He heard a discussion of some sort take place - well one side of a discussion anyway - but he couldn't make out what was being said.
There was a bang from the door, either it being slammed shut or barged open, but he dare not turn round.
Keep walking
, he told himself.
Look normal, get to the end of the road, get out of sight of the front door and then run
.
They were about a hundred feet away, when there was a bang and a flash followed by the sound of breaking glass.
He heard someone yell but couldn't tell if it was Nanny Voodoo or not.
Curiosity got too much and he turned to see white smoke rising out the broken windows of Nanny Voodoo's bungalow.
Panic set it, and he let go of Cassidy's hand.
"Run," he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - Voodoo Magic
Mr West watched the couple disappear down the road.
What a curious thing love is, he thought.
Humans were so trusting of chaos they'd even throw their relationships to chance.
Not like his people.
No, their betrothed was usually selected before either of them was born.
A match based on breeding.
Was there any love amongst his people?
He was sure there was, but not like this, not like the couple strolling down the road.
She seemed younger than him for a start, but not by more than a couple of years - Mr West decided she dressed herself younger than she actually was, although why you would want to hide your true age was one of this world's many mysteries he had yet to solve.
He seemed pale and lanky by comparison, his spiky hair the epitome of chaos.
What had attracted them to each other he wondered.
In this chaotic world where anyone could be anything, how did you find your life partner?
Maybe they had some common interest, maybe they had seen each other across a room and known.
He'd heard humans talking about love at first sight - a preposterous notion, how could simple sight of a person inform you they were a good match?
But deep down, there was something so dreamlike about that; that with purely adverse probability, you could find that special someone.
They called that feeling romantic.
He wasn't sure his people had even known such a feeling, but it was every bit as magical to him as what the wizards were doing out in Venefasia.
Mr South returned from round the back of the building.
"No-one coming out," he said, then nodding toward the door, "She still not answered?"
Mr West shook his head.
"No," he said with slight impatience in his voice.
"Not yet."
He rapped on the door again, a little more forcefully this time.
"I don't buy from the door," shouted a voice.
"Go away."
Mr West bent down, opened the letter box and shouted through it, carefully taking the opportunity to see if he could spot anyone else in the house.
"I can assure you we're not selling.
We're investigating a theft and just wondered if you could help us with our enquiries."
"Are you the police?"
The voice sounded nervous, slightly unsure.
"Of a sorts," lied Mr West.
"Yes."
"There's a lot of criminal gangs round these parts.
Taking advantage of old folk like me."
Mr West looked up to Mr South who was rolling his eyes and nodding his head toward the door.
Yes, we could break in
, thought Mr West,
that would be the plan.
That's what we are expected to do
.
"Yes," he shouted through the letter box.
"You can't be too careful these days."
"I want to see some ID," a defiant voice shouted back.
Mr West tutted.
"I could show you, Nanny Voodoo, but we'd both know it would be fake.
Now you can open this door or you can cause a scene.
It's your choice."
"Why should I trust you?"
Was that fear in her voice?
Mr West smiled.
"You can't," he replied.
"But I can assure you that if you choose to be difficult, this could become very painful."
There was silence from inside the house.
West indicated for Mr South to get round the back again, just in case she was trying to escape.
He nodded and ran down the side passage.
There was a crash, something falling on the floor.
She
was
trying to escape.
West shouldered the door, the frame splintering as it burst open onto her lounge.
So rotten, a normal man could have probably broken in.
Mr West scanned the room.
The woman was nowhere to be seen.
There was the sound of something else hitting the floor, and he darted round the sofa to see the old lady standing on the sink, trying to push her way through a window that was far too small to allow her through.
South came in from the back, a bedroom from the looks of it, as West shot out his hand. It metamorphosed into a tentacle as it extended, throwing a limb round Nanny Voodoo, and pulling her screaming toward the lounge.
She popped out the window, like a cork out a bottle, the weight of her catching West unawares, her head smashing down into the sink
"Careful," moaned South, "we need her alive."
The blow was enough to smash the sink, red pouring down the woman's face as she continued to scream, clutching at the tentacle, as West dragged her across the bathroom floor and into the lounge.
They'd been to see a lot of people these past few days, and West was able to divide them into one of two categories based on their reactions.
Those that knew nothing or little of the vampires’ extinction would stand there open mouthed at the sight of the tentacle limb, would hardly move until it was wrapped around them and the tip fastened to their temple.
But those who had something to hide, whether it be the knowledge of what had taken place or the whereabouts of one of the people they were after, they acted like Nanny Voodoo here.
They tried to run, screaming and crying like a baby as a tentacle wrapped round them.
Surely they should know there would be no escape.
If the Vampire Council hadn't been able to defend themselves, what chance did someone like Nanny Voodoo have?
He watched as she snatched at her glittering necklace, the chain breaking into parts as she ripped it from her neck.
She threw it at him, and he instinctively turned as if to shield himself.
The blast threw him hard against the far wall, and for a second he thought he blacked out.
His ears were ringing and his eyes were blurred.
He thought for a second it was raining, but he was indoors and it was only when he suffered a cut that he realised it was some of the shattered glass from the window above.
He blinked several times, trying to bring his eyes into focus, but with the swirling clouds of smoke, there was little for him to focus on.
As he slowly gained reuse of his senses, he felt pain in his tentacle arm.
He withdrew it to find it much shorter, ending in a blackened and burnt stump.
He wanted to cradle it, to succumb to the pain.
No, he told himself.
He had another twenty-six, the loss of a limb would not hinder him.
Instead he needed to find Nanny Voodoo. That was easier said than done in a room full of smoke. She had been as close to the explosion as he had; she wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry.
He started to crawl, every muscle, both real and synthetic, as fluid as steel.
Blind and deaf, he edged himself forward, heading toward where the front door would be, the smoke streaming out of it, it too trying to make its escape from this room.
He wondered where Mr South was.
Had he been injured?
With any luck he would have taken the full effects of the blast, and another of his problems would have been dealt with.
No matter, his only concern was finding Nanny Voodoo.
He found her trying to claw her way out the door.
Her legs seemed useless, either broken or too painful to use.
The gash on her forehead had been joined by bleeding from the nose, ears and eyes.
"Clever," he said trying to grab at her with his blackened limb but not able to adjust to its new stunted length.
"Mana bomb in your necklace."
He doubted she could hear him, even though he was probably shouting.
No matter, she wouldn't get far.
At least she had had the sense to use the door this time instead of trying to fit through that window.
Had she got through, she could have dropped down into the neighbour's passageway and then...
Mr West's mouth opened.
The boy and the girl.
That was why they couldn't find the notebook, they were after the wrong species.
But the report had clearly said vampire.
What kind of vampire could go out in daylight?
"Oh, how stupid, Mr West," he told himself.
"A half-vampire.
Why didn't you think of it?"
That would explain everything.
Those sorts of cross-breeds would never be fully welcome by the majority of vampires, would have kept away from the Vampire Council, could move in daylight so wouldn't be restricted in the way normal vampires were.
Everything now fitted into place.
This was why data models were no good in this world.
The chances of a half-vampire were so remote they wouldn't have been worth even coding, yet probability - probability would have made an allowance, even if it was a million to one.
Because this is what had happened here, a million to one shot.
He went to stand up, the room seeming to spin as he did so.
He caught sight of Mr South the other side of the sofa, his face cut, his orifices bleeding.
Did he look just as bad?
"It was the kids," he shouted, but Mr South just shook his head and pointed to his bleeding ears.
West pointed to the door and staggered to the exit.
As he did so, Nanny Voodoo grabbed his leg.
He reached down with his injured tentacle and despite the pain from the burns, swiftly wrapped it round her head and with one swift move, broke her neck.
Clutching at the tentacle with his human arm, he staggered through the doorway, the door itself having been blown onto the front lawn by the blast.
He stepped into clean air and automatically started coughing as his lungs evacuated themselves of smoke.
Mr South staggered out after him, retching from the inhalation.
There was no time to waste though.
They needed to catch up with the boy and girl before they had chance to get too far away.
Mr West tucked the remains of his tentacle, Napoleon-esque, in his shirt, and tapped Mr South on the shoulder.
South spun round and Mr West indicated they needed to make their way down the street.
He fumbled in his pockets as they ran, trying to find his mobile, hoping he might to call in some reinforcements to aid the search.
But even though he'd realised he'd not be able to hear anything they said back to him, the phone was still no use, having been smashed in the mana blast.
They were on their own then, faced with a myriad of streets and turnings each of which the half-vampire and his girlfriend could have elected to have taken.
There was no time for reasoned calculus.
No, instead Mr West must simply navigate based on where he'd run if being chased.
Mr South seemed oblivious to the randomness of their route, and he wondered if he was distracted by the slow return of his hearing, the sound of sirens just audible over the ringing in West’s own ears.
"I'm going to find you," he said out loud, addressing the half-vampire as if he was there. "You can't hide from me for very long now I know what you look like."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - Larry McNally’s
Maureen had no idea what time it was but it was night in Venefasia.
The shops were closed yet the various inns and taverns they passed continued to spill both people and the noise of revelry.
Joseph lead the way, lumbering ahead as Maureen walked briskly to keep up with him.
What little foot traffic they encountered gave way to the troll.
Joseph seemed to know where he was going, weaving through the city with a determination that never paused to wonder whether it should go left or right.
He took Maureen down passageways so narrow, even Maureen could have reached out and touched both sides with her hands.
How Joseph managed to squeeze through was beyond Maureen’s comprehension.
As they travelled through the city, the orange glow of the electric street lights gave way to the white of gas and back again, depending on whether the area had been modernised or not.
The electric areas also saw a lot of construction, new buildings rising like reanimated skeletons of former properties.
Nothing over three stories though, the reason becoming clear as they turned off a street into a large plaza.