An Interesting Party

An Interesting Party

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. It's not like I need the money. The invention of compound interest made sure of that, and my living expenses are technically non-existent. Nor do I wish to set the record straight about me and my kind. It's not like I care what the breathing population thinks of us, and I'm certainly not the hero of this story, even though it's about me. I suppose it's boredom. When you've been around as long as I have, it's important to have diversions.

I'm a vampire, of course. I thought that would be obvious, but as my friend William is fond of saying, "all mortals be fools", so I figured I should be plain.

Yes, I'm talking about that William, and because of me, he can be spoken of in the present tense. I'm the reason he's the Immortal Bard.

So, where to begin? One typically begins at the beginning, but for me the beginning was in Hungary in 1580, which is way too much time to cover in detail. I was twenty-four at the time and a soldier, part of the palace guard for Countess Bathory. She's the one who was said to have bathed in the blood of young women to stay young. She did, but not in the literal sense.

Suffice it to say she took a liking to me and turned me into what I am. Things went badly for her, and in 1614 she supposedly died in her sleep. Which is technically true, but the historians fail to mention the stake in her heart. I headed out before the vampire hunters came for me.

Yes, there are vampire hunters. Van Helsing is the most famous, but there are a few others, mostly annoying do-gooders who are supposedly "protecting Humanity" from the evil and rapacious undead. Totally absurd, of course, because we are part of the natural order. After all, every population needs a predator to keep it under control. Really, humans should be grateful. If it weren't for us, the homelessness crisis in America would be ten times worse.

I kicked around Europe for a couple centuries, mainly working as a mercenary when I needed a cover identity. The nice thing about Europe at that time was there was always a war going on somewhere, which meant a few extra dead bodies wouldn't be noticed.

Eventually Europe began to pale. There were fewer wars breaking out, meals were getting harder to come by, and the vampire hunters were getting more tenacious. Plus, after a thousand or so viewings even the Mona Lisa gets old. I decided I needed something new, in this case the New World, and I'd heard there was a nice little war starting up in America. In 1861 I had myself shipped over.

I landed in Boston in early August of that year. It was shortly after First Bull Run (although of course at the time I didn't know there would be a second), and the city was ripe with fear. I could smell it from within my box of earth as I was transported to the house I had purchased through an agent in England. No, his name wasn't Renfield.

The workers unloaded my crates in the basement as they'd been instructed, and as soon as they left, I got out and inspected my new home. It was a modest one-story house near the docks in a somewhat seedy section of town. It was the type of area where people minded their own business, and someone wandering around at night would hardly be remarked upon. The house itself was in decent repair, although in need of a paint job. The furnishings were sparse, but I didn't plan on doing much entertaining.

That evening, I went out for a stroll. I saw immediately that I was a bit too well dressed for the area. This was a working man's neighborhood, and in my European frock coat and top hat I didn't exactly blend. Luckily that problem was solved for me. As I was walking by the docks, three grubby men came out of an alley and surrounded me.

"Well, what do we have here?" said the largest. "Looks like we got ourselves a gen-u-ine gentleman."

I rolled my eyes. Three hundred years of confronting scum like this and the dialog never changes. They always gloat when they think they're in a position of power. You'd think they'd come right to the point with something like "Your money or your life", but no, it's always "What 'ave we got 'ere" in the back alleys of London or "Regardez ce que nous avons ici" in the slums of Paris. No wonder I'm writing this to kill the boredom.

"Let me assure you my dear sirs, I'm no more a gentleman than you are," I said in an accent I'm not going to attempt to reproduce. At the time, it was probably a mixture of Hungarian, German and British. It's changed since.

"Oh, we got ourselves a foreigner. Well foreigner, we got us a foreigner tax. So why don't you hand over your money, and maybe we let you walk away." They pulled out knives. I almost laughed. Wooden clubs might have been a bit of a problem, but metal knives?

"Very well," I said. "Let's get this over with."

I grabbed the wrists of the men to my right and left. They had barely registered what happened when I slammed their knives into each other's chests. The leader reacted with commendable quickness, managing to slash my upper arm. He looked vastly surprised when I smiled at him and then threw him up against the side of a warehouse.

"You appear to be about my size. Convenient for me, for you not so much." I sank my fangs into his throat. He stopped struggling. That's the thing about our bite, it tends to send our victims into a euphoric, almost orgasmic state. It's as good a way to go as any.

For us, feeding is a bit more complex. There can be a strong sexual thrill if it's someone we're attracted to, which is important since we can no longer have sex in the conventional human sense, but it's usually the equivalent of a human eating a hamburger.

After I finished, I stripped him and slashed his throat with his own knife to cover the bite marks. I didn't know if legends of vampires persisted in America, but why take chances? I tossed him into the ocean and quickly changed, giving a mental command to the vermin infesting his clothes to depart, and checking my reflection in a nearby shop window to make sure I looked properly disreputable.

Yes, we can see our reflections. Only silver backed mirrors won't show us, because silver was the blood price of Christ, which gave it the ability to repel evil. I stashed my old clothes behind a nearby rain barrel and headed off. There weren't many people wandering around, but I noticed a saloon that seemed busy. I wandered in to see what the local nightlife was like.

It was a typical dockside bar with some tables, a few poker games, and fortunately no mirrors. I bought a beer using my best approximation of an American accent and pretended to drink it while I looked around. That's right, I never drink...beer.

The clientele was the usual mix of sailors, dock workers and rough necks. The talk was loud, mainly about the war and how the Union had gotten its nose bloodied. There was a definite tang of fear in the air from people who had thought it would be over with one battle. Take it from me, that never happens.

I had just decided to move on when I sensed a presence - a very unexpected presence. It was another vampire. I looked across the room and saw Radu Tepes, younger brother of the now famous Vlad, better known as Dracula. At the time Vlad was a decent enough chap, although after the book came out he thought of himself as some sort of undead celebrity and became insufferably conceited. Radu was cut from a different cloth. He was known as Radu the Handsome, but a better appellation would have been Radu the Cruel. To put it politely, he liked to "play with his food".

He was sitting at a table, talking to another fellow who was also quite handsome, with a mustache and dark wavy hair. Curious, I drifted a little closer and focused my hearing so I could listen in without seeming to.

"It has to be done," said mustache. "With him gone, the Union will collapse."

"Really, what's the point?" Radu asked in his upper-class drawl, affecting an air of nonchalance. As usual, he was elegantly dressed in a dark red lounge jacket with matching waistcoat and white trousers, blending into his current environment about as well as a peacock in a pigsty. "You actually think the war will go on after what happened?"

"Oh, it will go on. Congress has already extended the enlistment of the 90 day wonders indefinitely, and soon there will be a draft. The North will do everything it can to keep the South in chains."

Had I still needed to breathe, I would have choked on my pretend beer at that bit of irony. While some might find this surprising, I've never been in favor of slavery. I know some vampires keep blood slaves as a steady food source, but where's the sport in that? Once again, boredom rears its ugly head.

"And you expect me to do what, waltz into the White House and kill the president?" That definitely caught my attention.

"Look, I know it won't be easy, but you've come recommended as someone who can handle difficult tasks, and my friends and I are willing to pay. Besides which, we have an opportunity... "

"Wait," Radu interrupted, raising his hand. He turned and looked directly at me. "Excuse me a moment, Booth. I've just spotted an old friend I really need to have a word with."

He stood and twitched his head towards the door. I deposited my drink on the bar and followed him out.

"Eavesdropping, Bela?" he said, once we were outside. "That is so beneath you. Also, your taste in fashion seems to have degraded rather terribly."

"Unlike you, I try to blend in. And did I hear you correctly? Are you seriously considering killing the President of this country?"

"Perhaps," he said, with a casual wave. "It might make an interesting challenge. A test of my abilities, as it were."

"Really? Exactly how do you plan to do it without violating the Strictures?"

There are few rules in vampire society, but the ones we have are vigorously enforced, and the most important rule is - we never give humans undeniable proof of our existence. The Strictures themselves prohibit me from going into detail, but if humans ever knew for a fact that we existed, there would be Hell to pay, in more ways than one. Incidentally, a story like the one I'm writing does not violate the Strictures, since anyone reading it would assume it was fiction.

"I think you can count on me to be subtle enough. I can do it without draining him, although the blood of so powerful a man would be quite intoxicating."

"What about bodyguards? What if you have to fight your way out? Leaving a trail of broken bodies is hardly subtle, and turning into a bat or smoke in front of witnesses is a bit of a giveaway, not to mention we are not supposed to interfere in human affairs to this degree. You would endanger us all."

"Well now accomplishing the task without being detected is part of the challenge, isn't it? Although you needn't worry. I'm not even certain I want the job. Getting from here to Washington is a bit of a logistical problem." He didn't fool me. I knew Radu well enough to see he'd already made up his mind. He was going to attempt it and damn the consequences.

"Well, good," I said, trying to sound relieved. "Because you do know this would be a really bad idea."

"Indeed. I suppose I'll go back in and break the bad news to Booth. Care to come along and have a listen?"

"No, I've had enough human company for one night. I'll leave you to it." We nodded to each other, and I sauntered down the street. Once I was sure he was back in the saloon, I crossed the street to the back of a general goods store and climbed to the roof. There was no point trying to follow Radu. He would sense me in a human heartbeat, but his friend Booth was another matter.

A few minutes later, Radu came out, adjusted his coat, and headed down the street. A couple rough looking men began to follow him from an alley he passed, so I figured he'd be eating well. Booth emerged sometime later, looked around like he had something to hide, and headed in the opposite direction. I got ahead of him by jumping across the roof tops, then climbed down and crossed the street towards him as he approached the next intersection. He kept going straight, and I turned to follow.

"So," I said as I got up beside him. "Do you think he'll be able to pull it off?" He stopped abruptly and took a couple steps back, his hand going into his vest pocket. Then he looked closer at my face.

"Wait, you're Victor's friend. The one he saw in the saloon."

"So he's calling himself Victor these days, is he? Yes, I am, and I'll repeat my question. Do you think he'll be able to pull it off?"

"Pull what off?" he asked, doing a masterful job of looking confused.

"Assassinate the president. What, did you think he didn't tell me?" I looked into Booth's eyes. No, vampires have no special power to hypnotize people, but we do have the ability to read into people's souls. I saw a strong sense of moral superiority, mixed with a healthy dose of vanity and a dash of self-preservation. He wasn't a fanatic, but it looked like he was headed in that direction.

"He..he told you?" Booth began to sputter. "But..but that's outrageous! This is a highly sensitive matter! He can't go around telling everyone he meets!"

"Clearly you don't know him as well as I do. He loves being the center of attention. It wouldn't surprise me if he took out an advertisement in the local newspaper."

Booth began to pace. "This won't do at all. Exposure would mean ruin for us all, and for myself the end of my career. I am of course willing to sacrifice for the Cause, but not unless I must."

"You do realize this war has only just begun. It's still a little early for desperate measures. Perhaps you can call him off."

"Not before tomorrow night. The tyrant will be making a speech at a fund-raising ball for the Massachusetts Soldier's Fund. That's when Victor will make his move."

"Wait, the president will be in Boston tomorrow?" Radu wouldn't even need to go to Washington. His target would be coming to him.

"Yes, he will be at Faneuil Hall tomorrow night," he said, then cocked his eye at me. "It's in all the papers. How did you not know?"

"I'm new in town. Just landed today, as a matter of fact. This ball sounds like an interesting event. I might just have to drop by."

"Oh, you won't be able to get in. It's invitation only. We were barely able to get one for Victor."

"It's a public building, so I don't need an invitation."

"Wait, what?" Booth looked confused again. I just nodded and headed off to retrieve my clothes. Yes, it would be quite an interesting event.

I stood near the entrance of Faneuil Hall, looking over the scene. Candlelight glinted off champaign glasses, the jeweled earrings and bracelets of the women, and the bald pates of the men. The room had balconies running down each side and across the front, supported by Greek style doric pillars with matching pillars going from the balconies to the ceiling. Compared to palaces in Europe it was fairly bland, although the facing wall did have one of the largest paintings I'd ever seen. It depicted a large group of well-dressed men in some kind of meeting. The carved inscription on the bottom of the frame read "Liberty and Union Now and Forever". Very inspiring, although at that time the Union Forever sentiment seemed somewhat uncertain.

The main floor had several rows of damask cloth covered tables facing the stage at the front of the room, where the head table was set up next to a podium, presumably from which Lincoln would be speaking. A large area had been left open in front of the door for people to mingle. A band in the right-hand balcony was playing a passable rendition of Mozart, who by the way, was just as big of a conceited twit as history makes him out to be, which is why he's not the Immortal Composer.

To my left I could see a line of people waiting to shake the President's hand, so I drifted over as I scanned for Radu. I could neither see nor sense him, which did not surprise me. He'd be fashionably late even to an assassination. While waiting, I took a look at the man I had decided to protect. I was not impressed.

To be sure he was a prepossessing figure, standing a good two inches taller than me, but his long ungainly limbs made it look like he'd been put together wrong. His cavernous face would never be called handsome. He greeted people graciously enough, but his high-pitched voice was incongruous in a man that tall and broad. I was aware some newspapers characterized him as somewhat feebleminded. As I stepped up to him, I looked into his eyes and expected that assessment to be confirmed. I was wrong.

A fierce intelligence blazed forth. I sensed an iron will, accompanied by a strong sense of justice. There was a deep kindness in him, but also a willingness to do whatever needed to be done to achieve his goals. This was a man to be reckoned with.

"Good evening sir, it's an honor to meet you," I said with, for once, complete honesty.

"Ah, a visitor to our shores," he said as he shook my hand with a surprisingly strong grip for a human. "You've picked a most interesting time to visit."

"It is that interest that brought me. I'm working as a correspondent for a Bavarian newspaper," I said, using the cover identity I'd devised. "Our readers would love to hear your reasons for conducting a war to end slavery."

"To be clear, although it is a major cause of the war, we are not fighting to end slavery. Much as I personally deplore slavery, our Constitution prohibits me from interfering with it in places where it already exists. We are fighting to preserve the Union our forefathers brought forth."

"Why? What is so important about your Union that it requires so much blood to preserve it?"

"It is the idea of it. Our Union is a shining beacon of liberty, based on the premise that all men are created equal, and should be able to live in freedom. That is why we fight."

"Does that equality include the slaves?" He hesitated a moment, then shook his head.

"At the present, no it does not. Perhaps in future generations that will change, but for now we need to concentrate on winning this war, so that there will be a Union for those future generations."

"I see. Thank you sir, that was most enlightening." He gave me a genial smile, then shook the hand of the next person in line as I moved off.

Let me take a moment here to explain my motivations. Some reading this might get the idea I'm some sort of crusader against slavery. Nothing could be further from the truth. What do I care if people are enslaved? They'll be dead soon enough anyway (from my perspective at least), so it hardly matters. Nor did I really care whether Lincoln lived or died, despite being impressed with him. Nor was I doing this to thwart Radu, although the thought of puncturing his massive ego did have a certain appeal. I was doing it to keep him from doing something stupid that would reveal our existence to the world. Also, going against another vampire does provide a certain spice. Once again, anything to relieve the boredom.
I drifted through the crowd, returning the occasional smile I received from various women when their men's backs were turned. I didn't need to speak to anybody, since at that time it wasn't considered polite to speak to someone until you were properly introduced. That was fine with me. I wasn't there to socialize.

I sensed a sudden shift in the crowd's attention and looked towards the door. It was Radu, of course, with a woman on each arm. At that time, showing up to a soiree with two women just Was Not Done, but naturally he cared more about making a grand entrance than the societal niceties. I worked my way through the crowd towards him as he paraded into the hall. The look he gave me showed not the least bit of surprise.

"Victor, old man," I said as I vigorously shook his hand. "What an unexpected pleasure to run into you here, of all places." The two women with him had the glassy eyed stare of blood slaves, and both had dresses with a high neckline. Not fashionable, but it did cover the bite marks.

"Bela, my old friend," he said, with a look in his eye that said I was anything but. "Somehow, this isn't entirely unexpected."

"Well, you know how much I love a party. Especially one that looks to be as interesting as this one will be."

"Interesting indeed. It should be even more interesting now that you're here."

"Oh, I think you can count on that." We stared at each other with the closed mouth smiles vampires always use. I noticed the people around us shifting away, clearly sensing the tension. Our tete-a-tete was broken by the major domo announcing that dinner was served.

I sat at the table directly behind Victor's, keeping an eye on him as we both nibbled at our food. Vampires can eat, but we can't digest, so we have to regurgitate it later, which is never a pleasant experience. Unsurprisingly, his two blood slaves were eating well, paying special attention to the rare beef.

"Excuse me sir," said the woman to my left, batting her eyelashes at me. It seems dinner conversation did not require an introduction. "But I heard your accent earlier. What country are you from, pray tell."

"Hungary originally, although I've been all over Europe."

"Oh, I would love to visit Europe. The Louve, Venice, the Sistine Chapel. I've heard it's absolutely magnificent. Have you seen it?"

"The Sistine Chapel? No, I've never seen it," I had certainly not visited it, as I had no desire to burst into flame. "I have been to the Louve many times, and it is indeed extraordinary."

"How fascinating. I'd just...," She prattled on, but I'd stopped listening. Something else had caught my attention: a chorus of multiple high-pitched squeaks, getting rapidly closer. Radu glanced back at me with a look of triumph in his eye as the windows were shattered by a massive swarm of bats hurtling into the room.

Pandemonium erupted. People screamed and tumbled out of chairs. Tables were overturned, sending fine china and utensils crashing to the ground. I saw Lincoln grab a plate and use it to swat bats away as he tried to usher his screaming wife out of the room. Radu leapt to his feet and started charging towards the head table, with me on his heels. He glanced back at me, then jumped into the air and changed to bat form, disappearing into the swarm. I cursed and kept running, trying to will the bats out of my way. I tried to spot...there! One bat was much larger than the others. It dove towards Lincoln as I leapt and grabbed its wing, sending both of us crashing over the table onto the floor.

I wrapped my arm around Radu to try to keep him from changing back, leapt to my feet and threw myself through one of the few remaining unbroken windows out into the street. The few people nearby scattered. Radu changed back just as we landed and we rolled away from each other. He snarled and charged, slamming me against the side of the building. I smashed my forearm into his face and kicked him away. We began circling each other, fangs bared.

"So now you're taking their side? Since when do these cattle mean anything to you?"

"They mean nothing. My continued existence does, and I don't need you endangering it with your obsessive need for attention."

"Ha! What is existence without danger? There's no spice!"

"I have spice enough! I don't need your garlic!"

"Okay, what's going on here?" We both turned to see one of the local police come running up. There were several police arriving now as the crowd poured out of the building.

"Nothing at all, good sir," I said as we both straightened and began brushing down our clothes. "Just a minor misunderstanding with my good friend here."

"Yes, minor indeed," said Radu, resuming his usual haughty air. "We will take up this discussion at a later time." We both glared at each other, the officer looking back and forth between us.

"There you are!" I turned to see my erstwhile dinner companion hurrying towards me, looking quite the worse for wear, with her sleeves torn and hair straggling down around her face. "Oh those horrible bats! How dreadful! I'm in such a state! Please kind sir, my companion has fled. Could you see me home?" She grasped my arm and leaned her head against my shoulder. I looked around for Radu, but he had vanished.

So Lincoln made it out of Boston. The bat episode got quite a bit of play in the local newspapers for a couple days, but news of the war soon drowned it out. I did a recent online search and found no mention of it at all. As to the lady, well of course I saw her home. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Besides, I had worked up quite the appetite. Like I said earlier - I'm not the hero.