She had mentioned something called an alkathon, meetings around the clock to fortify sobriety over the holidays. People who might be tempted to drink at parties they were obligated to attend knew there was always a meeting they could get to—but the holidays hadn’t started yet. It wasn’t even Halloween.
He wished he knew her sponsor’s phone number. He’d ask for that as soon as this infuriating wait was over.
Had she mentioned going out of town and he forgot about it? Not likely. He would have had to arrange coverage for her at work the next day.
He snapped his fingers. “Sadie.” Maybe the psychic could give him some clues about what was going on. After all, she’d known Claudia was in trouble shortly after the fire.
He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, quickly checked for messages, and upon finding none, called his niece.
She answered sleepily.
“Did I wake you, Sadie?”
“Yes, but don’t worry about it. I can tell something’s got you upset. What’s wrong?”
“Claudia’s missing.”
After a long pause, Sadie said. “Where are you?”
“At her apartment. Can you tell if she’s in trouble?”
“I wish I could say she’s out with friends having a good time, but I’m not getting that sense. I’ll get dressed and come over.”
“Crap. You don’t have to do that if you can tell me where to look.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, but you might.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think Ruxandra could have something to do with it?”
Sadie had just voiced Anthony’s worst fear.
His voice shook. “I don’t know where her lair is. Otherwise I’d be there right now.”
“I’m coming over. Maybe we can find it together.”
“Thanks, Sadie, but let me come to you. I don’t want you walking around alone at this time of night.” He dashed down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. Fortunately, she didn’t live far.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“It’ll take me less than a minute.”
“Well, don’t fly. I have to get dressed and splash some water on my face.”
“Too late. I’m standing outside your building.”
Sadie let him in, but she was still wearing her bathrobe. “You know I can’t actually locate people unless I have something that belongs to them, right?”
“You have me. I belong to her.”
Sadie gave him a sad look. “Oh, Anthony. I’m so sorry.” She balled her fists. “If Ruxandra found a way to grab her, I’ll…I’ll… Well, I don’t know what I’d do, but maybe you can wring her neck for both of us.”
Anthony ground his teeth. “She’ll pay. Believe me. Do you know where her lair is? Or can you tell me for sure that Ruxandra has Claudia?”
“I’m not sure I can tell you much of anything, but I’ll try. Let me get my cards.”
Sadie left the room, and Anthony dropped onto the sofa. He hadn’t been to Sadie’s place in a long time. Maybe a year. It was small and neat, despite a lot of things. Crystals, candles, vases, books, figurines… He had no idea what most of them were for. Maybe just decoration.
He reflected on the first time he’d had tea with her here, and his whole sordid history had come out. He had just mentioned her dear, departed lover Dmitri, and then he found out she knew more about the vampire world than he’d ever have dreamed.
Surprised then at the depth of her knowledge, he’d asked, “How did you know all that?”
Sadie chuckled. “You have to ask?”
Anthony squinted at his aunt. “What else do you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know about my history?”
“Only what Dmitri told me.”
He nodded and relaxed. Dmitri was his friend and wouldn’t tell her anything Anthony wouldn’t want her to know.
“Oh! You mean that Salem debacle?” Sadie asked.
Anthony hung his head. “Ah, yeah. That.”
She slid her hand across the table carefully, reaching for his. He didn’t deserve compassion for what he’d done, but the kindness she offered shouldn’t be ignored. He took her hand and she squeezed his.
“That wasn’t your fault, Anthony. It was the fault of the one who made you a vampire.”
“I—I know. But I made it worse.”
“What happened? I don’t know the exact details.”
Anthony hesitated. It might be good to talk about the incident. He hadn’t shared the details with anyone. Not even Dmitri.
“In the late 1600s, I came to Boston from England as an indentured servant. I worked my prescribed number of years and earned my freedom from my employer.”
“So this city is familiar to you.”
He smiled. “Not at all. None of what existed then looks like it does today. This was a small settlement on the banks of a river with the sea nearby. A few boats in the harbor, green grass, and some rolling hills were all you’d notice. Although Boston Common was there and used as grazing space for the cows. All the structures have been replaced. When I arrived from New Orleans a couple months ago, I felt as if I’d never been here before.”
She nodded. “So, how did you get to Salem?”
“The same way everyone got around back then. By horse. I was lucky and had a good master. My skill was animal husbandry, so I worked in the stables. When it was time for me to go, I asked if I might work for him a little longer and earn enough to buy a horse. He allowed it but let me know he would only sell me an older mare. It was enough. Once I had the horse, I made my way to a settlement I had heard about a little farther north—Salem.
“I lived there, working with the horses the well-to-do townspeople owned. Eventually, I was able to procure a few more and began selling them.” He smiled sardonically. “I was the used-car salesman of the time.”
Sadie smiled but didn’t say anything, probably so he’d continue telling his story.
“Back then in 1692, Salem was divided into two distinct parts: Salem Town and Salem Village. The village was actually part of Salem but was set apart by its economy and class. Residents of Salem Village were mostly poor farmers. Salem Town, on the other hand, was a prosperous port town at the center of trade with London. Most of those living in Salem Town were wealthy merchants. I tried to straddle the divide and get along with both classes, so I saw firsthand what was happening.
“For many years, Salem Village tried to gain independence from Salem Town. The town, which depended on the farmers for food, determined crop prices and collected taxes from the village. The dividing line was Ipswich Road.
“Those who, like myself, lived near Ipswich Road were close to the commerce of Salem Town and became merchants, blacksmiths, carpenters, and innkeepers. We prospered and supported the economic changes taking place. But many of the farmers who lived far from the prosperity believed the worldliness and affluence of Salem Town threatened their Puritan values. Their children weren’t even allowed to play with toys. That was considered idleness. All their time had to be spent doing chores or reading the Bible.
“Tensions became worse when Salem Village selected Reverend Samuel Parris as their new minister. Parris was a stern Puritan who denounced the worldly ways and economic prosperity of Salem Town as the influence of the devil. Suddenly, the devil was seen everywhere. If there was a smallpox outbreak that wiped out a family, it was the work of the devil. If the crops died or livestock got sick, somebody must have been practicing witchcraft and calling on the devil to make those things happen.
“A man who had just come off a ship one night asked to see me about buying a horse. A merchant I knew well introduced us, so I had no reason to be suspicious. I took a lantern and showed him my horses. My merchant friend decided to get home to his family and left. When I was alone in the stable with that…vampire, as I now know he was, he grasped me tightly and sank his fangs into my neck.