“Yes brother,” Kasper replied, cocking his head to one side. “You mean you’ve been watching her all these years and you never thought that Sophie was mine?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I considered it, of course I did, but there was no way of knowing, not without asking her, and, like I said, I didn’t want to disrupt her life. She seemed so settled.”
“I could tell,” Kasper said, sinking back into the torn up armchair. “Do you not think that she looks like me?”
Kurt frowned, deep in thought. “I think she looks like Julie. I see a lot of her in the girl.” He took a sip of whiskey. “The nose maybe? Yes, I think your nose.” Kurt’s heart sank. Perhaps, he thought, I’ve chosen to ignore it all these years; if she is Kasper’s child I will only ever be her uncle, any hope of something with Julie is over.
“I saw it immediately. That’s why I’m here. To find out if it’s true. I just want to know. I must ensure that she is okay, that she doesn’t need anything, that she is safe. “
“Safe?” Kurt asked with a half laugh. “You think that she will be safer with you being here, brother? You are a vampire! She would be safer if you stayed aware from her, surely?”
Kasper sighed. “You are probably right. But Sophie has come into contact with my kind before. I have to make sure that nothing else has happened to her, that she knows how to protect herself that she hasn’t been…”
“Turned?” Kurt interrupted. “Isn’t that the term you used? I very much doubt it. She seems like a perfectly normal, if not a little ordinary, young woman.”
“I think she is far from ordinary,” Kasper said.
“No, of course. “
“I don’t just mean that in a fatherly way,” Kasper remarked, his eyes transfixed on his brother’s. “Julie and I only made love once.”
Kurt shifted in his seat. “Kasper, I don’t need to know this.”
“Yes brother, you do.” Kasper rubbed his face with his hands before speaking again. “We only slept together the once, that was after I’d been bitten, and after Ferrers, the vampire who made me, had fed me his blood. I didn’t know that at the time, I was confused, dazed. I escaped and went looking for help. Julie was the first person I thought of. She took me in and, well, one thing led to another.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Kurt said frowning at his brother.
Kasper shook his head, looked at Kurt and raised his eyebrows.
“Oh my god! “You were already a vampire!”
“Not fully,” Kasper replied. “But in the early stages, yes. The transition hadn’t yet formally begun, that requires the consumption of blood, but the virus, or whatever you want to call it, was in my system.”
“So, what? You think that you have somehow transmitted it to Julie, to the baby?”
“If the child is mine, yes, maybe. It would be there in my DNA if there is such a thing for vampires.”
“But you were still human at the time. I’m not familiar with biochemistry or genetics and the like, but if your DNA was altered, then that would surely contribute to Sophie’s genetic make-up?”
“Science is your thing rather than mine brother, but I think you might be right.”
"If that is true, then we might have a bigger problem than the one we already have," Kurt said gravely.
"And that problem is what, brother?" Kasper asked. “That we are both in love with the same woman, but neither of us deserves her."
Kurt put down his glass of whiskey and expelled a short sharp breath through his nostrils. “There’s something you should see.”
“Yes, I saw it earlier, “said Kasper, looking at the manuscript. “ What is it? Something to do with your work?”
Kurt folded out the manuscript that he’d left on the dining table, picked up the bundle of notes next to it and fanned them all out. “Here,” he said, patting them down into place. “I don’t know what some of these figures mean, but I’ve translated the Latin text at least.”
Kasper’s eyes scanned the handwritten notes. “No, this isn’t right,” he said looking at his brother. “No, impossible.”
“I would have said that it was impossible that when I was finally reunited with my brother, that he would be vampire.” Kurt took a cigarette from the packet in his pocket and lit it. He took a long drag. “And despite my research all these years, I’m not sure that I ever thought it was possible that vampires existed and I would have one in the boot of my car either.”
“What does it mean?” Kasper asked. “Where is this document even from?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” Kurt replied between drags. “I was in Istanbul for a speaking engagement, just before Christmas. I was approached in one of the markets, a street peddler thought that I’d be interested in a private sale, something ‘off the books’ that he’d heard about. I was looking for objects of religious interest and those related to the occult and, you understand?”
Kasper noted the tribal mask hanging on the wall, the cracked ancient urn and small clay pots in a display cabinet in the corner. “Yes, you seem quite the collector.”
“A couple hours of later, I received a call to my hotel with instructions of where the sale would take place. I didn’t know what it would be exactly, but something of value and illegally obtained I guessed.”
Kasper didn’t look up from Kurt’s notes. “So where did it come from?” he asked.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. It’s old though, judging by the parchment. I recognised some of the symbols - I’ve seen them elsewhere, and places associated with outbreaks of suspected vampire activity.”
“You’re right,” Kasper said looking up at his brother. “I’ve seen some of these before. They are used to mark out places where vampires are welcome. I’ve seen a few in the Czech Republic, Belgium too.”
“Interesting,” Kurt said. “What do they mean?”
“I don’t know exactly, or rather what they originate from.” Kasper pointed to the manuscript. “This one here means something like ‘beware’. It might mean that a hunter is close by or that vampires are not safe in that place.” Kurt nodded, taking in his brother’s words. Kasper pointed to another image on the document. “This one here, this is almost like a coat of arms, a stamp almost.”
“A coat of arms?” Kurt asked. “Like for a family?”
“Yes. Our line can all be traced back to a handful of founding families, although they are so old that most of us don’t know what went before them. Before you ask, no I don’t know my lineage, but it will have started with one of them no doubt.”
Kurt sucked on his cigarette pensively. “So, what family does this refer to?”
“I’ve not seen many of these, just seen a few in Ferrers’ papers. But if my memory serves me correctly, then this relates to the Byzantines.”
“Good God.” Kurt reached for his whiskey glass before he remembered that he’d left it in the sitting room.
“Indeed,” Kasper said. “They are old and powerful and if this has anything to do with them, they’ll want it back.”
Kurt’s heart pounded into his rib cage. “What do we do?”
Kasper bit his lip and considered their options. “Do you think it’s genuine, Kurt? Do you think that what it’s saying is true?”
“What? That it’s a prophecy of some type? Perhaps, maybe some half-breed girl will be born; perhaps she will do something, what I don’t know. I think I need to sit down.”
Kurt walked through the french doors back to the sitting room and collapsed into the chair. Kasper freshened his whiskey from the decanter on the side table and handed him a glass. Kurt took it and quickly swallowed a glug.
“Look Kurt, I don’t know what the prophecy means, whether it's real or what special powers the girl it refers to could have. I’ve never heard anything about it before. But that’s not what’s important right now.”
Kurt nodded frantically. “No, of course, we must think about Sophie, what this means for her.”
“I’m gla
d we’re at least on the same page with that brother.” Kasper poured himself a drink and took a small sip. “I don’t know if it's talking about Sophie or even how that’s possible. I have never met anyone with any supernatural ability in all my years on this planet, so how anyone could predict this heaven only knows... if there is such a thing.”
“You don’t believe in the supernatural?” Kurt asked. “But you’re a vampire.”
“Yes, I’m a vampire, but I’m not psychic, I don’t leap over tall buildings, I don’t turn into a bat and fly about at night. I’m much like any human, except I need blood to survive. Biologically I’ve changed, that’s true. I don’t need to breathe, or sleep. My senses are a little sharper, but that’s just a trait of my nature, like a dog or a cat. The most remarkable thing about me is that unless someone kills me, destroys my brain stem, then I will forever.”
Kurt took as final drag on his Marlboro and threw the stub in the fire. “I would say that they are all fairly remarkable attributes,” he said.
“I suppose. But I don’t consider them supernatural in any way, or paranormal or anything else.” Kasper shrugged. “They are just symptoms of my condition.”
“So, do you think that it is talking about Sophie?” Kurt asked, sinking back into the chair.”
“I think it’s talking about a mixed race child and I believe that Sophie is one. I’m sure there must be others out there in the world.” Kasper returned to the leather chair he’d formerly occupied, his drink in his hand. “Whether it’s about Sophie and whether she has some sort of supernatural or superhuman power, I don’t know, but I do know that the very existence of that manuscript will put her in danger.”
Kurt watched the flames dance in the fireplace. I wish I’d never bought the blasted thing, he thought to himself; always looking for something interesting, to find out more. Thoughtless, I’m just thoughtless.
“Kurt?”
Kasper’s voice shook him from his stupor. “Sorry, I was just thinking. We must hide it, yes?”
“Perhaps. If anyone knows of this and puts two and two together about Sophie, then they’ll destroy her. Very few vampires would have an interest in seeing such a document come to light. The powerful ones will want to keep our existence discreet to ensure their position. If it’s been in the possession of the Byzantines, they’ll have kept it closely guarded and they may well come looking for it. If they think if there is any truth in it, then they’ll kill Sophie.”
“Oh God, what have I done?” Kurt muttered.
Kasper sipped his whiskey. “First I want to find out more about Sophie, find out if there could be any truth to this, and establish that she’s my daughter. Second, we need to find a way of getting the manuscript back to whoever owned it or we need to destroy it.”
Kurt peered at his brother over his spectacles. “I don’t even know how we’d begin to return it. Besides, perhaps we could use it as a bargaining tool if we needed to.”
“I think you should give it to me for safe keeping, brother,” Kasper said.
Kurt studied his brother’s face, so innocent-looking, but he had heeded his brother’s warning. Kasper was a vampire. Would he too want to destroy Sophie in order to maintain the status quo, to prevent his true nature from being revealed? Kurt didn’t want to think like that, but he knew he was wise to. If this document was of value, he was going to keep it safely in his own hands. “I think perhaps, that it’s safer here,” Kurt replied. “The farther away it is from you or Sophie the better. After all, if found on you for any reason, it wouldn’t take too long to establish your reason for having it – they’d start poking around, find out about Sophie. Me? I’m just a naive academic who picked something up without knowing its true value.”
“Yes, good idea,” Kasper said, meeting his brother’s eyes. “So, what shall we do in terms of finding out more about my potential daughter?”
Kurt’s brow furrowed. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I think that we should establish exactly what she is and how much she knows. I suspect that she’s as human and ordinary as I am.”
Kasper nodded.
Kurt continued, “We should keep an eye on her, even if for only a few days, just till we know a little more.”
“Spying is something you seem quite used to doing.” Kasper smiled dryly.
Kurt cheeks flushed. His throat tightened. “Yes, well I’ll try and do what I can. I have a light workload, so between lectures I can drive over and check on her.”
“Like you do Julie?” Kasper said. A smile was on his face, but there was a sharpness to his words.
“Look, I’ve told you, there’s nothing in that. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“I can take the night slot,” Kasper said, placing his glass neatly down at his feet on the marble hearth.
“The what slot?”
“I’ll be less conspicuous at night, should I come across Julie, you understand. I’ll watch Sophie’s at night. I tell you what, why don’t I check in on Julie too, that way you don’t have to bother yourself twice.”
“Fine,” Kurt said.
“Yes, fine.”
Kurt stood up and marched into the dining room.
Kasper watched him, folding away papers and wrapping up the manuscript in a muslin cloth. What a fine pair we make, he thought to himself - an old man, hardened by time and loneliness, and his kid brother frozen in time. What a mess we have made of our lives.
Kurt returned with the bundle of papers, rummaged around a bookcase in the corner and returned to the fireplace empty handed. “You will stay here with me?” he asked.
Kasper gazed at the fire. It would have been so easy to have said yes, to pretend like the years that had passed had not, that they were two students again, sharing a room in their parents’ house. “For tonight, but then I must return to Bethesda. I have accommodation there. My things are there.”
“I see. You are welcome here. Perhaps you should stay?”
“We’ll see. I will need to feed brother, and I would rather do that elsewhere.”
“Ah.” Kurt wasn’t sure if Kasper hated him, if he thought he might feed on him if left with him long enough, or that he was trying to show some degree of decorum by feeding elsewhere. “As you wish.”
“You should eat too,” Kasper said. “There’s food in your kitchen. Shall I make you something? A sandwich like mother used to make?”
For a moment, the two sat in silence. Kurt did not reply, the word mother hanging in the air oppressively, sublimating his hunger. Kasper closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the memory of his mother at the kitchen table, chopping tomatoes and buttering bread. It had been years since he’d thought of her.
The two brothers sat watching the fire die out. Before darkness enveloped the house in its cold embrace, they had formulated a plan.
16
Ferrers found the emptiness of his temporary home peculiarly reassuring. Richard had persuaded Ferrers to allow him to take Rachel out to feed. Rachel was wired tighter than a spring and if she didn't get at least the illusion of a hunt, she'd go to extreme measures. Picking up someone in a club, as she had done with him, was a safer option for everyone. They'd pick a couple up for partying, go back to theirs, feed and then leave them in bed with nothing more than stained sheets and a bad hangover.
Cruising bars was no longer Ferrers’ scene. He was happy to sit patiently at the 1950s kitchen table and watch the nocturnal activities of the garden through the window. The stillness of the night was disturbed only occasionally, by a city fox or a neighbourhood cat.
Ferrers had spent time in many cities over the centuries - Paris, Barcelona, Prague, and Copenhagen. None had felt particularly like home. Despite his travels, his years as torturer and enforcer for the old vampire families of Europe, he still preferred the quiet dignity of his family seat in the Warwickshire countryside.
It was ironic that he had even come to inherit his Warwickshire Manor. If he had stayed human and in the priesthood it w
ould have remained with his elder brother. His brother Henry had always been a selfish, odious toad. Henry, as first heir, had nothing to fear from Charles, but the civil war had forced everyone to pick a side. Henry had traded the true faith and betrayed his brother for security under the new protestant regime.
Henry kept his head and the Ferrers estate. Charles was sentenced to fire at the stake. Rather than being administered the last rites by what he thought was a Catholic priest, disguised as a gaoler, he was fed on and converted to vampirism. His vampire saviour helped him break free of his chains and to enact a bloody revenge upon his turncoat sibling.
In the absence of Henry having a male heir and with Ferrers declared a traitor, the family estate passed to a distant cousin. A few generations on, Charles returned to stake his claim on his inheritance with a wealth of forged records to prove it. It amused him greatly that in the eyes of the law, he was considered the descendant of his treacherous brother; the façade being based on the lie that Henry had a bastard by a common prostitute amused him immensely. Ferrers stopped counting the years after the first three centuries. It was closer to four hundred years ago now.
Despite the rooftops in the skyline, the telegraph poles and the satellite dishes, there was someone around this place that reminded Ferrers of home. It was a strange thing, enhanced by the presence of Rachel and Richard. They had been with him for a few short months and their connection was strong from the recent exchange of fluids. For some reason, the sire bond felt stronger than ever in their temporary home.
It couldn't have been the house. It was very unlike his country seat. The Victorian terrace consisted of three floors, four if you included a cellar. The decor told him that it had had its last major refurbishment in the seventies although it had been well-maintained. The whole house smelled vaguely musky but was neat, tidy and clean. The furniture was of good quality but old - an inconsistent mix of heavy G-Plan pieces, art deco classicism and modern flat-pack functionality.
Ferrers glanced at his watch - it wasn't even midnight. It would be hours before his protégés would return. It was while he pored over the pages of the ‘Sophie Morgan dossier’, considering what should be his best strategy for ensnaring her, that there came a strange vibration in his trousers. Somewhat bemused, he patted his leg and found the mobile telephone which Richard had persuaded him to carry.
Sophie Morgan (Book 2): Death in the Family Page 14