13
Convincing a grand wizard to give me a sample of Pope Leo XIII’s blood; now there was an errand I never saw coming.
L’Merrier’s Antiques was located on a side street off Portobello Road, not far from the market. Outside, a wooden sign bearing the shop’s name in hand-painted cursive squeaked in the wind.
‘So what’s the plan?’ I asked. ‘We just walk in there and say, “Please can we have some of your Pope blood”?’
Gendith shrugged. ‘Unless you have a better idea.’
I didn’t, which made “smile and ask nicely” the best plan we had.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the shop door. The boutique was musty and cloaked in gloom. Antiques crowded the surprisingly roomy space; an imposing collection of rare and precious oddments drawn from centuries gone by. Though many of the artefacts had lost their lustre, they stood upon bowed shelves with their pride intact, varnished with a patina of age and wisdom. I breathed in the mellow aromas of oak and mahogany and old clays; ancient smells that had yet to evaporate, that had refused to be claimed by the passage of time.
Looking closer, I saw other things among the hotch-potch of relics. Unsettling things. Shrunken heads, an abacus adorned with glass eyes, a pair of bellows claiming to contain a dying man’s curse, a tapestry decorated with an eerily lifelike depiction of an ancient battle; a battle whose combatants seemed to shift and squirm the moment they were looked away from, as though locked in some eternal skirmish. I saw wands too, spell books, figurines, the kind of stuff I might have found on Neil’s writing desk, only this stuff wasn’t purchased at the Harry Potter Shop or Forbidden Planet. This was the real deal.
I stepped up to the dusty shop counter hoping to be greeted by the owner. There was no one behind it though, not unless you included the life-size terracotta warrior stood there, arms folded and staring out at us blankly. The only sign of any human presence besides our own was an antique till covered in clunky keys that looked more like an aging typewriter than a modern day cash register.
‘Hello,’ I called. ‘Anyone there?’
No reply.
‘Looks like the place is deserted,’ Gen whispered, perusing L’Merrier’s wares.
Given that there seemed to be no one around, I decided to look the place over too. The question was, where in all of this junk was I going to find Pope blood?
Then I saw it.
Right there, a phial sitting on a red velvet cushion lining a small wooden casket. A phial labelled POPE BLOOD: LEO XIII (1897)
The casket was wide open and on display next to the till, sitting there like something you’d impulse buy. Like a last-second knick-knack you’d snatch up and pay for without a second thought.
Um, I’ll take a dragon skull, a couple of mystical scrolls, and… oh, go ahead and bung some of that Pope blood on the tab, would you?
I looked over my shoulder to see that Gen had spotted the phial too. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ she asked.
Stealing pope blood? Surely there had to be a special place in Hell for people who did that? Still, whatever got me out of that creepy little shack the quickest.
I checked for security cameras but found nothing, which was hardly surprising given that nothing in L’Merrier’s shop looked younger than Jack the Ripper.
Much as I didn’t like the idea of pinching something that didn’t belong to me, I didn’t fancy haggling over it with the shop’s proprietor either, particularly since I’d been warned about what a piece of work he was. The way Viz told it, before L’Merrier set up shop here, he was an ancient and extremely powerful wizard who strode across the world, destroying anything he took a disliking too. Would he do the same to me if I helped myself to his phial? Pissing a person like that off was bound to have consequences, but then Neil’s life was hanging in the balance...
I went for the phial, but no sooner had I reached across the counter for it than a hand had shot out and gripped me by the wrist.
The terracotta warrior glowered at me, as animated as one of Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion skeletons.
Busted.
Gen came to my assistance, but was stopped by a new interloper: a rusty suit of medieval armour that sprang from the shadows and grabbed her from behind in a metal bear hug.
We struggled to break free of our captors but they were too strong. The suit of armour held on to Gen like a vice, while the terracotta warrior managed to get his other hand to the back of my head and force my face into the shop counter, pinning me there.
‘Well well,’ said a full-bodied voice from the back of the shop. ‘What do we have here?’
I managed to turn my head just enough to get a look at the sideways image of a pair of eyes gleaming from the darkness. From out of the gloom stepped a solid-built man with caterpillar-thick eyebrows and and a head that was bald as an egg. He walked in confident strides, dressed in a tent-like smock that covered him from his neck to his knees. He should have looked ridiculous, but the effect only succeeded in exaggerating his powerful frame and making him all the more imposing.
This was Giles L’Merrier.
He came around the counter and cocked his head to one side so he could get a better look at me. ‘Another foolish youngster seeks to covet my treasures,’ he said, shaking his head pityingly. ‘What is it with you Millennials, thinking you can help yourself to whatever you please? Millennials, I ask you! As though this Millennium of yours is any more significant than the one that preceded it.’ He pounded his fist on the counter, right next to my face, so hard that he left a divot in the wood. ‘Well, my young friend, I assure you, there is no “safe space” for you here.’
‘Please,’ I said. ‘We’re not thieves. Honest.’
‘Oh no? I suppose you were going to pay me back at a later time, were you? Post an envelope under the door containing my remuneration? Is that it?’ His jowls quivered as he worked himself into a fury. ‘You will pay for this crime. Both of you will, I’ll soon see to that.’
Just then, Gen managed to slip free of her captor and land the suit of armour with an elbow that sent its helmet toppling from its non-existent head. Wasting no time, she leapt at L’Merrier’s back and drew a knife in one fluid motion, point aimed between the wizard’s shoulder blades.
Attacking an unarmed man from behind? Lauden had a point; maybe Gen’s halo could do with a spot of polish.
L’Merrier whirled around and dispatched his attacker with a weary flick of his wrist. Snatched mid-air by the wizard’s magic, Gen went rocketing skywards, bounced off the ceiling, and crashed to the ground in an ungainly heap. She wasn’t done yet though. Much to my surprise, she succeeded in springing to her feet almost instantly, and, undaunted, made a second run at L’Merrier.
She should have learned from the first time.
A couple of steps into her charge, Gen came to a stop like she’d collided with a brick wall.
Crunch.
If the mighty L’Merrier took any pleasure in turning the tables on his wannabe assassin, he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply raised a hand and Gen was plucked into the air like a marionette tugged up on its strings. ‘You dare?’ he seethed.
He made a ball of his hand and I felt a change of pressure in the room that made my ears pop. Instantly, Gen reacted like she’d been taken in the fist of a giant; crunched into a ball, tight as a walnut. She screamed in pain.
‘I could kill you a million different ways,’ L’Merrier boomed, as Gen hovered before him like a foetus. ‘I could make a rope trick out of your guts and strangle you to death with your own intestines. I could compress your brain into a marble. Transmute the contents of your stomach into hydrochloric acid.’
I heard a wince-making popping sound as one of Gen’s bones came free of its socket. L’Merrier was going to kill her.
‘Stop!’ I pleaded.
‘Why? Tell me why I should show this filthy cur mercy,’ he said, tightening his meaty ham of a fist and causing Gen to shriek even louder. ‘Tell me why
I shouldn’t crush her like a grape.’
‘She only pulled a knife on you to protect me.’
‘And who exactly are you?’ he asked.
I thought about trying to break free of the statue’s grip, about rushing the wizard and sticking him with my own knife. But instead of putting up a fight, I thought I’d take a shot at something else.
I’d tell him the truth.
A bit of a novelty, I know, but I figured I was meant to be on the side of the angels, so why not act accordingly?
‘I’m the Nightstalker,’ I replied. ‘I guard the frontier between civilisation and a vampire—’
‘Yes, yes,’ he cut in, ‘I know very well what the Nightstalker is.’
L’Merrier unfurled his fist and Gen collapsed to the floor, a panting, groaning mess. Addressing the statue pressing my face into the shop counter, the wizard instructed his earthenware enforcer to turn over my hands then, perching a pair of pince-nez on his nose, leant over and inspected the brand on my right palm.
‘You really are the Nightstalker,’ he said, incredulous.
‘That’s right. Why, what were you expecting, Kate Beckinsale in a skin-tight leather catsuit?’
L’Merrier shook his head, amazed. ‘A female Nightstalker? Extraordinary. Then again, they did manage to put a monkey in space…’
Clearly, the only rational response to that comment was to kick the old bastard in the balls so hard he tasted them, but in the end, calmer thoughts prevailed.
‘I didn’t come here to steal from you, Mr L’Merrier. I’m on an important mission.’
He narrowed his eyes at me, then gave the terracotta warrior a nod. The statue took the pressure from my head, allowing me to stand up straight.
‘Proceed,’ said the wizard. ‘Respectfully.’
I angled my head to one side and stretched the crick from my neck. ‘I need your help,’ I explained, as humbly as I could. ‘My boyfriend was turned into a vampire, and I’m looking for the cure.’
The shopkeeper offered a stiff smile. ‘You are telling me that you allowed your beau to become one of the enemy? Just what kind of a Nightstalker are you? How could you possibly have let that happen?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, throwing up my hands. ‘Maybe it was… maybe it was just meant to happen. Maybe Neil being turned into a vampire is kind of a test. I mean, everything happens for a reason, right?’
‘I believe it does,’ said L’Merrier, ‘and in this case, I believe the reason is that you are very bad at your job.’
The brand glowed hot in my hand. Once again, I felt the urge to propel the bloke’s genitals into his throat. Once again, I stopped myself.
‘I’m new to the job, okay? I’m trying my best out there, but it’s me against about a million Draculas. Give me a chance, it’s not like they taught this shit in school.’
L’Merrier harrumphed. ‘Spoken like a true hero.’
I struggled against the statue pinning my wrists. ‘Listen, I’ve had about as much of this as I can take...’
From the floor, Gen croaked a warning. ‘Abbey, be careful…’
‘No,’ I said, feeling my cheeks flame. I turned to L’Merrier and looked him square in the eye. ‘All I’m asking for is for a drop of Pope blood and a bit of friendly advice. That’s all. Now, are you going to help me, or are you going to stand there like a fucking plum?’
Having overstepped my bounds somewhat, the statue spun me around and cuffed me hard across the side of the head.
L’Merrier snarled and held up a hand—I assumed to do away with me—but in a surprise turn of events, it was the statue who felt his wrath.
BADOOF!
As the wizard balled his hand into a fist, the terracotta warrior exploded, sending a cloud of fine sand every which way.
I looked to the ground to see Gen covered in the statue’s remains, eyes wide under a blanket of orange powder.
L’Merrier sighed. ‘Such a shame. A priceless antiquity, destroyed. Still, I will not abide violence in my premises.’
‘Really?’ wheezed Gen, still recovering from the spell that had threatened to crush her into a ball of meat and bone.
A thought occurred. L’Merrier had shown us a taste of his power, but when he blew up that statue, he’d shown us compassion too. His sense of what was good and right. So long as he had that in him—a heart under that fusty, belligerent exterior—maybe I could get through to him.
‘Look, it’s pretty obvious we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, Mr L’Merrier, but I promise you, we are on the same side. All I want is to cure my boyfriend and get one more vampire off the face of this planet. Is there anything you can do to help me out? Anything at all?’
He looked to Gen lying on the floor, then back to me. ‘The vampire who turned this… boyfriend of yours, to which clan did he belong?’
‘The Judas Clan,’ I replied.
L’Merrier seemed to tense for moment, then he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his smock and folded his arms. ‘Many centuries ago, before I became the man I am today, I had my own brush with that particular tribe.’ He regarded me like a monk; composed, serene. ‘Judas and his kin were far fewer back then, numbering no more than a dozen. They were less powerful too, less… evolved. As a matter of fact, at that point in time, they were still affected by sunlight. Lethally so. At night though, they would move among the living with impunity, snatching victims from their beds and dragging them away to their den to be feasted upon. We were nothing but food to the Judas Clan, livestock to be slaughtered as they pleased... or so they thought.’
‘You kicked back?’
The wizard squared his broad shoulders and stood tall. ‘None of my fellow villagers was brave enough to face Judas and his vampires, not even during the daytime while they slumbered. Any man foolish enough to venture into their cave with a stake and mallet might succeed in destroying one of the creatures—perhaps even two—but after that, they’d be set upon by the rest and torn to ribbons. No, it would take more than brute force to rid the village of its oppressors. It would take a man of great courage and boundless ingenuity. A man named Giles L’Merrier.’
I tried not to roll my eyes as he went on (and on and on).
‘I ventured into the cave alone; one man against a dozen. I didn’t come bearing a sharpened rod of ash though, I came equipped with platters of polished metal. Why, you ask? I shall tell you. As I crept into the Clan’s burrow, I strategically placed each of these platters upon a pole, and through a mathematical process of careful angulation, I was able to bring the outside of the cave into its very heart, and cleanse it of the disease that had taken root there.’
‘You used mirrors to reflect the sunlight into the den.’
L’Merrier smiled. ‘Very good. Perhaps you’re more than a space monkey after all.’
‘Cheers. Quick question though: if you wiped the Clan out, how come I’m still at war with them?’
L’Merrier’s expression soured. ‘Somehow Judas sensed my arrival and burrowed deeper into the cave, escaping the purifying light. By the time I’d summoned the rest of the villagers to help me root him out, the Clan master had fled his den and moved on.’
‘Okay then. So help me finish what you started. Help me finish Judas off for good.’
The wizard waved a hand at me dismissively. ‘Times have changed, girl. I no longer hunt vampires.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I have far more pressing matters to attend to than mere bloodsuckers. Judas and his Clan are but fleas to the mighty Giles L’Merrier.’
By this point, Gen had succeeded in peeling herself off the floor and clambering to her feet. Her right arm hung unevenly from its shoulder joint, limp and straight. ‘Give it up, Abbey, he’s not going to help us.’
I turned to L’Merrier. ‘Is that right? Are you really going to stand there and do nothing?’
He stared back at me, his expression unchanged, unmoved by my plea.
‘Fine, I said, anger boiling, doing
what I could to keep the tears from my eyes. ‘Thanks for nothing.’
I headed for the exit with Gen at my heels, stomping my feet as I went.
The wizard stopped me mid-march. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something, Nightstalker?’ When I turned back, I saw he was holding the phial of Pope blood between a meaty forefinger and thumb. ‘You’re going to need this if you want to cure your boyfriend.’
I couldn’t tell whether he was toying with me. ‘Seriously?’
‘Consider it yours.’
I took the phial from L’Merrier, half-convinced that he was going to snatch it away at the last second and do to me what he’d done to his statue. ‘Thank you,’ I said, meaning it.
‘It is but a keepsake to one such as I. Do with the blood as you wish, but leave my shop knowing that this is the last favour I will ever grant you.’
‘Okay,’ I said, nodding like a dashboard toy. ‘Fair enough then.’
I made to leave, but once again, L’Merrier called me back. ‘There is of course one last matter to attend to.’
‘What’s that?’
He rung up a sale on the cash register. ‘That will be £14.99. Would you like your receipt in the bag?’
14
I left L'Merrier's Antiques fifteen quid lighter but riding high.
‘Well, that was easy enough,’ I said, humming a jaunty tune and twirling the phial in my fingertips.
Walking beside me, Gendith winced as she popped her shoulder back into its socket. ‘Oh yes. Easy peasy.’
‘All we need now is a wizard to perform the ceremony who’s more willing than baldy back there, and bingo-bango, we’re off to the races.’
I’m not sure why I’d started talking like that exactly. I put it down the leftover adrenaline. The same adrenaline making me toss the phial around like I was cockily bouncing a set of Porsche keys on my palm. Of course it was a mistake. A big one. I was barely a hundred yards from the shop, strolling along without a care in the world, when the phial left my hand and failed to touch down again.
A black glove flashed into my periphery, accompanied by the ning ning ning of a two stroke engine. Before I could wrap my head around what was happening, the phial was being borne away by a leather-jacketed thief sat astride a sleek Japanese motorcycle.
Turned Page 8
