I ignore the goosebumps rising on my arms as I hike up their cobblestone driveway and approach the drawbridge. I ignore the strange sensation that the air is cooler the closer I get to the castle. I am on a mission. I finally reach the large arched wooden double doors flanked by torches on either side—are those real torches?—and reach for the iron door knocker. I freeze and cautiously look around, ready to duck. I could’ve sworn I heard flapping wings nearby.
Nothing. Strange.
I turn back and knock twice, eager to meet my neighbor for the very first—and hopefully not last—time. I just know he’s got some pearls of wisdom to share. How could he not with such an award-winning successful winery?
CHAPTER FOUR
Boz
After sampling some of our new wines, I slide into my creaky wooden casket, ready to coffin down for the day. I am beat. There is much to learn about this new world that I have woken in. The changes to the winery production alone took me all night to comprehend. Machines now perform the tasks of twenty men, separating fruit from unwanted debris. Enormous steel vats now sit where there were once open wooden mash pits to crush the grapes and initiate fermentation. Neli says humans no longer wish to have “toe jam” with their wine.
Blasphemy! Where do they think the true flavor comes from? Peasants have very flavorful feet.
However, I tasted every batch in production and several barrels in the cellar. I must admit that while our new wines lack notes of blue cheese and earth, they are quite good.
I remove my evening wear. I had been wearing a pair of Neli’s black “sweat pants” (that were very tight and hardly reached my calves) and a top hat and black cape Neli scrounged up from a bag of All Hallows’ Eve garments from her closet. I am pleased that my favorite religious holiday is still observed in these modern times. In any case, my own clothing has long disintegrated, and Neli has promised to bring me an additional outfit for tonight from something called a “thrift store,” as she claims it is the only place to find ruffled shirts and clothing that suits my taste on such short notice. She also mentioned procuring some additional outfits “on line.” I believe she means to steal them from a neighbor’s clothing line. I wonder what sort of leather pants are washed and dried in such a way.
Now, appropriately naked, I lie down flat on my back, and a splinter pokes me right in my backside. Ouch! I must have Neli procure a new coffin immediately. This thing is about to fall apart. Yet, I almost do not care. I am simply that exhausted from my evening of learning. Oh, and hunting.
Neli warned me not to venture out alone—too many things have changed, she said—but I am the Great Prince Bozhidar. I fear nothing and no one. Well, except those automobiles. Dear gods of the night, they travel almost as fast as I do! Almost. Which is why I am still with my head. I had been strolling near town, taking in some of the large, oddly rectangular buildings, when one of these vehicles nearly ran me over. Thank the gods for my fast reflexes.
I then found a tavern where the female patrons dressed in what appeared to be undergarments—trousers with the legs missing and tops that exposed everything but the bosom. So indecent! Especially because they claimed not to be whores.
I press my hand to my cheek. That blonde woman hit hard. But how was I to know she was not for sale? She also made fun of my “funky getup”—whatever that means. Hungry and weak, I had no choice but to wait around back and grab the first person who walked by: an older woman with a very bad flavor. I loathe dining on grandmothers. Or any sort of woman who is not a virgin.
I wince and flick my tongue over my upper lip. So bitter. If it were not for that, I would have drained her dead. Instead, I used the age-old trick to wipe her mind of any memory of me, and sent her on her way. Tonight, I shall hunt again and find something sweet and tender to fill my belly.
My mind quickly wanders to that woman I spotted walking outside moments ago. Her long brown hair was loose and wild, and her sun-kissed skin was concealed by a long dress meant to tease a gentleman’s imagination—sexy little vixen!—but even through the glass, with her at a distance, I could smell the virginal blood pulsing beneath her skin. So sweet.
I will ask Neli about her when I wake tonight. To be sure, I have many questions about this new world, including how a vampire conceals himself, or more accurately stated, how he conceals his kills. Neli was very clear that in this day and age, my kind is nothing more than a myth. The villagers do not offer slaves or virgins or any of the perks I once enjoyed. Vampires have receded into the shadows, and nothing feels familiar except the constant ache in my belly. A vampire’s hunger is never quelled.
My eyes start to close as the sun rises over the horizon.
Gong! Gong!
My eyes pop open. Someone is at the front door. I am sure Neli will get it. I cross my arms over my chest, which is now back to its gloriously muscular shape along with the rest of me. The silver speckles have returned to my dark eyes too. Even my long black hair has regained its lustrous shine. I am once again the grand stallion of the night, worshiped by every female who lays eyes on—
Gong! Gong!
Dammit. What does a prince of the night have to do around here to get his beauty rest? I push on the lid of my wobbly coffin. “Cornelia!”
Silence answers me. Where is that girl? She has forgotten her place. I am her master, never to be disobeyed or displeased.
The door gongs for a third time. That does it. Someone must want to be my bedtime snack.
I hop from my coffin, zip up the stairs, and go to the front door, giving it a hard yank to yell at whatever merchant is peddling their wares at such an ungodly hour. “What the devil do you…” My voice trails off.
Standing before me is the woman I saw through my window earlier. Her potent, sweet floral scent slams into me like a mallet to the face. It is painfully delicious.
I step back and pinch my nose. Otherwise, I will have to pull her inside and devour her—not the wisest decision when I am now a stranger in a strange land. Killing so close to home in such unfamiliar surroundings may prove problematic, if I am to heed Neli’s warnings.
The young beauty with her silky dark hair and wide inquisitive eyes looks up at my face. Her gaze then begins the journey south until she realizes I am in my nightclothes. “Oh! Oh, God! You’re naked!”
“Yes. As you can see,” I say, still holding my nose, “I am a man, and real men do not wear garments to bed. Now what may I do for you?”
Cheeks red, she closes her eyes and holds out an odd-looking container of pastries. “I, uh…uh…just came by to introduce myself. I’m your neighbor from across the road, Stella Baker. I brought homemade cupcakes.”
A baker at a vineyard? “I do not eat sugar, but I thank you all the same.” Suddenly, I realize two things. One, pinching my nose is completely useless. Her sweet, virginal scent is still entering my lungs and calling to me. And second, I am nude, which is normally no concern of mine—I am a man and modesty is for women—but for some odd reason my shaft is beginning to thicken.
Must be due to my five-century slumber. I have not made love to a woman in a very, very long time. Otherwise, I am always in complete control of my body, including my generous manhood.
“Very nice to make your acquaintance, but I am a busy man who needs a nap. Good day.” I slam the door in her face and glance down at my firmly standing erection.