vampires tend to keep to themselves and their Dominion; it’s the younger ones who seek out the more decadent lifestyle offered by the Sprawl.
Gothtown itself lives up to its name: every street looks like a set-piece for an old Universal horror flick, buildings of gray stone sporting arches, spikes, towers, turrets, and gargoyles. Gothtown is the cultural, historical, and artistic center of the city, which only makes sense given how long the Bloodborn live. They prefer anything of a classical nature, meaning anything as old as they are. The best art and historical museums, the grandest concert halls, and the most-respected theatre district in the city are all located here. And while the elder Bloodborn tend to look down their undead noses at other species in general, they admire non-vampires who display high intelligence or exceptional artistic skill, so it’s not uncommon to find a demon painter with a Bloodborn patron living in Gothtown, or a mixed-species orchestra performing in one of the concert halls. Nekropolis’s hospital, the Fever House, where the poor Conglomeration was evidently at that very moment missing out on all the Descension fun, is also located in Gothtown. The Bloodborn aren’t particularly known for their mercy, but they do have an ancient tradition of keeping blood-both theirs and that of their food supply-pure, hence their highly developed knowledge of medicine.
We kept driving for a time and finally the Cathedral hove into view. I asked Lazlo to let us off a couple blocks away.
“Will do, Matt.”
Lazlo slowed and actually came to a stop without slamming on the brakes and fishtailing for a half dozen yards as he usually does. Maybe his driving skills were beginning to improve. Or maybe he figured we’d suffered enough for one ride and decided to take pity on us. Whichever, he stopped and we got out. Being dead, I guess my sense of balance was less affected by the tumultuous ride than Devona’s. As soon as her feet touched the cobblestones, her knees buckled under her. She would’ve fallen if I hadn’t managed to catch her in time.
I helped her stand, and she nodded to indicate she was okay. I wasn’t so certain, but I took my hands away. She stood a trifle unsteadily, but she stood.
She turned to Lazlo. “How much do we owe you?”
The demon’s fur turned crimson, and his cab began to growl beneath the hood. “Owe me?” he said, as if grievously insulted. “Lady, Matthew Richter and his friends never have to pay to ride in my cab-not after what he did for me!” And then with a wave and a wink of one bulbous bloodshot eye, he roared off to endanger lives elsewhere in the city.
“What did he mean by that?” Devona asked.
“I’ve done favors for other people besides you. But I don’t think Lazlo would appreciate me discussing the particulars.”
She scowled. “You didn’t seem too reluctant to discuss my problem when you were asking him questions. ‘Hear about any big thefts recently?’ I told you I don’t want anyone to find out what’s happened-especially Lord Galm.”
“One of the things I hated the most when I was alive was people trying to tell me how to do my job. And that hasn’t changed now that I’m dead. You want me to find the Dawnstone? Then I’m going to have to ask questions. And you’ll just have to trust me to do so as discretely as possible. You don’t have to worry about Lazlo. He won’t say anything; he’s good people, even if he is a demon.”
She looked like she was going to say something, but then thought better about it. “All right. I’m sorry I questioned you. Now let’s go.”
We started walking toward the Cathedral.
“By the way,” Devona asked, “how did Lazlo know to come get us?”
“I have no idea. Sometimes he just shows up when I need him.”
“That’s odd,” she said.
I laughed. “You’re a half-human vampire who’s asked a zombie ex-cop to help you track down a stolen magic crystal-and you think Lazlo’s odd?”
She smiled. “You’ve got a point.”
We walked to the end of the street, turned the corner, and before us lay the Cathedral, the seat of Lord Galm’s power. I’ve never been to Europe, but I’ve seen pictures of the great Gothic cathedrals. But this place made them all look like tarpaper shacks. It rose four, maybe five hundred feet into the sky (Umbriel’s strange shadowlight sometimes makes it hard to judge distances correctly). I’d never been this close before, and if I still breathed, the sheer insane scope of the structure would have taken my breath away. If I hadn’t known this was Galm’s home, I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover the name “Jehovah” stenciled on the mailbox.
A number of carriages, and one or two limos, were lined up outside the Cathedral. Handsome men and beautiful women with chalk-white skin were disembarking and entering through the vast entranceway between twin black oak doors at least fifty feet tall. The Bloodborn’s clothing represented numerous eras in Earth’s history: ancient Rome and Greece, Elizabethan England, medieval France, colonial America, the Aztec and Mayan Empires, feudal Japan, and many more time periods, cultures, and countries that I didn’t recognize. I was impressed despite myself.
“Lord Galm always hosts a reception for the elite of the Bloodborn before the Renewal Ceremony,” Devona said. “A number of dignitaries even return from Earth to attend.”
“There are still vampires on Earth? I thought all the Darkfolk, vampires included, had migrated to Nekropolis.”
“Most did. But some remained behind, hidden, to look after the Lords’ interests on Earth-and to keep trade routes open.”
That explained how so much modern technology had found its way to Nekropolis. Even across dimensions, the law of supply and demand still held sway.
I felt a pang at the thought of the dimensional portal housed within the Cathedral. Each Darklord had one; I had entered Nekropolis through Lady Varvara’s. But any one of them would return me to Earth, if not to my hometown of Cleveland. But they wouldn’t do me any good now that I was dead.
I had heard of the Renewal Ceremony before, of course, but I didn’t know much about it. But I had more immediate concerns right then. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to examine the Collection. Things look awfully busy right now.”
“No, it’s the perfect time. Everyone is so caught up in the reception that no one will notice us.”
“I don’t think too many zombies received engraved invitations to Lord Galm’s party.”
“There’ll be quite a few humans there as well. Ones who are…drawn to the Bloodborn.”
“I know what you mean. Shadows.” Vampire groupies who get their rocks off by having their blood drained, or who hope to form a relationship with a vampire and become one of the Bloodborn. Or both. They’re called Shadows because they stick close to whichever vampire claims them-and because over time the cumulative blood loss makes them thin, pale shadows of their former selves.
“If anyone takes note of your pallor, and the way you walk, they’ll just think you’re another Shadow.” She smiled, almost shyly. “My Shadow.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong with the way I walk?”
“Never mind.” She took my elbow, the strength of her grip surprising me even though it shouldn’t have, and led me across the cobblestone street toward the Cathedral. I tried very hard not to feel self-conscious about my slightly stiff-legged zombie gait.
A crimson carpet, appropriately enough, had been laid out for the occasion, and we walked across it, up the steps, and toward the open doorway. Above the entrance perched a clutch of snarling stone gargoyles, and as we came closer, I could have sworn that one of them moved the slightest bit. I tried to tell myself that it was my imagination, but I wasn’t very convincing.
Whether they were just statues or something else, the gargoyles remained motionless after that, and then we were in.
Before us stretched a long stone corridor with torches burning in wall sconces. The flames were green- tinted-the same fire as that which burned in Phlegethon? I didn’t know. But whatever the nature of the flame, it produced no smoke. No heat, either, as near as my dead nerves could tell. Still, I didn’t want to get too close. No sense taking a chance on becoming zombie barbecue.
“We’ll just take the corridor to the ballroom, and then keep on going,” Devona whispered.
I nodded slightly. We were on her turf; all I could do was follow her lead.
