by Helen Harper
‘It’s not anything to be ashamed of,’ Arzo says from behind me.
I whip round. ‘I know that! But I told you…’
‘You’re fine.’
I nod. ‘Yes.’
He sighs. ‘Alright. But think about what I’ve said. And call me if you need to talk or you need help or if anything untoward happens.’
You mean like your best friend who betrayed you showing up at our door, I think. Aloud, I say, ‘Of course.’
He smiles grimly, then twists round and leaves me standing alone in the growing shadows of the garden.
* * *
I’m still in the garden, staring into nothing, when my phone rings, shaking me out of my reverie. I pull it out from my pocket and answer. ‘Hello.’
‘I’m not your slave, you know,’ O’Shea says cheerfully. ‘I have a life. I’ve got other things to do than run around and meet your every whim.’
‘Jesus!’ I explode. ‘It’s not like I’m asking you to lay your sodding life on the line. It’ll take you less than an hour to go to the shop for me. It’s not like I can just wander out of this stupid building whenever I want. The least you can do is this one little favour.’
For a moment, O’Shea doesn’t speak. I rub my forehead tiredly. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean…’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ His voice is distant. ‘I’m at Fingertips and Frolics.’
‘Oh. Well, good. I need you to go inside and speak to the woman there about the feather she gave me.’
‘I can’t.’
I force myself to stay calm. ‘She’s friendly enough, O’Shea. And she’s a neo-druid. They get on all right with daemons, don’t they?’
‘It’s closed.’
‘Oh.’ I’m confused. As it’s a nocturnal store, I’d expect it to be open once twilight hit. ‘Is there anything on the door? Does it say what time it opens?’
‘It’s boarded up, Bo. There is a sign but it says the shop’s shut until further notice.’
That doesn’t make sense. I was only there a few days ago. ‘Are you sure you have the right place?’
‘I’m not an idiot.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting...’ I sigh. ‘Sorry. Again.’
‘Are you okay?’
I nod, then remember I’m on the phone. ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’
‘I can break in,’ O’Shea says helpfully. ‘Have a look around, see if there any clues. I always wanted to be Sherlock Holmes.’
‘Watson.’
‘Huh?’
‘You’re Watson. I’m Holmes.’
‘That’s not fair! I’m the one doing something. You’re lolling around a mansion while I get down and dirty.’
‘Exactly,’ I tell him. ‘That’s because you’re Watson.’
He exhales loudly. ‘So?’
‘So what?’
‘Do you want me to break in?’
I consider the ramifications. Tam, my old boss at Dire Straits, always made it clear that we were never, ever to break the law, no matter what the circumstances were. But Tam’s dead.
‘Do it.’
‘Sure thing, boss. I’ll call you back.’ He clicks off.
I wander deeper into the garden, eventually sitting down on an uncomfortable stone bench. It’s not been twenty-four hours and I’m already regretting my promise to Michael to stay inside the walls of the Montserrat mansion unless he’s with me. Goodness only knows how I’ll manage to get to the Templetons’ house tomorrow. I’m half-tempted to forget about that entirely but if I do, Stephen Templeton will come back. As annoyed as I am at Arzo, I know he’s concerned about me and I don’t want him upset by ghosts from his past.
The phone rings again. I answer quickly. ‘O’Shea?’
‘I’m in.’
‘That was fast.’
‘Yeah. It doesn’t make any sense. Any magic shop worth its salt would have a perimeter spell. This place isn’t even alarmed.’
I think about the vampire alert that went off when I entered. He’s right. It shouldn’t have been that easy.
‘What can you see?’
‘Nothing. The place has been completely emptied.’
I hiss softly through my teeth. What in the hell is going on?
‘Do you want me to hang around? Maybe someone will come back.’
‘No, don’t worry about it. You can get back to your real life.’ I try not to sound too bitter. ‘Thank you, Devlin,’ I say quietly. The least I can do is remember my manners.
‘You’re welcome.’
I tuck the phone away and stare up the brightly lit mansion. A babble of voices floats down from one of the open windows, punctuated by laughter. I draw my knees up to my chest and hug them, then sigh. I’m surrounded by people, many of whom I count as friends, and I’ve never felt more lonely in my life.
* * *
Eventually, deciding that I need to stop wallowing, I pick myself up and head for Michael’s office. The mystery surrounding the strange green feathers and the abrupt closure of Fingertips and Frolics, not to mention the promise I made to Stephen Templeton to investigate Dahlia’s disappearance, give me something to focus on besides my own situation. If I bury myself in work, maybe I’ll forget everything else. It’s apparent, however, that if I’m to manage that I will need to re-negotiate the terms of my imprisonment. Michael’s been reasonable enough so far. I just need to keep my temper and come across like the balanced person I apparently used to be and I’m sure I can get him to agree.
I knock on his door and wait to be summoned. I glance down, scuffing the edge of the carpet with my toe. There are two indented trails leading away from Michael’s door. They’re perfectly even, swerving in from the same direction I came from, then leading away in the opposite one. They must be from Arzo’s wheelchair; I guess that after speaking to me, he made his way here to report back. It occurs to me that if I had agreed to see one of the Montserrat doctors, as Arzo had suggested, anything I said would have been passed on. Nothing’s private.
There’s a muffled ‘come in’ so I cautiously open the door and peer inside. Michael is seated behind his desk, a tall pile of papers in front of him.
‘Do you have a few minutes?’ I try hard to keep my tone polite and non-aggressive. He looks really busy and I don’t want to wait to talk to him.
‘Sure.’
I heave a silent sigh of relief and walk in, closing the door behind me.
He smiles at me, dimples appearing in his cheeks. ‘What can I do for you, Bo?’
I twist my hands nervously. ‘That promise I made…’
The smile disappears instantly, as if someone has pressed delete. ‘Yesterday,’ he says flatly. ‘The promise you made yesterday.’
‘Well, the thing is, I kind of need to go out. I’d rather not see him right now but I’m sure my grandfather might be able to shed some light on the green feathers and their significance. Plus Arzo…’
Michael stands up, folding his arms and glowering down at me. I feel very small. ‘The vampire laws regarding recruitment have been in place for hundreds of years. Some people say they’re archaic, but the law is the law.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘When you join any one of the five Families, you renounce your previous life. You stay within the confines of your new Family’s domain so you can adjust and learn. Until you are strong enough to withstand the sun, you cut all ties to your biological family.’ His expression is flinty. ‘You’ve already broken several of our laws and I’ve bent other ones on your behalf. Your recruitment was unconventional, I know, and you expected to turn Sanguine. However, you still signed the contract, Bo. I’m helping you as much as I can but you need to give me something in return. There’s only so much rule breaking I can allow.’ His eyes travel the length of my body and back up again. I flush. ‘No matter who is doing the asking.’
‘I understand all that. I do. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important. Besides, I’m no weaker than I was when I was a human. I’m much stronger, in fact. An
d I managed to wander around on my own then without too many problems.’
‘You weren’t part of the Montserrat Family then, were you? You have to accept that things are different now. You’ve already had more leeway than any other fledgling has ever had. The other Family Heads were impressed with your actions at Big Ben but they won’t accept you being out on the streets while you remain under the Montserrat name. It’s not just for your benefit, Bo. There’s a strong risk that you’ll be overwhelmed by bloodlust. We can’t afford any more accidents.’
‘I think I’ve shown I can go without blood when I need to,’ I respond stiffly.
‘You almost killed someone once.’
‘When I was a recruit. Not now.’
‘What happens if you spend too much time away and don’t drink? We’ve already proved that you need to be forced into taking the blood you need.’
‘I’ll control it. I won’t let that happen.’
‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘This is getting ridiculous and I can’t allow it to continue. I was wrong to let you have more freedom than the others. All it’s done is make you crave more liberty. It won’t stop until I stop it first. You’re a vampire. Accept it.’
‘The feather…’
‘If you’re that bothered by the feather, then give it to me and I’ll pass it to Arzo to investigate. You can give me the phone and any money you have left at the same time. Enough is enough.’ His face softens for a moment. ‘I know it sounds harsh, Bo. But, believe me, it’ll be better in the long run. I’m being cruel to be kind.’
The walls around me are awash with red. I step over and slam both my palms down on Michael’s desk. ‘It’s not just the fucking feather! There was someone here earlier about Arzo. He needs help and I promised I’d provide it. I…’
I blink. Tam’s body writhes between my hands. He tries to speak but he can’t because there’s a gaping hole where his throat used to be. There’s a strange sound behind me and I spin round, ready to lash out. It’s Tansy, the receptionist from Dire Straits. She’s holding a nail file to her wrist and slashing it across her skin. There’s an inarticulate scream. For a second I don’t know where it’s coming from then I realise it’s coming from me.
‘Bo!’ Michael reaches out, his hand curving round my arm. I fling him off, sending him flying into a nearby wall. He looks stunned.
‘What’s going on?’ I mutter. ‘What the fuck is going on?’
Michael moves towards me again. I feel my fangs growing, jutting out from my mouth and I snarl at him. He grabs something from the desk and hurls it in my direction. I throw up my hands in alarm, attempting to shield myself, but I’m too late. I’m drenched in water and spluttering. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand.
‘What…?’ I say again.
Michael’s arms reach round me again and he pulls me to his chest. ‘Shhh,’ he says. ‘It’s alright, Bo. You’re alright.’
My body is shaking. He smoothes my hair, continuing to murmur. I feel like I’m going to throw up. I pull away and stare at him, wide-eyed.
‘I have to go to the bathroom.’
‘Bo…’
‘I have to go now.’
I turn, yanking opening his office door. Outside I see Nell, looking alarmed. I want to smile at her reassuringly but I can’t. I push past her and dash to the toilet, locking the door behind me then bending over the bowl and retching over and over again. Nothing but bile comes up.
I lean my hot forehead against the wall and screw my eyes shut. I feel the panic of claustrophobia seeping out of every pore. It’s not because of the bathroom – it’s this whole goddamn place. Arzo was right when he said this wasn’t working for me. I can’t do it; I can’t stay here any more. I pull out my phone and search for directory inquiries. There’s a knock and I hear Michael ask if I’m alright. He sounds concerned. I know he could break down the door with his little finger if he so desired, so I tell him I just need a few minutes. Then I get the number I need and call it.
* * *
It takes less time than I thought it would. I’m sitting outside again in the garden with Nell on one side and Beth on the other. I know that Michael is hovering around as well, but I avoid his gaze. I’m terrified about how he’s going to react.
It’s Ria who appears to make the announcement. She looks at me nervously and turns to Michael. She is trying to avoid his eyes as well. ‘Uh, Lord Montserrat, there’s someone here to see Bo.’
‘What?’ His brows snap together. ‘Tell them to get lost.’
She licks her lips. ‘He wants to see you too.’
I stand up. ‘I asked him to come.’ My voice rings out with surprising clarity.
Michael looks at me for a second, his expression unfathomable. Then he focuses back on Ria. ‘Who is it?’
‘He’s a barrister. A human barrister. We’ve had a few dealings with him in the past.’
Michael looks at me again, this time for much longer. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
‘His name is Harry D’Argneau,’ Ria adds helpfully.
A shadow passes across Michael’s face. ‘What does he want, Bo?’ His voice is soft but there’s an underlying steel that makes me shiver.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say for about the umpteenth time today. ‘I have to get out of here.’
A muscle jerks in his cheek, then he strides away. Next to me, Beth is tense. ‘What have you smegging done, Bo?’ she breathes.
I swallow and give her a tremulous smile. ‘What I have to.’ Then I get up and follow the Head of the Montserrat vampires.
I have to hand it to D’Argneau. At this time of night and based on what I already know about him, I’d expected to see him looking somewhat more dishevelled. But he’s immaculately dressed – every inch the professional. This is probably a very dangerous thing for him to do but I guess the allure of knowing more about the inner workings of the Families is too great. He hands some papers to Michael, who looms over him.
‘I’m here to secure the release of Bo Blackman,’ D’Argneau says, as if he’s cheerfully announcing the start of a holiday. If Butlin’s are recruiting any time soon, I reckon he’d be a shoo-in.
There are several sharp intakes of breath.
‘You can’t do that.’
‘The law states clearly that anyone recruited to be a vampire must do so independently and of their own free will.’ He smiles benignly at Michael and gives him a brief bow. ‘My Lord, did you approach Ms Blackman to join you?’
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Michael look so angry. The skin around his mouth is white and his shoulders are hunched. ‘You need to get the hell out of my house,’ he growls.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ D’Argneau says. ‘You placed undue pressure on Ms Blackman to be recruited. Not only that, but you implied that she would not have to be a bloodguzzler.’ He allows himself a small smile. ‘Pardon me. A vampire. You made it quite clear that she could be Sanguine. A term, I believe, for someone who possesses some vampire characteristics but who has not completed the turning process and is more human than vampire. Ms Blackman is not Sanguine, is she?’
Michael doesn’t answer. I get the impression that he’s barely holding himself back from snapping D’Argneau’s neck right here in front of everyone. I’m confused as to why his anger is directed at the lawyer. After all, I’m the one who asked him here. I’m the one who’s going to break the Family law and leave.
D’Argneau continues. ‘In which case, Ms Blackman’s contract is null and void.’
Everyone is so quiet, I swear I can hear Michael’s teeth grinding. He turns to me. ‘What is this about, Bo? That bloody feather?’
I shake my head. ‘No.’ I step up to him until he’s so close I can inhale his masculine scent. ‘It’s about me,’ I say quietly. ‘These walls are closing in on me. I can’t do this. Not for the time it’ll take to become used to the sun.’ I look down for a moment, take a deep breath and raise my eyes. ‘I know you’ve tried to help me. You’ve done far more for
me than anyone could have expected. But you’re right. You can’t break the rules for me. It’s not fair on anyone else. And I can’t stay here like a prisoner. It’s not just the trauma from what happened before. If I stay, this Jekyll and Hyde stuff I’ve been pulling isn’t going to get any better. I didn’t choose this life, Michael. What happened just now in your office…’
‘Was nothing to do with being a vampire or being here.’
‘I know,’ I answer quietly. ‘But being here makes it worse. If there was any other way…’ My voice trails off.
‘I understand,’ interrupts D’Argneau, ‘that the circumstances surrounding Ms Blackman’s recruitment were unique. In every situation, your recruits‒and those recruits from the other Families‒ make the initial approach. Therefore for them, there is no case to answer. That means there will be no repercussions from this for any other vampires. And there should be no repercussions for Ms Blackman.’
‘You’re still a vampire,’ Michael says to me, ignoring D’Argneau. ‘Nothing’s changed.’
‘I know.’
‘You still need to drink.’
‘I know.’
‘Bo, you won’t manage this on your own.’ His face is a mask; I can’t tell whether he’s angry or worried.
Instinctively I reach a hand up to touch his cheek, think better of it and withdraw before I connect. ‘I will.’ I look at the door then glance back at Michael. ‘I really am sorry.’
Then D’Argneau and I walk out.
Chapter Five: Crime Scene
When I wake up, I’m completely disorientated. I can’t remember where, or even who, I am for a few seconds. My disturbed dreams keep playing out in some nightmarish loop. That’s another thing Arzo was right about: I need professional help if I’m going to prove I can do this on my own. I sit up, running my hands through my hair and doing my best to ignore their visible tremor. Then I check my reflection in the rear view mirror and grimace. Even if vampires aren’t really undead, I certainly look like I am. I pinch my cheeks to get some colour into them but all I succeed in doing is making my skin blotchy and sore.
