‘We’re going to see Baxter Burnett?’ Greg asked, wide-eyed.
‘Let’s move, new blood,’ Alex said.
Back down in the car park behind the S&S building, Alex bleeped the locks of her black Jag XKR. She slipped into the driver’s seat and Greg got in beside her. He moved like an overgrown puppy, clumsy and too full of energy, and slammed the door so hard it made the glass shake.
She threw him a hard look. ‘Break my car, I’ll slice your head off.’
‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘I keep forgetting how strong I am now. Like the night-vision thing, too. I feel pretty weird, still kind of dazed.’
‘That’s hardly surprising,’ Alex said, allowing him a smile. ‘One minute you’re getting on fine with your human life, the next thing some vampire’s sticking their teeth in you. Kind of changes things.’ She started the car and pulled away aggressively, the acceleration pressing them back in the leather seats.
‘That how it was for you?’ he asked.
‘Etiquette lesson one. You never ask anyone how they turned. Unless it’s me, your superior, asking you.’
He mumbled an apology.
‘What’s that accent? Tennessee?’
‘Raised in Memphis. You’re good.’
‘I’ve done a lot of moving around in the last century or so,’ she said. ‘But never mind my story.’ She glanced sideways at him. His shirt was open three buttons, and she could see the slim chain around his neck and the pressed tin tags nestling against his chest. ‘Love the dog tags.’
He reached up and touched them. ‘Keepsake, I guess.’
‘So you were in the Marines. What happened?’ As she talked, she was speeding the Jaguar through the London traffic, darting through tiny gaps between buses and black cabs.
Greg took a breath. ‘Yeah, I was doing okay. Made lieutenant younger than my father did, things were looking good. There was this guy on my squad, his name was Tadd. Always screwing around with weapons, kind of obsessive about them. Anyway, one day we’re out on manoeuvres with an armoured vehicle division and Tadd is playing around with the Browning.30 cal on one of the Hummers. I was standing talking to my captain when, bang, Tadd lets off an accidental shot. Caught me right between the shoulder blades.’
‘Hero’s death. Nice.’
‘You said it, after I was decorated in Iraq and all. Anyway, I’m lying there in the military hospital and the pastor’s just read me the last rites. I haven’t got long to go.
Then, when nobody’s looking, this doctor that’s been hanging around me giving me the eye comes over and whispers in my ear, “Psst! Wanna live a little longer?”’
Alex gave a short laugh.
Greg went on. ‘First I thought it was the morphine, fucking with my head. But now I see it’s for real, the guy’s telling me how he’s going to bite me and turn me into a vampire. Said something about recruiting me. I figured, why not, I’d nothing to lose.
Only a jackass would turn down an offer of eternal life. Anyway, then I woke up and I was at the Federation rehab centre with my gunshot wound healed up like I’d never taken a bullet. That was two weeks ago. And here I am.’
‘I’ll bet the Feds had their eye on you the moment you were brought into the hospital,’ Alex said. ‘Good army record, no wife or kids, they’d have had you down as an ideal VIA recruit. That vampire doctor was there to pick out the right candidates. When the opportunity comes up to grab someone who looks like they’ll be an asset, they haul them on board. You know about the probation period, don’t you?’
‘A year, right?’
She nodded. ‘To see how you shape up. Then the Federation Board decides whether you can stay.’
‘And if I can’t?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
He sighed. ‘The only thing that really bugs me is that I’m never allowed to see my folks again, my sister, my friends.’
‘Yeah, well, think about it. One minute they’re weeping over their dear departed’s coffin, the next you show up on the doorstep. That’s why you were posted here to London, to keep you far out of temptation’s way. That’s how the Federation works. We can live among humans, that’s fine. But we can’t get too close to them, can’t get emotionally involved in any way. It’s too big a security risk, in case someone spills the beans. Strictly forbidden.’
‘So let me get this right,’ Greg said. ‘Since the Federation was formed in, what?’
‘Nineteen eighty-four.’
‘Since then, it’s been illegal for vampires to actually turn anyone else into a vampire, correct?’
‘Unless it’s an official recruitment, sanctioned by the Federation authorities.
That’s to keep out what you might call undesirable elements. The kind of vampires that give vampires a bad name, draw the wrong kind of attention to us. The twentieth century changed everything. Internet, communications, surveillance. The world’s a pretty small place now. That’s why the Federation was created, to maintain a low profile for the community.’
‘And to protect humans?’
She glanced at him. ‘Protect humans? That’s our food resource you’re talking about. We’re not doing this because we love humans. This isn’t some politically correct thing. We’re doing this to survive.’
‘What happens to vampires that don’t play by the rules?’ Greg asked.
‘That’s where VIA comes in. Basically we go after them and kick their arses into line.’
‘We kill them?’
‘Destroy them. Already dead, remember.’
Greg made a face. ‘Right.’
‘Only if we absolutely have to, the ones that won’t listen to sense. Mostly they end up cooling their heels in the Federation Detention Centre for a while. But if they’ve done something really bad, or really stupid, sometimes the Ruling Council will vote for a termination. There was one last year. Rock star. Found out that this guy was a vampire, offered him five million quid to make him into one too. The vampire went for it. Two days later the rock star rose up as one of the Undead and the vampire walked off with the five mill.’
‘Oh, boy.’
‘Everyone’s happy, until the day after that, the rock star forgets what he’s become, walks out onto his balcony at sunrise and — whoosh. He went off like a magnesium flare. Some journo got the shot of him burning up. There was a whole thing in the press about human spontaneous combustion.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I remember that. That was Bobby Dazzler, the lead guitarist of Wild Boys.’
‘He certainly dazzled everyone that day. Of course, Bobby’s name wasn’t on the Federation register and we soon tracked down the guy who had turned him, who was now suddenly spending like a sailor and renting a yacht down in St Tropez. The Council didn’t waste time on him. He got zapped. Lethal injection of Nosferol. That’s one of the special drugs that the Federation produces. We have our own fabrication plant in Italy.’
‘I know about the drugs,’ Greg said. ‘Got the whole lecture already. Like this stuff here, for instance.’ He dug a plastic bottle out of his pocket and gave it a shake. The thick green liquid inside clung to the glass.
Alex glanced at it. ‘That’s that shitty blood substitute they give out to newbies like you who aren’t able to juice for themselves yet.’
‘Tastes pretty bad, but it seems to keep me going. What is it, anyway?’
‘Synthetic crap, kind of vampire baby food. But you can’t stay on it forever.
You’re going to have to learn to feed naturally.’
He pulled a face. ‘I’m not looking forward to that part.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s easy. When you get hungry enough, it’ll come naturally. What about your Solazal? You got your supply of that too? I don’t need to be worrying about you?’
He looked blank. ‘My what? Oh, right. Those little white pills.’
‘Shit. When was the last time you took one?’
‘Uh, sometime yesterday, I think.’
Alex slammed her foot on the brake and the
Jag skidded to a halt in the traffic to an angry chorus of horns.
‘You think? Have you any idea what’s going to happen when the effect wears off and you’re still out in daylight? Fizz, it’s over, just like Bobby Dazzler. And on my champagne leather seats?’ She reached into the glove box and handed him a packet of pills. ‘Get one down you right now.’
She took off again as he sucked on the pill. ‘Get this in your head. Solazal is a photosensitivity neutraliser, and it’s the centre of your life from now on. You take one every twelve hours without fail, or you’ll fry.’
‘Kind of a departure from tradition, isn’t it?’ he said sheepishly.
‘Modern age, babe. Got to keep up with the times.’
Chapter Ten
Kate Hawthorne was awoken by the sound of her mother coming into her room.
‘Come on, young lady. Can’t lie there all day. It’s nearly ten past eight and you’re going to be late for school.’
Kate groaned and crawled in deeper under the duvet. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘That’s what you get for all this late night cavorting about,’ her mother snapped.
She ripped open the curtains and then marched over to the bed to yank back the edge of the duvet. Kate flinched as the pale autumn sunlight hit her in the face. It was hardly bearable. She tried to grab the duvet back from her mother but fell back, half blinded and gasping.
‘Look at you. What on earth’s the matter with you?’
‘Please, Mum. I’ve got a terrible headache.’
‘You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?’
‘I haven’t been drinking.’ But the truth was, Kate realised, she could hardly remember a thing about the night before. She vaguely recalled being with Dec, then the argument. Storming off down the road; the big posh Rolls stopping for her.
And that was it. The rest was a big, yawning blank. How had she got home? Had the man brought her back? Who was he? And where had she seen his face before?
Kate squinted up at her mother. The expression of tight-lipped disapproval made it perfectly clear that her daughter had not been driven home to 16 Lavender Close in a Rolls-Royce. That would have been cause for celebration for Mrs Gillian Hawthorne.
‘You don’t have to look so sour.’ You old cow, she wanted to add. She kept it back, but it must have shown in her eyes, because the disapproving look on her mother’s face deepened a couple of tints.
‘The police called here earlier about your boyfriend.’
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Kate protested.
‘That’ll be why your neck is covered in lovebites. Little tart.’
Kate put her fingers to her neck and winced. Did Dec do that? ‘What about the police?’ she murmured.
‘He crashed his car last night. Drunk, no doubt.’
Kate tried to sit up in bed, and the ache thudded through her head. ‘What? Is he all right?’
‘He’ll survive. That’s what cockroaches do, isn’t it? Why couldn’t you go out with Giles Huntley?’
‘I hate Giles Huntley. He’s a creep and he has bad breath.’
‘At least he has a good education and a future ahead of him when he goes to Cambridge. He’s not going to spend his life poking around in filthy grease under a car bonnet. Have you seen the state of Declan Maddon’s fingernails?’
Please make her shut up, Kate thought. The pain felt like a blunt chisel blade being hammered into her skull and then twisted from side to side. Her vision was exploding with it.
And still her mother went on. ‘You know what’s going to happen if you keep this up, my girl, don’t you? Pregnant. That’s what happened to Chardonnay Watson, isn’t it?
Going around with lowlifes. Next thing, a bun in the oven. What a disaster. Mind you, with a name like Chardonnay it was to be expected and it’s probably all she was good for anyway…’
Kate watched her mother ranting on. The words faded out in her ears. For a brief instant she felt a rush of emotions surging up inside her, momentarily blanking out the pain in her head. Feelings she’d never had before, and a sense of power that was almost overwhelming.
Before she knew what was happening, she had her mother by the throat.
Shaking her like a terrier with a rat. Screaming, ‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ Her mother’s tongue hanging out, her face turning blue as she throttled the life out of her.
But then she was back on her bed and her mother was still standing there, going on at her.
What was happening? Was she going crazy?
‘—should have done a long time ago. St Hildegard’s will be a far better environment for a young lady. You’ll make proper friends, with the right type of people.’
‘Boarding school?’ Kate burst out.
‘Didn’t you hear a word I said? Starting after the Christmas holidays. And in the meantime, you won’t be going anywhere near that family of pikeys next door, I can tell you.’
Kate buried her face in the pillow as her mother went on and on. The migraine was making her want to cry, and she felt sick to her stomach. And weak, so terribly weak, as though the energy had just been sucked out of her.
But somehow, deep inside, she knew something was different about her.
Something had happened. Everything felt somehow sharper. More defined. Smells, colours, the floral pattern on the wallpaper her mother had insisted on for the bedroom.
Kate knew she had changed. How and why, she didn’t yet know.
But for some reason she couldn’t understand…
She wasn’t afraid.
Chapter Eleven
The Ritz Hotel, London
Alex walked into the grand entrance lobby and crossed the red carpet to the desk, with Greg trailing along behind her.
‘We’ve come to see Mr Burnett in the Trafalgar Suite. He’s expecting us.’
Two minutes later Alex rapped on the door of the suite. It opened and a woman in her late fifties, with a thin face and short hair, stood in the doorway giving them an icy stare.
‘Where’s Baxter?’ Alex said.
‘He’s busy at the moment. I’m his agent. You can talk to me.’
Alex’s nose twitched at the woman’s human scent.
‘I don’t think so. Out of the way.’ She shouldered past her and through the door.
Greg followed, looking around him in awe at the decor. The agent tried to squeeze in after them; Alex shoved her hard out into the corridor and slammed the door in her face.
Baxter Burnett wasn’t that busy. He was settled back confidently on a plush sofa in the suite’s living room, his feet up on a table and his arms behind his head. He looked like he’d been working on his tan, and his hair was immaculately groomed. The sleeves of his white shirt were turned up just enough to show off the toned muscles of his forearms and the chunky gold watch on his wrist. He smiled a glittering Hollywood smile as Alex and Greg walked into the suite.
‘You certainly have a way with people, Miss—?’
‘Special Agent Alex Bishop. What we have to discuss with you isn’t for human ears.’
Baxter just kept on grinning his million-dollar grin. Alex motioned to Greg. ‘This is my colleague, Agent Shriver.’
‘Have a seat,’ Baxter said graciously. He turned and snapped his fingers.
‘Charlie!’ A heavyset assistant came out of the next room. His unsmiling gaze landed on the two VIA agents.
‘Charlie, get this lovely young lady and her friend a drink,’ Baxter said. Charlie stared a second longer, then went away.
‘It’s okay,’ Baxter said easily. ‘Charlie’s one of us.’
‘I can see that,’ Alex said. She and Greg sat on armchairs facing Baxter, and a few seconds later Charlie returned carrying a tray with three cut-crystal tumblers brimming with red liquid. He laid it down on a coffee table before leaving the room.
Alex took a glass and sipped it. Greg sniffed uncertainly at his, pulled a face and set it back down on the coffee table.
Baxter was giving Alex admiring
looks. ‘Anyone ever tell you, Agent Bishop, you have beautiful eyes?’
‘Plenty of times. Let’s get down to business. Your first big movie break was Down and Dirty, am I right?’
Baxter smiled. ‘That was a good movie. You a film fan, Agent Bishop?’
‘As a matter of fact, I am.’
‘But you didn’t come here to talk movies, I imagine.’ Baxter looked at his watch, like saying he was a busy man and didn’t have all day.
‘Of course we did,’ Alex said. ‘We take a great interest in your work. But here’s the problem. We couldn’t help but notice, Baxter — Down and Dirty was twelve years ago.’
‘Yeah, so?’
‘Our sources tell us that a week ago, you read for the part of Jake Gyllenhaal’s younger brother in the new Universal production, Firestorm. Is that true?’
Baxter reddened slightly. ‘Sure it’s true. It’s a great role for me. What’s the big deal?’
‘Baxter, you’re so fucking stupid,’ Alex said. ‘Don’t you think people will think it’s a bit peculiar, you never ageing? You think you can go on playing thirty-year-old guys for evermore?’
Baxter’s composure was slipping fast. ‘So I have boyish good looks. So did Mickey Rooney. So does DiCaprio. I work out. What the fuck is it VIA’s fucking business what I do, anyway?’ He stood up, spilling his drink over himself; a red arc across white cotton. ‘This is what you assholes came here for, to hassle me about the roles I take?
Get the fuck out of here. Charlie! Show these two dipshits the door!’
Alex leapt to her feet. She was on him in two steps, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him violently back down on the sofa. Her hand snaked inside her coat and came out with the stainless steel.44 Smith & Wesson revolver. She shoved the three-inch barrel of the magnum point blank in his face.
‘What ya gonna do, shoot me?’ Baxter snorted. ‘You can’t hurt me with that thing.’
‘Let me tell you something, Baxter. I am a senior special agent of Vampire Intelligence. That means I’m authorised to use Nosferol-tipped bullets. I have six of them right here. You do know what Nosferol is, don’t you?’
Uprising vf-1 Page 4
