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BACK TO FRASER'S FRACTURED FICTION Mistress Estellaby A. Fraser
© Copyright 2003 A. Fraser. All rights reserved.
Francis was not a happy vampire. Bound with duct tape, tied with three-inch
thick ropes, kicked and beaten, and thrust into a solid steel cage; all by a vampire
whom he had never previously met. He knew that sometimes he upset other
vampires with his insouciant attitude, but this was ridiculous.
After what seemed like hours and hours of uncomfortable captivity, he heard the
bolts being drawn off the cage door. It was flung open and his captor entered.
Francis was once more lifted by the handiest length of rope and carried back out
of his prison. He was taken back to the "office". The rope and duct tape were
removed, not gently.
"We shall try this again," said the abductor. "In a more civilized fashion. There
is no use in your attempting to escape. I am faster and stronger than you."
Francis did not doubt this, as he had good cause to verify it. He massaged his
abused legs. "No more hitting," he said.
"I make no promises, boy."
"And don't call me boy!"
His captor raised a hand, then dropped it. "What is your name, then?"
"Francis Calvert. What's yours?"
"Rigo Smith." His captor looked at him. "There, we are civilized now."
"Rigo Smith," Francis repeated. He was feeling so disoriented that he decided it
was best just to play whatever game this madman was directing. "What do you
want of me, Rigo Smith?"
"You will tell me why you went to visit Estella a second time."
"She wouldn't read for me the first time I went," Francis answered. It was the
truth. "So I went back tonight to talk to her, to find out why she hates
vampires." That wasn't entirely the truth, but it could have been. Once he'd
finished discussing the importance of not upsetting his friends, he might have
steered the conversation in that direction.
"I don't believe you."
Francis dared a shrug. "She told me I have no future, because I'm dead. I
thought that warranted a second visit."
Rigo was studying him very closely, and Francis was glad that he could no longer
sweat. He was not precisely lying; it was sin by omission.
"The man you were with last night," said Francis' captor, "he was not a
vampire."
"No. He's just a friend. He's no part in this."
"You are protecting him."
"Because he's mortal, and I don't want a pissed-off vampire beating him up."
"Estella read for him." Rigo's dark eyes, with their hint of hellfire, burned into
Francis' innocent blue orbs. "I could sense you both, in that tent last night. I
was nearby, for I could smell another vampire and I had to protect Estella. Your
friend puzzled me. He is not an ordinary mortal."
"He's no part in this," Francis repeated.
Ray Griffin pushed his empty glass aside and gave Estella a hard, swift look that
she could not quite interpret. This strange, thin man in black with his multitude
of scars and barely suppressed cynicism was a total mystery to her. There
weren't many total mysteries to someone with the Sight. The glimpses she'd had
from the reading she'd done for him had all been horrific. He had suffered much,
paying for the power that radiated from him in ways she shuddered to think of.
She didn't have to touch Michael Fairlawn to know that he was a healer, had a
touch of the Sight, and was completely in tune with the Earth and the Mother
Goddess, no matter which name he used for her. She liked him already.
"Anything else?" The waitress appeared at the table, removing the empty glasses
and the plate of appetizers.
"Nothing else for me," said Estella with a smile.
Ray just shook his head, and Michael also said he needed nothing else. The
waitress returned with their bill.
"Take your time," she assured them.
Michael paid, ignoring objections. "Estella," he said, returning their attention to
the matter of Francis and Uncle Rigo, "perhaps you do not know where your
uncle hides out, but you must at least know how he travels."
"He has a van," Estella nodded. "Just a plain dark blue panel van that nobody
would notice. He has a solid steel cage that he carries in the back; it serves him
both as a safe place during daylight and as a cage should he need to hold
someone prisoner."
"Is he in the habit of taking prisoners?"
Her nod was not a happy one. "He is careful to never be seen, and to take those
who will not be missed, or at least not immediately. Especially other vampires.
He hates other vampires. That is why I called you," she nodded to Ray. "I don't
like vampires, either, but I couldn't let Uncle Rigo hurt your friend."
"Do you think he's going to kill Francis?" Ray asked. His anxiety crept into his
voice.
"I don't know," Estella replied. "If he thinks that Francis was going to hurt me,
probably, yes."
"I need to go home and get my cards," Ray said, standing up. "I'll try to contact
Francis. He might be able to tell me where he is, or perhaps I can get a feeling
from the Trump."
"Cards?" Estella was looking at him. "Trump? You use the Tarot?"
"Not as you know it," Ray answered. "I have cards with pictures of people I
know on them; they are all called Trumps. I can use them to contact the person;
although it doesn't always work."
"That's serious magic."
"Serious is the only kind of magic I know."
"What about Francis' Harley?" Michael asked. "It's parked at the fair, and
someone will call the police about it if it's still there in the morning."
"Drop me off at the fair parking lot, and I'll drive the Harley home," Ray said.
"Nobody will think twice about seeing me with it; they all know Francis and I are
friends. If anyone does question me, I'll come up with some story."
Michael looked at Estella. "I'll follow Ray, so that I'm there if he locates
Francis and we can get on the road right away. What did you want to do?"
She bit her lip, thinking it over. "I want to go with you when you find out where
Francis is. I might be the only one who can control my uncle."
"All right," Michael nodded.
"You'd better clear this with Mary," Ray reminded his friend.
"Good point." Michael went off to use the inn's phone.
Estella and Ray were left alone together. They got up from the table and made
their way to the door, waiting for Michael to get off the phone.
"He's very nice, Michael, " Estella commented, for something to say.
"Salt of the earth," Ray agreed.
"Michael's not his real name, though."
"No, but he doesn't like his real name to be used."
Estella nodded. Real names had power. "Is his wife like him?"
Ray pondered how to answer that. "She's very nice," he finally answered, "if
that's what you mean. If you mean does she have any magical abilities, then the
answer is no."
"So, she's mortal, and he is not." Estella spoke this so softly that Ray barely
heard it.
"You are too perceptive for your own good," Ray said.
"So I've been told."
Estella regretted this answer, as it made Ray lapse into silence. Michael rejoined
them to find them both studying the decor of the bar area, studiously avoiding
looking at each other.
"Let's get going," he said.
They walked out to Michael's car. He sighed as he opened his door and a candy
wrapper flew out. "It's Galen's job to clean out the car," he said, shaking his
head. "I guess I need to remind him of that."
"How old is Galen?" Estella asked, glad to have something to say, glad to not
have to look at Ray.
"Thirteen," Michael grimaced. "We've hit the teen years once again. He has a
twin sister, and I have a twenty-four year old daughter as well."
"Twins are lucky," Estella said.
"They'll be lucky to see fourteen," Michael said, but he laughed. "No, they're
really good kids, actually," he confessed. "Mary says I'm too soft on them."
She didn't ask Ray if he had a wife or children. She had seen the answer already
in his palm.
Rigo glared down at Francis, but the younger vampire stood his ground. He
would not be beaten or intimidated into saying anything about Ray specifically or
the Brotherhood in general.
"Estella is my niece," Rigo said. "I have made myself her protector. Those with
the Sight are vulnerable. All sorts want to use them, prey on them, make them
See things best left hidden. So all things that concern Estella concern me. Do
you understand?"
"Yes," Francis nodded.
"Then why do you not understand that I need to know why you went to see her
tonight? It is a serious thing, for a vampire to visit my niece."
"I just wanted to talk to her, to see why she wouldn't give me a reading."
"That lie is growing old, boy."
"I told you not to call me boy."
Rigo swore at him in a language Francis didn't understand; then knocked him to
the ground with a fist that moved so fast it was just a blur. He picked Francis up
before the young man had time to recover, and carried him bodily back to the
cage. Francis was thrown in and bars drawn across the doors.
"Stay and rot there until you decide on the truth!" he heard Rigo's voice taunt.
"Well, this sucks shit," Francis said.
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