If Lisa noticed my moping, she didn’t say anything. I think she was still holding a bit of a grudge over my insult to her book. Of course it was difficult to tell whether she was upset with me or too engrossed in her book to pay me much attention. Either way, I barely got more than a few sentences out of her all day and, when I left at the end of my shift, I got a grunt and a half wave.
The idea of a couple of hours’ sleep made me pick up speed on the way home. That optimism was crushed, though, the second I entered the front doors of my building. My landlord, Mr Jackson was hovering and he made a bee-line for me before I’d even closed the door.
“Ah, just the person I was hoping to see,” he said before bearing his teeth at me like he was in pain.
“Um... Hi,” I said, unsure of exactly what he was doing. “Is there a problem? Rent’s not for another two weeks.”
“Oh no, there are no problems, nothing at all.” He did the strange thing with his teeth again.
“Okay, well that’s good, then,” I said, making a break for the stairs. “See you round.”
“Right,” Mr Jackson said but, instead of finishing the conversation, he jumped into action and followed me up the stairs. I didn’t slow my pace.
“I just wanted to apologise for our little misunderstanding before.”
I frowned. We’d had some arguments in our time but I didn’t think any of them classed as misunderstandings. I walked a little faster, enjoying the fact that Mr Jackson seemed to be struggling to climb the stairs and talk at the same time. Well, maybe climbing up to the tenth floor would encourage him to get the one and only lift fixed?
“If I’d understood the extent of your problem, I would of course have taken the time to look at the security problems in your flat.”
If I hadn’t heard my bed calling to me, I’d have stopped in disbelief. What was he going on about? He knew very well the extent of my security problems and he’d never given a damn.
For a couple of flights we were silent, except for Mr Jackson heaving like we were about to top Mount Everest.
“Faine, please,” he said, coming to a halt. “Please, I’m not a young man; I can’t climb the stairs as well as I could in my younger days.”
I finally stopped. His comment would have been enough to give me a stab of guilt, but there were plenty of people older than him who’d had to climb these stairs every day for two months because the lift didn’t work.
Mr Jackson held out a set of keys to me. “These are your new door keys. I’ve had a locksmith here today and he’s changed your locks to a new design that has two different locks which are virtually impossible to pick.” He paused to take another couple of deep breaths before continuing. “I also had him fit a safety bolt on the inside of your door as well.” He bared his teeth at me again and I suddenly realised that he was smiling. Now I knew why he never smiled; he looked like the Cheshire cat with its leg caught in a bear trap.
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely pleased despite the creepy smile. “How much do I owe you?”
“No charge. Let’s just call it necessary building maintenance.”
“What?” He wasn’t known for his generosity. “You’re not going to charge me?”
He shook his head.
I narrowed my eyes. “Can I put a wreath on my door at Christmas?”
A squeak actually escaped Mr Jackson’s mouth and a flash of anger crossed his face before the creepy face was back, except now it resembled more of a grimace.
“Of course,” he managed to grind out.
Now I knew something was wrong. Last year we’d had more arguments than I could count over the fact that he wouldn’t let me put up a wreath. I was just about to ask what the hell was going on when a thought clicked into place.
Two people today had come to me with apologies and gifts. I’d had problems with them both ever since I’d moved in and then suddenly, on the same day, they both just happened to see the error of their ways? I didn’t think so. I studied Mr Jackson a little more closely; he was just as jittery as Ben had been, clearly hating every second of this but doing it anyway.
“Have you, by any chance, met my new friend? About six feet tall, brown hair, in his thirties, very handsome?” I asked.
Mr Jackson visibly flinched. “Yes, you can tell him that I did what he said and that I have unpickable locks on my own door too, so if he has any more complaints he’ll have to knock.” With that he scuttled off down the stairs.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered to myself as I finished the climb. It seemed like I’d just found myself my very own, rather scary fairy godmother.
As I shut the door to my flat and slid the bolt across, I couldn’t help but grin and it stayed pasted on my face until I collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep in seconds.
Chapter 6
It took everything I had not to tap my fingers nervously as I waited for Holt to arrive. When I’d left for my shift at the pub yesterday, the sight of the brand new bolt on my door had been enough to make me call Holt and ask if he could come and answer more questions I had.
Being my day off from the café, it had meant that I could lie in until ten and still have a couple of hours to clean like mad before Holt arrived. It wasn’t that my place was particularly messy, but I was nervous. I felt the way people must feel when their parents are coming to visit. So I’d cleaned and tidied and then realised that he’d only seen my home two days ago and so he’d realise if it was suddenly spotlessly clean. Sadly, I’d then spent several minutes making the place look slightly less tidy by leaving a book on the coffee table, a mug on the side in the kitchen and a jumper over the back of the armchair. Then I’d sat down and tried to convince myself that this behaviour was completely normal for someone in my situation.
Holt arrived spot on one o’clock, just as we’d arranged. He again looked exquisite, this time wearing a brown leather jacket over a white shirt. I had to admit that I was impressed by his gentlemanly manners of holding doors, umbrellas and being punctual. It didn’t escape my notice that he had a subtle check of the locks on the door when he thought I wasn’t looking.
He followed me into the living room. I wasn’t sure if I should offer to take his jacket and, before I could make a decision, he’d taken it off and draped it over his lap as he sat on the sofa. I sat on the armchair opposite him.
“How are you?” Holt asked.
“I’m good, very good actually,” I said, studying Holt’s expression.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” Holt replied.
“In fact yesterday was a very productive day for me,” I continued.
“Really?” Holt’s expression didn’t change.
“Yes. Not only did the little bugger from down the hall return the money he’d stolen and swear he’d never break in again, but my landlord decided to change my locks and fit a bolt, free of charge.”
“Well that was a good day,” Holt said, still giving nothing away.
I grinned. Was he really going to sit there and pretend he had nothing to do with it?
“Oh and Mr Jackson said to tell you that he did what you’d asked and that he also has unpickable locks now, so if you have any further complaints, you’ll have to knock.”
Holt lost his look of innocence and frowned. “Bloody hell, I told him not to mention me.”
“Well, in all fairness, he didn’t. I figured it out and asked if he’d had a run in with you; he just didn’t deny it.”
“You figured it out?” Holt asked.
“Well yeah, it wasn’t that difficult,” I laughed. “I mean neither Ben nor Mr Jackson have ever been the least bit scared of me and yet there they were with their tails tucked between their legs and almost trembling in fear. Do I even want to know what you did to them?”
“I didn’t do anything. I just had a little chat with them,” Holt said.
“A chat?” I said sceptically.
“Yes, I can be very persuasive.”
I raised my eyebrows, “Clearly, and I’m ve
ry grateful that you are.”
A small smile touched Holt’s mouth but he squirmed a little and glanced down at his hands. It dawned on me that he was uncomfortable with my gratitude. It felt good to have learned something about him, even if it was something as simple as the fact that he clearly wasn’t one for sentimental moments. I had to hold back a smile as I tried to imagine how he would react if I threw my arms around him and gave him a great big bear hug.
“I’m glad you called,” Holt said, eager to change the topic.
“Well, I’m not sure you’ll be thinking that when you leave,” I admitted. “I have a whole list of questions I want to ask.”
Holt smiled, “I thought you might.”
I wriggled in my seat a little so that I could reach the folded pieces of paper in my back pocket. I flipped them open to reveal a page load of questions that I’d jotted down over the last couple of days.
Holt’s eyebrows lifted. “Better get started with those now, then; don’t you have to be at work by six?”
I chose to ignore his sarcasm and started with the interrogation.
“Are the stories about churches, crosses and holy water true?” I asked, although I expected I already knew the answer. After all, I’d never had a problem with any of them.
“Most of them are myths,” Holt confirmed. “We’re not affected by holy water, churches, crosses, garlic or daylight.”
“Daylight doesn’t bother you at all?”
“No, and we don’t sleep in coffins either.”
That had been a question from further down my list. I wasn’t sure if he’d mentioned it because it was appropriate or because he’d somehow seen it from across the room, but I tilted my list slightly away from him anyway. Some of the questions had been difficult to word and so I’d written them rather bluntly. I didn’t want to risk him seeing and getting upset.
“What about stakes?” I asked.
“True,” he replied. “The only ways to kill a vampire are by either fully decapitating him with something made of silver or wood, or piercing his heart with a sharp wooden or silver object like a stake or a dagger.”
“You said ‘him’, does that meant there aren’t female vampires?”
“There are, but they’re a lot rarer than the males.”
“And how is it that you can’t die from anything else?” I was aware the question sounded blunt and decided to try to sugar-coat the rest of them.
“Our blood has healing qualities.”
I’d thought that might be the case. I’d almost cut my attacker’s face in half and it had healed within a minute.
“So you can heal any wound? Even if you fell from a multi-storey building?”
“Yes. Older vampires are stronger and heal quicker. A small cut with a knife, I can heal in seconds. If I fell off a multi-storey building I’d most likely land on my feet.”
“Like a cat?”
There was a moment’s pause and I realised that maybe Holt didn’t take kindly to being compared to a cat. Definitely time to start sugar-coating.
“Yes,” he finally answered.
“I think I’m somewhere in the middle with that one,” I told him. “When I get a cut or a bruise, it does heal faster than other people but it still takes a couple of days.” I paused in thought before going back to my list. “You said that there are vampire laws, what are they?”
“Most of them are the standard ones against theft, rape, murder – all the usual things – but our punishments are a lot harsher. The punishment for unlawful murder is death.”
“What do you mean, ‘unlawful murder’?” I asked, catching the look of discomfort that passed over Holt’s face.
“Vampires are a very territorial breed which means we have very strict rules when it comes to land, possessions and mates. If a vampire caused any serious harm to another vampire’s mate then it would be considered fair for the first vampire to kill the second.”
“What do you mean, mate? Like... a lover?” I asked.
“No. A vampire’s mate is considered their soul mate. It’s a very rare thing to find and, if it is found, it’s a far stronger thing than human love, it’s a life-long bond and, for a vampire, there is no saying how long that will be for.”
“How old are you, then?” I blurted before I realised how rude it might seem.
“Just over eight hundred years old. Twenty-seven of them as a human, the rest as a vampire.”
All I could do for a while was blink. Eight hundred years old? That was incredible. That meant that he’d witnessed first-hand most of the events I’d studied in history.
“Are all vampires that...” I trailed off, wondering if vampires were as sensitive as humans about being called old. “I mean, have most vampires been around for that long?”
“There are a few that are older but the majority are younger than me.”
I was amazed. The world was filled with historians who studied artefacts to try and discover secrets from the past and yet there were a whole race of people who could tell us what it was really like in medieval times. It was truly mind-boggling to think that during Holt’s lifetime he’d have seen the invention of almost everything that I took for granted every day. TVs, computers, electricity, running water, cars, aeroplanes, supermarkets, flushing toilets and tarmac had all, at one time, been a new-fangled invention to Holt. It gave me a whole new impression of Rillith. There would be vampires there who’d seen both world wars, been around when the Titanic sank and seen every king and queen that had sat on the throne.
“What’s Rillith like?” I asked Holt. “Because when I try and picture the home of almost a thousand vampires in Scotland, all I can imagine is a very large, very creepy haunted house on a hill, an Adams family type of place. But when I look at you, I get more of a James Bond, life of luxury impression.”
I didn’t miss the pleased look that crossed Holt’s face as I compared him to James Bond.
“I can assure you that there’s nothing at all creepy about Rillith. In fact it’s quite the opposite. I’m glad you’ve brought it up, though, as there’s something more I must tell you before I can expect you to decide if you’ll come back with me or not.”
“I’m going to be honest,” I said. “That sounds a little ominous.”
“I was debating whether to tell you yesterday but I thought that might be throwing too much at you at one go.”
“Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever. Hit me with it,” I said, hoping that I wouldn’t regret it.
Chapter 7
Holt shifted position, making himself more comfortable before beginning his revelation.
“Vampires are ruled by a governing body. They’re a group called The Sénat and they’re the oldest vampires in existence. There used to be thirteen of them but, over time, the numbers have dwindled down to five. If you decide to come with me to Rillith, I’ll have to present you to them so that they can determine whether or not you can stay.”
“They’d turn me away? But what about the fact that I know so much about you now; won’t they worry that I’ll go blabbing to anyone that listens?”
“In all the homes where vampires live, there are also humans. They’re usually people who’ve had bad lives previously or were homeless but, when we find people that we think would like a better life, we give them the chance to live with us. They’re given accommodation rent-free as long as they agree to either repay us in blood or labour.”
I felt the colour drain from my face as unease squeezed my insides like a boa constrictor. Vampires drank blood; everyone knew that, whether they believed in vampires or not, but to hear him talk about it so casually was disconcerting.
“They’re willing to let you drink from them?” I couldn’t hide the disgust that I felt.
Holt nodded. “We only take a small amount; less than what's taken if you give blood. It’s not an entirely unpleasant experience, most people enjoy it.”
I found that impossible to believe, but I kept my mouth shut so that he could fini
sh telling me what he needed to say.
“If The Sénat deems that you’re not a half-vampire, then it may be the case that they ask you to live in the human residences, not working as staff but more as a permanent guest.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t really sure what reaction I was supposed to have. “So they’ll judge me and decide whether I’m worthy to live with them.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. The thought of being judged by a group of ancient old vampires didn’t seem like much fun.
“I need to tell you that if you come, you need to be completely honest when you meet them. One of The Sénat members, Eliseo, has the ability to sense your emotions, so while he won’t be able to tell if you’re lying directly, he may be able to tell something is wrong if your emotions don’t match what you’re saying.”
I nodded, trying to take it all in. “If they decided that I wasn’t half-vampire, would I have to live with the staff for the rest of my life?”
“No. The staff we have there are very well looked after and they want for nothing. They’re usually so happy that they want to stay, but they’re only allowed to stay up until the age of thirty, then they have to leave. But in payment for their silence, The Sénat give them a handsome payoff, enough to make sure they’ll live the rest of their lives comfortably. I think that’s what would happen with you too.”
Thirty? That was pretty young for retirement age. I felt a little sick as I thought that maybe blood was the opposite of wine and it didn’t get better with age. I filed the thought away to be dealt with later.
“So every member of staff gets paid off? The Sénat must have a lot of money.”
“They do. The majority of vampires that exist choose to work for The Sénat and some of those jobs are making sure that money is well-invested and spent, to make sure there’s always more than enough to cover the costs of things like staff and housing.”
“So do you work for them?”
“Yes, I used to be an enforcer but now I’m... well, I don’t know what my official job title would be but I’m generally used as a mediator and a translator.”
“What’s an enforcer?”
Where Loyalty Lies Page 5