Seeker (27 page)

Frederick closed his eyes, hoping to be able to reach out to the shayde of the fledgling he'd made, but there was nothing. No sense of Willem at all. He didn't really think there would be; the psychic connection between maker and fledgling did not come about until after the new upyr emerged from the pontus.

Frederick had thought he was being optimistic with ten packs, but he had underestimated Willem's need. He had overseen many Rebirths and had never seen such a thirst before. Something told him the shayde was still out there.

Frederick turned to one of his people's more vulgar abilities, the one he'd pretended to use when luring the “hunter” in. He sniffed, and immediately caught the whiff of fresh blood on the breeze. Nostrils open, he set off tracking the scent down.

* * *

He finally came to a house, in which only one light was on. Looking around, making sure no one else was watching, he quickly scaled the drainpipe. When they wanted to be, the upyr could be extremely light and weigh almost nothing, but as with most of their preternatural abilities it took much concentration. He stepped on the exterior windowsill and crouched down to look through the net curtain.

At first he didn't see it. All he saw was a darkened bathroom, lit only by the light coming from the landing beyond. The bathroom was clean, with an overflowing washing basket in the corner nearest the door. It was near the basket that he first saw it; the shadow of a man stretched from the doorway, the “head” enlarged along the width of the straw basket and the soiled clothes on top. There was no one standing in the doorway to project such a shadow, it just stretched out of its own accord. Most people would have been puzzled by it, but Frederick knew he'd found Willem's shayde.

With a sense of revulsion he didn't know he could feel, Frederick realised what the shayde was doing. Atop the washing was a pair of knickers, stained by the residual menstrual blood left over by a badly applied sanitary pad, and the area of the shadow's head that would normally indicate a mouth was resting just on top of the knickers.

Frederick pulled back. He'd seen enough. Just as he turned away he noticed the head of the shadow seeming to grow, gorging itself on the menstrual fluid.

There was no way Frederick could hold Willem responsible for the actions of the shayde. It was a base creature led only by its most carnal need, no more aware than a plant soaking up the rays of the sun. He couldn't remember what had happened during his time in the pontus back in Prussia, but he hoped he hadn't done anything so disgusting. He was glad he didn't remember; some things were best left unknown. Frederick just hoped it would be the same for Willem.

* * *

“I'll find out what I can, but don't expect too much, not really my case.”

Erwyn regarded the phone in his hand, and the voice at the other end. He never much cared for Rochelle, but he couldn't deny that she had proven her worth in the service of the Three ever since she'd made Detective Inspector and transferred to Chelmsford. She knew they'd be spending a lot more time in the Essex County throughout the year, now the fulfilment of prophecy was coming, and Celeste had made her aware of how much use it would be to have someone high up working for them in the police service of Essex. They had plenty of other police contacts, but none with the immediate clout Rochelle Swanson could bring.

“Maybe not, but as I recall you're getting a bit of a reputation as a maverick, like, so no one will be surprised to find you sticking your nose in.”

For a moment Rochelle was silent, and Erwyn smiled at the sound of her deep breathing. His dislike of her was mutual. Erwyn didn't mind; he had never been one for keeping people sweet, he preferred people to be on edge, it was only then that you got to see their true hearts.

“Okay, fine, I'll get back to you with the information,” Rochelle said, resigned.

The line went dead.

Most of the day he, along with Theodor and Celeste, had been in audience, meeting with various Essex based upyr. Some were the little people, the upyr equivalent of bums, but they also got to talk with those who worked in positions of authority. Much like humanity, the upyr were everywhere; government officials, company executives, others working in shops, some even sweeping streets and emptying bins. Their greatest asset was their invisibility. The obvious signs of vampirism were long gone, no more pale and ice cold skin, no fangs and aversion to sunlight, and thankfully no more hairy feet; as such the modern vampire didn't need to hide to protect themselves. Now they lived in plain sight, looking no different than the average Joe, albeit the average Joe who looked incredibly healthy due to the preternatural blood that sustained their bodies. But meeting these upyr was tiring, and sometimes boring, work. Before the next batch Erwyn demanded a break, and it was something both Celeste and Theodor readily agreed to. Theodor went for a wander around Canvey Island while Celeste went to see Frederick who was at his Chalkwell apartment doing more fruitless research through his copy of the Book. Both went with an entourage of bodyguards, a necessary precaution given the Sekhite's awareness of the Three's current occupation of the factory.

Erwyn retired to his own private room in the factory to put his feet up and watch the local news feeds. Although he could have done with some fresh air, he loathed the idea of walking around with bodyguards, since he knew he was under no personal threat, and so chose to remain in the factory. Of all the mind numbing activities he engaged in, watching the news was his favourite. He had lived a long time and seen so much, and none of it had served to improve his temperament, but instant news reports courtesy of television was probably his most favoured invention of the twentieth century, which only improved as the twenty-first century came on them. It was a good way to see how lame the human world was, and how trivial, but at the same time it only confirmed how bored of life he was.

He had never asked to be an upyr, although over time he had adapted to the unwanted life Theodor had given him. He was certainly not suited for it, but it was those qualities that got him a place in the Three. His practiced cynicism brought a nice balance to Celeste's optimism and Theodor's quiet ruminations. It was a rare thing when a news report caught his interest, and it seemed that Sunday was going to prove to be a rare day indeed.

The anchor woman was, with a misplaced smile, talking about the death of a sixteen-year old boy in Southchurch Hall Gardens, killed in what she called a “vampire style slaying” in the early hours of the morning. She went on to talk about how an old woman, a resident of the nearby Kursaal council estate, was out walking her dog when she came across the dead boy, lying with a wooden stake in his heart.

The details of how he was found didn't bother Erwyn so much as the fact that someone was killing people in the clichéd vampire way. His hand unconsciously patted the red palm sized edition of the Sekhmet Codex that sat in his jacket pocket.

He had immediately placed the call to Rochelle. He needed all the information he could get on the killing, especially the information not released to the public. In particular the kid's name.

Once the call with Rochelle had ended he dialled a second number, one known only to him. He didn't think the Brotherhood would authorise such a killing, but he needed to check. Such unwanted attention at a time like this was bad news, and if the Brotherhood were involved…

Erwyn had no problem in going directly to Julius if necessary.

* * *

Marine Parade, running the length of the main seafront, was known for its “boy racers.” Youths in their late-teens or early-twenties, cruising along the seafront in their cheap cars, pimped up with spoilers, fins, neons, and various other accessories added on to make the cars appear cooler than they actually were. You could often hear them long before you saw them, thanks to their over-powered speakers secreted in the boots or under the rear seats, almost always pumping out some techno beat distorted by the bass. It was more sound than music. Nine o'clock on a Sunday night was a prime time for them, blocking up the traffic along the seafront, sitting in their cars like they ruled the world, when in truth they were little more than an annoyance for those who liked a quiet stroll along the beach, or those who wished for a social drink outside the many pubs. The sound of music pumping from the arcades was one thing, this was a standard sound expected in a seaside resort, but the cacophony of the boy racers was not.

This Sunday was different, however; barely a car travelled the length of the seafront, the brilliant sun of the day dragging most away to garden barbecues and other events more interesting than simply driving up and down the seafront flashing off the latest addition to their economy cars.

Naturally, though, the quiet was never destined to last and it was simply a matter of time before someone decided to take advantage of the relative silence. Two such boy racers had chosen that night to race through Southend, from Leigh to Shoeburyness, each taking a different route to see who'd reach their destination quickest. Despite the moniker, boy racers rarely actually raced, but on this occasion the title applied itself in a very literal way.

One chose to make the journey down London Road, eventually cutting down the backstreets and coming out on Pier Hill, which brought him nicely onto Marine Parade and the final stretch along the seafront to Shoeburyness. Unfortunately such was his speed, and the adrenalin coursing through his body, that he wasn't really paying attention at the mini roundabout at the bottom of Pier Hill, and singularly failed to notice his buddy, who had chosen the backstreets through Chalkwell and Westcliff, shooting up the Western Esplanade and also onto Marine Parade.

The two cars collided in a mangle of metal and noise. The crash brought people out in droves; from the pubs, the arcades, the shops, even across the road people emerged from Adventure Island to discover the source of the commotion.

Frederick was also drawn to the site of the accident, although not by the sound, but rather by the intense smell of blood. He had been up on Lucy Road, awaiting the second stage of Will's Rebirth when he got a whiff of the scent. It was so strong that it could only come from a major accident, and he knew without doubt that it would be the place at which Will would manifest. No amount of blood packs could compete with the aroma of freshly spilled blood.

By the time Frederick arrived the area of the accident had been cordoned off, access only allowed to emergency services. He had no problem with that, his eyesight wasn't so bad that he needed a ringside seat like most of the onlookers, whose own nosiness was helped by the spotlights put in place by the fire department to assist them in extracting the victims of the accident.

Frederick took to the bridge that led to the entrance of the Southend Pier, and looked down at the disaster below.

Two body bags lay on the road beside the accident, containing the two less fortunate occupants of the car that had come up the Western Esplanade. One had found himself smashing through the windshield, a result of thinking the seatbelt law did not apply to him, and the other had died when the driver's side was slammed and crushed into the bollard in the centre of the mini roundabout. The souped up orange Ford Escort still remained, one side looking like crumpled tinfoil, lifted almost off its side, half on and half off the roundabout. The passenger of the second car was a bit more fortunate, wearing his seatbelt as he did. He was now sitting in the back of an ambulance, his wounds being tended to, the paramedics ascertaining the severity of his broken arm. The car, a silver Fiat Punto, was wrapped around a lamppost at the bottom of Pier Hill, the driver still contained within, crushed against the dashboard and the door which had collapsed into his side when the Punto had spun on its axis and slammed into the lamppost. Firemen had their cutting equipment out, and were searching for the safest way to cut the young man out of the car, while paramedics sought to stabilise him during the delicate operation.

Frederick was entranced, not by the accident, but by the impossible thing he was seeing. As previously noted the upyr had an ability to see beyond the perception of humanity, and one such thing was the pontus. That it happened beyond human awareness was, to Frederick's mind, a convenience of evolution, a supernatural protection against those who would seek to destroy an upyr in such a weakened and unaware state.

He had seen many fledglings go through it and knew the three stages well enough. Seventy two hours, and three stages; stage one being the shayde, a shadowy essence of the person, driven by a subconscious need for blood, supping on the source of life which was then used to create a new protective shell and body for itself. This was stage two, an amorphous mass of skin. Pure flesh, covered in minute orifices that sucked up blood wherever it went, slowly feeding the developing body within the sack of skin. Finally stage three; protected by the bubble of flesh, the upyr within feasts on blood for several hours before it breaks free to begin its potentially immortal life.

Will should have been on stage two, but as he watched Frederick could see that was far from how it was.

The amorphous shape was, unbeknown to the humans watching, sitting astride the black body bags, draining the blood from the dead bodies within. Sitting astride was the only phrase Frederick could think of, since the body of Will was very clearly defined by the folds of flesh on the amorphous mass, which seemed to tighten more with every second that passed, clinging ever tighter to the body inside.

Frederick knew this to be stage three, which was unheard of. He didn't know what to make of it, but intended to query Celeste on this strangest of occurrences once Willem was acclimatised to his new life. Frederick was sure Celeste would be able to enlighten him, she had been around longer than almost any upyr he knew, and it seemed likely she had seen something similar. If not, then Will's Rebirth was unique and that notion bugged Frederick in a way he did not understand.