New Order

by Helen Harper

  ‘I should stay. I don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘I won’t. Just go.’

  Michael’s face is thunderous.

  ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ D’Argneau says hastily. ‘Give me a call in a day or two, Bo.’

  I hear his footsteps as he leaves but I keep my eyes trained on Michael, where the danger lies.

  ‘You can’t do this.’

  His shoulders tense and I watch him track D’Argneau’s figure as the lawyer gets into his car.

  ‘Michael, he’s not done anything wrong.’

  ‘You called him Harry,’ he snaps

  ‘So?’

  ‘Are you fucking him?’

  ‘Bloody hell! No, I’m not.’

  He towers over me. ‘You almost did before.’

  ‘Key word,’ I tell him. ‘Almost. And I was under a lot of stress then.’

  ‘You’re under a lot of stress now. You’ve got PTSD. He could be taking advantage of you.’

  Goddamnit. ‘He’s not.’ I put my hands on my hips. ‘You can’t tell me what to do because I am no longer one of your vampires. And I’m not some weak little girl who needs you to step in and act like my bloody father!’

  He stills. ‘Your father?’

  ‘It’s like I’ve been out on a date and you’re waiting up!’

  He steps towards me. ‘Is that how you think of me?’ he asks quietly. ‘Like I’m your father?’

  ‘No, but you need to stop acting as if you are. I don’t need you to look after me!’

  His eyes gleam. ‘Because you’re a big strong vampire girl now?’

  ‘Exactly!’

  ‘Then let’s see about that.’

  I blink. ‘Excuse me?’

  He points behind me in the direction of Hyde Park. ‘You and me, girlie girl. Right there.’

  ‘You want to fight?’

  He circles me like a predator. ‘Damn right, I do.’

  My mouth is dry. ‘Then let’s do it in the sparring room.’ Where you’re less likely to kill me because there’ll be witnesses.

  ‘The sparring room is for Montserrat vampires.’ He stops and bends down to my ear. ‘You’re not Montserrat.’

  I clench my teeth, realising there’s now an audience watching us from across the road: several Montserrat faces are staring, wide-eyed. Perhaps he’s right.

  ‘Fine,’ I snap. ‘Let’s go.’ I vault back into the park and stride towards a clearing. I take off my leather jacket and hike up the dress so it’s around my hips and I can manoeuvre more easily. Michael joins me, pulling his T-shirt over his head and baring his torso. He cocks his head and smiles, without humour.

  ‘Let’s dance, little girl.’

  I don’t waste time and launch myself at him, aiming high. He sidesteps neatly. ‘Too easy,’ he growls.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ I kick, snapping my heel into his shin. I’m rewarded with a groan. He throws a punch, connecting with my chest and sending me flying backwards onto the grass. I spring up. ‘Is this how you get your kicks, my Lord? Beating up weak little fledglings?’

  He snarls and tries again but this time I block him and swipe my elbow into his side.

  ‘I thought you said you weren’t weak,’ he says, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me forward.

  I use my feet to launch off his hard body and flip backwards, somersaulting away from his grip. I punch again but he catches my fist in mid-flight.

  ‘I seem to recall the last time we did this, I had you in about two seconds flat,’ he informs me.

  I wrench away. ‘You mean in the hospital when I was still human. You’re forgetting I body-slammed you in your own office.’

  He snatches hold of my arms. I try to kick but, when that doesn’t work, I use my knee instead, jerking it upwards towards his groin. I think I’ve missed and hit his thigh but he moans in pain and collapses. Alarmed, I bend over. ‘Are you…?’

  He pulls the collar of my dress, yanking me on top of him. Then he rolls so we switch places. My back is on the ground while he manoeuvres his legs on either side of mine. I try to pummel him but he catches my hands easily and pushes them down.

  ‘Classic mistake,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t let your opponent fool you into thinking they’re down.’

  I kick upwards so I can free myself but I’m trapped. ‘You play dirty.’

  He lowers his face. ‘You bet I do, Bo. Do you want to know the real reason why I was so keen for you to leave the Family?’

  I stare into his glittering eyes. ‘You couldn’t stand the competition?’

  He laughs. ‘Hardly. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to obey me in all things. Because when I do this, I want to know that you respond of your own free will.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘This,’ he breathes. Then he kisses me.

  Heat flickers in my belly. Without thinking, I twine my fingers into his hair and moan. He groans in return and deepens the kiss. His mouth is hot and tastes faintly of brandy. I feel my heart thudding while his body presses into mine. Releasing one hand, he cups my face and lifts himself up half a foot.

  ‘Do you still think me of as your father now?’

  I don’t answer. Instead, I trace the tattoo on his chest, brushing his nipple with a feather-light touch. He sucks in a breath. Then there’s a loud cough from behind us. Michael swears. He gets to his feet, pulling me with him, and clears his throat.

  ‘What is it?’

  I step away, flushed and hot. Ria emerges, avoiding looking directly at us. ‘My Lord, there’s a problem.’

  ‘Go on.’ There’s an undercurrent of frustration in his voice.

  ‘It’s one of the vampette clubs. There was a fight and the police got involved.’

  ‘I’ll be right there,’ he snarls.

  She bows her head then almost runs back towards the mansion.

  ‘I have to deal with this,’ Michael tells me.

  ‘I know.’

  He retrieves his T-shirt and puts it back on. ‘Will you go to my apartment? Can you wait for me there, Bo?’

  I nod mutely. He gives me a half-smile in return. He lowers his head and plants another quick kiss on my lips. ‘This isn’t over,’ he promises. Before I can reply, he vanishes into the night.

  Chapter Fifteen: Cuffed

  I’m painfully aware of Michael asleep in the bed next to me. He didn’t come home until some point during the day when I was out for the count. I woke up briefly when he curved an arm round my waist and pulled me against him. Unfortunately I can’t sleep like that and at some point I moved away. I’m wide awake now but I can’t decide whether to stay until he wakes up or get up. The knock at the door makes up my mind for me.

  Gingerly, I pull myself free from the sheets, trying to stay as quiet as possible. I slept in one of Michael’s shirts. It reaches almost to my knees so, after a quick check in the mirror to make sure I’m decent, I tiptoe to the door.

  Connor’s grinning face greets me. ‘I thought you’d be here!’ he says loudly.

  I shush him. He winks and holds out his arm. Eyeing it as if it’s an unexploded grenade, I eventually sigh and drink my fill. Nausea overtakes me and I’m unsure if I will keep down the precious blood. I dash to the kitchen sink. Damn it. This is supposed to get easier, not harder.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Connor asks, concerned.

  I take a deep breath, not trusting myself to speak, and nod. After several more deep breaths, I turn to him. ‘Why do you do this?’ He looks puzzled. ‘Offer yourself up as food. Why do you do it? What do you get out of it?’

  ‘I told you before. I want to.’

  I shake my head. I’m not going to let him get away that easily. Not this time. ‘I’m not buying it,’ I tell him.

  ‘It’s true. I get a kick out of it. Plus, I get paid for helping out. If I didn’t do this, I’d be on the dole. Not,’ he says in a rush, ‘that I’m doing it just for the money. Medici offered me a lot more money.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. Lord M
edici approached me,’ he says cheerfully. ‘He was very persuasive. Wanted me to come and join him. I’d have said yes if I wasn’t already with you guys.’

  I wonder if there’s something special in Connor’s blood. It doesn’t make sense for Medici to go after a Montserrat vampette. I’m about to ask him more questions when he says, ‘Some bad shit today.’

  I look at him questioningly. He passes over his phone, pointing at a news article. Five Montserrat vampires got into a fight with a group of humans. Tragically it turned nasty and two of the humans died from their injuries on their way to hospital. The police released the vampires into Montserrat custody and a spokesperson made it clear that the assailants would feel the full weight of vampire law. My stomach twists. I know what that means. I wonder if Michael will dole out the sentences himself.

  I rub my forehead. Why can nothing ever be cut and dried? From what I saw of the human protestors in Soho, I can imagine how things got out of hand – though that’s no excuse for murdering anyone. But the thought of the resulting executions horrifies me. On the one hand, those vampires could be ex-criminals who should have known better than to get into a fight with humans. On the other… I sigh. Things were a damn sight easier when I was human.

  I pass back Connor’s phone. ‘I’ve got a message for you,’ he says. ‘Someone called Frolic? She called the mansion and asked for it to be passed on. She’s decided that time is a factor and you either bring the documents to her before dawn or she’ll find someone else.’

  I curse silently. She’s trying to push me into making up my mind. I’m annoyed. I also fail to see what the hurry is.

  ‘Thanks,’ I tell him.

  He beams. ‘Should I go back to the mansion and tell Matt to wait for you?’

  I think about it. I can’t cope with Frolic’s demands just yet. Since all the names on Templeton’s list are apparently not involved in Dahlia’s disappearance, I should get on with talking to her neighbours. It’s already after seven in the evening. If I wait much longer they won’t open their doors to answer questions. Especially when they see two vampires standing on the doorstep. It’ll be faster and easier if I do it on my own. Matt’s not all that strong as a vampire; he’ll be safer where he is. I don’t need anyone to feel threatened by his presence and be provoked into an attack, especially after the events earlier today. Sometimes there are benefits to being only five foot tall. Even as a bloodguzzler, people are less likely to view me as dangerous.

  ‘No,’ I tell him, ‘it’s okay. I don’t need him today.’

  His face clouds over. ‘Are you sure?’

  I nod, lead him to the door and gently push him out. Then I go back to the bedroom. Michael hasn’t stirred. I grab my clothes, take them to the living room and dress. Less than five minutes later, I’m out of the door.

  * * *

  When I arrive in the Templetons’ neighbourhood, I check their house. It still seems undisturbed since my last visit so I head to the well-lit home on the left. A child’s bike is propped against the wall, pink streamers tied to the handles. I don’t know if having kids inside will make the occupants more or less likely to talk to me. I ring their doorbell to find out. A harassed looking mother opens the door. ‘Yes?’

  I do my best to look friendly. ‘My name is Bo Blackman. I’m investigating the disappearance of Dahlia Templeton from next door.’

  There are several squawks from inside and a child’s yell, ‘Mum! Derek hit me!’

  The woman takes a deep breath, wiping her hands on her apron. She’s so distracted by her children that I don’t think she’s noticed I’m not human. ‘Are you police?’ she inquires.

  ‘No. I’m a private investigator.’

  There’s another barrage of shouts from within. She half turns and yells back, ‘Stop fighting and get your homework done!’ Then she sighs. ‘Do you have kids?’

  She’s definitely not spotted I’m a vampire. I shake my head.

  ‘Well, count yourself lucky.’

  Even though I know she doesn’t really mean it, I feel a bit sad. I stick to the topic, however. ‘Did you know Dahlia?’

  ‘Sure. We met up at least once a week for coffee. You know, when she wasn’t…’ her voice trails off.

  When it’s clear she’s not going to complete her sentence, I prompt her. ‘When she wasn’t what?’

  ‘Out.’

  There’s more to this than meets the eye. ‘Out doing what?’

  ‘Look, it’s really none of my business,’ she begins.

  ‘Dahlia might be in danger,’ I say softly.

  She snorts. ‘The only danger Dahlia Templeton is in is not remembering which hotel she’s left her knickers in.’

  ‘She was having an affair?’

  The woman lowers her voice. ‘They were at it like rabbits. I can’t believe her husband never caught on.’

  ‘Do you know who the man is?’

  ‘Simon someone.’

  ‘Can you remember his last name?’

  There’s a scream. Her face twists. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go.’

  ‘Wait! His name?’

  She shrugs. ‘All I know is he’s a copper who works out of Belgrave. Now, I really do have to go.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I start to say, but she’s already closing the door.

  I rub my chin thoughtfully. Despite Stephen Templeton’s dodgy dealings, perhaps Dahlia’s kidnap is the result of her own actions. A jealous wife maybe? Or this Simon guy himself? It could even be Stephen Templeton: he might have found about the affair, killed her and made it look like an abduction. But why would he not tell the police if that was the case? It would make his story far more plausible.

  I switch to the house on the right, hoping I’ll be able to talk to someone who knows more about Dahlia’s extra-marital affairs. When this door opens, however, it’s a perky looking kid who answers. ‘Yes?’ Her mouth drops. ‘You’re a vampire! That’s so cool! I want to be a vampire when I grow up.’

  ‘Stella! What did I tell you about answering the door to strangers?’ A man appears, drying his hands with a towel. When he sees me he drops it. ‘Stella, go back into the house.’

  ‘But Dad…’

  ‘Now.’ She puts on a face but does as she’s told.

  I guess I’m no longer incognito. ‘Hi. I’m Bo Blackman. I’m here to investigate…’

  ‘You’re not welcome.’ He slams the door in my face.

  I grit my teeth and knock again. He opens it a crack. ‘We’ve got children! You need to get out of here before I call the police!’

  ‘I can’t come in unless you invite me, sir.’

  ‘I’m not fucking well inviting you!’ he hisses.

  ‘What I meant,’ I explain patiently, ‘is that even if I wanted to hurt you, I couldn’t because I can’t come in until you invite me.’

  His face pales. ‘Hurt us? What have we done to you?’

  ‘No, I…’

  He shuts the door again. Through the window I see him go to the phone and pick it up, and realise he’s making good on his threat. Arse. The police won’t arrest me but they’ll make damned sure I do nothing else to bother the good people of this neighbourhood. I wonder how they’ll react when they spot Templeton’s fake crime scene tape.

  There’s nothing else I can do here for now so I make myself scarce. I keep thinking about the look on Stella’s dad’s face when he realised that I was a vampire. Revulsion. Hatred. Fear. All the things I feel about myself.

  I remember that the Magix headquarters are between here and Belgrave police station. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a short stop, just in case.

  When I reach the imposing building, I take several minutes to walk round it. It’s a gleaming edifice of steel and glass, not dissimilar to where Streets of Fire is housed. The difference between the two is that the internet company purports to be run by humans, when in fact it’s run by the most terrifying of triber species, whereas Magix pretends it’s a triber corporation and, as far as I’ve uncovered so far, i
s actually wholly human. Ironically, the only group that’s honest about who they are and what they’re doing is the vampires ‒ and they’re the ones who are attacked for being evil.

  I’m tempted to try another covert entry. After all, the more I do, the better I’ll become. With Frolic’s unrealistic deadline looming over me, however, I decide against it. If she wants the information by dawn then she can damn well live with the methods by which I obtain it. I grin at the thought of her face if she knew what I was up to.

  I stride back to the front doors. The first five floors are given up to the Magix emporium and, unsurprisingly by this hour, they’re dark and closed. The floors higher up are still well lit, presumably occupied by another company that demands that its employees work late. It makes my life easier. I bang loudly and continuously on the reinforced glass door, startling several passers-by. I keep thumping my fist until a security guard appears, peering at me from the other side.

  ‘We’re shut,’ he mouths.

  My grin widens and I bare my teeth, allowing my fangs to grow. He jumps back.

  ‘I want to speak to the boss,’ I yell.

  He gestures rudely so I run my tongue over the sharp edges of my teeth as if promising further action. The guard disappears. I lift my fist and continue banging.

  It takes less than ten minutes. Eventually the guard returns with a buddy by his side – and a woman wearing a blush-pink trouser suit. On anyone else it would look ridiculous but her olive skin allows her to carry it off. She says something to the guards and they scowl, then one of them mutters into a radio. I hear a click as the front door is unlocked.

  I incline my head in acknowledgement. The woman pulls the door open; apparently she’s braver than the goons by her side. ‘May I help you?’

  I retract my fangs. ‘I would like to speak to whoever’s in charge.’

  ‘You can make an appointment for later in the week and I’m sure Mr Connell will be able to free up some time.’

  ‘I’m under time constraints. It’s imperative that I meet with him now.’

  ‘He’s not here.’

  I smile. ‘Really? Then whose limousine is parked round the back? The one with the rather distinctive number plate?’ I frown as if trying to recall, then snap my fingers. ‘MAG1X. That’s it.’