The Night Wraiths were also making regular forays out into Topside London, hunting for humans to bring down into the catacombs for their hungry master, who never left his caves. Unfortunately, owing to the age of the city and the still greater age of the catacombs, there was no way of sealing them completely. London’s extensive drain system and underground rail network was breeched here and there by narrow fissures through which the wraiths could crawl to reach Topside. They had no sense of discomfort, no fear of discovery, injury or death. They existed only to serve their master. He was fighting a war of slow attrition, wearing down his two adversaries; the humans and the rest of Lundercity.
The idea of nightly patrols came from Connery.
“We travel in pairs. We split the city into districts and each district is patrolled by as many pairs as necessary, plus one van to collect the wraiths and bring them back down to the dungeons under the Castle of Clubs.”
“For how long?” asked the Boy King, who insisted on being an active part of all discussions.
“Until we can kill the 1st King,” replied Connery. “Then there may be a chance of getting these people back.”
It was something that was in the forefront of the minds of everyone who went on these patrols – and Connery and I were the first to volunteer – the knowledge that the wraiths were ordinary people who had fallen foul of the 1st King. We did not know for sure if we could restore them, but if we could, then the idea of killing one was terrible. We had all been forced to do it, usually when a human life was at risk, and it was a grim moment.
The patrols worked well, particularly when combined with the efforts of the humans, who had finally taken notice of what the Boy King had been telling them and taken action themselves. We now had a united effort between the resistance, the Court of Clubs headed by the Boy King, and the humans. We outnumbered our adversary by a vast margin and yet the threat continued to grow. The King recruited new vampires to replace those wraiths he had lost. We could slow him down, but the only way to stop him was to kill him.
“How?” asked the Boy King. “No one can get close. Vampires fall under his power and a human – even the strongest human – would be shredded before they got near.”
“It’s been done before,” said Katya. “Ursula has seen it.”
“Dreamed it,” I corrected.
“By this Jack,” nodded the King.
Connery shook his head. “I know that’s how he was killed the first time, but - you were down there when the King was resurrected; you saw Jack trying to fight him. He should have been at his weakest and Jack still couldn’t take him. Why was he able to back then and not now?”
I shrugged. “I wish I could tell you. All I know is what I’ve dreamed.”
Katya nodded. “The bottom line is that Jack did kill the King before. We need to know how he did it. That’s the only way I can think of.” She looked at me. “Have you had any more dreams?”
But I could only shake my head. I had not dreamt of Jack and Marianne since this latest threat had started, since the night of the resurrection, since Connery had drank my blood.
Chapter 5
“You’ve been very quiet,” Connery observed as we arrived back at base.
I nodded, giving him a rueful smile. “Just thinking about how we got here.”
The Night Wraiths we had taken, including the one that had attacked Petersen, were driven off to be held under the Castle of Clubs, the most secure prison available. It had been a successful night, and a satisfying one – I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t enjoy being out wraith hunting with Connery. For us, it was sort of like date night.
But every now and then something would bring home to me the reality of the situation we were facing, something like saving Petersen. If I hadn’t been there tonight, then in the morning, Petersen’s Chief would have been making a call to his wife. Of course, I had been there and Petersen had gone home to his wife, but not everyone had been so lucky. This might not be a traditional war, but it was a war nevertheless.
“Where’s Sharpe?” Connery asked a resistance fighter, whose name I couldn’t recall just then.
“Council. They said that you should go straight in.”
Connery nodded and we made our way to the council chamber. The resistance had moved into shiny new headquarters adjacent to the Castle of Clubs, more suiting of our new status. The resistance had become part of the establishment, and while some of its members hankered for the old days when they were sitting in a basement, talking a lot and achieving almost nothing, Sharpe reveled in this new position. He was holding court as we entered.
“…so in the end, it all comes back to the same thing. Ah,” he looked up, “Ursula, we were just talking about you. Any…?”
I shook my head. “No dreams.”
Sharpe nodded. He had been expecting the answer. “It’s been two months. I would say that either that was the end of the ‘story’ or they have stopped for some reason. Katya? Thoughts?”
Katya had not arrived much ahead of us and was still organizing the mound of paper in front of her. Though still an active part of the resistance – she would not have had it any other way – she now also acted as advisor to the Boy King and was practically a member of the Court of Clubs.
“The dreams started after Jack drank your blood?” she checked with me.
I nodded. “Even before I was up in his castle, when he attacked me on the street, here in Lundercity, I had a very vivid dream afterwards.”
“About Jack and this Marianne?” asked Sharpe.
“No.”
“About what the…”
“Nothing relevant.” I wished I hadn’t brought it up. I was sure that the lucid dream had been triggered by Jack drinking my blood, but it had been a sex dream about Connery and I wasn’t comfortable discussing it with his colleagues. “But it was perhaps prophetic in some way. There was stuff in it I couldn’t have known.” Again, I wasn’t about to elaborate, as the stuff I couldn’t have known was details about Connery’s body.
“And then each time he drank your blood at Castle de Coeur, you had a dream.”
“And then once after I left.”
Katya nodded. “But then the dreams stopped.” She looked around the room. “Ursula, I’m sorry to be personal, and maybe we ought to have had this conversation in private, but it is important; has Connery drunk your blood?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And you haven’t had one of those dreams since he drank your blood?”
“No.”
Katya had clearly been expecting this. “It’s possible that the effect of whatever Jack put in your blood wore off with time. But I think, more likely, that Connery drinking you canceled it out.”
“You mean,” Connery looked a little put off, “I drank what Jack put into her blood?”
“Possibly.”
“Why isn’t he having the dreams then?” I asked, irritably.
“Because I don’t have that ancestral connection to him through Marianne?” suggested Connery.
“Possibly,” Katya repeated.
“Nice to know we’re not related,” I muttered.
“Is there any way of getting the dreams back?” asked Sharpe.
Katya nodded. “Of course.”
“Other than Jack biting Ursula again?” Connery added swiftly.
“Oh. Then no.”
It didn’t seem fair. The night that Connery had drunk my blood for the first time had been special. It had been like our first time all over again. In fact, it had been like losing my virginity again – and this time it had not been in the back seat of a car, it had lasted longer than twenty seconds and hadn’t ended with an apology. It had been a wonderful night, cementing the love between us, and it didn’t seem fair that in celebrating our love we had accidentally lost our best chance of learning how to kill the King of Nightmares.
“If we can’t learn from the dreams,” Sharpe spoke again, “then we need to go straight to the source. Jack knows how to kil
l him and it didn’t look like he was any friend of the 1st King.”
“It also didn’t look like he knew how to kill him,” muttered Connery. Connery did not like Jack. I would like to have thought it was because Jack had kidnapped me and held me against my will, but I got the impression there was a spark of jealousy there, too. Jack had drunk my blood first, which was a big deal to vampires. There also existed some sort of odd psychic connection between us, which had been on my mind recently.
“He knew once,” Sharpe said. “He can tell us how he did it back then.”
“We’d have to find him.” Katya shook her head. “The King,” meaning the Boy King, “sent Guards up to Castle de Coeur and there’s no sign of him. If Jack doesn’t want to be found then he’s not going to be found. And bearing in mind that he is hiding from the King of Nightmares, I’d guess he is hiding extremely well.”
“I can find him.”
The room looked to me. I could feel Connery’s eyes on me especially.
“You can find him?” Katya repeated.
“That’s what I said,” I explained. “I’m not getting the dreams anymore, so I guess whatever caused them is gone from my blood. But I still…” I tried to find the words that would explain what I felt and also not make Connery jealous. “If I focus hard, I can feel him inside me.” That probably wasn’t the best choice of words. “It’s like when he drew me up to Castle de Coeur – that pull. I don’t feel the pull normally, but if I concentrate then I can choose to feel it. That connection is still there.”
“But I’ve drunk your blood loads of times since then.” From the look on Connery’s face, he was aware of how petulant he sounded. That wasn’t like him, but this thing with Jack got under his skin.
I shrugged. “Then I guess whatever it is, is not in my blood.”
“If you think you can find him,” said Sharpe, standing up, “then do it.”
“We don’t even know if he can help,” Connery objected.
“He killed the 1st King once,” Katya interjected. “He might be willing to do it again. He is a powerful vampire.”
“And a dangerous one,” Connery added.
“It’s worth asking.”
“And if he doesn’t want to be found?”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I said. “I know Jack better than any of you. I think he’d kill me, or any of you, in a heartbeat if he thought it would help him or save his ass. But underneath all that bravado there is a heart. I’ve seen it.” Jack had loved Marianne; there was no doubt in my mind about it.
“The fact that you know him best just shows how little we know,” Connery protested. “This is a vampire of maybe a thousand years old; hugely powerful. How does someone like that end up running a nightclub in New York?”
“I’ll ask him when I see him,” I said.
“Connery,” Katya spoke kindly, “I understand this is difficult for you, but right now, Ursula is offering us what may be our best chance at taking down the 1st King. In fact, it may be our only chance.”
Connery slumped. “Of course. But I’m going with her.”
I smiled. “I would like that.”
Jealousy wasn’t a good color on Connery but I knew that it was also mixed with genuine fear for my well-being, and that protectiveness was one of the things I loved about him most. Besides, it would be nice to take a road trip together.
Sharpe banged his hand onto the table. “Then it’s settled. Ursula and Connery will go look for Jack to ask him how he killed the King of Nightmares the first time and if he would be willing to do it again.”
“It might also be an idea,” mused Katya, “to ask why. He might not want to answer but if he does then it might tell us more about who this Jack is. The more we know about his motives the more we potentially learn about the 1st King.”
Sharpe nodded. “Good idea.” He drew himself up, somewhat pompously. “I shall inform his Majesty of our intended course of action.”
As the meeting broke up, Connery and I headed for home. These days, ‘home’ to me meant Connery’s apartment as much as my own place Topside. I had not slept in my own bed since this started, and had only really been back to pick up stuff to keep at Connery’s. I was as comfortable there as I was with Connery himself. Somewhere in amongst the blood and death and danger, we had found a curious domesticity and our own private routine. As we had after that terrible night in the catacombs, we always made love after our stints on patrol – a celebration of the fact that we remained alive and together.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Connery.
I frowned, as I had been taking my top off at the time. “I always want to do this. When we’re in the council chamber it’s all I can do not to throw myself across the table and beg you to ravish me.”
“Good to know,” said Connery, kissing me as he unbuttoned my pants, “but not what I meant.”
“Oh.” The mission to find Jack. I really didn’t want to talk about that now. Or at all, really, but… “Are you asking if I want to do this? Or are you telling me that you don’t want me to do this.”
“Do I strike you as that petty?”
I kissed him. “I love you. But when it comes to Jack, then yes. You strike me as that petty.”
“Well then,” Connery picked me up and I eagerly wrapped my legs about his waist, “let’s see if I can make you forget about Jack for one night, at least.”
I happily submitted and we were soon in bed together, but I couldn’t help thinking that, of the two of us, I wasn’t the one who needed to forget about Jack.
Chapter 6
We set out the following day, with only my instincts to guide us.
“Well?” asked Connery, and I could still sense his nervousness about what I was about to do.
I took a deep breath. “Here goes.”
I wasn’t even sure if this was going to work. I cleared my mind and then let my senses roam throughout my body. Over the last few months, I had become aware of a pocket of alien sensation within me, like a solitary rogue sock in my underwear drawer. It was easy to ignore because it was tucked away doing nothing, but from the first moment I had become aware of it, I had identified it with Jack. It felt similar in some way to what I had felt when he had drawn me to him, but nowhere near as powerful. Which was not to say that it could not become that powerful again. It was like a standby light on a TV, letting you know that the TV was off but all it would take was the touch of a button to turn it back on again. Jack could call me when he wanted me and this pocket of sensation was why – something he had implanted within me when he had first bitten me, tied somehow to my ancestry.
The question was; could I turn it on myself?
In the event, it was surprisingly easy. I knew where the feeling was, all I had to do was concentrate on it. When I did that, I realized that my standby light analogy was not quite right. It was more like a volume control – the call of Jack was always there, but currently the volume was too low to hear. Jack had turned it up to deafening, but I found that I could increase it just a little, just enough.
I opened my eyes. “It works.”
“You know where he is?” Despite all his reservations, Connery was still excited.
“No, but I know which way to go.” As it had been before, the sensation manifested as a tug, pulling me along to where, I assumed, Jack was.
We headed west. The sensation pulled me as the crow flies, which, of course, was not a travel option, but as long as I kept the volume low, it didn’t bother me too much, just as long as we were going roughly the right way.
“Should be going more that way,” I pointed out of the tinted window of the car.
“It’s that clear?” asked Connery as he drove.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I think we’ll stick to the motorway if that’s okay with you. The farmer who owns that field might not like it if I drive straight across. Should I take the next exit?”
“I…” It wasn’t a map in my head telling me wher
e we were going, just a sense of direction, like how your feet somehow guide you home even when you’re too drunk to see straight. “I’ll have to let you know when we get there.”
Connery nodded. “Okay. If you can’t make up your mind when you get there then we’ll reconsider the cross-country option.”
“Will do.” I smiled. He was making an effort, but the fact that it was clearly an effort was frustrating.
“So,” Connery began again after a pause, “how does it feel?”
I thought about the question. “Like having a GPS with a will of its own inside my head.”
“Weird.”
“Right?”
Another pause and I knew he was trying to find a way of asking what he wanted to know and yet still seem like he was cool with this.
“Do you get any sense of him – of Jack?”
“You mean… does the GPS speak with Jack’s voice?”
“If you like.”
“No.”
“No?”
I tried to put myself in his place. If he had spent a month as the guest of a beautiful woman who drank his blood and seemed to be in his head, and who, even after they had been separated still seemed to whisper to him inside his mind, then how would I feel? I’d feel jealous was how I would feel.
“There’s no sense of him at all. It’s like having a magnet inside me, pulling me along. It’s weird but impersonal.”
“And yet you know it’s him.”
I did. “Yeah. I guess. But…” I sighed. “I don’t know how I know. Maybe a vampire would know how, maybe a vampire would react differently or… Take the exit.”
As ever, I couldn’t describe the feeling but I knew that it was taking me this way. The course correction had come at a good time because Connery snapped back into resistance fighter mode and it was nice to be reminded that he was a smart and dedicated one.
“Right way now?”
“Yeah.” For practically the first time since we set off, the internal GPS that Jack had somehow installed inside of me seemed to lead right down the middle of the road before us.
The King of Clubs 3 Page 4