by Helen Harper
‘What’s this about?’ O’Shea asks.
I shake my head. ‘I don’t have a clue. Not yet anyway.’
When the camera turns to Vince Hale, rising out of the back benches with his shiny suit and an obvious statement to make, I feel the first flicker of dread. As soon as he starts to speak, Kimchi comes careening out of the kitchen where he was gnawing on goodness knows what. He growls at the screen. Maria jumps about a mile and cowers behind a cushion. The rest of us watch in stony silence.
O’Shea frowns. ‘I know his face.’
‘He’s anti-vampire,’ Michael explains.
‘But potentially pro-Medici,’ I add.
O’Shea’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. ‘Really?’
‘Hush.’
‘As the Right Honourable Ladies and Gentlemen are no doubt aware,’ Hale begins, ‘recent vampire activities are a particular cause for concern.’
There’s a rumble of agreement from the assembled politicians. Honestly, they sound more like a playground rabble than this country’s democratically elected representatives.
‘I wish to propose a new bill ensuring that vampire numbers are capped. For the good of this country, we cannot permit the five Families to continue to besmirch the name and reputation of the good people of the United Kingdom. Although I hesitate to use the word, the bloodguzzlers’ activities are unhealthy. The members of my constituency are demanding that action is taken and, frankly, I agree.’
The Speaker of the House, a sleek whippet of a man, peers over his half-moon spectacles. ‘Are you suggesting that we revoke the binding law of 1532 and remove the vampires’ current legal status?’
‘Legal status?’ Hale scoffs. ‘They have no legal status. They act with absolute impunity. The law provides absolute immunity and we have only their word that they act to punish offenders.’
Parliament rises up again with a growing chorus of ‘hear, hear’. All of us lean forward. Even Maria pays attention, forgetting her fear that Kimchi will slobber on her.
‘Maybe he’s not as keen on Medici after all.’
I shake my head. Something else is going on here.
Enjoying his audience, Hale waits for the hubbub to die down before speaking again. ‘However,’ he booms, ‘that is not something I wish to address. In recent days we have seen that the Medici Family is at least prepared to prove their mettle and address their inadequacies.’
Inadequacies? Is that what he’s calling those three bloodguzzlers who Medici executed? I gape in disbelief.
‘No,’ Hale remarks in the grand-orator fashion of someone who knows this moment will be played out across television screens for days, months and years to come. ‘What I propose is that we return the cap on their numbers. There is no good reason why they are recruiting and we should put an immediate halt to it.’
‘Hear, hear!’
‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’ O’Shea asks by my side.
I bite my lip. ‘Wait.’ Somehow I don’t think Hale is finished.
‘And we should demand a return to the original numbers of five hundred vampires per Family,’ he says. ‘No more and no less.’
I clench my jaw. ‘There it is.’
O’Shea scratches his head. ‘That doesn’t make any sense. Is he proposing what I think he’s proposing?’
As if he were in the same room with us, Hale answers O’Shea’s question. ‘Let’s face it, anyone who has willingly signed up with the Families has already proved that they are prepared to take their life in their hands. Forty-two per cent of all new recruits do not even survive the turn.’ I blow air out in a silent whistle. He’s made that statistic up; not even close to that many die before making the turn. ‘Their very nature means they are already diseased. Let us not forget that vampires originate from a blood infection! Any vampire who was turned after each Family reached a population of five hundred should be put out of their misery and put down.’
The room erupts. I turn to Michael, who is standing rigid. The only sign that he’s heard Vince Hale’s words is the bitter cold emanating from his eyes. I shiver involuntarily. Hale is a braver man than he realises; I wouldn’t want to go against that many vampires.
‘What he’s proposing is genocide. No one will let that pass.’
Michael takes a long time before answering. When he does speak, his tone is stiff and awkward. ‘Public opinion will be with him.’
‘The protests have died down,’ I begin.
‘You know how people feel, Bo. We’ve still not done enough to reverse the damage that Nicky caused.’
I pinch the bridge of my nose. What a fuck up – but it doesn’t mean that a bill of this sort would ever be passed. There’s no chance. Besides, it takes ages to enact laws. I’ve listened to my grandfather complain about that on many an occasion.
‘He’s just grandstanding,’ I insist. ‘It’s tied into this group I’ve been investigating. Tov V’ra. I think they’ve absorbed most of the protestors into their ranks.’ I think of Molly, the young seductress I met today, and shudder. ‘They’re a distasteful bunch. No one will take this seriously.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘I am.’ I’m insistent. To imagine this kind of thing could ever go ahead is insane.
Michael’s phone beeps. He pulls it out and answers it. ‘If you’re calling about that prick in Parliament then I already know.’ He pauses then momentarily explodes. ‘Fucking hell!’
I take a step backward. I’ve never seen Michael react like that. He grabs the remote control and tries to change the channel. Instead of the familiar sight of Westminster, we’re faced with what appears to be a yellow animated square with a cheesy grin.
‘Damn it! Where’s the news?’
Maria edges over and takes it from him, finding the right channel with quick fingers. Suddenly I feel very old. I’m about to thank her when I see who is now on the screen. Medici. Again.
‘I’ve been watching the events in Parliament today,’ he says. ‘Despite my earlier words, I fully agree with Vincent Hale’s sentiments. Vampire numbers are out of control and I am prepared to accede to his demands. The Medici Family will return to the capped population of five hundred. It will be a painful experience for all, but one we are prepared to undertake for the good of the country.’
‘No,’ I whisper. ‘He can’t do this. He’s the one who started increasing the population in the first place!’ Not to mention that he was trying to pass himself off as a hero for ‘saving’ all those poor humans from themselves.
‘He’s a frozen-hearted bastard,’ Michael says. ‘He can do it and he will. He also knows that the rest of us will refuse to follow suit. We’ll be weakened and he will come out on top. It’s as if he’s planned this from the start.’
I can’t help feeling that Michael is right. Medici is too calculating for this to be some spur of the moment decision. ‘It’s murder.’ I ignore the looks I receive from both O’Shea and Michael. What I do is far less cold-blooded than what Medici is proposing. I grit my teeth. ‘It’s also too pat. Not just in the planning.’
‘What do you mean?’
I point at the television. ‘He started his own statement less than five minutes after Hale did his thing. Yesterday, their roles were reversed: Medici executed those three bloodguzzlers and Hale was talking about it within minutes.’
‘You think they’re working together?’
I nod. ‘I do. They’re not perfectly in tandem. After all, yesterday Medici was acting proud of his recruitment drive. They don’t want to appear too closely knit – but I don’t think there’s any doubt that they are. The question is why.’ Medici, Hale and the Tov V’ra – a triumvirate that seem not only to be in cahoots but also to have a carefully planned agenda. This is not good.
Medici refuses to take any questions from the assembled press, whirls round and heads back into the safety of his Family fortress. The camera flicks back to the news anchor who repeats what just happened with unmistakable glee. I nudge Mari
a and she turns off the television.
‘The other Family Heads are going to want to meet again and discuss the new development,’ Michael says.
‘It seems to me,’ I snap, ‘that there’s a whole lot of discussing going on and not much action.’
‘What would you have us do, Bo? Burn down Medici’s house with everyone inside it?’
It’s not a bad idea. I shrug helplessly at Michael. It seems that through the course of our relationship, he’s grown less decisive and softer and I’ve grown harder and more willing to allow for inevitable casualties for the sake of the greater good. It’s not a thought that sits well with me.
The tension is broken by a sharp knock at the door. All of us jump, with the exception of Kimchi who clatters towards the front and starts leaping up in delight at the unexpected caller. His claws scrape against the panelled woodwork. Whoever is on the other side starts thumping; apparently knocking simply isn’t enough.
‘Blackman! Open up!’
I frown. I know that voice. Maria vanishes while O’Shea and Michael watch me march over and nudge Kimchi out of the way. I open the door, revealing the rage-filled features of Rogu3’s father.
‘Mr Jones,’ I say. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’
He barges past me. Kimchi launches towards him with a lolling tongue but Jones scowls at the dog with such ferocity that Kimchi actually falls backwards in mid-lunge. I’ll have to try that technique myself.
Rogu3’s father looks round the room. When his eyes land on Michael, he sneers. ‘I might have known he’d be here as well. Is he involved in a plot to turn my son? Is that what this is all about?’
‘I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to,’ I say. It’s not exactly true; I think I know what he means – I just don’t want to be right.
‘You promised me you’d keep away from him!’ he yells.
Damn it. I should have known better than to take Rogu3 at his word. I should have taken a few minutes to call Mr Jones and check that it was alright for the boy to start working with me again. Shoulda woulda coulda.
‘You need to go,’ I tell Michael.
He glances from me to Mr Jones and back again. I’m obviously not in any danger, regardless of how irate Jones is. And Michael does have far more important things to do. He gives me a terse nod and strides out. I watch him go, my stomach tightening at his jerky movements.
I don’t yet know how I’ll manage it but I’m going to make things better for Michael. It’s the least I can do. I need to see him smile again, even if it kills me.
‘Are you even going to look at me?’ Rogu3’s dad rages.
I turn back to him. ‘I’m sorry. I thought that everything was…’ My voice drifts off.
‘Everything was what?’
I shake my head. ‘Nothing. I won’t contact Rogu3 again.’
‘It’s too late.’
‘It’s never too late, Mr Jones,’ I begin, but he takes a threatening step towards me. Despite the situation, I’m impressed. He will do almost anything to protect his son, even stand up against a vampire with a reputation like mine.
‘There’s a man outside my house.’ He balls up his fists. ‘Outside my home. He refuses to leave until you appear.’
I pause. Isaac. It has to be. Sudden fear rips through me. He must have discovered the truth somehow about our meeting at St Paul’s and he’s going to use it against us. If Rogu3 gets hurt, even slightly…
‘Just because he’s wearing a suit, doesn’t mean I can’t tell he’s up to no good!’ Rogu3’s father yells. ‘You don’t have to be a scary prick to dress like a reject from the Hells’ Angels.’
O’Shea shoots me a nervous look as if I’ll take offence at the insult against my dress sense but that’s not what I’m worried about. Isaac didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would wear a suit. Besides, I only saw him a couple of hours ago. Why would he have changed his clothes? I was wrong; this has to be someone else.
‘Mr Jones,’ I say carefully, ‘I need you to be more specific. What does this man look like?’
My phone rings. Normally I’d ignore it but, with everything else going on, I don’t think I can afford to. I answer it, keeping my eyes trained on Rogu3’s dad. ‘What?’
‘That’s not a very friendly way to answer the phone, Bo,’ X chides.
‘This isn’t a good time. I know we need to talk but…’
‘You’re perfectly right we need to talk. Stop arguing with the man and get over here before I get hungry.’
I freeze. Oh no. ‘You. You’re the one outside Rogu3’s house.’
‘Got it in one,’ he tells me cheerfully.
‘But you like him. You want to give him a job. Why would you…’
‘You know why. Get here, Bo. Now.’ He hangs up.
‘What is it?’ O’Shea asks, clearly alarmed at my suddenly white face.
‘I have to go,’ I mutter.
‘Who was that?’ Mr Jones demands. ‘What do they want?’
I ignore his frantic questions. ‘Where’s your wife?’
‘With Alistair at home.’
‘Did you call the police?’
‘No.’ His face pales. ‘Should I have?’
‘No. It’s good that you didn’t.’ If X wanted to, he could make mincemeat out of any coppers who showed up. They would only serve to piss him off. I know he’s a Kakos daemon but this is a hell of a way for your employer to show displeasure. Surely a note in my file would have sufficed?
I grab my jacket and shrug it on, heading straight for the door. The sky has darkened enough that I should be safe to be outside. If I take the motorbike, I can get to Rogu3’s place quickly.
‘I’m coming with you,’ Mr Jones says.
I glance back at him. His emotion makes him a liability. ‘Make sure he doesn’t leave for the next hour,’ I tell O’Shea.
‘Bo, do you really think this is a good idea?’
I soften my voice. ‘Please.’
O’Shea’s shoulders drop. ‘Okay.’
‘You can’t keep me prisoner!’ Mr Jones yells. ‘You can’t…’
I stride out, leaving him to shout and scream all he wants. I’ve got more important things to deal with.
***
‘I’m not very impressed, Bo,’ X says, shaking his head at me. ‘I don’t ask much of you, just don’t tell anyone about me and go after the criminals I point out. All you had to do was to sort out Lisa Johnson’s disappearance. Instead, you’re wilfully breaking all my rules.’
‘It’s not my fault!’ I burst out.
He clicks his tongue. ‘I thought it was a good thing when you stopped being so frightened of me.’ He steps forward, for a moment revealing the writhing black tattoos that twist and turn across his skin. ‘Now I think that was a mistake.’
I calm myself down. ‘I haven’t told anyone about you. Read my thoughts – you know exactly what I’ve done. I haven’t broken any of your damn rules.’
‘You brought the half-breed to the apartment. To my apartment. He brought the vampire. I think I made my feelings on that matter pretty clear, even for someone like you.’
I fold my arms. ‘There’s no need to insult me.’
‘It appears that there’s every need.’
‘Rogu3’s father showed up at my door less than fifteen minutes after Michael came in. There’s no way he got across town that quickly. You must have been here at least an hour before then.’ I take a deep breath and force myself to meet X’s harsh gaze. I’m not afraid of him; I’m not afraid of him; I’m not afraid of him. ‘What gives?’ I demand. ‘Is fortune-telling one of your skills as well? Because if it is, please, tell me how all this is going to end. It’ll save me some time. There’s a lot going on, you know. Medici and some politician called Vince Hale are involved with the Tov V’ra. Medici is on the verge of killing more than two thousand newbie vampires just because he feels like it. If you want to tell me off, then get in line. Right now you are low on my list of priorities.’
/> Something flashes in X’s face that almost – but not quite – has me running down the street as far away as I can get from him.
‘I instructed you to stay away from witches.’ Shit. Doris. I’d forgotten about her. ‘You failed, little Bo. I also told you to stay away from Medici and concentrate on Lisa Johnson.’
‘Didn’t you hear what I just said?’ I say, growing bolder because I was still standing. ‘They’re all linked.’
‘You don’t want to annoy me, Bo,’ he says silkily. ‘I don’t have many faults but I can, on occasion, be a bit petty. Cross me and you’ll suffer the consequences. Leave Medici alone. Concentrate on the Tov V’ra and rescuing Lisa.’
‘Why do you care so much about one human girl?’
His dark eyes swarm over me. ‘Every life is important.’
‘This coming from a Kakos daemon,’ I scoff. I tilt up my chin. ‘I’m not making another move until you promise me that you will leave Rogu3 alone.’
‘I fail to see why you insist on using that ridiculous moniker.’
‘It’s the one he’s chosen. And I mean it, X, you know I do. I will walk away right here and right now unless you give me your word that you won’t go near him again.’
X regards me silently for a moment. ‘Do you know,’ he says eventually, ‘I think you mean that.’
‘You can read my mind. You should know.’
He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. I catch a glimpse of his sharp white teeth and only just repress a shudder. I’m aware that I’m treading on dangerous ground here but I’ve had enough of X and his demands. I’m not his plaything to jerk around as he pleases.
‘Very well,’ he says. ‘I vow that I will not approach Alistair Jones again. My word is my bond, Bo. I never break it.’
I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. ‘Thank you.’
