Okay, wow. Normally not a huge fan of deadpan snark, but vampy delivered a master-class skewering. Like listening to the very best in a music genre you don't like, you still can't help but respect listening to one of the greats.

Like how no one with working eardrums can stand country, but then someone puts on Johnny Cash and you think, 'oh, okay, you're good enough that I'll think of you as rock and roll now'.

So when I could finally get my abs and back to start holding me upright again, I could finally let my eyes wander around and take in Paris for the very first time in my life.

I've always wanted to come here. Even as a little girl, Paris had a majestic allure to it as the city of romance; the setting of many of the smutty Wattpad stories I still tend to read during cargo runs and surveying assignment. It was also the home of Fabulo, the majestic cover model for nearly all of those smutty Wattpad stories. Which meant that Paris had a special place in my heart.

And to be in Paris for the first time, it was...

It was...

Kinda underwhelming. London has more interesting architecture, Rome has better food, Vancouver just smells better, New York has pizza and ambition, Istanbul has a more vibrant culture, Shanghai has a better skyline...

Frankly, it was a lot like being in Toronto.

And Toronto sucks. Seriously, there's a whole song about it.

Luca had stomped off in a huff, directly into some sort of sandwich shop. With the tinted windows and the dim light of post-sunset, it was hard to say for certain, but the large man behind the counter threw his arms in the air as soon as Luca walked inside. The two men embraced, and the large man immediately scampered back behind the counter and began pointing at the items inside excitedly.

"This is a remarkable place," Alcuard said from beside me. I looked over to see the vampire staring down the street, towards a crowd of people beginning to form a line. It was too early, and the crowd looked too old for the place to be a nightclub, so I suspected it was some sort of restaurant.

"Remarkable? This is a backwater hovel," I disagreed very rationally and un-prejudiced like.

"Far from it. The people here, there's a contentedness in their mannerisms, an appreciation for beauty and small things," Alcuard explained cryptically, which is the most useless form of explanation. Just makes everything muddier. "See that crowd? No one in that line is here out of obligation, or habit. They are all here, without a single exception, to enjoy the food. And all of them will. There is wisdom in being able to savour the small joys of life."

Damn it! Stupid vampire making poignant philosophical points. Now I just look small-minded.

"Don't blame Izzy," a surprisingly unfamiliar voice said from just above our heads. I looked up to see BIRD flapping its wings lazily just above my head. Once I looked, it did a small turn and descended until it landed on my shoulder. "She has less unique culture than a bowl of yoghurt."

"Oh, so you're Canadian?" Luca asked from behind me. I found it easier to get irritated with him because he was wearing a shirt. The man was holding a small sandwich in each hand, though only one of them was unwrapped.

"Hey! They have culture!" I scathed.

"They do. America's," Luca retorted. And to preemptively stop the witty retort that I was totally about to come up with, he offered me the other sandwich. Which I opened cautiously, and allowed myself to take a small bite of.

And oh shit, no, just how is food so much better around Luca? I have paid good money for steak dinners that didn't taste as good as this fucking sandwich! It's a sandwich, the food is named after an English Lord, and if you know anything about them, it's that unless they use a deep fryer, they can't cook! There is no reason why a simple sandwich should be one of the top five meals of my life.

And how is Luca not obscenely fat?

"Since your side quest is accomplished, would you mind if we carried on to the bank? I am finding life in abject poverty to be moderately unsettling," Alcuard asked as he pointed down the street.

"Abject poverty?" BIRD asked from my shoulder. Alcuard began to walk, and both Luca and I followed close behind. Bird flapped its wings and huffed indignantly. "You probably have a claim to Mars, and even if you don't, the castle is yours."

"I have no claim to Mars," Alcuard insisted. "Luca brought life to a dead world. It is an astonishing achievement. Landing a broken craft and planting a flag would have entitled America to the moon. And more..."

"What?" BIRD asked.

"Luca has proven himself a friend. He knew all of this, and clearly had the power and means to hold me on Mars or toss me into the void of space. All he has done so far is provide transportation and hospitality. My own family would have shivved me for less cause," Alcuard said.

"A broken craft," Luca mused. "So what's the story behind that castle of yours? Did you live on Mars or did you somehow get the castle there from somewhere else?"

Alcuard sighed, and gazed up at the stars morosely. I wasn't sure I was seeing it, but there appeared to be faint twinkling lights on his skin. It might just have been my irrational expectations, though, because when the vampire looked back at us, the sparkle was gone.

"I came from Earth, over six thousand years ago," Alcuard explained. "And my castle is only a small part of the craft buried beneath the Martian sands. And it's a bit of a misnomer to call it a craft. You see, it's actually-"

"Oh no. No, no, please no," BIRD began to whine. I turned my head to see the little robot trying its best to cover its face with its wing. "Please don't be some kind of advanced civilization long forgotten in history, that somehow managed to not leave any evidence of its existence."

Alcuard smiled kindly. "I'm afraid the little robot is right. My people once ruled the world beneath wealth and science that no one else alive could match, and we viewed humanity the way most people view livestock. We lived in the sky city of Atlantis, kept in eternal twilight as it hid in the shadow of the Earth. The castle you liberated me from is a small part of Atlantis, now buried beneath the Martian sands."

"Oh, so your whole city in on Mars now?" BIRD asked. When Alcuard nodded, BIRD seemed to sigh in relief. It's kinda hard to tell with birdbrain. "Okay, I can live with that. It explains why there's no evidence."

"How did Atlantis end up on Mars?" I asked. "And what happened to its people?"

"I took Atlantis into space. It was only astonishingly good fortune that I didn't drift off into the void between stars," Alcuard explained.

"Implausibly good fortune, or a hack of an author relying on convenience," BIRD muttered irritably.

"As for what happened to Atlantis," Alcuard continued, his voice harsh. "I happened."

"And on that happy note, is that your bank?" Luca asked.

The last corner Alcuard had lead us around revealed a dark and foreboding stone fortress. The stones making up the building were each nearly as tall as I am, the nearest windows were over twenty feet from the ground, and had metal bars set in front of the glass, and the entranceway looked like it would win a fight with a tank.

"You know what would complete the look?" Luca asked, and the world's wealthiest man looked slightly more amused than usual. "Dark clouds and lightning. Because this is such a bad cliche that I'm starting to worry BIRD is right. Oh, and a seven foot tall creature that looks like Frankenstein's monster acting as the building's usher."

The woman who opened the door as we approached was not seven feet tall. Nor did she have patches of skin stitched together in different colours. Frankly, asides from being rather heavy on the eyeliner and having the same luminescently pale skin that Alcuard rocks, she was pretty unremarkable. In a slutty goth banker kind of way.

"Alcuard Cominetti von Dracul," the woman at the doorway said, inclining her head. "I was told to expect you."

"Apologies for the hour," Alcuard replied as he approached. "I dislike daylight."

"It's a surprisingly common affliction," the woman said as she held the door open. Isabella followed Alcuard through, where her heels clicked loudly again the smooth marble floor. "Though my boss, for some reason, did ask to provide a young blonde virgin. When I stopped laughing, he insisted I make it happen."

"Did he ask for a unicorn and a wardrobe that leads to Narnia?" Luca asked.

"No, but I'd have an easier time with the unicorn. I know a gene-splicing outfit in Lisbon that specializes in making unicorns for the daughters of the very wealthy," the woman said. She snapped her fingers, and turned back to Alcuard. "Speaking of rich, you'll be pleased to know, mister uh, is Dracul really your last name?"

"It is. My family name, alas, predates the Bram Stoker novel," Alcuard replied smoothly. "Out of curiosity, how rich am I?"

"Are you comfortable sharing that information with, uh." The woman's gaze stopped at Luca Cardego as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh my god, are you him?"

"Would it help if I took off my shirt?" Luca asked. I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Yes," the woman whispered quietly, and for a moment she looked about half her age. She shook her head and patted her cheeks, then said, "I mean, uh, it was slightly more difficult to recognize you with a shirt on. That's all."

"I get that a lot," Luca admitted.

"I have no problems with sharing this information. I doubt Mister Cardego would be impressed regardless, and knowing would give miss Isabella some confidence that she will be paid for the job she's on," Alcuard said.

"Very well," the woman said, and she stepped behind the counter. "Your account balance is currently sitting slightly over three billion dollars."

"That should spare you from the dull horror of a day job," Luca said, and he clapped Alcuard on the shoulder. "Congratulations."

"I am a billionaire," Alcuard reflected. "As I was before."

The vampire did not look happy. Isabella could tell, even with how moody and emo-morose Alcuard tended to be unless he was riding a biplane with a lightsaber in hand. His head was tilted forward, his eyes were locked on the ground, and his pale hands at his sides trembled.

"Well, if it helps, you still have to pay taxes on that. Plus lawyer fees, start a foundation for some kind of charity, and pay Isabella back. And if you're willing, we could partner up and start a toy plane airplane fight league. All together, that should get you into the category of the most underrepresented demographic on Wattpad."

"The most underrepresented? You mean well-adjusted adults?" Alcuard asked.

"Okay, the second most underrepresented."

"China?"

"Touché. The third, then. Millionaires."

"Ah, I see," Alcuard said, and he appeared to be genuinely pleased. "That does sound more palatable."

Just then, someone else walked in through the front door. A middle aged man, covered in dust, wearing a worn fedora on his head stepped inside and pointed straight at Luca. "Mister Cardego? Luca Cardego, of the Cardego Corporation?"

"That's me," Luca said.

The man walked up to Luca, reached into his coat pocket, and held out an envelope. "Apologies, Mister Cardego. You have been served."