We sat in the café – it hissed with an espresso machine, chitchat and the intrigues of chess players. An elderly couple sat across from us. Gabriella whispered, “I’m leaving.”

“What — are you driving home?”

“I’ll sit on books. Police would arrest you for child endangerment.”

Maria took photos. I sipped tea. Gabriella covered herself with a scarf and didn’t let out a peep, pointing at the couple behind her dainty hand.

“Quite a scrumptious oatmeal cookie,” said the elderly man.

The couple wore white suits and held hands over a pile of classics, sipping espresso. They had duck-topped canes and looked like they’d missed a few decades.

So, here we were in Baltimore, the city of Poe. It had a relaxed pace, and we could afford an apartment in Fell’s Point. I’ll only live in areas bruised by time. “Look at those folks,” I said to Maria; “Your parents watch TV all damn night.”

“You drag them out of the house.”

An employee removed unwanted books from the tables.

“Now, that’s an elegant little lady,” the elderly woman said to us.

“Merci beaucoup,” Gabriella said; “How old are you?”

“You’d have to add a lot of numbers. Stunning,” he said. He was lanky with a long face that hid humor in its lines; “You’d want to get her into the arts. In my acting days, I had contacts. Yet, innocence lost cannot be recovered.”

Maria nodded, “No innocence anymore.”

“Were you both actors?” I asked, snapping open my briefcase.

“From Sophocles to Vaudeville,” he said; “Are you an executive?”

“No, I’m in a non-growth field — teaching English at high school.”

“Friend, don’t let it put you in the grave.”

“Splendid,” said his wife, turning one of her sapphire earrings; “Literature is a repository of the tree of life.”

“How many phases do we go through as readers?” asked the man.

“Many, sir,” I replied, “My new phase is world religion.”

“The wealth of symbols from above and below haunts the mind,” he said; “Hey fella: I’m Augustus Toth, and here’s the one and only Countess Sabine von Halstatt.”

“I’m Peter, my wife’s Maria and that’s Gabriella with the Vulcan brain–”

“All is one,” replied Sabine, with a hawkish grin.

Augustus looked at his watch, “Tempus fugit! May we speak in Latin?”

“I had two classes in college, not proficient,” I responded with shoulders up. After small talk, we went back to reading. Time slipped away like baby turtles hurrying into the sea. Bees got into the building, zipping and hovering.

The manager announced that the store was closing. A hush prevailed except for the clack of chairs and footfalls. The lights blinked strangely, as if warning approaching ships. Bad timing, as I was building up the courage to tell Maria of my plan to teach the humanities at a community college with lower pay. “What in godless Hades!” said Maria.

Maria is from an old Roman Catholic family. She has some indigenous heritage, but her looks favor the Spanish. She is brainy and formal but knows how to loosen up. There’s a mystical strain, but banking has stymied her magical, nature-infused blood. Gabriella has blonde hair and blue eyes and is good with languages. She loves chess, animals and Dora the Explorer.

The empty parking lot swallowed us like a ship. The breeze pulsed across the moon and owls hooted. As I fumbled for my keys, the old couple stepped out of mist. “Our car battery died — stranded,” Sabine said.

Their cream Duesenberg was next to our old Prius.

“Oh. Didn’t you call anyone?”

“Cell phones pollute tranquility. Perhaps you’d be so kind as to drive us,” she continued; “A few kilometers–”

“A hawk could fly that in a flash,” Augustus added.

I strained to come up with reasons why I couldn’t drive them. My wife twisted toward me, raising her eyes. “I’ll give you Gabriella a signed book by the Brothers Grimm and a Raphael cartoon of an angel,” Augustus mirthfully said.

Maria cut in, “Who wants the front seat?”

Gabriella smashed her box of crayons against the windshield. “What a playful daughter,” said Augustus. “One could eat her all up.”

***

Augustus insisted on navigating but got us lost. He admitted to wanting, “To see antiques.” He pointed out the cathedral and Freemason Lodge. We drove down the main street: only traffic lights changing colors. Crows patrolled the arcing sky over a small graveyard, and a family walked their dog along the gate…

After twenty minutes we reached countryside. An albino deer paused to look at us, traversing a pine forest of geometric splendor, like some dream of Pythagoras. Leaves fluttered below oak trees. “Hurry, left, right. Gate’s closing,” said Augustus. It looked familiar: a Gothic mansion of stone blocks, towers and a rose window over the doorway. I’d seen it profiled in the newspaper but didn’t know people lived there – Sabine and Augustus!

“Such a delight. We must meet again,” said Sabine.

“In the bookstore–“

“Do you like ice cream with sprinkles?” Augustus asked. Gabriella released the snaps on the child-seat. I wondered what got into everyone. We were in the bookstore, then… Augustus directed me to park in the curved driveway. We walked up the stairs.

When the resounding door opened, a guy appeared. “I’m Tiny Francis,” he said.

“Charming. When I was her age, Augustus and I fought zombies in Slovakia—”

“Real zombies?” Gabriella asked.

“Francis,” Sabine said in a droll tone. The elders guided us along murals where unicorns pranced along the walls. Antiquarian books, statues, Egyptian sarcophagus, costumes and Venetian masks with gold beaks…

Sabine said, “At last, tea, macaroons, ice cream?”

“Neapolitan flavors,” Gabriella said.

“Let’s play cards,” Francis said, “Gabriella can build a castle.”

“Sebastian Cabbage and Lucy Mermaid live there. Dragons attack.”

“Oh my, dragons are a worldwide danger,” added Augustus Toth.

Maria and I felt too tired to fight the evening’s charms. The couple used golden plates for everything.

“We visited Café Procope in Paris and had vanilla ice cream and a glass of Chambertin – perhaps with Franklin or Jefferson.”

I scratched my face. Maria and I grinned.

***

We heard a knock on the front door – three resounding thuds, followed by howls and scratching. An arrow shattered the window. “Oh. It’s time,” Augustus said, cracking his knuckles.

“Time?” I asked in a quivering voice.

“What?” Maria reacted, pulling Gabriella closer.

Augustus, unrolling a message on the arrow, said, “A younger clan.”

Frances grabbed a battle ax off the wall. Augustus disassembled his cane to reveal a musket, pushing a silver ball into the powder. Sabine locked the shutters. “Who are you people?” I said, clenching my fists.

“Over time, many–” said Sabine.

“I’m calling the police,” I said.

“There’d just be more widows,” Augustus said.

“Without our assistance, you’d be target practice,” said Sabine.

In this foul atmosphere, I looked for weapons. Gabriella went from fear to exhaustion, falling asleep on Maria’s lap, and Maria placed a cross on her, whispering prayers, as I tried making calls. Augustus held his nose and rubbed garlic around. “I’m putting garlic around windows,” I said unconsciously.

“I’ll pop him, send ‘em to the underworld,” said Augustus, aiming the cane.

“He has no respect,” said Frances, lighting torches.

“Geo the Wicked,” said Sabine; “I heard he moved from Palermo. He entered the Register of Darkness when he was a celebrity undertaker during the plague of 1348.”

“Even vampires died,” Augustus nodded.

“I heard he’d joined up, for a spell, with Professor Amphibious,” said Francis; “There should be proper immigration procedures for foul things.”

“He can live on water or land,” Maria mumbled.

“I demand–”

“Of course,” Augustus said; “We’re Renaissance vampires. We don’t harm animals or people – just borrow a little blood.”

“A conversation with Leonardo started us on that path,” said Sabine.

“Da Vinci?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“I’d like a refund for tonight,” said Gabriella.

Augustus conveyed Maria and Gabriella into a trapdoor under the table, festooned with furniture. Sabine’s silver-blonde hair pulsed down her shoulders like a warrior. Frances and Augustus stood like sentinels. A deeper silence penetrated the rooms. Wagner music pounded the atmosphere. Mist squeezed through the keyhole, coalescing into monstrous forms and floating away. The young vampire kicked the door off the hinges. Geo sliced open the walls.

Frances and Augustus had moved into a corner, just in time. Geo circled his swords and one by one the candles died. I shivered from this unstoppable evil: the utter recklessness of his being, the blood-gulp, the secret world convulsing the one we trust. Could we stop him from taking my wife and child? “Geo,” Augustus broke the silenc; “After a long while, like a comet, you appear. Tired of draining rats and addicts?”

“Is that anyway to address a guest?” he said, swooping onto the floor.

“You are weird and vile, Geo,” said Sabine.

While I gripped the pike Augustus, Sabine and Frances moved faster than thought. Augustus got off two shots but Geo, just near his heart, deflected them. Geo grabbed Augustus by the collar, shook him like a doll, then tossed him. Augustus coughed up blood and straightened himself. “Augustus,” I yelled.

Geo was so astonishingly horrid that he defied description. He flashed by, leaving a mirage of teeth-white skin and vomit breath odor. I felt his moist malodorous fingers across my face and body.

“Bellissimo!”

Blood rolled down my body. I begged the higher powers to save my doomed family.

“No half-human — she’ll be a great vampire!” announced Geo, shaking the folds of his cape, then drinking from a goblet. “Dad, you’ll fight beyond your ability, valiantly, and your wife will kick and scream. Fighting a vampire is like meddling with those Greek gods you chat about to students glued to their cell phones.”

I crawled toward the table and pushed the rug over the trapdoor. Bats – hundreds of bats – hung from chandeliers and windowsills, abuzz with sonar. “I’ve destroyed her before you could,” I cried out, reaching along the littered floor.

He laughed, circling the air with his sword,. “I was a guillotine designer during the French Revolution. I led armies–”

I shot the musket. He was out of the way before it exploded.

“Oops,” Geo said, humming; “It’s not the worst, life everlasting, in the shadows. You see her as a child, uncracked by time, dreaming of sunlight & dance. With my powers, she’ll remain young. I offer the flower that the Buddha held up to the crowd.”

“Evil knows not a flower.”

Time skipped like a stone over water. I couldn’t let it skip for Gabriella. She wouldn’t taste blood through teeth holes. I jumped on the cane-musket, rolled and shot. The ball hissed. Geo looked stunned, transfixed. Like a talking dummy, his body jerked up — a sizzling orb planted under that silk. In that room of broken mirrors, my soul defeated oblivion. My girls and the others emerged through the trapdoor.

“They’re really vampires,” said Sabine, her body full of shudders.

Augustus said: “Hey bud, nice shot. We had to guard Gabriella — didn’t know how to guard you, too.” He turned to Geo, twisting like an eel, “Naughty. The below-treasure is Gabriella. She and the mother Maria are part of our bloodline. Geo — your end will be breathless.”

“A game, it meant nothing.”

Dust sparkled above the candelabras. The room was in pieces.

“Geo, you’re all costume,” said Gabriella, stepping in front, “We have rules for you and a new path: kindness.”

“You’ll follow the Custom of Vampires,” Sabine demanded.

Augustus shook his head. “I’ll notify the Council of Dark Arts.”

“He must sign the parchment,” reassured Sabine.

“Humans are worse than vampires,” said Gabriella.

“She is so wise,” I found myself saying.

Too awed to speak, I looked from face to face – an unknown world. Could we return to innocence, to the plight of being normal?