by Helen Harper
I took yet another step back. ‘And you can ensure justice is served if it turns out I’m the one who’s initiated the attacks and broke your truce. You’ll be delighted then, won’t you, Morgan? Because I’m an evil bitch. I probably deserve it.’
His entire body went ramrod straight at my words. ‘Maddy—’
‘Forget it,’ I said. ‘I don’t need your help. I’ll find some of this nux crap on my own. You can crawl back to your little pub and forget I ever existed.’
‘For Fey’s sake,’ he ground out. ‘Will you just come with me? Stop being so bloody stubborn.’
I glared at him. ‘Apparently I’m a nasty super villain. I don’t need the likes of a goody two shoes like you interfering in my life.’
Then, before he could say another word, I spun away and left him standing. I even managed to resist the temptation to glance back.
Chapter Ten
I’d spent more time with Morgan than I’d realised and it was after seven by the time I let myself into Julie’s house with her own key. The wisdom of accepting this job, given the irritating green-eyed arsebadger’s supposed revelations about me, was diminishing by the second. I was also confused that Julie had permitted access to her home to a virtual stranger. No wonder she was in trouble if she was always this trusting.
The house was surprisingly modest although it was very tastefully done. I pushed aside my concerns about myself and ignored Julie’s décor in favour of examining her security systems. There appeared to be very few. Given how pedantic Bodyguard Mark had been about a sealed bottle of pills, it was hard to believe that she only had a simple Yale lock to keep out potential intruders. At least all the windows were closed and properly locked, although when I located Julie’s bedroom and saw that it was overlooked by yet another Travotel, I wasn’t happy. It wouldn’t take an evil genius like me to spy on her in her own home.
I was halfway down the stairs to the ground floor when I heard the front door open and the clickety-clack of high heels on the parquet flooring. I ran all the way down, reaching Julie just as she hung up her coat.
I began with a scolding. ‘You don’t have any burglar alarms. How can you not have any burglar alarms? Someone could break one of your windows and be inside strangling you before you can reach for the phone. I’ve counted at least five access points where I could gain entrance within seconds. Seconds, Julie! And this location! There are at least fifty hotel guests across the street who are peering into your bedroom right now.’
She unhooked the scarf from round her neck and smiled. ‘Evening, Madrona.’
I frowned. ‘Evening. Now, listen, you…’
Julie dropped the scarf, letting it fall into a puddle on the floor, and continued to smile. ‘You sound just like Mark. Before we do anything,’ she said, ‘I need a large G and T.’ She waltzed past me into the kitchen.
I followed her. ‘Julie, this is serious.’
‘Yes, darling, and no one understands that better than I do. But please – it’s been a long day and I need a drink.’ She opened up a cabinet and took out two glasses, waving them in my direction. ‘Ice and a slice?’
I crossed my arms. ‘You’re paying me to protect you. Alcohol is not a good idea.’
‘Mads, alcohol is always a good idea. Especially when the scriptwriters change their minds at the last minute and I’m forced to re-learn all my lines.’ She tutted before locating a large bottle of gin and pouring triple measures into both glasses. She arched a glance at me. ‘You don’t mind if I call you Mads? It seems to fit, to be honest, darling.’ She retrieved some ice from the freezer before topping up both drinks with a tiny amount of tonic. When she was done she held out one glass to me while taking a gulp from the other one. She smacked her lips. ‘Bliss.’
‘You may call me whatever you wish,’ I said, reluctantly taking the drink. I took a tiny sip of it, half-choked and hastily put it down on the table top. ‘Can we talk seriously about your situation?’
Julie waved a hand. ‘Of course, of course.’ She kicked off her high heels and sauntered through to the living room. I followed, watching as she settled in a large armchair and tucked her feet up underneath her. When I didn’t immediately sit as well, she flung out an arm in the direction of another chair.
‘Before we go any further,’ Julie said, ‘I need you to sign a sort of … non-disclosure agreement.’
There was something about her voice that instantly put me on guard. ‘Sort of non-disclosure agreement?’
She inclined her head. ‘Indeed.’ She leaned to her side, lifted up a small wooden chest from the floor and rummaged inside before bringing out a piece of paper. ‘Here it is.’
I took it from her. Whatever I might have imagined a typical NDA looked like, it wasn’t like this. There was only one line of writing on it: ‘I will not reveal the true nature of Julie Chivers, whether by implication, deed or disclosure.’ That was it. There was nothing else.
I stared at it, befuddled. I flipped the sheet of paper over but there was nothing on the other side. I looked at Julie, who was watching me very closely, and then shrugged. ‘Seems straightforward enough.’ Understatement of the century. She’d certainly piqued my curiosity about her ‘true nature’ though.
‘Do you have a pen?’ I asked.
Julie didn’t move a muscle. ‘This isn’t that sort of contract.’ She delved into her box of tricks yet again. This time, however, she pulled out a needle. Judging by its gleaming tip, it was very sharp.
I recoiled in my chair. ‘Wait just a goddarned minute,’ I said. Maybe I’d gotten ol’ Julie Chivers wrong from the start.
‘Relax.’ She held the needle up. ‘What? You think I could hurt you with this? Darling, don’t be ridiculous.’
Given that my arm was aching constantly from a barely visible nick to my finger, I wasn’t about to take anything for granted. ‘Maybe you should explain,’ I said, without taking my eyes off of her.
Only the faintest tremble to her hands betrayed her nervousness. Somehow I liked her better knowing that she wasn’t as confident as she appeared. ‘All this does,’ she said, ‘is prick your finger. It will draw only the tiniest amount of blood, which you then use to agree to the contract.’
I schooled my face into a deadpan mask. ‘You want me to sign in blood. It sounds like something the devil might request.’
Julie was no longer smiling. ‘I can assure you that I’m not the devil. Your blood simply offers me greater … certainty … than a mere signature can do.’
‘Did Mark do this? Did he sign in blood?’
She inclined her head. ‘He did. As did the others before him.’ She sighed. ‘I would explain further, Mads, but until you sign the contract I’m unable to do so.’
More unwilling rather than unable, I thought. Even so, Julie was interesting me more than enough for me to agree – but there was no way I would let a strange needle pierce my skin. I was keen to find out more but I wasn’t going to compromise my own safety, not when the ache in my arm was testament to just how dangerous a small cut could be.
Casting my eyes downwards and using my unwounded hand, I ran my index along the edge of the contract. I hissed at the brief flare of pain as the paper did as I’d intended then I pressed the small bead of blood underneath the writing.
‘You’re even more cautious than I appreciated,’ Julie commented. ‘That’s good.’
No, I was capable of learning from my mistakes. I didn’t have the chance to tell her that, however, because my attention was wholly caught by the contract. There was an odd smell of burning coming from it and, from the point where I’d smeared my blood, a single wisp of white smoke appeared. I gaped and threw the contract onto the floor just as the bloody blot vanished and my own name appeared.
‘That’s…’ I stared. ‘That’s…’
‘A crude magic of sorts,’ Julie provided helpfully.
I flung wary eyes in her direction. She simply looked relieved that I’d ‘signed’ on the dotted line, so to speak
.
‘What are you?’ I breathed. She didn’t have green eyes so she couldn’t be Fey like me. Or so I supposed.
‘Have some of that gin,’ she advised. ‘You’re going to need it.’
I didn’t need telling twice. I gulped down the entire contents of my glass, draining it to the dregs. Then I dropped it on to the side table next to me. ‘Time to ’fess up.’
If I’d been expecting a chatty preamble, I was mistaken. Julie raised her glass to me and, before taking another sip, said, ‘I am a vampire.’
The only sound in the room was the ticking of the small clock on the mantelpiece. Julie lifted the glass to her lips and finished off her gin. I just waited.
‘You know,’ she said finally, ‘I’ve done this seventeen times. Never have I had a reaction like yours.’ She leaned forward and repeated, ‘I’m a vampire.’
I nodded. ‘I heard you. I was expecting more.’
She raised a plucked eyebrow. ‘More?’
‘More explanation.’ If I was going to give any credence to the idea that I was a faery, I could hardly be taken aback that Julie was a vampire. And she hadn’t questioned my assertion that I was a superhero; she deserved the same respect she’d granted me. As long as she didn’t grow fangs and try to bite me, of course.
‘Unless I’ve forgotten more than I realise, vampires can’t go out during the day or they burn up in the sun. They can’t drink anything other than pure blood. They’re pale and cold and,’ I hesitated, although there was no point in beating around the bush, ‘dead. None of the above seems to apply to you.’
‘Where does all this knowledge about vampires come from?’ Julie asked. Her expression was patient and I sensed she’d had this conversation several times before. At least seventeen times before .
I scratched my head. ‘Uh, I’ve got amnesia, remember? I assume I’ve heard about vampires from horror stories.’ I tried to think. Did vampires exist across the Fey border? Who knew? ‘Count Duckula, perhaps.’
A trace of a grin flashed across Julie’s lips. ‘Everything you know, or think you know,’ she amended her words, ‘or think you remember or don’t remember, is nothing more than propaganda. Vicious lies designed to wipe my kind off the face of this planet. A campaign of pure genocide has been waged against us. That is why I have to go to such lengths to keep my secret safe.’ She pointed at the floor, where the contract still lay. ‘The blood you have signed there will bind you forever. If you even think about revealing what I’ve just told you, you will suffer and all those of your own blood will suffer along with you. You will die – and not pleasantly or quickly.’ She licked her lips. ‘You’re welcome to try. Others have in the past and it didn’t go well for them.’ Julie sighed. ‘It’s not a threat. It’s simply fact. And, alas, a necessary evil.’
I shrugged. ‘Hey, I get it. I still have questions, though.’
‘Do I need to drink blood to survive? Yes.’ She waved her glass at me. ‘But I do enjoy other beverages, as well as food. You already know about the Valium. I don’t need to kill to obtain the red stuff, Madrona. There are eight pints of blood in the average human body. I don’t know about you but I couldn’t drink eight pints of beer.’
I couldn’t be sure but I reckoned that, if challenged, I could. I decided it wouldn’t be sensible to say so. ‘Do you want my blood?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘No. You’re my bodyguard, not my chef. I get a pint delivered every week from the local hospital. They think I have aplastic anaemia so it’s no problem to get hold of it. And a pint a week is more than sufficient for my needs.’
I considered this while trying to prioritise my next questions. ‘How old are you?’ I coughed. ‘I mean, do you age?’
‘I’m 173 years old. I stopped ageing when I reached my fortieth birthday.’ Her face took on a distant expression. ‘That was some time ago.’
I frowned at her. ‘Is it wise being an actor then? Especially on television? Surely people will notice sooner or later.’
She smiled. ‘Advances in plastic surgery, not to mention Botox, mean I can get away with it for some time yet. I am aware, however, that there will come a time when I have to stop. It will be an easy matter to alter my appearance.’ She touched her hair self-consciously. ‘Although I will miss being blonde.’
‘Do you have a soul?’ I asked.
Her smile turned into a laugh. ‘Do you?’
Good question. I grimaced and leaned over to grab my glass. ‘I need some more gin,’ I said.
Julie stood up. ‘I knew I liked you.’
***
It took some time – and several more gins – but I finally managed to get the full story out of her. And I’d thought my life was complicated. It turns out that vampires are born, not made. Several hundred years ago there were thousands of them scattered across the globe. The paranoia of the Middle Ages, however, did them few favours. Even the slightest hint of anything untoward – such as a smear of blood about their lips, more animals going missing than usual or weakened damsels with blood loss, and they would be outed, rather stupidly, as witches. Vampires were strong but burning at the stake would kill them just as surely as it would anyone else. Not all of them were circumspect about their … ethnicity, either. In the end, confiding their secret, even to a select few, proved to be their undoing. Vampires, it turned out, were an endangered species.
‘As far as I’m aware,’ Julie told me, with only the slightest waver in her voice, ‘there are now fewer than fifty of us across the globe. I should be able to give you exact numbers but I’ve not heard from several old friends for some months and I fear the worst has happened.’
I leaned forward. ‘What do you mean?’
She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. ‘Despite our best efforts to hide our existence from the world, the damage was done centuries ago. There are people today who know of us and who seek to either destroy or entrap us. These hunters are the same people who have used literature and the media to transform us into the monsters that the world now believes us to be. I’m no more evil than you are.’
According to Morgan, that meant she was pretty darned evil. The NDA I’d signed only worked one way though, so I wasn’t about to reveal that little titbit. Not yet. ‘So holy water?’
‘No effect.’
‘Crucifixes?’
‘Nothing.’ She fixed me with a steely stare. ‘All part of the propaganda machine that works against us. If God Himself despises us, then so should the rest of the world. Those bastards were clever. They took some of what was true and twisted it for their own ends. For example, it is believed that I cannot enter another’s home without permission but, in fact, the reverse is true. I have no serious security measures in place here because no one can enter unless I give them express permission. In here, I am safe.’
‘You could just stay in here then.’
Her mouth tightened. ‘What kind of life is that? In many ways, liberty is more important than life. I won’t be made a prisoner in my own home.’
Her words sounded accusatory and I held up my palms to appease her. ‘I get it.’ I paused. ‘Sunlight…’
‘Not a problem.’
I gave her an arch look. ‘Can you turn into a bat?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t sleep in a coffin either.’ She shuddered. ‘I like my memory-foam mattress and my four-poster bed, thank you very much.’
I grinned. Fair enough. ‘So that man who attacked you—’
‘A vampire hunter.’ She grimaced. ‘Lately they’ve taken to abduction rather than assassination. I imagine their motives are nefarious, that they wish to trap rather than kill us. Maybe to experiment on us with torture. Either way, there is at least one group of hunters who know what I am and are doing what they can to get hold of me. That’s why I need you. They won’t dare attack a television studio and they can’t come at me here. It’s only when I’m out and about on the streets and in public that I am truly in danger. You questioned my choice to maintain such a hi
gh public profile? Well, in truth, that is all that is keeping me safe. While people recognise me and I’m well known, the hunters have less opportunity to come after me.’
I mulled this over; it did make a kind of sense. ‘How many of them are there?’
‘The hunters? Three, that I know of. There may be more.’ She sniffed. ‘I’ve eluded them so far but no one is infallible. Sooner or later, my luck will run out.’
‘The letters you told me about,’ I said, ‘and the animal body parts.’
Her mouth turned down. ‘Those parts are true. The hunters are trying to rattle me.’ She grimaced. ‘Unfortunately, it’s working. And you see now why I can’t go to the police.’
Yeah, that was a non-starter. I wasn’t surprised Julie was rattled. Nothing about this situation was good and, so far, I couldn’t see many advantages to being a vampire. In fact, it truly sucked. I smiled slightly at my own pun. ‘You know,’ I told her, ‘not all the media nowadays is against you. A lot of vampires have been cast in a more positive light in recent years. Vampires are sexy.’
Julie sniffed. ‘Where do you think the funding for those new films and books came from? We have wealth, Madrona. But wealth only takes you so far.’
Indeed. ‘So you only need me when you’re outside? I don’t have to stay here in this house?’
She smiled. ‘No,’ she agreed, ‘you don’t have to. I get lonely, though. It will be nice to have a companion. Men like Mark are all very well but there’s not much conversation to be had with them. I could do with some female company and I get the feeling you and I are going to get on well.’
I raised my glass in her direction. ‘Do you drive to work? Alone?’
‘I do.’
‘That has to stop,’ I said in my best strict-teacher voice. ‘That’s a weak link in your security chain.’
‘My car is very visible and the route I take is busy. If they tried to attack me in public, others would step in and help. The world is full of good Samaritans and I’m too well known.’