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Nandor slammed the door of the manor open, hearing something further inside the house fall off the wall at the shuttering impact.
“Easy now, old chap,” Laszlo called as he followed at a cautious distance.
“I will not be easy,” he growled, clenching his fists uselessly as he stalked the foyer. “You be easy!”
Nothing was easy right now. Their fun little trip to Morrigan Manor had gone to shit. After everything that had happened after the roast, he had been having serious, heavy thoughts about Guillermo. Nandor had planned to have a talk with him during their time away from the house, finally give him the dream that he had promised all these years. But then, during the human hunt, Guillermo had suddenly acted strange, almost ill. And when Nandor looked up from his kill to boast of his success to Guillermo, he had frozen in place at the sight.
Guillermo, leaning on a tree nearby, staring intensely. With golden eyes. And fangs.
Guillermo…looking like a vampire.
Nandor had not had a chance to respond. As soon as Guillermo saw his expression, he had gotten a look of fear and…pain? And then he had fled into the woods, disappearing while Nandor was paralyzed in his shock, useless to pursue him. Not that he was sure he wanted to be near Guillermo right now.
He growled and threw the nearest piece of furniture across the room.
“Nandor, you have every right to be angry,” Nadja started, lingering near the door out of range of his rage.
“Every single right,” he rumbled. “Not only does my own familiar, my bodyguard betray me, but every single one of you knew except me! You knew, you knew,” he pointed at Laszlo and Colin. “Even the Guide and she’s…her!”
He gestured pointedly at her, taking no solace in her offended expression as she said, “I don’t know what that means, but—"
“And every one of you just decided, ‘Oh, we’ll play a little game. Make Nandor the fool while we all laugh behind his back at his foolish foolishness!”
“In our defense, we pretty much figured you’d react the way you’re reacting right now,” Laszlo commented, “after you killed us first.”
Colin Robinson sidled past them toward his room. “As filling as this conversation is, I’m heading to bed. Let me know if anyone’s still undead in the morning or if I need to post a Craigslist ad for new roommates.”
“Not so fast, Colin Robinson!” Nandor shouted after him.
“Nah, let the man go,” Laszlo said. “He honestly had nothing to do with it and made it clear he wanted no part of the whole situation.”
Nandor should have taken some comfort from that, but the fact that Colin Robinson turned out to be the most loyal of them was no comfort at all.
Instead, he rounded on the other man as his nearest target. “Was it you? Is that why the two of you have been so buddy-buddy the last few months?” Nandor’s face fell, his throat choking up with despair. “It’s not fair to seduce my best friend with your fancy words and science! You don’t see me taking Sean from you with my virile military prowess!”
Laszlo’s expression became deadly serious and he put a hand on Nandor’s shoulder. “Nandor, I promise you, We’ve had our issues before, but I would never do that to you. Have sex with him, maybe, if I was really blindly drunk and horny. But I would never turn another vampire’s familiar.”
Nandor held his gaze for a moment, before crumpling and patting Laszlo’s arm. “I know. You’re a bastard, but just a horny one. Not a traitorous one.”
“Thank you. What we have been doing together is trying to figure out a way to unfuck him so you could be the one to do the deed properly. As it were.”
“You’re a good friend, Laszlo.” Nandor groaned, slumping to the floor and pulling his legs to his chest. “But who would do this to me?! Was it you?” He snarled at the Guide, who threw her arms up.
“Hey! Why do you keep looking at me?” she retorted. “For months you all ignore me, but suddenly somebody turns someone else’s familiar and now everybody wants to talk to the Guide!”
“You lusted after him! Craved his Van Helsing blood!” Nandor growled. “You couldn’t resist seducing him, could you?”
“Oh, shut up, nobody seduced your precious ‘bodyguard’,” Nadja interrupted. “He made the choice himself.”
The pain pierced deeper into Nandor’s chest. He pulled his legs closer, glaring at the floor. “I don’t believe you,” he muttered. “Guillermo has been nothing but loyal to me his entire time working here.”
There was a chorus of “Eh” noises from the others in the room.
Nandor crossed his arms. “Then who did he supposedly ‘choose’ to go to instead of me?”
“Derek,” Nadja answered.
Nandor frowned, thoughtfully. “Derek?” he said the unfamiliar name like it tasted coagulated.
“The pathetic little kariolis we almost killed as an example when we were leading the Vampire Council because he was a shitty vampire,” she explained.
“Ehhh…” It still didn’t come to his mind, but that didn’t sound good. He shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Why would Guillermo go to someone like that?!”
“Well, you know,” Laszlo said slowly, “if you want proof, there’s someone here who I do believe has the full story.”
Nandor was about to ask who, but followed Laszlo’s nod to the camera crew hiding, but filming steadily in the corner.
“Yes…” Nandor pushed to his feet, watching them flinch as he bore down on them. “You follow us around all the time. You must follow Guillermo too, for filler material, yes? You were there when…it happened?”
The director grimaced. “We’re really not supposed to intervene in what happens. It’s just supposed to be a naturalistic observation—”
Nandor snarled, slamming the director against the wall by his throat.
“You want to live to finish your movie, I recommend you show him the tapes, boy,” Laszlo called lazily, lighting his pipe.
Nandor grinned in the director’s face.
The man swallowed. “Where would you like to watch?”
OOO
Nandor stood still as a statue as the film crew set up their glowing box in the manor’s equivalent of the fancy room and located the section that would show him the proof of Guillermo’s betrayal. Despite everything he had seen and heard so far, part of Nandor still hoped the video would reveal a misunderstanding. A simple whoopsie-daisy or mix-em-up that showed Guillermo had never meant to commit the deepest insult possible in the vampire world. Yes, the others said he hadn’t known about that taboo, but regardless, after all their years together, he should have known how much it would hurt Nandor to go to anyone else for this.
There would be an explanation for this. There had to be.
But that didn’t mean he really wanted to see it.
“Well, are we set up for this little peep show yet or what?” Laszlo asked, flopping down on the couch across from Nandor with a glass of blood.
“Wh—” Nandor sat up straighter, looking over as Nadja and the Guide entered the room as well. “I’d really rather you all were not here for this.”
“Trust me, I’m not exactly eager to watch Gizmo whore himself out to the lamest vampire we know either,” Laszlo grunted. “But there might be something useful on there to explain why his condition eludes even my brilliant science.”
“And I don’t want to be the only one who hasn’t seen it if you two do,” Nadja said, sitting beside Laszlo.
“I just want to watch it for the freaky gossip,” the Guide said with a shrug.
“Hmph.” Nandor wasn’t thrilled to have his shame aired before all of them, but he supposed they knew before he did, so what did it matter?
Which only put him in a worse mood.
The director cleared his throat as the nervous editor looked up from the computer. “If you’re all ready?”
Nandor wasn’t, but he gave a brusque gesture to continue.
On the screen, he saw Guillermo entering a brightly lit shop. Not the mall; one of those painfully bright ‘convenience stores’ that littered the city.
“Derek?” Guillermo called and Nandor had to tamp down his anger or he wouldn’t make it through this video.
“Yeah, in the back!” a voice called.
The camera followed Guillermo through the store to the back room where Nandor saw his enemy at last. He tried to recall the face in front of him, but honestly he could only vaguely put it on his memories of his time as co-leader of the Vampiric Council. He was just so…unmemorable. How did Guillermo even remember him, much less choose him as his sire?!
Derek set down a clipboard and looked up at Guillermo. “Okay. What is so urgent?”
“Well, Derek…” Guillermo set a heavy bag onto a pile of wares in the store and unzipped it. “This…is for you.”
The camera panned in to show a large amount of money.
“Where the hell did he get that much money?” Nadja snapped. “Oh, if he stole that from my nightclub…”
“Bigger concerns, darling,” Laszlo soothed.
Derek too was marveling at the fortune. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Nothing. It’s what you’re about to do,” Guillermo replied.
“Which is…?”
“You’re going to make me a vampire,” Guillermo said, turning slightly to smirk at the camera.
Nandor growled. He was mocking him! Staring at him through the lens, proud of his betrayal! He hadn’t even tried to hide it!
“Turn it off,” Nandor ordered, standing up.
“What, that’s it?” Laszlo protested.
“I have all the proof I need.” Nandor turned to walk away, feeling the grief and betrayal consuming his chest. “You were right. I misjudged him.”
“Nandor…” Nadja said softly, reaching toward him. He ignored her hand.
“Well, I’m watching the rest. Make it go again,” Laszlo gestured to the editor.
“Sure, man,” the bastard vampire’s voice said onscreen. So casually, to steal another vampire’s familiar.
Nandor continued toward the door.
“Whoa!” Guillermo’s voice yelped, making Nandor pause. “Not yet, sorry.”
Nandor glanced back, but saw Guillermo was just taking his sweater off. The camera’s view, peering from behind a rack of shelves, gave the situation an even more voyeuristic feeling.
“I just don’t want anything on it,” Guillermo said, setting it carefully aside. Nandor could feel the familiar texture of the woven fabric on his fingertips. “My grandma gave it to me.”
Nandor clenched his hand, remembering not that long ago clutching a similar sweater as he feared for Guillermo’s safety once the furious Baron woke up. His stomach twisted.
He should have already distanced himself from this torment, back up in his borrowed room where he could rage and scream himself raw in privacy. But he hovered in the door, unable to leave, half-watching over his shoulder.
Guillermo and Derek hovered awkwardly for a moment, before Guillermo took a steadying breath and closed his eyes, leaning his head back to expose his neck.
“I’m ready.”
The sight of Guillermo baring his throat to another vampire was a stab of hot silver in Nandor’s gut, but he couldn’t look away. He saw the others flick awkward, cautious glances at him as Derek loosened up his shoulders, put his hands on Guillermo’s, and lunged in. At the last moment, Nandor shut his eyes, grimacing away.
“Derek!”
They all jumped. Nandor looked again to see another man walk in, not even looking up from his clipboard.
“Customer toilet is clogged again,” he said, already leaving, unaware what he had just intruded on.
Derek pulled back, brushing around Guillermo. “You know what, I’ve gotta take care of this.”
Everyone in the room protested in sync with Guillermo on screen.
“Seriously?!” Nadja scoffed. “In the middle of a turning?” She did an exaggerated version of Derek’s voice. “‘Oh, I’ll just go clean a toilet. Not like I’m doing anything important!’” She spat.
“No sense of decorum these days,” Laszlo agreed.
Onscreen, Guillermo managed to get Derek’s attention back to him with his usual strained patience. The young vampire had the nerve to laugh at the situation.
“You know what? Trevor’s always telling me I have bad task management skills, you know? First, turn you into a vampire—”
“Yes,” Guillermo nodded. Nandor could tell he was barely keeping his irritation in check. He knew that look well.
“Then, I’ll clean the toilets,” Derek continued.
“Unbelievable,” Laszlo muttered.
Despite the abysmal lack of atmosphere, Guillermo opened his shirt collar, baring his neck even further and clearly trying to put himself into a more appropriate headspace.
“I’m ready,” he whispered and Nandor shivered slightly despite himself.
Again, Derek leaned in and Nandor wanted to be anywhere else.
“Wait, stop!”
Nandor’s head shot up. Guillermo hesitated?
Derek pulled back. “Oh, what?”
“Sorry,” Guillermo said. “Have you done this before?”
Derek scoffed, though his eyes avoided Guillermo’s. “Yeah. Tons of ti—like, many dozens of times.”
“Heard that one before, haven’t we?” Nadja laughed, slapping Laszlo’s arm.
“The boy’s an absolute virgin, no question,” Laszlo agreed.
Nandor ignored them, watching the screen.
“Yeah, no, I haven’t,” Derek was admitting. “No, um. Have you?”
Guillermo’s expression would have been amusing any other time.
“Why doesn’t Andy just do this?”
“Who?” Guillermo asked.
“Your master.”
The faint air of levity drained from the room. Nandor felt all eyes subtly glance at him again, but his were locked on Guillermo’s.
“You mean Nandor?” Guillermo said, expression carefully neutral.
Derek blathered something else, but Nandor’s focus was entirely on his former familiar.
“It’s not like he doesn’t want to,” Guillermo replied defensively. “It’s like he always says he’s gonna get around to it, you know?”
Nandor heard the little downturn of doubt there, but Guillermo immediately continued, “He actually cares about me a lot and he does a lot of really nice things for me.”
There was a strange little twist in Nandor’s stomach. Guillermo had defended him, had faith in him even as he went to another vampire. He didn’t know how to feel about that.
Onscreen, Guillermo glanced at the camera again, almost expectantly, with that little smile and Nandor found himself avoiding his eyes.
An awkward silence drew out.
“Oh, sorry,” Guillermo explained to Derek. “I’m just pausing. It’s for the editors. They insert, probably like a cute montage or something of all the stuff he’s done for me over the years, so it might take a second.”
Nandor perked up slightly, curious to see the moments the director picked. But instead the silence stretched out longer, damningly, as Guillermo waited patiently.
Nandor turned his gaze slowly to the editor.
“Th-This isn’t the finished cut,” the man stammered, swallowing hard.
“Mm-hm.” Nandor hummed, turning back to the screen.
On it, Derek was looking at Guillermo with a more sincere expression. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“Yes,” Guillermo answered immediately, his expression steely and intense. But his eyes flickered, his posture shifting slightly. “No, I still absolutely want to be a vampire.” He stepped back, slumping slightly. “I just didn’t think it would happen like this.”
Nandor flinched at the pang of guilt in his chest.
Guillermo turned away from Derek, facing the camera more as he became lost in thought.
“I don’t know, maybe it’s like deep down inside, my psyche is just telling me I’m really not ready to, like—”
And then Derek was lunging, ripping into Guillermo’s throat as he yelled in shock.
“Hey!” Nandor shouted, stalking toward the screen. “Stop that! He was saying no!”
“Yeah, little bit of a vampire foul there,” Laszlo commented.
Then Nandor’s protests turned to alarm as Guillermo screamed, blood erupting from his throat in an arterial spray that coated the walls.
“Bloody hell!”
“Ugh, absolute amateur,” Nadja grimaced.
“He cocked that up about as hard as you can.” Laszlo shook his head.
Nandor found himself reaching a hand toward the screen, Guillermo’s howls of agony and screamed curses filling the room. A different rage kindled within him. This Derek would pay. This was no longer a transaction; he had attacked Guillermo. Guillermo wasn’t going to do it after all. He was preyed upon.
“Ugh, all that perfectly good Van Helsing blood going to waste,” the Guide complained. “Do you know how much that would go for in the Night Market?”
“Really?” Nadja asked.
“No one’s selling his blood,” Nandor snarled. “And I need a word with that ‘Derek’. Guillermo didn’t betray me! He changed his mind! Derek forced him to become a vampire!”
“Hang on, old chap,” Laszlo nodded to the screen.
Guillermo had calmed himself down somewhat, his hand staunching most of the blood flow. “Okay,” he said, voice steady, if weaker than Nandor had ever heard it. “I gotta drink your blood.”
“Well, he has to now,” Nandor said, gesturing at the storeroom’s new paintjob.
Derek pulled back, holding up his hands. “Ooh. That is gonna be a sticking point for me.”
“What?” all of the vampires said in unison.
“Why is that?” Guillermo asked, barely holding in his rapidly escaping lifeblood.
“Because I’m a bit of a fainter,” Derek simpered. “I have low blood pressure.”
“Oh, boo!” Nadja jeered as Laszlo coughed ‘Bullshit.’ “Skata vampire!”
Nandor’s gaze was fixated to the screen as Guillermo’s eyes again flicked to the nearest camera. Nandor could see the realization of how bad his situation was sinking in. The mistake he had made. His eyes seeking help that wouldn’t come from camera people who couldn’t, maybe even wouldn’t step in. A pang of aching helplessness twinged in Nandor’s chest.
They watched as Derek the Useless began panicking, hyperventilating and Guillermo, one hand still pressed to his neck wound, staggered through the pools of his own blood to irritably get a paper bag and talk Derek through calming himself down.
A familiar to the end, Nandor thought mournfully.
“Honestly, this is the worst vampire porn I’ve ever seen,” the Guide commented, throwing her hands up. “I’m not sure even the freaks would get into this one.”
Nandor tuned her out. His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as he watched Guillermo continue to grow paler and weaker, waiting for Derek to get his shit together.
“You good?” he said at last.
Derek nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
Guillermo nodded with more steel than Nandor expected. “Well, that’s good, ‘cause I haven’t done it yet.”
Derek whined further, daring to not follow through with his side of the deal while Guillermo bled out from his own sloppy bite. Nandor was seeing red as the others made derisive noises until Guillermo actually lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Derek’s arm.
“Ooh,” Nadja arched her eyebrows.
Laszlo gave a cheering laugh. “Hah! Gizmo was already more of a vampire than that asshole!”
“Yes,” Nandor murmured, a little ember of pride warming him. Any normal human shouldn’t have even been upright anymore, let alone still able to fight.
But Guillermo let go, no impact made on Derek’s arm. “It’s really hard to break the skin,” he muttered.
Derek looked around, thinking.
Guillermo’s breathing was becoming more shallow and ragged, his face paler and sweaty. “I’m running out of time here, buddy,” he prompted, an edge of desperation in his feeble voice.
A sound caught in Nandor’s tight throat. He knew Guillermo was still around, had just seen him hours ago, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch Guillermo fading away in front of him.
Derek passed Guillermo a box cutter—“Oh, right, make him do that part too,” Nadja snorted—and had the gall to close his eyes and cringe away. Guillermo, without hesitation, cut a deep line up Derek’s arm. Nandor flashed back to Laszlo, emotionlessly, matter-of-factly gutting the body they thought was Guillermo in the foyer and clenched his fist again.
‘Come on’, Nandor mouthed.
“Did you do it?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, I did, but don’t look because—”
“Don’t look at what?” Derek immediately looked right at the cut and passed the fuck out.
“This isn’t even fun to mock anymore,” Nadja grumbled.
“There’s nothing funny about this,” Laszlo agreed. “It’s bloody shameful.”
Guillermo let Derek slump back, wasting no more time as he grabbed the vampire’s arm and fed hungrily from it. As if he was starving for blood already.
Or the dream it promised.
Guillermo sat back, falling to his knees, and Nandor found his eyes tracing the features of his face, steeped in glistening blood.
“The deed is done,” Guillermo said, dramatic as ever. “The die is cast. There’s no turning—”
Guillermo choked suddenly, his head jerking back as a spasm wracked through him, then lurching to his hands and knees with pained noises. Nandor frowned in worried confusion.
Guillermo gave one more gurgled sound, then collapsed, keeling over to lie still in the pool of his own blood.
“Huh,” Nadja said in the silence that followed.
“That was bloody quick.” Laszlo was frowning too, brow creased with intrigue. “Never seen a turning take effect so fast. You, my darling?”
“No. Are we sure he didn’t just die?”
Nandor’s eyes were glued to the screen, burning into the image of Guillermo’s lifeless form. Come on. Come on…
“Derek.” The accursed boss entered again, still oblivious to the importance of the scene he was interrupting. “Toilet again.”
As the boss walked out, Derek jerked back to consciousness, likewise clueless. “Oh. Okay, sorry dude, I gotta go take care of this.”
He noticed Guillermo’s condition for the first time and, to his credit, moved to help. “Oh shit. Dude? Dude?”
Nandor released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as Guillermo suddenly seized back into consciousness with a rasping gasp. As the camera zoomed in, Nandor saw again the face he had seen the night before. Guillermo, ashen as the grave, but eyes blazing vampiric red and gold.
“Stop,” Nandor commanded.
The editor paused the video, freezing the newly-turned Guillermo for all to see.
“Well, that was a thing,” Laszlo said, taking a long swig from his glass.
“I guess that counts as a turning?” Nadja said. “I mean, Guillermo did most of the work himself, but...”
“It was a disgrace,” Nandor muttered.
The others went quiet again.
“It definitely wasn’t normal, that’s sure as shit,” Laszlo said at last. “You know, my money was on the Van Helsing shit in his blood being what was stopping the process from working. Especially since he’d been turned by a weaker vampire instead of one who was older and stronger…”
“Are you implying something?” Nandor rumbled.
“Not enough to derail from my point. Seeing that, though, it was fucked up from the start. Like it skipped right to offing him, then started infecting him. Honestly, I have even less of a fucking clue what’s going on with Gizmo now than when I started.”
Nandor didn’t have the patience to hear his theories right now. “How long ago did this happen?” he asked the director.
“Uh…shortly after Colin Robinson grew up again, so…”
“That was ages ago!” Nandor snapped. “You all hid this from me that long?”
You didn’t notice, in all that time? his mind whispered treacherously.
The others were saying something, the director prattling on some defense, but Nandor just stood, heading for the door again. “I’m going to go have a very long think.”
“Nandor?” Nadja called after him. “You’re not really going to kill us and Guillermo and yourself, are you?”
“I’ll tell you after my think,” he said, pushing past the Guide to leave.
“Well, that’s pretty rude,” he heard the Guide comment behind him.
“I say, old boy, do you have any video from my lady wife’s and my anniversary last month? I think we tried a new position that I’d like to see from another angle.”
Nandor made his way upstairs to the room he had been given for their stay, closing the door behind him. It was mostly made up, his bag of soil neatly placed under his bed, curtains drawn tightly shut, and hairbrush sat on the bedside table, ready for him. But Guillermo would not be there that morning to do their pre-slumber routine.
Nandor paused, then walked over to the door to the closet provided for Guillermo to sleep in. He hesitated, then threw the door open, half-expecting to see Guillermo hiding there, having fled back to their chambers.
But the room was empty. Guillermo’s few belongings sat, still unpacked. Wherever he had gone, he had not returned here first.
Nandor closed the door again, disappointed. He would rather have had the confrontation, a fight—preferably a physical fight—anything except just this absence and anger and hurt.
With no outlet for his emotions, he went to sit down in the room’s plush chair. Here, in privacy and quiet, he could finally fully let the weight of the night’s events settle over him.
Before, his fury had been so clear, his need for revenge absolute. But watching the video, he was no longer able to let that consume him.
Guillermo had betrayed him. And lied to him. But seeing Guillermo in pain was something he could not tolerate.
Especially when he couldn’t silence the little part of his mind that whispered it was, at least a little teeny bit, his fault too.
He had known Guillermo wanted to be a vampire since he started as a familiar. Was it any surprise he had gotten tired of waiting and taken care of it himself? Nandor almost respected it, if it didn’t fill him with such shame.
Guillermo had served him for more than a dozen years. He had become his bodyguard, saved Nandor’s life more times than he could count. And Nandor had not fulfilled the end of the bargain he made. Of course, no vampire ever fulfilled that promise to a familiar, but Guillermo was more than a familiar now. Much more. Which made it hurt worse. Nandor didn’t like feeling things like this.
Nandor couldn’t shake the image of Guillermo, lying in his own blood in the harsh, glaring light of a convenience store, dying from the botched turning bite of a subpar vampire that could barely be bothered to do it. Proud, fearsome Guillermo, who had killed dozens of vampires. Who was bold enough to stand up to his master even before he knew his vampire hunting lineage. Years of service and battle and that was the reward he got. A sad mockery of his dream.
He deserved better. A death worthy of the warrior he had become. A turning that would have acknowledged what an honor it was, how special the transformation he was beginning. Maybe, if he had been a little more patient, he could have eventually had it done properly by Nandor—
But what sign had Nandor given him that that would ever happen? Other than just counting on the undying loyalty a familiar was supposed to provide due to his position? How many times had Nandor and the others laughed at the idea of Guillermo as a vampire?
He had practically pushed Guillermo into Derek’s fangs.
And even then Guillermo had still had second thoughts, was going to probably come to his senses and sneak home to never think of doing such a thing again. But once Derek ripped his throat open, there had been no other choice. Finish the process and become a vampire or die, permanently.
Becoming a vampire meant Guillermo had come back to the house that night. Even once he had what he wanted, however fucked up it was, he had stayed as Nandor’s bodyguard. After learning Nandor would kill him if he found out, he still didn’t run away. He tried to fix it. He stayed.
Until tonight. Nandor looked up at the thick curtains. Guillermo was out there somewhere. Could he still tolerate the sun? Would it burn him now? Nandor hoped he had gotten to some kind of shelter.
Nandor scowled, sitting up more authoritatively. No, he did not want to lose Guillermo again. Thinking the Baron had killed him had driven that home. Guillermo had fucked up badly, but maybe he wasn’t the only one. And Nandor would not accept him simply disappearing that easily, without even so much as an argument. After all, he wasn’t called Nandor the Relentless because he tended to relent.
He would make this right. He wasn’t sure how, yet, or what that meant exactly, but one way or another, he would set it right.