kelley didn’t need to be told twice.

He left the shack, limped along the narrow game trail back toward the castle, feeling vaguely ashamed.

Kelley went up to his room in the White Tower and flopped face-first onto the bed. The cool sheets soothed him. He let his eyes close. Yes, if sweet sleep would come to him, he could forget all about dark tunnels and secret societies and the deep burning throb in his backside. Sleep, Edward Kelley. Sleep and dream of plump white serving wenches .

“Oh, there you are, Edward,” came Dee’s voice from the doorway. “Come help me with something. There’s a good fellow.”

Kelley’s eyes popped open. Bastard .

He pushed himself up from the bed, groaned. He followed Dr. Dee downstairs and out of the tower, to where a wagon waited in the lane. It was hitched to a tired-looking gray horse with drooping ears. Dee stood next to a stack of chests and trunks and other packages.

“Get on the other end of this, will you, Edward?” Dee bent, took one end of a long chest.

Kelley helped him slide it into the back of the wagon. He helped load the trunks and other items until the tiny wagon was overflowing. The effort made Kelley break out in a cold, slick sweat. Any good feeling he’d had from the brandy had faded. All he wanted to do was go back into the tower and flop into bed again.

“Thank you.” Dee was panting too. “I had a young lad from the stables helping me, but the little scamp has run off.”

“Listen, I’m not feeling all that well,” Kelley said. “So if we’re finished loading all of your worldly possessions, I’d like to get back to bed and-” Kelley blinked at the wagon as if seeing it for the first time. “Where are you going?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m leaving. Back to England.”

“You sure as hell did not tell me.”

Dee wrung his hands, had trouble looking Kelley in the face. “Well, yes. I’ve… been recalled by the Queen… uh… yes. Some sort of trouble at court that… uh… requires my expertise.”

“Oh, pig shit, Dee!” Kelley suddenly remembered Edgar saying he’d foreseen Dee’s departure. “What’s happened?”

Dee’s eyes darted nervously up and down the quiet lane. “Happened? Whatever are you talking about?”

“Damn you, don’t act stupid. Is it Rudolph? Has he done something insane?”

“Fool,” hissed Dee. He stepped right up next to Kelley and whispered, “Do you want to put us on the chopping block? Keep your voice down.”

“Talk to me, Dee.”

“Okay,” whispered Dee. “Okay, fine. Listen. There are strange things happening. Trust me, you don’t want to be involved. If I were you, I’d pack and leave tonight.”

“What strange things? Tell me.”

Dee sighed, looked suddenly so weary. “Edward, I can’t begin to explain. The complexities of-”

“Does Rudolph want to live forever?”

Dee froze, then slowly lifted his chin and looked Kelley square in the eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

Dee cursed, took Kelley by the elbow, and leaned in to whisper even more quietly into Kelley’s ear. “The astrologers returned from their trip to the north. There were tales, villagers with wild stories about strange lights and the sky splitting open and the Heavens crumbling to earth. They found a village with a smoking crater in the center, every villager dead, their skin melted from their bodies.”

Dee crossed himself, and Kelley resisted the urge to do the same.

“They brought something back in a large, iron box,” Dee said. “They won’t let anyone near it. I don’t want to go near it. One of the astrologers told me that the three men who handled the object and loaded it into the iron box have taken violently ill. They are not expected to last through the night. All three are delusional and feverish.”

Dear God . This time Kelley did cross himself.

Dee climbed onto the wagon and took the reins. “I’m getting the hell out of here. I’d do the same if I were you, Edward. Farewell.” Dee flicked the reins, and the nag clopped down the lane.

Kelley raised a wan hand and waved, but Dee didn’t look back. Kelley stood watching until the wagon turned a corner, the clip-clops fading away.

He stood long seconds in the empty lane. It had become eerily quiet-no sounds of workmen from the courtyard, no chatter from castle servants. He looked up. Even the wind had died. The flags and banners atop the castle walls hung limp. It was as if the entire world held its breath, waiting to see what doom would fall on top of Kelley’s head.

To hell with this .

Kelley darted for the tower, took the stairs two at a time until he reached his living quarters. He grabbed his cloth bag, tossed in his clothes, a few books. He had a small bag of coins and hoped it would be enough to get him as far as a seaport. He should have lived more frugally these last months. He’d been too free with drink and women. No matter. If he could get to a port, he could work his passage if money ran short.