Kissed by Fire (6 page)

“They went bonkers. Didn’t they?” I knew it
deep down inside where the part of me that sensed the vamps lived.
If I had no vamps to hunt, to kill, I’d probably end up mad as a
hatter, too. Fortunately for me, there seemed to be a never ending
supply of the suckers.

“Yes.” His voice was quiet, restrained, as if
he felt the pain of men who’d died over hundreds of years ago.
“Some of them made Jack the Ripper look like a joke. They had to be
eliminated. The others, the ones who weren’t quite as bad, were
locked away so they couldn’t hurt themselves or anyone else.
Eventually, whatever it was that made them the way they were, it
vanished from the gene pool. There hasn’t been a Dragon Hunter born
since the Crusades. The historical records were altered, deleting
any reference to the Dragon Hunters. Only a single copy was kept
and only those at the highest levels could access the original
documents.”

I shook my head. “More lies.”

“It was necessary, Morgan. Not only to
protect the dragons, but to avoid panic. The last thing we needed
was a panic over dragons, or worse, another witch hunt. This time
against the Dragon Hunters.”

I sighed and tipped my head back to catch a
glimpse of the stars. I couldn’t. The lights under Tower Bridge
were far too bright. That was the problem with living in a city.
You could never see the stars. Not really.

Alister was right. Things hadn’t much changed
in the past few hundred years. People were still afraid of what
they didn’t understand. And what they feared, they tended to
destroy. What a frigging mess.

“I assume you’ve read the real records.
That’s how you know all this.”

“Yes, of course. I am the head of MI8. It is
my job to know such things. The dragons withdrew behind Hadrian’s
Wall and vanished.”

“Hadrian’s Wall. No kidding?”

“You don’t think the Romans built that thing
just to keep the Celts out, do you?” There was laughter in his
voice.

I grinned back. “No, I suppose not.”

“The dragons? You’re sure no one’s heard from
them?” It seemed incredible the huge beasts had just simply
vanished.

“As I said, not since the last guardian was
withdrawn from Hadrian’s Wall over three hundred years ago.”

I lifted the scale to the dim light from the
streetlamp, turning it back and forth, letting the warmth trickle
down my skin. “Well, Alister, they’re talking now.”

Alister sighed as he stepped back from the
railing. “I’m afraid you may be right.”

“Damn skippy.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I
had that effect on people. “Never the less, it is not what I wanted
to hear.”

I shrugged. What else was there to say?

He turned and we both walked over to the
bench. Alister looked at Kabita who had been studiously avoiding
him. “Will you see this through?”

Her voice held just a hint of frost. “Of
course. Alison was my cousin. I won’t let this stand.”

Boy, I’d have hated to be the person
responsible for Alison’s death just then. Kabita sounded downright
scary.

He nodded. “Very good. Well, ladies, I
appreciate your time. If you don’t mind, I have a few things to
take care of tonight so Dex will see you back to the hotel.” So
formal, I had to refrain from smirking.

“What about you, Dad? Are you sure I can’t
drop you somewhere?” I couldn’t tell if Dex was just being polite
or if he was actually concerned about his father. The whole family
dynamic was just plain odd. Alister was the oddest of all.

“Thank you, no. I fancy a walk.”

Dex nodded and motioned us toward the parking
lot. As we headed to the car I cast a quick glance back. Alister
stood at the rail, staring over the water. I didn’t think I’d ever
seen anyone so alone.

***

“I think I’m going to head over to the old
neighborhood.”

Kabita paused in the midst of hanging up her
jacket. “Do you think that’s wise?” She carefully closed the
wardrobe door as I leaned up against the door jamb between our
connecting hotel rooms.

We’d invited Dex to join us for a drink, but
he’d politely refused. Probably for the best. Jet lag was starting
to take its toll. Still, I knew I wouldn’t sleep. Not yet.

“Probably not,” I admitted. “But it’s
something I have to do.” She didn’t say anything, so I told her. “I
dream about it sometimes.”

She sighed as she sank down onto the edge of
the bed. “I’m not surprised. That’s not the sort of thing a person
can forget.”

No. It wasn’t. You generally didn’t forget
the day you died. I changed the subject. “You hear from Inigo?” I’d
been surprised he hadn’t made the trip with us. Alison was his
cousin, too.

Kabita kicked off her shoes and left them
where they fell. Funny. I was usually the messy one

She shook her head. “It’s still early back
home and you know how he is.” She ran her fingers through her hair
and her hand shook just a little.

“You OK?” It was obvious seeing her father
again hadn’t been an easy thing, though I’d no idea why. She and
Dex had seemed OK, though. I was glad about that. For her sake.

She waved me off. “I’ll be fine. I’d just
like to be alone for a while. We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, OK.” I turned and started to
shut the door behind me, but her voice stopped me.

“You be careful out there.”

“I’m always careful.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid
of.”

***

I had the cab driver drop me off at the top
of the street. This was it. This used to be
my
street. A
couple minutes walk and I’d be home, back in my flat at the top of
the old Edwardian with the tall wooden sash windows that rattled
constantly in the wind.

Except that I didn’t live there anymore. Not
since that night three years ago. After I’d recovered from the
attack, Kabita had moved me into her place for a while so she could
train me properly. Shortly after that we’d moved to America and I’d
bought my first house. The little flat in Northwest London was
nothing but a memory.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The
air was heavy with damp. It was autumn and a tiny chill wormed its
way beneath my jacket. It had been cold then, too. October and the
leaves had crunched under my feet.

As I started down the street, memories came
flooding back. The scent of hearth fires mingling with dry leaves,
the kiss of the wind on my cheeks, the sound of my footsteps sharp
on the pavement.

Something heavy slammed into my left side.
I flew through the air, smashing into my neighbor’s stonework wall.
I actually heard my own ribs snap. The pain made me gag
.

I paused. My hands were shaking slightly and
my breath came in quick gasps as pain lanced through my side. It
was like I was living it all over again. I pressed my hand to my
side and the phantom pain dissipated.

I realized I was standing next to that very
stone wall, the same one that had snapped my ribs when I crashed
into it. I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and placed my palm
against the cold stone. Memories flooded back.

My mind struggled to make sense of the
fact that I was now lying on the freezing cold ground feeling like
I’d been rammed by a truck. Making a little mewling sound in my
throat, I groped for my handbag. Everything had spilled out across
the pavement. My fingers skittered through lipstick tubes and pens.
My phone. Where was it? I needed to call … someone
.

I gripped the top of the wall so hard I
nearly broke a nail. It was a memory. Just a memory, but I couldn’t
stop it.

I felt the fangs go right into the jugular.
It hurt more than anything. The pain ripped through me worse than
the broken ribs or the head trauma. I would have screamed, but I
had no breath. My hands fluttered against him, trying to beat him
off, but I had no strength. His clawed hands squeezed my throat
shut, and he slammed my head into the wall again.

The world went black and there was no more
pain and no more blood and no more fear. There was only the sound
of my heart beating slower and slower and slower. Then it
stopped
.

I sucked in a deep breath of cold night air,
shoving back the memories and the pain that came with them. As I
did I caught the faintest whiff of something underneath the normal
scents of the city.

The truth was that vampires smelled no
different than people. They retained the same scent in undeath as
they carried in life and my lovely super powers allowed me to
detect those odors most people would miss. On top of that was the
more metaphysical thing that went along with my other fun Spidey
senses. A sort of psychic aroma marking each vamp.

I took another deep breath. There it was
again. Very faint, but I knew that scent. I’d never forget it. It
was the scent of the vampire who’d killed me.

Still shaking, I made my way further down the
street, following that faint odor trail. After three years, there
wouldn’t be any sign of my attacker left. It would have been washed
away long ago, which meant he’d been here recently. Hunting.

Only I was a Hunter now, too. A smile
stretched across my face. Deep inside me the Darkness began to
laugh.

I snaked my mobile out of my pocket and
dialed Kabita. “Yes?”

“I’m on the hunt. Just thought you should
know.”

She hesitated. “Morgan … ”

“I have to do this.” I hung up then switched
off the phone. I wanted nothing to interfere with this hunt.

As I moved further down the street, I
mentally did a weapons check. I had only one blade. It was strapped
to my right ankle. No gun. I did have a garrotte hidden in my belt
for emergencies. It was the sort that could decapitate a vamp, but
it meant I’d have to get in close.

Then there was the special aerosol can. It
held an experimental liquid. Part holy water, part silver particles
and part salt, meant to work against both demons and vamps. I’d
never tried it before but now was as good a time as any.

I paused in the shadows of the next tree. I
could still catch his scent teasing at my nose like a trail of
cigarette smoke. Decidedly unpleasant, but also unmistakeable. I
couldn’t feel that itching at the base of my skull, so I knew he
wasn’t close, but he had been.

I paused in front of the giant wrought iron
gates leading into the park. Of course over here they called it a
“Recreation Commons.” Which was pretty much a snazzy way of saying
“park.”

The gates were locked since it was well past
sunset. I glanced up and down the shadowy street. The houses were
mostly dark, the occasional shaft of light spilling from an open
window. I didn’t see anyone around, though I could hear the faint
click click of high heels on pavement from further up the street.
The sounds were fading, so I figured it was as safe as it was going
to get.

The gate was one of those double sided things
that arched up in the middle and then curved down lower at the
sides so that it was only a little higher than my head. I gave a
little hop and grabbed the crossbar at the top of the gate closest
to the wall. Using the brick wall for leverage, I scrambled up and
onto the top of the gate.

I managed to turn around and lower myself
down the other side without falling on my head. I leaned up against
the wall for a minute to make sure no one had seen me before
heading into the park.

I’d never been in the park at night. Even
though, vampires aside, the neighborhood a safe one, it just wasn’t
something a smart girl like me did. I’d had no idea there wasn’t
any lighting. It just wasn’t something I’d noticed.

I did now. The deeper I moved into the park,
the darker it got. Especially around the pathways where there were
large clusters of trees. Still, I couldn’t sense any vampires so I
kept moving, following the faint scent of my killer.

It felt a little weird referring to him like
that, seeing as I was up and moving around just fine and obviously
not dead. But that’s exactly what he was: my killer.

About halfway through the park, just as I
passed the tennis courts, the scent trail grew a little stronger. I
paused to take a deeper breath. Yeah, definitely stronger, but
still not a recent trail. It was as though he used this part of the
park more often and left his imprint on it.

My palms grew warm and began to itch and
tingle. That same feeling of electricity I’d had when I touched the
dragon scale. I rubbed them against my jeans, trying to get rid of
the strange sensation. It didn’t work, so I ignored it and moved
on.

Hoops swayed slightly in the breeze sending
eerie shadows dancing across the abandoned basketball court. The
chains made the faintest
chink chink
as the wind tangled
them together. I’d never much liked this part of the park. There’d
always been lots of teenage boys around with their saggy jeans and
hoodies and aggressive behavior. Maybe it was a stereotype, but
like I said, no sense taking chances.

Of course these days I faced much worse than
gangs of teenaged hoodies with foul mouths and chips on their
shoulders. Not to mention, I carried bigger knives.

Up on my right was the entrance to the
cemetery. Back home, cemeteries tended to be huge affairs covering
several acres. They had posh on-site mortuary services and full
time grounds keepers. In London, cemeteries were usually small,
comprising an acre or less. There were no full time grounds keepers
and mortuary services were usually done in a storefront in town.
There were exceptions, of course, like Highgate Cemetery, but
generally the rule held.

This was an older cemetery, so it was nearly
full. There were only a few empty places up near the road where the
grounds keeper’s building loomed up out of the darkness.