“But he's dead!”
“Actually that's a common misconception. Vampires aren't dead. They're cooler than normal, their heartbeat is very slow and they heal super fast, but they're not dead. As long as they get blood, their bodies function much like ours; their hair and finger nails still grow and while they are a lot faster than us, even they get tired if they run far enough and fast enough.”
“Are they allergic to crosses and garlic?”
“No.” Frankie considered telling him that silver burned them, but vampires hated their weaknesses being known. On the other hand it might make Will feel happier. “Sunlight and silver,” she said quickly, not giving herself time to consider the ramifications. “They are their only two weaknesses. That's why I called Dante earlier, because of the silver in the rain we were seeding.”
“That's good to know.”
Frankie shrugged. The information wasn't really useful, since vampires were more than fast enough to disarm a human before they could pose any threat, silver weapons or not.
“Maybe you could speak to Dante,” Frankie suggested. “I know he's a vampire now but he was human once. Discovering vampires must have come as a shock to him too.”
“I am not going to sit down and have tea with Dracula.” Will looked incredulous.
“Okay, it was just a suggestion,” she backed down.
“Did he do that to your neck?” Will asked.
“The bruising? No, that was a poltergeist.” She pulled the neck of her shirt down. “His bite is long gone, see?”
Will looked at the area but didn't look happy.
“If you're covering for him-”
“Will, I'm not covering for anyone. A ghost really did try to strangle me.”
Will sighed and shook his head.
“So what do I do now?” he asked.
“I don't know; get on with life? Nothing has actually changed, Will, the world is exactly the same as it was before, you're just seeing the whole picture now.”
“I can't even tell anyone because they'll think I'm crazy.”
“Now that I can relate to,” Frankie said with feeling. “But at least you have me and Dante, if you want to talk.”
“You can keep Dante, thank you.”
“Nothing has actually changed, and supernatural incidents are extremely rare.”
“Says the woman who took me siren-busting earlier today.”
“Look, there are about seventeen thousand police officers in Scotland, Will, but there are exactly two MI5 P.a.S.T. agents. I know it feels like a big deal but it isn't. The only reason the supernatural is still secret is because it isn't common. In a city of half a million people, we estimate there are less than a hundred witches. And I'd say there were less than 25 supernatural creatures.”
“You estimate?”
“Yeah. MI5 doesn't exactly know about vampires.”
“Why not?”
“The same reason that you're unable to tell anyone. There are a few older references to them, but if an agent has encountered vampires in the last 40 years, that memory was erased. That option is still open to you, by the way. You can forget that all this ever happened.”
“No. No, I want to remember.” He sighed. “I don't suppose you've got one of those cigarettes I'm always telling you to quit?”
Frankie smiled and rummaged in her bag. She found the packet and offered him one, before taking another for herself. She lit his then her own, and looked in her bag again until she found her hip flask. She offered it to him first.
“You came prepared,” he said, taking a mouthful of the amber liquid, and letting out a long sigh after he had swallowed.
“I'm always prepared.”
Will handed the flask back to her and Frankie took a large sip.
“If they can't make you forget,” Will asked, “why don't you tell MI5 about vampires?”
“Because if I started telling people, the vampires would kill me. Besides, some of the higher ups know, those who need to. Vampires are actually quote patriotic; they've worked for us in times of war.”
“So if they'd kill you for telling people, how come you told me.”
“I didn't tell you, Dante did, and he made sure that you couldn't tell anyone else.”
“I still don't get it” Will shook his head. “You just said it, they're killers, they'd kill you if it's in their interests, so why do you help them?”
“Because I don't have a choice,” she said. “I might as well make the best of it. Besides, as much as I hate it, I do understand their point of view.”
“You do?”
“Yes. If people found out about them there would be panic. Sure, vampires are fast but given the remote weapons we have these days, they're much easier to kill than in the days of pitchforks and torches. They have no reason to trust me, but they can't vamp me so of course they keep an eye on me. I don't like it but I'm a threat to them, so I have to learn to live with it.”
“They're inhuman.”
“Actually not so much. I'm only alive because Josh sacrificed himself for me. He died so I could live. Dante offered to heal my neck by letting me have some of his blood. Some of them aren't so bad.”
“Wait, you suck their blood!”
“I said he offered, I didn't say I accepted. I'm still bruised aren't I?”
“Their blood can really heal people?”
“It really can. It saved my life once.”
Will took a long drag on his cigarette. “I didn't happen to fall down any rabbit holes recently, did I?”
“Not that I saw,” Frankie smiled slightly.
Will sighed. “I don't suppose you found anything out about my case, did you?”
“Nothing since you left. I still have a report to write but then I'll do some research. Dante will get back to me if he finds anything helpful in the photos.
“I guess I should go home,” Will said, getting to his feet and offering his hand to help Frankie up. “Maybe when I wake up this will all feel like a dream.”
“Good luck with that.”
They began walking back towards her house and his car.
“Frankie... I'm sorry.”
“What for?”
“For not believing you. For thinking you were cuckoo. You tried to tell me so many times and I just dismissed it, rationalised everything away.”
“I can't exactly blame you. I'd probably do the same in your shoes.”
Will shrugged and they slowed to a stop beside his car. Frankie turned to him.
“Give me a call if you need to talk or anything,” she said.
“I will.” He opened his arms to her and Frankie stepped into his embrace. “What a crazy day this has been,” he said quietly.
“Tell me about it,” she pulled away. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Don't worry about me. I'll cope.”
Frankie nodded. She didn't want to leave him, it felt like there was so much more to say, but she didn't know where to start.
“Goodnight, Frankie.” He kissed the top of her head, then stepped away and got into his car.
Frankie watched until he was out of sight, then turned to go inside. She noticed the curtain drop back into place and rolled her eyes as she realised that they had been watched.
When Frankie awoke the next morning it was to the welcoming sight of her father, brandishing a mug of coffee.
She accepted it gratefully.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Your Mum will be down soon, love,” he said.
Frankie nodded, understanding his meaning. She enjoyed a few more sips of her coffee then set about gathering up the papers she'd been reading when she fell asleep on the sofa. Her mother would think it unseemly that she had fallen asleep while working.
'Chairs are for sitting, beds are for sleeping,' Frankie could almost hear her saying. When she had gathered them, she locked the papers away in a desk drawer and logged onto her computer, hoping to check her work emails before her mother came down. There was nothing ne
w, so she emailed the report she had finished last night to her boss, logged off and took her coffee through to the kitchen to join her father.
“I'm sorry there's not a lot of food,” she said, sitting at the kitchen table. “I placed an order online last night; it should be delivered before lunchtime today.”
“That's kind of you, love, but I'm sure we could have found a local supermarket.”
Frankie shrugged. He was right but she didn't want to hear her mother's reminder that she was being a bad host. Having found the frozen loaf of bread in the freezer, her father was busy making himself some toast.
“Dad,” she asked, a little hesitantly. “Do you know anything about how I was found?” Ever since she'd spoken to Dante last night, her curiosity about her heritage had been reignited.
“We've told you everything we know,” her father turned to her, looking surprised at her question.
“Was anything found with me, a note maybe? Any clue as to why I was left?”
“What brought this on?” her father asked as he sat down opposite her, his toast all but forgotten.
“I don't know. I suppose seeing you and Mum again. Sometimes I just...”
“You're curious about where you came from, it's only natural.”
“You're not upset?”
“Of course not,” he covered her hand with his own. “Let's see,” he began. “Well, you were left in St Francis church in Ashford. You were under a pew near the alter, they said it looked as if whoever left you wanted you to be found. You were well cared for, in a clean nappy and baby-gro and wrapped in a blue blanket.”
“There was no note?”
“Not that anyone told us about.”
“When was I found?”
“Quite early, I think. The Reverend found you before the Sunday morning communion.”
Frankie thought for a moment, wondering if she could use any of this information to start another search.
“There was a press and television campaign asking if anyone had any information, but as far as I know they didn't get anything useful. Your parents never came forward.”
“Of course! There would be a police report, wouldn't there?”
“Well yes, I suppose so.”
The last time Frankie had tried looking, she had been at university and hadn't been allowed to view the police report, but these days she could access it through her work.
“I doubt they'll let you see it, love,” her father said kindly.
“They don't need to let me, Dad. I work for the Security Service, I can...” She hesitated, realising it probably wasn't smart to reveal that she could hack any police computer system. “Well, let's just say I have avenues available to me that most people don't”
“I won't stop you, Frankie, but don't do anything silly, will you?” Her father looked worried.
“It'll be fine, Dad. I promise.”
“What will be fine?” her mother asked. It wasn't even 8am and she was already perfectly made up for the day. She'd chosen a duck egg blue suit today, with a white blouse and pleated skirt. Her blonde hair was swept up into a French pleat and sprayed to within an inch of its life. Frankie always wondered why she had long hair when she never wore it down.
“Nothing, Mum. I was just telling Dad that your staying here isn't a problem.”
“Well of course it isn't; we're your family,” her mother announced. “We really must pick up a teapot today. I can't believe you don't have one.”
“I do have one,” Frankie rummaged in the cupboards until she found a clear Bodum teapot she'd been given years ago as a house-warming gift.
“I've never seen a tea pot like that before,” her mother sniffed.
Frankie smiled and brewed a pot of tea for her. “It's progress, mum. They didn't have cafetières years ago either, but they're all the rage now.”
“Just because something is popular, doesn't make it good,”
“No, Mum.” Frankie sighed. She didn't want to argue. “I'm going to get ready.”
She showered quickly and dressed in her usual uniform of black jeans, a dark shirt and boots.
She would have liked to just leave, but she knew that she had to see her parents and make her excuses.
“You really should wear more colour, Francis,” her mother admonished Frankie as she joined them in the living room.
“I think she looks lovely,” her father smiled.
“Well you would, but she's never going to attract a husband looking like that.”
“Mum, I'm not looking for a husband,” she perched on the arm of her father's chair. “So what were you two planning for today?”
“I thought you could show us the sights. It's so much nicer to see a city with a local showing you around.”
“I have to work, Mum.”
“But we're only here for a few days!”
“And you didn't let me know that you were coming. Look, I'll try and get home a reasonable time and maybe we can go out for dinner again?”
“Do you have any suggestions for us?” her father asked.
“There are tour buses going from Waverly Station, there are a couple of different tours, but the guides will have all the information. You can hop on and off the buses all day, so you can get off at the tourist attractions and have a look around whenever you want.”
“That sounds lovely, doesn't it Cecilia?”
Her mother didn't answer.
Thankfully her phone rang than and she saw from the display that it was Will. She didn't bother with any preamble when she answered.
“Has there been another one?” she asked.
“I'm afraid so.”
“Can I have a look at the crime scene?”
“Sure, I'm heading there now. It's on Corstorphine Hill, just follow the trail up the hill until you see lots of policemen.”
“I'm on my way.” She hung up and turned to her mother. “Sorry, I really do have to go.”
“Nothing serious, I hope?” her father said.
“Not sure yet, Dad. I've got my phone with me, so call if you need anything.”
Chapter Seven
Will stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't slept very well and seeing a dead tabby, a chihuahua and a shih-tzu was not exactly the way he wanted to start the day.
He sighed and looked out over Edinburgh. He should never have agreed to take this case.
“All done,” the police photographer said.
“Great. Will you email me a set of pictures?”
“Sure thing.”
“And don't answer any questions from the press as you leave.”
“Bloody vultures,” the photographer agreed.
The crowd of journalists that had gathered wasn't large as crowds went, but it was large enough. He hadn't really expected the national papers to be interested but three of them were here, along with the Scottish and local papers.
He saw Frankie pushing her way through the crowd, keeping her head down. She was stopped by the constable controlling the crowd until Will called for her to be let through. She reached him a few seconds later.
“Oh God,” she said when she saw the animals.
“I hope you haven't had breakfast.”
“Thankfully, no. Have the crime scene officers been yet?”
“Yeah, SOCO left about fifteen minutes ago. They took lots of samples but you know we're going to be way down their list. If this one is going to get solved, it'll be the old fashioned way.”
Frankie walked around the scene, looking for any magic paraphernalia, occult or paranormal symbols, or anything out of the ordinary. Besides murdered pets, of course. The area was just a small clearing with nothing to distinguish it from anywhere else. If there was a reason why he chose this spot to kill the animals, that reason wasn't clear to her.
“What are you thinking?” Will asked.
Frankie shook her head; this wasn't the place to talk. She knelt down, took off one of her gloves, closed her eyes then touched the grass, the ground and the
stones around the animals.
Will saw a number of expressions cross her face and none of them looked pleasant. When she opened her eyes she looked pale and slightly queasy. He noticed that she was careful to keep her back to the press who were waiting a little way down the hill.
Finally she seemed satisfied and stood beside him. She still looked pale.
“You okay?”
“I'll be fine. Do you have a hat?” she asked.
“A hat?” Will looked incredulous.
“Yeah, they weren't interested in me on my way up but I don't want to be photographed on the way back.”
“Ma'am,” the constable who was waiting by the scene took a step towards them. “Here,” he handed her a black beanie.
“Thank you. I'll leave it with D.C.I. Campbell.” Frankie smiled and pulled the woollen hat on.
“I'll have to stay and speak to the press,” Will said. “Where do you want to meet up?”
Usually Frankie would say her house, because from there she could access the station computer and any files related to the case but with her parents staying there, she knew that wasn't an option,
“I'll meet you at the station.”
Will nodded and they headed down the hill. Frankie kept her head down and pushed through the crowd. The press focused on Will and he gave a brief statement before taking a few questions.
When Will got back to the station, he headed straight to his office expecting to find Frankie waiting for him but his office was empty. There was however, a message on his desk saying she was waiting in reception for him. He went down to collect her, wondering why she hadn't just flashed her M.I.5 identification.
“I didn't want you to face any awkward questions,” she explained.
Will was touched by her consideration. When they got to his office he closed the door and sat behind the desk.
“What did you see?” he asked, getting straight down to business. If he had to accept this supernatural stuff, he was going to be as reasoned and rational about it as he could.
“Nothing nice. It's definitely a human man doing these things, they're sacrifices to his God, Hermes.” Frankie shuddered at the memory.
“Did you say Hermes? The Greek God of the underworld.”
Past Life Page 6
