Vampire's Key - Chapter Eight
Vampire's Key
Chapter Eight
The shadows cast by the leaded window formed a net over the grainy window seat. Adrian thought they looked like prison bars caging the sun, preventing its heat from alleviating the chill of his body. He didn’t usually feel the cold, but today, for some reason — perhaps simply because he’d been sitting around for so long — he was feeling vulnerable. He’d been watching the criss-cross pattern for some time now, while waiting for Lady Mortimer to finish reading his report. Behind him, at the back of the room, sat Lord Alexander, along with two other unidentified high-ranking officers. They had all remained unsettlingly quiet throughout the investigation, leaving the English ladyto ask questions and counter questions.
Lady Mortimer adjusted her position, her head resting on well-manicured hands that framed her brow as she read through his report. Surely she had finished it by now,he thought. It wasn’t that long, was it?He studied her again, wondering if she’d ever encountered a long-tooth. Had she staked one and experienced the stench that came from their awful diet? Or struck a single blow that separated the head from the body, leaving a deep, dark stain of blood that only fire would cleanse? Perhaps she secretly wished she was one. As free of the sisters of the night. But freedom doesn’t come at the price of human lives. That’s what his father told him when he was young. Freedom comes through life, not death. Death was the vampires’ way. Life was the way of the Stake. Well, she may not be a vampire,he thought, but if Lady Mortimer wasn’t going to drain him to the point of death, she was certainly going through due process — ensuring that every item was checked before she hung him out to dry.
Or at least, that’s what Smith had told him, not sparing any detail or rumour to reduce Lady Mortimer’s standing to that of a nymphomaniac sycophant or a frigid, by-the-book feminist who hated men and was definitely a lesbian. Adrian couldn’t place either label on her.
Lady Isabel Florence Mortimer. Oxford graduate. A Masters in some high-sounding, convoluted subject. A landed title and apparently plenty of land, too. And to top it off she was beautiful.
She shifted in her seat, took a sip of water and continued to read. The sunlight behind her turned her auburn hair golden and formed an aura around her body that left Adrian wondering what it was like to kiss the supposed frigid nymphomaniac.
He sighed and looked out the window to the small courtyard below. The castle battlements prevented a view of the sea from his seat and he had to satisfy himself with the smell of salty air that at least alleviated the musty claustrophobia of the small, cold room.
After he’d been summoned, he’d been told to wait outside the top room where he overheard Captain Smith parrying word for word, rebuttal for rebuttal against a seemingly out-matched Lady Mortimer. Apparently, he hadn’t brought his girlfriend back to the island as he’d been ordered, and this act of impudence, defiance, disobedience, whatever she called it, had left her infuriated and speechless.
And now it was his turn, though Adrian had no intention of turning this investigation into an argument. He’d told them what had occurred, pretty much to the letter, when his superiors had investigated him in America. All he had to do was repeat, ad verbatim, what had happened. Lady Mortimer had told him she wasn’t interested in nuanced answers. She wanted hard, cold, scientifically verifiable facts, and that was what he’d given her. Yet, she still wasn’t satisfied. And so he had gone over it all again, describing how they’d been on the trail of a Matriarch in New Mexico. How Sunita had evaded them in the Carlsbad Caverns. How his troop had been resting safely behind a wall of apotropaics and yet they’d still got in. When he’d been revived they were all dead. Tray, Connor, Luke, Byron. All were drained. Why was he the only one left? Adrian couldn’t say. He’d been there all along, sleeping in a back room. And that was it.
Lady Mortimer wasn’t convinced. “Vampires sense blood, they can smell it,” she’d said. “Some Sisters see the warmth of the human body, others feel the presence of a human soul. And yet Adrian had survived. Why?” Adrian knew, but didn’t say. Leave Gabriela out of it, he thought, they didn’t know about her, or her sister, and that was just fine.
Finally, Lady Mortimer closed the file. Her warm eyes had soured, staring distrustfully at the American Stake. She shook her head, leaned forward and said, “We’ve gone over everything, Lieutenant Frazer. If you have nothing else to say, you are dismissed.”
“Nothing else,” Adrian replied, getting up.
“We've just had the latest reports,” Lord Alexander announced, speaking for the first time throughout the whole proceedings. “There has been a 50% increase in female’s turning in America. Europe continues it's increase of 10% a year. While Africa and Asia, have risen by 25% and 31% respectively. Based on these figures, we are fighting a losing battle. We cannot afford losses such as that of your American troop, Lieutenant Frazer.”
“Yes sir,” Adrian replied.
“You do realise,” the lord continued, “if you are found guilty, you may wish Sunita had killed you along with the rest of your troop.”
Adrian said nothing and left the room, pleased that they still didn’t know.
*
“So?” Carl asked, as Adrian queued up to get some lunch. It was nearly 1pm and the canteen was busy, with the majority of tables already taken by staff from the administrative and medical sections. Suit jackets and white lab coats outnumbered the fatigues of the military and maintenance teams. Adrian was one of the few in a military uniform. It was of a lighter, sand colour than the European version which favoured a darker green to match the natural environment. Adrian’s last base of operation had been the southern deserts of the USA and he had yet to be given a European kit like Carl’s.
The blue-eyed Englishman stared at him. “What happened?” he asked again.
“Forget it,” Adrian said.
“Suit yourself.” Carl shrugged, scooping a ladle of baked beans from the bottom of a deep pan. “Up tight bitch isn’t she?” he observed, tipping the lukewarm food in the space beside his sausage and mash.
Adrian didn’t respond. It had been a long morning and he was hungry. Right now, he could do without Smith’s observations.
“Have you heard the latest?” Carl enquired, moving on to add a dessert to his tray.
“What’s that?” Adrian asked. “Cornish pasty and fries, please,” he ordered, passing his plate to the chef. It looked the most edible, with a new batch of fries just added to the large pan. The chef dumped the food unceremoniously onto his plate and handed it back.
“Those fucking tech guys,” Carl said, glancing over at a group of six men seated at a table in the centre of the restaurant. Adrian followed his gaze. The men were of varying ages, from their late-40s, he guessed, down to their early twenties. Unlike the table of suits behind them, they were dressed casually.
“They’ve only gone and kitted us out with untested equipment.”
“What?” Adrian asked as the chef piled his plate with fries.
“I just heard. That new kid told me.”
Adrian grimaced as he grabbed an apple pie and custard for dessert, then followed Carl to a table beside a rather draughty window.
“What new kid?”
“I don’t know his name, but he’s barely out of nappies.”
“What equipment?” Adrian asked, realising he’d forgotten his knife and fork.
“Grab me a cup of water,” Carl called out after him.
Adrian nodded and made his way back to the food counter, then returned with two cups of water and the missing utensils.
“Cheers,” Carl said, then continued. “I don’t know. He just said we were testing something. I don’t know what it is. Another piece of shit electronics that won’t work properly. You know?” He paused to take another mouthful of food. “I remember, a few years back, they gave us an ultrasonic repellent to help us clear a Hide. It was another one of those run-down places. Rough part of some town everyone has forgotten about. Way off the tourist map. So we head into the council estate. Two tower blocks and a barren patch of grass with broken swings and locals you could catch a disease off. The house was opposite. I guess it was once an exclusive area until it was bombed out during the war.” He paused to eat some more food before it got too cold. “So it looked like a squat. The kind of place no one would visit. And if they did... well, we found four dead ‘visitors’ in the basement. Four lifeless mummies you could say. No vitality left in them. Makes me sick to think of it actually.”
Not so sick that it puts you off your food,Adrian thought.
“So it’s midday. A nice, warm, summers day and we’re in this Hide...” he paused, and took a sip of water. “Do you call them Hides in America? Or something else?”
“We call them Hides,” Adrian said, not sure if he could eat while listening to Carl reminiscence.
“Hides, nests, vampire squats. It’s all the same,” Carl dismissed. “They hole up. Hide amongst us, acting as if they’re normal women. Fucking demons. But this place. It was perfect. I mean, it looked like shit on the outside, but inside—I dunno what they’re like in the US—the inside was amazing. Not just nice or smart. But expensive. These were rich bitch vampires. I guess that’s what it’s like if you got slaves working for you. You haven’t got to do anything but sit back and live off us men.” Carl paused to take a few more mouthfuls of food, downed his water, then disappeared to grab another.
Adrian used the brief interlude to carve up his cornish pasty and take a few bites.
“So we go in,” Carl said, reseating himself, “and we’ve got this new gadget. If they’re dormant it’s meant to bring them out. You know, rise from the ground, emerge from the walls. Like worms when it rains. So we give this thing a go. And what happens?”
Adrian shrugged.
“Nothing! Sweet fuck all! Nothing! It doesn’t work. We have to go from room to room, using apo’s. Spraying liquid garlic and condensed rose.”
“Did the apo’s work?” Adrian asked. “Did you get them?”
“Apotropaics worked a lot better than this gadget they gave us. We killed the lot.”
Adrian took another bite of food, while Carl glanced around the room.
“Jesus, look...” Carl exclaimed, turning back to Adrian with a grin on his face. “It’s Hannah.”
Adrian turned around to spy an attractive redhead, seated alone at a table. Her long, straight hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her head down, she flicked through her phone, while slowly eating her salad.
“Horny Hannah,” Carl said, then grinned. “She moans like an angel”.
Adrian shot him a cold look.
“She’s one of yours, you know?”
“Mine?”
“Another yank. New York, I think.”
Adrian stared at the young woman. A splash of freckles dotted her gentle face. She looked up, momentarily matched his gaze, took a deep breath, then returned to her phone.
“She’s with intelligence.”
“Intelligence?” Adrian repeated. He glanced at Carl, not wishing to know what the English Stake was thinking.
“Yeah, she’s in contact with our agent.”
“Do you know who he is?”
Carl studied him for a moment, then asked, “Why?”
Adrian shrugged. “No reason.” He glanced back at the intelligence officer one more time. She was pretty, with a long smooth face that hinted at a good-natured sense of humour. He was pretty sure she’d make better company than the captain. Not that that was hard,he thought.He made a note to join her one day. But then... Gabriela. The image of the Latina was instantly followed by her younger sister.It left his heart feeling heavy. No, he realised, Hannah was better kept at a distance.
“You know, everyone’s heard about you,” Carl declared, breaking Adrian’s train of thought.
“What? Heard what?
“You got your whole team killed.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah.” Carl’s stare was a challenge to Adrian which the American declined. Instead, he forked a portion of pasty and fries into his mouth.
“So I wonder,” Carl continued, finishing his first course. “If you’re the kind of guy we want on our team.” Carl stared at him again, waiting for Adrian’s response. “So?” Carl said, when Adrian didn’t answer.
“So what?”
“So can we trust you?”
“I did what I had to,” Adrian replied. “I did exactlywhat I had to. You know as well as I, people die in this job. People die. That’s a fact of life when you’re a Stake.”
Carl pushed his plate aside, pulled his dessert in front of him and picked up his spoon. “Yeah,” he said finally, studying the dark-haired American. “People die. But, here, in the UK, we work as a team. And I want to know, can we trust you?”
Adrian placed his knife and fork on his plate and leaned forward. “I’ll do my job. Don’t worry. I’ll do my job.”
“You better,” Carl warned, “because if you don’t, we’ll kill you.”
“You can try,” Adrian replied, getting up. “I think I need some air.”
“We’re watching you, yank.”
Watch all you like, Adrian thought. I got other things to deal with.
Vampire’s Key
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