Where Loyalty Lies (8 page)

“No, no, it’s a book. Harry Potter is a book. Well, a series of books actually and they were one of the biggest selling series in the world. They were so popular they got made into films.”

Relief washed over Holt. “Oh well, I don’t really keep up with modern culture. It changes so frequently that it’s almost impossible to keep track.”

“You knew who James Bond was,” I pointed out.

“Of course I know who James Bond is.” Holt scoffed, “He drove an Aston Martin.”

I was so amused by the comment that I almost laughed, but instead I forced myself to keep a straight face.

“Harry Potter had a broomstick.”

“Sounds painful,” Holt said, shifting on the sofa as if the mere thought of sitting on broomstick made him uncomfortable.

I opened my mouth to make another Harry Potter comment when Holt’s change in position made the jacket on his lap slide to one side, revealing what was clearly the handle of a weapon poking out from the inner breast pocket. My words froze in my throat and I felt my eyes widening.

“What’s that?” I managed to say, even though it came out slightly squeakier than I’d planned.

Holt glanced down at the handle and then back up at me, as if surprised by my reaction. He slowly pulled it out and laid it on the coffee table between us. It was about a foot long and looked similar to a dagger, except the blade was round.

“It’s a stake,” Holt said calmly, watching my reaction with interest.

“Oh,” I managed, “right, a stake.”

“It’s perfectly normal for a vampire to carry weapons. Especially enforcers or ex-enforcers like me. It doesn’t matter what the occasion is, we rarely go anywhere without weapons on us.”

“Weapons?” I asked. “As in plural?”

“That’s right.”

“What else do you have on you?”

I sat in stunned silence as Holt proceeded to pull weapons out from everywhere and place them on the table. When he’d finished, I counted them. Five. Two deadly looking knives had come from underneath the back of his shirt, the original stake from his jacket, as well as another one that he’d pulled from a strap on his calf. The fifth was a strange flat looking blade that had been attached to his forearm.

“So many,” I commented. “But you only came to see me. Why would you bring all those?”

“They aren’t for you, Faine. Vampires don’t get to become my age by luck; it’s by being cautious and prepared. Say for instance that on my way here I’d run into a renegade vampire who’d recognised me from my days as an enforcer and he’d tried to attack me, better to be over-prepared than dead.”

How did he always do that? He kept dropping these bombshells but then would explain them in a way that sounded reasonable. I mean, he’d just placed a small pile of weapons onto my coffee table and then made it sound not just acceptable, but like not having knives and stakes strapped to him would be irresponsible. It was clear why he was a mediator; he was obviously gifted with words. He was always clear and to the point and something about him screamed honesty.

“Things keep getting stranger by the minute,” I said.

“I don’t think there’s any way of doing this without it being strange, I’m afraid,” Holt apologised. “If you decide to come to Rillith with me, then I think it would be safe to assume that things would get even more unusual. I’m not underestimating how much of a life-changing decision it is for you, but I do honestly believe that you’d be happy there once you’d settled in.”

I knew he was hoping for an answer, but the truth was that I just didn’t have one. I wished I had someone whose opinion I could ask. It was difficult for me to get a clear perspective on the situation. On the one hand I felt like even considering running off with a strange man who carried so many weapons was insanely stupid, but on the other hand he had been nothing but nice to me and could be offering me the chance of a life time. I did a quick evaluation in my head.

Although it should have sounded insane, I believed he was actually a vampire, and that I was half a one. It was the best explanation I’d ever been given for me being the way I was. I wasn’t sure what I believed about the first night I saw him. It seemed too coincidental that, after eighteen years of having a seemingly normal life, Holt just happened to be around on the one night that a crazy vampire turned up and tried to kill me. I was sure there was more to that particular story than Holt was telling me. Did I believe that there was a huge estate somewhere in Scotland that housed hundreds of vampires? Well, I suppose that, if I was going to believe in vampires, then I may as well believe in vampire central. Did I believe that Holt really bothered to come and find me just so that he could take me to Scotland and help me understand myself? No, that didn’t seem right.

There was more to him being here than he was letting on. I could think of a million sinister reasons for why he’d want me to leave with him, but none of them seemed to match up with the kind-faced man who was currently sitting on my couch, pretending to be interested in the one piece of artwork I had on the wall, while I thought about my decision. I knew his interest was false because the painting had cost £14.99 and was the exact same picture of the New York skyline at night that millions of people had on their walls. The way Holt was studying it, you’d have thought it was the original Mona Lisa.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “I know you said it’s because you think it must be difficult to live my life when I don’t understand why I am the way I am, but I don’t buy it. Nobody is this considerate to a complete stranger.”

Holt, as intuitive as always, seemed to sense that I wasn’t going to accept any old placating answer. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face as if he wasn’t sure where to start.

“I’ve made many mistakes in my life, Faine. You’d think that, after you’d lived for several hundred years, you’d have learnt all the lessons life has to teach you and would always know the right thing to do, but that’s far from the truth. I’ve done a lot of people wrong and I guess I feel that doing right by you goes part way towards making up for my past sins.”

“When you say you’ve done people wrong, do you mean...” I let my sentence trail off as I gave a not-so-subtle glance at his cache of weapons.

“No, I don’t mean that,” Holt said. “I have killed vampires but none that didn’t deserve it. What I meant was that I haven’t always made the right decision. There’s nothing I can do to change the past and the decisions I’ve made, but I can ease my conscience by trying to make the right choices in the future. I believe that you need help and I’m in a position to give it to you. It was the right choice for me to come and find you and to help you in any way that I can, but it’s your choice to decide if it’s the right thing for you to leave your current life to come to Rillith with me. Only you can know what the right choice is.”

With sudden clarity, I realised that Holt was right. It didn’t matter what Holt had told me, what mattered was what I was going to say. I had a decision to make. I could either accept his offer and find out for myself what was really going on, or I could tell him I wasn’t interested and carry on with my life. It was suddenly all so clear. If I went to Rillith, the whole thing could be a terrible mistake, but I hoped I’d be able to live with it, whereas if I didn’t go, I’d never forgive myself for not grasping life by the horns and seeing where it took me.

“I’m in,” I said, suddenly full of excitement over my new decision.

“You want to come to Rillith with me?” Holt asked, taken aback by my abrupt decision.

“Yes.”

Holt smiled. “I think you’re making the right choice. I have to be back at Rillith in three days, I know that’s too soon for you, but I’ll be able to come back this way in about a month. If you like, I can...”

“It’s not too soon,” I interrupted. “I can be ready in three days.”

That was the beauty of working cash-in-hand. Besides, if I had to wait a month, I’d drive myself insane questioning whether I was making the right decision.

“You’re sure?” Holt asked.

“Absolutely,” I said.

“Well then, I actually wrapped up my business yesterday, so I’ll leave it up to you when you want to leave.”

“Okay.” I wracked my brain, “Well, I guess the day after tomorrow?” That gave me plenty of time.

“The day after tomorrow it is,” Holt said. “Is eleven alright with you?”

I nodded, already feeling apprehensive.

“Right, well I’ll leave and let you get on.” Holt stood and started re-holstering his weapons. “Not a great deal of luggage will fit in my car, but if you bring two or three small cases, we can get the rest shipped up later.”

“Okay,” I said, already mentally packing my bags. I followed Holt to the front door and held it open while he put on his jacket.

“If you need anything, just let me know. One other thing about vampires is that we don’t sleep much, so don’t be worried to call any time of the day or night.”

With that, Holt left before I could start questioning him on how much sleep he actually needed.

In the couple of hours I had between Holt leaving and having to go to work, I started packing. I was suddenly grateful that I’d always chosen saving over spending as it meant I didn’t have that much to pack. I never had much time on my hands so, even though I loved reading, it took me forever to get a chance to finish a book, so I didn’t have many in my collection. I had two medium holdalls and I hoped that they’d be about the equivalent of three small ones. The sad thing was that I was pretty sure I wouldn’t need to send for the rest of my stuff. The minimal furniture I owned was tatty, second-hand and on the verge of dying anyway. I didn’t think I needed to bother taking bedding but I had plenty of money to buy anything I needed once I was in Scotland.

That evening I left early for my shift at the pub so that I could stop into the cafe and tell Lisa that I wouldn’t be returning. It had been a fairly straightforward event until, just as I was leaving, Lisa had grabbed me in a huge hug and told me to take care of myself. It had taken me completely by surprise as I’d never thought Lisa had been that fond of me.

As I made my way to the pub I mulled over my decision. If I was honest with myself, I’d known the answer all along. I was twenty-one years old and I had nothing in my current life that was worth staying for. I had two crappy jobs, a pitiful excuse for a home and no real friends. I couldn’t complain about any of that, though, because it was all my own doing. 

Mary had always encouraged me not to make friends or get too close to anyone. She’d been so worried that someone would find out that I wasn’t quite normal that she’d drummed it into me early on that it was a bad idea for me to get close to people. Of course I knew now that I could easily keep my differences hidden but old habits were hard to break and working two jobs didn’t give me any time to go out with friends anyway.

I could hear the pub before I saw it. As I turned the corner and it came into view, I slowed my pace despite the fact that I knew it might make me late. I’d worked here ever since I’d arrived in Hull about eighteen months ago and, in that time, it had become so familiar to me that I hadn’t realised how run-down it looked.

The walls were crumbling, the old wooden window frames needed pulling out and replacing and the sign above the door which should have read “The Royal Oak” had only the R and the O remaining.

The whole place needed an entire re-vamp but the owner, Gus, saw it as work that didn’t need doing. The customers of The Royal Oak had been coming for years. It was the sort of place that nobody new would ever set foot in and that was how everybody liked it.

I pushed open the door and was greeted by a huge cloud of smoke. Gus had formed his own opinion of the smoking ban and there was even a sign up behind the bar that read, “If you have any complaints about our establishment... then you can fuck off!” Not exactly friendly but it offended nobody here, in fact Gus had received massive applause when he’d nailed it to the wall.

I could see Chris serving customers up at one end of the bar and, as it wasn’t too busy, I slipped straight into the back room to find Gus sitting behind his desk, squinting at his computer screen.

“You’ll damage your eyes if you don’t wear your glasses,” I chided. I rummaged through his stack of paperwork, found his glasses buried at the bottom and handed them to him. He scowled at me but put them on. I hid a smile. I knew he didn’t like wearing them, he thought they made him look old.

“You’re late,” he muttered as he tapped away at his keyboard.

“I’m leaving,” I said. There was no point in drawing out the conversation.

Gus looked up at me. “What?”

“Tonight will be my last shift. I’m leaving Hull.” For a moment, there was silence and I could tell Gus was thinking the situation over. Eventually he cleared his throat and stood up.

“Just going to leave us in the lurch, then?”

“Come on, Gus, I always told you this was temporary.”

“Eighteen months is a long time for ‘temporary’, but I suppose there isn’t much I can do.”

A wave of sadness swept over me. Just like The Royal Oak itself, I had got so used to seeing Gus every day that I hadn’t realised how old and tired he looked. I remembered how adamant he’d been that he wasn’t going to give me a job. It had taken me five days of sitting in the pub, from when the doors opened until they closed, to convince him to give me a chance. In our own dysfunctional way, Gus and I had a good relationship. We both liked to keep our business to ourselves which made us a good team.