Seeker (29 page)

He was wandering Benfleet, having dumped his bodyguards, making a private call on his mobile. It was taking a while for the call to connect, but then he was calling Rome and there were various switchboards and cross-network connections to make to ensure that the call could not be traced. He had spent many long years guarding his back, and did not intend to slip up now. If this call proved successful then he knew he'd have the perfect method for widening the growing chasm between Celeste and Frederick.

“Erwyn!” He was almost caught off guard by the effusive response, as sudden as it was. “It has been too long. I hear you've been making waves about our followers.”

Erwyn smiled at the western colloquialisms amidst the Italian accent. Like all long-lived upyr Julius's accent only contained a trace of his native tongue, having assimilated various regional accents and phrases from his many visits to other countries, yet somehow after 427 years of life, still Julius was able to maintain the infamous enthusiasm expected of those of Italian descent. Not that his pride in his history had prevented Julius from exploring the world. That was the thing with being alive for so long, as much as you loved your home country you just had to get out there and see the world.

He wasn't at all surprised to find out that Julius was aware of his earlier investigation. Still…“News travels fast to Rome these days.”

“Well, of course it does, we are in the twenty-first century, no? The Brotherhood must keep up with the latest technologies or we become as decadent as the Three.” Julius laughed, but Erwyn did not join him. Even now, after all these years, Julius underestimated the reach of the Three, despite repeated attempts by Erwyn to tell him otherwise. “We are very well connected.”

Erwyn knew this. He had been one of them since the beginning. “Good, I'm always glad to hear that, like. That's exactly why I'm calling.”

“Yes, I didn't think it was a social call. You know, Erwyn, we really ought to meet up soon, like we did in the old days. Sociality seems to be lacking a great deal in my life.” Julius sighed. “The price I pay, I suppose, for my position.”

“Can't fault it. And it's not going to ease up any time soon, is it? We're nearer the time for the Brotherhood to claim its rightful place again.”

“That we are, my boy, that we are. So, what can I do for you?”

“I need you to find the hunter Maia Chenoweth.”

“Ah, Frederick's daughter. Are we planning on getting rid of her at last?”

“Not this time, although that is what Celeste wishes. No, I want her prepared to remove Celeste, like. Things are not looking good here for our erstwhile leader.” Erwyn could almost hear Julius smile, and went on to briefly outline the complications rising in Essex, in particular detailing the slow parting of the ways between Frederick and Celeste. When he finished he added: “We need to make sure that the chasm is one neither can jump again.”

Julius was silent for a moment. “I think I know the upyr we need, he's quite an expert at tracking down hunters. Although his own mental state is a little…erm, uncertain.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Good. Then I shall get hold of Edward Lomax and see if we can snare us a hunter. I'll be in touch.”

The line went dead before Erwyn could question Julius's choice. He knew the name Edward Lomax and was well aware of the nefarious methods he used. Erwyn smiled. Yes, by the time Maia was ready she would truly be scarred, and thus the perfect wedge to place between Celeste and Frederick.

* * *

He had felt Celeste's call from the moment Will had vanished, but he had been in no state to respond, and so had not. Mental discipline wasn't his strong suit, but he knew enough to keep Celeste out. Often he could feel her probing the periphery of his thoughts, but she rarely intruded. Her concern for him was making her clumsy, and keeping her out was proving easier than usual.

Frederick hated going against Celeste, but he could not allow her to get even a hint of what happened to Willem, not until he had found Willem and got him ready.

Frederick was worried about Willem, out there in a strange world that was not designed for him. He'd be out there, confused and scared by what he'd become, with no knowledge or understanding. A lost child in a world of strangers. Frederick had to find him, keep him safe, and teach him.

He had not gone against Celeste just to lose Willem now. He
had
to find him.

Most of the night he had tried to reach out with his mind, get a sense of his fledgling, but each time proved as fruitless as the last. Several times he fell asleep, exhausted by the mental workout and still weak from being almost drained by Willem. He had woken and feasted, not on blood as was to be expected, but on food and drink. Upyr could survive quite well on normal sustenance, much as a human could, but blood was that extra pick-me-up, the little something that kept their preternatural abilities sharp. Blood would come later, first he needed to get out there and start looking for Willem.

All day he had been searching. First of all he intended to try every haunt that might attract the attention of a new upyr, and once he'd exhausted all those avenues then he'd look at the mundane places a human might seek solace. Including family and friends. He had already tried blood banks, the hospital, even got his own police contacts involved, but no one had any information for him. So now he was checking the more obscure sources of information, and was entering a pub down the backstreets of Westcliff. He looked back as a train rumbled past, heading into Southend Central train station, and was reminded of how the weekend had begun. It seemed so long ago now, but it was only four days.

A beep of a horn got his attention and he spotted a small blue Yaris drive past. The driver waved at him, a short woman with dark red hair. He didn't know her name, but he recognised her as someone he often said hello to in Chalkwell, so he waved back. She smiled and drove on, obviously keen to get home. He looked back at where the car had come from, and saw the tall silver complex that housed the South Essex College. She was clearly too old to be a student, so he guessed she must have been a teacher there.

Frederick shook his head. All these distractions were no good. He had things to do. He turned back to the pub and entered.

Such places existed all over. On the surface they looked like any other pub, full of people supping alcohol, reading newspapers, playing the gaming machines. But behind the facade was the truth, hidden away in a back room, a place so exclusive that most people wouldn't have a chance of gaining access. Frederick was not one of those people, as far as the owner of the pub knew he was also one of the Black Veil, a “real” vampire trapped in a human world.

With a nod from the landlord, a young man who was barely legal removed himself from the bar and came over to Frederick. He eyed the young man, who offered his hand with a smile, just two friends meeting for a quiet drink. Although considering the seedy look of some of the older patrons, it must have looked like he was picking up a bit of trade. Frederick smiled, tempted to take the young man in front of them all. Show the landlord what a
real
vampire was like. It wasn't like he was full up on blood.

Instead he embraced the young man in a hug and was delighted by the catching of surprised breath from the young man. Frederick released him and held him at arm's length.

“You're looking rather tasty,” Frederick said, beaming.

The young man's smile didn't falter, although the confusion in his eyes was clear, which only made Frederick smile more. “Yeah, cheers, mate. Shall we, erm, go somewhere a little more private?”

“Capital idea,” Frederick said, linking arms with the young man and allowing himself to be led away. He glanced back at the old men watching him, lustful eyes gleaming, and winked at them. One of them gave him a thumbs up. Frederick suppressed a laugh. Humans were quite twisted.

They reached a door with the words “Function Room” engraved below the blackened out window, and the young man pressed a few buttons into the entry coder. With a click the door was released and he led the way in. Frederick followed him.

It had been a while since he'd been in a Blood Bar, but he had been to many over the years, and no two were ever quite the same. But of them all this was his favourite. Unlike so many others, those of the Black Veil didn't succumb to the usual vampire trappings, and weren't taken in by the clichés of TV and film. No dark shadows, no black walls, and certainly no cobwebs or bat motifs. Instead this Blood Bar was decked out in lush splendour. A celebration of their lives as vampires. Satin and silk drapes in deep reds lined the walls, hanging in the booths, with mauve walls and a mahogany finish to the actual bar and seats.

It was only early in the evening and most of the “real” vampires were either still at work or more likely at the gym, engaged in the expected social activities, blending in with their mortal friends, and so the bar wasn't busy, with only a few patrons. A young couple sat in a booth, sipping blood laced with cinnamon, while they necked each other for more immediate pleasure. A few others were in heated debate at the bar, while a single figure sat in her own booth, reading a book while taking the occasional sip of blood from the goblet sitting on the table.

Frederick smiled and walked over to the bar. He ordered a flagon of blood for himself, O-Negative. Once the bartender had given him the flagon Frederick quaffed it all down, enjoying the thick substance running down his throat, immediately feeling his preternatural senses sharpening. For a brief second he reached out his mind, hoping the fresh blood would give him the edge needed to touch Willem's mind. Still nothing. Sighing, he walked over to the booth, and slid on to the seat opposite the solitary woman.

At first she didn't look up, although he knew she'd noticed him. Only when she had finished the paragraph she was reading did she finally grace him with a look. She offered a smile, showing him the fangs that had cost her several hundred to install. They were quite small, but big enough to notice if you knew what you were looking for. Frederick suspected she didn't smile a whole lot. Fangs on a midwife couldn't have been that much of a soothing thing for pregnant women about to give birth.

As usual when he saw her she was dressed in black and purples, wearing her top low to show off her ample cleavage. Her jet black hair, with its single line of purple running down the right side, was worn long and straight.

“Lord von Otto,” she said, by way of greeting, using Frederick's Black Veil name. “How is the Kingdom of Prussia?”

“Long gone,” Frederick replied with a smile of indulgence.

“You're looking well. Still moisturising?” There was a twinkle in her eyes. She was teasing him. He had told her many tales of his homeland, but she still wasn't sure whether to believe he was as old as he claimed. Unlike others in the Black Veil Frederick had the distinction of never having lied about his past, although almost all of those he'd told the story to were convinced he made it up. Much like their own “pasts.” Lady Reisha, to use her chosen Veil name, wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not. This made her, from Frederick's point of view, plenty more interesting than any other in the Black Veil.

“You'd be surprised what a bit of moisturiser can do.” He indicated the goblet. “Can I get you another?” She nodded with a raised eyebrow and Frederick motioned to the bartender for two more. He reached out to the still open book and flipped over the cover. “What are you reading?” He frowned. “
Seeking the Seeker
?”

“Yes, an interesting read. Talks about a vampiric prophecy of a chosen one who will lead the vampires to the Progenitor; the Vampire King who created us.”

Frederick didn't answer at first, but he took note of the author of the book. Barratt Kemp. He would have to look into it later, although he suspected it was written by a “scholar” from the Brotherhood, getting their good news out to the wider upyr world. And beyond, it would appear.

Frederick forced a laugh. “Prophecy, eh? Sounds like the scope for a good film. Even if it's a bit of a worn idea.”

Lady Reisha shrugged. “Probably right, but without you here to regale me with stories of historical vampires, I have to look elsewhere.” The drinks arrived, and she thanked the bartender. “Where have you been anyway? Not seen you in these parts for, what, a year?”

“I've been travelling. Recently returned from France.”

“Ah, visiting your sire?”

Frederick answered with a smile. “How goes your own little enterprise? Still keeping you busy?”

“Same old, supply and demand.” Her eyes still held the same twinkle, and Frederick couldn't help but smile at her audacity.

Her “little enterprise” was so wonderfully macabre that Frederick just had to put her in touch with Anthony at the blood bank once he had learned what it was. But for Anthony and Lady Reisha to do business, however, Frederick needed to check her credentials, and in his investigation he discovered that she was indeed a midwife at Southend Hospital, and further her real name was Joanne Aston. While working with expectant mothers she would supply them with extra iron supplements; the pretext being to keep them healthy and strong while they carried their child to term, since their bodies had a higher blood volume than usual, and the iron was important for the health of the foetus. Of course, they didn't need as much iron as she administered, but the extra iron helped her end product. Once they had given birth, Lady Reisha would take the afterbirth, now rich in iron, to be used for
research
. More often than not mothers in labour would agree to anything to be rid of the afterbirth, and so she rarely ever met resistance. This afterbirth she would sell on the black market to those with questionable tastes, in particular “real” vampires who found the iron-rich afterbirth something of a delicacy. Since putting her in touch with Anthony, who had access to
real
vampires, her little business had increased nicely with many upyr now benefiting from Lady Reisha's reprehensible scheme. Frederick couldn't see himself enjoying afterbirth, but he had learned not to judge his people, and tried to live by the motto of the Order of the Black Eagle; to each, his own. At the end of the day it fed the desires of blood junkies and no one got harmed in the process. Ultimately a win-win for the Three.