Page 7 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter seven

Valroy

Minnesota Ark Prime—A short while later

M y head spins and I lower myself to the bench, trying to wrap my mind around everything I’ve learned in the past two hours.

Evelina’s a dainty, delicate morsel. Yet she can skin a bison that’s nine times her weight and not faint when she cuts herself to the bone. She’s smart and strong. Like the sort of woman…

No. I can’t go there.

“May I ask you a question?”

She glances over, balancing the carcass with one hand. “Sure.”

“How were you made, uh…” I look away. I can’t ask such an invasive question and look in her eyes. “How were you made into a vampire?”

“Ah. Of all the questions I get asked, that’s at the top of the list. I wondered when you’d get around to it.” She’s silent a moment. “Well, I was a Hollywood starlet—”

“You were in the movies?” My eyes widen and my jaw drops. “You’re beautiful enough to be an actress.”

“Aren’t you sweet.”

“Seriously. You’re gorgeous. And I love pre-Collapse motion pictures. I’ve seen every DVD in the forbidden library.”

Would she be willing to discuss them with me? None of the domina would. I enjoy the old movies, but there’s so much I don’t understand. Context is everything.

She cuts me a quick look. “You’re a film lover?”

“Yes. What movies were you in?”

“Nothing after 1942.”

A chill runs down my spine. I still can’t believe she’s that old.

She waves me off, knife still in her hand. “Even if you saw one of mine, it’s not likely you would’ve noticed me. I had a few small parts before… Ah geez. My maker was my Hollywood agent, a deal maker. I agreed to let him turn me, and he made certain promises that he never kept.”

Sadness invades her tone, and I suspect there’s more to the story. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it turned out okay for me. Pre-Collapse, I had a good career as a rock singer. But with the Collapse, there’s not much use for a traveling singer.”

I watch her in silence. In New Rome, a servant would perform this work. Yet seeing her powerfully handle the bison, the way she wields a knife, her skill at preparing the meat—all of it sends a warm ripple of admiration through me.

When she separates the last of the hide from the meat, she dumps the skin into a vat and closes the lid, then hangs the carcass on hooks and splits it in two. Unhitching those hooks from the ceiling, she carries each one in separate hands and hangs them in a windowless room.

A sink is just outside the entrance, and she washes the blood and fur from her hands, then closes the door and taps a screen mounted on the external wall. “This’ll lower the temperature gradually to just above freezing, and the meat remains hanging for fourteen days of dry aging. So you gotta wait two weeks for your first steak.”

“Okay,” I say, debating my next words. “You know, I’m sorry you can’t perform your music anymore. I’d be happy to listen if you want to sing for me.”

She frowns a little, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking.

“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do…” She must see the disappointment in my face, because she sighs. “Maybe some other time. For now, though, there’s a movie collection back at my place. You can watch what’s there.”

“Do you have the movies you were in?”

“Yeah, why?”

“May I see them?”

She purses her lips. “We’ll see. Right now, you’ve got work to do. Follow me.”

She leads me to a closet and hands me a bucket, a mop, and a bottle of liquid cleaner. “You mop the floor and change the sterilizing fluid while I put the horses away and clean the wagon. Read the instructions carefully.”

She’s just butchered a giant beast and believes I am only good for mopping a floor. The confidence I gained from shooting the bison dissipates. I wave my hand at the filthy tile floor. “I’m a dominus, not a servant.”

She laughs. “And I was an actress and singer, but now I’m a zookeeper. Things change, and we change with them. No one’s buying and selling real estate here. No one’s paying for concerts. It’s just you and me in this ark.” She tilts her head. “This is the work. No shame in it.”

I sigh, unconvinced, but pick up the mop.

She pauses, tapping a finger against her lips. “The dominus title still puzzles me. Why do you speak English if y’all use a Latin title? Why not Lord Valroy?”

“I thought you received regular reports on us.”

“The Lux don’t go into every little detail. Come on. Tell me.”

I exhale and shake my head. “According to my father, the first emperor created our society based on the Roman Empire and Greco-Roman culture. Dominus is the highest non-military rank, other than the emperor himself.”

“What, did this dude have a history fixation? Did he cosplay a Roman gladiator pre-Collapse?”

“Do not make fun of Ernie Klienet the First.” My glare would make any New Rome citizen cower, but she just smirks at me.

“Wait, wait…” She tilts her chin down, looking toward the floor. “Klienet, as in the dude who would dress up and dance like a leprechaun in television commercials to advertise his Pot of Gold ’n Diamonds jewelry stores?”

I understand little of what she says, but it sounds disrespectful. “Do not make fun of our deceased emperor.”

Not that I hold out any respect for his son and successor, Klienet the Second, after the way he treated this loyal subject.

“Oh, take my word for it.” She laughs. “He’s already disgraced himself. How on God’s green earth did he become New Rome’s chosen autocrat?”

“He owned the most valuable property when the dome fell. He turned his shopping mall into his palace. When the owners of the other stores were cut off from our dome, he claimed the entire building and all contents within. He appointed those who supported him to positions as high-ranking domini and senators.”

“Let me guess. Your senate has no power to overrule the emperor?”

“Why would they? The emperor is our leader.” Although now I wish they could. But spouting the party line is a hard habit to surrender.

She snorts. “Yeah, right. I’m glad I live out here and not in there. At least the Lux aren’t dictators.”

“He is not a dictator, he is an emperor .”

She blinks at me, then laughs. “Don’t see the difference, but sure, whatever you say.” She hands me the bottle of cleaning liquid. “Don’t forget to read the instructions.”

“I can clean a floor without instructions.”

“Not the right way, you can’t. Read the instructions, Lord Stubborn.” She turns away. “Now get busy if you want to earn the best meat you’ll ever taste.”

I grunt at her retreating back, but read the instructions on how much of the liquid to mix with water, and get to work scrubbing with the mop. I’ll prove to her I’m not worthless in this new world.

The night after our hunting expedition, she goes back to ignoring me, and it almost drives me crazy.

I run from hopeful to sad, furious to lonely, watchful to resigned, because spending a night learning about her has unsettled me. With all my heart, I still want to return to New Rome for Tina, but I also have a new desire alongside that one. I want more of Evelina—more time together, time to discover who she is, time to let her know me.

On the fourth night after our hunting trip, I convince her to show me one of her films. At first, she only stays long enough to show me how to retrieve the movie from her file server. But each night I ask her more questions about which film to watch next, to keep her with me a little longer.

A few nights later, I convince her to stay and watch an entire film with me. But after the movie, I make a crucial mistake.

“Evelina, I was wondering. What methods did…vampires try in the past to get inside New Rome? The methods that didn’t work?”

She jumps to her feet. “I gotta scoot.”

“Wait—”

She moves so fast, the hallway door to the garage slams shut before I can say anything else.

That leaves me with only one choice. I’m on my own if I’m going to rescue Tina. Resting on the couch, I contemplate ways to get back to New Rome. Recalling the horses that pulled the wagon, an idea forms. But I don’t know which dome they live in—yet.

More nights go by, and my worry over Tina makes it hard to focus on the tasks Evelina assigns me. While she spends a few nights training me on new skills, I’m running out of excuses to convince her to stay longer. But on the night marking three weeks since she rescued me, I don’t have to come up with any excuses.

The bison steaks have aged sufficiently, and tonight I get to try one. The sliding doors open, and with Beast One and Beast Two at her side, she emerges carrying a pitcher of a deep amber liquid with a layer of foam at the top. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

I remove the rib-eye cut from the refrigerator, the one we butchered last night, and place it on the counter. “A surprise?”

“Beer. Well, technically a medium ale. I cooked up a batch to trade shortly before I rescued you, and it’s been fermenting. Figured you might enjoy a taste with your steak.”

“Indeed I would. I’ve seen beer in the movies.”

She pours me a tall glass and I try a sip, rolling the effervescent liquid around my tongue. Unlike the tongue-curling vodka of New Rome, this drink is smooth and tasty. It’s the first time I’ve ever drunk beer, so I don’t have a word for the flavor. “Grains?”

“Malted barley and hops, mostly. Some yeast. Is it any good?”

I take another deep swallow. “Very good.”

“Then let’s get that steak grilled. I think they’ll go together well.”

She wasn’t wrong about the taste of the bison steak. The meat was worth waiting for and better than anything I’ve ever eaten. I’m feeling very mellow from the beer, though not drunk. I think about picking the longest movie she has again, to justify extra time with her.

She whisks away my plate and dumps it in the sink with a sigh. “Different idea tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Instead of a movie…wanna come with?”

“Scavenging?” I can’t suppress the spark of hope rising in my throat. “Would we pass near New Rome?”

“No, silly. I’m going to the agricultural dome.”

I exhale my disappointment. “You aren’t scavenging tonight?”

“Nah. It’s time you get some real daily jobs.”

“I did the chickens, didn’t I?” Last week, Evelina showed me how to kill, pluck, clean, butcher, and freeze a chicken.

“That’s just one job, and it’s food for you. Gotta keep you busy. Can’t have you moping around all the time.”

My heart leaps. So she has noticed how worried I am about Tina.

“I’m going to show you the other domes. I think it’s time you take over more zookeeper duties.”

A different longing fills my chest. Does this mean an entire night with her rather than a few hours?

She lets out a loud whistle, and the two beasts lope after us.

I grab my jacket and rush to follow her through the series of tunnels. This time she takes me down a tunnel to the right, and when I step out of it, I’m looking at a landscape I’ve only seen in paintings.

“All the fields are fallow right now.” She leads me to a building and grabs a basket of carrots. “We grow vegetables, fruits, and grains here. What I can’t use for the farm animals gets sent to one of the mixed domes.”

I stare at the basket she carries. Those vegetables would cost at least thirty denarii in New Rome.

“Want one?” she asks.

Such unimaginable wealth. “Seriously? Yes, please.”

“You can wash it off over there.” She points at an outdoor sink by a work shed.

I do, and when I crunch into the orange root, the snap is unlike anything I’ve bitten into before and the sweetness tickles my tongue. “This is incredible.”

She gives me a small smile. “Come on.”

The next dome we enter houses domesticated animals somewhat similar to the ones New Rome raises. The air is chilly, but there’s less snow here. In the distance, a herd of cattle grazes. Nearby is a corral of horses.

So this is where the horses live.

Walking through the divided corral isn’t easy. A bunch of bouncy creatures she calls goats try to devour my clothing and lunge to steal the piece of carrot I haven’t finished. Then I have to dodge the chickens with ornate head and leg feathers. Not at all like the plain Janes we have or the ones I dealt with last week.

She gestures at tiny mechanical things on rollers. “Automated machines feed the animals.”

“Oh. I see.” She showed me similar ones when I learned how to butcher a chicken. We have nothing like them in New Rome.

“While machines perform much of the work”—she kicks out her boot as a wheeled thing scoots by—“including these little robots, there is some work that needs doing by me, in addition to culling the elk and bison herds. I could use an extra set of hands here.”

I follow her to a split-rail horse corral, made of wood…or that PFP stuff she mentioned when I asked about the wagon.

She rushes ahead of me and starts handing out carrots to each of the horses gathered along the fence line except for one, who is rolling on the ground. “Daisy, what’s-a matter, girl?”

Evelina drops the basket, opens the gate, and rushes inside. Kneeling, she strokes the mare’s neck and clicks her tongue, saying to no one, “I need vet service for Minnesota Prime. Horse in distress.” She pauses, staring at the horse, and repeats herself. “Dammit. The comm isn’t working.”

“Comm?”

She points at the area behind her jaw. “New tech. Virtual phones embedded under the skin. Look, I don’t got time to explain. The antenna probably blew down in the storm outside. I’ve gotta go put it back up.”

My parents told stories about cell phones not needing wires, but those devices died before I was born. “Wait.” I grip her arm. “Where’re your vet supplies? I can help.”

“What? What do you know about horses?”

“A thing or two. Just where are your supplies?”

She glances at the exit and back at Daisy, uncertainty in her eyes, but then, with a huff, shows me.

I grab a stethoscope. “Help me get her to her feet before you leave. She’ll trust you.”

Between the two of us, we coax the mare until she stands. The horse shakes her head and gives me the evil eye, while I stroke the side of her neck. “Nothing bad is going to happen, girl.”

Evelina whooshes toward the tunnel. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

I place the stethoscope and listen for belly sounds, then move the chest piece near Daisy’s intestines. Not much in the way of gut sounds, either. “Easy, girl. I’m going to check your gums.”

She resists at first. I grab a halter from the nearby rack and slide it over her nose, then buckle the crown piece. Tying the lead to the wooden rail to keep her in place, I pull back her lips and check her gums. Pale and tacky. Signs of dehydration.

Most likely colic.

I have no clue how long Evelina will take to fix the antenna, and I can’t wait for her. Colic ranges from mild to deadly—and if it’s something worse than colic, Daisy will need treatment fast. I stride over to the medical equipment and find what I need.

Gloved up, I pat her rump. “All right, girl. Help is here.”