Pagan (MPRD Book 1)

by Andrew Chapman

  Birkenstock nodded but Jackson looked unhappy.

  “Why is the ownership of the bar transferred?” asked Jackson sharply.

  “Because that way somebody legally owns the place. As long as I’m staying here this place is, technically, my home, and vampires can’t get in. Trust me. We’ve tried it with some of the vampires that work for us and it works. I guess technicalities are the soul of the vamp as well as the law.”

  “Wouldn’t it be Anna?” asked Marie. “She was first in here, right?”

  “No, it doesn’t work for other vampires,” I replied, always alert for a chance to add to her training. “A vamp has no problem entering the home of another vampire. It’s only humans that cause problems.”

  “Anna?” asked Jackson suspiciously.

  “John’s wife,” I said, nodding to my friend who was talking to one of the SOCOs.

  “He married a vampire?” asked Jackson incredulously.

  “No,” I said firmly. “He married Anna. Anna was turned a few years ago and he was lucky not to have to kill her. And I was lucky because if he hadn’t been able to, it would have been my job.”

  I looked from one officer to the other.

  “Make no mistake, I trust Anna with my life. I’d rather have her watch my back than any ten constables you could offer me.”

  John walked over to us, a slight frown on his face.

  “Well,” he said, “I think we have an answer to how the leeches got in here.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “I was talking to the officer and he knew the family.” John went on. “Apparently the vamp who was holding the blade to my throat was Mr. & Mrs. Perkins’ daughter, Emily. She went missing two months ago. This was her home too.”

  “I want you on that computer, John,” I said. “Get the word out. Any other safe houses had family members gone missing, we need to know about it.”

  “I already checked.”

  I caught the look in his eye.

  “How many?” I asked.

  “Thirty six, all within fifty miles from here. Almost every safe house between here and that Marcus guy.”

  CHAPTER

  33

  My eyes snapped open to slowly fading sunlight. It was a little before dusk and almost time to get out of bed. We’d been at the Falcon for a few days and it had been almost eerily quiet every night.

  Marie was cuddled close to me, her head on my chest, our legs entwined. Let me just go on record as saying that I don’t really like sleeping naked. It’s not aesthetics—although the male form isn’t exactly the most attractive thing on the planet, especially the genitals—but more a case of practicality. If I have to leap out of bed to fight something, I’d rather not do it ‘tackle out’. Being the big, bad vampire hunter is difficult when the family jewels are swinging in the breeze. Marie, however, liked the naked thing and, if it came to that, I liked her doing the naked thing, so we slept naked. I just made sure there was a pair of trousers close at hand.

  Today, though, I could see the advantages. There was a lot of naked skin pressed up against me, which is always a nice way to wake up. Marie stirred and yawned.

  “Time to get up?” she said sleepily.

  “Not yet,” I said, glancing at the clock. “I think we can lay in for an hour or so.”

  “Good,” she said and hugged me tight.

  I stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead.

  “That’s nice,” she said softly. “Let’s have more of that.”

  I laughed softly and kissed her again. Suddenly she sat up. I gave her a puzzled look.

  “Oh!” she cried. “Hold on, hold on. Be right back.”

  She ran into the bathroom and I heard the sound of her rummaging in her bag. When she came back in she was holding one hand behind her back.

  “What are you up to?” I said.

  She brought out a brightly wrapped package and smiled shyly.

  “Happy birthday, Jack,” she said.

  “It’s my birthday?” I said with some shock. “No, my birthday’s not ‘till the third.”

  “Today is the third, love,” she said and pointed at my watch. “Third of November.”

  “You’re right,” I said, laughing. “With everything I completely forgot.”

  “Open it,” she said eagerly.

  I tore open the wrapping paper to find a box made of cream-colored cardboard. I opened the box and inside was a tiny pile of black and blue lace-edged silk. I picked up the first piece, a skimpy thong with a blue bow on the front, and held it up.

  “Well, I don’t think this is going to fit me, sweetheart,” I said doubtfully.

  “Silly, sexy man,” she said with an indulgent smile.

  I pulled out more slinky pieces, a corset with blue ribbons woven into the front and garters attached, a pair of black, lace-topped stockings. I was breathing a little heavily and was finding it hard to sit still.

  “So,” I said, trying to sound casual. “You gonna go put this all on?”

  “How about later?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence. “We need to get downstairs, okay?”

  I let out a groan.

  “You didn’t invite everyone, did you?” I said. “I don’t want a fuss made. It’s just a birthday.”

  “No,” she said. “John and Anna are waiting, but that’s all.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But later, you owe me and I owe you.”

  She crawled across the bed to me on all fours, and then planted a soft, sensuous kiss on my lips.

  “I can hardly wait, my love,” she breathed.

  John and Anna were sitting in the bar when we got downstairs.

  “Happy birthday, Jack,” said John and Anna in unison.

  “Hi guys, thanks a lot.” I replied.

  “Hey boss,” he said. “Whatdya think?”

  He held my rifle up and handed it to me.

  “I took it to a local gunsmith and had a few changes made in honor of your birthday.”

  He’d had a picatinny rail fitted to either side of the forestock, one of which now held one of the big UVC lamps. The weapon had been expertly cleaned and there was a new addition to the buttstock. The bottom corner was sheathed in a silver cap that came out to a short, horn-like point. I liked it. I could probably crack a vamp’s skull right open with it. “Wow,” I said quietly. “When did you find time to do this?”

  “Er … When you were sleeping?” said John.

  “Well, you must have had an accomplice to get the rifle out of our room,” I said, giving Marie my best ‘you’re in trouble’ look. “Thank you, both of you. This is amazing.”

  “Oh, that’s from John,” said Anna, sliding a box across the table to me. “This is from me.”

  I put the FAL aside and opened the box. Inside was a cut-down pump-action shotgun, but without either a stock or a pistol grip. It also appeared to have a strange rail attached to the top. For a second I didn’t know what it was for and then realization hit.

  I picked up my FAL and unsnapped the M203 from under the barrel, sliding it off of the rail that secured it to the forestock. The shotgun slid into place with a satisfying snap and my rifle now had an underslung backup weapon. Nice.

  “There’s plenty of shells in the box, too,” said Anna.

  I was almost speechless. Okay, I’ll admit it: I like guns. It goes with the job. The big, brutal FAL, with the underslung shotgun, the UVC lamp and the silver-capped buttstock was very nearly the perfect vampire hunter’s weapon. I loved it.

  “Anna, this is great, thank you,” I said. “I mean really, really fantastic.”

  “That’s okay, boss,” she said, giving me a hug. “Use it in good health and happy birthday.”

  “Oh, wait,” said John, “we found something for Marie while we were at the gunsmith.”

  He pulled up a pair of large webbing pouches and put them on the table. Opening one revealed a pair of black objects that looked like a standard FAL magazine with a large soup tin welded on each side.
r />   “Drum mags?” I asked. “What capacity?”

  “They’re C-Mags, a hundred rounds each,” said John.

  “Nice.”

  John zipped the pouch back up and pushed them across the table to Marie, then produced another magazine and added it to the gift.

  “Just to get you started, hun,” he said.

  Marie picked up her shorty and ejected the thirty round magazine, replacing it with the C-Mag.

  “I like,” she said. “I like a lot.”

  So did I. With a hundred round drum magazine and an operator who could control it on full auto, the FAL was like an LSW with bigger teeth. Very nice.

  I was disappointed I didn’t have one of the C-Mags for my rifle. But then, I wouldn’t be able to fire the shotgun with the bulky magazine getting in the way. Of course, with a hundred round magazine I wouldn’t need the shotgun, supplied a sarcastic part of my mind.

  Marie had another package in her hands.

  “This is from me, Jack,” she said.

  “Another?” I asked, taking the package.

  “Another?” asked John quietly. “What was the first?”

  “Oh hush,” said Anna. “It was something private.”

  “Private?” asked John. “Private, but you know?”

  Anna didn’t reply.

  John shrugged and watched as I opened the second package, a felt-lined box that held a hunting knife. It had a long, curved, single-edged silver alloy blade, a polished wooden handle and a silver pommel in the shape of a wolf’s head. I was stunned. The knife was a work of art. It was truly beautiful. The blade was well over a foot long and razor-sharp.

  “Do you like it?” asked Marie softly.

  “Sweetheart, I love it, it’s incredible. It’s beautiful.”

  John and Anna were craning to see so I showed them the knife and both gave little ‘ah’ sounds. I pulled Marie into my arms and kissed her.

  “Thank you,” I said. “It’s wonderful.”

  The scabbard was nicely tooled leather with a matching wolf’s head emblem branded into the front.

  “I think I might have found a replacement for my kukri,” I said.

  Marie was beaming.

  “There’s one more gift,” said Anna. “In the lounge.”

  “Okay,” I said, placing the knife back in its box.

  I was leading the way into the lounge, still looking at the knife, when easily thirty voices yelled “Happy birthday!” and one that I recognized as belonging to Norse yelled “It’s about fucking time!”

  I almost jumped out of my skin. I wheeled on Marie, laughing fit to burst.

  “You set me up!” I said. “And you lied to me!”

  She kissed me and gave me a hug.

  “I’ll just have to make it up to you later, sweetheart.”

  I grinned and was surrounded by my friends and the closest people I have to family. They were holding gifts, slapping me on the back, offering their best wishes. I was getting handshakes from the men, hugs and kisses on the cheek from the women.

  “You should have seen your face,” said Knuckles after she’d hugged me. “It was a picture.”

  “It certainly was,” said Bolt, holding up a digital camera. “I think this one’s going on our website.”

  “Do it and die,” I said ominously, setting off a round of raucous laughter.

  We were out on patrol, sweeping the surrounding areas, checking for any activity. The Ministry man had turned up and taken ownership of the inn, which suited me just fine.

  Every hunter was wearing their badge. With so many armed teams in the area the potential for accidents was huge and we all wanted to be easily identified to each other. Radio communications were being kept to a minimum in case the vamps were listening in. This new guy seemed way too clever for comfort.

  Ahead, in the glow of a streetlamp, I could see Norse and his crew. I’d instantly felt better with the big hunter around.

  “Anything happening?” I asked as we approached.

  “Not a fucking thing,” replied Norse. “Shit, there’s not even a rat running around.”

  We all started glancing around. Another team was approaching us.

  “The first person,” said Happy quietly “who says anything to the effect of ‘I don’t like it; it’s too quiet’ is looking at a face full of knuckles.”

  “Someone say my name?”

  It was Knuckles and her team. We exchanged quiet greetings and did the first thing that British soldiers always do when they meet up—we swapped edibles. Knuckles had gotten hold of some of the Compo ration packs and had a pocketful of the boiled sweets, which I firmly believe should be a food group by themselves. I traded some for a bag of Rolo chocolates. Norse had some US issue MREs and traded the biscuits to Rock Ape for a bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk. It could only be mere moments before someone suggested we do the other thing British soldiers always do when they meet up—have a cup of tea.

  “Anyone fancy a brew up?” asked Hacker.

  Told you so.

  We moved back towards the Falcon and sent two of Knuckles’ team in for the traditional elixir of life. I looked around at the eerily quiet night.

  “Okay, I don’t give a fuck, I’m saying it,” I said softly. “I do not like this, and it is too quiet. Is anyone else just waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

  CHAPTER

  34

  I hate insomnia. I slept for four hours and then spent an hour lying around wide-awake before finally giving up. I slipped out of the bed as quietly as possible and paid a quick visit to the bathroom. When I was finished I indulged myself for a long moment, leaning against the bathroom door and watching Marie as she slept. Yeah, there was that schoolboy in love again. Of course, it wasn’t all schoolboy: Marie’s new corset was hanging from the headboard, her thong from the footboard, and one of her stockings had been thrown on the dresser. We may have to organize a search party to find the other. Looks like the man license was secure again.

  I got dressed, quietly picked up my PLCE and gunbelt, and went downstairs in search of a cup of tea or, failing that, something that involved bacon. The bar was empty, unusual at this time of day. Apparently the new owner was running the place as a simple safe house, not bothering with opening the premises to anyone else. That suited me just fine.

  I raided the kitchen and made a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich, reflecting on how much I missed Taffy’s big boy specials.

  I sat down at a table that held a pile of gifts from my party. Vampire hunters often have a strange sense of humor and my friends are no exception. I had enough novelty boxers and funny t-shirts to keep me supplied for weeks. Norse had given me a glass-fronted red box that contained a wooden mallet and a sharpened stake, marked ‘in case of vampire: break glass’ on the front. Knuckles had given me a book called Sex for Dummies. Marie loudly declared that I didn’t need it, then wondered if there was an ‘advanced’ section in the back.

  One of the more touching gifts had come from Rock Ape. It was a deactivated silver-tipped 9mm round on a necklace, the shell casing engraved with ‘Jack “Pagan” Henderson’. It was, he explained, a good luck charm. Superstition said that somewhere out there was a bullet with your name on it. Well, now I owned the bullet with my name on it and I wasn’t in the habit of shooting myself. It was a thoughtful gesture. He’d also given me a t-shirt that read ‘I’ve reached the age where a stick-up becomes a hold-up’, so it wasn’t all bad news.

  I laughed at the shirts, slipped the ‘bullet with your name on it’ around my neck, and decided that I needed a house to attach to the back of the emergency vampire stake. I wondered if Marie and I could buy the house we were renting.

  I pulled out my FAL magazines and methodically unloaded them all. When we went out tonight I wanted to try the tracer rounds to see how they worked against vampires. The advantage was that I knew they would be at least as effective as my usual rounds. I decided to go with a mix of one tracer round in five. Something was nagging at me and I wan
ted to think my way through it. Loading magazines is almost as therapeutic as stripping and cleaning a weapon for me. Each round made a satisfying double click as it slid home.

  So, what was troubling me, nagging at my hindbrain like an idiot on the subway with an mp3 player just a little too loud?

  Click-click.

  It was the missing people: so many missing people, all from Ministry safe houses.

  Click-click

  No, that’s a false assumption. I’d be willing to bet that there were, in that same geographical area, hundreds of missing people who had nothing to do with the safe houses.

  Click-click.

  However, thirty-odd people who were connected to the safe houses were missing. The one from the Falcon had been turned into a vampire. But to what end?

  Click-click.

  Yes, the vampire could enter the safe house and invite others to do so, but so what? Purple hair and her minions had been armed with knives; they’d stood no chance against fully armed vampire hunters.

  Click-click.

  What good would it do the vampires to be able to get into the safe houses? Vampires could safely move about after dark, but most safe houses were empty after dark because the hunters went on patrol.

  Click-click.

  Conceivably the vampires could enter after dark and then wait for the hunters to come back, but still, they would be heavily armed and alert. Not a smart idea.

  Click-click.

  They could lie low and wait until the hunters went to bed, but you’re running the risk of getting discovered, and most safe houses were open during the day so sneaking around wouldn’t work.

  Click-click.

  Besides, vampires were weaker during the day, even when they were inside.

  Click—

  I stopped; a round held against the top of the magazine and stared into space. What if the base assumption was wrong?

  —click.

  The assumption was based on the incident here, at the Falcon. The couple’s missing daughter had been turned, but all that meant was that the couple’s missing daughter had been turned, nothing more.