by Sean Stone
“I’ve been down here for weeks. Maybe months. Trapped. The lift wouldn’t work for me. It worked on the way down, but not on the way up,” he replied. He wasn’t making any demands. He must not have a plan. If he’d been trapped that long then he was acting on impulse, just trying to get out. He was desperate.
“How have you stayed alive?” said Clara. Without a supply of blood, he must be famished.
“A vampire can last a very long time without blood,” he said, but judging from the way his skin was clinging to his skull he didn’t have long left before he starved and then… Well, Clara didn’t actually know what happened to a vampire when it starved. “Enough questions. You’re going to get me out of here.”
“How?” Clara looked at Bianca and saw the terror in her eyes. She tried to give her a reassuring look but it did no good.
“In the lift,” the vampire said.
“You said it didn’t work.”
“It doesn’t for me. My guess, because I’m a vampire. But you’re not. You’re a sorcerer and a Winters. The lift will work for you.”
“You know who I am?” said Clara. If he was hungry then he was weak, which meant he’d be slower than usual. She had a chance.
“Of course. We’ve met before. In the police station. I made you forget.”
Clara was going to say she didn’t remember that happening but then realised how stupid that would be. Instead, she said nothing. She quickly darted her eyes to the wall behind him, hoping it would distract him. It did. He looked round to see what she’d looked at and she flicked her hand forward and shouted: “Ramy!” The throwing spell which Jamal had taught her. It worked. A force shot out of her hand and knocked the vampire into the worktop behind him. Bianca ran toward Clara screaming as she did. The vampire was up faster than Clara had hoped he would be. He ran at them and threw them both against the wall with more force than Clara had felt in her entire life. As she connected with the wall she felt her stitches tear and warm blood spilled out of her stomach. With one hand pressed against the wound, she looked around for a weapon. The vampire didn’t come after her, he probably didn’t want to get hit with more magic. Instead, he went for Bianca again. Clara snatched a gun from the worktop, aimed as best she could and pulled the trigger. The rapport was deafening, rebounding off the walls and making her ears ring. She saw the bullet enter his neck just below the ear. He turned to face her, a look of pure shock on his face. He raised a hand to his head and bent over as if he had an agonising migraine. Bianca backed away slowly, a horrified expression on her face. When he looked up again Clara saw that blood was pouring from his eyes, nose and ears. He opened his mouth and made a choked sound as dark blood ran through his lips, splashing on the floor in torrents. He said one gargled word that may have been “help” and then he fell face down on the once pristine white floor. His body twitched twice. His pale brown flesh turned grey, his eyes fogged over, and then he was still. He looked like a stone statue laying on the floor, his face contorted in excruciating pain.
I always wondered what vampires looked like when they died. She didn’t put the gun down, just in case he somehow got back up. She stepped around the pool of blood that surrounded the vampire and hugged her friend tightly. Bianca hugged her back but there was no strength in her embrace. Her skin had turned as white as milk and her eyes were distant, staring off at the wall.
“Bianca, are you okay?” Clara asked, holding her up by her arms. She looked like she was going to faint.
“Yeah, I just need to sit down,” she said vacantly. Clara guided her to one of the desks and helped her into the chair. She was in shock and quite rightly. Clara remembered the first time she’d seen someone die. It had been her father. She shook the memory away before it caused a reaction and then sat down herself. Her wound was still leaking. She needed to get it sewn back up and fast before she fainted herself. She pulled out her phone and called Jamal.
He was there in minutes and Clara soon found herself and Bianca being escorted to the medical wing in the research building. Jamal had tried to send them both to the hospital but Clara refused and he had acquiesced. Clara assured him that she would be back as soon as she was sewn back up. Once upstairs the doctor gave Bianca a sedative, saying she needed to rest and then put her to bed.
“Oh dear,” he said when he looked at the wound. “You really shouldn’t be doing any vigorous activity until this has healed fully.”
“We’re short-staffed,” Clara said.
“Yes, Sergeant Rasul explained the situation to me,” he replied. Jamal had had a brief chat with the doctor before going back to the lab.
“Acting Sergeant,” Clara corrected. She wasn’t sure why she needed to clarify that point, but she felt that she did.
“Well, I’m going to redo these stitches but it will be very painful. I’ll give you a little aesthetic,” the doctor said.
“I think I can handle it,” she replied. She’d never had aesthetic for stitches before, it had never hurt that much at all.
“All the same,” he said and pulled out a small needle. She didn’t bother fighting, there was no point. The sooner she got this over with the sooner she could get back to the lab. Besides, what was the harm in not feeling pain? She felt the needle go in and it went out a second later.
“Okay. Why don’t you lay back for me,” he said. She started to lay down on the bed and when she moved the room seemed to wobble as if she was on a boat. She suddenly felt incredibly tired.
“What have you…” she began in a slurred voice. Her lids were starting to close of their own accord. She’d been drugged.
“I’m terribly sorry, Constable Winters, but Acting Sergeant Rasul insisted that you get some rest too. Don’t worry, though, by the time you wake up your stitches will be mended and…”
Clara didn’t hear the rest. Despite her best efforts at fighting the sedative it won the fight and she was sleeping soundly.
*
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
James hadn’t stolen any magic since the fight in Riverside. That was nine days ago. He’d spent the first few days craving power, every thought was of slipping his blade into some sorcerer’s flesh and sucking away the very thing that made them special. The feeling of utter exhilaration he experienced when he performed the ritual was like no drug he had ever taken; it easily matched the high he used to get from speed and then some. But Kristen would not let him take any more power. She’d recognised the addictive behaviours quickly enough and made her feelings clear.
“I spent too long ridding you of addiction to let you find a new one,” she said, on the third day of him asking to find a new sorcerer.
“But Nick needs me to gather power,” James argued.
“Nick is satisfied with the amount of power you have,” she said, smiling at his efforts.
“But the more power I have the more useful I am,” said James. He pulled out the knife he’d been using in the rituals and examined the blade carefully. He’d cleaned all the blood off now and it sparkled in the sunlight. He glanced at his bracelet, which held all the power he had stolen. The knife and the bracelet were perfect companions, like father and son. Thoughts of his son were returning to him again now. He no longer felt as detached as he had after he’d killed the four sorcerers at Nick’s behest. Back then all that mattered was the power. In those brief moments, Dean didn’t matter in the least. He was ashamed that he’d let that happen, but it didn’t stop him from wanting more power.
Kristen snatched the knife from his hands. He reached to take it back but the look in her eyes made him back away again. “If Nick finds out you’re turning back into what you used to be he’ll stab you with this dagger,” she warned him. “Come with me.”
She teleported him to his own house. He hadn’t been in it since before the curse was broken, until recently he’d been a prisoner, and once freed he realised that the house held nothing for him. It had only ever been a place to sleep and the room he had at number thirteen was more than adequate.
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br /> “What are we doing here?” he asked, sensing a trick of some kind.
“Reminding you what matters,” she replied and strolled up the garden path to the front door. With a wave of her hand the door swung open and she led him inside. He followed her upstairs and his stomach knotted when he clocked on to where they were heading.
“This isn’t necessary,” he said.
“It is,” she replied, and then shoved him through the door to Dean’s bedroom. He hadn’t changed it since the day Dean left, other than to tidy it up. His bed was still there with his blue and red striped duvet set. His West Ham United clock was still on the wall which was covered with football and half naked girl posters. There were a couple of football trophies still on the shelf, but the rest of Dean’s things were gone. He’d taken them with him when he’d left to live with his mother.
“You told me that you joined us so that you could get your cure and then rectify things with your son,” Kristen said. He looked away, not wanting to meet her eye.
“I know.”
“Every time you give in to addiction you push your son one step farther away.”
He nodded, filling with shame for the first time since the mass-murders he’d carried out. “Why are you doing this? I would’ve thought you’d want me to forget about Dean, so I could fully commit to you guys.”
“You need to have something to fight for James. Without it, you’re just a shell. We all have something we want, something we’re working towards. That’s what has brought us all together — a desire so strong that we would do anything to fulfil it. Even Nick.”
The ultimate goal. He wanted to ask what her desire was but knew that he wouldn’t get an answer. Kristen never opened up. Every now and then she did something that made it seem like she would, but then as soon as he asked a question she’d close back up again.
“Thank you. For reminding me,” he said and met her eyes for the first time since arriving at the house. She smiled slightly and gripped his arm with her hand giving an affectionate squeeze. It was the friendliest thing he had ever seen her do, maybe she was warming to him.
“Let’s go,” she said, and then they were gone.
That had taken place six days ago. As the days went by the strength of his craving subsided until it was little more than a niggling voice in the back of his mind; one he could easily ignore. He was ashamed of how easily he had let addiction take control of him again. His sense of belonging did not diminish as he thought it would after Kristen had reminded him what he was working toward. He felt at home with the Thirteen now, as if he had always been one of them. Julian said that magic has a way of invading every part of a man’s mind and changing the way they think, but James thought it had more to do with Kristen and what she had told him about the Thirteen. Each of them had a goal just like he did. It made it easier to relate to them, to see them as human rather than psychopathic warlocks.
James had spent the morning in lessons with Kristen. He was a lot better at commanding his magic now. He could perform silent spells with ease and was even starting to create his own rather than using ones he’d learned from the books. Kristen was trying to teach him to teleport even though she believed it was far too early — he had insisted and she had rather uncharacteristically relented.
“Any luck?” Nick asked casually as he approached from inside the house. He sat down on the brick wall that surrounded the patio.
“Not yet,” Kristen replied, and turned to face him.
“Forget about it for now. I have a job for you,” Nick said. “Clara Winters has finally managed to find the weapons at the research facility.”
“She’s out of hospital?” James asked.
“Yes, has been for a few days. I didn’t tell you because I thought you might try to kill her again,” he joked.
“She tried to kill me first,” was James’ retort.
“Aw, was that mean girl picking on you?” Kristen said in a mock voice. James threw her a sour look and then returned his attention to Nick.
“Jamal has seen to it that Clara and her friend are out of the picture for now but William and the rest of his team will turn up as soon as the sun goes down.”
“What do you need us to do?” Kristen asked.
“I don’t want Jamal doing anything that might compromise his position. There could be some kind of surveillance that he can’t interfere with in that place. You two go down there, have a look at the weapons and bring back anything that might be able to cause us trouble. Or better yet destroy it.”
Kristen teleported them to the labs immediately. Once they arrived at the labs Kristen phoned Jamal and he told her how to get into the secret lab. Bypassing security was fairly easy, easier than it should have been considering what went on in the building. They found Jamal alone in the secret lab quietly perusing a great glass box that stood in the centre of the room.
“What’s that?” Kristen asked casually as if she didn’t much care either way. James was in awe of everything, from the secret lift to the array of items in the lab. He’d worked for Jonathan for years and not once had he been aware of all this.
“A cage. I’ve been reading the research notes.” Jamal held up a bundle of papers in his right hand. “It’s quite impressive. It’s built to contain vampires, sorcerers and werewolves. So if a sorcerer is inside then it blocks their magic, if a vampire is inside and it touches the glass then the box emits UV light rays and if a werewolf touches the glass from the inside then colloidal silver fills the spaces between the panes of glass. Of course, I haven’t tested it so I don’t know if it works and these notes don’t answer that question. There is a holding space upstairs though which is full of cages just like this one, so they were at least planning on using them.”
“Fascinating, shall we get on with it?” Kristen said and walked over to items laid out along one long worktop. James followed her and that’s when he noticed the deceased vampire laying face down in a pool of his own blood.
“Is that… Jeremy Devlin?” James asked, moving closer to get a better look.
“Yes, it is,” Jamal replied. “He attacked Clara Winters and she shot him with one of the guns she found down here.”
“That girl certainly knows how to look after herself,” Kristen muttered. She rolled Jeremy over with one foot and revealed his blood-streaked face.
“A gun did that?” James asked. Blood seemed to have poured from every orifice.
“Yes, it did. Some sort of blood poisoning bullet,” he said and shrugged.
“Blood poisoning?” James asked.
“Mhmm. I don’t know the fine details, I only know the name.” Jamal pointed at the weapons on the worktop and shelves, and James saw that they all had labels. “Some of them come with information,” Jamal said. He picked up a jar of light blue tablets and gave them a shake. “These apparently have an effect on the brain which inhibits a vampire’s mind manipulation.”
“We never needed those when I worked for the council,” James said. Learning to resist mind manipulation was part of the training all council members and employees took under Jonathan’s tenure as mayor. The pills would certainly be an easier method for achieving such a feat; mastering the skill using mind power alone was not easy to accomplish.
“How did they make all this stuff?” Kristen wondered aloud.
“From what I can tell it’s a combination of science and magic,” said Jamal.
“I didn’t think the two were compatible,” James muttered, but nobody replied.
“So what are Nick’s instructions?” Jamal asked.
“Destroy anything that can be used against us,” Kristen said plainly. She was moving along the worktop, looking at each item in turn.
“Going by the names alone it’s hard to tell what might be dangerous to us,” Jamal replied. “Are we any closer to performing the ritual?”
“We’re just waiting for the Cain to turn up with the chopped up ancient,” Kristen said as she continued looking at the weapons.
&n
bsp; The lift door suddenly slid shut, making them all turn and look at it. James assumed it was going back upstairs, but it moved so silently it was impossible to tell.
“Someone’s coming,” Jamal said. He glanced at his watch and then cursed. “It’s after sunset, it’s William.” James’ heart began drumming rapidly in his chest. They were supposed to have been finished before William turned up.
“We’ll go. Don’t let him take any weapons,” Kristen said. She grabbed James by the arm and pull him close, ready to teleport them.
“Well go then,” Jamal urged after several seconds of standing nothing.
“I’m trying. It isn’t working,” she said through clenched teeth.
“It must not work in here,” Jamal said, looking around as if there might be an answer hanging on the walls.
“In here, as in this room, or in here as in this building?” Kristen demanded.
“I don’t know,” Jamal snapped. “Probably just the room. It was designed to keep things secret and Jeremy got stuck down here when he found a way in. My guess is once an intruder is in the room it somehow doesn’t let them out again. Some kind of spell I guess. Get in the cage.”
“What?” James and Kristen both said together.
“William will be here in seconds. I can convince him that I detained you and I’ll help you escape later.”
“I don’t think so,” James said. He’d spent enough time as a prisoner over the last few months; he had no plans to do it again.
“He’s right,” Kristen said. “It’s either that or we’ll have to try and fight our way out and we don’t know who might be in that lift.”
James sighed loudly to show how unhappy he was and then followed them over to the cage. Jamal was reading the notes as they walked. He placed his hand on the surface of the glass and a small hole appeared next to his palm. It spun round and as it did it grew larger until it was big enough for a person to go through. Kristen went in first and then James. Once they were both inside Jamal withdrew his hand and the doorway disappeared in an instant.
