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~ Laszlo ~
“My darling. I will see you when we are kissing the ground of your native land, and make love on the bones of those who have scorned you.” He looked at his wife’s perfect face, memorising every detail. How could he have ever mistaken anyone else for her? She was beauty incarnate, the absolute pinnacle of creation. And he was letting her go. He felt a lump form in his throat as tears gathered in his eyes, but he forced himself to smile.
“Safe passage, my darling,” he choked out, grateful that his voice held long enough for the lid on her coffin to swung shut. He took a deep breath that he hadn’t required in centuries, closing his eyes until the tears faded away.
Was he making the biggest mistake of his eternal existence? It wasn’t too late to turn back. No one knew of his plan, so no one would know if he abandoned it. He thought about Nadja, waking up in England to find herself without her husband. Alone in a land neither of them had visited in centuries. Afraid. She hadn’t gone anywhere without him since the twenties, though she’d never tell him why. He remembered how quickly she’d rushed to greet him after his stint as Jackie Daytona, and how long it had taken for her to finally let him out of her sight again. As if she was afraid he’d disappear again without her there to watch over him. His resolve wavered. Most vampires never found anyone they wanted to spend more than a few decades with – was he really going to risk throwing away a relationship of centuries? When she’d forgiven him so many transgressions, loved and defended him at every turn, and gone so far as to gift him his immortality in this first place?
No. He wasn’t throwing anything away, and he wasn’t abandoning her. Not that she’d know that. But Colin Robinson needed him – Nadja did not, and no matter how much he loved her, she would thrive without him on the shores of his homeland. He turned his eyes on the semi-reformed slayer, standing by the remaining crate. He could at least ensure that his dear lady wife would not be alone.
~ Nandor ~
He looked along the train platform, waiting for his former familiar to arrive. His hand rested nervously on the handle of Guillermo’s suitcase as the train pulled in, and the vampire couldn’t quite place the strange sensation he felt deep within his chest. Like some small insect was fluttering around inside him as he waited for his companion. He called out, shouting his name into the night. It bounced off the empty platform, ricocheting off the sides of the train, and the man inside merely watched as Nandor looked down the endless concrete, waiting to see a familiar face bounding towards him, out of breath and huffing excuses as to why he was late.
The figure never emerged. Nandor took a faltering step towards the train. He’d been planning on taking this trip alone anyway. Why did it matter so much to him now? He had gone on plenty of journeys alone in the past. This didn’t have to be any different. He had always been alone, for his entire immortal life, in every way that mattered. He walked down the aisle between the seats, and sunk into one by the window, still looking out almost frantically to catch a glimpse of Guillermo. He planned what he would say, an admonishment for his late arrival before he graciously accepted his company. All he saw was the bright red suitcase, alone on the platform and watched by the camera crew. The train began to move, and still Guillermo did not arrive.
He replayed their fight over and over in his mind. Guillermo had seemed happy at his offer… hadn’t he? Perhaps he had misread the situation yet again. Just like the countless others Nandor had offered his heart to, Guillermo had left it in the dust. He wasn’t sure why it was more painful than before – why it felt as though his stomach was made of lead. It hadn’t been this painful when Meg had rejected him, or any of the times Gail had delayed their engagement, or even when all thirty-seven of his wives had abandoned him and taken his offspring with them. Why should Guillermo be any different? Fucking guy.
~ Nadja ~
Nadja sat in the darkness, staring up at the lid of her coffin. Her ghost was sleeping inside the doll at her side, lulled by the rhythmic movements of the ship, but her thoughts were too loud to give her any peace. She drew nonsensical patterns in the plush fabric above her with one taloned finger. Laszlo had definitely been acting strangely. He’d seemed so happy to return to England, once she’d explained her new role there, and they’d had such fun packing – even if he’d insisted on trying to include that stupid bloody hat whenever he thought she wasn't looking. And yet, just before they’d left the house, he’d seemed… off, somehow. And something about the way he’d wished her ‘safe passage’ just didn’t feel right. It felt like a goodbye.
She wiped away a stray tear. Thoughts like that wouldn’t help anything. She knew they should have gotten one crate for the both of them so that they could talk and see one another, but he’d insisted that this was more practical. And that the reunion would be more fun.
She kept thinking about the reason he’d left England in the first place. She’d never wanted to force him to do anything – at least, nothing major. She’d refused his first four proposals on the basis that he didn’t know what he was getting in for with a vampiric relationship, and she’d ensured he really did want to leave England, or see her homeland, or move to Staten Island, or take Nandor as a roommate. But now she was forcing him to return. What if he’d only been trying to make her happy; and he didn’t truly want to go at all?
Her heart still fluttered with excitement every time she thought of her new position, and everything it might entail, but she still worried about Laszlo. He’d become so withdrawn when she’d been the Leader of Staten Island’s Vampiric Council – always commenting on how much he hated the concept, and spending all of his time when she was working looking at porn in the library. Would it be even worse for him now? She would surely have more work, and if he didn’t have Nandor, or Colin, or even Sean to entertain him while she was busy, what would he do? He was notoriously bad at making friends – he always tried to sleep with them, and that always ended in either rejection (in which case he’d never speak with them again) or a passionate affair (after which he’d never speak with them again). She’d have to talk with him about that when they reached England.
One thing was for certain – she never would have taken this job if he hadn’t accompanied her, no matter how much she wanted to. And so, if he became miserable in England, she would leave the position behind. No matter how much she craved power, she had eternity to amass it – and she refused to abandon her husband. Not for anyone, or anything.
~ Guillermo ~
“Safe fare. Make sure you look after my wife.”
Guillermo had been playing the words over and over in his mind since the coffin had been sealed and his voice had turned hoarse from screaming. It hadn’t done him any good, anyway. Apparently even vampiric hearing was limited only to what they cared to listen out for.
He wondered if Laszlo had bothered to inform Nandor. Probably not, considering that the vampire had never even bothered to learn his name. Which meant Nandor thought he’d abandoned him. After everything the two of them had been through, after he’d finally offered to treat Guillermo as an equal, after their entire relationship was on the verge of a complete shift… Nandor deserved better than to feel abandoned. And Guillermo knew he deserved better than to be shoved in a coffin as some sort of twisted consolation prise because Laszlo had changed his mind about England. Or maybe he was just a sacrifice to appease Nadja’s anger. Guillermo laughed bitterly to himself at the thought, but at some point he realised he’d started crying. He sniffed, wiping at the tears with his sleeve – either way, at least Laszlo had supplied food that was actually edible this time. He couldn’t believe his life had gotten to the point where that was a step up.
There was one question that kept burning at the back of his mind, though. Did Nadja know? If she did, he had every right to be as furious with her as he was with Laszlo. If she’d known, that meant she’d had the audacity to say goodbye to him, to say it had been ‘nice’ – which was practically glowing praise, coming from her – only to dash his hopes against the rocks. If she didn’t know, however… that meant that she would wake up only to find her husband missing, and a known vampire slayer in his place. That would take some explaining to a calm, reasonable vampire who didn’t have a track record for spur-of-the-moment-murder. He remembered how Nadja had reacted when Laszlo had gone off to Arizona for a week – the constant mood swings between crying and shouting had been bad enough when they weren’t aimed at him, and even then she’d threatened to ‘rip his bloody head off’ on multiple occasions. If she actually held him responsible for Laszlo’s absence…
Before he could follow that particular train of thought any further, there was a sudden jolt of movement. His crate was being taken off the boat. Fuck. He gripped the cross around his neck, and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.