Orlock looked at me for a long moment, and though I no longer possessed the sensory apparatus to feel temperature, I swear the room seemed to get colder by several degrees.
"An empty threat coming from someone the Adjudicators would dearly love to find," Orlock said through gritted teeth.
So the vampire had recognized me. I wasn't worried that he'd turn us over to the authorities, though. If what David had told us about Orlock was true he had his own reasons for not wanting anything to do with the Adjudicators.
Without another word Orlock gestured for us to come around the counter. Then he turned, removed a key from his coat pocket, unlocked the door and – moving with an awkward, jerking motions that put me in mind of a scuttling crab – he entered the room beyond.
Devona and I exchanged glances.
A trap? she asked telepathically.
In Nekropolis? What are the odds?
She grinned at me and we followed after Orlock. Once we were inside the vampire closed and locked the door behind us.
The back room turned out to be a private office and a cozy one at that. A trio of comfortable chairs, Persian rug over a wooden floor, round table with a teacup and saucer resting on top of it, though instead of tea, the cup held a bit of reddish liquid at the bottom. And bookshelves, of course, though these were made of highly polished oak and contained one leather bound volume after another. Orlock's private stock, I assumed.
Orlock sat at the table and gestured for Devona and I to sit in the two remaining chairs. I preferred to stand – easier to fight that way – but Bloodborn, especially older ones, can be rigid when it comes to matters of etiquette, so we did as Orlock wanted and sat.
At first Orlock didn't say anything. He just folded his spiderish fingers together over his skeletally thin chest and looked at us. When he did finally speak his voice held a hint of amusement.
"Did you really think your pathetic disguises would fool me? Even if you weren't a well known personality around town, I'd have recognized you, Matthew Richter. You too, Devona Kanti. I remember the names and faces of everyone I've ever done business with, even if it was only a single transaction."
He reached out to pick up his teacup then and drained the remaining dregs of liquid.
Devona licked her lips as we watched Orlock finish his drink and I realized it had been a while since she'd fed on real blood instead of settling for aqua sanguis. I sometimes forget that while she's only half-vampire, that half needs nourishment the same as any other Bloodborn. I try not to let her dietary needs bother me, though. After all, we monsters need to stick together.
Orlock put his empty cup down on the saucer then sat back in his chair, hands once more interlocked on his chest.
"So tell me why you're here," he said. "I admit that I'm extremely curious why a fugitive from justice would choose to interrupt his flight from the authorities to visit a used bookstore."
"I suppose I could tell you that even fugitives need something to read, but the truth is I need your help. Are you aware of the reward the First Adjudicator is offering for my capture?"
Orlock looked at me as if I'd just insulted him.
I went on. "All right then. In that case, then you know the basics of the crime I was arrested for."
"Yes. You stole something from Lord Edrigu." He suddenly brightened. "Don't tell me you've come here looking to sell the object!"
"I'm not going to tell you that because I didn't steal it." I paused. "Well, my head didn't."
Orlock just looked at me.
"It's complicated. The point is I didn't steal the object, so I don't have it. The reason we've come to see you is that I intend to discover who actually committed the crime so I can clear my name. But to do that I need to know more about the object that was stolen from Lord Edrigu. It was a flute carved from bone that he wore around his neck."
Orlock's only reaction to the object's description was a slight narrowing of his gaze.
"Interesting," he said softly. But he added no more.
"We came to you because you have a reputation for being a collector," Devona said. "We know you sometimes hire people to acquire certain items for you. Supposedly you're not too fussy about how you obtain them, either."
"And you believe I may be able to provide information on this flute for you?" Orlock asked. "Or is it more than that? Do you suspect me of engineering the theft?"
"The thought had occurred to me," I admitted. "But to be honest at this point we have no more reason to suspect you than anyone else in town. And since you're the only lead we have at the moment, I suppose we'll just have to trust that you had nothing to do with the theft."
"Because you have no choice," Orlock said.
"That's about the size of it."
The vampire looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I'm a businessman, not an altruist. If I agree to help you, how will I be compensated?"
"It depends," Devona said. "What would you want?"
Orlock considered. "Your services in the future, free of charge. There are a number of artifacts that I haven't been able to acquire over the years for one reason or another. The two of you might be able to succeed in obtaining them for me where others have failed."
" One artifact," I said. "And we'll reserve the right to choose which one we'll go after."
Orlock smiled. "Done!" He briskly rubbed his talons together in satisfaction. "Now, down to business." He grinned. "And I do mean down ."
He reached beneath the table, pushed a hidden switch, and the floor began to descend. Devona and I gripped the arms of our chairs out of reflex but the descent was slow and smooth. A wooden panel slid into place above us to seal off Orlock's office and fluorescent lights affixed to its underside turned on to provide illumination as we continued dropping.
The floor descended about thirty feet before coming to a gentle stop. Devona and I looked around and saw only darkness. I remembered Devona's concern that we might be walking into some kind of trap and I steeled myself for an attack. But a moment later Orlock said, "Forgive me. I tend to forget that not all my visitors can see as well in the dark as I can."
He gestured with one of his clawed hands and more fluorescent light panels activated, revealing a corridor that extended off to the left.
"Please follow me."
Orlock rose and, moving with his crab-like walk, started down the corridor. Devona and I of course followed. It was why we'd come here, after all.
The corridor wasn't a long one and we soon found ourselves standing in a large open chamber I estimated to be at least the size of a football field, ceiling thirty feet above us, covered in fluorescent light panels that clearly illuminated every part of the chamber. Devona and I stood there for a moment, staring in amazement. For most of her adult life, Devona had served as caretaker of Lord Galm's collection of magical artifacts. I'd seen his collection and I'd been impressed, but Galm had nothing on Orlock. His chamber was packed full of items ranging in size from the three-masted sailing ship with the name Flying Dutchman painted on the side in faded letters to a round crystalline pedestal with a seemingly empty clear dome on top. A metal plate affixed to the pedestal proclaimed the dome as containing the Incredible Shrinking Man. There were hundreds of items surrounding us, from large to small, each more exotic and bizarre than the last. Rosemary's Baby's crib, the Darkwand of Manticore, Dr. Jekyll's first chemistry set, the Ark of Desecration, the Phantom of the Opera's original score for Don Juan Triumphant, two of the Headless Horseman's spare heads, a half dozen dried and preserved triffids and so many more.
While many of Orlock's displays were physical objects a number of his displays resembled exhibits that seemed more appropriate for a wax museum: men, women and creatures in frozen poses sealed within large domes of clear crystal, like that containing the Incredible Shrinking man, but on a larger scale. According to their plaques the domes nearest us contained the Seven Golden Vampires, Grendel and his mother, the Aztec Mummy, several devil bats and a pack of killer shrews. I knew without asking that these weren't wax recreations bur rather the real thing, held in stasis by some sort of enchantment or advanced technology and there were a lot of them in Orlock's collection and when I gave Devona a look and thought We'd better watch ourselves, she gave me a look back which said she agreed.