Authors: Helen Harper
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
‘Kakos blood,’ I whisper.
He throws back his head and laughs. The other diners turn towards him, startled. ‘So there is a cure. But you’ll never know if it works because you’ll never get close to a Kakos daemon to find out.’
I don’t reply immediately. I can’t work out whether he’s happy, relieved or just damn amused. ‘Have you ever met one?’ I ask finally.
‘A Kakos daemon? Nobody meets one and lives to tell the tale. I thought you’d know that.’ His eyes scan my face. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’
‘Are you?’ I snap. ‘You don’t seem very fucking sorry.’
He glares at me. ‘I knew it wouldn’t work. So did you but you needed to accept it. I
am
sorry for you, Bo. I know how hard this has been.’
‘No,’ I say softly, ‘you don’t. You’ve been more supportive than I expected and I appreciate how far out on a limb you’ve gone for me. But you don’t know what this is like for me. You can’t know.’
A muscle jerks in his cheek. ‘I know you’re afraid of me. I know there’s a part of you that’s disgusted not only by your own vampirism but mine.’
I start to shake my head. ‘No, I’m not…’
‘I saw the look in your eyes, Bo. You’re fooling yourself if you think otherwise.’
The waitress appears with our orders in tow. I flinch, then damn myself for the action. ‘This is Anna,’ she says to Michael with a flirty grin. Her smile dims slightly when she turns to me. ‘And this is Jack.’
‘Thank you,’ Michael murmurs, although he doesn’t take his eyes off me. ‘Go on then, Bo. Prove you’re not repelled. Drink your fill.’
Damn him. My stomach rumbles and my fangs lengthen but I can’t stop myself from wanting to vomit. Anna pulls up a chair and holds back her hair, exposing her jugular. Michael licks his lips, baring his brilliant white teeth. Still watching me, he slowly sinks his fangs into her skin. Bile rises in my throat. The vampette closes her eyes and moans slightly. Michael pulls away for a moment. His mouth is smeared with blood. ‘Come on, Bo,’ he urges. ‘Drink.’
I look at my willing victim and think about the Soho prostitute I ran away from. This situation doesn’t seem any different; it’s just more expensive. I take a deep breath. I’ve been doing okay with Connor; I can do this too. I grab Jack’s wrist but Michael shakes his head. ‘Not there.’
I snarl softly. Jack gives me a nervous smile. I drop his wrist. ‘It’s fine,’ I say, not sure whether I’m attempting to reassure the vampette or myself.
Jack sits down and stretches out his neck. I stare at the tiny throbbing pulse. Michael’s still watching me. I grit my teeth and lean over, my teeth nipping into Jack’s skin. Warm blood fills my mouth and I gag. I force myself to swallow but I barely manage a few slugs before I’m pushing him away.
‘Go,’ I whisper, ‘just go.’
Jack backs away, the chair falling with a loud crash as he stands up. Anna, Michael’s vampette, looks at him questioningly and he nods. ‘Go.’
He folds his arms and leans back. ‘Of course you’re not disgusted,’ he says sarcastically.
The waitress starts to come over, seemingly worried. Michael holds up a hand, forcing her back.
‘I’m disgusted by blood,’ I protest. ‘By drinking blood. I’m not disgusted by myself or by you.’
‘You can pretend to yourself all you like. It’s not going to change the truth.’ He looks away. ‘Your PTSD is probably as much a result of being a vampire as because of what happened with Nicky.’
‘I don’t have PTSD!’
‘You see?’ he says quietly. ‘You’re lying to yourself.’ Frustrated, I ball my fists. He holds my gaze and sighs. ‘I should be the one apologising. I shouldn’t have got so angry yesterday. You’ve got no idea what you do to me. You’re under my skin, Bo. You’re in my dreams.’ His eyes don’t waver. ‘I think we might have something here and I know you feel the same. I’ve seen the way you look at me. But if we do this now, you’ll end up hating me and despising yourself. You need to come to terms with what you are first.’
‘I…’ I shake my head to clear away my turbulent emotions. ‘I…’
‘You don’t need to say anything.’ He passes me a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it. ‘Arzo thinks he’s found some suitable offices. There’s a flat above where you can stay. Work with him. Set up this business. Goodness knows, we need it. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll talk again.’
He gestures to the waitress for the bill and she almost sprints to our table. He signs the check without looking at it and glances back at me. His mouth twists. ‘Just do me a favour and don’t get hurt. And don’t lie to yourself. It’ll make things harder.’ A ghost of a smile crosses his face. ‘Ursus came across his rather mangled bike this morning so I’ve taken the liberty of getting you one of your own. It’s a gift, not payment.’
He tosses a set of keys towards me and stands up, then moves round the table and bends down, his lips brushing lightly against mine. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Bo.’
He walks out. I touch my lips with my fingers. ‘Count on it,’ I whisper.
My hands drop to the table. I realise I’ve still not confronted him about the photo. I don’t think that the person who spoke with such honesty and displayed such altruism could be the monster the picture suggests. I’ll get rid of the thing as soon as I can.
What I’ll do about the vial of X’s blood is another matter. I’ll make up my mind later.
* * *
When I stumble out of the restaurant, every pair of eyes in the place follows me. I’m in such a rush to depart that don’t give Michael’s present the attention it deserves. I simply climb on and quickly head to the address he gave me. Although it’s on a busy thoroughfare close to Covent Garden, the building itself is nondescript; it could definitely do with a coat of paint. There’s a dentist on the ground floor but the offices higher up seem to be unoccupied. Thus far, I’m not impressed.
I climb a set of winding stone stairs to the first floor and peer round the corner. Arzo is in the middle of the room, directing a sweating Connor to move a desk further back; Matt is scrubbing a grimy window as if his life depended on it. Not wanting to be drafted into the relocation process, I’m tempted to tiptoe back down and return later but Arzo is far too canny not to notice me.
‘Bo!’ he barks. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Um…’
‘Honestly, between you and Peter, I feel like I’m herding cats. We’ve got very little time before the official announcement. These walls need to be painted, the furniture needs to be sorted out. Connor needs to stop taking a break every five seconds…’
‘That’s not fair!’ Connor protests. ‘I’m only human. I don’t have super strength.’
Arzo’s lips purse. ‘You’re right. Swap places with Matthew.’
Matt grins, waving frantically in my direction before swooping over and picking the desk up as if it’s made out of matchsticks. Connor stares at him, his mouth dropping open. When he doesn’t immediately move to the window, Matt helpfully drops the desk then picks Connor up, throwing him over his shoulder and depositing him in place. He hands Connor the cleaning rag and spray bottle. Connor still hasn’t managed to shut his mouth.
‘Is Peter here?’
‘Sure,’ Arzo replies sarcastically. ‘He’s just using his invisibility cloak at the moment.’
‘It’s not beyond the realms of possibility.’
He shoots me a droll look. ‘The glamour spell that can achieve that would be something to see.’
I think of Magix. ‘Actually, speaking of spells, there’s a company that’s created some kind of binding device for vampires.’
‘Another holy water trinket,’ Arzo dismisses with a snort.
‘No. It’s the real deal.’ I tell him about the handcuffs without wasting time going into too many specifics.
He looks unhappy. ‘That’s just what we need. Did you tell Lord Montserrat?’ I shake my head. ‘I thought you were meeting him.’
I scratch my neck awkwardly. ‘We were, um, talking about other things.’
Arzo raises his eyebrows. ‘Indeed. He’s a good man, Bo.’
I nod, biting my lip. ‘So, this is it then? Our new office suite.’
‘It’s not the Ritz but it’ll do for now.’
‘Mmm.’
‘It’s a central location. There’s a lot of potential for expansion and we need people to feel comfortable. They can’t walk into an atmosphere that reeks of vampire.’ His eyes are serious. ‘We can’t screw this up, Bo. It’s too important.’
‘You don’t think the protests are just a knee-jerk reaction? That things will settle down in a month or two?’
‘You’re too young to remember Enoch Powell.’
‘His name rings a bell.’
‘Rings a bell? He’s a vital part of British history. “As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see ‘the River Tiber foaming with much blood’.” He was talking about immigration, but he may as well have included tribers. He came damn close to inciting violence and riots like this city has never seen.’ Arzo’s shoulders tense. ‘And this city has seen a lot. Right now, the movement against us is disorganised. It consists of pockets of people who are using fear to drive their actions. The second a figurehead emerges and becomes an anti-vampire spokesperson, we’re doomed. We need to dampen down the groundswell of fear before we get to that point, otherwise there really will be rivers of blood.’
His expression is filled with foreboding. I try to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Well, we should get a move on then, shouldn’t we?’ I look round the room. ‘Have you managed to find a boss for us?’
‘Not yet.’
Bugger it. I open my mouth to voice my concern at the combined lack of experience of everyone apart from Arzo himself but by his posture, I realise it’s unnecessary.
‘You should go upstairs, Bo. Have a look at your living quarters and see if there’s anything you need. Once we open our doors, there won’t be time for shopping.’
‘Okay.’
‘Then you need to go to the East End.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s where Simon Beauvoit lives.’
My stomach drops. I stare at him. ‘W-who?’ I stammer out. Arzo looks at me and I close my eyes briefly. ‘How did you know?’
‘Let’s just say I caught sight of an old friend leaving the Montserrat mansion some days ago. It didn’t take much to work out what you were up to.’
‘You don’t give much away. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You seemed hell-bent on keeping it a secret. The trouble is,’ he says, casting an arm round the room, ‘if this is going to work, we can’t keep secrets.’
I swallow. ‘Do you want to come with me?’
‘That part of my life is over. There are echoes of it still,’ he puts a hand to his heart, ‘painful echoes, but I put it behind me a long time ago. Perhaps you should work on putting away your past too. But Bo?’
‘Yes?’
‘Thank you. The sentiment is much appreciated.’ I offer a tiny smile. He smiles back, although his eyes look sad. ‘By the way, your grandfather called. Something about some documents you sent him in the post? He said to tell you they were the most frank and full files on a single person he’s ever seen. He wanted to know where you got them from.’
‘Long story. It’s related to Magix though. They gave me the files they had on a witch in return for some information. The witch is now dead. I think they might be creating some new kind of black-and-white hybrid witch.’
Arso stares at me.
‘I know, I know,’ I tell him. ‘It’s impossible.’
‘Nothing’s impossible.’ He rubs his forehead as if he’s in pain. ‘The world’s being turned on its head. I wonder if anything will ever be the same again.’ He shakes himself. ‘Now get yourself upstairs. And here,’ he says, throwing me a bar of chocolate. ‘A house-warming gift for you.’
I glance down at it. ‘You really do know far too much.’
He winks. I clutch the chocolate, salute him and go upstairs to my new residence. It’s spartan but clean, and there’s already some basic furniture. I give everything a cursory examination but my mind is on what Arzo said about secrets. My life seems to be built on a shaky foundation of hidden truths. By maintaining their secrecy, the five Families may have inadvertently caused the problems they’re now having with the human majority. To be a private investigator is to be absorbed into the world of secrets. Michael Montserrat thinks I’m keeping secrets from myself. And I have two objects in my half-destroyed leather jacket that may be the biggest secrets of all.
I pull out the photo first, staring at it for the umpteenth time. I touch Michael’s face but avoid looking at the corpses at his feet. Then I go into the bedroom. Lifting up the mattress on the bed, I shove the photograph underneath as far as it will go and smooth over the sheets.
Next I take out X’s vial. I wonder how much it would be worth on the open market. I could probably sell it and live comfortably off the proceeds for the rest of my unnaturally long life. Of course, if I drink it and it works, I’ll achieve everything I’ve been striving for since the day Michael told me the truth about what I’d become. I’ll also lose Michael forever. Vampires don’t date humans. And the loss of my vampiric status will probably make me useless to the agency. I’m already regarded with suspicion by most of the vampires I meet; if I become human again, I’ll really be
persona non grata
. Neither the humans nor the bloodguzzlers will trust me. And I dread to think what will happen to the anti-vampire movement if it becomes known that there is a viable cure.
With a heavy heart, I head into the kitchen and open the battered fridge. I place the vial at the back, then prop Arzo’s chocolate in front of it so it’s no longer visible. Out of sight, out of mind. For now at least.
* * *
Less than an hour later, I’m outside Inspector Beauvoit’s house. Now that I know Arzo is aware of the truth, I’m tempted to leave Stephen and Dahlia Templeton to it. But a promise is a promise: I told Templeton I’d do what I could and I’m not about to go back on my word. Not any more.
Thankfully, Beauvoit must be off duty because there’s a light on. Either that or Dahlia Templeton is home alone. I smirk at the thought of her opening the door. I should have brought her husband along with me ‒ it would have been entertaining to see the look on her face. Taking a deep breath, I ring the doorbell.