New Order (23 page)

There are several squawks from inside and a child’s yell, ‘Mum! Derek hit me!’

The woman takes a deep breath, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s so distracted by her children that I don’t think she’s noticed I’m not human. ‘Are you police?’ she inquires.

‘No. I’m a private investigator.’

There’s another barrage of shouts from within. She half turns and yells back, ‘Stop fighting and get your homework done!’ Then she sighs. ‘Do you have kids?’

She’s definitely not spotted I’m a vampire. I shake my head.

‘Well, count yourself lucky.’

Even though I know she doesn’t really mean it, I feel a bit sad. I stick to the topic, however. ‘Did you know Dahlia?’

‘Sure. We met up at least once a week for coffee. You know, when she wasn’t…’ her voice trails off.

When it’s clear she’s not going to complete her sentence, I prompt her. ‘When she wasn’t what?’

‘Out.’

There’s more to this than meets the eye. ‘Out doing what?’

‘Look, it’s really none of my business,’ she begins.

‘Dahlia might be in danger,’ I say softly.

She snorts. ‘The only danger Dahlia Templeton is in is not remembering which hotel she’s left her knickers in.’

‘She was having an affair?’

The woman lowers her voice. ‘They were at it like rabbits. I can’t believe her husband never caught on.’

‘Do you know who the man is?’

‘Simon someone.’

‘Can you remember his last name?’

There’s a scream. Her face twists. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go.’

‘Wait! His name?’

She shrugs. ‘All I know is he’s a copper who works out of Belgrave. Now, I really do have to go.’

‘Thank you,’ I start to say, but she’s already closing the door.

I rub my chin thoughtfully. Despite Stephen Templeton’s dodgy dealings, perhaps Dahlia’s kidnap is the result of her own actions. A jealous wife maybe? Or this Simon guy himself? It could even be Stephen Templeton: he might have found about the affair, killed her and made it look like an abduction. But why would he not tell the police if that was the case? It would make his story far more plausible.

I switch to the house on the right, hoping I’ll be able to talk to someone who knows more about Dahlia’s extra-marital affairs. When this door opens, however, it’s a perky looking kid who answers. ‘Yes?’ Her mouth drops. ‘You’re a vampire! That’s so cool! I want to be a vampire when I grow up.’

‘Stella! What did I tell you about answering the door to strangers?’ A man appears, drying his hands with a towel. When he sees me he drops it. ‘Stella, go back into the house.’

‘But Dad…’

‘Now.’ She puts on a face but does as she’s told.

I guess I’m no longer incognito. ‘Hi. I’m Bo Blackman. I’m here to investigate…’

‘You’re not welcome.’ He slams the door in my face.

I grit my teeth and knock again. He opens it a crack. ‘We’ve got children! You need to get out of here before I call the police!’

‘I can’t come in unless you invite me, sir.’

‘I’m not fucking well inviting you!’ he hisses.

‘What I meant,’ I explain patiently, ‘is that even if I wanted to hurt you, I couldn’t because I can’t come in until you invite me.’

His face pales. ‘Hurt us? What have we done to you?’

‘No, I…’

He shuts the door again. Through the window I see him go to the phone and pick it up, and realise he’s making good on his threat. Arse. The police won’t arrest me but they’ll make damned sure I do nothing else to bother the good people of this neighbourhood. I wonder how they’ll react when they spot Templeton’s fake crime scene tape.

There’s nothing else I can do here for now so I make myself scarce. I keep thinking about the look on Stella’s dad’s face when he realised that I was a vampire. Revulsion. Hatred. Fear. All the things I feel about myself.

I remember that the Magix headquarters are between here and Belgrave police station. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a short stop, just in case.

When I reach the imposing building, I take several minutes to walk round it. It’s a gleaming edifice of steel and glass, not dissimilar to where Streets of Fire is housed. The difference between the two is that the internet company purports to be run by humans, when in fact it’s run by the most terrifying of triber species, whereas Magix pretends it’s a triber corporation and, as far as I’ve uncovered so far, is actually wholly human. Ironically, the only group that’s honest about who they are and what they’re doing is the vampires ‒ and they’re the ones who are attacked for being evil.

I’m tempted to try another covert entry. After all, the more I do, the better I’ll become. With Frolic’s unrealistic deadline looming over me, however, I decide against it. If she wants the information by dawn then she can damn well live with the methods by which I obtain it. I grin at the thought of her face if she knew what I was up to.

I stride back to the front doors. The first five floors are given up to the Magix emporium and, unsurprisingly by this hour, they’re dark and closed. The floors higher up are still well lit, presumably occupied by another company that demands that its employees work late. It makes my life easier. I bang loudly and continuously on the reinforced glass door, startling several passers-by. I keep thumping my fist until a security guard appears, peering at me from the other side.

‘We’re shut,’ he mouths.

My grin widens and I bare my teeth, allowing my fangs to grow. He jumps back.

‘I want to speak to the boss,’ I yell.

He gestures rudely so I run my tongue over the sharp edges of my teeth as if promising further action. The guard disappears. I lift my fist and continue banging.

It takes less than ten minutes. Eventually the guard returns with a buddy by his side – and a woman wearing a blush-pink trouser suit. On anyone else it would look ridiculous but her olive skin allows her to carry it off. She says something to the guards and they scowl, then one of them mutters into a radio. I hear a click as the front door is unlocked.

I incline my head in acknowledgement. The woman pulls the door open; apparently she’s braver than the goons by her side. ‘May I help you?’

I retract my fangs. ‘I would like to speak to whoever’s in charge.’

‘You can make an appointment for later in the week and I’m sure Mr Connell will be able to free up some time.’

‘I’m under time constraints. It’s imperative that I meet with him now.’

‘He’s not here.’

I smile. ‘Really? Then whose limousine is parked round the back? The one with the rather distinctive number plate?’ I frown as if trying to recall, then snap my fingers. ‘MAG1X. That’s it.’

Her mouth tightens. ‘Which Family are you from?’

I look her in the eyes. ‘I’m not with a Family.’

The only indication that she’s surprised is the slight furrow that appears on her forehead. She looks me up and down. ‘So you’re the one. I thought you’d be taller.’

It’s my turn to be startled. Outside of the five Families, no one is supposed to know about my defection; the announcement isn’t taking place until next week. The thought that Magix has somehow penetrated the inner workings of the Families is disturbing.

‘We know more than you think, Ms Blackman.’

Somehow I doubt that. I raise my chin. ‘I need to meet with Mr Connell in private. Right now.’

‘To what does the meeting pertain?’

‘That’s between me and him. But he’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say.’

She gazes at me thoughtfully. ‘I can allow that.’

‘Ms Swanson, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ the first guard interrupts.

She throws him such a quashing look that I’m impressed. I could learn something from this woman. ‘It’s the perfect opportunity to field test our latest item. If you’re going to enter, Ms Blackman, we need to take precautions.’ She holds up a set of handcuffs. They appear simple enough but I can sense the magic clinging to them. The fact that she brought them with her, however, suggests she was prepared to let me to enter all along.

I’m wary but prepared to submit to her demands. ‘No problem,’ I state confidently.

Swanson jerks her head and the two guards walk forward, neither of them looking happy. They take the handcuffs and I hold out my wrists helpfully. The guards snap them on, the slightest tremor visible in their hands as they do so.

The second the cold metal touches my skin, I feel it. I touch my fangs with my tongue again and realise that I can no longer make them grow. I try to lift my hands but my movements feel slow and sluggish. Swanson watches me carefully.

‘How do you feel?’ she inquires. I give her a dirty look. She claps her hands together. ‘Excellent! Our spell techs promised they’d work but it’s not easy to find test subjects.’

I find my voice. ‘What the hell are these?’

‘Vampire inhibitors.’ She holds up a hand. ‘I know, I know, the name isn’t very catchy. We’ve been toying with the idea of calling them Bloodguzzler Bonds. Or perhaps something more generic, to promote more of a sense of safety and well-being. What do you think of “Protectors”?’

‘Why?’

She laughs. ‘Because they’ll protect humans from nasty vampires, of course. Now we know they work, we can put them into mass production almost immediately. They’ll fly off the shelves.’ She gives me a wink. ‘Thanks to the current climate of fear.’

Bloody hell. I stare at her wide-eyed. There’s been little in the past to restrain vampires. The thought of what these things could do if they land in the hands of the Families’ enemies is terrifying.

‘Don’t look so worried, Ms Blackman. After all,’ she smiles, ‘people still have to get close enough to put them on to their would-be vampire attackers.’

Until the Magix techs work out a way to make the spell attach itself to a weapon as well as to restraints, I think to myself. It’s probably only a matter of time. Assuming that is, they’ve not already managed it.

‘How did you make these?’ I ask. I need to find out as much as I can about them so I can pass on the information to the Families.

Swanson laughs. ‘Oh, they’ve taken years of development. We don’t let any products onto the street until we are convinced of their efficacy. Usually we spend considerable time trialling them, often on ourselves and own employees. Of course, it’s harder with products that target vampires. There aren’t any bloodguzzlers working here.’ She arches an eyebrow in my direction. ‘Mr O’Connell urged us to find suitable test subjects. He wants to make the world a safer place for everyone. He’s a true idealist.’

I swallow my nausea at her fawning tone. She moves away from the entrance and gestures me inside. I can still move but I feel as if I have a ton of bricks weighing me down. Flanked by the two guards, I shuffle forward. Despite Swanson’s words, I doubt I’m the first vampire these bloody things have been tried on but I’m damned if I’m going to let anyone see just how much they affect me.

It takes us a long time to reach the lifts. Swanson swipes her card while I stare at the lift doors. One side is painted with a huge black-magic symbol, while the other side is emblazoned with a white-magic sign. They look incongruous together.

The doors open and Swanson walks into the lift. The guards are taking no chances: they grip my arms in case the spell on the cuffs fails. If the magic starts to fade, I could probably take them out in about three seconds flat but I play the role of meek little vampire and don’t react. I sense that, given the chance, guard number one would be more than happy to slap me around for a few hours.

We finally emerge on the top floor where the carpets are deep and expensive and the walls are filled with familiar looking pieces of art. Profits must be high. Then again, it’s no wonder when the company is so adept at putting the competition out of business.

I’m dropped on a stylish but remarkably uncomfortable sofa in the waiting area. A large television screen flickers into life. At first I think it’s showing an art-house film, then I realise it’s not a film at all but the CCTV footage of me inside Fingertips and Frolics. It starts with my first foray, with Frolic moving towards me. I’m thankful there’s no sound and the camera is positioned in such a way that our lips can’t be read. The people here already know too much about me as it is; I don’t need them to realise how desperate I am to find a cure for vampirism. Even if they knew where to find one, it would give them too strong a hold over me.

The screen flips to my illegal entry into the now-empty store. My movements are tracked, up to the point where my face looms into the camera and is distorted by its proximity. Then the screen goes dark as I successfully cover the lens with the disposable coffee cup. Watching myself is uncomfortable.

‘We’ve had some issues with the proprietor of that shop,’ a deep voice says. There’s no rancour in his tone. If anything, he sounds pleased by the fact that Magix is important enough to have ‘issues’ with other magic businesses.

I try to stand up but I’m foiled by whatever it is the cuffs are doing to my system. Their effect seems to be growing stronger.

‘Stay seated.’ The man smiles. ‘I understand how overpowering the spell can be.’

‘Mr O’Connell?’ I ask.

He sits opposite me. ‘Indeed.’ He puts his palms together as if in prayer and gazes at me speculatively. ‘Are you working for this woman? Frolic?’

I consider my answer. ‘Let’s just say I’m doing her a small favour.’

‘You know, it’s not our fault her business had to shut down.’

‘Really?’ I say, disbelief in my voice.

‘It’s true. Internet sales, the recent recession, consumer habits.’ He shrugs. ‘Many factors are responsible. Not to mention her own poor management. I feel for her, though. How is she doing?’ He seems eager for information about her.

‘Fine,’ I answer shortly. ‘Did you kill her husband?’ I keep my tone free from accusation but I watch his reaction carefully.

‘Is he dead?’ There’s the oddest flicker of amusement in his eyes. ‘Goodness, no. Whatever gave you that idea?’ I can’t tell whether he’s lying or not. He leans towards me. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

I shake my head. ‘No. I’m here for a little
quid pro quo
.’