She was a twitchy young thing.
Her long black hair hung straight down her slender back. Her eyes were pale blue. Her skin almost as pale as one of my Bride's. She wore a simple black dress, a slender gold chain around her neck with a hexagram icon hanging just above her cleavage.
A very generous cleavage.
I concluded as I looked her up and down, that Netta Fornario had the body of a very beautiful woman.
Quite literally.
"Ah," I said, impressed by what I saw. "An incorporeal host. I haven't seen one in a long time, I think."
The girl's eyes bulged. "You know what I am?"
"It's not hard to see," I told the ghost possessing the body. "There's an azure glow around your pupils and I can see you're having some trouble keeping within the container, so your incorporeal form is leaking. See? At your elbow now."
"Oh." She put a hand over her elbow to hide it. It didn't hide it by much. "I'm just nervous, that's all."
"What's to be nervous about?"
"Well, you are a vampire," she said. "Actually, that's not right. You are the vampire. The first of them. Their king. Aren't you?"
"King is a title I don't think I ever claimed," I chuckled. "I was reasonably happy with Count."
"Really?" Her tone suggested she didn't believe me.
"Do you know what kind of paperwork is involved in being a Count, Netta?" I asked. "It's a lot. It really is. Being a king is… More than that. No, I am comfortable within a small domain, so long as that domain belongs to me."
"So, you don't want to rule the world?"
"Not particularly."
"That's disappointing," she said. "I kind of expected you to be a mad raving lunatic who wanted to control everything."
"I'm not sure if you're being flattering or not."
"Me neither," she said with a shrug. "I'm sorry. I can only say what comes to my mind. After I died, a lot of things just became… less important. You know what I mean?"
I nodded. "Actually, I think I do."
"I was sure you would." She looked around the Little Library. "I have to say, Count Dracula, that your taste in books isn't what I expected."
"They're not mine."
She stared at me.
Blinked.
Then stared at the book on my table. "Really?"
"Oh, I'll read them all," I told her. "But they were selected for me with good intentions. It would be… churlish of me not to read them."
"Huh." She looked puzzled. "I don't really know what to think of you now. I had all these worries and fears, you see. I thought you'd do all sorts of horrible things to me. But now… Now I don't know whether to leave disappointed or throw myself on your lap and beg for your attention."
"I don't think you need to go that far to get my attention."
"You say?" She finally cracked her mouth into a smile. "I saw those girls out there. Their skirts are very short. And the blonde has amazing tits. I wish I had tits like hers. How's a girl supposed to compete with those?"
"She doesn't."
"You don't really care what I want, do you?"
"Not particularly," I admitted. "However, you asked for an appointment, which is something no one else has done lately. That shows some respect for me at least. That's enough to earn a level of curiosity."
"Well, I didn't want to just barge in," she said. "That would be rude."
"It really would."
"You want to know who I represent?"
"It would be appreciated."
"No one," she said glumly. "I represent no one. I am here all alone. On my own. By myself. Depressing, isn't it?"
I sat back and studied her some more.
It wasn't that I didn't believe her. She sounded truthful.
But it was hard to believe that a ghost could live on its own without assistance.
The body she had possessed would only support her for so long. She'd need another. Soon, most likely. And the older she became, the more often she would need to hop from body to body.
And not everyone was susceptible to being possessed. It took someone with a weak mind, or at least a damaged one. Then they needed to be prepared. The ghost would need time to integrate after displacing the previous body's soul.
Then they'd have to somehow blend into society. And, by the time they'd got themselves comfortable, they'd need to start again.
And again.
It wasn't easy.
Normally such a being would ingratiate itself to a cult. The cult would be able to provide it with an endless stream of bodies. At least until they grew bored or died out.
To struggle alone would take someone of incredible determination.
Or…
"You're looking for revenge on someone," I said.
"Ooh!" Her eyes widened again and she clapped her hands with girlish excitement. "You're so smart! Look how quickly you figured that out. What was it that gave you that idea?"
"You're on your own. You have to be driven by something. Survival only takes you so far. You need more than survival to want to live as long as you have."
"It could've been love."
"Anyone you loved would be dead by now."
"Hmph," she folder her arms and closed her eyes. "Now you're being rude. I might be old, but this body is very young. I picked it just for you, you know. You could at least show me some respect."
"It's a nice body."
"I know, right?" She brightened again. "She was in a car accident. Poor thing. The soul was shocked right out of her body and she was laying there in a coma."
"So, she won't last very long."
"No." She winced. "But you can still have a little fun with it, can't you?"
"I don't need you to sell me your corpse," I sighed.
"I suppose you don't." She squinted at me. "But I don't know what else to offer you."
"How about you tell me what you want first."
"Oh, that's easy!" She bounced a little in her seat. "I want you to kill a guy."
"A guy?"
"A dude? A bro? A piece of shit?" She frowned. "Come on, don't tell me you aren't keeping up with modern slang?"
"I only resurrected recently," I said drily.
"Oh," she sighed. "There's little dictionaries of modern slang, you know. I'll get you one."
"Who do you want killed?"
"Aleis-"
"-ter Crowley," I finished for her. "He seems a very popular man."
"What?" Her eyes almost popped out of her head. "How did you know?"
"Are you acquainted with the Illuminated Order of the Rosy Cross, by chance?"
"Hmph," she grunted, crossing her arms and scowling. "Those bastards. A bunch of thieves and assholes."
"You don't like them?"
"It's a long story," she said, looking sad. "But the short one is, my Master supported Crowley. During the Battle of Blythe Road. They were both part of the Golden Dawn at the time. My Master formed another order, Alpha et Omega."
"Interesting name."
"Yeah," she sighed. "Anyway. Crowley betrayed my Master. He stole one of my Master's grimoires. A special one. One he was working on trying to unlock. We got it back, eventually. The cost was high, though. We lost some of our best. Then Crowley's lot attacked us. I was under attack when I died. I was trying to break the curse he'd put on me. When it looked like I was failing, I instead tried something else."
"Interesting!" I leaned forward suddenly, peering into her eyes. She wanted to look away, but held firm. "You're not a ghost after all. You're actually a preserved Astral Body."
"Yeah," she muttered. "Smart bastard."
"You are quite clever yourself, I think."
"Thanks," she scowled. "But it doesn't help. I'm in Astral Form, so I lost all my magic abilities. I can't do anything except skulk around. It's so bloody annoying! And it's all his fault!"
She threw herself at my feet, grovelling like a dog.
"Please, Count Dracula," she sobbed. "Please get revenge for me! I'll do anything you want!"
I patted her on the head. "Get up, Netta," I said. "You interest me. But I won't kill him for you, no."
"But-"
"You see, I can't."
"Oh," she rubbed at the tears on her face. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, then."
"You misunderstand," I said, pulling my lips into a grin. "The Order already hired me to kill him. So, you see, I'm killing him for them."
She frowned, her face twisting into a look of utter confusion.
"The Order has asked you to kill Crowley?"
"Yes." I felt a thrum go through my Bloodline. "What do you think of that, Miss Fornario?"
"I don't understand at all," she said. "He's their leader. He always has been."