All Rotting Meat

by Maleham , Eve

  She followed the mass of people towards the front of the station to a jostling queue for taxis, and gave the driver the address of her hotel in completely unaccented French. The taxi drew up in front of the hotel, and her nerves prickled at the five-star sign on the door. Mitch had arranged the hotel and paid for her train fare. Slightly conscious of how her boots were worn and slightly scuffed, she paid the driver, and stepped out to the foyer. Her skin bristled as she walked through to check in. The hotel was the sort of place her own mother would have loved, and, for a second, Leah felt a sharp squeeze on her shoulder.

  ‘Oh, isn’t it just so modern?!’

  Leah shrugged off the phantom voice, and moved forwards to check in.

  * * *

  She had a few hours to kill before she had to set off for the audience. To occupy her mind until then, she sat on the bed in her room, pulled her laptop out from her bag, and began to work. The corrupted mess that Banes had retrieved for them was next to impossible to work with. If she wanted to do it properly, then she would need a large team of people, and equipment she couldn’t buy publicly. Working on them was taking an excruciating length of time to do; she was working on one line of code after the other, and was pushing all of her other work to the side.

  It was dusk by the time she stepped outside into a waiting taxi, and read the address in her semi-fluent, but awkward, unpronounced French. She sank back in her seat, the bag containing the folder of a copy of every scrap of information they found about Rebirth across her lap, along with a copy of the corrupted content Banes had given them on a memory stick. She stared out of the window, inhaling the worn smell of cigarettes, car freshener, old fabric, and the faint, lingering scents of hundreds of people.

  It was approaching nightfall as the taxi drove through the congested streets; the wind strengthened as people pulled their jackets closer around them, and their hair was tousled as thick drops of rain began to fall, the golden lights from the buildings washing onto the streets.

  The entrance of the Shield of Scarlet was in the centre of Paris, just beyond the Louvre. As the taxi made its way down the side of the Seine, she caught a glimpse of the bell towers of Notre-Dame. The buildings around her had elegance to them that London seemed to lack; by comparison, everything there was heavy and disjointed, with buildings messily thrown up on top of each other to create a mass of architectural clutter, whereas here, the streets seemed to flow effortlessly together.

  ‘Is this where you want to be?’ the driver asked, pulling into a small side street. Leah nodded.

  ‘Please.’

  She handed him the fare, and stepped out onto the street, the rain dampening her hair. She was standing in front of a large, wooden door; the wood was dark and old, with an iron handle. It was the sort of door which anyone walking past would pay barely any notice to, with the assumption that it had been put there centuries ago, and clearly belonged to someone.

  Not sure of quite what to do, she knocked, and then pushed it open. Inside, there was a wooden panelled corridor and a stone floor. She walked forward to a staircase leading down, which she followed until she came to another corridor. The air smelled of beeswax polish. Before long, the hallway widened out into a room where a woman sat behind a desk. There were a few chairs to the side of the room, opposite a large set of wooden doors; Leah could see the emblem of a shield with a rose on it carved into them.

  ‘Um… bonjour,’ Leah said. The receptionist looked up and smiled at her.

  ‘Hello, Ms Redman,’ she said. ‘Just on time. You may go through, now.’ She nodded to the doors.

  ‘Okay,’ Leah said, ‘thanks.’

  She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting; not the mismatch of uniform corridors and carved out passageways Banes had described to Khalida, but perhaps something more together. Her imagination had veered between elegant rooms and crypts, not a large room made of the same greyish-white stone as the hallway outside, with a low, arched ceiling.

  There were old-fashioned torches along the walls, which were unlit, and the soft, dim light in the room came from a chandelier. There was a large, Persian rug spread over the floor, clusters of ornate furniture were scattered around, and a large fireplace stood at the opposite end of the room. Leah felt like she had stepped into an opulent vintage-style hotel lobby.

  ‘Ah, Ms Redman,’ a voice said, drawing her attention to a slender, young man, as he walked into the room. His accent was American. ‘So glad to finally have a chance to meet you, and may I sincerely welcome you to the Shield of Scarlet. I am Ciqala Black, Cleo Loi-Sanglant’s personal assistant.’

  He was wearing a dark, crisp suit and carried a briefcase. His thick, black hair was tied back in a heavy plait and framed the sharp features of his face; high cheekbones, a pointed jawline, and a headpiece in his ear. His build was slender and elfin; he stood a few inches shorter than her. He walked with a confident manner. His narrow, black eyes were shining and alert, his coppery, brown skin glowing.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Leah said.

  ‘Please, take a seat,’ he said, gesturing to a nearby set of squashy looking sofas. ‘Ms Cleo will be with us shortly; would you care for a drink while you wait? I know how the British like their tea, but we also have a selection of coffees and juices to choose from, or blood, if you so choose,’ he said.

  ‘Tea, please, would be just fine. Standard, British, breakfast tea.’

  ‘Milk and sugar?’

  She nodded. ‘Milk, three sugars.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. He said a few words in French into the headpiece.

  ‘So do many dhampirs come here then?’ she asked.

  Black shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. In fact, I rarely come across them.’

  ‘Oh,’ Leah said. ‘Yeah, my dad tried to introduce me to a few others he knew of. It was kind of awkward, meeting a bunch of people you had nothing in common with, except that one of your parents was a vampire.’

  ‘Your father was Samuel Redman, correct?’ Black said.

  ‘You knew him?’ Leah asked.

  Black shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not, but we looked into his history as part of your background check. He was a very peculiar vampire, no doubt.’

  ‘How come?’

  Black smiled. ‘Vampire-human relationships spanning numerous years are unusual, but not unheard of,’ he said. ‘What is peculiar, is for the vampire to kill themselves when their human partner dies. I can count on my hands the recorded cases I have heard of where that happened.’

  Leah frowned. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that it would be so rare.’

  ‘It’s a rather extreme act,’ Black said, ‘even in humans.’

  ‘I just kinda of thought it was more common than it was,’ she said.

  A young woman stepped into the room carrying a silver tray.

  ‘Ah, perfect, Sophia – over here, please,’ Black said, gesturing to the table. ‘Tea, as requested.’

  Leah peered at the tray as Sophia set it down; there was a small, beautifully painted china tea set, as well as a platter full of many intricate small cakes and biscuits. With a jolt, Leah was taken back to an afternoon where she had treated her then elderly mother and her father, who looked more akin to be her brother, to afternoon tea at the Ritz. It had been her mother’s last birthday, and one of her few glimpses of luxury. As a child, Leah remembered her parents’ delight when they were rehoused into a brand-new council tower house that had indoor plumbing and hot taps. For her mother, true indulgence and extravagance had been something that existed for people totally alien to her; in the meantime, she had food to put on the table.

  ‘Please, help yourself,’ Black said, gesturing to the tray.

  ‘You guys are friendly, aren’t you?’ Leah said, as she poured herself a cup of tea.

  Black smiled. ‘There’s often no need to be rude, and business itself is oftentimes such a dull matter that we strive to lighten it when we can. Is this the first vampire establishment you’ve encountered?’
/>   ‘Well, actually, that’s what I came here to talk about.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, yes, we’ve heard rumours of Feigrey’s antics, I mean, with a vampire institute we have accredited.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, this is the first.’

  His smile broadened. ‘Yes? A good first impression, then?’

  ‘Yes. It’s a lot cosier than I had expected it to be,’ she said, looking around the room and taking a sip of tea. She preferred mugs over such a dainty cup; it felt that it could crack in her hands.

  He laughed. ‘Well, there’s no reason why we can’t enjoy our creature comforts, too. Is the tea to your liking?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s alright,’ she said. ‘How long have you been here, then?’

  ‘I’ve been working for the Shield of Scarlet for just over ten years now,’ he said.

  ‘Where were you before that?’ she asked. ‘I mean, your accent.’

  ‘Well, I was born in America, then met my partner in San Antonio; he had connections in Europe, we moved here, and we both began to work for the Shield of Scarlet.’

  ‘Is it a good job?’ she said, taking another sip of tea.

  Black’s eyes sparkled. ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Are you looking for a change of occupation?’

  Leah shook her head. ‘Nah, not really.’

  ‘I imagine that the work of a private investigator can be quite exciting,’ Black said.

  Leah shrugged. ‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘though most of my work is over trivial matters; infidelity, insurance claims, stuff like that.’

  ‘Is that why you turned your career to hunting vampires?’ Black asked, smiling. ‘Don’t worry; what you do on the British Isles is none of our concern.’

  ‘In a way,’ Leah said. ‘When I was approached, it seemed like an interesting job.’

  ‘And did they seek you about specifically because you are a dhampir?’ Black said.

  Leah grinned. ‘I think I was the only person who was seriously interested because of it. Others backed down when they realised they’d be accomplices in murder.’

  ‘It’s not unheard of for dhampirs to become hunters,’ Black said. ‘Is it out of a sense of justice, or for pleasure?’

  ‘I guess, both,’ Leah said. ‘No-one else does it, sometimes it can be really challenging, and I like being able to push myself. And, it’s taking a murderer out of the world and that’s only a good thing, isn’t it?’

  ‘And that doesn’t bother you?’ Black asked. ‘Please tell me if I’m too intrusive, but I am curious.’

  Leah shook her head. ‘It doesn’t bother me; good vampires don’t come up on our radar, and the bad ones are interesting people to find.’

  ‘And you don’t actually take part in the hunts, you just gather the necessary information,’ Black said.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I’m assuming that you don’t drink blood either.’

  ‘I don’t,’ she said. ‘Tried it a few times, had a boyfriend who was into that sort of thing. It was really weird; it tasted like blood, you know, kind of gross, but I could just keep drinking it. Wasn’t a pleasant experience.’

  ‘Strange,’ Black said. ‘I had heard that drinking blood makes dhampirs stronger.’

  Leah nodded. ‘I did feel a bit better over the next day or so,’ she said, ‘but it wasn’t worth it.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Black said. ‘And, you will be relieved to know that you will not be pressured into small talk for any longer.’

  Leah heard a door at the far end of the room being opened, and turned to look up as a woman stepped through into the room. She had a slight, petite frame; her movements were so graceful and fluid that as she walked, she appeared to be on the cusp of dancing. Her skin was dark brown and utterly flawless, with a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks on either side of her flat nose. Her black eyes were doe-like and framed with thick lashes. Her clothes were girlish to a high degree; a pinafore of pastel blue and white gingham, over a cream dress with a ruffled petticoat, which fell a few inches above her knees, and high, white socks that reached up her slender legs. She wore dainty shoes of the same light blue as her dress, as well as the matching coloured ribbons she had tied in her dark, curly hair, which brushed her shoulders and framed her heart-shaped face. Leah recognised the Lolita design, which gave Cleo the appearance of being a beautiful, exquisite doll.

  ‘May I present Ms Cleo Loi-Sanglant,’ Black said, rising to his feet. ‘Ms Cleo – Ms Leah Redman.’

  ‘An absolute pleasure,’ Cleo said, her musical voice lightly accented. She kissed Leah swiftly on both cheeks before falling into her seat. She smelled of flowery perfume and cinnamon. ‘I hope I haven’t been keeping you waiting for too long.’

  ‘Not long at all,’ Leah said, as Black muttered something into the headpiece.

  ‘I hope you had a pleasant journey to Paris,’ Cleo said.

  ‘Yeah, it was alright,’ Leah said. ‘I was surprised by how quickly you granted me an audience.’

  ‘I am interested in what you have to say,’ Cleo said nonchalantly. ‘It is my understanding that you have a spy in Rebirth working for you.’

  Leah nodded. ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Impressive,’ Cleo said, as Sophia entered the room again and sat a cup of hot chocolate on the table. ‘We have been watching Rebirth for a while now, and I’m curious to know what you found out.’

  ‘What do you already know?’ Leah asked.

  ‘We know where their headquarters are, who their leaders are, and that Rebirth’s primary aim is to install a vampiric seat of power within Britain by corrupting and conquering your current human government,’ Cleo said, taking a sip of hot chocolate. ‘We know that they have already infiltrated the government and other British establishments, and that they have powerful financiers and backers overseas, particularly in America.’

  Leah took a drink of her tea. She knew that Cleo would be holding back.

  ‘Do you know any details?’

  ‘Some,’ Cleo said, ‘and you claim that you have important information; I would like to hear it.’

  Leah brought her bag up onto her lap and pulled out a binder, containing the detailed report file that Poppy had made, along with a hard drive which contained a copy of the broken codes.

  ‘Here,’ she said, ‘this is everything we have. The hard drive has a copy of files we managed to take from Rebirth’s computers, but the program was interrupted before it could finish, and half the files corrupted. I tried restoring them, but I’m not sure that I can – I don’t know, maybe you guys could give it a try. But we have their financial records.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Cleo said, taking the binder and opening it, her brow furrowing as she read. ‘This will be a great help to us.’

  ‘They have a training camp in Scotland,’ Leah said. ‘It’s massive. Rebirth also have armoured vehicles and water cannons which are kept there, too.’

  ‘It seems that they are more advanced than we had anticipated,’ Cleo said, turning over the page to the sketches Khalida had made Banes draw of the training base, her face fading back into its carefree, doll look. Black nodded absently in agreement, his eyes still on the page.

  ‘They’re trying to get the Blood Thieves’ backing,’ Leah went on. ‘At least, that’s what Cecilia Marr wants. Her brother, Clarence, has been working as an envoy on Rebirth’s behalf. Rebirth anticipate that you will disapprove of them…’

  ‘Naturally,’ Cleo cut in. ‘The safest option for our kind is to remain hidden from humans, and keep our world and the human world separated wherever possible. Every single clan or society of vampires understands this; for Rebirth to announce our existence to the world would put every single vampire in peril. Please, go on.’

  ‘But,’ Leah said, ‘Tycho Feigrey doesn’t want the Blood Thieves’ involvement with Rebirth.’

  Cleo’s lips curled into a smirk, as she picked up a tiny fruit tart and placed it on a china plate.

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’
>
  ‘Are you familiar with the Blood Thieves, Ms Redman?’ Black asked.

  ‘I know of them,’ Leah said.

  ‘Then, you will understand why we do not want them anywhere near our territory,’ Black said, ‘and why we are grateful for the nine-thousand kilometres separating us.’

  ‘You’re not a fan of them, then?’ Leah asked.

  ‘Yin Luan and I have professional disagreements,’ Cleo said, taking a dainty nibble of her tart. ‘The Blood Thieves and the Shield of Scarlet share a common ideal; that humanity should not know of our existence. However, Yin Luan is still relatively young as a vampire – at least, compared to me, or even Tycho Feigrey. He only became the leader of the Blood Thieves in the Nineteen-Nineties, and he has always been intensely focused on modernity. I feel that his attitudes towards the direction the Blood Thieves may be shifting.’

  ‘Are you saying that they might support Rebirth?’ Leah asked.

  ‘They might,’ Cleo said. ‘I knew Luan’s predecessor, Fan Xixue, quite well, but Luan is a much more different character to grasp.’

  ‘So,’ Leah said, ‘what are you going to do?’

  Cleo smiled, her black eyes sparkling. ‘You want me to get rid of Rebirth for you, don’t you?’

  Leah took a drink of tea. ‘Of course I do; I don’t want my country to fall into a vampire regime. We’re trying to stop Rebirth ourselves, but they’re way more powerful than we are.’

  ‘As you know,’ Cleo said, ‘the Shield of Scarlet do not operate within the British Isles, and we have no power there. To exert our authority over Britain now would be tricky, and we would likely be met with hostility. We have not had a chance yet to properly analyse this information, since you have just handed it to me, but we can assume that our presence in Britain now would, for Rebirth, count as nothing less than an invasion, and I do not want to start a war.’