Page 32
Story: The Gloaming
“First, why are you asking?” A look of calculation crept into her face, bizarrely mature on her youthful features.
I rolled my eyes. “None of your business.”
She held up her hands in mock offence. “Alright, if that’s how you want to be.”
“Tell me what you know, and you’ve earned two favours,” I repeated her terms.
Solace stood and assessed the vampires below her, obviously weighing up whether the information was worth keeping from them. Finally, she came forward and crouched in front of me, so she was almost at my eye level, bringing the aroma of sandalwood incense with her.
“Wyatt’s in town, but you already knew that. What I can tell you is, she’s wicked mad and she’s stirring things up.” She gave me a shrewd look. “According to my guys, she’s looking for Murray – she calls him Baird Murray – but I’ve given orders not to comply or approach. I can’t have someone like her drawing too much attention in the city, and she’s not one of mine. I don’t do handouts, no matter who you are.” Her voice was quiet, all humour gone.
“She’s already drawn too much attention. I’m looking for her, aren’t I?” I kept my voice low, too, but I knew the others would hear me.
“Yes, but so far only those in the know have noticed what she’s up to. And the deaths… well, they’re not enough to worry about yet, but there’s more than the usual number of bodies to clean up – vampires and humans. Definitely more than I’d attribute toyou, anyway.” For a moment, she looked worried. “It’s gone beyond the normal territorial stuff at this point, and it has to be her. Since you might be able to put a stop to the entitled old bat, I’ll tell you what I wouldn’t tellher.”She glanced around the room, apparently checking to see who was still listening.
“He’s here. Murray. He’s damn good at hiding, I’ll give him that much, but the cards don’t lie. I can sense more energy than I’d pick up from onlyoneof the Old Ones,” her voice quickened. “The city is crackling with power. I can practically taste him in the air.”
“No one’s seen him, though?” I asked. I needed something more before my favour ran out. Solace’s ability to pick up on vampire energy was unrivalled, and I needed to know everything she did.
“No,” she said. “Like I said, he’s good at hiding. He could be anyone.”
“I’m working on a picture. That’d be a start,” I confided.
Solace shook her head. “It’s a waste of time. I’ve made it my business to know about the Old Ones, you know that – even the eyewitness accounts don’t add up.”
I nodded. I didn’t like it, but she was probably right. Solace straightened, and our bubble of confidence broke, all business again.
It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough. I knew Solace wouldn’t have mentioned Murray if she wasn’t certain, whether she said so or not. I could never truly trust a vampire, but her reputation relied on her honesty, and I could trust herreputation was everything to her. If she was backing up Wyatt’s story, that was something I could use.
“I’ll let you know when I need to call in those favours, Erin,” Solace called over her shoulder as she returned to her seat, picking up a deck of tarot cards and shuffling them deftly.
It was clear she was dismissing me, but I didn’t move. As we’d talked, I’d tried to ignore the vamps in my peripheral vision. Now that we were done, I couldn’t help but notice that the blonde and the unconscious girl had vanished. I weighed it up. One exit, not much of a lead: I figured they couldn’t have gone far. And the neutrality agreement of Solace’s place only extended as far as the exit. After that, it was happy hunting. I’d worry about what favours I might owe later.
I thanked Solace without looking at her, and left in a hurry, not waiting for her lackeys to open the door.
Outside the storm had well and truly set in. I dashed toward my car, but Cole’s ancient leather jacket didn’t come with the convenience of a hood, and my hair plastered darkly to my face. I sighed. At least my feet were dry.
Pulling open the boot of my car offered a temporary reprieve, but I didn’t have time to linger if I wanted to catch up. I unzipped the black duffel bag tucked into the far corner and pulled out my favourite weapon: a neat, narrow sword. Old-fashioned? Maybe. Conspicuous? Definitely. But oh, soverypretty.
The shining blade had a gorgeous, distinctive wavy pattern to the steel that almost glowed in the stormy grey night, with thin lines of gold tracing down its length. I’d had it made at thesame local workshop as my dagger, but in this larger form, the metal seemed to hold more magic, somehow. It wasn’t ideal for everyday use, but I had a certain fondness for its sturdy practicality. Beyond the chunk of raw citrine in the hilt and the gold inlays, there wasn’t much to it, but the thin blade was so highly polished I could see my face in it – and I kept my swordsharp.
Grasping the leather-wrapped handle and sheathing it, I strapped the scabbard over my jacket. Tom had tried to talk me into wearing it on my hip at first, but have you ever tried running with a blade banging against your leg? No thanks. On my back was safer – even if it had taken me weeks to figure out how to draw it without losing an ear. And who doesn’t look cool pulling a sword from their back?
Turning back to the rain, I closed my eyes against the downpour for a moment and attempted to centre myself. Rain hammered against the steel buildings around me, almost drowning out the noise from the busy dual carriageway beyond my sightline. I breathed deeply and let myself open up, tuning out every distraction. Intuition or instinct, it was hard to say how I could possibly know where the blonde had gone – but when I opened my eyes seconds later, I knew. Her presence pulsed in my mind like an icy blot, and I turned toward the feeling.
Across the lot, several smaller buildings were clumped together untidily in what I assumed was once some sort of admin area. I guessed the pissing-it-down rain had discouraged her from going too far, and I made my way over, keeping lowout of habit. The first three buildings were empty and dark through the cracked and broken windows, but the fourth may as well have had a flashing neon sign above the door. Swathes of heavy, dark fabric had been hung haphazardly against the remaining glass, keeping the light in and the sun out.
Vampires. Masters of subtlety since… well, never.
I allowed myself a moment when I reached the door, and leaned back against the cold, wet metal of the wall. All the time I’d been speaking to Solace I’d worked hard to suppress the familiar goosebumps that announced the presence of nearby vampires. Now, I let the sensation flood through me – I could sense at least two of them – and I wasn’t willing to let anyone go this time. The sour tang of metal flooded my mouth, and I swallowed, turning to slide open the door.
It was much darker inside, and I blinked to let my eyes adjust. The sole source of light in the warehouse was a small fire in the far-right corner that filled the air with smoke – almost but not quite hiding the smell of damp and mildew in the air. The blonde was slouched on a decrepit old sofa that hid most of the fire from view, but its light cast shadows across the corrugated walls, and I could make out enough to form a vague plan.
The young girl I’d seen before was slumped unconscious in a broken deckchair by the sofa, her chin on her chest and her breathing shallow. Her arm was outstretched, and her hand rested palm up on the arm of the sofa beside her, where the blonde’s long fingernails stroked it, almost caressing. Bite marks and long shallow cuts marred the girl’s arm, and I wondered how long the blonde had been keeping her around.
I drew my sword, and the sound of the metal on leather finally got the blonde’s attention. She dropped the girl’s hand, jumped up and spun to face me.
“You!” she spat. “You can’t be here, not with that,” she nodded toward the blade, but her gaze darted to the door. “Solace’s place is a sanctuary.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 32 (Reading here)
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