The three of us leave the jail, and Nice is completely silent, staring with the sort of seriousness only a vampire who is planning his enemy’s demise gives. Once we’re somewhere private, I need to ask Michael about how he plans to keep Nice locked up. For good this time.
We pass three sets of steel security bars, and I turn to Freddy and whisper, “Please tell me you have a plan to make sure Nice never gets out.”
He bobs his head of perfectly combed dark hair at the concrete floor. It’s almost like he’s trying not to look at my dress. It is pretty skimpy. But I’ve never met a prude vampire.
“Good. Because he means business.” I grab his arm and squeeze so he knows I, too, mean business. But when I press my fingers down, it’s like clawing granite. “Wow. You been working out, vampire?” I ask.
Freddy shrugs. “Not really.”
But I was made by Nice, and Nice is supposed to be the oldest living vampire in existence. Michael is a second-generation vampire, so that makes Freddy a third-gen.
What’s my point?
I don’t know all that much when it comes to the particulars of vampire superiority, but I do know our lineages should make me and Freddy relatively equal in strength. Yet he seems much stronger.
So strange. I make a mental note to ask the real Michael about it later. Right now, I have bigger vamp puzzles to solve.
The three of us pass several more checkpoints. I notice there are zero decorations, plants, or signs anywhere on this floor. Plain white walls. Plain white tile floor. Lots of locked doors made of steel. On the way to the elevators, we pass two men armed to the fangs with crisscrossed swords on their backs and automatic rifles in their hands. Whatever Michael keeps down here must be important.
We step into the elevator and ride it up to the top floor. Freddy has to punch in a code to get the doors to open. We step out into another long hallway, but this one has gray carpet and two sets of cameras. Apparently, they take security very seriously around here, but not interior decorating. I guess it’s not a surprise, considering the king is about as feng shui as a razor blade.
We enter Michael’s office, which has a wall of floor-to-ceiling books on one side, an antique desk and chair, and two more leather armchairs facing it. No windows.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?” Michael asks, standing next to his own desk, wearing a crisp white shirt, black slacks and a black vest that looks like it’s part of a three-piece suit.
I walk up to the real Michael. “You are in serious trouble. How dare you make me come here against my—”
“But I am Freddy, ma’am,” he says with a sly smile.
Hold on. My head whips back and forth between the two men. I glance at Stella. “Sweetie, which one is Daddy?”
She shrugs. Even she’s not sure.
“Right here, little one.” The man dressed as Freddy pats her on the head.
She giggles, clearly enjoying the game: Guess your daddy.
As for me, I’m annoyed. “So you’re the real Michael?” I say to the man dressed in all black.
He nods. “I used Nice as a test. If I can fool him, I can fool anyone.” He looks back down at Stella. “My apologies for the ruse, child. I assure you I had good reason.”
“I like ruses. What’s a ruse?” she says.
“It means to pretend you’re awesome when you’re not,” I reply, looking directly at Michael. “Wait. Which one of you went with me to Miami?”
“I did,” says the real Michael. “Freddy needed to remain here, working in the lab.”
“Okay. So will you tell me what is going on?” I just don’t understand why Michael is pretending to be Freddy all of a sudden.
Michael gestures for me to take a seat in one of two leather armchairs.
I sit, and Stella goes straight for the bookshelf to start perusing Michael’s reading selection. It only takes her a second to find something interesting. She plops down on the gray carpet and starts flipping through the pages.
Michael and I both smile proudly.
“She will be a great reader,” he says and goes to lean against the edge of his desk.
Freddy stands next to him in his suit, and my mind still can’t handle seeing two Michaels.
They exchange glances.
“Well?” I push.
“I cannot keep the truth from you any longer, especially considering that we will require your assistance tomorrow.”
His verbal setup makes me nervous. “Okay. What is it? What’s going on?”
“As you may have guessed, librarian,” Michael says, apparently still unable to say my name, “Freddy is not my cousin. He is a four-hundred-year-old vampire, just as I am. He is my twin.”
Michael has a brother? But the news is so shockingly obvious that I feel a little ridiculous. Of course they’re twins.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?” I ask. “And how did he end up a vampire?”
“Ah, well. It is a very long story,” says Michael, “but in short, after Clive turned me, I was convinced I had been made into an unholy servant of the devil.” Michael shrugs. “Different times, you see. Anything not human was deemed to be evil.”
“You’re not evil, but you are a massive dick.” Freddy smiles.
Michael narrows his eyes.
Now I can definitely see they’re brothers. The putdowns are a telltale sign.
Michael goes on, “Anyway, my mother and father could not agree which boarding school to send us to, so we were separated in one final act of bad parenting before they left for the New World. I went to England, and Freddy was sent to France, and we grew up completely apart. Many years later, right after I was turned, I went to find him and say farewell because I very much planned to end my new unhallowed life. But Freddy knew something was off—very off—so I told him what happened.”
“You’re taking too long with this story.” Freddy looks at me. “He got
