The Parliament of Blood (37 page)

‘There is mention in Oldfield's journal of the Vrolak, or Wolf Bat,' Sir William said thoughtfully. ‘Not many details, obviously, but I think that must be the pertinent species. He notes that it spends much of its life dormant, waking when it senses food.'

As they made their way through the deserted, foggy streets, Eddie's thoughts were elsewhere. ‘But where's George? Is he all right? Shouldn't we be looking for him? And what about Liz? We'll never get her back to normal if we hang around nattering all the time.'

‘Oh, George is old enough to look after himself. Liz is another matter, I fear, and I do appreciate the need to act rapidly. George is a clever fellow. He should work out what we're up to.'

‘And what are we up to?'

‘It would have been useful to examine the creature again,' Sir William said. ‘I don't suppose you still have Oldfield's box?'

‘Dropped it,' Eddie confessed.

‘Pity.'

‘There's, er, something else I ought to tell you,' Eddie said sheepishly.

‘Oh?' Sir William stopped beneath a street lamp. ‘Well out with it, whatever it is.'

So Eddie told him what he had done.

Sir William's mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘You did
what
?'

Eddie shrugged. ‘Sorry.'

Sir William was silent for several moments. He tapped his forefinger against his chin. Then he drew a deep breath. ‘Well …'

‘I said sorry,' Eddie murmured.

‘My boy, this changes everything,' Sir William went on. ‘What an inspired strategy.' His spectacles gleamed in the lamplight.

‘So, it's good, is it?'

‘Good? Capital. Excellent. Top notch. Come on.' Sir William strode off into the fog, a renewed vigour in his step.

‘Where are we going?'

‘We're going to a haunted house. It's a pity we have mislaid George, as we have a long and difficult task to perform in a very short space of time.'

‘Let's go this way then,' Eddie suggested, pointing down a side street.

‘Short cut?'

‘No. But I know where we can get some help,' Eddie said. ‘The Kenton Workhouse is just down here.'

George backed away, down the side of the small building.

‘There really is nowhere for you to go,' Clarissa said, following him. Her icy smile bit through the fog. ‘Why not give yourself up to us. I'll make it quick. It won't hurt. Join us.'

‘Not likely,' George said.

‘Then join
me
. Now I have lost my brother, you and I could be together for ever.'

‘Your brother?' George didn't know what she meant, and he didn't care. He had reached the end of the wall, and was preparing to run for it.

But Clarissa sensed his intention. ‘You wouldn't get far. And anyway, after tonight there will be nowhere to hide.'

‘Why? What's your precious Lord of the Undead planning to do?'

Clarissa laughed. ‘What all lords do. Rule.'

George backed away as Clarissa moved towards him. There was something hypnotic about her – about her voice, about her smile. Would it really be so bad to live for ever? Then George thought of the terrible cost, of the lives that would have to be spent just to extend his own.

‘What do you say?' Clarissa asked. ‘Our Lord shall have his heart soon, but we still need your help. Come to me.'

George could feel the pull of her words, could sense his mind clouding over as if the fog had got inside his head. ‘No!' he gasped. He struggled to remember Marie – her feral attack on him at the theatre. And he thought of Liz. George turned and ran.

Straight into stone. His knee connected painfully with the water trough, and he stumbled and fell.

She was there at once. Clarissa's cloak billowed out behind her like wings as she fell on him – mouth open, ready to bite.

George rolled aside, desperate to throw her off. But she was incredibly strong. He managed to crawl backwards and struggle to his feet. But Clarissa still held him tight.

With all the strength he could muster, George hurled himself towards her. She had expected him to try to break away, and staggered back in surprise. But her teeth were still closing on his neck. Her legs met the stone water trough and she fell backwards with a cry. George was falling too, his weight forcing her over and into the trough. Together, they plunged into the freezing water.

George's head broke the surface and he gasped in foggy air, before she pulled him back. But she was no longer trying to attack George. She was struggling to get out from under him.

Clarissa's dress and cloak were heavy with water. George's weight pressed her down. Her grip on him slackened and he broke free at last and tumbled out of the stone trough to lie gasping on the ground.

His lungs felt ready to burst, but George forced himself to
stand up. He hadn't been in the water that long, and neither had Clarissa. She would be back at him in a moment – up and out of the water. Flying at him in a rage.

But it didn't happen.

Cold, wet and shivering, George stepped warily towards the trough. Clarissa's eyes were closed. Her black hair was spread out in a dark halo. A drip from the gargoyle high above broke the surface over Clarissa's face, sending out ripples. The cloak stirred and moved then settled round her like a shroud. Staining the water red.

Nervously, George leaned closer. There was still no movement. No sign of life. Then suddenly Clarissa's eyes snapped open. A hand erupted from the water and closed on his neck. He tore it away, surprised at how weak the woman's grasp was. Her arms were flailing wildly, desperately, grabbing at George as he staggered back. He fell, breaking free, but pulling Clarissa with him so her head was now out of the water.

She was retching and choking. Her hand slapped back into the water and she slumped over the side of the trough, motionless. Her long, wet, black hair trailed in the mud.

Not daring to look closely, George hauled himself to his feet and staggered off into the mist.

The dormitory was alive with snores and the creak of the old iron beds. Eddie and Sir William stood in the semi-darkness, looking along the length of the room.

‘I imagine boys and men have to share,' Sir William whispered.

‘Guess so,' Eddie said. ‘I'll see if I can find my mates. They'll help. They'll do it for Charlie.' Now that Sir William had explained what needed to be done, Eddie was sure that the workhouse kids would be up for it. He made his way quietly between the beds. All the shapes huddled under their single blankets looked too big. The children must be at the other end.

A shape moved in the darkness as someone sat up. ‘Oh, it's you. Up to more mischief, are you?' a rough, scraping voice mumbled at Eddie.

Eddie peered into the gloom and saw it was the old man who had been chopping wood, the man who had helped him hide from Pearce. ‘Yeah, it's me,' he whispered, tiptoeing to the man's side. ‘I'm looking for my friends – for Jack and Mikey.'

‘Midnight escape is it? Good for you, son. Good for you.' The old man sniffed and settled back into his thin blanket. ‘You'll find 'em down the end.'

Eddie managed to find and wake Jack – who was so excited to see him that Eddie had trouble keeping the boy quiet. Together they roused Mikey. An older boy in the next bed sat up, interested to know what was going on.

‘I'll come with you,' he offered. ‘I'm awake now.'

‘Did you know Charlie?' Eddie asked him quietly.

‘He was all right, was Charlie.'

‘Then you can come.'

Eddie led them back along the dormitory to where Sir
William waited patiently. Then together they trooped down the stairs.

They were almost at the bottom when a large shape loomed out of the near-darkness. ‘And where do you think you lot are off to?' a gruff voice demanded.

‘Strewth!' Eddie said. ‘It's Mr Pearce.'

‘Leg it!' Jack said.

‘No, no,' Sir William said quietly. ‘There's no call for that. I'm sure Mr Pearce is a reasonable man.'

‘Then you don't know him,' Eddie said.

‘And who the hell are you?'

‘I am Sir William Protheroe, and I have need of the assistance of these young men.'

‘Oh do you?' Pearce was blocking the narrow corridor at the bottom of the stairs that led to the outside door. He was holding a cudgel and smacked it threateningly into the palm of his hand. ‘No one takes my boys.'

‘Really?' Sir William took a step towards the man, and Eddie was tempted to grab his coat and yank him back. ‘But that's not true is it, Mr Pearce? The Coachman,' Sir William went on, ‘he takes your boys. Boys, girls, I don't suppose he cares. I don't suppose
you
care. Just so long as no one misses them. Just so long as you get your cut.'

‘Are you from the Coachman?' Pearce asked, nervous now.

‘No. But the Coachman won't be coming again. I shall see to that. And you, Mr Pearce …' Eddie was surprised to see that Sir William was shaking with anger. ‘You had better pack whatever bags you have.'

Pearce raised the cudgel. ‘Be careful what you say, old man.' He took a step towards Sir William.

‘You like hitting old men, don't you?' The voice came from further up the stairs.

Eddie looked back, and saw that the stairs were now crowded with figures from the dormitory above.

‘Well, we've had enough of it.' It was the old man who had befriended Eddie. ‘You let them be about their business.'

‘Or else what?'

A younger, stronger voice shouted down the stairs. ‘We're not all old men and kids, you know, Pearce. We might be out of work and homeless, but we're not going to be bullied by you. This Sir William bloke – he's got something to do. Something important by the look of him and the sound of what he says. So you let him be about his business.'

There were cheers and shouts of agreement.

Pearce backed slowly away, scowling. But beneath the scowl he looked pale and anxious.

‘Oh, and Mr Pearce,
sir
,' the old man on the stairs called above the noise. ‘Reckon you'd better pack your bags like the gentleman says. Before the peelers come asking about Charlie and the others.'

‘I'll get you for this,' Pearce said in a low voice as Sir William and Eddie pushed past him.

‘Oh I very much doubt that,' Sir William said.

Eddie grinned. ‘In your dreams, mate.'

They were halfway across the courtyard when Eddie
heard the sound of running feet behind them. Afraid it might be Pearce, he whirled round. But it was Eve, pulling a threadbare cloak over a grubby nightgown.

‘You ain't going without me,' she said. ‘Whatever you're up to, I'm coming too.'

Eddie grinned. ‘Good,' he said. ‘Cos we need all the help we can get.'

‘Indeed we do,' Sir William agreed. ‘Now gather round and let me explain what needs to be done.'

The children stared at him as he quickly told them about the vampires, about the gathering at Parliament, and about what he and Eddie had decided to do.