THE VETERAN GIUSEPPE

As they entered the classroom the next evening, the young vampires were surprised to find the venerable Giuseppe seated on a reclining bed in front of the lectern. He raised his bony hand and waved them to take their seats. Anything was better than hours with the Letizia and Umberto siblings, whom they now simply referred to as the tormentors among themselves. However, Alisa was a bit disappointed that their defense training seemed to have been postponed for the day.

The old vampire cleared his throat. "I want to talk to you about politics. Politics—not just those of humans." He chuckled softly. "Ah, the astonishment in the seats before me. You're wondering what this has to do with you, aren't you? More than you think. A good politician studies his opponents carefully to assess his chances and the dangers. Who do you think is our greatest opponent?" The venerable looked around. Some shrugged.

"Now, Fernand? What do you think?" he asked the sturdy young vampire from Paris.

Fernand took his time to answer, stroking his rat's belly in the meantime. "Humans," he finally said. Some of the classmates laughed.

"Can you explain that to us?" the venerable Giuseppe asked.

"It's obvious. We are the hunters, and they are our prey. Naturally, they don't like that, so they are our enemies. There are vampire hunters among them who turn the tables and hunt us down to destroy us," Fernand said, in what felt like an immensely long speech for him, and then fell silent, exhausted.

Giuseppe turned to the beautiful Dracas beside him. "Marie Luise, if Fernand is right, then surely not all humans are equally dangerous to us. Who is our worst enemy?"

"The vampire hunters, as Fernand already said."

"Hm, any other opinions?"

"The Pope!" Chiara interjected. "It's him who tells his cardinals and bishops to persecute and destroy us."

"Assuming he even knows about us and believes in our existence," Malcolm countered.

"But of course he does! The Church has always fought against us," Mervyn argued.

Malcolm nodded. "That's true, but not everyone believes anymore that we really exist. They want to explain everything with their new sciences." He grinned. "And I don't think Darwin mentioned us in his theory of the origin of species."

"Just as the Bible doesn't list us as a species—neither created by God nor by Lucifer!" Mervyn objected. "And yet, everyone in Ireland knows about our existence."

The venerable raised his thin arm, over which the skin stretched like parchment. "Ah, what a heated debate. I like that. But there's one group you haven't mentioned yet." He waited. Then he simply said one word: "Vampires!" It echoed in the hall and then faded away. The young vampires of the six clans fell silent in surprise. Some exchanged questioning glances.

"Yes, think about it. Why are you here? Would you have dreamed of this a few months ago? What did you think of the other families? What stories and rumors do you tell about the other clans? Do you say they are far beneath you? Are they vengeful and evil? Worthy of being wiped out?"

"Well, for good reason," Franz Leopold whispered behind Alisa, but the venerable had heard it too.

"For good reason? Well, maybe. I know the proud Dracas family, and I have faced a member of a foreign clan in battle for life or destruction more than once in my long life. And by doing so, I, too, became an enemy of vampires, because I have contributed with my own hands to exterminating our species! And so have you, if instead of helping each other and sharing your strengths, you pursue and fight each other with suspicion. Perhaps today you mock and beat each other, but in a few years? Will you then march out with a sword in hand to cut out each other's hearts and behead each other?" The students stared at him. Some seemed almost in shock. "Anyone who works against their family head and against the community of clans is the greatest enemy of us vampires!"

He paused and leaned back in his reclining bed. His cheeks appeared sunken. He closed his eyes. The speech had exhausted him. The young vampires began to whisper tentatively to each other, then the voices swelled more and more until the old man suddenly sat up again, surveying them with his sharp gaze.

"I want you to write an essay about the history of vampire hunting. You'll be amazed at how much can be gathered on this topic. And you'll be surprised at how often we ourselves have brought ruin upon our kind over the centuries, thus playing into the hands of humans. And now go. I'll give you the rest of the night off." He rose and shuffled out with dragging steps.

"What are we supposed to write?" groaned Luciano, staring at his blank sheet. The three of them sat with a few other young vampires in the common room. Malcolm entered with a few books under his arm and found a free seat.

"Were you in the library? I heard it's well-equipped," asked Alisa. Malcolm shook his head.

Luciano looked up from his sheet. "Leandro doesn't let anyone into the library. The Conte would have to stand right beside him and threaten to pluck out every single one of his carefully guarded hairs."

"What? But the venerable Giuseppe said I could go in," Alisa exclaimed. Disappointment washed over her. She had been looking forward to quietly browsing through the old collections, hoping they weren't all in Italian or Latin! In the past few weeks, she had tried several times to find the librarian, but he was usually away in the hours after class.

Luciano waved it off. "What he says. His mind is getting more and more confused. Not for nothing did he have to relinquish leadership of the family to his grandson Claudio a few dozen years ago. It didn't go quite peacefully back then, I assure you. A few members disappeared and never resurfaced on both sides."

"But I got the impression he was on Conte Claudio's side," Alisa said, surprised.

Luciano nodded. "Yes, by now he is. After he had come to terms with being one of the Venerables, it happened quickly. Now he's his grandson's most fervent supporter and would probably defend him and his decisions with fire and sword."

"Nice image," remarked Alisa, trying to imagine the old, gaunt Giuseppe in armor on a warhorse. It rather turned out to be a sad Don Quixote.

She glanced at one of the titles Malcolm had in front of him on the table. "What are these books then if they're not from the library?"

"They belong to Vincent. I had to swear to him on my head that I'd handle them carefully and not hand them over. But you can take a look inside if it helps," he generously offered.

"Oh, I remember, you said your impure companion collects vampire and other horror literature," Alisa said, moving closer.

"He has three full coffins of them!" Malcolm flipped through a book and began writing.

"I'd love to see them," Alisa whispered longingly to Ivy. "Do you think he'd show them to us?"

Ivy ran her fingers through her silver locks. "I have no doubt. He'll be persuaded."

Alisa smiled. "Good, then let's go find him."

They first went to the sleeping chambers and then to the servants' quarters, but there they only found the three coffins with their valuable contents.

"I'm itching to take a peek inside!" Alisa ran her palms over the gleaming polished wood.

"I suspect that wouldn't sit well with him," Ivy remarked.

"No, I don't think so either. But where could he be?"

"Seymour will track him down in a few moments!"

"Good idea! A wolf is a wonderful thing." Alisa beamed. She handed Ivy a piece of paper and her new steel pen.

"At times," Ivy muttered, scribbling a short note. She folded the paper and held it out to Seymour. He growled and snapped so fiercely at the note that he almost bit Ivy's fingers. Then he ran off.

"What's wrong with him?" Alisa asked, surprised. "You'd think he's in a bad mood today."

"He's a man," Ivy grumbled. "Doesn't that explain his moods?"

Alisa grinned. "Oh yes, I hadn't thought of it like that."

They didn't have to wait long before Seymour returned. He still seemed annoyed, as far as Alisa could tell.

Shortly afterward, Vincent burst into the chamber. He had red-blond hair and a still childish body. "What are you doing with my books?" he exclaimed in his bright voice.

"Nothing!" said Alisa, pointing to the closed coffins. "We haven't touched them! We were told that you've assembled a unique collection of books about vampires and other creatures of the night, and we wanted to ask you if you'd let us take a look at your treasures. We'll definitely handle them with care."

"Did you wash your hands?"

Alisa thought that was a bit much, but Ivy refrained from smiling and showed him her clean palms. "But of course! We don't want to dirty your books."

Vincent nodded satisfactorily and lifted the first coffin down. It was an astonishing sight. He could barely grasp it with his thin arms, yet the weight seemed to be of no concern to him, and he had already gently placed it on the floor before the girls could even offer to help. Vincent solemnly opened the lid.

"Here you will find everything your heart desires. From Robert Southey and Samuel T. Coleridge to the famous poem by Goethe, 'The Bride of Corinth.' But also William Blake, Edgar Allan Poe, the Brontë sisters, and Shelley, Coleridge, and our revered Lord Byron. He signed the book himself for me!"

Alisa and Ivy leaned over the books, picking up one or the other. "May I read 'The Monk' by Matthew Gregory Lewis?" Alisa asked.

Vincent hesitated, then nodded. "If you promise to handle it extremely carefully."

"But of course!"

"Then I could also recommend 'Frankenstein' by Shelley and 'Melmoth the Wanderer' by Charles Robert Maturin."

"Thank you, but I already have 'Frankenstein,'" Alisa said with a certain pride. Vincent handed her the other two volumes, which she gratefully accepted.

"You also have some French authors," Ivy remarked. "Charles Nodier, Prosper Mérimée, and the Comte de Lautréamont. I read French as easily as English. However, I struggle with German. So, that's more for you, Alisa," she said, pointing to a stack by authors E.T.A. Hoffmann and Heinrich Heine.

Luciano wandered into the chamber. "You're still busy with the books."

"Yes, what a treasure trove!" Ivy beamed at Vincent. He seemed barely older than Tammo, but Malcolm had told them he was at least four hundred years old. Now Vincent looked a bit unhappy as they dug through the treasures of his second coffin.

"Oh, look what's this?" Alisa exclaimed, holding up a thin booklet titled 'Varney the Vampire, or the Feast of Blood.' "There must be more than a hundred."

Vincent took the booklet from her hand as if it were a particularly precious gem. "There are more than a hundred! This one is from eighteen forty-seven. I have the complete series. It was published weekly. Varney offers the avid reader dark horror, thrilling hunts, and satisfaction of carnal desires - at least in his imagination. Every week, the whole truth about us vampires for - as you would say - a penny. A real bargain!"

It was a bit strange. The bright childlike voice and angelic face didn't match the old-fashioned, educated manner of speaking.

"And, have you found anything for our essay?" Luciano asked. He seemed uninterested in the novels.

"An essay?" Vincent asked interestedly. "About what?"

"About vampires hunting vampires," Luciano replied, making a face.

"In that case, I would suggest going to the library. You'll find interesting material there. From the beginning! I would personally love to own some of those pieces. If you have any questions, I'm, of course, at your disposal with my extensive knowledge!" He bowed politely but briskly closed his coffins.

"You were here in the Domus Aurea in the library?" Luciano asked incredulously.

"But of course!"

"Then we'll go in too," Luciano said, striding away energetically. Alisa and Ivy followed him.

"He didn't ask Vincent whether he was snooping around with or without the librarian's knowledge," Ivy remarked.

Alisa didn't respond. She looked around in amazement. They hadn't been in this part of the Domus Aurea yet. The rooms east and north of the octagonal hall, where important receptions and festivities were held, belonged to the Venerables. They peeked into some rooms as they passed by, seeing faces they hadn't encountered here before. Most of the old vampires were sitting in small groups, chatting. Others, however, were alone, staring gloomily ahead. At the end of the wing, where the rooms led to a second courtyard, which was almost completely buried, the Conte had had the library set up. Today, the door wasn't locked, and they could make out a figure inside. They approached the vampire who was sitting behind a curved desk. Perhaps the dainty piece of furniture made him seem even larger, but he was a bear of a man with a broad chest, muscular arms and legs, and a bull neck. His hair was still black and shimmered in the light of a small oil lamp on the wall. A highly unusual guardian of old books!

He stood up as he noticed them and approached them. "What are you doing here?" he asked, not unkindly.

Alisa overwhelmed him with her enthusiasm for books and mentioned the task given by the venerable Giuseppe. "Besides, the venerable promised weeks ago to ask you to show me the books."

"Well, I guess he forgot," Leandro said firmly. Before Alisa could further insist, they heard voices approaching. Agitated voices!

"I don't need to listen to you. I've listened to this nonsense long enough."

"Don't you dare speak to me like that! I won't tolerate it any longer. You're rebellious and trying to incite others against me! I know you've spoken to some. The decision has been made, and it's good for all of us, so stay in your place and stop stirring up trouble in the Domus Aurea. Let this be a warning; I can get uncomfortable when pushed too far!"

The two men rounded the corner and stopped in front of the librarian and the young vampires. Conte Claudio tried, with little success, to conjure a smile.

"What are you doing here at this hour? Shouldn't you be in class?" His forehead creased, and despite his corpulence and fluttering purple robe, he suddenly seemed threatening.

Alisa recounted, for the second time, their essay assignment and observed the vampire who had provoked the Conte's anger. He was still young and exuded the exuberance of men convinced that their time had come. His face was still a bit too soft, but the dense dark hair and well-formed body made him appear masculine attractive. Was he a vampire of the lineage or an impure one? Then he might have more experience than the somewhat naive expression of his brown eyes suggested. Alisa caught his gaze. He stared at her darkly.

"Going to the library, hmm, that's usually not a problem. Leandro can show you around - if he has time and everything is in order?" He looked at the librarian inquiringly.

Leandro nodded reluctantly. "Fine, but not now. I still have a few things," he paused and then repeated the Conte's words, "to take care of."

Conte Claudio had apparently regained his composure because he nodded and now smiled openly at them. "Leandro will select a few books for you that may be helpful." Alisa nodded a little disappointed. She had hoped to be able to browse the library.

"Can I go then, esteemed Conte?" asked the young vampire in such a disrespectful tone that Alisa wouldn't have been surprised if he had been disciplined for it by the Conte. The Clanoberhaupts' hands twitched, but he kept his composure.

The other pointed to his evening suit. "I have something to attend to tonight, as you must have noticed!"

"Yes, you may go," said the Conte in a strained tone. "But consider this a warning!" The dark-haired man turned away with a dismissive gesture and hurried off.

"You shouldn't tolerate that," scolded the librarian.

"I know, but it's not easy to keep these young revolutionaries in check. They've seen it often enough among humans, how easy it is to overthrow a ruler."

"It won't come to that!" Leandro said brusquely.

"Let's hope not!"

Suddenly, the Conte seemed to notice that the students and the wolf were still standing at the door. "What are you waiting for? Oh yes, your books. Leandro!"

The librarian disappeared behind a shelf and returned shortly with five books, which he let fall into Alisa's arms.

"Well, you can go now!" said the Conte, pushing them out the door.

Latona shifted from one foot to the other. She nervously tugged at her evening gown - a tournure dress made of shimmering silk taffeta with a ruffled train and a double lace trim. The neckline was so low that one could see the top of her tightly laced breasts. She breathed in short bursts. Perhaps she shouldn't have tightened her corset so much for this evening! Maybe she would faint at the crucial moment! She still couldn't believe it. He had agreed to take her with him! Although she had extracted the promise from him after two bottles of heavy red wine, it didn't matter. A promise was a promise. She could tell he already regretted his recklessness!

"Uncle Carmelo, where are you? We're going to be late!"

"Don't be so nervous, my dear. It's only just struck ten. No respectable man goes out so early!"

"He's a vampire!"

"Who wants to be considered a respectable man. Trust me, we'll be there on time."

He looked handsome in his tailcoat. The long cape concealed the sword whose scabbard he carried in his left hand. He put on his top hat and offered his arm to Latona. "Do you have the vial?"

"Of course! I have no intention of being drained!"

He patted her hand. "That's right. We can't take any risks. I still need you for a while."

"For what? To hunt vampires?" she murmured so softly he couldn't hear.

Carmelo hailed a cab. He would have liked to stroll through the night for a bit and prepare himself for what he had to do next, but out of consideration for Latona's impractical clothing, he had to forgo that. Hopefully, the sedative was strong enough. He hadn't tried it this way before. For a human, this amount would be deadly. But would it be enough for a vampire? He wasn't sure. So far, he had only known the effect when the vampire had ingested the sedative with the blood of its victim. It was essential that the vampire be paralyzed or confused for at least a few moments. In a fair fight, a human had no chance against these powers. Vampires were too strong and too fast.

In his previous experiments, he had played with the lives of the "volunteers" who had to be bitten first. Of course, it wasn't difficult to persuade one of the street girls to an unusual assignment, but since the last time he had intervened too late, scruples had arisen in him. He could only hope that his new idea wouldn't put Latona's life in danger. He had come to genuinely like his niece by now. She was no longer the annoying, troubled brat he had taken in from England after his brother and sister-in-law's death.

Latona linked her arm with his as the carriage rattled over the uneven cobblestones. "You're so quiet, Uncle Carmelo. What are you thinking about?"

He attempted a cynical smile. "About the bag full of money we'll have in our hands in just a few hours! What else?"