Location, Location, Damnation

by Nick Moseley

  'He wasn't trying to kill himself?'

  'I doubt it.'

  'But if I hadn't stopped Harvington when I did, he'd have stabbed Kolley to death.'

  'Would he?'

  Trev frowned. He remembered the interview with Kolley in his office; what had he said? I've had some self-defence training, you see… I would've been able to deal with the man had he reached me.

  Trev snapped his fingers. 'It was a set-up,' he said. 'The attacker was supposed to get to Kolley but be disarmed by him, and bang – instant hero, instant publicity. I threw a spanner in the works by getting involved, didn’t I? No wonder he looked so shocked.'

  Corbyn shrugged. 'That it for the questions?' he asked.

  'No,' said Trev. 'Did Kolley hire you to bring him three other people? An old woman, some scally kid and a tramp?'

  'Yes,' sighed Corbyn.

  'What was that all about then?'

  'No idea. He paid me to bring him some people that wouldn't be missed. I didn't ask him what he wanted them for.'

  'You're not over-burdened with morals, are you?'

  'And you're not over-burdened with intelligence, good looks or charisma, but I've not mentioned it, have I? I swore a blood oath to answer your questions, not to have to listen to your sanctimonious crap.'

  'Touchy, aren't we? Anyone'd think you'd just had your arse kicked or something.'

  Corbyn glowered at him. 'Funny. So funny, I'll be sure to remember it. Might remind you of it one day.'

  Trev swallowed. 'All right, next question. How does someone like Alastair Kolley manage to summon and control a demon?'

  Corbyn laughed. 'Kolley? No chance.'

  'Well he did it, didn't he?'

  'What?'

  Trev frowned. 'You didn't know about the demon?'

  'Kolley summon a demon? Are you serious? That bloke couldn't summon up a fart after a plateful of baked beans.'

  'I am serious. Both Harvington and those three weirdoes that attacked me at the Colonel's were under the control of a demon.'

  'I find that hard to believe,' said Corbyn, shaking his head. 'I mean, I know Kolley's old man was a dabbler in the occult, but summoning demons isn't something you just “have a go at” to while away a rainy afternoon. It's hardcore stuff.'

  'Kolley senior was into the occult?'

  'Oh yes. Like I said, though, it was just dabbling, a hobby. Word had it he was getting into the heavier end of the spectrum when he died.'

  'You think his death had anything to do with his "hobby"?'

  Corbyn shrugged. 'Hard to say. There were rumours at the time, I suppose because his death was very sudden and the details were vague. "An accident" was what they reported in the papers.'

  Trev's expression turned thoughtful. 'Maybe Alastair is following in his dad's footsteps.'

  'If he is, he's got help. I told you, he couldn't have done it on his own. No chance.'

  'Who could be helping him?'

  'No idea. They'd have to be powerful, though. Very powerful, actually.'

  'Not very reassuring.' Trev felt his shoulders slump. 'I suppose that means I can expect more groups of possessed people trying to kill me.'

  'Don't flatter yourself.' Corbyn gave Trev a contemptuous look.

  'What do you mean by that?'

  'Well, where did you say you were when those three "weirdoes" turned up?'

  'The Colonel's. Fritley Court.'

  'And you think they were there to kill you? Instead of, for example, one of the most influential and notorious vampires in the country?'

  'Bloody hell,' said Trev, suddenly feeling a bit thick. 'Fair point. But why would Kolley want to kill the Colonel?'

  'Maybe Kolley doesn't. Maybe it's his mysterious helper or helpers. I do know that the Colonel was behind the construction company that built these apartments, which Kolley campaigned against.'

  'Is that enough to kill someone for?'

  Corbyn snorted. 'Depends how sane you are.'

  'Would you have to be pretty nuts to summon a demon to do your dirty work?'

  'I think you know the answer to that one already.' Corbyn hauled himself to his feet, still cradling his hand. 'We done?'

  'No,' snapped Trev. 'We're done when I leave, remember?'

  Corbyn managed a sneer. 'In the words of Jack Nicholson, "what do you want to talk about now? My favourite colour?"'

  'Demons,' said Trev, taking care to keep the vampire under close watch now he was on his feet. 'How do you kill or banish one?'

  This prompted a long exhalation and an eye-roll from Corbyn. 'Now you're taking the piss. How or why would I know that, for God's sake? I've never even seen a demon.' He thought for a moment. 'Just as well, because if I had, I'd probably be dead.'

  'No ideas at all?'

  'None. It's not a common problem, trust me on that.'

  Trev acknowledged the point with a gesture. 'Right, fair enough.'

  'Is that it? This is getting painful.'

  'Your hand?'

  'That too.'

  From behind Trev came a low growl. 'Ah,' he said. 'Oh yeah. Last year a werewolf called Vicki went missing from this town. Do you know anything about that?'

  'Is your doggie under control?' asked Corbyn. 'Remember you agreed to give me safe conduct. A blood oath is binding on both parties, you know.'

  The werewolf growled again at the word "doggie", and Trev made a placating face at her. 'Don't worry about my friend here,' he said. 'Just answer the question.'

  Corbyn sighed again. 'Yes, I took her,' he admitted.

  'What did you do with her?' Trev enquired. He sheathed Tyrfing and put a restraining hand on the werewolf's neck. He was worried that she might attack Corbyn and break the agreement; he didn't know what the penalty for breaking a blood oath was, but he suspected it was rather more than a slap on the wrist.

  'Sold her,' said Corbyn bluntly.

  'Who to?'

  The vampire scowled. 'What does it matter to you? What's done is done. You ought to concentrate on Kolley and his demon.'

  'Just answer,' replied Trev, trying to keep an eye on both Corbyn and the werewolf.

  'I sold her to a man called Seth Lysander.'

  With his hand on his companion's neck, Trev both heard and felt the growling start up again. 'You've heard of this bloke?' The werewolf dipped her head sharply. 'Who is he?' he asked Corbyn.

  'A businessman, scientist and collector,' said the vampire. 'If it's any consolation, the girl is almost certainly still alive. I got the impression Lysander wanted her for his zoo rather than his lab.'

  'His zoo?'

  'Yes. He collects… unusual specimens.' Corbyn did his best to look apologetic. 'I wouldn't think about trying to rescue her, though. Lysander's got the kind of security the Colonel has mucky dreams about.'

  'Well it's not like I need any new enemies at the moment,' said Trev. 'I seem to be gathering them without really trying.'

  'It's your winning personality,' said Corbyn, deadpan. 'Are you going now, or what?'

  'I suppose we are.' Trev looked down at the werewolf. She was staring at Corbyn, still growling. 'Hey,' he said quietly. 'We got what we came for. Time to go.'

  She held her gaze on the vampire for another few seconds, then turned her eyes to Trev and nodded. As they moved away from Corbyn she let off a sudden loud bark at him. Trev couldn't restrain a smile as the vampire flinched back against the van.

  Back outside, Trev holstered Caladbolg and slumped back against the wall. He blew out his cheeks.

  'Blimey,' he said. 'I'm not sure I can take much more of this.' The werewolf barked softly and tilted its head back toward the main road. Trev groaned. 'Yeah, yeah.'

  He dragged himself off the wall and followed her as she crossed the road and disappeared into the trees, noticing that she was limping. Crashing into the Volvo had obviously hurt her. She saved my life, he reflected. First Agatha throws herself between me and the baddies, and now Miss Pine. Obviously I'm not as good at this action hero stuff as I coul
d be. What if there's nobody there to help me next time?

  He tried to dismiss the thought and instead pondered what he'd learned from Corbyn. They'd been on the wrong track all along, it seemed; Kolley wasn't a potential victim, he was a potential executioner. Trev shook his head. He'd sat in the bloke's office with Granddad and neither of them had had any idea of the truth. The possessed pigeon Agatha had spotted must have been there watching them, not Kolley.

  What now, though? Did they go after Kolley in the knowledge that he not only had a demon on his side, but also a powerful, unknown ally to boot? Considering the amount of energy he'd expended in the fight against Corbyn, Trev didn't feel as if he was up to it. The hollow feeling he'd felt the previous night was back with a vengeance, gnawing away at the pit of his stomach. Revelations or no revelations, he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.

  When he arrived opposite the spot where Miss Pine had left her bag in the trees he stopped walking and waited, leaning against a lamp-post. Five minutes later she emerged from the trees, fidgeting with her clothing and limping heavily.

  'Always feels odd putting clothes on again afterwards,' she complained. 'Constricting.'

  Trev nodded toward her leg. 'Are you all right?'

  'Just a bit of a dead leg, I think. It affects you more when you switch back from four legs to two.'

  'Thanks for pitching in there when you did,' said Trev, looking sheepish. 'That nullblade was lethal.'

  'You're welcome,' said Miss Pine briskly. 'God knows where he got that thing from, they're not exactly common. Come to think of it, I bet he got it from his friend Lysander.'

  'Maybe,' said Trev. 'Thanks for not mauling him while I was questioning him, as well. I thought for a moment you were going to go for him.'

  'Nothing would've given me more pleasure than tearing that smug sod's throat out, believe you me,' said Miss Pine, showing her teeth. 'But I didn't, because you'd sworn him safe conduct. I know what happens to people who make blood oaths with vampires and break them.'

  'Um. What happens?'

  'Never mind. It'd just upset you.'

  'OK then,' said Trev, frowning. He decided to change the subject. 'So, are you going after him? Lysander?'

  Miss Pine gave a short, bitter laugh. 'You might as well just chop my head off with one of your trick swords right now. Seth Lysander's untouchable.' She shook her head. 'I feel sick about it though. I can't stand the thought of leaving Vicki with that bastard.'

  Trev shuffled uncomfortably. 'Look, er, I owe you one. If I can help you in any way…'

  Miss Pine gave him a very intense look. 'I actually think you're serious.' She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. 'Thank you, Trev, but I've got a lot to think about. I can't help Vicki by getting killed by Lysander's thugs.'

  'True,' said Trev, secretly relieved.

  'What about you? Are you going after Kolley?'

  'Honest answer? I don't know.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'Someone needs to stop him, I suppose, but I'm not falling over myself to volunteer. That scrap with Corbyn and his nullblade has wiped me out.'

  'Can't you top yourself up? You guys draw your energy from your surroundings, don't you?'

  'Well yeah, but it's kind of a passive thing. A night's sleep and I'll be all right again.'

  'Oh, I see. I always assumed you could just slurp some more up as and when you needed it.'

  Trev shrugged. 'Not as far as I know. I might give it a try, though. It'd be nice to not feel like crap.'

  'Well, good luck.' Miss Pine gave Trev a nod and turned to walk away.

  'Wait a sec,' said Trev. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the town centre. 'I'm going to go and fetch my car. If you wait here for me I'll come and pick you up, give you a lift home. Least I can do. It's my fault you hurt yourself.'

  'Thanks for the offer, but I can manage. You get going.'

  'I can call you a taxi, if you like?'

  'Trev. I said I can manage.' Miss Pine's tone left no room for argument. 'At the moment I just want some time to myself to think. I heal pretty quickly, so I'll walk this limp off.'

  'Hey, I wasn't trying to be patronising or anything,' said Trev, holding up his hands.

  'I know.'

  Trev decided to give up his attempts at chivalry. It wasn't as if it came naturally to him, in any case. 'Right, well, I'll be off then. Thanks again for your help.'

  'That's all right. Thanks for finding out about Vicki.'

  'No probs.' Trev tugged at an earlobe. 'Do you think Corbyn will… come after you?'

  'If he does, I'll be expecting you to help me out. You'd better turn up when I call.'

  Trev nodded. 'Least I can do.'

  'Good. Well, see you.'

  They parted and headed in opposite directions, Trev toward the town centre and Miss Pine toward the suburbs.

  'I'd better check in,' Trev muttered to himself. He reached for his phone and then stopped. If he called Granddad and told him what he'd found out, the old boy was going to want to go and confront Kolley. Trev took an inventory of his supply of enthusiasm, with depressing results. He could barely motivate himself enough to walk back to his car. Taking on the forces of evil would just have to wait until he'd had some kip.

  He ambled to a halt and leaned his back against a tree. "Just slurp some more energy up", Miss Pine had suggested. 'Easy for her to say,' grumbled Trev. Mind you, he thought, just because Granddad and his smart-arse cat haven't told me it can be done, doesn't mean it can't be done. If he was absorbing energy without trying anyway, why couldn't he speed things along a bit? After all, he breathed without thinking about it, but he could still hyperventilate or hold his breath if he wanted to.

  He relaxed against the tree and concentrated. Feeling the flow of energy through his own body was something he was used to doing by now, and he tuned into its weakened pulse without any real effort. Redirecting his focus from internal to external was more difficult. After a few minutes he was ready to give up, but then his senses caught a waft of the same sort of energy floating in the air, somewhere away to his right.

  Now knowing what he was looking for, he stretched out again and was surprised to find wisps of energy scattered around him in all directions. Few of them were as strong as the one he'd felt first, but they were definitely there. Moreover, they appeared to be drawn to him; although they moved slowly, lazily, they were definitely drifting in his direction. As his senses brushed against them they resonated with the dregs of power left in his body, giving him a succession of tiny shocks. The sensation was pleasantly stimulating.

  It wasn't long, though, before Trev became aware of a second type of energy moving around him. While what he had quickly come to think of as the "good stuff" hung peacefully in the air, the other type crackled and fizzed about in random, jerky streaks of movement. It made Trev uneasy.

  Experimentally he reached out to one of the flashes as it juddered past him. It danced away from him as if repelled. Trev snatched at it and got an immediate blast of psychic feedback through his entire system for his trouble. He hastily withdrew. Just as Agatha and Granddad had described, it seemed that both positively and negatively-charged energy was everywhere. In places the two varieties had merged, creating unstable sparking clouds that were simultaneously both types and neither.

  Trev selected the largest mass of positively-charged energy he could sense and focused on it, trying to pull it towards him. The cloud stopped, wobbled, then Trev felt it streak across the space between them and slam into him. The effect was startling; the hollow sensation vanished, replaced by a rush of euphoria. Trev slumped back against the tree, giggling.

  A police car swept to a halt alongside him. The officer in the passenger seat wound down his window and regarded Trev warily.

  'You all right, mate?' he asked.

  'Never better,' replied Trev with a manic smile. 'Never better.'

  Forty-One

  After convincing the policemen that he wasn't drunk or high, Trev set off toward the town ce
ntre again. He felt fantastic, the sudden influx of energy into his body having obliterated his tiredness, aches and pains, and most of his miserable, defeatist thoughts as well. Had Kolley's demon walked up to him at that point, Trev would cheerfully have tried to tweak its nose and give it a wedgie.

  He rummaged for his phone and dialled Granddad as he walked. The call was answered before even the first ring had finished.

  'Trevor?'

  'Who else?'

  Granddad sounded relieved. 'Of course, of course. What happened? Did you get Corbyn to tell you anything?'

  'He wasn't very helpful to start with,' explained Trev. 'Came after me with something called a nullblade.'

  'Good lord.' Granddad paused. 'He really used a nullblade? He could get into all sorts of trouble just for owning one of those. The Custodians put a ban on them years ago. Too many people had… accidents with them.'

  'I think I broke Corbyn's,' said Trev. 'It took a couple of his fingers off when he lost control of it.'

  'He was lucky it wasn't his whole arm, or worse,' replied Granddad darkly. 'There are a lot of nasty stories about nullblades. The incident that caused the Custodians to ban them killed two people, and all that was left of them at the scene was an ear and half a buttock.'

  Trev broke into another fit of the giggles. 'So you could say that nullblades are a real pain in the arse, then?'

  'It's not funny, Trevor,' Granddad reproached him. 'People died. What on earth's wrong with you? You sound like you're drunk or something.'

  'Me? I'm fine, sober as a judge. One hundred percent.' Trev made an effort to get control of himself. 'Right, want to know who summoned the demon?'

  'Yes, of course,' said Granddad eagerly.

  'It was Alastair Kolley.'

  There was a long moment of silence before Granddad replied. 'Kolley?'

  'I didn't believe it either, at first,' said Trev, chuckling inwardly at the old man's confusion. 'Corbyn swore a blood oath, though, so he was telling the truth.'

  'But Harvington tried to kill Kolley, Trevor.'

  'The whole assassination attempt was an act,' Trev explained. 'The plan was for Kolley to fight off his attacker, make himself a hero and get himself all over the newspapers, TV and internet. All the publicity he could want.'