VLAD

They made date plans without Gwendolyn for the first time in weeks. It was a perfect night—dinner and then the library. Alice let him ramble on for far too long about the building’s history and then they argued about books.

“You do not call him Daddy Don!” Alice’s eyes sparkled as they wound around another table.

“The Duchelli Legacy calls him Daddy Don,” Vlad replied as his fingers grazed her hip. He was worried that his question-driven anxiety had ruined sex forever, but after their first rule, his desire returned with a vengeance. He pointed at the circulation desk where a librarian was currently scanning the book for him to check out. “Are you telling me he’s not daddy?”

“No,” she bit her lip and gently hip-checked him, “Uther in Tales of Camelot is daddy. King Daddy, actually.”

Vlad made a face, “I’m not rooting for Uther. Morgana and Lancelot are my ship.”

“Lance-hot,” Alice added, her laugh turning into a snort. “Now Almost Eternal—“

“That’s easy, Faith and Seth.”

She frowned, “I mean, I get it, he’s a raging lunatic with no scruples, but—“

“Ah, ah, I have not finished,” he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her around a book cart, “No spoilers.” 

Their easy banter continued as they walked, earning them a few dirty looks from patrons. The way she offered them all non-apology apologies made Vlad want to take her behind the stacks, lift her dress, and put his mouth on her until she was boneless with satisfaction.

“Oh!” she squealed, “In DJ’s World: Bachelorette Party, there’s a character that looks like you, and he has a…” she paused and looked around the library warily before whispering the rest of the statement in his ear. 

Vlad suppressed a groan and leaned over, his voice low. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. You know how I feel about knives.”

That time, her laughter earned them a reprimand from the librarian, so they found an abandoned section and made themselves comfortable on the windowsill. 

“I can’t help that you have a specific taste,” her legs swung rhythmically against the baseboard. She brushed her fingers over his erection; this time, he did not stifle his groan. “You’re like Yuan from Haunted. Actually, you are one hundred percent the Yuan in this relationship. And I’m the Bernard.” 

He leaned in to kiss her. “Would I wear a gown with flawlessly cut water sleeves? Yes. Would I fuck you if you were a ghost? Also, yes.”

She pinched him playfully, which did nothing to dampen his arousal. “This is fun. I love date night. You give me too much nectar, I eat until I burst, we joke about books and patriarchy and podcasts—” she narrowed her eyes, “Wait, do you listen to podcasts?” 

“By men? No,” Vlad shivered, “I have a hard enough time not slaughtering the masses as it is.” He froze, realizing how carelessly he’d thrown out that comment. How would she react? All of his exes had been different. Ana understood, Faba encouraged him, and Ethren…well…Ethren was always disappointed. Vladislaus was either too violent…

—Or not violent enough.

She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “Are you a danger to me and Gwendolyn?”

“No. Never.” He gently gripped her wrist, running his thumb over her pulse, “You are both precious to me.”

He didn’t know he was waiting for her acceptance, but he felt the tension leave his body when the conversation started again. 

“I like Kat in Divided. Lots of bad stuff for witches, which is sort of depressing. But I’m looking forward to when things get better, and they kick ass. It’s bullshit that everyone acts like spellcasters are the problem.”

“Ha!” Vlad snorted, “Witches would love your interpretation.”

She scowled. “I mean, I like my interpretation.”

It was at that moment that Vlad realized he was infinitely stupid. “You think you’re a witch.”

“Well yeah, I see ghosts. And that wand was whispering to me before I touched it. Eliza thought it meant something.” She looked down, fiddling with her dress, “I know it’s crazy that I bonded with the woman who was screwing my boyfriend, because literally, fuck them both. They deserve each other. But Salim was being a real asshole, and Johnny gave me the creeps, and I just…I don’t know. It’s been in my head ever since.”

Vlad wasn’t a fan of some third-rate homewrecker encouraging Alice to touch a bespelled item that could have killed her. His fury might’ve shown on his face because she pulled him down until he was lying with his head in her lap. Whatever agitation he felt about Eliza Pancakes faded. “You don’t smell like a witch,” he murmured. “Witches and their magic have a particular scent, and you just smell like you.”

“Is that why you keep my ghosts away? I smell nice?”

He chuckled. Vlad had no idea why ghosts never bothered her when he was around. Vampires must not be prone to haunting. “We will figure it out,” he promised.

“I know,” she drummed her fingers on his sternum, the vibration of it so soothing he closed his eyes. Fuck. He might actually fall asleep like this.

“Can I ask one question?”

“I am so relaxed right now, I’d answer a barrage of queries.”

“Do you ever worry about consequences? With all your murder stuff?”

Vlad huffed a laugh and grabbed her hand, gently kissing her fingertips. “I am mostly retired, just the occasional ‘murder stuff.’ Honestly, if there are consequences, I tend to just outlive them.”

BIFFINGTON BOBRIDGE

The first thing Biffington Bobridge did was post a letter.

Actually, the first thing Biffington Bobridge did was crawl to the bathroom to check his injuries. He tried not to cry because crying was not manly, but it was hard. 

Everything the vampire did hurt.

And the more it hurt, the more gleeful he got. 

Later, Biffington examined the puncture marks along his neck, the way they tracked around, ending in a torn strip of flesh above his heart. There was bruising and scabbing. Some he remembered. 

Some he did not.

The vampire promised not to turn him. Sneered it while he forced Biffington to draft a letter of apology to the presenter. It was too bad. The last of the Bobridges wished he was a vampire—a powerful sort of man who could rightfully assert his dominance and make the world over correctly. 

The Brindleton Bay Men’s Club of Knowing and Knowledge had hunted the supernatural for years. It was their calling, though they had so far failed to produce anything resembling real evidence. 

There were manuscripts, artifacts, and the original copy of the Ultimate Vampire Tome, but what Biffington offered the club was proof. His letter said as much: 

Dear Esteemed Board Member,

Not since receiving the Ultimate Vampire Tome in 1882 has this club gotten such a significant lead. Vampires exist. I was accosted by one who goes by the name—perhaps alias—Vladislaus Straud. I will not elaborate on the details of this altercation except to assure you that I conducted myself with the utmost decorum and strength of character. I would like to propose an emergency meeting to discuss these matters further.

Yours,

Biffington Bobridge  

He didn’t send it to all of the board members, of course, just the most (in his opinion) worthy.

One for Bjorn Bjersen.

One for Jacques Villareal.

One for Mortimer Goth.

He poured the drinks, set out the snacks, and rechecked his notes. The members would be arriving shortly, and he wanted everything to be perfect for his presentation.  

NEXT TIME, ON THE STRAUDS:

Trailer Song: “Play with Fire” by Sam Tinnesz

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CREDITS

In addition to the  CC I regularly use in the game and buildings from the Fleuralia Save File, I also used the following builds and custom content: