Teodor unlocked the bike lock they had used to secure the basement door. The hunter had been tied to the wall in the darkest part of the basement. Steopa ducked as he went down the stairs. The hunter looked up, his mouth covered with duct tape. He opened his eyes wide, then lowered his head.
Silva sat on a table, studying the hunter. On the table next to her were bungee cords and duct tape. She looked over her shoulder as Steopa approached.
“He's talkative tonight,” she said. “And speaking English too.”
He walked up to the hunter and ripped the duct tape off the man's face. “Who told you about me?”
The hunter lowered his eyes. “If I tell you, I'm dead.”
“You are dead already. Who is Simon?” Steopa asked.
The old hunter chuckled, but shook his head. “Trouble. That's what he is. We should have staked him, not worked for him. Half my crew has died.”
“He is another vampire,” Steopa said.
Silva cleaned her fingernails. “He was cursing that name earlier.”
“Simon claims you killed his sister,” the hunter said. “I think he is lying. He has another reason.”
“I know.” Steopa thought for a moment. “Did he say when or how I killed his sister?”
The hunter nodded. “You found her in Berlin.”
Steopa growled. He motioned to Silva to leave the basement. She ran up the stairs. Steopa walked over to the hunter. He placed each of his hands on a side of the old man's head. His hands were large enough to cover the old man's face. Steopa leaned close.
“He is a liar. His sister disappeared last year. He has only been a vampire for a few weeks. Do you want to know the truth about me? I was attacked on my way home to see my wife. I had been fighting Napoleon's troops. I killed that blond blydischa after she tried to feed off me. Because of her I am a vampire.”