Chapter 5
Octavia and Vinyl pulled up in front of Fancypants’ house. Octavia had rarely seen it in stark daylight. She was starting to feel some fatigue from being up so long in the daylight.
Fancypants was in his office and stood up as they came in. Octavia opened her mouth to speak, but he was quicker. “Ladies, you’re just in time for lunch.”
“Oh really?” Vinyl’s eyebrows went up.
“I was just up to the moors and harvested a few rather nice pheasant.” He escorted them to the kitchen.
“Can this wait just a moment?” Octavia said. “We really must talk.”
Fancypants indicated a saucepan atop the stove. “I anticipated that you would be hungry as well, Ms. Melody.”
He was an excellent chef and Octavia visited his house during mealtime seldom enough that blood a la Fancy was a rare treat.
But this really was more important. “By chance, we ran into the gardener.”
“Oh really?” Fancypants’ brows furrowed. “Yes, I suppose that is rather attention-grabbing. What happened?”
They told him the story, ending with, well, the end.
“His name was Dirty Trowel,” said Fancypants. “It’s rather an amazing coincidence that met him. It would have been better if you had been able to interrogate him, or at least let him live long enough for me to do so.”
“Sorry,” Octavia muttered. It was part sarcasm, part genuine regret. Delaying the satisfaction just a little could have given them so much more information.
“So what do you make of him having six fingers on each hand?” Vinyl said.
“Random mutations among vampires are not unheard of,” said Fancypants. “Though that’s a new one for me.”
“So do you have another one?” Octavia asked. “Now that we’ve dealt with one of the three that killed my parents.”
“No,” said Fancypants. He tipped his head, looking at her. “How do you feel?”
Octavia blinked, only just now pausing to think about it. “Honestly...I’m surprised that I’m not more emotional. Granted, I have no proof that - what was his name, Dirty Trowel? - actually killed anyone.”
“He did,” said Fancypants, “though I know what you meant. I have no evidence he did anything beyond observing the night your parents died.”
“Maybe it’ll be different with the others,” said Octavia. “Maybe I simply haven’t had enough time to process it. But as for now...I don’t really feel different now that it’s done.”
“Does that mean you’ll give her the next guy as soon as you find him?” Vinyl asked.
“We’ll see,” said Fancypants. “Now, I believe lunch is getting cold.”
The table was already set and Fancypants served them. While the three of them ate (and drank), he detailed the next target.
“Prissy Petunia is the wealthy socialite type. I’ve prioritized other vampires over her for a while, but when she killed her chief competitor on the dog show circuit, well, that’s when I decided she was irredeemable.”
“Can we see to her tomorrow?” Octavia asked. “I haven’t slept.”
“Tomorrow happens to be the dog show,” said Fancypants. “I daresay there would be far too many people to attempt anything.”
“It could be good for checking her out,” said Vinyl. “How do you want to do it, Tavi? It’s your turn.”
Octavia nodded. “Let’s go to the dog show.”
The next morning, they two of them were down at the ExCeL center, an exhibition hall in Custom House, eastern London. They sat in Vinyl’s car in the car park and watched people - and dogs - enter the building.
Prissy Petunia didn’t look like Cruella de Vil, though she had most of the outfit down. She was with her poodle. Octavia noticed two men who were clearly with her following along behind.
The group of them went into a separate entrance from spectators. Watching the flow of the crowd, it soon became apparent that it must be where contestants went in.
“I have an idea,” said Octavia.
“Does it have anything to do with me being on a leash?” Vinyl asked. “Because I brought it.”
Octavia stared at her. “Have you ever competed in a dog show before?”
“It can’t be too hard, right? Dogs do it.”
“Okay,” said Octavia. She paused. “Why do you have a leash?”
Vinyl was already busy stripping down and used the distraction of pulling her shirt up over her face to avoid replying. Octavia begrudgingly kept a lookout as her partner got naked in the driver’s seat.
The collar and leash were in the glove box, and Octavia fitted them once Vinyl was fully finished changing. Fifty kilos made for a petite woman but a large canine and the car suddenly seemed more crowded than before.
They got out. Octavia closed and locked the car, pocketing the keys, and led Vinyl towards the event center. Vinyl put on a huge, dopey grin, her tongue hanging out, and her ears gone floppy. Otherwise, she might have looked like a wild animal. A wolf did not make for a very convincing dog even if she was perfectly white with bright eyes.
There was a registration desk at the door. Day-of entries were limited to amateur classes of show, but that did not matter for their purpose here today.
The grandmotherly woman at the desk leaned forward, adjusting her glasses. “What breed is that?”
“I’m really not sure what she is,”Octavia replied.
“What's her name?”
Octavia glanced down at Vinyl. They should have thought of this beforehand. She said the first thing that came to mind. “Poochie.”
That was the last bit of information needed to complete the registration. Octavia paid the entry fee and received the completed form. She walked into the building, her werewolf on a leash.
The event center was a series of large, warehouse-like open spaces that were hired out depending on the size of the event. One of the smaller ones near the back had been set up into grooming areas where competitors could wait until called. It was a little like a locker room and a little like a salon. Octavia walked through until they found Prissy. With all the dogs around, there was enough sound and smell to mask any chance that Prissy would realize what Octavia and Vinyl were.
Octavia, for her part, did like dogs, though she had never, and likely would never, own one. If nothing else, dogs were much more pleasant on the eyes than gore and bloodshed.
She and Vinyl waited just within sight of Prissy, observing. She was constantly on her cell phone or giving orders to the two men with her. Both of them looked young and fit, wearing matching clothing. As Octavia watched, however, something troubled her about them. Their movements were almost too coordinated as they groomed Prissy’s poodle. Neither one of them displayed so much as a trace of emotion as they went about their business.
“Ghouls, do you think?” Octavia asked quietly.
Vinyl’s ears flicked in what might have been a gesture of agreement.
Around them, people and dogs came and went. There were several categories in the show. The form category was all about how certain breeds looked to judges. The obstacle course competition was purely based on speed and agility. Vinyl, being a first entry of indeterminate breed, could only compete in the open-contest class of the obstacle course.
Fortunately, that was towards the end of the show and the two of them had plenty of time to observe Prissy. Fancypants had given them her home address, so it wouldn’t be difficult to find her later.
Despite not lifting a finger to help groom her dog, Prissy was the one to walk the poodle out. From a TV on the wall, Octavia watched the show live. Prissy had at least as much poise as the professionally trained dog walking in front of the judges.
The obstacle course was not shown ahead of time, so none of the competitors could plan for it. Octavia was considering just skipping the competition, but her name was called and it would have been more awkward to refuse.
The two of them walked out of the hallway and into the arena. The competition ring had been set up with stadium seating that was nearly packed. It must have been thousands of people. Octavia kept her eyes down and trusted that Vinyl knew where to go.
The obstacle course contained a few barrels to crawl through, boxes to jump, and poles to weave between. It was likely that Vinyl was the largest competitor by far. Looking at some of the obstacles, Octavia wondered if she would even fit.
“We aren’t here to prove anything,” Octavia said as she knelt to remove the leash.
Vinyl panted and grinned.
“Don’t look at me like that, this was your idea.”
Octavia coiled the leash in her hand and straightened up. The official holding the starting whistle stared at her, having apparently heard the whole thing. “Are you ready?”
“We are,” Octavia acknowledged.
She said it, but still wasn’t really anticipating what would happen when the whistle tweeted. Vinyl was off like a shot, leaving Octavia standing at the starting line.
Octavia quickly raced after her, by which point Vinyl had already dove into the obstacles. In fact, she seemed to be handling it just fine without any guidance, leaning into turns, toenails scrabbling on the carpeted floor.
A wave of cheers rose up from the crowd as Vinyl finished the course and crossed the line to stop the clock. Octavia glanced up, briefly noting that the time had gone to the top of the board, but was more concerned about getting off the field.
Vinyl pranced back to the grooming area. “You didn’t need to draw attention to us like that,” said Octavia. They went back to where they had waited. Vinyl sat down and licked down a couple of spots of fur that had gotten mussed during the exercise. She was still panting.
“Must you lick yourself in public?” Octavia said.
An event official stopped by. “This is Poochie, right? Stick around after the event. If you win, we’re going to have all the winners take a photo together.”
When he was gone, Octavia conceded to Vinyl, “All right, I suppose that could allow us to get close to Prissy. Assuming all of us win, of course.”
The winners of the form category were announced on the TV. Prissy and her poodle won best of breed. Not surprising, as she had killed her chief competitor, after all.
Despite Vinyl’s performance, Octavia was still mildly surprised when her name was called for awards. She and Vinyl went back out and were made to stand on a podium in front of the crowd.
The official presenting the trophy gushed over them. “And out of nowhere, we have a mixed-breed, quite a large one, with a first-time trainer taking the fastest time. How does it feel to win?” He held the microphone in Octavia’s face.
“Good,” she said
“So this is Poochie?” he went on, taking a knee to scratch Vinyl’s ears. “Tell us a little about her.”
“She likes, er...food and...electronic music,” Octavia managed. The crowd laughed.
Octavia accepted the trophy, which was small and plastic, but was still engraved with First Place. The award was one of the last presented in the show and soon the two of them were called to appear in the group picture.
Vampires didn’t show up in film cameras, but digital had changed things. There was usually sufficient iron in the wiring and circuits to form an image.
As various people and dogs were jockeying for position in the frame, Vinyl took the opportunity to wind her way through various pairs of legs to get closer to Prissy and her dog.
The photos were snapped. The crowd of winners began to disperse. Octavia tugged Vinyl away.
She headed for a small coffee shop located in the main concourse of the event center. Octavia didn’t drink coffee, but a paper cup with a plastic lid bought her a few minutes to sit and wait, letting the departing spectators clear out and hopefully reduce the crowd in the car park.
Vinyl would have lapped up the coffee, but Octavia thought they’d already drawn enough attention to themselves today.
Leaving the event center, Octavia slipped her sunglasses on. She took a careful look around as they approached the car. She opened the passenger door, but was surprised when Vinyl hopped in. Octavia corrected her. “No, you have to drive. I don’t have a licence, you remember.”
Vinyl cocked her head.
Octavia put her hands on her hips. “Yes, I’m well aware that we cheated on a dog show, but that’s quite a bit different than a moving violation.”
Vinyl’s body stretched back into the seat as her limbs lengthened and lost their fur. She ended with a sigh and flexed her hands. “Man, Tavi, you’re totally cool with assassinations but the prospect of driving without a license, ooh, can’t do that.”
Vinyl unbuckled the collar from around her neck and took the trophy from Octavia’s hands. She held it up. “Cool, this’ll look great on the mantle.”
Octavia wanted to protest, just on principle, but, well, it hadn’t been her running the course.
“Put some clothes on,” she said. “Then, let’s go see where Prissy lives.”
“I think she might not go there right away,” said Vinyl as she got dressed. “When I got close, I saw her dog had the address of a kennel on her collar tag. I can’t think of any reason for that unless Prissy leaves her dog there between shows. She did seem like the kind of person who wouldn’t allow a dog in her house.”
“It’s another thing to check,” Octavia agreed.
Vinyl ran a hand through her hair. “Do I have time to redye? You know how it comes out when I change.”
Octavia sighed. “I suppose you’ve earned it.”
Vinyl grinned and got up out of the passenger seat, now fully dressed. She reached up and patted Octavia’s head. “Good girl.”
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another great chapter
Poochie. I wonder if there's anything close to a single bone of pride in vinyl's body
ok so now we know vinyl might like pet play
Vinyl masquerading as a dog, huh? The fact that she even has a leash and collar is kinda weird, but hey to each their own . . .
. . . Wait, so if I call her a bitch, what would her reaction be?
8476701
Or she's just genre savvy.
Not gonna lie, when I imagined Vinyl as a werewolf, I half pictured her as becoming one of the Werewolves from Underworld as opposed to becoming actual wolves. But regardless, it's good shit!
"moving violation" is an americanism.
8478256
What's the Britishism?
8478432
that probably is it
its called a traffic violation in america
unless your in a boat or plane
its a moving violation then
8478432
There isn't one. It wouldn't be obvious to us what it means for a violation to be moving, because that sounds like "violation" is a noun - a pack of violations moving through the air!
Instead we talk about the specific crime, here that'd just be "driving without a licence" in casual speech.
You know, I heard that the reason that vampires didn't have reflections was because mirrors used to be backed with silver, and silver was proof against evil. With vampires not being able to be photographed it was because silver nitrate being one of the chemicals involved. Extend that to modern video it depends on how much silver is used in the electronics. It's interesting that iron/steel is what lets vampire videos be taken.
Just an observation, excellent story so far.
I love how absolutely English Octavia is. I'm sure she would fret about cutting in a que, as well.
there should be a piont were vinyl tells octavia about her reaction to when she transformed for the first time.
Woah!!! I never thought of vampires showing up with digital cameras before!!! That's genius!!!!