by James Fahy
On my other side, a boy who looked no older than nineteen was lay out on a couch, a different vampire gathered around each of his wrists, draining him greedily as his eyes rolled back, only thin slivers of white showing. I wondered if his parents knew where he was tonight. Everywhere I looked were similar sights. It was like the last days of Pompeii, only with more blood and happy moaning.
“Well,” I muttered to Elise. “This is all very… unsanitary.”
“Doctor Phoebe Harkness,” a voice said from the gloom, rich and warm. “The pleasure at last.”
At the far end of the crowded chamber, a vampire had risen and now stepped towards me, weaving through the others as naturally as if he were at a crowded slumber party. He looked young, almost cherubic, with wide bright blue eyes and a lopsided smile on his white face. His hair was long and blonde, falling in careless waves and angelic curls around his face. If his countenance was innocence personified, his body certainly wasn’t. I could see quite a lot of it, dressed as he was only in white leather trousers, as low slung as any I’d ever seen. It was quite a marvel they stayed up at all, I had time to think, as he slunk toward me like a pale panther. They were held up by willpower alone it seemed.
My escort, fashion-fringe vampire, approached this boy-faced Adonis, as he held his arms out, allowing her to slip a long white duster jacket onto him. There was something almost religious about the way she dressed him. He stood like a pale messiah, hands in supplication as she ritualistically slid the long leather jacket onto his shoulders. Between his eyebrows was a studded diamond piercing, catching the light like a spiritual chakra. I’d never seen one quite like it. His bright, wide eyes never acknowledged her. They never left mine for a moment. He looked oddly… friendly. I was used to vampires looking seductive, deliberately sexual. This one seemed oddly unaware of his own beauty. His allure completely accidental.
“You must forgive us,” he smiled beatifically. “Feeding time at the zoo, as it were. I have to look after the needs of my people. They work hard. They deserve reward.”
“Dove, I assume?” I asked, glancing again at the debauchery around me. “I love what you’ve done with the place. Very sixties swinger party. You just need the Doors playing and a little paisley here and there, maybe a hookah…”
“Everyone here is of their own will, dear Doctor Harkness, I assure you,” the boy-faced man said earnestly, finally reaching me. He actually hiked up his low slung leathers a little, almost self-consciously, thumbs in belt hooks. He may look young, but he was still a good two inches taller than me. The skin of his bare chest was smooth and beaded lightly with sweat, making it glisten under his pale coat. His white cheeks were slightly flushed with colour, making him look like an excited college senior fresh from an invigorating row on the Isis. Despite his half nakedness, he looked remarkably wholesome, glowing. It was all the signs of a vampire who has recently fed.
At the orgy. The gory orgy, I muttered in my own head. The gore-gy.
A combination of nerves and revulsion made me giggle a little involuntarily at my own mental wordplay. Dove blinked at me with curiosity, through long pale eyelashes.
“Everyone except you, that is,” he noted, “You are the only person in this room who doesn’t want to be here, it seems.” He looked me up and down, unashamedly. He seemed oddly without guile. “How interesting then, that you are.”
“I was hoping to have a word, in private,” I said, leaning in a little and lowering my voice. “It’s not that I mind the comatose humans and the vampire fellatio, I’m not as easily shocked as a lot of people seem to expect, but I’m actually here on Cabal business, not for a nibble.”
Dove regarded me for a moment more, then nodded. “Of course.” He shrugged. “Business before pleasure, yes? That’s the way of Cabal. Follow me please.”
He led me out of the bloodletting party-room and into a quieter antechamber. It was brighter in here, lit by soft lamps, and with his pale hair and clothes against his white skin, he seemed to glow like a pretty ghost. I wondered with curiosity if he was an albino. He bade me to sit in an armchair and then sat across from me, arms lolling on the armrests like a relaxed king. Fashion-fringe had followed us I noticed, and stood in the doorway, a silent sentry, or maybe a bodyguard. I didn’t see why Dove needed either, to be fair. He may look innocent and oddly wide eyed, but he was clearly built to take care of himself.
The vampire smiled at me in a disarmingly friendly way I hadn’t been expecting. “I’d offer you someone to drink but…”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I had some godawful cocktail out in the club. It was delicious.” I wanted to get down to business and get out of here. I was having a hard time merging this choirboy manner with the decadence in the other room. It was quite off-putting. Like finding a boy scout at an S&M club. I looked Dove over. Beneath his leather jacket he really was quite beautifully put together. Okay then, I amended mentally to myself, not a boy scout. Some kind of very wholesome Olympic diver who does TV adverts for muesli and who you feel a little guilty about perving over. The jewel stud between his eyebrows served to make him look slightly-new-agey. “So you’re the one Allesandro left in charge then? Steward while he’s off… where exactly?”
Dove smirked a little. “The Duke of Sanctum goes where he wants, when he wants,” he said to me lightly. “He’s not at the whim of humans, and he certainly doesn’t feel the need to explain his movements to one such as myself.” He rubbed his eyebrow, a very human-like gesture which caused his piercing to catch the light. “I just do as I’m told, Doctor.”
Damn. I’d been hoping to get some clue as to where he’d gone. If Dove knew, the kid was playing cards close to his chest. He smiled at me playfully.
“I understand you were… are, sorry… a favourite of his,” the vampire said. “He thinks highly of you, Dr Harkness. I believe you to be very useful to him. He would bring you into the fold if he could, I think. I can see the attraction. You’re a striking girl.”
“Girl?” I choked. “I haven’t been called a girl for a while.”
The vampire cocked his head. “So sorry. I forget the right terms. I know I may look younger than you, but believe me, Doctor, I’m a lot longer in the tooth than I appear, if you’ll pardon the expression. I’ve been around an awfully long time. Not as long as the Duke himself, but almost.”
I didn’t want to get into that. Vampire age is something I can never get my head around. I had the vague impression that Allesandro himself was from somewhere in the renaissance originally, and admitting to myself that I’ve had naughty thoughts about someone as old as Da Vinci creeps me out a little. If what Dove was saying was true, this man-child was a few hundred years my senior, despite his bright-eyed and bushy-tailed appearance.
“So you’re in charge now?” I asked, as conversationally as I could. “You seem to have taken to the crown very well. I mean, blood-feasting orgies, a whole festival planned, you’re an awfully busy man, Dove.”
“It’s important that the good people of Oxford see that we can be fun,” Dove said, spreading his hands with a wide grin. He looked genuinely enthusiastic. “The festival will show just that. Bring us out of the shadows and into the light, as you like. Show them we are not creatures to be feared, but ones to be celebrated, who can dance with them, make merry in the streets.”
“Feed on them in seedy back rooms?” I added quickly. “Or are you not planning to make that part of the parade?”
If I’d insulted him, it didn’t show. “We are what we are, Doctor,” Dove nodded, still looking amused. “As I’ve already told you, no-one in the private rooms of Sanctum is here against their will. Indeed, many have paid a high price to be allowed to be-”
“On the menu?”
“-favoured by us,” he corrected. “They will all go home before the club closes. Unharmed, Band-Aids, energy drinks rich in electrolytes and cab-rides paid for. We look after our clientele here.” He leaned back in the chair, the leather of his coat creaking as it fell around
him like pale wings. “Every taste is indulged.”
I pointedly refused to stare at his deliberately bare midriff. I don’t care how washboard a stomach you have, blondie. You’re still giving off uber-creepy cult leader vibes as far as I’m concerned. I am not seduced by lounging vampires. Not often anyway. Even surprisingly friendly ones.
“Must be difficult to concentrate on all these party preparations though, what with the murders,” I said.
Something flickered a little in his wide and friendly eyes. A corner of his mouth turned up. “Since when did Cabal care about the sun kissed?” he asked lightly. “Is that not rather beyond the remit of the human… authorities?” This last word had unspoken humour underneath it. He clearly thought the idea of humans in charge of anything was amusing.
“You’d be amazed what Cabal care about,” I said, with total honesty. “They care about pretty much everything. And I’m talking about the spree of dead vampires pebble-dashing my city right now. There have been-”
“Twelve,” he finished for me. This was surprising. More than we knew about. Clearly our drones hadn’t caught every crime scene before it burned up and blew away.
“Twelve dead vampires?” I mused. I picked absently at the fabric of the chair arm. “Why do you call them the sun kissed?”
Dove leaned forward, brushing a lock of wavy pale hair out of his eyes. Like the rubbing of his eyebrow, it was another curiously human gesture and it threw me a little. He seemed remarkably unguarded for a vampire. He shrugged. “From time to time, one of us lives long enough to grow tired of the world. We see the same things, over and over through the years. We move in and out of the shadows and watch the world evolve and change. It can become a burden, a chore.” He sighed. “I myself have seen Spiderman rebooted over seven times.”
He was teasing, and I couldn’t help but smile at his joke.
“Some choose to meet the dawn, Doctor Harkness. A peaceful spot, the rising sun, and then…” He shrugged. “Oblivion.”
“Are you suggesting these are what? Vampire suicides?” I said doubtfully. “Because I’ve been at the scene a couple of times, and I can assure you, despite how restful and poetic you make it sound, unless these vampires are deciding to literally tear themselves into small chunks and throw their innards around like water balloons before the sun comes up, that’s an unlikely story. These vampires are not meeting a restful end.”
Dove shook his head. “I agree,” he said, meeting my eyes. “These seem more like acts of violence. Senseless violence. I cannot understand why someone would do this. Indeed, how someone could do this. We vampires are strong, not easily overpowered. Even amongst our other Genetic Other equals.”
“Well however it’s happening, someone, or something is murdering vampires,” I said. “Messily, and, it seems, randomly.” I thought back to my telephone conversation with Sofia. “I have reason to doubt that the Tribals are involved. They have their own issues to deal with right now. Maybe human lynch mobs? Some of the Mankind Movement are fairly rabid. Perhaps they are none too pleased about your plans to celebrate this Halloween. You have to admit, your plans for this Fangfest, vampire-Pride? It’s fairly controversial. It’s got to be sticking in some bigot’s throat somewhere right? Could the MM be behind the deaths? Making an example out of some of you?”
Dove looked genuinely appalled. “I doubt that,” he said, shaking his head. “We want to build bridges with the humans, not burn them. Even if some of you are… resistant to the idea of viewing us as people… be realistic. We are strong. Not easily overpowered by your kind.”
“If you know about these deaths,” I asked. “What are you doing about it? It’s hardly good Fangfest PR.”
“That’s the truth,” Dove looked glum. “And it reflects none too well on my position as steward.” He glanced up at the vampire in the doorway, and back to me. “I have been trusted with keeping Allesandro’s people safe. What kind of leader am I if I cannot even do that? Fangfest will be a failure if the vampires of Sanctum are not safe from harm in their own city.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, looking a little agitated. He’d already told me he was old, but it made him look very young and a little out of his depth. I found myself wondering how suited he was to this role. “I have been making my own investigations of course,” he told me. “Quietly of course. I have sent some of our own to seek out what they can about these deaths.”
“And?”
He looked up at me in earnest. “Those I sent to seek answers are amongst the twelve dead,” he said quietly.
He leaned across from his chair, hands outstretched, and entirely against my better judgement I found myself allowing him to take my hands in his. He gave them a gentle squeeze.
“It is good that you have come, Doctor. I see the strength in you my master admires. I believe we must help one another, for the benefit of both our people. You must help me find who, or what, is targeting my people. Help me protect them, please.”
He was so forthright, his face devoid of any agenda. It was all very un-vampire-like. I had come here hoping he would be able to help me, and now here he was, the ruling stand-in of Sanctum, humbly asking for my assistance. It was as though no-one had ever taught him the basic ‘how-to-be-a-vampire’ rules.
“I just want to know what’s going on and why,” I admitted. “I was hoping you might know more. Something that could put me on the right track at least.”
Allesandro would have known what was going on, I was sure of it. Nothing happened in the vampire world without that guy knowing about it. Dove seemed too much of a greenhorn to rule, it was like leaving a child in charge. Yes, he had a certain open and refreshingly honest charisma I hadn’t been expecting, sure, but was that what a vampire clan needed in a ruler?
“There are whispers, or course,” he said, leaning forward, still squeezing my hands like we were close friends, confidants. “There are always rumours. But even my kind fear the bogeyman, Doctor. They are saying it is… something otherworldly.”
“Otherworldly?” I hadn’t realised I had dropped my voice as well.
Dove’s wide bright eyes peered into mine as he nodded. “Some are saying… it is an angel of death. Retribution for past vampire sins. A seraph. Come to judge us, and to tear apart the unworthy.” His thumb had begun stroking the back of my hand softly. Oddly intimate.
My brain boggled a little. I worked my hands free of his. “An… angel,” I said flatly. “I don’t believe in angels, Dove. They’re not real.”
Dove, his own, pale angelic face floating in the low light before me, met my scepticism with a worried half-smile. “Thirty years ago, Doctor, no-one believed in vampires either. Who knows what is out there, in the dark places of the world? All manner of creatures. Full of sin, however pure they seem.” His eyes roamed over me, still friendly, but more than a little hungry too, I thought. Ah, so he was a bona-fide vampire, after all. “Seek out the seraph. Find out its purpose. I will do the same. We must put a stop to these… executions. And before the week is out. The festival on Halloween must go ahead.”
*
Dove led me out of our cosy private chamber and back into what I’d come to think of as the bloodletting-and-sexytime room, his hand gently guiding me in the small of my back. I wasn’t overly wild about the contact, but I had got what I came for. Now I just wanted to find Lucy and get the hell out of here. I spied Elise standing uncomfortably by the doors leading back to the club. She was hugging her arms. I could see she was trying to make an effort to appear aloof and relaxed, but she wasn’t quite selling it to me. I wondered what her problem was. I’d heard some Helsings, the extreme kinds, got very attached to one vampire in particular, not letting anyone else feed from them. Perhaps that had been the dynamic with her and Allesandro. Was she having withdrawals in his absence?
“Are you absolutely sure we can’t offer you some entertainment? While you’re here?” Dove said softly behind me. Quite a few of the vampire lounging around the room were looking at me as w
e re-entered, and at Dove with something close to worship. Several of them were quite plainly excited at the prospect of me staying. It was odd, to have them all looking at me at once. I’ve never heard of vampires having a hive-mind, but all of their heads were turned to train on me at once.
On a nearby chaise longue, a slender vampire dressed in a few swathes of gauze patted the cushion next to her invitingly, smiling up at me through sleepy, lidded eyes. She was stunningly good looking. Skin like milk, eyes lost in ruby shadows. A male vampire sitting on the scatter cushions before her sofa was stroking her leg slowly, and he too looked up at me, head cocked to one side questioningly, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Um… not really my thing,” I said, as politely as I could. I was acutely aware that Dove’s gentle hand was still in the small of my back, subtly guiding me towards the waiting members of this private party.
I felt rather than saw him smile behind me. “You’ll have to forgive their interest.” he said softly, and a little indulgently. “They smell your blood. It’s quite unlike anything I’ve ever known before.” He had leaned in close behind me and subtly sniffed at my neck. One of his hands was gently lifting my hair, his thumb brushing softly against my collarbone. “You are something quite… unique, aren’t you, Dr Harkness?”
And then some, I thought to myself. My blood was a heady concoction of human, traces of Allesandro, Pale-infected virus, and genetically controlled epsilon serum. I was pretty much an exotic cocktail in a room full of thirsty alcoholics. Against my better judgement, a tiny part of me was too busy appreciating just how deliciously attractive the two vampires by the sofa looked to stop Dove’s gentle fingers stroking my neck. I actually found myself tilting my head to one side, quite involuntarily. Goosebumps rolling over me in a shiver. My legs felt very tired. Would it be so bad just to sit a moment?
