Seeker (34 page)

Before he had a chance to react, Frederick was on the floor, one hand supporting his weight, the other cradling the gaping wound in his gut. Willem had acted so fast, lashing out with the talons, ripping through Frederick's jumper, shirt and skin. Frederick took a deep breath and winced in pain. He looked up. Willem was standing there, looking at the blood on his talons in horror. Without a second's pause, Willem spun on his bare feet and ran.

For a moment Frederick remained as he was, trying to gather his strength. He was thankful for the blood he had procured from Anthony earlier that day, without it he would have been too weak to give pursuit. He stood up and licked his free hand. As he staggered out of the house he wiped his saliva over the wound, and set off in the direction Willem had fled. Tracking Willem, now the barrier between them was gone, would be child's play.

* * *

So intent on following Willem was he that he failed to notice the redheaded woman lying on the kitchen floor. She remained that way, unconscious, for several seconds after Frederick had gone, but then her body shook abruptly. And her green eyes snapped open.

PART FOUR

16.

What Amy had said still troubled Jake. Was he doing the right thing in coming to Southend to find Will, leaving Curtis in a situation that was rapidly turning into something nasty? He had promised Will that he'd keep an eye on Curtis, but then that promise was made when they both thought Will would return after two nights. It had now been almost a week since he left. Jake tried to console himself with the thought that he and Will would come back to London together, and then they could take care of the fall of Jimmy.

It was almost eight by the time his train pulled in at Leigh-on-Sea Station, and he emerged onto a platform that was alien to him. He looked around for the exit, espied the stairs, and set off, hefting his knapsack over his shoulder. He had his ticket ready, but found the gates already open, so he just passed through them and stepped outside the small ticket office into the cold and darkening night air. He stood there for a moment, feeling a little bit light headed from the sea air. Having spent most of his life in the heart of a city he was not used to such a ready supply of fresh air.

Directly in front of him, across the road from the station was a grassy hill, steps leading to the top, passing through a dense clump of trees and foliage. Way more steps than Jake wished to manage. He wasn't unfit, working on a building site saw to that, but they were an awful
lot
of steps. A much more manageable road wound its way around the hill to the right. The area seemed to be mostly deserted, but for a few vehicles driving up and down the road, and someone slowly working their way down the long flight of steps.

Charlie had told him to wait by the taxi rank outside the station, so Jake crossed to the small island where two young men were waiting for a cab, both leaning against the railings, their hands linked together. They were only teenagers, and clearly had no issue with displaying their affection for each other in public. Jake frowned, wondering why it was that young people had no problems, and yet he, supposedly an older and wiser man, was still fighting it. He turned away from the teens and looked out at the estuary beyond the station.

“Sweet, ain't it?”

The voice he knew. He looked at Charlie, who had approached him from behind. “Will would probably think so,” Jake offered.

Charlie nodded briefly at the teens. “Alright, lads?” They smiled at him. “Cute couple,” he said, turning back to Jake. Not sure what to say, Jake reached out a hand. Charlie took it, and hugged Jake. “Nice to meet you in the flesh, as it were,” he said.

Jake pulled away, noticing the smile from the lads at the two men hugging.
Great
, Jake thought,
they think I'm one of them now
.

“Can I get your bag?”

“It's cool, I'm good,” Jake said, repositioning his knapsack onto his other shoulder, thinking that Charlie didn't look like he could lift a feather, let alone his densely packed knapsack. For some reason Jake had been expecting Charlie to be shorter than he, like most people he knew, but Charlie matched him for height, give or take an inch. But bulk-wise, Jake had him beat. Charlie was what people in fashion would probably call model slim, but Jake just saw it as skinny. Although Jake had to confess, the man did have a great smile.

“Okeydoke, then.” Charlie set off towards the road that wound its way up Belton Hills. Jake followed. “I was thinking we could first grab a bite to eat from up at the Grove, before we dump your stuff at my place. Gonna be a long night, so a full stomach might be a good idea.”

Jake nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, glad Charlie had chosen the road and not the steps.

* * *

Willem was definitely out there, that much Erwyn
had
been told. Beyond that he knew nothing of Celeste's and Frederick's meeting out at Canvey Heights. He didn't need to know anything else. It was enough to know that Willem was still in Southend somewhere, and Erwyn knew he could rely on Frederick to ensure he stayed there for a long while yet. Long enough, certainly, for Erwyn to do what he needed to do.

For centuries he had played it carefully, keeping his arrogance and cantankerous nature on full display, hiding the truth behind such a rough exterior. Ever since he had returned to Theodor's side in 1739, no one had come close to guessing what he had committed himself to in Rome a couple of years before. He had still been young, and those close to Theodor accepted Erwyn's ways for Theodor's sake, none had questioned why he had needed to travel. Since then he had been careful, watching things, learning things, patiently waiting for the time Julius and he knew was coming. He had believed every word Julius had said, every word written in the Sekhmet Codex, but now…

Now he knew what he had to do. For the first time doubts clouded his mind, and he was at a crisis of belief. Despite all he had learned, the facts surrounding Willem's Rebirth needed further investigation. And to do that, Erwyn needed the Book of Sekhmet itself. He knew enough of what it said, but this only through what Frederick had shared with him. He needed to see it, to
read
it, himself.

To that end he waited, for hours he waited until Frederick finally left the factory. He followed Frederick, careful as ever to not be seen. All the way off Canvey, a few carriages away on the train from Benfleet. When Frederick alighted at Chalkwell, Erwyn feared the worst. That he would return home. But instead, Erwyn watched from the opposite side of the road as Frederick approached a house facing the seafront. There was some kind of altercation at the front door, a redheaded woman who didn't seem too happy to see Frederick. Erwyn didn't care, once Frederick was inside the house he carried on his way. Turning at the next corner, he walked up Ridgeway Gardens and onto Hill Way until he stood outside the house that contained Frederick's own little flat.

Frederick lived on the top floor, a converted loft. Erwyn scanned the street, some homes were occupied, but he didn't mind. He was used to stealth. All that mattered was the rest of the house before him was unoccupied, no cars in the driveway and no lights on in any rooms.

He approached the door, and put one hand to the Yale lock as if he were holding a key. With the least bit of pressure, he busted the lock clean off the door and stepped inside. So as not to arouse any suspicion, he punched on the hall light before heading up the stairs.

Frederick always remained coy about the location of the Book, but Erwyn knew him enough that he was sure the Book would be hidden in some secret place in Frederick's flat. A place of residence kept secret from the upyr world at large. Anyone foolish enough to try and procure the Book would aim for the factory.

Luckily Erwyn was no fool. It might take him some time, but he would find the Book. And then he would see.

* * *

Jake had never really been a fan of panini, but he had to admit that the Grove, a small cafe that was situated at the top of Belton Way, served excellent panini. He had a panino terracina, filled with prosciutto, arugula rocket and bocconcini, alongside a glass of milk. As Charlie had said, they had a long night ahead and proper nutrients would be needed.

Once they had outlined their initial plan, which meant a bus ride to the heart of Southend, and finished eating, they had made their way to Charlie's house up the way from the Grove on Herschell Road. The road itself was almost directly opposite the steps that led down towards Leigh station, offering a good view of the Thames Estuary, with the edge of Canvey Island being just visible to the west of Leigh. It was a big house, much like the rest that lined the road, which seemed a bit much for one person to Jake. Charlie explained that the house actually belonged to his great aunt, but she was very ill and now lived in a care home, and had asked that Charlie move in and take care of the old house. It had been in his family for eighty years and Great Aunt Mable couldn't bear the thought of selling it or renting it out to some stranger. This worked out quite well for Charlie, since it was close to Old Leigh, a place he often liked to visit to chill out with the fishermen, surrounded by the smells of salty water and freshly caught fish. Jake turned his nose up at this, and Charlie had laughed. His dad had been a fisherman in Old Leigh, and so Charlie had been brought up with the smell.

Jake stopped when he entered the lounge, located at the front of the house, and looked at the glass-framed picture that took pride and place above the antique fireplace. It was a play on the old Obsession from Calvin Klein ad from ten years ago; a Travis Fimmel look-a-like glancing down, his fingers lifting the band of his boxers, with the legend above his head now reading “OBSESSION FOR MEN.” Jake smirked.

Charlie noticed Jake's smile. “Yeah, gotta love it, right? Never met a man that it didn't apply to.”

“Some men more than others,” Jake said glibly, thinking of Mike, and wandered further into the room. It was a strange place, a mix of old and modern, as if Charlie was fighting a never-ending battle to put his own stamp on a house that had lived many lives that it did not wish to give up.

Much of the furniture was old but well kept, no doubt owing more to Great Aunt Mable than Charlie, with occasional pieces of ornamentation scattered around the room. A shelving unit in one corner of the room housed DVDs, with the top shelf reserved for a collection of toys. Jake walked over and smiled at the memories the old toys brought back.
Transformers
,
He-Man
, and couple of very rare actions figures of Admiral Kirk and Spock from
Star Trek: The Motion Picture
. It was funny; on several outings with Curtis he had taken the kid to many toyshops that were full of modern versions of the toys set out carefully before him. In some ways the contemporary toys were better sculpted, much more detail and scale, but there was a lot to be said for the clunkiness of the older toys.

A row of DVDs on the next shelf down caught his eye. Suppressing an unexpected shudder, Jake noticed that Charlie had the full series of both the British and American versions of
Queer as Folk
, not to mention several discs of
Will & Grace
. Next to them was something called
Dante's Cove
, which Jake did not recognise, but judging by the almost naked man in the thumbnail picture on the spine of the DVD he could work out what it was about. Jake was reminded of Will's DVD collection, and he was sure it didn't contain half as many gay DVDs as Charlie owned.

Jake hated the feeling, but he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Being around Will was one thing; they had known each other since they were kids, but with Charlie it was different. He felt awful for feeling like he did, but he couldn't help it.

He looked over at the small clock sitting on the mantle above the fire. It was almost a quarter to nine, which meant it was nearing time to hit the nightclubs. His eyes came to rest on a set of tickets beside the clock, and for a moment forgetting how nosey he was being, he walked over and looked closer. They were for a show at Cliff's Pavilion. He looked up and saw a sadness in Charlie's eyes that made him want to offer some kind of comfort. Jake looked back at the tickets and noticed the date.

He offered Charlie a smile. “Hey, when we find him you guys can probably take in another show, yeah?”

Charlie smiled back, but Jake was not sold on the sincerity of it. “That'd be nice.”

The smile got broader as Charlie considered the idea, and Jake felt a brief stab of jealousy. That Charlie cared deeply for Willem was obvious, and he still held on to the hope that soon they'd get the chance to be together. The jealousy was washed away by guilt; Jake knowing for sure that he'd be the one obstacle that Charlie would not be able to climb. Once found it was clear in Jake's mind who Will would choose.

Jake shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Hey, can I borrow your toilet? Not had a pee since I left London. Not keen on those train toilets.”

“Can't blame you on that score,” Charlie said, and led Jake out of the lounge. “You could use the loo in the back yard, but it's cold out there and can't see how that'd help your case.”

Jake consciously glanced down, wandering if perhaps his jeans were too tight. He glanced back at the picture over the mantle.
Obsession ain't the word
, he thought.

* * *

As he mounted the staircase, Charlie was still talking. “I'll show you where you're crashing, too.”

Jake followed. He had visions of Charlie leading him to his bedroom, explaining how the big house got cold so they'd have to snuggle up, but instead Charlie took him to what was obviously a little used spare room. Everything was so clean and in its right place.

“There ya go, make yourself comfortable. Place has been prepared for a while now, ever since I knew that…” Charlie shrugged. “Well, you now.”

Jake watched him for a moment, but didn't say anything, not really trusting himself. Clearly he had misjudged Charlie on an epic scale. He was suddenly reminded of something he'd said to Francis and Sandra, about how Charlie was the innocent one in all this. Not just innocent, Jake reflected, but a true gentleman, too. Jake offered a smile, and Charlie returned it.

“The loo's just across the landing,” Charlie said, pointing. “Once you're done, I'll be downstairs putting together a flask of chicken soup.”

“Thanks, guy,” Jake said, and waited until Charlie was on the stairs before he flung his knapsack on the bed and rushed into the bathroom. He pushed the bolt across and turned to the toilet, already unbuttoning his jeans. He barely managed to get his tackle out when his phone went off. Shaking his head at the ill-timed call, he pulled out his phone with his free hand. It was Will's parents on the other end. He let his trousers and boxers drop to his ankles and sat on the toilet, hoping that the sound of him taking a pee would not be so obvious now, and pressed the green button.

“Hey.”

* * *

Marseille, 2006. It seemed so long ago. She had taken a walk through the factory, on her way to speak with Theodor and Erwyn, when she found herself stopping in front of the painting that showed her and Frederick outside her home in France;
Château de Maupassant
looking out towards
Notre-Dame de la Garde
. She had been old back then, her body nearing the end, and even though the artist had captured her hidden strength, Celeste saw the truth. Another body used up, and the end of another member of the Maupassant “family.” She had been fortunate to find Jasmine, a black beauty of thirty-four years, drifting through life, travelling the world, with little or no contact with her family. A perfect choice to bring into the “family.”