High Stakes (7 page)

‘Have you asked her out?’

‘She’s not going to look twice at me.’

‘You don’t know until you…’

‘Try? Yeah, yeah, yeah. Except I do know, Bo. Believe me, I know. Why do you think I’m here?’

‘For advice,’ I say.

‘Um, yeah. Advice. Sure.’

His expression makes me think that I’m the last person he’d come to for that. Given the state of my own love life, that’s hardly surprising. It still doesn’t explain why he’s here.

‘Spit it out. What can I help you with?’

‘No, you’re right. Advice is good. That’s what I came here for.’

‘Rogu3, you’re not going to hurt my feelings if you don’t want to listen to any of my wisdom.’

His relief is palpable. ‘Oh, okay. Good.’ He nods. Then everything comes out in a rushed babble. ‘You’re a vampire now, so you’re cool and glamorous and if you showed up at my school with that leather jacket and that pout you always have and you come to talk to me, then maybe…’

‘You’ll be cool by association?’ I ask drily. It’s not a word I’ve ever related to myself but I could go with it. Then I frown. ‘Hold on, what pout?’

He ignores my question. ‘I know you can’t come during the day but there’s a band playing on Friday night in the gym. There’ll even be a bar. It’s for under-eighteens,’ he adds, when he spots my doubtful look. ‘It is at school, remember? Everyone will be there. We could have a code and then, when she’s nearby, you could come in and, you know, pretend to recognise me.’

‘Except it wouldn’t be pretending because I would recognise you.’

His face clears. ‘Right! That makes it even better!’

He looks so hopeful and earnest, I’m reminded of Kimchi.

‘Considering the way vampires are viewed right now, I don’t think being mates with one is going to improve your street cred.’

A calculating expression appears on his face. ‘Well, instead of being my friend, you could, you know, be mean and evil. You could show your fangs and threaten everyone and then I could,’ he shifts his feet, ‘knock you out or something.’

‘Rogu3,’ I sigh. ‘You’re one of the most intelligent people I know. You don’t need to put on a show or be something you’re not. Just be yourself. You’re eloquent and articulate. You don’t need to do this.’

‘You don’t get it.’ He clenches his jaw in frustration. ‘I’m a freak. I’ve got spots and I’m skinny and my friends are more interested in binary code than normal teenage things.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘Normal? You’re kidding me, right? There’s no such thing as normal.’

‘I’m fourteen years old, Bo. It’s all about being normal. Surely you’re not so old that you can’t remember what it’s like?’

I choose not to answer that one. ‘Rogu3, I can’t go and threaten someone. Especially not kids! The vampires are trying to improve their reputations, not make them worse.’

‘You talk about the bloodguzzlers as if you’re not one of them.’

I run a hand through my hair. ‘I’ve had some, um, acceptance issues. But I
am
one of them and I can’t do what you’re asking. Look, why don’t I…’

‘Forget about it,’ he interrupts. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t help.’ He turns and walks out.

‘Rogu3!’ I call out, inwardly cursing. I run after him. ‘Wait!’ I’m just in time to see him push past a figure on the stairs. ‘Come back!’

‘Ms Blackman, I sincerely hope you are not drinking blood from a minor. That would not go down well at all. Particularly considering you are no longer under the protection of a Family.’

It’s sodding Inspector Foxworthy. I glare at him. ‘Get out of my way.’

‘I need to talk to you first.’ The outside door slams shut as Rogu3 makes his escape into the night air. Bloody hell.

‘Can’t it wait?’ I ask through gritted teeth.

The smile I receive reminds me of a clown with a painted grin on his mouth but with flinty eyes of stone behind the make-up. ‘No,’ he says, ‘it can’t.’ He looks me up and down. ‘Cute pyjamas though.’

*

Letting Kimchi out of the bedroom and sternly telling him to guard the room, I leave Foxworthy to cool his heels while I pull on something more appropriate. When I emerge, the dog is curled up on Foxworthy’s lap.

I give the policeman an amused look. ‘You realise he’s here because his owner thinks he might be a vampire.’ I shouldn’t have said it but I couldn’t resist.

He leaps up, knocking Kimchi to the floor where the dog immediately starts gnawing on a leg of the coffee table. ‘A bloodguzzling dog? I didn’t think that was possible.’

I’m tempted to prolong his concern but I yield to my better nature. ‘It’s not.’

Foxworthy doesn’t relax, edging as far away from the dog as possible. I’m surprised; I hadn’t thought the bullish inspector would be scared of much, let alone a daft mutt with more saliva than fight. I eye Foxworthy with as much suspicion as he’s eyeing the dog. Last time we met, he locked me up in a cell with a black witch. It didn’t go well.

‘You said I’m no longer under Family protection. I think Lord Montserrat might beg to differ on that one.’

The inspector perches on the arm of the sofa and folds his arms. ‘So the jury’s still out. We’ve never had a loose vampire to contend with. What happens if you go all psycho like that other one?’

‘The other one was an anomaly.’

‘So are you. If other bloodguzzlers follow your lead and go solo, well,’ he shrugs, ‘let’s just say I think the legislation might change. And for the better.’

I don’t actually disagree with him. I set a dangerous precedent when I walked out on the Montserrat Family, even if it was with Michael’s tacit blessing. I don’t want Foxworthy to know I’m on his side with this, however, so I mirror his body language by folding my own arms. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want you to know this isn’t my idea.’

‘But?’ I prompt.

‘But it would be appreciated if you would come to London General and talk to the victim.’

‘Corinne Matheson?’ I ask, taken aback.

If he’s surprised that I know her name, he doesn’t show it. ‘Indeed.’ The disapproving arch to his spine makes it clear what he thinks of the plan. ‘You might provide some insight into her story.’

‘Story’ is an interesting choice of words. ‘You think she’s lying,’ I say softly.

‘Oh, she was definitely attacked. And with a viciousness I’ve not seen in years.’

‘Except you don’t think it was a vampire who did it.’ He doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. ‘It’s nice that you’re coming to me for help,’ I comment. ‘Last night, your buddy Nicholls was not exactly forthcoming.’

He stands up and steps towards me. Kimchi starts to growl from behind my legs, and Foxworthy hastily sits back down again. ‘Yeah, except it didn’t stop you from interfering. You really screwed us over with that. Your antics compromised every piece of evidence we collected from the scene. It’s going to cause us problems if we ever nail the prick that did this and drag him to court.’ He smirks at me. ‘We’ve impounded your bike, by the way.’

I curse inwardly. ‘Do I get it back?’

‘I’ll consider releasing it if you cooperate.’ He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a set of handcuffs. I don’t need to see the Magix logo to know that they’ve been bespelled to be particularly effective against vampires. He dangles them at me. ‘For our own protection.’

‘I’m not putting those on.’

He lifts an eyebrow. I sense he’s pleased. ‘Then I will waste no more of your precious time.’

Shit. He called my bluff and won. ‘Fine,’ I snap. ‘Give them to me.’

Foxworthy doesn’t speak as I hold out my bare wrists. Avoiding touching my skin, he puts them on me. The effect is instantaneous; they sap all my energy so any movement I make is slow and sluggish, like I’m wading through jelly. For the first time he smiles genuinely.

The protestors, who have regrouped outside, let out a raucous cheer when Foxworthy leads me out. One lets fly hawks a ball of phlegm that lands in a glistening green mass on my shoulder.

‘Aren’t you going to do anything about that?’ I say to the inspector, as he puts me into a waiting car.

‘We live in a free country, Ms Blackman. People are allowed to protest.’

‘Doesn’t spitting count as assault?’

His eyes drift down to the phlegm dripping down my front then up to my face. ‘I didn’t see anything,’ he says, slamming the car door shut behind me.

Chapter Six: Flash of Gold

Foxworthy drags me through a series of labyrinthine, antiseptic-smelling corridors. He seems irritated that I’m struggling to keep up but, when I tell him that he’ll have to remove the vampire inhibitor handcuffs if he wants us to move faster, he merely grunts. Everyone gives us a wide berth, even when there’s little room for them to do so. One nurse lets out a small shriek and darts away as fast as her comfortable shoes can carry her. This fear of bloodguzzlers may be a recent development and a result of over-hyped media spin and one solitary psychopath, but every reaction serves to remind me that I really hate being a vampire.

Eventually we arrive at a small, private room. A uniformed copper stands outside. His gaze is friendly and I flash him a big smile, relieved that not everyone thinks I’m a monster. Then Foxworthy nudges me inside.

I’d been prepared to see someone battered and bruised but the state of Corinne Matheson takes my breath away. Her head has been shaved and there’s a line of stitches across her skull that are reminiscent of those on Frankenstein’s monster. Her right eye is massively swollen and her skin is mottled with angry-looking bruises. I glance down at her hands, which are wrapped in huge swathes of white bandages. Her one good eye blinks at me and a single bloodstained tear falls from it. I swallow hard.

‘Pretty, ain’t I?’ she croaks.

‘I need to know whether the blood is a problem for you,’ Foxworthy says to me.

I don’t answer immediately; I’m still too horrified by the nightmare vision of what used to be an attractive young woman.

‘Blackman!’ he snaps.

My head jerks. ‘Sorry,’ I mumble. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Good.’ He moves to the far wall, leaning his large body against it, his brows shoved together in a frown as he tracks my every move.

I do what I can to ignore him and sit down on the white plastic chair next to Corinne’s bed. ‘I’m Bo,’ I say gently. ‘I’m a vampire.’

I’m sure she’d scowl if her face were still capable of expression. ‘I’ve not been fucking brain-damaged, you know.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s just I’d like to talk to you about what happened and I’ll understand if you’re not comfortable discussing it with a vampire.’

Her eye slides away. ‘Got a dick?’

‘No.’

‘Then I ain’t got a problem.’

I nod. ‘I might ask you questions you’ve already answered, but it’d really help if you could repeat what you said before.’

Her head turns towards Foxworthy. ‘How many times am I going to have to do this?’

I touch her hand lightly. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. ‘As often as it takes to make sure the bastard who did this doesn’t ever do it again.’

She sniffs disgustedly but I sense her acquiescence.

‘Where were you when he attacked?’

‘On my way to meet a friend. I was waiting for a bus and he came out of nowhere. Had some kind of sedan car. He asked me if I wanted a lift and, when I declined, he grabbed me, punched me in the face and threw me into the back seat.’

‘Do you know what time it was?’

‘Around seven.’

It’s late enough in the year that seven o’clock is already dark. That doesn’t make a difference as far as most vampires are concerned – other than Matt and myself, bloodguzzlers aren’t allowed on the streets until they’re strong enough to cope with the sun – but the darkness would make it easier to abduct someone.

I glance at Foxworthy. ‘Were there any witnesses?’ He shakes his head, his eyes dark and brooding. ‘CCTV?’

‘No.’

‘What happened then, Corinne?’

‘I tried to get out but he locked the doors. He hit me again and I passed out. When I woke up I was in the park.’

‘Jubilee?’ She nods. ‘It’s a busy place,’ I comment. ‘He must have done something to avoid being noticed.’

She closes her eye. ‘He waited until I came to. He wanted me awake to see what he was doing. To make sure I wouldn’t miss a second.’ Her voice is cold and bitter. ‘When he started with the stakes, hammering them into my hands, I was screaming like a banshee. Someone should have heard.’

‘We’re looking into spell traces,’ Foxworthy interrupts.

There are privacy spells all over the place. They’re usually used in residential areas, and I’ve heard they’re a godsend these days for adult children who are unable to afford to fly the family nest. No matter how good the spell was though, the perp was taking a hell of a risk by choosing such a public area.

‘What did he look like?’

‘When I came round, he was wearing a balaclava and I couldn’t see a damn thing,’ Corinne says. ‘After I fainted a second time, he took it off. I guess he thought I was going to die so it didn’t matter what I saw. Six foot, brown hair, nose, eyes, mouth.’ She is obviously tiring of the questions.

‘Here.’ Foxworthy waves a piece of paper. When it becomes clear he’s not going to bring it to me, I struggle to my feet and shuffle forward. The longer these bloody handcuffs are on for, the more debilitating they become.

It’s a photofit. The man is good-looking, even with the harsh angles provided by the computer programme. I know it makes no sense but it seems unfair that he’s not as ugly on the outside as he is on the inside. He has a square jaw, short, wavy chocolate-brown hair and a brilliant white smile. His eyes are hazel and include the little red dot that signifies vampire. It’s a detailed photofit. It wouldn’t take long to compare him against the databases of the Families’ vampires. That’s if Medici finally cooperates, of course.

I scrub the base of my thumb over the photo, smoothing it across his mouth to wipe away a smudge. Then I frown as I realise the mark is part of the picture itself.

‘What’s this?’

‘Gold tooth.’

Ah. I look at Corinne, who’s staring at the bedsheet. ‘Are you sure about this?’

Her eyes fly to mine. ‘The gold tooth? It’s not a detail I’m likely to forget.’