by Ian Jarvis
Lined with granite tenements, churches and taverns, the Royal Mile followed the crest of the volcanic hill from the castle parade ground down to Holyrood Palace. Rex saw the lower parts of many buildings had been opened as ornate tourist shops, their windows packed with Scottish souvenirs, Highland paintings and the ubiquitous tartan tins of shortbread. In place of the beggars and body-snatchers, international holidaymakers now filled the route.
The moon reappeared above the buildings, once again reminding Rex of the lycanthropy and the staggering way in which his life had changed. Unbelievably, he’d remain twenty-five forever, looking exactly as he did now, so it was a good thing Quist had bitten him when he did. He couldn’t imagine the nightmare of going through the centuries with unfashionable hair or an unsightly paunch, but thankfully he had a great physique, much of his university time having been spent in a health spa. Quist had covered this age problem in one of his stupid lectures. He’d warned how acquaintances become suspicious of an unchanging appearance and swapping identities was necessary, but perhaps this wouldn’t be such a dilemma in the twenty-first century. With modern surgery and chemical aids, Rex knew millionaire socialites with faces that hadn’t altered in decades. Then again, those faces did resemble weird plastic dolls.
Charlotte had turned the car down so many of the Old Town streets, Rex felt lost. Lost, thirsty and in need of a smoke. ‘These lovely old inns look amazing,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we get a drink somewhere?’
‘Sounds like a sensible idea,’ said Charlotte.
He lowered the sunglasses and smiled. ‘Maybe somewhere romantic and cosy?’
‘You are aware that you’re not exactly my type?’
‘You never know. I tend to grow on most young ladies.’
‘I doubt you’ll grow on this one. Maybe if you were more feminine and had a different set of genitalia.’
‘Ah, I love it when girls talk dirty.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Charlotte laughed and ran a hand through her ginger hair. She drove into Cowgate, a narrow street with tall buildings on either side. ‘Anyway, aren’t you dating the model from that reality show? I’ll literally eat shit for money, or some such rubbish? I read about it in the gossip columns.’
‘Andromeda? Not any longer. We broke up weeks ago.’
‘Too intellectual for you?’
‘No, to be honest, she was pretty stupid.’ Like Quist’s assistant, there were times when Rex wouldn’t recognise sarcasm if it walked up and kicked him between the legs. He spotted a nightclub on Brodie Street, a cul-de-sac leading off Cowgate. ‘Hey, stop and back up, would you? What do we have here?’
‘Club 69.’ Charlotte reversed and grimaced. ‘No, you don’t want to go in there. It’s a real shithole.’
‘Someone doesn’t think so.’ He nodded to the four Bentleys parked outside. ‘Come on. Let’s take a look.’
Shrugging, Charlotte turned in and parked her Mini behind the upmarket vehicles.
Rex climbed out and lit a cigarette. ‘Do you smoke?’ he asked, offering her the pack. He held out his lighter, making sure she saw the cool wolf’s head engraving.
‘No thanks. It’s one of the few bad habits I don’t have.’ She gestured to the Bentley rear windows. ‘Ah, I might have known; these cars are rented. Do you see the discreet stickers? It’s a local company called Tartan Prestige, but I’ve never seen so many together.’
Rex puffed on the tobacco and stared up at the ancient canopy of wrought iron and coloured glass that extended over the pavement offering shelter to queuing customers. It probably sported the original name of the building, but this was hidden with a tacky Club 69 neon sign and various posters advertising Happy Hour and other drinking promotions. From what he’d heard about the Scots, they wouldn’t need much incentive to get pissed. He half-smoked his cigarette before paying the entrance fees, taking Charlotte’s arm and strolling into the dimly-lit club.
‘Hey, this was once a fancy old place,’ said Rex, looking around and raising his voice above the throbbing music. He recognised the track as Born Slippy, the old hit by the group Underworld. ‘What did it used to be?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Charlotte. ‘A theatre, I guess.’
The huge room had two rows of fluted Greek columns, their Corinthian capitals supporting a lofty ceiling richly painted with cherubs playing instruments. The ornate décor had long since passed its best. Decades of cigarette smoke had left these celestial musicians with olive brown faces and Rex felt they’d now look more at home selling kebabs than strumming lyres. The pair made their way through the crowd to a counter where they caught the eye of a young barman.
‘What can I get you?’ Rex asked Charlotte.
‘Oh, I’m cheap to take out.’ She nodded to one of the pumps. ‘Just a half of McEwan’s, please.’
‘A half for the lady,’ said Rex. ‘I’ll have a Lobo.’ He turned to the girl and smiled smugly. ‘That means wolf in Latin.’
The barman looked puzzled. ‘Don’t you mean Spanish?’
Rex gave a contemptuous grunt. ‘So the barmen here are experts in Latin and Spanish, huh?’
‘Some of them are.’ The youth nodded. ‘The language students, like myself, who work here part-time are. So what exactly is a Lobo?’
‘A cocktail.’
‘A Lobo cocktail? Er...’
‘One part whisky,’ sighed Rex. ‘Two parts vermouth over ice.’
‘Isn’t that a Manhattan?’
He grimaced. ‘Okay, so put in three parts vermouth. There... that’s a Lobo.’
Rex and Charlotte turned to watch the dance floor as the barman busied himself with the drinks. Several dozen young people were moving to the pulsating electronic music, but a natural gap had formed around two petite girls in the centre of the throng. Both wore identical black mini dresses and appeared to be the focus of everyone’s attention. The girl facing Rex had an elfin face with short silvery hair, and he caught his breath as her companion turned.
‘What?’ he gasped. ‘That can’t possibly be who I think it is?’
‘It can and it is.’ Charlotte’s mouth fell open. ‘Oh my God, that’s Ligeia.’
Chapter 6
Rex paid the nightclub barman for the drinks and turned to stare at the two young women on the dancefloor. ‘Wow, this is unexpected, to say the least,’ he said, lowering his sunglasses to see better in the dim, blue-tinted lighting. ‘Ligeia is the biggest star in the music world right now. Do they often get singers like her in here?’
‘Take a look around this dump,’ said Charlotte. ‘Then take a wild guess.’
‘So what the hell...’
‘I can’t believe it either.’ Charlotte shook her head in amazement, unable to take her eyes off the tiny girl. Ligeia’s female companion was dancing slowly behind her, caressing the singer’s waist and kissing her naked shoulders and throat. ‘She gave a concert at the Murrayfield Stadium last night; that’s why she’s in Edinburgh. I tried to get tickets online, but they sold out within minutes of going on sale.’
‘I’m guessing the Bentleys outside must belong to her entourage.’
‘Definitely, but what on earth is she doing in this hole? Of all the places to go clubbing in the city, she came here?’
Rex watched the girls gyrating sensually to the hypnotic Born Slippy music track. Ligeia looked to be around five feet tall in her stilettoes, with short, glossy black hair and chocolate-tanned skin, her silk mini dress exposing her entire back and smooth naked legs. Her companion was the same petite size, with similar elfin features and silvery hair. He stared wide-eyed as Ligeia gave her girlfriend a lingering kiss on the mouth, before slowly sinking into a squat and rising to repeat the kiss, the erotic dance move almost revealing her buttocks. Rex swallowed awkwardly and sipped the Lobo cocktail to moisten his dry mouth. Peering at their identical blac
k attire, he saw there were no tell-tale signs of underwear beneath the tight designer silk. Enhanced lycanthropic vision certainly came in useful on occasions.
He cleared his throat and leant close to Charlotte. ‘They’re both absolute stunners,’ he said. ‘I just wish Ligeia’s voice matched her looks.’
‘What?’ The girl’s mouth fell open. ‘You are joking?’
‘No, I don’t rate her as a singer. To be honest, I wouldn’t go to see her if you gave me a free ticket.’
‘Incredible,’ laughed Charlotte. ‘You have to be the only person I’ve ever met who has no musical taste.’
‘Each to their own.’ Rex watched the sensuous dance. ‘But she really is gorgeous and I love the name Ligeia, like Princess Ligeia in Star Trek. I think I’ll set my sex appeal phaser to stun and beam myself over there.’
‘I think you mean Princess Leiah, not Ligeia. And she was in Star Wars, not Star Trek.’
‘Never argue with a movie expert.’ Rex gave a condescending smile. ‘I know which franchise is which. Captain Kirk was in Star Trek. Jean Luc Picard was in Star Wars.’
‘Er...’ Charlotte hesitated. ‘Yeah, whatever.’
‘Not only a movie expert, but a gentleman too.’ Rex downed his cocktail and handed her the empty glass. ‘It would be ungentlemanly and downright rude to leave Ligeia dancing with some girl. Why dance with a girl when there are guys like me around?’
‘Yeah, right,’ laughed Charlotte. ‘She’s clearly having an awful time with her friend there. You’d better go save her.’
Winking and adjusting his sunglasses, Rex strolled onto the dance floor and moved through the crowd to the girls. Two large men in suits immediately appeared on either side of him and grabbed his arms tightly. From their vice-like grip and threatening demeanour, they probably weren’t hoping for a smooch. He gave Ligeia a beaming white smile and raised his eyebrows above the shades.
‘I was thinking we might have a dance,’ he shouted over the electronic beat. ‘But these guys don’t seem keen on the idea. I take it they’re with you?’
‘Let him go,’ said Ligeia, smiling sweetly at the two giants. Her foreign accent was difficult to place. ‘I like him.’
‘Well, you obviously have great taste,’ said Rex. He waited until the bodyguards had left before moving closer and dancing with the petite girls. Ligeia’s silver-haired companion eyed him sexily. ‘I thought they were going to wrestle me to the floor.’
‘They probably would have done,’ admitted Ligeia, giggling childishly. ‘They’re my manager’s friends. They watch me all the time.’
‘Visits to the bathroom must be interesting.’
Rex saw her two security personnel take up a vantage position at the edge of the dancefloor next to an attractive middle-aged woman. Smartly-dressed in a sophisticated suit, she wore a black patch over her left eye and stood chatting to a large muscular man with a shaven head. A slender black character stood beside the pair, staring intently at Rex in a way that left him slightly uncomfortable.
‘Which one of the Three Amigos is your manager?’ he asked. ‘Larry, Moe or Curly?’
Ligeia gestured to the one-eyed woman with the sleek dark hair. ‘Irana is my manager. The others are her friends: Mister Lafont and Sergeant Gruner.’
‘To be truthful, they don’t concern me,’ said Rex. Now aware of her bodyguards, he spotted another five obvious types stationed at intervals around the dancing crowd. ‘Nothing concerns me when I’m with the two most beautiful little ladies in Edinburgh.’
Cringe-making as the chat-up line was, Rex wasn’t exaggerating; close-up, these girls really were incredible. He’d assumed Ligeia was tanned, but now saw it was her natural dusky skin colouring. This, coupled with her sexy accent and jet black hair had him wondering if she was Mediterranean. Her friend had the same flawless skin and both were the same height and stature, with sparkling pale blue eyes and striking elfin features. They could easily be sisters.
‘This is my very best friend Elva.’ Ligeia twirled around, then leant forward and kissed her silver-haired companion slowly and deeply. ‘I’m Ligeia.’
‘Er, yes...’ he mumbled, a little dazed from watching their tongues entwine. Hopefully, they weren’t sisters. ‘Actually, I knew that. Rex is my name. Rex Grant.’
‘Hello, Rex.’ Ligeia threw her arms around him. ‘I like you and I can see Elva likes you too. Would you like to buy us both a drink?
‘Let me think about that.’ He stroked his chin in sham deliberation. ‘Yes, I would.’
Taking both girls by their hands, Rex led them through the crowd to the open-mouthed Charlotte at the bar. He honestly couldn’t believe his luck; he’d just been dancing with the most famous young woman in show business and now he appeared to have pulled her. The Rex Grant sex appeal was legendary, but this was quite something and a real notch up from the models and minor celebrities he usually dated. Rex frowned slightly. The most famous young woman in show business in a run-down Scottish nightclub? What was she doing in here?
‘This is Elva,’ he said, smiling at Charlotte. ‘And I think you might know Ligeia here. Ladies, I’d like you to meet my friend Charlotte. She’s a big fan of yours, Ligeia.’
‘Isn’t everyone a fan?’ stammered Charlotte, her face turning crimson. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. This is amazing. I really can’t believe I’m actually speaking to you.’
‘Hello, Charlotte.’ Ligeia slipped an arm around the girl’s waist and kissed her cheek. ‘Mmh, I like your smell. I think it’s really nice that you enjoy my music.’
‘Enjoy your music?’ spluttered Charlotte, her words tripping over each other as she rambled self-consciously. ‘I absolutely love it. I know you don’t do interviews, so I’ve never heard you speak before. That cool accent of yours is great. Where are you from?’
‘I don’t know.’ Ligeia shrugged slightly. ‘Everywhere.’
‘That sounds like a nice place,’ said Rex, grinning. ‘I’ll have to go there one day.’ He noticed how two of the bodyguards had followed him and had positioned themselves at the bar some six feet away. He winked at Elva. ‘Hey, you don’t say much, do you?’
Elva smiled and shook her head, her blue eyes twinkling in the dim light.
‘I was hoping to see you last night,’ said Charlotte, ‘but there were no concert tickets left when I tried to...’
‘I wish I’d known.’ Ligeia squeezed her hand. ‘I could have invited you as my guest. I’m singing again soon. Would you like to come and listen to me as my guest?’
‘What?’ Charlotte choked on her drink. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course I am. I’ll tell my manager to give you the very best tickets.’
‘You have no idea how much that would mean to me.’ Charlotte laughed nervously. ‘I’ll cancel whatever I have in my diary: work, weddings, funerals, surgical operations... When is it and where’s the venue?’
‘I don’t know.’
Elva touched Ligeia’s arm to get her attention and began using sign language.
‘Friday in London,’ said Ligeia. ‘I’m at a place called the O2.’
Rex was puzzled. Had she never heard of the London Dome? ‘What’s wrong with Elva?’ he asked. ‘What’s this waving thing she’s doing?’
‘She’s vocally impaired,’ said Charlotte. ‘She’s signing.’
‘Oh, right.’ Rex shrugged. ‘She was waving her hands like she was deaf and dumb.’ He saw that Ligeia’s people were watching him. The manager with the eye patch was talking to her black companion and it was obvious that Rex was the topic of conversation. ‘I see Captain Morgan, your manager, has her eye on me. I guess it’ll be easy for her to get you on pirate radio?’
Ligeia and Elva looked baffled.
‘Pirate radio? You know? Pirates like Captain Morgan had eye-patches and...�
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‘Irana is a Colonel,’ said Ligeia. ‘Not a pirate.’
‘Er, okay.’ Rex had no idea what the hell this might mean, but his brilliant joke had fallen flatter than a motorway hedgehog. ‘Right, let me get you girls a Lobo. It’s a rather tasty cocktail I devised myself, Lobo being the Spanish word for wolf.’ He glanced sarcastically at the bartender, but needn’t have bothered. The man was captivated by Ligeia and oblivious to the cynical look. ‘There was a Klingon called Lieutenant Wolf in Star Wars, you know.’
‘You’re funny,’ laughed Ligeia.
‘Funny?’ Rex was slightly crestfallen. Attractive and alluring, yes, but funny? Hard as it was to believe, maybe she wasn’t interested in him sexually. ‘Well, yes, I have a great sense of humour and...’
‘I’d really like to have sex with you,’ broke in Ligeia.
‘What?’ said Rex. Maybe she was interested.
‘Do you like to have sex?’
‘Er, you could say that.’ The childish way she phrased the question made her sound a little simple, but how could she be? This was Ligeia, for goodness sake. ‘On my list of favourite pastimes, sex does rank higher than trainspotting. I’m at the Balmoral Hotel. We could maybe have a few drinks and then...’
‘We’re staying there too,’ said Ligeia. ‘I don’t think I want a drink anymore. I feel very close to you, Rex. Instead of drinking, we could go and have sex right now.’ She glanced at Elva and her face lit up. ‘Perhaps you’d like to have sex with both of us? Men like doing that.’
He stared for several seconds, his jaw slowly dropping. ‘Are you joking?’ Rex turned to Elva. ‘Is she joking?’ He felt a little stupid asking a mute girl.
Elva laughed silently and shook her head.