The Ouroboros Cycle, Book Two: A Cautionary Tale for Young Vampires. G.D. Falksen
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“Yes,” Varanus agreed, “but he still took the money and drove off, leaving us to our fate.”
Ekaterine held up a hand and said, “Don’t spoil the moment.”
Varanus smiled and took Ekaterine by the arm.
“Come along,” she said. “We must get to the clinic promptly, lest my poor patients be left waiting. And what’s more, I’m feeling rather peckish.”
They began walking down the street, deeper into the slum. All the while, the poor and derelict people who passed them shied away, bobbed their heads, and in several cases cast envious glances toward them. It was not surprising: she and Ekaterine were making a display of affluence in a truly impoverished place. They could have disguised themselves in the manner of locals, but that was contrary to Varanus’s purposes. Far better to be seen and noticed.
“Peckish?” Ekaterine asked, as they walked. “I recall our having eaten only an hour ago.”
Varanus grimaced and said, “If one can call that eating. I fear that the local fare disagrees with me.” She paused. “Well, all but one kind of local fare, and even then it is tainted by the local diet.”
“Don’t you enjoy any part of the English cuisine?” Ekaterine asked, taunting playfully. In truth, she hated it as much as Varanus did.
“As we have both learned these past few months,” Varanus replied, “the English do not have a cuisine. They have food that is heated, and that is the end of it.”
Ekaterine laughed and Varanus joined her. It was good to be in the land of her ancestors, Varanus thought—half of her ancestors at any rate—but she was gravely disappointed by the state of English cooking. Thankfully, English fashion more than compensated.
“I am glad that you wore the blue,” she told Ekaterine. “It suits you.”
Ekaterine glanced toward the stoop of a nearby building where a couple of men were lounging around drinking in the first shadows of dusk. The men were looking in their direction with distinctly lecherous gazes.
“So I’ve noticed,” Ekaterine said. She smiled at the men and fluttered her eyelashes. The men, rewarded by this display, made noises of encouragement to one another. One of them even stepped off the stoop and began to shamble slowly in their direction.
“Ekaterine!” Varanus exclaimed, slapping her friend’s hand firmly. She began walking more quickly to leave the men behind. “Kindly do not make such a display of yourself. I’m surprised at you. Winking at them like a shameless coquette.”
Ekaterine laughed and replied, “You said you were hungry. I had planned to lure one or two of them into a private place for you.”
“I’m doubly surprised,” Varanus said. “Why surely, once they learned what we were about, they would be quite unwilling.”
“In this instance I’d shed few tears,” Ekaterine said. “Unlike you, I trouble myself to learn something of our neighbors. The man following us beats his wife and children. And I suspect he’s a thief. I doubt the world would much mourn his passing.”
“Oh!” Varanus exclaimed. How silly of her not to have trusted Ekaterine, however peculiar her actions. Perhaps there really was something to passing words with the neighbors after all. “I didn’t realize. Shall we go back?”
“Uh…” Ekaterine glanced back and frowned. “No, he’s given up. A shame, but I suppose it was an unlikely thing from the start.”
“A shame indeed,” Varanus agreed, licking her lips. She really was parched. It had been ages since she had properly indulged herself. “I fear that to approach them directly would be most unseemly.”
“Yes,” Ekaterine agreed. “Almost as unseemly as this hat.”
* * * *
They continued on in the growing darkness. Within a few minutes, the sun had dimmed sufficiently for Varanus to remove her veil. It was nice to be able to see clearly, though little of what there was to see proved pleasing to the eyes. As they turned into a side street, Varanus fancied that she heard footsteps behind them, walking along at a slightly quicker pace.
She leaned close to Ekaterine and whispered, “I think we’re being followed.”
“Oh?” Ekaterine asked. She placed her hand over her mouth and giggled, as if being told some wonderful joke, and turned her head toward Varanus. When she turned back, she said, “You’re right. Three men. One has a cudgel. I think they mean to rob us. Or worse.”
“Wonderful!” Varanus said. Suddenly the evening was looking up. And better still, she saw an alley branching off from the street where they would likely be concealed from the prying eyes of the locals.
She led Ekaterine into the alley, looking about like a confused woman lost on her way. To her approval, the alley ended in a tall wooden fence. There was only one way out, so they would be cornered. Varanus led Ekaterine almost to the fence before turning back. The men following them had entered the alley by that point and were approaching. One man held a lantern and another had a short club as Ekaterine had said.
Ekaterine did a good job of shying away nervously, and Varanus did her best to look proud but frightened.
“’Ere then,” the man with the lantern said, leading the way for his fellows. “What’ve we got now?’”
“I do beg your pardon…sir,” Varanus said, dubiously, “but I fear that my sister and I seem to have become lost in your…district. I would be most obliged—” She caught herself as the man with the cudgel approached and leered at her. He smelled horribly of sweat and alcohol. “Oh, my.…” She made a show of drawing away before trying again: “I would be most obliged if you could direct us to the London Hospital.”
Ekaterine clung tightly to her arm and said, “Mildred, I told you we should have remained in the cab.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that, love,” said the man with the lantern, smiling at Ekaterine and showing his yellowed teeth. “We’re all just good Samaritans, ain’t we?”
The other men nodded in agreement.
The leader took Ekaterine by the hand and continued, “We’d be ’appy to show you to the ’ospital. We just need a little compensation, don’t we?”
The man with the cudgel grabbed Varanus by the wrist and pulled her to him while the other two men fell upon Ekaterine. Varanus obligingly fell forward into the man’s grasp, swiftly enough to avoid the cudgel as he brought it down at her head. She pressed forward further, now entirely of her own volition, and shoved her opponent into the wall, far harder than a woman of her stature should have managed.
With her enemy momentarily stunned, she chanced a look back at Ekaterine. She need not have worried. She saw Ekaterine strike the leader in the throat with the heel of her palm. He dropped the lantern and stumbled away, gagging and choking. The third ruffian grabbed for Ekaterine’s neck. Ekaterine crossed her arms in front of her and slammed her fists into the crook of each elbow, breaking the grasp.
Varanus sensed movement beside her and saw the man with the cudgel come at her again. His eyes were wide, his expression bewildered at being so easily overpowered by a woman, but he still had not given up the hope of an easy mark. It was just as well. Varanus was in no mood to chase him down if he happened to run.
She caught him by the wrist as he swung his cudgel at her head. Surprised, the man resisted, pulling away for another strike. Varanus tightened her grip and held him fast. The man screamed in confusion and punched her in the stomach. Overconfident from her success, Varanus was caught off guard by the blow and she slumped forward. Much of the force was displaced by the boning of her corset and the firm muscles beneath, but it still hurt. In reply, Varanus tightened her grip on the man’s wrist until she felt the bones snap. The man started to scream, and Varanus slammed his head against the wall to silence him.
She turned