“No, it is. Everyone enjoys beer. And, it is quite nutritious in its most basic form. Like liquid bread.”
“Um, I guess. Look, you don’t answer any of my questions and I don’t feel like killing time in a pub learning about beer. I think I’m just going to split, okay?” She stood up but stopped when she heard him chuckle.
“I’ve been a vampire for over five hundred years. Almost six, actually. I can blot out my markers by simply concentrating. I mentally strip them away like a coat.”
She turned to him and sank back down. “Almost six hundred years?”
“Yes, I was turned during an outbreak of the small pox in 1443. Not too far from here. That’s why I retain a certain fondness for this area. It’s home.”
“Is your maker still around?”
“Alas, no. She died in the Great Fire.” His face shadowed with sadness but it faded. “I still miss her.”
“So you’ve been alone all this time?”
Tracy put the pint down in front of Knox and walked off.
“No. Unlike your maker, I tend to seek the company of our kind. I’ve also had a few human companions. Tracy there, for one.”
“Really?” She watched the girl talk to the other couple. “How does that work exactly?”
He took a long drink and appeared puzzled. “Just like any other boyfriend-girlfriend relationship.”
She shook her head. “No, not that. I mean, she knows you’re a vampire, right?”
“Of course. I feed exclusively from her.”
Lauryl looked from him to Tracy and then back to him. “She’s okay with that?”
“What’s not to be okay with?”
“You’re dead. You’re a vampire.”
He smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Did you tell her or did she find out? How did it happen?”
Knox tilted his head to the side and studied her. “We met at a club. There are a few underground clubs here in London where humans can meet vampires.”
“No shit?”
“Tell me, Lauryl, what do you know of being a vampire?”
“Eamon doesn’t tell me much, even when I ask. I don’t even know how old he is. I only know that he can move in the daytime. And then the basics.”
“So he’s a day-walker? No wonder he moves so naturally among humans.”
“Can you go out during the day?”
“No, I can’t. Not every vampire can. It is a power only a few have. Usually, only the vampires made by a day-walker can, but not always. Can you?”
Lauryl shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried. He hasn’t told me how to do it.”
“Well, best not to try then. It would be painful and quite messy.” Knox finished his beer. “I wonder why your husband hasn’t told you very much about being a vampire.”
She frowned. “I don’t know. It’s probably another way he can control me.”
“Why?”
She shrugged again. “I didn’t want to be a vampire. He tricked me. I just wanted to dance. But he had a hard on for me and now I’m a vampire.”
“Really?” His eyes widened.
Lauryl nodded. That wasn’t entirely accurate. She’d adjusted to being a vampire and even found pleasure in it some days. Reconnecting with Anthony gave her the happiness and peace she yearned for, but Eamon ruined that. He snatched that away with the same selfish authority he used to control the rest of her life. She didn’t hate being a vampire. She hated being Eamon’s vampire prisoner.
“Maybe if you knew more about being a vampire, you might enjoy it more.”
“Why are you talking to me? I mean, you don’t know me.”
He laughed. “I’ve seen you out before and have wanted to talk to you. Of course, I was surprised and somewhat intimidated when I heard who your maker was.”
“How did you know who my maker was?”
“Well, for one, I feel his marker in you. And vampires do like to talk. Despite your maker choosing isolation, other vampires can feel his presence and power when he is around. He causes quite a stir when he comes to town. Rather like a celebrity. He just ignores other vampires.”
Lauryl found what he was saying hard to believe. Why was Eamon so popular? She frowned.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you because you seemed to be an interesting sort. And you’re beautiful.”
“This all sounds like bullshit to me.” She sat forward on the sofa, ready to leave. She was done with him and his simplistic answers and chipper vampire talk.
“It isn’t. At first, I thought you were alone since you hunt alone and I know what it is like to be alone as a vampire.”
“I may as well be alone.” Lauryl looked at her wedding ring. “Eamon hardly gives me a second thought.”
“Like I said before, I don’t know your maker, but I can assure you that he does give you a second thought. You have his blood in you and you’re part of him. You can’t change that.”
“I knew you worked for him!” She shot to her feet. “Slick. You tell me a thing or two about being a vampire and then steer it back to show me what an awesome guy Eamon is and how being a vampire is super swell. Nice talking to you, Knox. If that’s your real name.” She pushed past Tracy and down the stairs, her heels clopping against the wood floor. She bolted through the pub door and back onto the street. The din of the road noise and people on the sidewalk drowned out her racing thoughts. She stepped off the curb and into the path of a speeding Audi. The tires screeched to a halt and she looked at the driver.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she said, her southern accent sounding through.
The man driving rolled down his window. “That’s a good way to get yourself killed. You need to watch the traffic. Are you okay? What’s the hurry?”
Lauryl put her hand on her chest and walked to the window. “I’m hungry and my mind isn’t on what it should be on,” she said.
“What should it be on?” he asked.
“It should be on finding out the name of the handsome man who didn’t run me over.”
“My name’s Tom. And you are?”
“Lisa. Sorry about running out in front of you.”
“Can I offer you a lift?”
Lauryl smiled radiantly at him. “That would be fantastic,” she said as she got in the car.
As Tom put the car in drive, Lauryl noticed Knox standing in front of the pub. He nodded to her but she ignored him. Stupid spy of Eamon’s.
I’m not a spy, she heard in her mind. I’m simply someone who wants to be your friend. And you can use one.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The World as a Vampire Is Much Wider Than You Think
In the weeks following her encounter with Knox, Lauryl avoided Wardour Street. She stayed close to Whitehall and Westminster, though. The historic district charmed her and it was full of a wide variety of people. She developed a taste for MP’s and staffers working late in the various ministries. Their sometimes-offensive taste made a tolerable meal. They always left their offices late, horny and armed with poor judgment. However, she was tired of them and decided to return to her preferred spot. No spy of Eamon’s would prevent her from eating where she wanted.
As she strolled along, part of her remained on guard for Knox. She hadn’t seen him or felt him but she knew he was around. This was his home. It still puzzled her that he could “blot out his markers” like he did. It was effortless for him. She wanted to ask Eamon how a vampire could do something like that but didn’t want to admit that she had met one of his operatives.
Lauryl walked past the light pole where she had first seen him and took a guarded look around. She continued on, half-looking for her dinner and half-looking for Knox. She turned from Gerrard Street on to Wardour Street and found herself in front of Waxy’s Little Sister. Right away the marker of an older vampire pelted her like warm raindrops. She looked around but didn’t see any vampires.
Maybe it was a trace marker, the marker a vampire left behind after departing an area.<
br />
No sooner had she finished the thought when she felt the even more powerful marker of another older vampire.
“Glad to see you back,” Knox said as he sauntered through the pub’s red door. “This is her, Bernard,” he said to the stocky, well-dressed man with salt and pepper hair that followed him.
The older vampire surveyed Lauryl. “You’re as thin as a reed.” He looked back at Knox. “You can tell she was a dancer.”
Lauryl remained frozen in her spot. Knox stood on one side of her and the older vampire the other. Their markers were so intense together that they were almost suffocating. Did the older vampire work for Eamon also? she wondered.
“For the last time, Lauryl, I don’t work for Eamon. I’ve never met him.” Knox smiled but Lauryl was dubious. “This is a good friend of mine, Bernard Townsend.”
Lauryl extended her hand to the older vampire and did a sloppy curtsey. She had no clue if there was some sort of vampire etiquette she was supposed to be following. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine. Knox told me all about you.” Bernard grinned at her.
“I bet he did,” she said. Bernard had kind eyes, Lauryl thought. Endearing.
“Oh, it was all flattering. He was quite taken with you. I think he felt sorry for you,” Bernard said.
“Why would he feel sorry for me?”
Bernard wrapped his arm around her in a paternal gesture. “I think he thought you were like a lost puppy and wanted to help you.”
She tried to squirm away from Bernard. Eamon would be enraged to see another man, let alone another vampire hugging her like that. “A puppy?”
“A lost puppy,” Bernard corrected.
“Shall we go back into Waxy’s or should we continue on to Nightshade?” Knox asked.
“Well, first we should discover whether or not we’ll have a guest with us.” Bernard looked at Lauryl.
“What? I don’t know where it is.”
Knox patted her on the back. “We’ll show you. I think you’ll enjoy yourself.”
Bernard’s arm tightened around her shoulder.
“Yeah, okay,” she said.
A black cab pulled up and the three of them climbed in the back. Lauryl was surprised they were taking a cab. Knox and Bernard had to have money. It was odd they would use something as public as a taxi.
“My dear, not everything is as it appears on the surface,” As he said it, the cab driver turned and smiled a fang studded smile. “Miles is also a vampire and often shuttles us to Nightshade.”
Lauryl looked closer at the cab driver. He couldn’t be any older than eighteen. He still had braces on his lower teeth and a retainer on the top. His shock of red hair didn’t add any age to his appearance. How ferocious could he be?
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Forty-seven,” Miles replied.
“No, I mean in real life years.”
“We refer to that age as chronological years, Lauryl,” Knox said.
“Whatever.”
“I’m nineteen.”
“Oh my God, you’ve had braces that long?” Lauryl wrinkled her nose up.
“No, you daft cow. I’ve only had them a month.” Miles hit the accelerator and the cab shot off. “I wanted to make a few adjustments in my appearance. I had crap teeth as a human and wanted a change. No sense in having lovely fangs in a mouth full of snagglers.”
Lauryl bristled at Miles. “Since I just met you, how about you don’t call me a cow, okay chompers?”
“Children, let’s not argue,” Bernard said.
“Well nobody calls me a cow.” Lauryl crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m certain that Miles didn’t mean to imply that you were a cow. That’s simply a British slang term.”
“Whatever.”
Knox laughed. “I’m so pleased that you came back by Waxy’s. I’ve missed you these past weeks.”
She shifted in her seat. “I didn’t want to see you. I thought you worked for Eamon.”
“You have trust issues that you should work on.” Knox poked her arm.
“Since this happened to me, I don’t trust anyone.” Especially vampires, she thought.
“Vampires are the ones you should trust the most,” Bernard said as he looked out of the cab window. “Knox told me that you don’t like your maker. I find that interesting.”
“Why?” she asked.
“The relationship between a maker and their offspring is typically a loving one,” Bernard said.
“Mine must not know that.”
Knox and Miles snickered. Lauryl shot a look at the back of Miles’ head before she leaned forward and thumped him. He turned back to her and rubbed where she thumped.
“Still,” Bernard said. “His bond to you is undeniable. Technically, the three of us should not even be talking to you without asking his permission.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“There are very few written vampire laws but there are several unwritten ones. One being that until a maker gives you permission or freedom to function independently; you must always seek his permission to associate with other vampires. Most makers grant it immediately, but yours is known to be very possessive.”
“That’s putting it nicely. He’s a control freak.”
Bernard looked over at Knox. “I think with time you’ll understand more. Unfortunately, some things only time can teach.”
She shrugged and stared out the window. They were now down among the warehouses of northeast London. What could possibly be down here? she wondered. She felt random markers of vampires all around. She could feel them lingering in the shadows and in between the enormous warehouses along the river.
“What is down here is my club, Nightshade,” Bernard said.
“You have a club?”
“Remember when I was telling you about clubs where humans and vampires could meet? Well, that’s what Bernard has in Nightshade,” Knox volunteered.
“Really?”
“The world as a vampire is much wider than you think,” Bernard said.
Lauryl’s world was narrow. Since Irina died, there were no vampires in Eamon’s and her world. Their world only contained humans. There was Grant, who she hated, the people from the dance company, the assorted humans Eamon employed, and up, until they left for London, Anthony. Now she had these vampires in her circle; vampires who owned clubs and had powers that differed from Eamon’s. Vampires she didn’t want Eamon to know about. She didn’t care if there was some vampire law about associating with other vampires. Obviously, Knox and Bernard didn’t care.
“Miles, pull around to the back so Lauryl can see where she may enter the building,” Bernard said. He smiled at Lauryl. “It doesn’t look like much but it’s much more inside.”
Lauryl agreed. They pulled behind a huge, rusted warehouse that resembled the other warehouses around. She could hear house music inside and felt vampires all around her. She noticed a doorway under a set of rusty stairs and a thin, dark-skinned man leaning against the wall. He straightened up when he saw the cab approaching.
Miles rolled the window down. “Evening, Jeremy, got Mr. T and Mr. S in the back.”
“Right on,” Jeremy said opening the back door. He bowed his head to Bernard and Knox as they got out and whistled softly when Lauryl swung her legs out of the cab. “Sorry, didn’t know you were in there.”
“Yeah, I forgot about her,” Miles said. “Oy, no hard feelings, ginger.”
Lauryl smiled at the goofy, red-haired vampire. “Be good, brace face.”
Miles laughed. “Good one.”
Bernard laced Lauryl’s arm through his. “What I have here, my dear, is not only a gold mine but also a luncheonette of sorts.” They walked through the door and down a dark hallway. “Humans love vampires as much as we love them.”
“More so,” Knox said.
They walked through another door and the industrial hallway turned into a mahogany-paneled corridor. She could f
eel vampires somewhere beyond the wall where the techno music pulsed. Their markers weren’t as powerful as Bernard and Knox’s. The vampires in the club were newborns like her.
They continued to a door and Knox entered a code into an electronic lock. The door clicked open and the music became louder. She could hear laughter in the hall and smelled blood mixed with beer. Obviously, a vampire was feeding somewhere close by. A female vampire with long legs and strawberry blonde hair hurried down the hall toward them.
“Sorry, gentlemen, I was mired down in something in the club.” The woman lowered her head to Knox and Bernard and looked Lauryl in the eye. She beamed and extended her hand. “I’m Phyl. Phyllida, actually, but no one calls me that.”
Lauryl shook her hand. “Lauryl.”
“I know who you are. I saw you dance about five years ago in New York. You had lovely feet and technique.”
Lauryl frowned and pulled her hand back. “Oh.”
Bernard put his arm around Lauryl. “Phyl was also a dancer in her human life. She danced in London before the war.”
“Sadler’s Wells, but I met Knox during an air raid in 1940 and that was that,” she said.
She kissed Knox on the cheek and turned back to Lauryl. “I missed ballet at first but then I found that there was so much more in the world.”
“Shall we?” Bernard asked.
“Is the club full this evening, Phyl?” Knox asked.
“Close enough. It’s early still.”
They walked down the hall and Bernard stopped abruptly, bringing the other three to a stop. “What is Micah Rollins doing in my club?”
Lauryl looked around but saw no one else.
Phyl gave Bernard a nervous smile. “Sir, he must have slipped by one of the humans on the door. I’ll have him removed.”
“No,” Bernard said and opened the door. “Bring him in to me.” Phyl disappeared and Bernard flipped the light on and walked into the office. “Please come in.”
A huge saltwater aquarium with a small shark swimming in it dominated one of the walls. She walked closer to it and peered at the fish.
“That’s Margaret Thatcher,” Knox said. “Bernard raised it from a hatchling.”
Life in Moonlight: The Primigenio Tales: Book 1 Page 13