Right to Silence

by Lily Luchesi

  He went into a locked cabinet and retrieved a sharpened, silver meat cleaver, holy water, garlic, and a wooden stake with a hammer. Michael’s expression when he saw the items was mixed confusion and horror.

  The Y-shaped cuts he’d made making it much easier than he had expected, Ben took the stake and placed it over the exposed heart. Holding it steady with his left hand, he swung the hammer down with more force than necessary. He did not hesitate to admit to himself that he was showing off for Michael.

  The stake slid smoothly through the muscle, impaling it. Nothing happened, and Ben sighed with relief. “That’s good news.”

  “What is? That you just mutilated a poor lass’ corpse?” Michael cried.

  Ben asked his lover to put the unused tools back in the cabinet as he stitched up the body, readying it for burial. “Had she been a vampire, we would have been in deep trouble. Because morgues are underground, no natural light permeates the room. Which means she could have woken up and slaughtered us both. I may have mutilated a corpse, but I also prevented a potential vampire from waking up and killing you.”

  Michael sat in Ben’s desk chair, his face white as a sheet.

  “Are you unwell?” Ben asked, bending down in front of him. He placed a hand on his knee and felt how he trembled.

  “I’m frightened. I’m a bit sickened. Also, I do not think I have what it takes to hunt a damned vampire,” Michael said.

  “If I did not think you had what it took to be a hunter, I would never have introduced you to this lifestyle,” Ben said. “You did quite well against the werewolf, and I am sure you will do wonderfully against the vampire as well. Now, what do you say that we go back to see Constable Linwood?” He stood and held a strong hand out to Michael, who took it and stood as well. “He has to give me the information to go and speak with witnesses.”

  Ben used his momentum to pull Michael close and kiss him, trailing his teeth along Michael’s bottom lip. He pulled away slowly, and as Michael was level with his nose, he reached up and placed a chaste kiss on its tip, causing Ben to giggle.

  “This life won’t be so bad if you’re by my side,” Michael said, putting his head on Ben’s shoulder. Ben could tell that he was nervous about going into a hunter’s life, but he vowed to himself that he would be a wonderful teacher and would protect him as much as possible.

  They stopped by Constable Linwood’s offices to get the address of the witness, and then boarded a taxi to take them across London. The guard lived in a modest flat not far from the palace, not dissimilar to the flat Quinn and Finnigan shared, but even less neat. Michael had not thought that was possible, especially living with a man who literally brought his work home with him. At least there were no body parts in the witness’ home...at least, he hoped not!

  “You were an eyewitness to the murder that occurred at three this morning?” Benjamin asked brusquely.

  “We need any information you can provide, please,” Michael added, trying to amend his lover’s harsh words. He was beginning to understand why Ben preferred working with corpses: he was not very good with living people.

  “Yes, gentlemen, I was,” the man, Private Anderson, said. “I b’lieve he was a madman. He started talkin’ to the lass, an’ I thought they were friends, or more. When he started kissin’ her, I turned away. Impolite to stare, an’ improper to do somethin’ like that in public. But then the lass screamed, an’ I ran to see if I could help. He was...he was bitin’ her throat. Like an animal. I thought I was seein’ things. He looked up when he heard me, an’ he was laughin’, face all covered wi’ blood. I swear his eyes were red like the Devil, they were! An’ then he was gone, like smoke.” Private Anderson shuddered. “Never seen nothin’ like it all my life, but my Gran used to talk about monsters like that. Scared me an’ my brothers right silly when we were young ’uns.”

  Finnigan was writing it all down, surprised that Quinn was not. He was simply nodding, his eyes never leaving the Private’s thin face.

  “And what did he look like?” Quinn asked.

  “He was thin, but wiry. Looked like he could snap my neck wi’ his hands, he did. He had really pale pallor, and his hair was black, darker than yours, Mr. Quinn,” Anderson said. “He was dressed real fancy, too. Like you, but he was smaller. Not as small as the doctor here, though.”

  Quinn stood up abruptly. “Good enough. Come, Doctor. Our work is not nearly done.”

  Finnigan stood and hastily thanked Private Anderson for his time. “I realise witnessing such things might have unpleasant after-effects. Should you find yourself in need of a sleeping draught or something to ease your nerves, you know where my office is.”

  He left then, following Quinn’s long strides down the way.

  “Why do you do that?” he asked him.

  “Do what?” Quinn replied.

  “Act so abrupt and uncaring. He was clearly in need of a kind word,” Finnigan scolded.

  Quinn nodded. “He was, and you gave him what he needed. That is why we work so well together: you can put witnesses at ease, make them easier to work with. I do not have your gift of social conventionalities, in case you could not tell. You can do what I am unable to. That aspect of your nature was plain to see while you were tending to the werewolf the night we met. It was why I fell in love with you.”

  Before Finnigan could respond, Quinn changed the subject back to the matter at hand, as if talking about sentiment for too long was impossible for him to manage.

  “Private Anderson surprised me with his recall. Not as good as I’d have liked, but enough so that we can rule out nearly half the male population of London by location alone. He was well dressed, indicative of being of good birth...or he at least pretends to be. He is probably a modern vampire, which means that he is a master at pretending to be human. That rules out the feral vampires that prefer to live in nature. And anyone tall, overweight, or with light hair is also to be ruled out.”

  “But that still leaves thousands of men,” Finnigan commented.

  “Do not be so negative. I am not the best hunter in England for nothing, Michael.” Benjamin winked.

  ***

  Michael was enjoying a rare day off, reading the paper in the warm afternoon light, while Benjamin was out on a personal errand. After living with Ben for a month, the two men had fallen into comfortable routine. Not to say that there weren’t still things about each other that surprised them, because they were still learning about and getting used to each other’s little quirks.

  Ben had been marginally shocked when he found out that Michael enjoyed reading florid fiction magazines. He was even more put off when Michael read a few of his favourites aloud. Michael, in his turn, had no idea that Ben played the cello. In fact, he played it quite well, and during the evenings Michael loved to listen to him play. However, it was not so nice when Ben decided to play in the small hours of the morning, his long-time hunting lifestyle causing him occasional bouts of insomnia.

  When that happened, Michael simply distracted Benjamin’s mind with other things in order to help him get to sleep.

  Benjamin was untidy, brooding, and certainly abrupt. There were things about him that would make a flatmate move out post-haste. With lovers, it was different. Ben’s quirks, such as they were, were not too big of an issue between them. They made Michael love him even more, because few people knew about them. Michael had been let into Ben’s insular life, and he felt privileged.

  Back to that unseasonably warm September afternoon.

  Michael was seated in what he thought of as “his” chair (Ben’s being the one directly across from the coffee table), the sun streaming in from the window, illuminating the occasional dust particle and allowing him to read with ease. He was wrapped up in a story about a murderer in Scotland when he heard their front door open, creaking on its hinges.

  Fear crept up his throat, and he took his gun from his hip and turned towards the intruder, for he knew this tread was not Benjamin’s. He came face to face with a man who loo
ked as shocked as he was. The man was pale, willowy, a bit sallow-faced, and sharp eyed. He was dressed in very haute couture garments, things Michael could never afford on a physician’s salary, and stood there with an air of authority.

  “Oh. Who might you be?” the stranger asked, his accent as clipped and posh as Ben’s.

  “I think a better query might be who are you?” Michael replied. “This is my home, and you are breaking and entering.” He did not lower the gun.

  The man’s eyes widened for just a moment. “Does Benjamin Quinn no longer reside here? If not, please forgive my intrusion.” He held his hand up, a fob dangling from long fingers. “I do have a key, by the by. I am in no way breaking the law by being here.”

  Who was this gent, why did he have a key to Ben’s flat, and why did he act as though he belonged there? For a moment, hurt settled in Michael’s chest. Was this a former lover? Worse, was this a current lover Ben was keeping from him?

  “I am Mr. Quinn’s flatmate,” Michael said. “I stay in the room upstairs. Now, please, tell me who you are. I would rather not get blood all over the floors. I just washed them.”

  The man smiled again. His smile was not kind or amused, however. It was condescending, cold. Michael didn’t think he liked him.

  “I am Mahon Quinn. Benjamin’s elder brother. Might you be so kind as to tell me your name?” Mahon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Doctor Michael Finnigan.” Michael put his gun away, fairly certain that this man posed no immediate threat. He felt relief flood his chest. If he remembered correctly, Mahon took care of Ben when their parents had passed away. He was also a hunter who taught Ben those night-time activities, killing the monsters who called London home.

  “Oh. I see.” Mahon walked into the room and sat in Ben’s chair as if he owned the place. “The constable told me about you. He said you have been a great help to my brother in his hunts.”

  “I believe I am of assistance, yes,” Michael said. “Despite my being a doctor, my father was in the military, he was an advisor in the American War of Independence before his passing. I was taught many things at his knee, including combat tactics. I never thought they would come in handy, but I see I was incorrect on that matter.”

  “Indeed. Your father was a wonderful asset to King and country. In fact, I was wondering if you would be willing to join the Armed Forces. We will be going to war with France next year, if things continue to progress as they have been.”

  Michael laughed. “No, Mr. Quinn, I am not at all inclined to join the military. Indeed, we have enough of a battle going on right here in London. ...How did you know my father?”

  “We met very briefly when I was a student, preparing for my place in Parliament. In the time since, I have merely checked my records to refresh my memory on that information. I am certain my brother is in good hands as long as he is working with you.” Mahon’s eyes seemed to be taking in not just Michael’s appearance, but his soul as well.

  Michael felt strangely violated, as if his very atoms were being taken apart and analysed by this man. Brother of Ben’s or not, he was an unsettling personage. Michael wished to be rid of him.

  “Benjamin is not home at the moment, as you can tell. Would you prefer to leave a message with me instead of remaining here unnecessarily?” Michael asked, trying to sound polite and not as if he were trying to get rid of Mahon.

  Mahon gave that little smile again, as if he knew exactly what Michael was trying to do. “I do know that my personality can be off putting, Doctor. While I do wish to speak to my brother, finding you here alone is quite fortuitous. You see, my brother can be reckless, burdensome even. I need to know if you are qualified to be able to take care of him. Despite being a grown man, he does act quite childlike. In addition, he is known for putting himself and those around him in grave danger when facing adversaries.”

  Michael held a hand up to stop him. “Forgive me, but I do know that Ben can be...difficult. Believe me, I knew that from the moment we met. However, he and I get on quite well. You do not have to worry about me betraying him in any way. And if he needs protection, I will be there to protect him. I will stitch up his wounds, but first I will prevent him from being hurt for any reason whatsoever. There will be days when he will drive me up the bloody wall, but I promise I will always be here for him.”

  Michael stopped himself there. Where on Earth had all of that come from? It was uncommon for a man to get so emotional and expressive. It had all come out in a rush, and Michael suddenly knew that this man with the shrewd eyes knew exactly what Michael and Ben were up to.

  Surprisingly, Mahon didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he seemed to be truly contemplating what Michael had said. Michael got that intrusive feeling once again, that Mahon was delving deep inside of his heart with those eyes of his.

  Mahon leaned forward in the chair, hands clasped before him. “I am a minor official in the UK Parliament. I work extremely closely with Constable Linwood. Allow me the liberty to say that what you and my brother do in this flat is your business, and no one else’s. However, if I find that you ever hurt my brother, I will be sure to have you hung on sodomy charges. Do we have an understanding? My brother plays at being so strong, but he is still just a baby in my eyes. I will not see him hurt...and this time I do not mean by monsters.”

  Under normal circumstances, Michael would be incensed at being threatened, except for the last two sentences Mahon had said. It was touching how much he cared about his brother. Michael was a bit miffed at his tone, but he knew it came from a place of love.

  Staring Mahon straight in the eyes, he said, “I can promise you I will never let him come to harm, physical or otherwise. There is no need for threats.”

  Mahon was going to respond when the flat’s door swung open and Ben’s deep voice could be heard.

  “Brother mine, what on Earth are you doing here? Michael, he is not giving you any problems, is he?” Ben walked swiftly into the flat, removing his outerwear and placing a book in front of Michael. “I saw this on my walk. I thought you might enjoy it. It looks like the type of drivel with which you usually entertain yourself.”

  Michael looked down and smiled. It was a recent mystery novel, the type of thing Ben scoffed at. He despised them, yet he bought one for Michael because he knew Michael loved them. It was moments like these that made Michael fall deeper in love with him.

  Mahon stood up languidly, moving with the same easy grace his brother had. Michael marvelled at the two of them. The looked nothing alike, yet when they stood side-by-side, there was no mistaking their relation.

  “I had been coming to check on you, little brother. I see you are in good hands, so I will be going now. Oh, I spoke with Linwood about the vampire you are searching for. If you need the assistance of myself or Parliament, please simply wire me at my office.” Mahon nodded in Michael’s direction. “Quite nice making your acquaintance, Doctor.”

  “I can’t say the same, Mr. Quinn,” Michael replied.

  “Of course you cannot,” Benjamin cut in. “He is an insufferable sod.”

  “And you are an impertinent child,” Mahon added before he left the flat.

  Michael looked between the two brothers with a small smile. Two highly important men, well-bred, wealthy, and intelligent: fighting like cats and dogs. It was endearing. “Do you and your brother always get along so turbulently?” he asked.

  “No,” Ben replied. “Oftentimes we are much worse. So, what did my brother come to talk to you about?”

  “You, actually. Apparently the constable and your brother know exactly what we do behind closed doors,” Michael said. “Your brother told me that if I ever hurt you, he will personally see to it that I get put in the gallows.”

  Ben’s eyes widened, pupils shrinking. “He did what? Why did you not tell me when he was here? Now I must chase his carriage across London and—”

  Michael stood up, catching Ben’s hand in his. “Oi, come on, love. No need
to be so brash. Your brother loves you very much. He would not see you hurt if he can help it.” Michael looked up into Ben’s eyes. “And neither would I. I love you, Benjamin. I believe I have loved you from the moment I set my eyes on you. I am willing to fight monsters and get threatened by your brother just to be with you. I am honoured that you want to defend me, but there is no need. Your brother and I are on the same side— we are on your side.”

  Ben’s cold eyes warmed, shocked at first, but gradually taking on the deep warmth of the ocean in August. He leaned his head forward, gently pressing his lips to Michael’s for a short moment before pulling away.

  Michael smiled as Ben began to pace before the fireplace. Nothing could distract his mind for long when it came to work, not even passion. “While I was out, I decided to take a detour to visit Miss Holmes in hospital.”

  Miss Marian Holmes was a nurse at St. Bartholomew’s, and an active member of the Catholic Church. She and Michael had crossed paths many times in the past few months thanks to their professions.

  “I had thought that, if there had been Unholy activity happening in the area, she might know of it. I was terribly shocked that, when I found her, I spotted a tell-tale mark upon her neck.” Ben finally sat, but was by no means still. His foot was tapping and his eyes were shifting. “Most vampires drink from a victim and kill them immediately. However, they may feed slowly upon their intended victim if they please, the effect slowly transforming their prey into one of them. The victim eventually succumbs from the loss of blood, and the result of that death is transformation. I believe our vampire is feeding from the good nurse, and I have begun to devise a plan to capture and subsequently execute him.”