Serafina and the Silent Vampire

CHAPTER Eighteen


Ailis sat on the bed at Phil’s side, her wrist to his mouth. He drank her powerful blood greedily, watching her all the time, like a baby being fed by its mother. She stroked his hair with her free hand. “Poor Phil. You’ll do better now. Especially if you stay away from Blair.”

Gentle but firm, she detached her wrist from his teeth and watched the wound close up almost immediately.

Phil licked his teeth. “Thank you.” The thought was like a sigh as he drifted into a proper rest, free now of all but the dullest pain.

Ailis glanced up at Blair. “You look as if you could use some too. Going after him was foolish. You could both have died.”

“We didn’t.” Blair took her outstretched hand but merely kissed it before releasing it. “I’m fine.”

“The psychic girl’s blood is so strong?”

“I haven’t drunk her blood since it happened.”

“Why ever not?”

“I’m saving it for rainy day. What was the monster show at her window all about?”

Ailis laughed. “It was Sebastian’s idea. We thought it would be amusing, which it was, although rather more at Sebastian’s expense than he’d intended. The humans didn’t react as he’d hoped.”

“They’ve got too used to vampires to be more than wary. If you want the screaming ab-dabs, you’ll have to go elsewhere.”

Blair walked out of the bedroom and across the hall to the sitting room, where he poured two glasses of whisky from the bottle Phil hadn’t got around to.

Ailis took the proffered glass from him. “I’m glad to see you keeping your promise to me and looking after things here.”

Blair curled his lip. “What, presiding over an invasion of zombie vampires obedient to a perverse human? Yes, I’ve looked after things extraordinarily well.”

“So, you’re dealing with it before it gets out of hand. My only criticism is that you’re relying too much on humans.”

“They can do it. If we take care of the vampires.”

“I could take care of Smith.”

“I’m sure you could. Physically.”

Ailis smiled. Her eyed flashed green, then black. “I have other weapons in my arsenal.”

Blair, who knew he hadn’t discovered anything like all of them, merely drank his whisky and murmured, “I know you do.”

Ailis sat on the sofa and stroked its velvet arm with one hand. She smiled. “Ingenious and amusing idea, though. Smith’s. And banking. Why didn’t we think of it?”

Her gaze held his, and he let it. He said, “I don’t know.”

****

“Energy,” Sera said, sitting bolt upright on her living room floor. It was still dark. Beside her, Jilly groaned and pulled the sleeping bag over her ears. “There’d be energy from a fight, wouldn’t there? That’s what he’s going to do. That’s why he brought the others, just as he said he would. To fight them long enough to give us energy.”

“Sounds like comic-book nonsense to me,” Jack said, his voice muffled from the other side of the room.

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Melanie said sleepily from the sofa.

“And it serves the double purpose of keeping their numbers down,” Sera added.

“Unless he’s joining them,” Jilly said, pushing the sleeping bag down from her face and propping her chin on her hand.

“Then why plant protection on us?” Sera asked, jerking her hand toward the hall, where they could hear the vampire pacing.

“Doesn’t have to be protection. Could be a spy. Or an assassin.”

“Well, he’s clearly a crap assassin,” Sera said wryly. What’s more, he was getting nervous about the approaching dawn. Waves of unease, instinctive and unhidden, rolled into her from him. Since everyone was now awake, she called, “Hey, Sebastian!”

The vampire didn’t appear to her command. But he did speak flippantly inside her head. “You rang?”

“Feel free to leave whenever you want,” she offered.

“I do. This is too good a time to attack, when they assume Blair has stood down. I’ll wait as long as I can. But I apologize in advance for any abrupt exit.”

“You’re very polite,” she observed.

There was a pregnant pause. “Not always.”

When the vampire had finally bolted, they ate breakfast. To Sera, it felt curiously like the last supper. After which, Jilly took Melanie off to her flat, Jack and Elspeth were sent to open Serafina’s as normal. And Sera went to see Ferdinand Bell.

As he opened the front door to her, she tugged down the string of garlic hanging above it. His eyes dilated. “Jason’s dead?”

“No more than he has been since the night of the party.” She stepped past him, reaching up to unhook the nearest cross from the hall wall. “I thought you’d have realized by now that this stuff doesn’t work. Jason’s been here since he was turned, you know.”

“But he didn’t harm us.”

“That’s to do with you and Jason, not this. It’s time it came down.” She walked into the nearest room, unstringing garlic, unhooking crosses and dropping them into the capacious bag she’d brought for the purpose. “It doesn’t work, Mr. Bell. I was winding you up because I didn’t believe in vampires, and I didn’t really think you did either. Turns out life—and death—is rather more complicated than that. But this stuff doesn’t help. I’ll take it all down for you.”

He followed her from room to room, watching and holding the ladder for her where necessary. Having something to do made it easier to talk. “I’m sorry I didn’t earn the fee I charged you. If it makes you feel better, I believe Jason would have been turned anyway. The events at the party just led me to understand what was going on. It’s a conspiracy, headed by a human but involving the creation of obedient vampires in the financial sector. I think I know how to stop it, and if I’m right, tomorrow things will be back to normal. Jason may be totally dead by then. I’m sorry, and I’ll arrange your refund.”

She dropped another cross into the bag and folded the ladder.

Ferdy took it from her with a sad little smile. “A refund won’t be necessary. You may not have earned your fee that night, but you earned it since. I’m a stupid, gullible old fool, but at least I know you’re looking after us—and Jason—as best you can.”

Sera’s throat closed up. There were other things she wanted to ask him, about his wishes for Jason, but it was the wrong time to ask. She’d no idea if Jason would survive in any form, and if he did, what kind of a vampire he’d make without Smith’s hold.

Ferdy said, “Can I help at all?”

Sera looked at him. “Maybe you can. Pray. After dark, think of me—and of Jason—and pray as hard as you can.”

His smile was lopsided. “Is that to keep me out of the way?”

Sera’s lips quirked unhappily in response. “Yes,” she admitted. “And to give me all the positive energy I can get.”

****

Melanie had set all her stuff up on a table under Jilly’s living room window, which overlooked Holyrood Park. Jilly’s tenement flat was two floors up, and if you looked to the right, you could glimpse Holyrood Palace—scene of gruesome murder in the reign of Mary Queen of Scots and present-day official Edinburgh residence of Queen Elizabeth. Directly in front were some trees and a large expanse of green grass, beyond which was the loch, surrounded by people feeding ducks and swans, and the distinctive hill known as Arthur’s Seat.

Sera, enjoying the brief spell of peace along with the beauty of the view, felt as if she were playing hooky. Melanie had gone shopping, and Jilly’d gone back to Serafina’s, where Sera knew she should also be. Soon.

She tried to imagine what the park would look like tonight, full of battling vampires trying to kill each other while she and Mel tried to spell them into normal disobedience. There would be a huge crowd of banking vampires, many more than they’d seen at Smith’s. And against them would stand Blair, Ailis, Sebastian—and Phil, so badly burned he could barely move. To Sera, it didn’t look like good odds. Even once the obedience spell was broken, there was nothing to stop the banking vampires continuing to fight Blair just for the hell of it.

And what if she couldn’t summon the power Melanie needed? She’d never tried anything like this before. It was unknown and scary territory, and it would be a bloody awful time to fail. Oddly, it was only Blair’s faith in her ability that had made her agree to the attempt.

The door buzzer interrupted her rather bleak thoughts. She walked across the hall to answer, and a familiar voice said, “Hello. It’s Tam. Hello?” he added when surprise kept Sera silent.

“Tam, it’s Sera. Jilly’s at work.”

“I know. She told me I’d find you here.”

Sera pressed the button that released the lock and listened to the sound of Tam’s large feet running up the stairs.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked lightly as his bulk appeared outside the flat door. “Tea?”

“Sure.” The flat seemed to shrink as Tam filled the hall and then lowered himself into one of the kitchen chairs. She’d missed his large, comforting presence, his blunt, almost ugly features, and she felt a rush of affection as he fixed her with his serious gaze. “Jilly’s been telling me all the shite that actually went down at that vampire party. Could’ve knocked me down with a feather.” He leaned forward, offering his head. “You still could.”

“Run out of feathers,” Sera said dryly. “Weird happenings, eh?”

“And that bloke Blair, in the kilt—he really bit me, aye?”

“Aye. Do you still not remember it?”

Tam frowned. “No. It feels a bit hazy, to be honest. Didn’t seem to matter at the time, but looking back, I must have had some kind of dizzy turn. As if I’d drunk too much, you know? Only I didn’t. I don’t remember him speaking to me, yet I knew his name, so he must have. I wasn’t lying to you, Sera. That is, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know that, Tam. And I’m sorry I checked up on you. It was just such a bloody weird night, and in spite of everything I know about you, it still seemed more likely that you were in league with another scammer than that there really were vampires running around posh parties biting large men the size of houses.”

Tam nodded sagely. “I see what you mean.”

“And I think he told you his name telepathically. You must be slightly psychic.”

He looked stunned by that but accepted his mug of tea from her and drank thoughtfully before setting it down on the kitchen table. “Jilly says he’s actually the good guy.”

Sera dropped into the chair opposite him. “Blair?” she said in disbelief. “Jilly said that?”

“Well, better than the other bad guys.”

“He’s our ally. We think.”

“I’ll come over this evening,” Tam said casually, “and watch your back.”

Touched, Sera said, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Might as well. Not working until pantomime season.”

Sera smiled. “Thanks, Tam.”

“No bother.” He drained his mug and stood up. “Right, got a couple of things to do. I’ll bring some food in with me this evening.”

For some reason, Sera felt uplifted by Tam’s visit. Perhaps it was his calm acceptance of events or his forgiveness or just his stoic loyalty, but it all added up to a lot.

Why could I not love Tam? The wayward thought gate-crashed. She needed to avoid the L-word at all costs. But even burying herself in Melanie’s books and concentrating hard on what had been written about summoning and channeling energy couldn’t distract her from the knowledge that no one in her adult life had moved her as Blair did.

****

Alex McGowan’s patrol car was on its way back to the police station, driving past Serafina’s, when he spotted a well-known villain leaving her premises.

“Stop here a minute,” he said on impulse, and his partner obligingly pulled up at the curb. McGowan got out and walked across the street to the shop front. He’d wrestled a lot with himself over Serafina MacBride. From believing her to be the same scum of the earth who’d abused his mother’s grief to steal her entire life savings, he’d almost got to the stage of believing she could contact his dead sister if he could only make himself ask her.

And now lowlife Andy Kerr was visiting her.

Of course, Andy could have a spiritual side. Or Sera McBride could be involved in more serious crimes, like the Fountainbridge arson. Although he couldn’t quite imagine Sera’s reasons, Andy Kerr had been done for arson before.

McGowan opened the door and went in. The middle-aged receptionist was on the phone. The glamorous assistant—Jilly?—was at the desk behind her, staring intently at a computer screen. When McGowan coughed, she glanced up impatiently, then, presumably recognizing him, got to her feet and came toward him.

“Miss MacBride in?” Alex asked.

“No, sorry, she’s out right now. Can I take a message for her?”

“No thanks, Miss…?”

“Kerr. Jilly Kerr. We met the other night.”

Kerr? Sera MacBride worked with a Kerr? Alex held Jilly’s gaze. “Are you related to the gentleman who just left here?”

Her eyes changed, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on how. “That’s no gentleman, Constable. That’s my brother.”

“Does he work here too?”

“Andy? Work? Of course, he doesn’t.”

“Then can I ask what his business was here?”

Her eyes flashed. She really was extraordinarily pretty. “Not without a bloody good reason.”

“Arson investigation’s a bloody good reason.”

Her lips parted. Her gaze dropped, then returned to his. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure Andy had nothing to do with Fountainbridge, if that’s what you’re talking about. He came to borrow money off me, if you must know.”

“D’you give him any?”

“Do I look stupid?” she countered. In fact, some people might make that mistake. On one level, she possessed a sort of doll-like beauty which, combined with blonde hair and glamorous clothes certainly not chosen from the top-of-the-range shops, gave her something the look of a bimbette. But sharp intelligence positively gleamed in those china-blue eyes, and her mouth was far too quick.

“Actually, no,” he replied. “Seen anything of the elusive Mr. Blair?”

“Nah,” she said at once. She looked him in the eye, but for the first time, Alex was sure she was lying.

Behind him, he heard movement from the inner office. He hoped it was Sera, but he said nothing. Then, just as the silence was stretching too long, another voice called from the office.

“Jilly, I’m going back to your place to check up on Sera!”

“Okay,” Jilly called back, smoothing the instinctive crease of irritation from her brow. She hadn’t wanted him to know where Sera was. Why? What was going on at Jilly Kerr’s place?

Before he could enquire further, his phone went off. It was his partner, brief and to the point. “Shoplifter at the St. James Centre.”

Alex sighed. “On my way.”

****

Blair’s arrival at dusk took Sera by surprise. Sitting on Jilly’s living room sofa, picking at the vegetables Melanie insisted she eat instead of the fish supper Tam had brought her, she could hear Jilly telling someone off at the front door, but until he walked into the living room, she didn’t sense him at all.

“I’m masking,” he told her blandly when she glared at him.

“He won’t lead them here,” she interrupted Jilly’s tirade. “He’s covering his scent, or whatever it is they use to follow each other. I couldn’t sense him either.”

“Yes? Well, I’ll bet the cops can see him easily enough,” Jilly muttered.

Blair, who, she was sure, had taken in the occupants of the room at a glance, now gave them a longer sweep. Tam laid down his fish supper. Blair inclined his head.

Tam’s face colored a dull red. “You’re the bastard who bit me.”

Blair gave another ironic bow.

“Don’t dwell on it,” Sera advised. “He bites a lot of people.”

Blair smiled at her, revealing his fangs.

“F*ck,” said Tam.

Blair walked past him and Sera to the window. He appeared to allow Melanie’s accoutrements set out on the table a cursory glance; then he looked out at the park below.

“Smith was there earlier,” Sera reported. “Just taking a walk.”

“Did he look up here? Did he see you?”

“No. And no.”

Blair turned from the window. “You must all have stakes and be prepared to use them.”

“I thought you were going to take care of the fighting out there?” Sera retorted.

“There are a lot of vampires. I can’t guarantee to engage them all. If you’re uncovered, you’ll need to be able defend yourselves.” He didn’t sound anxious, and yet it came to Sera that he was.

Without a word, she stood and opened the drawer in the table. It was full of lethally sharpened sticks. She’d made them during the day while reading Melanie’s books.

Blair nodded and jerked his head in Tam’s direction. “Make sure he knows.” He walked toward the living room door.

“Wait,” Sera exclaimed, jumping up. “Are you really going to be able to fight all of them? Just four of you?”

He didn’t even turn. “There are more than four. I told you. I summoned all I could.”

She followed him into the hall, catching his arm. He turned, and at once, she released him.

With his cool, unreadable eyes holding her gaze, she spoke with difficulty. “Some of you could die, couldn’t you?” His lip quirked, and she added almost angrily, “Don’t tell me you’re all dead already. You know exactly what I mean.”

“More of them will die.”

She stepped back, feeling her shoulders slump. “Why does that not make me feel better?”

His eyes searched hers, one to the other. But he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached up and touched her lips. His fingertip felt smooth again, healed from its burns, like his face. And as always, his cool touch heated her skin, catching at her breath. Understanding, he smiled lazily. He dropped his hand before she could pull away and walked toward the front door.

Sera swallowed. She wanted to call him back. Terrified she’d never see him again; terrified she would and be unable to live with what he’d done and seen. It was all muddled with her own fear of messing up tonight, of failing Melanie and endangering everyone. With a sudden yearning that shook her, she longed for one more time with Blair, not just to shut out the unbearable inadequacy, but because it was him. And she couldn’t even find the words. All she could do was stare miserably at his back. Until, without warning, he swung back to her.

She didn’t see him move, but suddenly she was crushed in his arms, and his mouth seized hers. His kiss was hard, almost brutal, making her gasp into his mouth. But she wasn’t afraid, even when his fangs cut into her lip. Everything in her rose to meet his onslaught. She fought back with her teeth as well as her tongue and lips. She sucked on his tongue and his wicked canines, rubbing her breasts against his chest in an instinctive effort to get closer to him. When he ground his erection into her hip, she writhed for a better position, glorying in her own outburst of lust as much as in his. Tangling his hands in her hair to hold her head steady, he deepened the kiss impossibly until she moaned aloud in utter need.

“Channel that,” he said fiercely in her head. “Sexual energy is very powerful.”

His lips released hers, then came back for one more brush and lingered, sensually teasing. “You’re strong, Serafina. You’ll do this. And I’m not f*cking history.”

With that, he strode away from her, leaving her wobbling unsteadily in the hall. The door closed sharply, although she didn’t see him pull it.

Jilly’s head appeared at the kitchen door. “All right?”

Sera tried to pull herself together, to work out what the hell had just happened. “What did he mean by that?” she wondered.

“By what?” Jilly asked suspiciously.

“He said he wasn’t history. Of course, he bloody is. He’s walking history!”

“Ah,” Jilly said. She chewed her lower lip and released it. “That might have been me. After you discovered Smith was your dad and got upset, I told him he was history.” Jilly’s eyes narrowed. “He is, isn’t he?”

Sera gazed at her friend. A smile seemed to begin deep inside her. “None of us are history,” she said firmly. “We’re going to save the world.”

****

Blair leaned his shoulder against the broad trunk of a tree and waited. Since he was no longer masking his presence, Smith and his vampires would all know exactly where he was. He’d chosen the time of the rendezvous deliberately early in the evening, both to help Sera and Melanie avoid the late-night tiredness common to humans and to allay the suspicions of his enemies, who would be less likely to expect a fight when so many people were still abroad.

The gray clouds that had been threatening rain all day had vanished to leave a clear night sky sparkling with stars. Pity. Rain would have repelled humans.

He’d chosen his tree well from the glimpse he’d taken of the view from Jilly’s window. From here, he could see the sharp, distinctive shape of Arthur’s Seat silhouetted against the sky, could make out the ancient, ruined chapel toward the bottom of the hill. He could even hear the ripples in the distant loch as ducks shook their tail feathers in sleep.

When he closed his eyes, he could feel her gaze on him. Serafina. Her eyes would look as they had when he’d held her in his arms an hour ago, shining with longing and lust and self-belief. His loins began to ache and harden.

History my arse. I will have her…

…Right after this.

His senses dragged him out of Serafina fantasies and back to reality. Nicholas Smith was striding toward him from the direction of the main path. Not far behind him came Ella and Arthur, as if he considered them an appropriate escort for an important man unafraid for his life. But the park was crawling with vampires. Blair could feel them from all sides, combing for enemy vampires as they converged on the meeting place. They wouldn’t find any. Arthur was with Smith, and the others were too weak to have much more than human senses.

But there were lots of them. Enough to bury him.

As Smith and his escort approached, Blair straightened and strolled out of the tree’s shadow.

“Nicholas,” he said fondly.

Smith halted. Although he smiled, his eyes were understandably wary, and he didn’t offer his hand. After all, they were both well aware that Smith had tried to burn him to death. And, in fact, Smith still believed Phil had died in the fire, though he’d no idea if that would inspire Blair with a sense of vengeance.

Smith spoke with his mind, slowly, haltingly, as if he had difficulty keeping background thoughts at bay. He didn’t share Sera’s instinctive talent for telepathic speech. “Blair. Thank you for meeting me.”

“Thank you for bringing your friends.”

Smith’s brow gave a betraying twitch.

Blair smiled and waved one lazy hand toward Arthur and Ella. “Charmed to meet you both again. So let’s talk business. What are you offering me to join your merry band of banker pirates? Aside from a share in the new wealth.”

Smith smiled back. “But I don’t really need to offer you anything else, do I? In the circumstances, isn’t your continued existence enough?”

He didn’t mean it. He was keeping the conversation going, to give the bulk of his vampires time to get here and kill Blair for him. Blair was happy to play along, since he needed them here.

“Nicholas,” he reproved. “You don’t really want me in the same condition as my friend, do you? I thought you were just trying to get my attention.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Blair agreed. “So pay the price of my attention. I want the command of your vampires. And let’s face it, if I don’t get it, I may not be able to kill you, but I can certainly kill enough of them to make your banking career—difficult.”

The numbers were building. Vampires were emerging through the trees, advancing from the path and the gate, closing in on them.

“Let’s not quarrel over it, Blair,” said Smith smoothly. “We both know I outnumber you by—oh, about a hundred to one.”

He was right. The twenty or so vampires who’d been present at their last encounter had multiplied considerably, so much so that Blair suspected some had been created solely to fight him rather than to enhance the banking plan.

“About a hundred to four,” Blair corrected and issued the telepathic summons that brought Ailis, Sebastian, and Phil leaping downward from the tree branches to the left to land flanking Blair and facing Smith.

Smith did a satisfyingly ludicrous double take as his nervous gaze flitted across Phil, who accorded him a toast with his inevitable bottle. “You made me burn in hell,” Phil told him. “I wish you the same joy.”

Smith said, “You can’t touch me. None of you can. Ask Blair.”

Phil took a swig from his bottle. “You don’t need to be dead to be in hell.” He passed the bottle under Blair’s nose. Without touching it, Blair breathed on it and worked his party-trick magic. The whisky burst into flames, and Phil hurled it into the midst of the gathering crowd of vampires.

Now’s your moment, Serafina. Begin.