I sat back in my seat, my head turned toward the window as I watched the colors of early autumn swim past. The sky reflected a brilliant blue on Lake Geneva as we rode past. The leaves on the trees we passed were a mix of verdant greens, brilliant yellows, and occasionally darker oranges. I could see a village right on the edge of the lake, the small buildings clustered close together almost right up to the shoreline. In the distance, the Alps rose sharply into the sky, their peaks jagged yet beautiful in their starkness.
Riding the train was much more comfortable than either flying or driving. Not only was the general noise less – especially on the upper level where we had picked to sit – but there was also much more wiggle room in general. Not that someone small as I needed it, but I knew that it made a huge difference to taller people like Michael and Antun.
We were currently heading to Geneva to see the other vampire that Antun had known so long ago – Argir Vasilin. I’d read a little bit about him during breakfast that morning. He had started a luxury biomedical wellness foundation and research center in the countryside just outside of Geneva that specialized in anti-aging and longevity. His clinic, catered to the ultra-wealthy, offered things such as bespoke blood panels, vitality retreats, and experimental cellular therapies.
While I’d ridden the monorail in Seattle, I’d never been on a passenger train that could take someone from one city to another. But my mind wasn’t on the train ride nor the beautiful scenery outside. I was still mulling over everything from yesterday on top of trying not to be too nervous about our next destination. We had scheduled an appointment to speak with Argir at his facility under Michael’s name, not knowing if he’d recognize Antun’s or not and not wanting to scare him off before we had a chance to talk to him.
I took a sip from my paper cup, filled with coffee that was unfairly good for being a travel beverage, and continued my gaze out the window. A hand fell on top of mine and curled around my palm. Michael gave me a look of quiet concern that seemed to ask, what’s up?
What could I even tell him? That I’d had a revelation about my future, or lack thereof? No, this wasn’t the time. I’d tell him, tell all of them, but not while we were using public transportation.
“Sure is pretty, huh?” I posed casually as I looked back toward the window. “I’d never thought in my whole life I’d end up on a train in Switzerland, watching the beautiful scenery go by. This is nothing like the monorail,” I joked, trying to change the look on Michael’s face. His returning smile was tight, like he appreciated the humor but was still worried.
Antun spoke up. “Last time I was in Switzerland was… hmm, well, a very long time ago. And we didn’t have this,” he motioned to the train car around us, “to help us get through those mountains. The weather and terrain, altitude sickness for some, and bandits and mercenaries that called them home, all made for a treacherous journey at the time.” He picked up his coffee. “ This is much preferred,” he hummed as he took a sip of his drink.
Syla slid her phone over to me as she said, “The facility we’re heading to is rather interesting by itself. It used to be a castle and was it was restored, renovated and in the last couple of decades was expanded to include this more modern-looking glass structure.”
Michael finally turned away from me to look at the pictures on the phone. The view was gorgeous, with well-manicured grounds and the lake in the background. The building itself was a mix of old castle and a modern, squared-off glass building attached to it. He swallowed, then looked up at Antun. “So, what’s the plan here? Usually for interviews and such, people don’t go into the room with a whole entourage.”
Antun shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. One thing about rich people? They get away with just about anything, including bringing a contingent with them to appointments. So, bringing in just a few extra people actually probably won’t seem that strange to the staff. If anything, they might be relieved that it’s just the four of us and not a whole party of people.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Four’s a party if you make it one,” Syla teased.
I smiled at her. She had opened up so much in the short amount of time we’d all been together and become a more confident person. It was becoming easier to see how she had been a bootlegger when she was caught by Nikola. Quips like this were becoming more frequent, and I, for one, loved it.
The conductor called the stop for Geneva and we all began to pack up our things that had been out during the trip and finished our coffees so we wouldn’t need to take them with or leave them behind. The coffee here was just different in the sweetest way, and it would be a shame to waste a single drop.
We got off at the train station and hailed a cab at the curb out front. The castle was just outside a village about twenty minutes north-east of the city. As we approached the gates, I saw a sign that read Domaine de l’Axe Clos.
What does that mean, I wondered for only the briefest moment.
Antun murmured under his breath, “ Domain of the Closed Axis. Huh, sounds like an old family estate name, I wonder if that’s what the castle was called before Argir got it.” The car pulled up to the front, and Antun spoke to the driver for a moment. The man drove over to the parking lot, parked the car, and immediately leaned his seat back and closed his eyes.
I looked over at Antun, wondering what on earth that was about.
“Told him I’d pay for the time he waited for us as well. He seemed more than happy to take up the offer,” he offered.
That seemed to explain things well enough, and I left it at that, turning toward the glass portion of the building where a sign read The Vasilin Institute for Longevity Medicine above the double-door entry. I felt Michael’s hand slip into mine as he stepped to my side. I looked up at him, the set of his jaw telling me he was already focused on the task ahead.
We entered the building, the desk and furniture in the reception area were made with bleached oak and fine, light green upholstery. We got checked in with the receptionist, and before we had a chance to sit in the waiting room, Michael’s name was called. He looked surprised at the rest of us, our faces matching his. Why can’t it always be that fast at a doctor’s office?
We followed the nurse to a spacious room. “The doctor will be in with you shortly. He asked that you wait in his office,” the nurse explained before stepping back out. “Would anyone care for some refreshments while you wait?”
We all graciously declined. I didn’t know about everyone else, but the coffee from the train was suddenly not sitting very well in my stomach as my nerves began to surface. Michael, with his own nervous energy, stood up and began to slowly pace in the room. Syla stood as well, going over to the floor-to-ceiling window and admiring the vineyards that stretched beyond the property as she fiddled with her thread bracelet. I stayed sitting, my knee bouncing and fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of my jacket sleeves. Antun seemed the least affected, although I could tell from the look in his eye that he wasn’t sure what to expect either.
The theme of the place seemed to be to make everything as bright and near to white as possible. The cabinetry in this room matched the bleached oak seen throughout the space we’d seen so far, but the main desk in the office was a slightly darker shade of wood, lending a natural sort of variety to the space. As natural as stark geometric corners could be, anyway.
On one wall behind his desk were his framed diplomas in medicine and business. There was also a framed letter with the man’s signature at the bottom of the page. That’s odd, I thought. That big swirl doesn’t look anything like an A or a V. Doctors all have the worst handwriting.
The handle rattled and the door opened. A sharp-featured, inscrutable man with a lean, athletic build and a white doctor’s coat strode in pausing for less than a heartbeat. Did he recognize Antun? Should some of us have waited outside? The surprise didn’t even have a chance to blossom into expression. Before I could formulate any other questions, he continued his stride into the room, closing the door behind him gently.
I knew that his stoicism was not the absence of emotion, but the control of it. It was eerie, how quickly he regained control, but I had to remind myself, Innocent until proven otherwise. He has literally done nothing to arouse my suspicions. If anything, it shows he’s disciplined, not dangerous.
Walking straight up to Michael, he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Anderson. I am Dr. Argir Vasilin. Who might all of your companions be?” he asked, his gaze completely skipping over Antun.
I was about to step forward when Syla surprised me by beating me to the punch. “My name is Syla Tanner.” She stuck her hand out, and it was as still as glass.
Whoa, who are you and what have you done with our shy little Syla? You go girl! I cheered for her in my head for only a second before introducing myself with a handshake. “I’m Drew Nelson, sir.”
Antun stuck his hand out, and I imagined the room holding its breath. “Remember me?”
It was probably only milliseconds, but it felt like forever waiting for his response. He grasped Antun’s hand and shook it firmly. “It’s been a long time, Antun. It was Morina, right? Antun Morina?”
Antun returned the shake and sat down, his eyes never leaving the man as he walked around the desk to a simple yet lux swivel chair. Instead of confirming it, Antun sat back down.
Argir spoke up, “I had thought that this meeting was a simple interview, though I see now that that is not the case. Please, everyone sit. We may as well be comfortable for whatever this is.”
Sitting behind the short coffee table, I sat beside Michael, and Syla sat on his other side. Antun’s chair was to the side of the couch, facing the beautiful view out the giant window-wall. So far, Argir seemed like a rather sensible man to me, but for all intents and purposes, Nikola had been like that to many. I’m keeping you under scrutiny for now, as much as I hate to call it that. I glanced at Antun, his body tense but not alarmed. Whatever this is, Antun doesn’t seem to think there’s any immediate danger. I took a steadying breath as I returned my gaze to Argir.
“I see the years have treated you kindly as well, Antun. You look just the same as you did back when you were Davor’s favorite,” Argir stated.
“I was never his favorite,” Antun argued. “He was obsessed with his experiments. The closest thing I think one could unfortunately call me was his assistant, though he probably saw me more as a lackey.”
“I meant no offense. All I meant was that you look well.” Argir wasn’t at all bothered, his words seeming to say more than just an apology. “ Vazhdimi nuk është gjithmonë mëshirë. ”
Antun had already been sitting still but hearing a language from his past had made him go rigid.
“‘Continuation is not always mercy,’” Argir translated at my questioning face. “Anyway, welcome to Domaine de l’Axe Clos. The estate has been… in the family for centuries and I’ve been lucky enough to be able to turn it into this. Now I can give back to those who help me.”
In the family. He must mean this has been his estate for centuries. I wonder when he got here, but…
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Those who help you?”
Argir gave me a smile that I couldn’t quite read, but it wasn’t sinister. “How do you feed, Ms. Nelson.”
I flinched. Would I ever be able to hear that version of my name without having a visceral reaction? “Just Drew, please. And…” I looked at Antun, unsure what I should say.
He just shrugged, his brows raised as if he was saying, We can’t ask him to trust if we don’t, too.
I cleared my throat. “Mostly its slaughterhouse blood, but I also hunt bad people in the alleys of the city. And Antun and Syla have started teaching Michael and I how to hunt animals for their blood, too.”
Argir nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “Maintaining the secret isn’t always easy, is it? But secrecy is needed. Not because what we are doing is violent, but because what we are would bring hysteria.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully. “So, I built a life where nothing I did required explanation. No missing people. No injuries. No patterns that force questions.” He folded his hands, the gesture almost priestly.
“I stopped feeding the way people imagine monsters feed. I placed myself inside systems that already move blood quietly – legally – constantly. Clinics. Trials. Private donors who give more in a month than I ever take.”
He looked straight at me. “Everyone involved consents. No one is weakened. No one is hunted. I chose that deliberately.” A beat of quiet. “Secrecy wasn’t about avoiding responsibility. It was about avoiding harm – the kind that comes from fear, exposure, and people trying to destroy what they don’t understand.”
His voice remained level. “I kept my life arranged so that nothing I needed left a mark.” He paused again, leaning forward onto his elbows on the desk. “I adapted. Survival doesn’t have to be cruel. It just has to be careful.”
Michael cleared his throat, making Argir turn toward him. “If you don’t mind us getting right to the point, have you by chance heard about what happened recently in Seattle with a vampire named Nikola Sokoli?” His hand on my knee was cool and grounding.
“No, I haven’t. Nikola Sokoli, was he a more recently turned vampire? Not that I know many other vampires, I just haven’t heard of him. Please, continue,” Argir said, his fingers threaded loosely together on his desk as he sat calmly behind it.
“We all were at the attack when it happened,” Michael continued, his eyes drifting to me. “Nikola compelled a whole crowd of vampires to turn on the populace. He even compelled us to not fight back.” His mouth quirked up in a small, proud smile. “Drew was the one who fought him and managed to kill him.”
Argir turned surprised eyes at me. “That is quite a feat, it sounds like this Nikola had become quite powerful.”
Antun’s eyes were slightly narrowed as if trying to decide exactly what information he could let spill. “You remember Davor’s apotheosis experiments, I’m sure.”
“How could I not? It’s thanks to his attempts that I’m still here, after all.” His words may have had a sense of gratitude to them, but something in his tone read that his past with Davor was not all that simple.
“Well, Nikola managed to ascend before Drew killed him.”
The doctor’s gaze swung back to me with surprise, but he said nothing. Feeling uncomfortable, I mentioned, “Well, he killed me first. Fair is fair, after all.”
Argir gave a small chuckle at the last part. “So, Nikola is your sire then?” he asked.
I shook my head and glanced at Michael. “It was Michael who turned me. He saved me, I wouldn’t be anywhere if it wasn’t for him.”
“What do you mean by that?” Argir asked, his tone gently inquired.
How much do I say? I suppose if we’re asking for information, it only makes sense that we give some back in return. “Nikola stole my reincarnation energy to ascend. Michael turned me just as I died.”
“It sounds like you’ve gone through a lot. You’re very lucky,” the doctor responded, nodding at Michael, “that he turned you when he did. Otherwise, you’d be floating around in purgatory.”
