AllFreeNovel Stories worth discovering

Salvaged By the Siren

Page 4

by Kate Callaghan

With care, Aerin dragged the heavy coffin away from the rays of sunlight.

I’ve already pulled you out of the sea. If you cause me to pop a disc, I’m going to let you starve, she huffed silently. With a loud groan, she dropped it into the cool, shadowed corner of the basement.

Standing upright, she cracked her back. Now that he was out of the direct rays, relief washed over her. During the war, her grandfather had reinforced the basement in case of bombings, with concrete and a thick metal door that could be bolted on either side, with only small windows the size of a book to let in some light that the vampire would never be able to escape from. He wouldn’t get out if she didn’t want him to, and her secret cave system down to the sea was hidden behind the huge safe that only a special lever would pull aside. Her grandfather’s logic was that any intruder would be too busy trying to get into the safe to care what lay behind it.

“The sooner I wake you up, the sooner I can sell your coffin, get you out of my house and back to wherever you came from.” Aerin sighed, retrieving the medical-grade blood bag, complete with a slender tube and a fine needle.

Carefully, she set up the IV, knowing that pouring blood directly into his mouth might not be the safest or most effective method. She pondered whether a vampire could drown in blood, or if perhaps she should shove the needle into his chest, close to his heart. She couldn’t exactly ask a vampire in town.

She took a steadying breath and forced her hand to remain still as she crouched over him. Staring at his sunken eyes and exposed fangs, she wondered what horror he’d gone through before slipping into his slumber, and she stroked his fine, coarse hair from his forehead.

“This won’t hurt,” Aerin said softly, and carefully inserted the IV into his hand. Putting the needle in his chest might be too much of a shock to the system. Aerin adjusted the drip to a gentle, slow pace. Watching and waiting for his reaction to the first bag, she held her breath, afraid that he would jump up and grab her as he had before, but he remained unmoved for the first half of the bag.

This might be a slower process than I thought. Maybe I should have put in that standing order at the blood bank. She prepared the next bag. For now, all she could do was wait patiently. Aerin walked back up the basement steps—no point in watching a kettle boil. Instead of hanging around, she decided the next port of call would be to get as much information about the coffin as she could. The mortuary would be as good a place as any to start to get an evaluation or an idea of when or who made the coffin. Given the gold casting and fine metalwork, it couldn’t have been mass-produced.

“Hi, I was hoping I could speak to Mr. Mortiscue, the funeral director?” Aerin asked when the funeral home clerk answered on the third ring.

“I’m sorry, but he is dealing with a family at the moment. Can I have him call you back?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can you tell him it’s Aerin from Clifton Manor and that I’ve found something he might be interested in?” Aerin said vaguely.

She didn’t want the vampire to wake up before she could get the coffin appraised. She doubted he would want anyone inspecting his resting place, especially not a bunch of strangers. Vampires were precious about their coffins, probably because at rest, they were at their most vulnerable.

“I’ll see what I can do,” the clerk said, putting her on hold.

“I’d rather show you than tell you over the phone, but I can assure you that it will be worth the trip up the hill,” Aerin said.

“He can come around tomorrow afternoon and have a look for you?” the clerk asked.

“That would be great,” Aerin said, putting down a bucket to collect the drips from her kitchen ceiling. Another pipe to be fixed. She went back down to the basement with a pair of scissors and opened the coffin.

“Still sleeping? How about we try and do something about that smell? I can’t bring visitors down here to inspect your coffin with that smell. And I think a haircut and a beard trim wouldn’t be unwelcome?

“That’s better,” she said, realizing the second bag of blood was nearly gone. She’d have to get more blood in the morning before the funeral director came to appraise the coffin.

After collecting another two bags from the blood bank the following morning, Aerin attached the third blood bag to the drip, and tucked it in beside her mystery guest. She’d keep the lid closed during the appraisal this afternoon. He was filling out nicely; his bones were no longer exposed, and his cheeks were starting to fill out. After the shave and the extra blood, she realized he was younger than he’d first appeared. The knock on the front door interrupted her thoughts, and she closed the lid to welcome the funeral director.

“Mr. Mortiscue, thank you for coming by,” Aerin said, greeting the man in her doorway with a thin moustache and impeccable tailored suit.

“Ms. Clifton, I have to say I was rather intrigued when my clerk told me that you had a find I might be interested in. It’s not a corpse, is it?” he teased, walking through the foyer.

“No, this is something far more interesting. Follow me to the basement,” she said, thinking the vampire inside didn’t technically count as a corpse.

“Careful on the steps,” Aerin warned, having put her foot through the wooden slats more than once. The damp was a merciless roommate thanks to her proximity to the sea. No matter how often she replaced them, they were rotting by the end of the year.

The funeral director’s mouth gaped as he stared at the coffin.

“This is…” He stammered, too awestruck to put together a sentence.

“I found it after the last storm. It’s been buried in the sand for gods know how long,” Aerin said, giving him some information to help him digest as he circled the golden coffin.

“It’s an exquisite piece of craftsmanship. I believe it’s 18th century. Vampiric certainly,” he said, putting on his spectacles. “Encased in gold? I wonder if it’s solid gold, but that would be far too heavy, even for a siren’s strength to bring up. I suspect the underlayer might be an alloy of some sort, but to survive so long in the water in such condition, with no sign of warping, it was clearly designed to protect its owner in case of a shipwreck.”

“How can you know for certain it’s vampiric or was intended for voyages?” Aerin asked. He knelt and tapped his pen against the claw feet that kept the coffin from touching the ground.

“See these? They were added to vampiric traveling coffins. See the hole in the middle of the feet? They would nail the coffin to the floor of the ship to keep it from moving around during storms.”

“I wouldn’t.” Aerin hesitated, placing her hand on the lid. “The inside is water-damaged, and the smell is rather horrid. I’ll replace the lining before selling, but I’m afraid that if you open it, I won’t be able to get the smell out of the house for weeks.” The lie rolled off her tongue, though the occupant did have a rather musty smell. She didn’t want him to know her find was occupied, or that she was holding the owner against his will. Technically she was, but it wasn’t like the vampire knew where he was. He was still out cold.