Walking Shadows (18 page)

I had been spouting random facts from my research in response to my irritation at Mundy and
Magdalene. The more this pair wound me up, the more stubborn I got. However, indignation, irritation
and sheer cussedness are great galvanisers of the brain. All that data in my head buzzing about, and
it would all make sense if I could just put it together. Hunting for centuries, Mundy had said. The
same name kept popping up. I only knew one kind of creature with the longevity required. What it
meant didn't make sense, but it was also the inevitable conclusion.

"One of your hunters is a vampire," I said, and it was a shame I sounded more startled
than confident in the pronouncement. "Abraham - Abe."

This explained a lot about the crazy-eyed kid I'd seen at the bottom of the stairs on Friday
night. Of course, it also raised a gazillion other questions, all of them unanswerable for the time
being.

Magdalene and Mundy made scoffing noises while Gary's slow cogs turned over the facts. "It
fits," he said.

"It is a nonsense," said Mundy, furiously.

"No it isn't," Gary insisted. "It's only improbable." He regarded Mundy
mildly. "And you know it's true. I mean, he tore your hand off."

The furtive, fearful look that swept briefly across Mundy's face was as good as a confession.

"You knew and you didn't tell us? Why?" And the answer was right there, in the way he
wouldn't meet anyone's eye. "You were
embarrassed
," I accused, astonished yet
certain.

Mundy scowled. "The attack was as Thomas described," he said. "He came into my
house. He assaulted me."

"Did he inject you, with a needle, like he did with Thomas?"

"The tiniest sensation pierced my skin." He gritted his teeth so hard I could see the
muscles working in his jaw. "He seized my wrist. I felt my strength ebbing and so I twisted
free. I ran." He jerked his chin up angrily, daring me to call him a coward.

"They must have found you from the letter you sent to Elizabeth, and then searched your
place afterwards," I mused. "And found the diary."

There had to be a 'they'. Two vampires? Or a vampire and a human? The latter, most likely. A
human brain was probably necessary for navigating around modern life, especially if the vampire was
really several hundred years old.

Maybe these guys should have worked it out decades ago themselves, but those intuitive leaps were
too far beyond them now. They probably hadn't even bothered to research, as long as they could stay
out of harm's way. Perhaps that's why so many of them had come to Australia: running away from the
bogeymen.

"How many names do they have from your address book, then?"

Mundy became more surly, and Gary was the one who answered. "Maybe around 35 or 40 in
Melbourne. In Victoria maybe 50 all-up." He considered. "Well 49, now. Alberto," he
clarified.

Ah
. "And when they're done here?"

"There are about 70 in Sydney. It's more scattered after that. A bit over 200 altogether, I
suppose."

"In the whole of Australia?"

"We're not exactly infesting the place."

I'd never really twigged before that, as introduced species went, vampires were less plentiful
and arguably less harmful in Australia than, say, rabbits and cane toads. Though maybe feral cats
were a more appropriate analogy.

Or, thinking it through, maybe this was the wrong analogy completely. Far from being an
overpopulation of hideously destructive pests - and given this new threat had already killed at
least one of them - vampires in this country were more along the lines of an endangered species. How
endangered might depend on how effective Abe and his partner were at killing.

"Should we - I don't know. Warn them all?" Once more I had that weird internal
emotional twist that murder was definitely wrong, even murder of the already-dead.

Mundy flicked his hand in a terse, dismissive wave. "It will not go so far."

"And there's the fact you can't remember most of the addresses and they've got your
book," said Gary, matter-of-factly, making it hard to tell if he was having a dig at Mundy or
not.

Magdalene evidently thought so. She shot him a speculative look. "I have my own ways of
getting in touch," she said. "It's under control."

"Yeah right," I couldn't help adding, "because, you know," I gestured at the
ruination surrounding us, "it looks like that."

Soot showered over and around us, emphasising my point. Then I heard a footfall on the stairs. I
turned to see the tall, raw-boned figure of Mr Smith. He nodded to Magdalene.

"All sorted," he told her. "We got a couple of safe houses we can use for a bit.
The guys are on standby to visit your people soon as we got the locations."

Magdalene's glare at me was full of 'I told you so'.

"And I checked on that fire you told me about. You were right. We got rid of the body."
Smith smirked cruelly. "What was left of it, any rate."

Gary frowned unhappily. "What fire?"

"You haven't heard?" A little hint of mockery slipped through in Magdalene's voice.

"I've been kind of busy."

"The old station house above Windsor train station," she supplied, "burnt down
overnight. The morning news reported it."

Gary's perturbation deepened.

"Who was it?" I asked.

"Reid. I don't think you met him," Gary said.

"Weedy blond dude with the scar?" I had seen him in passing at the Club, when Magdalene
had thrown him out for getting pushy with a newbie. He hadn't looked like someone I wanted to know
better. Looked like I was getting my wish.

"Yeah."

Another one down, and only a few days after Thomas. This was not good. I glanced at Gary, who was
just one more name on a list to this pair of hit men.

"So. You all go hide in a safe house. Then what?"

"Then we go hunting," said Smith, with a wide, wolfish grin.

The idea did not make me feel better.

"You need to go now, girl," Magdalene said abruptly. Gary and I exchanged a glance.
"Not him," she said. "He needs some details."

A protest formed and withered, unspoken, on my lips at the sight of Mundy's bared teeth. The sick
lurch in my gut cut off any other communication. Mundy really, really hated me.

"You go," Gary said quietly, "I'll see you later."

It took a lot of effort to turn my back on them, walk to the stairs, and climb up carefully to
the early evening daylight above. My skin crawled, like it was trying to get up the stairs ahead of
me.

As the fresh air hit my lungs, and the heat and light burned away the dread, I knew two things
for certain. I did not want Gary's wellbeing left in the hands of that pack of sadistic parasites;
and I was going to have to ask Kate for a gargantuan favour.

The asking of massive favours requires groundwork. When I got home I started by
putting all my crap away - stationery, shoes, half-read books and magazines, correspondence, uni
pamphlets and printouts. I did the dishes I hadn't bothered with all weekend. I made dinner - a
Moroccan tagine full of spices, black olives and saffron.

I cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen. Swept. Vacuumed. I even dusted; and even the TV screen.
If I'd had time I would've
bought flowers for the living room and Kate's bedroom.
Though perhaps it was as well I didn't have time; that might have been laying it on with a trowel.
However, I did arrange all the things I'd bought for her in a pretty parcel inside a bright red gift
bag.

With the tagine baking and everything else shiny and in its place, I took some time out to play
with all my pretty technology. Oh the joys of full time employment! I tucked myself onto the sofa
with my laptop, logged into our wireless account and burrowed into the pixel universe for book
reviews and music downloads. I bought an album I had heard at Gary's place. The band was in his
collection via a relevant music video, but I liked even the non-fanged songs. I was debating whether
I needed more show tunes when Kate arrived.

Oscar hurtled into the room just ahead of her, making excited whiffling noises as he flung his
little tan body into my lap. I had to deposit my laptop swiftly on the coffee table to make room for
his wriggling welcome. His short, curly hair - evidence of his half Maltese, half Shihtzu heritage -
was springy and soft and smelled faintly of grass and shampoo.

Close behind, Kate literally waltzed into the living room. She twirled, dropped her bag, whirled
again, all the while humming 'I Could Have Danced All Night'. I'd never seen her so happy.

"The weekend was a success?"

"It was
wonderful
," she ruffled Oscar's head, joggling his ears affectionately,
"Despite this one finding a puddle of mud this morning and practically marinating in it. Little
wretch. We had to give him a bath before we left the farm."

Oscar, unrepentant, whiffled excitedly and tried to lick her face, then gave up and resumed
licking mine. Kate danced away from him, so he leapt onto the floor to do little pirouettes around
her. "Anthony's parents are delightful," she went on, "I was horribly nervous but
they were lovely. His mum is so funny! And Oscar loved the vineyard, didn't you boy?" Oscar
wagged his whole body in agreement.

She grinned cheekily at me. "And if you're the one who tried to call me on Saturday
afternoon, I'm not sorry I didn't answer the phone. We were much too busy having fun, so I turned it
off." She giggled. "And I left it off."

"Wicked girl," I chided with a laugh. Kate is the most responsible person I know.
Hyper-responsible, really. It isn't good for her. She never turns her phone off, and it was funny
looking at her acting like she was so naughty to have done it.

"I know!" Her feet started capering again. "Actually, I tried to turn it on again
but Anthony hid the phone from me, so I gave up."

"Surely you had better things to do."

"
Much
better," she agreed with a husky tone that made me laugh again. I approved
of Anthony and would continue to do so for as long he made her sparkle like this.

"How was your weekend?" Kate asked, coming back to the couch.

"Not yet. Tell me all about yours." I rearranged limbs and technology to make room for
her and she bounced into position. I intended to avoid all but the most severely edited version of
my own weekend. I wasn't ready to talk about Ballarat yet. If ever. Some things Kate did not need to
know. I might admit to Evan, though. I grinned at that sunshiny thought. "I want to know all
about you and Anthony!"

Kate blushed. It made her beautiful.

"Lissa, he's wonderful. I'm in love."

"Good for you." We embraced, clinging to each other for joy instead of comfort, for a
change.

"He said he loves me too." Her elated laugh caught in her throat.

"So he should, if he's got any sense," I said.

She dashed at the tears in her eyes. "How stupid am I? Crying when I'm so happy."

"Maybe joy needs a way out," I said, taking a wisp of her hair and tucking it behind
her ear, "If you keep dancing I bet you stop crying."

She threw herself off the sofa and did another pirouette. Oscar started dancing with her again,
springing up and down at her heels. I watched the pair of them, basking in the moment. These are the
times we live for.

"Your turn. How did you cope this weekend without your big sister to look after
you?"

I snorted good naturedly at the very idea that she in any way looked after me, though she did, in
all the best and most important ways.

"I went to Ballarat on Saturday, a little day trip." That was all I was prepared to say
on that subject at the moment, "And yesterday I went to the St Kilda markets." I found I
wasn't quite ready to talk about Evan. "Actually, I've got something for you!"

I dashed to my room to pick up the scarlet gift bag. From it, Kate withdrew a pair of delicate,
luminescently purple earrings and a matching bracelet along with the bag of lilac-scented cedar
roses from Sovereign Hill.

Kate held one of the roses in her fingertips and closed her eyes to inhale the aroma. Her smile
was almost enough to exorcise the curse of Alberto's ending from the memory of where I'd bought
them.

"They remind me of Nanna," she said. She placed one of them on our memory table.

She paused, then spoke with the way-too-innocuous tone that meant she was trying to subtly
introduce an unpleasant topic. Kate had never mastered the art of being nonchalant about discussing
things like, for example, our parents. "I don't suppose you got a call from Dad this
weekend?"

I'd darn near forgotten. Now I was reminded I couldn't bring myself to be angry with her for
giving him my number. "As it happens, yeah. He said he was in town this week. Talked about
doing dinner."

A pensive pause followed.

"Actually, he's in town tonight," said Kate. "He called while I was heading home.
We thought maybe we could meet about seven for a drink. Coffee or chai or something. Is that all
right?"

"I don't know", I said, which was true. I was not ready for this. I hadn't got myself
steeled for 'later' let alone 'right away'.

"I need to ask a favour, Kate," I blurted out suddenly, as though my brain was trying
to divert me from the thought of seeing my Dad again. "It's about Gary."

Kate's expression became wary. She tolerated Gary, at best.

"There are things going on for him right now," I continued, excising large chunks of
backstory as I went, "and he might need a place to stay for a few nights."

"Doesn't he have his own place?" she said stiffly.

"He does, but he might have to move out for a little while. I thought he could doss here for
the duration."

Silence again. Less pensive, more mulish.

"It's not like he'll eat us out of house and home." Perhaps not the best sales pitch.
"Or put down roots and snore all day on the couch. He'll probably just read and watch TV. You'd
hardly even notice him."