Authors: Scott G. Mariani
‘And maybe he can get Toby to come and stay with us, too,’ Anastasia added, warming to the idea. ‘I so much like the younglings.’ She licked her lips. ‘Tender and sweet. Hmmmm.’
Stone grabbed Lonsdale by the hair and hauled him to his feet. ‘Enough of your self-pitying bawling, ghoul. Call your air crew.’
Lillith wrapped her arms around her brother and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. ‘And so, we move on to Stage Two,’ she whispered.
He nodded, smiling. ‘We’ll drop you and Zachary off en route as planned.’
‘This is the part I’ve been looking forward to the most,’ she said.
Joel skidded the Ford to a halt outside the Maddon house, went running up the drive and hammered on the front door. The street was in near silence, just the light patter of the rain on the slick pavements. After a few moments he saw an upstairs light come on behind blue curtains. Seconds later, the downstairs hall lit up and a shape appeared behind the frosted glass of the door.
‘Who is it?’ said a rasping voice.
‘Police,’ Joel replied. ‘Open the door, please.’
The door opened slowly. Behind it stood a man who looked like a heavier, hairier and balder version of Dec. He was wrapped in a tartan dressing gown and didn’t look too happy to be disturbed.
‘Mr Maddon?’
Dec’s father ran his eye up and down Joel. ‘You don’t look much like a policeman to me, so you don’t,’ he said gruffly. ‘Let’s see some ID then.’
‘Mr Maddon, I came to see Dec.’
‘Right. Where’s the ID?’
‘My name’s Joel Solomon.’
‘I don’t care what you call yourself. Show me your warrant card or get the fuck off me doorstep. It’s almost one in the friggin’ morning. People are trying to get some sleep here. We work for a living.’
A middle-aged woman Joel took to be Mrs Maddon appeared in the hallway with her arms folded. She was about two feet shorter than her husband but looked twice as hard.
‘Who is it, Liam?’
‘Some joker says he’s a cop,’ Liam Maddon said, still staring at Joel. Mrs Maddon’s brow creased.
‘Is this about our Dec? Has something happened?’
‘Isn’t he here?’ Joel asked her.
‘We’re telling you nothing, mister, until we see some proper identification. This bastard could be anybody, Beth.’ He turned back to Joel. ‘Understand? Now fuck off.’ And he slammed the door in Joel’s face.
Joel stood on the doorstep for a moment, then sighed and started heading back to the car, wondering what to do next.
As he was about to get into the Mondeo and drive off, he heard footsteps behind him and a voice said,
‘Psst!
Officer?’
Joel looked round to see another version of Dec Maddon sneaking down the drive towards him. He looked about five, maybe six years older than his brother, dark and unshaven and was built like he did a lot of weights.
‘I’m Cormac,’ he whispered.
‘Joel.’
‘I know who you are. Dec’s talked about you. I’m sorry me da sent you away. He can be a right wanker sometimes, so he can.’
‘Where is Dec? I need to talk to him.’
‘That’s what I came out here to tell you. Dec’s gone funny.’
Joel glanced up at the house. The upstairs light had gone off again and the house had fallen into darkness, but someone could still be watching from the window.
‘Let’s talk in the car.’ He slung the metal case into the back seat as Cormac climbed into the passenger side.
‘Cameras, is it?’ Cormac asked, pointing at the case.
‘Yeah,’ Joel said, shutting his door. ‘Now, I think you’d better explain. How has Dec gone funny?’
‘Ever since the wee girl next door died.’
Joel stared at him. ‘Kate Hawthorne? Dead? When?’
Cormac shrugged. ‘Couple of days ago. Terrible, isn’t it? She just faded away, like. Family’s in a right state. I never liked them much. Bunch o’ snobs, especially that Gillian. But you have to feel sorry for them.’
‘Where’s Dec now?’
‘Gone to stay at a mate’s. Won’t come back to the house. He’s just acting weird, like.’
‘Have you seen him?’
‘Just talked on the phone a couple of times. He sounded ill. I went round there but he wouldn’t let me in.’ Cormac frowned. ‘He may be a wee shit, but he’s me brother. I’m worried about him.’
‘Tell me where this mate’s place is.’
‘I’ll show you the way as we drive.’
Joel glanced at the case on the seat behind them. ‘I think it’s best if you stay here, Cormac.’
Cormac had been reluctant to stay behind, but his directions were good and it didn’t take Joel long to find the block of concrete flats in Brewer’s Lane on the other side of Wallingford. Joel left the car in the shadows a few yards down the lane and walked the rest of the way, clutching the metal case tightly under one arm and wondering what he was going to find at this Matt’s place. Metal steps wound up and round onto each terraced balcony. He climbed two flights, checking door numbers until he came to the one he was looking for.
The pale blue door to Flat 22 was open an inch. Joel listened to his instincts and didn’t knock. He pressed his hand against the worn wood, praying the hinges weren’t creaky, and slipped silently inside. He found himself in a narrow passage that was dimly lit by a lamp shining through from the open door at the far end. Through the gap he could see garish floral carpet, the corner of a peeling James Bond poster tacked to the wall, and the end of an old couch that had someone’s hand resting on it.
Someone was talking inside the room. Joel tensed, listening hard. The voice was little more than a whisper, but he recognised it as Dec’s. Who was he talking to?
The answer came a second later when Joel heard a low giggle.
A girl’s voice.
Joel’s blood turned ice cold. Scarcely breathing and terrified to make a sound, he slowly unclipped one of the catches of the metal case. Then the other. And opened the lid just a fraction.
That was enough to tell him all he needed to know. The quiet room exploded into uproar. A piercing, wailing shriek of agony and terror. Dec’s voice yelled, ‘What’s wrong, Kate? What’s wrong?’
Joel slammed the lid shut, sealing the cross back inside its lead lining. He burst into the room to see Kate Hawthorne scrabbling desperately across the carpet, frantic to escape. She made a dive for the window, but he quickly stepped across and blocked her exit. Her eyes were fixed on the case. She backed away like a cornered leopard – frightened but dangerous. She rolled back her red lips and Joel quaked at the sight of the long curved fangs. There was a smear of blood on her chin, and her fingertips were red with it. Her hair was tousled, feral. She was naked underneath the translucent white dress she was wearing.
‘You!’ she hissed at him. ‘Policeman.’
Dec stood frozen next to the couch, watching the scene in horror. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollow and colourless. The wounds on his neck looked as if they’d crusted over and been reopened several times. Fresh trickles of blood were running down to his shoulder, soaking into the material of the grimy T-shirt that clung to his emaciated torso. He staggered towards Joel.
‘What are you doing to her? Leave her alone!’
Joel shoved him lightly in the chest, and he fell back on the couch. ‘This isn’t Kate, Dec. Kate’s gone.’
‘He’s lying,’ Kate spat. ‘Don’t listen to him.’
‘How long has this thing been feeding on you?’ Joel demanded, pointing at her. At that moment, she tried to make another break for it, and he opened the box a crack. A huge ripple of pain seemed to shudder through her body and she collapsed to the floor, thrashing and writhing. Joel smelled burning, saw the smoke rising from her bare flesh. He shut the lid.
‘That’s just a small dose of what’s in here,’ he told her. ‘You know what it is, don’t you? You know what it can do to you.’
‘Stop it!’ Dec shouted at him from the couch. ‘What are you doing? You’re hurting her.’
‘She’s a vampire, Dec. Forget about her.’
The kid turned to gaze at Kate with tears of longing in his eyes. ‘We love each other. We’re going to be together forever.’
‘She’s been living here with you, hasn’t she?’
Dec nodded. He pointed at a cupboard. ‘She sleeps there during the day. I take care of her. That’s how it’s going to be. Nothing you can do about it, get it?’
‘This has to end,’ Joel said. ‘If she keeps feeding on you like this, you know what you’ll become. One of them.’
Tears flooded down Dec’s cheeks. ‘I don’t fucking care any more. I love her, man.’
Coiled in the corner, Kate was slowly recovering from the blast of the cross’s energy. She raised herself up weakly on her elbows. ‘He loves me, you fuck. Leave us alone.’
Joel shook his head. ‘I’m sorry for what’s about to happen,’ he murmured. Shaking with anticipation, he moved his hand to open the box and take out the cross. Now he would see exactly what happened when a vampire was exposed to the full force of its power. Kate saw what he was doing and screamed.
But then a thought came to him and he stopped.
‘How did she know where to find you, Dec? Did you tell her where you were?’
Dec just looked at him. Joel grabbed him by the collar of his bloody T-shirt and hauled him off the couch and shook him violently. It was shocking to feel how little the kid weighed.
‘How did she find you?’ he repeated.
‘She just did,’ Dec muttered. ‘I don’t know how. I was here, and she turned up. Don’t hurt her, Joel. For fuck’s sake, don’t hurt her.’
Joel let Dec slump down again, thinking hard. The idea that was forming in his mind seemed crazy – but in a reality that had already been turned upside-down, even a crazy idea made perfect sense.
He was thinking about the potentially infinite relationship of vampire to victim. One created another, then on it went down the line, one new vampire after another being endlessly hatched out of the wreckage of its human host. Stone had created the Kate Hawthorne who lay before him now. She was his progeny, eternally bonded to him; and, left to her own devices, the fledgling vampire girl had been about to turn Dec into the next link in the chain. The same connection must exist between every single vampire and each of their victims.
Stone had turned Kate at Crowmoor Hall – that much was clear – and yet he’d been able to find her home in Wallingford. Just as Kate had, in turn, managed to find Dec here.
What was guiding them? Some kind of extra-sensory homing ability? Clairvoyance? The same nebulous psychic connection that seemed to enable human twins to sense one another’s emotions, even their whereabouts, over distances that defied rational explanation?
Joel took a step towards her. ‘Where’s Gabriel Stone?’ he demanded.
Kate glowered up at him. ‘Fuck you.’
‘Not the answer I was looking for,’ Joel said. He took another step. ‘You want me to open this case?’
Kate flinched violently, slumped back down to the floor and let out a tortured moan.
‘Where is he, Kate? Tell me.’
‘He’s gone,’ she blurted out. ‘Far away from here.’
Against the wall to Joel’s right was a home assembly bookcase bulging with well-thumbed issues of car books, motoring magazines, repair manuals, a few tatty sci-fi and thriller paperbacks. Stuffed in between a Subaru maintenance manual and
Classic Supercars
was a big hardback world atlas. It looked immaculate and out of place in Matt’s book collection, like an unwanted gift that was only on the shelf out of obligation. Still clutching the case, Joel grabbed the atlas on an impulse and cracked it open, flipped a few pages and laid it flat on the floor showing a double-page spread of the world map. He thrust the book across the carpet under Kate’s nose. ‘You show me where he went. And I promise I’ll free you.’
‘Show him, Kate,’ Dec groaned faintly from the couch.
‘Never!’ she spat out.
‘You think he cares for you?’ Joel shouted at her. ‘He’s gone. He was just playing with you. You’ve nothing to be loyal to.’
Kate went quiet, defeated. She looked warily at Joel. Her fangs had receded and, apart from her wild hair and the blood on her chin and hands, she seemed just like any other normal girl again. Joel thought of Alex, and his throat tightened so badly he wanted to scream.
‘Can you do it?’ he asked her.
‘You’ll set me free?’
‘I promised.’
Slowly, reluctantly, Kate sat up and closed her eyes. Her chin sank towards her chest. She began to sway gently backwards and forwards, as if falling into some kind of trance.
Dead silence in the room. Joel could hear the beating of his own heart.
Kate reached a hand out across the open map. Extended her bloodstained index finger. It hovered uncertainly over the pages, wavered back and forth, and for a moment Joel was certain his idea really had been crazy. But then something in the girl’s expression seemed to focus, and her finger landed right on the small shape that was England, leaving a red print on the paper.
‘He travels,’ she murmured. Joel could see rapid darting movement behind the pale skin of her closed eyelids. Then, slowly, like the upturned glass moving of its own accord across an Ouija board in a seance, her finger began to move across the map. It traced a jagged red line of blood from west to east. Joel watched in morbid fascination as the line skimmed the southern tip of the Netherlands, moved across into Germany, then the Czech Republic and on into Hungary. It moved a little more, then came to a trembling halt. Kate’s hand went limp and she slumped back down to the carpet, mumbling something indistinct.
Joel snatched the atlas from her and stared at the spot where the line of drying blood ended. She’d traced a path southeast across most of Europe, all the way to the northern reaches of Romania. The line broke off somewhere in the middle of the Carpathian Mountains.
‘You said something just then. A word. What was it? Kate?’ Forgetting himself, he was about to reach across to shake the girl’s shoulder – then drew his hand away quickly and laid it on the lid of the case so he could yank it open if she went for him. He was too close to this vampire to get complacent.