by Helen Harper
‘It’s not.’
‘There’s nothing to find, Bo.’
‘Look harder. That sodding company is run by the Kakos daemons.’ In fact, with Streets of Fire they don’t even need telepathic control. They can control the internet and make people believe what they damn well choose by controlling what information they broadcast. It beggars belief that no one has noticed how powerful they are until now. It’s terrifying.
‘I’ve done what I can, Bo. There’s nothing else there.’
‘Please, Harry.’
He sighs. ‘Fine but…’
I hang up. It’s not polite and my grandfather would slap me down for doing such a thing but my whole body is shaking. Everyone knows that Kakos daemons are to be feared but they’re seen so rarely that they’ve taken on the guise of the boogeyman. The trouble is that the boogeyman is alive and much, much more powerful than anyone gives him credit for.
***
‘This is the deal,’ I say to the small assembly of pale-faced vampires. ‘The Families are no more. Stuart, Bancroft, Montserrat, Medici and Gully are dead and buried. Forget which allegiance you used to cling to. It no longer exists.’
You could hear a pin drop in the room. A few of them swallow nervously. My grandfather leans against the wall with his arms folded and an inscrutable expression on his face.
‘Our legal status has also been revoked. No one is above the law, not any more. Kill someone, drink from them against their will, steal a damned Mars bar, and expect to end up in prison. The world has turned upside down and we need to adapt or leave.’
A tentative hand is raised. ‘Excuse me?’
I glance over, unsurprised to see that my first dissenter is the Medici guzzler. At least his previous aggressive bluster is muted. ‘Yes?’
‘We have representatives here from every Family. We can start afresh. There can be a new Lord or Lady for each Family. We can rise up more powerfully than before. We can crush anyone who gets in our way. We can do this.’
There are a few nods at his words. I shrug. I’d been expecting this so it’s probably as well to get it out of the way sooner rather than later. ‘What’s the definition of insanity?’ I ask softly.
A half smile curls round Beth’s mouth. ‘Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.’
We share a look of agreement. ‘Exactly. Sure we could bring the Families back to life and we might even be successful. The people who did this to us, the Kakos daemons, might leave us in peace.’ I wrinkle my nose. ‘Somehow I doubt it but it’s possible. We could regain our former glory. But then what? Sooner or later the same thing will happen again. The Families failed because they held themselves apart from society. They let tradition dictate how they acted. We need to do things differently if we want to survive. Assimilate into society, be part of this country rather than above it.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ a Gully woman bursts out. ‘The Families gave us security. They gave us a way of life. We can’t just throw it all away!’
‘If you don’t like it, feel free to leave. There are plenty of European Families who will take you in. The Americans are looking to boost their numbers.’ I lean forward. ‘You don’t need to live with a Lord or Lady dictating your every move. You can live by your own standards. Adhere to the law but be an individual.’ I meet my grandfather’s eyes. ‘Live by your own morality.’
‘No.’ The Medici vampire shakes his head. ‘We can keep Britain great. The Families keep us great.’
‘Bullshit.’ The voice behind me is quiet but unmistakable. Even if I hadn’t known it was Michael, I could have guessed from the look of shock on everyone’s face. ‘Bo is right. The tradition and rules imposed by the Families were holding the vampires back. Now you’re all free. Look to tomorrow, not yesterday.’
Everyone still just gapes.
‘Lord Montserrat! You’re alive. You’re …’ There’s a long pause.
‘Human,’ he says drily. Maria is helping him stay upright but he looks stronger than before. ‘Why yes, I am.’
The vampires exchange frightened, confused looks. ‘I don’t understand,’ one says. ‘How could this happen?’
‘The Kakos daemons,’ I say softly. ‘They’re responsible for all of this.’
‘We need to destroy them! We’ll kill them! How dare they do this?’
‘We’ll drain them of every drop of blood they have,’ another promises.
I lift up my chin. ‘We can’t. Even if we knew where they all were, they’re more powerful than we are.’ I press my lips together. ‘For now, anyway.’ I’m still going to blow X apart the second I get the chance. ‘Look, choose to stay or choose to go. It’s up to you. But things will not be the same as they were before. They can’t be. We’re still vulnerable, we can still be killed. But I’m working on that. I think there’s a way out that will make others accept us. It’s not going to be easy but I think it’s viable.’
‘And what about me?’ Hope asks, her clear voice ringing over us. ‘What about the witches?’
I meet her eyes. I still don’t have the foggiest idea what to do with her olive branch. On the one hand, we could really do with their support because right now, the witches are far stronger and more capable than we are. But that doesn’t mean that they’re not waiting for the chance to take us all out for good. They might have rescued us from Hale but I still can’t fathom out their real motives. I search my heart for the right answer.
‘What do you really want?’ I ask. ‘You’re not doing all this just because you need a buffer between yourselves and the Kakos daemons.’
Hope exhales in exasperation. ‘We’re not evil, Bo. Not any more than you are. There are bad apples, sure, but you’ve experienced that on your own hearth. We’re doing this because it’s the right thing to do, not because we have an ulterior motive.’ She purses her lips. ‘Not that an alliance won’t help us in the future. Say the word and the black witches will come out in favour of the vampires. It will help your cause. You know it will.’
I look at Michael. He cocks his head slightly. What would you do, I ask him silently. He smiles in response, letting me know that he’s keeping out of it. Judging by the way everyone is looking at me, they’re going to let him; now that he’s no longer a vampire, they’ve already dismissed him. My heart aches. We have to stop thinking of ourselves as separate from the rest of the world. It’s already almost been our undoing.
I stride forward to Hope and hold out my hand. She takes it and shakes. A frisson of electricity travels up my arm and I just manage to avoid wincing. ‘It’s either face the wolves or jump off the cliff,’ I say.
‘Which have you chosen?’
I pull back my shoulders and take a deep breath. ‘Both.’
Beth steps forward. ‘I’ve never been that bothered by the witches,’ she says. ‘But I know the Blackmans have had issues with them.’
My grandfather raises an eyebrow. ‘Elizabeth,’ he chides, ‘it is the witches who have had issues with us.’ He moves over to Hope. ‘I am glad we can finally bury the hatchet.’
Beth clears her throat as the two shake hands. ‘As I was saying, if they can work together then I can work with them too. I’m staying. London is my home.’
The ex-Medici vampire moves up beside her. ‘What the hell. I’m not running away with my tail between my legs. I’m not afraid of any Kakos daemon.’
He should be. Regardless, I smile at him. One by one, the others step closer. ‘We’re with you, Bo. However this goes down, we’re with you.’
‘I’m not your leader,’ I tell them all. ‘You need to be masters of your own fate.’
Chester smiles. ‘I like the sound of that. I’m still with you, though.’
I tug at my hair. ‘Pretty speeches and hand shaking are all well and good but they don’t change the fact that we’re still in danger.’ I take a deep breath. ‘If you’re up to it, I’d like us to go to Westminster.’
Beth pumps the air. ‘Let’s confront H
ale and sort him out once and for all.’
‘No,’ I say, ‘not yet. First we need to find a girl.’
Chapter Sixteen: Search
Although, like Beth, most people think of the Houses of Parliament when they think of Westminster, there’s more to it than that. It might not be a particularly large borough, and the majority of the buildings might be historical listed structures, but there is still quite a large residential population. It was here that Alice’s mother thought she saw her daughter. There might not have been any alien sightings – I had Rogu3 check through various databases for me – but if Alice still exists this seems the most likely place to start looking for her.
Each vampire has an updated photo of what Alice might look like, complete with short dark hair and five years added on. It’s not perfect ‒ photofits rarely are ‒ but it’s a good starting point. We fan out across the borough and start asking questions.
It’s a dangerous operation, not because of Alice but because of our proximity to Hale’s base and all the others out there who are eager to take advantage of our weakened situation. We stay in pairs and I make sure everyone is aware that they need to stay alert at all times. It helps that Hope also musters her troops. Before long, there are more than a hundred of us, all searching for one altered little girl. Unfortunately, even though the streets are starting returning to a semblance of normality, most of the queries follow a pattern:
‘Good afternoon.’
Cue stammer and wide eyes. ‘You’re a vampire.’
‘Yes. Can you look at this photo for me? I’m looking for this girl.’
‘I thought all the vampires were dead.’
‘Please just look at the photo.’
Generally this is followed by a brisk denial that they’ve seen her and more questions about what’s happened to the Families. Without her blonde curls, no one recognises the photo as Alice Goldman. I guess people often don’t see what’s right in front of their faces. It makes my theory that she might have been hiding in plain sight all the more believable. I make sure that everyone keeps their questions – and their identities – as low key as possible. We don’t want to alert the bad guys, whoever they are, to our actions. Every reaction from every passer-by is carefully scrutinised. And so far, no one is having any luck.
O’Shea catches up with me down a leafy street near Westminster Abbey. ‘There are no aliens in London,’ he informs me stiffly. ‘Not of the green-skinned kind anyway.’ He appears annoyed at having spent the day searching fruitlessly for creatures that don’t exist. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that it’s better than being held prisoner by a raving loony MP who wants you to burn to death, and better than being rescued from that madman by your mortal enemy, but it doesn’t seem worth it.
I shrug. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Fair enough?’ he screeches. ‘Do you realise that I’ve just made every person I’ve met think that I’ve lost my marbles? I have a reputation to maintain.’
I pat him on the shoulder. ‘It was a lead that had to be followed.’
He grumbles loudly. ‘I spoke to all of Benjy’s friends. None of them had any clue where he’d gone. They’re convinced he wouldn’t have just upped and left though. I went back to his posh apartment to try and talk to him again and he’s gone. According to his neighbour, an hour after I spoke to him he packed a bag and left.’
I grimace. Another dead end. I’m starting to think we’re chasing ghosts.
Hope appears from round the corner from where she’s been questioning a bemused couple from Sweden. ‘Nope,’ she says. ‘They’ve not seen her either.’
O’Shea leaps in front of me, shielding my body from hers. ‘Witch,’ he hisses.
Hope smiles. ‘You must be Devlin.’
O’Shea makes a hex sign and backs up, colliding with me. ‘Get thee away from me!’
‘You know that doesn’t actually work, right?’
‘Bo,’ he says plaintively, ‘what is going on?’
‘We have a new ally,’ I tell him.
‘A black witch?’ His voice is rising to a high-pitched shriek. ‘Are you nuts? They all want to kill you!’
‘Apparently not.’
Hope holds up her palms. ‘Listen to your friend,’ she says. ‘I’m on your side. I’m one of the good guys.’
‘Bo, your judgment of people is seriously flawed.’
I grin. ‘You got that right.’
O’Shea’s brow furrows. ‘Hey! I didn’t mean me!’
‘It’s all good,’ I soothe.
A grey-haired man hurrying past throws us a look and gives us a wide berth. I dash after him. ‘Excuse me, sir!’ I say, waving Alice’s doctored photo in his face. ‘Have you seen this girl?’
He barely looks at it. ‘No.’ He picks up speed and scurries off.
O’Shea stares at me. ‘This is your big plan? Find Alice Goldman by asking people on the street?’
‘If you have a better idea…’
‘The words needle and haystack come to mind,’ he mutters. ‘If you’re hoping to bump into her, you’re crazy. It’s a Wednesday and the last time I checked, most kids don’t hang around in the open on the streets of London in the middle of a weekday.’
O’Shea’s words hit me with the force of a freight train. I keep thinking that Alice was abducted and concealed somewhere but, from what her mother told me, that might not be the case. If Alice’s mind has been wiped and she’s wandering around the streets with an altered appearance, or if she’s been brainwashed by Stockholm Syndrome or magic or whatever, she must appear to be undergoing the numbing process of formal education; otherwise the local council would step in. Unless you’re going to keep a child locked in a basement – or in a room like Maria’s prison dormitory – you have to send them to school. I straighten up. Hiding in plain sight indeed. ‘You’re right.’
‘You bet I am.’
Hope meets my eyes. ‘School,’ she breathes. A smile spreads across her face. ‘We need to hit the schools.’
***
It doesn’t take long to send a message to tell everyone to switch tactics. If Alice is still alive, she’s old enough to attend secondary school – and there are only eleven of those in the borough. With witches and vampires heading off in all directions, Hope, a distinctly wary O’Shea and I make a beeline for the local council buildings. Not every child physically goes to school.
Ignoring the cluster of smokers hanging around the front, we march grimly inside. I take off my baseball cap and run my hands through my hair. I get the feeling that my weak disguise won’t do much for me here, not if I want to get any real information.
‘Which floor for education?’ I ask the young woman behind the desk. She doesn’t look up from her nail file. Doesn’t she realise what a cliché she is?
‘S’lunch time,’ she mumbles. ‘Come back in an hour.’
‘No,’ I say pleasantly, ‘I don’t think I will.’
She huffs and looks up. When she sees me, flanked by Hope and O’Shea, her mouth drops open. ‘Bo Blackman.’
I smile. ‘Hi.’
She swallows and leans forward. ‘I heard what you did to that receptionist in Canary Wharf,’ she whispers. She pulls away the scarf around her neck. ‘Do it to me.’
I stare at her stupidly. ‘You want me to drain you of your blood and leave you unconscious for an hour or two?’ I feel guilty about what I did to poor David; I don’t need to add to my guilt by doing it again.
She doesn’t seem to hear me. ‘I always wanted to be a vampette.’
I bank down the temptation. No, I feel like we might be getting somewhere with Alice. This isn’t the time to stop for a bite – even if everyone else is having lunch. ‘Maybe later,’ I hedge. ‘Where can I find the education department?’ They used to occupy their own building but cutbacks have forced them to join the rest of the council workers. I know they’re here somewhere.
‘Fifth floor,’ she says in a cloud of disappointment.
I force a s
mile. ‘Thanks.’
‘I never understood why so many people were willing to do that,’ Hope comments, as we start up the first flight of stairs. Naturally, the lift is out of order. ‘Let vampires drink from them, I mean.’
‘I’m equally baffled,’ I admit. I shoot a look at O’Shea.
He sighs. ‘Connor said it was like sex. Orgasmic was the word he used.’ He shrugs. ‘Something to do with the chemicals in a bloodguzzler’s saliva.’
Huh. No wonder Connor prevaricated whenever I broached the subject. I’d not heard that before. Then I frown. ‘Hang on a minute. Is that why you offered to let me drink from you?’ I recoil slightly. ‘Ick.’
O’Shea arches an eyebrow and pouts. I think he’s trying to assume the air of a sex kitten but it doesn’t work. ‘A woman’s never done it for me but if one could, it would be you, Bo.’
My frown deepens. ‘Are you saying I’m manly?’ I look down at my clothes. Nondescript jeans, leather jacket and black T-shirt. It’s not the most feminine look but I’ve been known to wear dresses. I’d wear them more often if they were practical.
‘Well, I find you pretty sexy,’ Hope interjects. I can’t tell whether she’s serious or not and I start feeling flustered.
‘She’s spoken for,’ O’Shea says shortly, glaring at her.
Hope’s mouth twitches. ‘You mean by the newly resurrected Lord Montserrat.’
‘He didn’t die,’ I say, as we keep climbing.
‘No,’ she returns. ‘He just changed from a vampire into a human. How exactly did that happen?’
‘Kakos daemon.’
‘So you said. The daemon saved him by turning him back?’
My eyes narrow and I almost spit out the words. ‘No. The daemon was getting his revenge on me for not dancing to his tune. It was a trap and I walked straight into it.’
O’Shea reaches out and rubs my arm. Hope, however, looks thoughtful.
We round the last corner and head up the last few steps. A crooked sign at the top reads ‘Local Education Authority: Westminster’, except the letter ‘s’ is missing from Westminster and someone has taken a Sharpie and changed the ‘i’ to a ‘u’.