A Little Bit Vampy

by A. A. Albright

  He sat back, frowning. ‘But what are you talking about, Abby? I haven’t done anything to put the fae in danger. How could I? I’m just a poor, sick, lonely old man.’

  He looked genuinely confused, but I knew by now that he was a good actor.

  ‘You’ve caused vampires to fear the fae,’ I said. ‘They think we’re going to wipe them out.’

  ‘Oh.’ He chuckled. ‘Well, I didn’t say anything to anybody, but if vampires are scared of you, my darling Aisling, then I’m quite happy. You know I detest vampires more than almost anything in the world.’ He gave me a beady-eyed stare. ‘You’re not still hanging about with that Jared Montague, are you?’

  I let out a small shriek of frustration. ‘Arnold, Gunnar Lucien says you were bullying him in here. Tripping him up and taunting him. He says that you told him that the fae are going to destroy all of vampire-kind. You needn’t keep denying it. Gunnar’s already told the whole of the supernatural world.’

  Again, he looked confused. ‘It’s true that I’ve tripped Gunnar up once or twice. I mean, he’s a vampire. Why wouldn’t I? But I didn’t tell him what your blood could do, my dear. You’re my granddaughter. I’d never put you at risk.’

  My mother sat forward. ‘So you knew then, did you? That the sióga blood could wipe out all aspects of vampirism.’

  ‘Well of course I knew. I had a lot of the rooms at the Daily Riddler bugged before I was thrown unfairly into prison. I knew but … as I said I’d never spread it around. Funnily enough though, I did have a dream that I told Gunnar about it all. The dream felt uncannily real.’

  I looked carefully at him, resisting the urge to punch the table. Angry, me? ‘You didn’t have a dream, Arnold. You were compelled.’ And considering this was Witchfield Prison, where vampires were supposed to have their powers blocked, that was a very big problem. The magic that Vlad’s Boys were drawing on had been strong enough to beat my father and me during Nollaig’s wedding. Now, it looked like it was strong enough to beat the safeguards at Witchfield, too.

  Arnold began to shake, and to brush his skin off frantically, as though he were wiping off something foul. ‘You mean to tell me that a filthy vampire got his claws into me?’

  ‘Yes, Dad,’ said my mother. ‘You’ve told Vlad’s Boys everything they wanted to know. But don’t you worry about it. You’ve only put Aisling, Brian, and countless other people I love in danger.’

  9. What’s With All the Sticks?

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ asked Dylan. He was draining some spaghetti and adding it to a cheesy sauce. We had been due to have a tomato sauce, but after seeing Greg’s fountain the day before, I didn’t think I could stomach it. Funnily enough, my aversion didn’t extend to the red wine I was sipping. I guess I’d have to chalk it up to one of life’s little mysteries.

  ‘I was just wondering what you’d look like hanging upside down in a coffin. Is that something you ever felt the need to do, back when you were a vampire?’

  He let out a ferocious snort of laughter. ‘As if! You live with the Montagues, Ash. You know perfectly well that very few vampires go in for that sort of thing.’

  ‘I know. It’s just all this stuff with Greg is so downright weird. I didn’t think he would be so big as a bat. I think I’ll be disturbed by the memory for a very long time to come.’

  ‘He doesn’t need to be big. If he’s really got the power that Pru seems to think, then he could shift to a much smaller bat. He just wants to fit in that stupid adapted coffin of his. Come over here. Taste this and tell me if it needs anything else.’

  I happily obliged, tasting the sauce. It was perfect, which I grudgingly told him. ‘And that’s all the praise you’re going to get as far as this sauce is concerned,’ I added. ‘You already know you’re an amazing chef.’

  He shook his head, chuckling. ‘I’m not as good a chef as I am a kisser,’ he said. ‘And right now there’s a tiny bit of sauce on the corner of your mouth that I really want to kiss.’

  Just as he was leaning towards me, a loud ‘Ahem,’ echoed through the lighthouse.

  We jumped apart to see my grandmother, sitting on the kitchen counter and chewing on a piece of garlic bread.

  ‘Just because you can go anywhere you want doesn’t mean you should,’ I muttered. ‘Why are you here anyway? I’ve not got another lesson for days.’

  ‘That was true – but I’m going to rejig your schedule, I think. You should be practising more than ever, given that I’m convinced Vlad’s Boys are about to make their move very, very soon. I saw them myself this afternoon, at the Crossroads. Darina Berry, Bella Foyle, and some hapless chap I didn’t recognise. A wizard, by the looks of him.’

  The garlic bread looked good, so I chewed some myself. ‘It’s a wonder that they let themselves be seen.’

  ‘Is it?’ my grandmother challenged. ‘After what happened on that terrible afternoon show, I’m just surprised they haven’t got a whole gaggle of vampires trying to break through my wards and kill me.’

  ‘Oh.’ My appetite suddenly waned. ‘Mam and Dad told you, then. I suppose you’re here to tell me it’s all my fault for wanting to cure the dayturner virus.’

  ‘Of course they told me. But not before a hundred other people had.’ She reached out and stroked my hair. ‘And no, I’m not going to tell you it’s all your fault. We all knew this could go badly if news got out. I’m not sorry for one minute that I offered my people’s blood to help the cure.’ She smiled softly. ‘The fae are the most powerful beings in the known magical world. Of course someone’s going to come along every now and then and try to take us down a peg or two.’

  Even though she was saying the right things, I could sense worry behind her words. ‘Come for a lesson tomorrow morning,’ she said. ‘And evening.’ Before I could protest she said, ‘No excuses,’ and disappeared from the kitchen.

  I turned to Dylan. ‘I wasn’t going to protest. If she thinks I need more lessons, then I need more lessons. Although I don’t know how much good I’m going to be, if it comes down to it. I never should have let the cure get out. I should have given it to you, and only you.’

  He pulled me against his chest. ‘It’s done now. No point crying over spilled milk. Or spilled blood, come to think of it. Look, we’ll figure out what Vlad’s Boys are drawing on, and then we’ll know what we’re dealing with. Until then, you need to eat some delicious cheesy pasta. Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ I grumbled, watching as he ladled some into a bowl and passed it my way. ‘But I just … I don’t get it, Dylan. What could Vlad’s Boys have against the sióga? Last I checked the sióga were a peace-loving people who helped witches out more times than they deserved.’

  ‘They?’ Dylan cocked a dark brow.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I’m part-witch. But that’s not the part of me they’re going to target, is it? Dylan … my grandmother is worried. Which means I’m worried.’

  He kissed the top of my head. ‘As am I. So eat your pasta, Miss Smith. You’ll need your strength.’

  I started to eat my food – a little listlessly, it must be said – when the phone began to ring. As he answered it and listened, his expression was unreadable. Finally, he said, ‘Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can,’ and ended the call.

  ‘That was Night and Gale,’ he informed me. ‘Claire is awake.’

  ≈

  Claire was sitting up in a private room at Night and Gale when we arrived. She looked drawn and pale, nervously chewing on her ice and looking at everything in the room as if it were about to kill her.

  ‘I know you,’ she said as we walked in, narrowing her eyes in my direction. ‘I saw you in my café on opening day.’

  ‘I’m Aisling Smith,’ I told her. ‘I work for the Daily Riddler. And this is Garda Detective Dylan Quinn. He works out of the station in Riddler’s Edge. Did the … doctors … explain that we’d be along to talk to you?’

  ‘Doctors?’ she spat. ‘They’re not doctors. They’re … I don’t
know what they are. I don’t know what’s happening to me, or why I’m here.’ She swallowed. ‘I saw a girl flying when I looked out the window a little while ago. On a broom. And don’t tell me it’s the drugs I’m on, because I know what I saw.’

  ‘You do,’ I admitted. What was the point in lying? In a short while, Claire would be given some memory-altering spells. She’d forget all about what happened in the alley behind her café, and about her stay at Night and Gale. In the meantime, I needed her memory intact. I also needed her to be a little less scared. ‘You know what you saw, and I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise. It’s all right, Claire. Me and Detective Quinn, we’re here to make sure you’re safe.’

  ‘You are?’ she said in a squeaky voice. ‘You’ll protect me against the evil witches?’

  ‘We will indeed,’ promised Dylan, playing along. ‘But first, you need to tell us everything that you remember about what happened in the alley behind your café. That’s the only way we can find those horrible witches and make sure they never hurt anyone again.’

  She sat back and said, ‘Phew!’

  ‘Phew indeed.’ Dylan’s mouth seemed to be struggling not to quirk into a smile. ‘So can you tell us, Claire? Who hurt you?’

  She tossed back the rest of her ice, crunched it loudly and said, ‘Okay, so I was chatting away with Mark Moon just before it happened. He’s so gorgeous. Do you know him?’

  ‘We know him,’ I confirmed.

  ‘Well, I hope I’m going to get to know him a lot better. I mean, I can’t think why I’ve never met him before now, to be honest. We went to the same college, even attended the same festivals. I was at his farm last Halloween for the Turnip Maze. It’s almost like the universe is pulling us apart, don’t you think?’

  Dylan and I gave her some non-committal nods. It wasn’t so much the universe, I thought – more like an old wizard who didn’t want his grandson going wild. If anything, the universe was pulling them back together, over and over again, no matter how hard Felim tried to stop it in its tracks.

  I glanced at Dylan. I’d fantasised about a man like him, long before I ever met him. A guy who owned a lighthouse, enjoyed carpentry in his spare time, and had a penchant for serving up coffee whilst in his bare feet.

  Sure, he hadn’t been quite so ornery in my fantasies, but … wasn’t it just a little bit amazing that I’d met someone who I’d wished for? Maybe there was such a thing as destiny. And if there was, then maybe that was what was bringing Claire and Mark together, again and again.

  ‘Anyway, we were going to go on a date once I’d finished work,’ she continued. ‘He was taking me to see his tractor, then we were going to have some turnip stew, and then we were going to go to the cinema.’ She had a dreamy look about her. ‘Sorry, where was I?’

  ‘The alley,’ I reminded her. ‘That’s where I found you.’ I decided it was best not to mention that Mark was with me when I did find her. She didn’t need any more excuses to talk about him. I just wished I knew where he was now. My dad and Felim still had no luck in tracking him, though they weren’t giving up just yet.

  ‘Right. Yeah. I was out back putting out the bins, when this woman came up, all wrapped up in a big coat and hat, and sunglasses too. Except … there were two of them?’ She frowned. ‘Yeah, there were. There were two women, dressed exactly the same. Red heels, black dress and coat, and a hat and dark glasses. I was just about to ask them if they were twins when an awful purple van appeared, out of nowhere.’

  Dylan sat forward. ‘Did you say a purple van?’

  Claire nodded. ‘A Volkswagen, I think. If it weren’t absolutely impossible, then I’d be telling you that it flew into the alley.’ She gazed at me. ‘But then again, I saw a girl on a broom, didn’t I, so who knows what’s possible with all of these evil witches?’

  She took in a deep breath and continued. ‘Anyway, a stupid-looking man got out of it. He was wearing a cloak, and had powdered skin. He looked a lot like the Count on Sesame Street, only without the monocle and chin-beard. He pointed a stick at the woman.’ She scratched her head. ‘I don’t know which woman, but I remember thinking that there was suddenly only one woman, and not two like I thought at first.’

  I nodded encouragingly. Whoever Dymphna had been disguised as had obviously taken off just as the purple van arrived. ‘You’re doing really well, Claire. What happened next?’

  ‘Well, like I said, he had a stick. Except the way he was holding it and pointing it at her, I thought it might be some weird kind of gun. Because he looked so … so evil. I mean, he looked ridiculous, too, but totally evil. Anyway, I marched right over there and told him to get lost.’

  ‘That was very brave of you,’ Dylan commented. ‘Some might even say stupid.’

  ‘I grew up on a farm,’ she replied. ‘Driving tractors and birthing lambs since I was three, so I was. A life like that puts hair on your chest. I wasn’t about to let some stupid-looking man in an ugly van kill that poor woman. I told him to do one. Said he was on my property, and I was going to call the gardaí if he didn’t scarper.’

  Claire sighed. ‘Well, maybe I shouldn’t have been so brave. Because he didn’t scarper. He pointed the stick at me instead. I felt my body fly through the air, then crash to the ground, and then … well, then I woke up here. In a hospital where so-called doctors are carrying sticks just like he was. At first I thought they were going to try and kill me too. I mean, what’s with all the sticks?’

  ‘They have stethoscopes too,’ said Dylan. ‘But … that’s not the point, is it? Claire, could you tell us more about the man in the cloak? Was he tall and thin or short and chubby?’

  She shrugged. ‘I … I don’t know. Light came out of his stick. It was kind of dazzling, so I didn’t get a proper look at him. But I think … I think the stick might have been purple, too. Like the van. Oh, and it was sparkly. Yeah, yeah that’s right – the stick was definitely sparkly.’

  ≈

  As we walked out of Claire’s room, I felt like throwing up the little bit of pasta I’d eaten for dinner. ‘She can’t have gotten it right. She must have been mistaken.’

  ‘Must she?’ Dylan challenged. ‘She got everything else right. There probably were two women who looked exactly the same when Claire arrived in that alley. Shane found evidence of a doppelganger potion in Dymphna’s stomach.’

  ‘I know,’ I huffed. ‘I just don’t want it to be true.’

  ‘You mean the fact that the murderer drove a flying purple van and waved a sparkly purple stick about?’ He sighed. ‘Yeah, well, I don’t want it to be true either. But Claire’s certainly not lying, so I guess we’d better go and check in with Greg. I mean Gregariad.’

  10. A Very Compelling Gentleman

  ‘I can kind of see how I might have become an evil vampire who murdered Greg, had Pru’s prophecy come true,’ said Dylan, as we arrived outside Greg’s flat. ‘But I would never have built a fountain like that.’

  ‘Don’t be so sure,’ I replied, knocking on the door of the flat. ‘You might have built something even worse.’

  ‘I doubt that’s possible.’

  I looked at the blood-red water pouring out of the mouths of the screaming villagers, and shrugged. ‘You’re probably right.’

  As we waited for Greg to answer, I was sure I heard female laughter inside. Not just any female laughter, but specifically Pru’s. We’d watched enough episodes of Be My Witch and the Vamp Factor together for me to recognise her laugh when I heard it. Technically the Vamp Factor was a talent contest rather than a comedy, but sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.

  ‘Pru said she was going to see Cassandra,’ I told Dylan. ‘It can’t be her.’

  ‘Oh, but it is her,’ said Pru with a glassy smile, pulling open Greg’s door. Her usual jeans and gypsy shirt had been replaced by a floor-length, figure-hugging evening gown. Her make-up was always dramatic, but now it was bordering on insane. And as for her hair, it looked as though it had been back-combed by a t
ime-travelling hairdresser from the eighties.

  ‘You em …’ said Dylan, clearing his throat. ‘You look … different. We need to speak to Greg, Pru. Is he around?’

  She held the door wide. ‘But of course. My master is inside.’

  Dylan and I shared a terrified glance, before I looked back at Pru. ‘What do you mean your master? Greg isn’t your master, Pru. He’s a power-crazed wizard who needs a good shake by the shoulders is what he is.’ I marched inside. ‘Greg! Get your behind out here right now.’

  Greg appeared in front of us. ‘Pru, my darling.’ He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Go and get me some fresh blood, will you?’

  She gave him a simpering smile. ‘But of course, master.’

  While Pru teetered off to the kitchen on spike-heeled shoes, Dylan and I stared at Greg. ‘We have a witness that places you at the scene of a crime yesterday evening,’ said Dylan. ‘Where were you at six p.m.?’

  Greg looked at Pru. ‘I don’t know about that, but I do know where I was at six this evening.’ He pulled her close and she giggled.

  ‘Whatever this is about,’ said Pru. ‘I doubt Gregariad was involved.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘And as for yesterday evening, you told me you were compelling a goblet-maker to make a new set of goblets for you. Isn’t that right, master?’

  ‘Ah yes.’ He returned her kiss, but on the lips instead of the cheek, and with a whole lot of fervour. When he finally pulled away, he showed us his fangs. ‘That’s exactly what I was doing yesterday evening. You can get in touch with him if you like. He works in a little shop on Warren Lane. Although he might be sleeping at the moment, seeing as I did work him rather hard.’

  ‘And your van?’ Dylan pressed, somehow managing not to punch Greg. ‘I didn’t see it in the car park outside.’

  Greg shrugged. ‘I gave it away.’

  ‘To who?’ I asked.