Vampire's Key
Chapter Sixteen
*Can you bring Amy? And another. Understand? I require two. She has a newborn, can you get her? I need her for something special. Just, make sure you get them both. That bitch is going to get what’s been coming to her for centuries. Good. And tell Sunita we are close. Nell has the Stakes and I have the American. You can tell the spirit traveller. Sunita still has her? Good. Good.*
Lord Alexander’s words evoked more questions than answers for Lady Mortimer. Why had he said centuries? More worryingly, how and why was he in contact with a Matriarch? If he had nothing to hide, why was he being so covert? It was standard procedure to declare contact with a vampire; forms to complete, debriefs and interviews to undergo, but from his conversation it was apparent that this wasn’t the first time he’d had contact with Sarah.
Lady Mortimer checked her watch. It was a quarter past eleven, Taylor, her secretary, was due back from the archives any time now. Hopefully she would have uncovered something to shed some light on Lord Alexander’s activities.
She added some more logs to the dying fire. Fading embers welcomed the new fuel with relish and they quickly caught, their flames snatching eagerly against the soot-stained surround of the ancient fireplace.
The door burst open and a red-faced, young woman entered. She looked wet from the light, yet constant rain that regularly coated the rugged Cornish island.
“You won’t believe it!” Taylor exclaimed, a broad grin lightening her face. Closing the door behind her, she dropped her bag, unbuttoned her duffle coat and hung it on the back of the door.
“Would you like a towel?” Lady Mortimer asked, already disappearing to the bathroom.
“Yeah, thanks,” Taylor replied, removing her scarf. She spoke with an Estuary accent. It betrayed her south-eastern roots amongst the western lilt of the Cornish people.
Lady Mortimer returned with a fresh towel that felt tenderly soft and smelled of roses. “Anything on Lord Alexander?” she asked.
Taylor wiped her face dry, then flung the towel over the back of an antique chair. “No.” Smartening her pigtails, the young woman stepped closer to the fire. “That’s better,” she said, warming her hands. “Nothing on ‘im at all. Except, I did watch an old video, from years back; the 1980‘s I think. He’s aged well ‘asn’t he?”
“Aged well?” Lady Mortimer asked, as she removed the offending item and returned it to the bathroom.
“Yeah,” Taylor called out. “He kinda looks the same. I guess a lot of sea air, decent hair dye and some plastic surgery...”
“Hmm,” Lady Mortimer mused. “What was the video about?”
“Nothing much. Just an introduction for Stakes. Some hotties too, back then. I wonder what ‘appened to ‘em.”
“Anything else?” Lady Mortimer asked.
“Yeah! You’ll never guess what?” Taylor asked. She watched Lady Mortimer, eagerly awaiting her best guess.
“Go on,” Lady Mortimer said, exasperated that Taylor thought now was a good time for a game.
“Sunita’s files are missin’!”
Lady Mortimer raised her eyebrows. “Missing?”
“Yep.” Taylor nodded seriously. “And Nell’s.”
“Nell’s?” Lady Mortimer repeated. “How many?”
“All of ‘em!” Taylor exclaimed. “Not only that, but...” she grinned mischievously, “guess what?”
Lady Mortimer’s serious demeanour faltered and she smiled at the youthful elation of the 18-year-old. “Go on, what?”
“I got the stuff on the other two!”
“Amy and Sarah?”
Taylor nodded again and plonked herself down in the armchair to the right of the fire. “That’s nice and warm,” she said, still rubbing her hands together. Flames danced merrily as they fed on the blackened wood. It had already split into segments and was rapidly fading to grey.
“I was going to make a cup of tea, would you like one?”
“Nah, just water, thanks,” Taylor replied.
Lady Mortimer disappeared into the kitchen, returning after a few minutes with a glass of water for Taylor and a cup of tea for herself. She took the seat opposite Taylor, to the left of the fire. Files and papers remained scattered across the occasional table and dotted about the floor. “Please continue, Taylor.”
“Right,” Taylor began. Retrieving her tablet from her bag, she pressed her forefinger against the sensor. The main screen came to life and she pulled up her notes. “Amy and Sarah knew each other way back. When they were humans. Apparently,” she scanned the page to find the relevant passages, “Yeah, that’s right. Amy was a tenant of Sarah’s. Her husband, Robert, was an alcoholic, a gambler and visited prostitutes.” Taylor looked across at Lady Mortimer. She looked immaculate in her black skirt and white blouse. A thin, silk bow was tied neatly and hung from her neck. “All of this is from Sarah’s diary,” she said. “But—”
“Do you have it?”
Taylor’s pigtails danced as she shook her head. “Nah, it’s in the reference section. I couldn’t get it out. Harry wouldn’t let me borrow it. He said he’d get into trouble. But, I got a lot of notes and some photos.”
“Please continue, Taylor.”
Taylor nodded and looked back down at her notes. “Yeah, well, Robert Ward—Amy’s worse half—wasted all their money didn’t ‘e? Got ‘em kicked out of their cottage, caught syphilis and died.” She looked up at Lady Mortimer. “I didn’t know you could die from that.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Amy had a young daughter. Same thing ‘appened to her. The syphilis, I mean. She died as well. All of this is in Sarah’s diary.”
“Nothing about Lord Alexander?”
“No, no mention of ‘im. But then, some of the pages are missin’.”
“Missing?”
“Yeah.” Taylor scanned down her tablet. “Hold on, let me tell you what ‘appened to Sarah first. Her husband, Jonathan, had a mate called William, right? William—now this gets a bit confusin’—was a self-made millionaire, or whatever they were called back then. He married Amy’s sister. Only, Amy’s sister had been sent away somewhere, dunno where, it didn’t say. But she—Beatrice, was her name—ended up marrying this mate of Jonathan’s, William. You follow?”
“Yes, I think so. Please continue,” Lady Mortimer said, taking a now lukewarm sip of her tea.
“William was a Stake.”
“A Brother of Lazarus?”
Taylor nodded emphatically. “And he got Jonathan into it. Sarah wrote that they were always fucking off... oops, sorry...”
Lady Mortimer smiled and motioned for Taylor to carry on.
“...Goin’off for days, then weeks at a time. Sarah got well worried. She was prayin’ loads and hopin’ he’d come back and William would leave ‘em alone, so they could go back to being a happy family.” Taylor leaned forward, lowered her voice and whispered, “I think Sarah wanted a baby.” She crossed her legs and continued to scan through her notes. “Yeah, that’s right. So they come back and Jonathan is proper messed up. He’s so badly hurt he ‘as to have a leg amputated.”
“And William?”
“He disappears for a few months. Jonathan’s delirious and wild. PTSD stuff, you know? Sarah’s goin’ frantic. She’s so scared, she thinks he caught syphilis like Amy’s husband. But, eventually, William returns. He visits Jonathan and, whatever they talk about—Sarah’s not sure—Jonathan starts to make a recovery. Maybe William gave ‘im some medicine. I dunno. Her diary don’t say.”
“And where is Amy during all of this?” Lady Mortimer asked.
“No idea. There’s no mention of her after she was kicked off the farm. She couldn’t pay her rent apparently.”
“And, what happened to Jonathan and William?” Lady Mortimer asked, shocked that she had no idea that both husband’s had once been members of the organisation. “Did you look for their histories?”
“Yeah. Nothin’,” Taylor stated emphatically. “No records. Nothin’ at all.”
“I see,” Lady Mortimer said, scratching her forehead.
“Yeah, well, Lady Mortimer, Jonathan and William disappear again. Only this time, Sarah follows. Not straight away. She goes to see her friend, Beatrice—William’s wife—who tells her that the two men have gone to Bath.” Taylor raised her eyebrows, closed her notes page and looked over at Lady Mortimer.
“Is that it?”
“Yeah.”
“I see,” Lady Mortimer said.
“I figured you might want me to try and see more, so I brought this,” Taylor offered. Reaching down into her bag she pulled out a gold-plated necklace with a large ruby set against a foil back. “It was Sarah’s. Do you want me to try?”
“How did you get it?”
Taylor looked away sheepishly. “You don’t wanna know. Let’s just say Harry’s gonna be a very happy boy when I next see ‘im.”
“I see,” Lady Mortimer replied, deciding not to press the issue. “Well, yes Taylor, it’s perfect. What do you need?”
Taylor smiled. “Nothin’. Just give me a moment to tune in.” Closing her eyes, she swapped it from hand to hand, before cupping her palms together and taking a long, deep breath. She took another. Then another. “I can see Sarah in Bath. She’s there with her friend, Beatrice. Beatrice is scared. She don’t wanna do this, but Sarah insists. God...” Taylor tugged at the neck of her t-shirt, “these dresses are tight. I dunno how they wore ‘em.”
“What do you see?” Lady Mortimer asked, ensuring Taylor didn’t get distracted.
“They’re standing outside a house. It looks out of place in this rundown part of town. But it’s a nice lookin’ building. It’s big, with black wooden beams across the front. You know those old ones. Small windows with metal bars.”
“A Tudor house,” Lady Mortimer noted.
“Yeah, I guess,” Taylor replied. “Sarah’s feelin’ nervous now. I can feel her heart poundin’ against her chest. She wants to find out what’s goin’ on. She pulls Beatrice across the road. Beatrice just wants to go home. The door opens and warm, yellow light floods the wide stone steps. There’s a lioness sitting above the porch. Her claws are hangin’ over the edge. A black lady appears. She’s beautiful. Her hair’s tied back in a bun. A bit like yours.”
“Hmm… Persia?” Lady Mortimer suggested.
“Yeah, maybe...I think so. There’s a man. But he’s leavin’. He tilts his hat at the two women and strolls off down the road. He’s got a spring in his step, you know? The women stop in their tracks at the sight of Persia. She’s wearin’ a long, purple skirt and a white bodice. It just about keeps her boobs in place. Sarah hesitates, then pulls Beatrice on. Persia studies ‘em as they walk towards her. Her gaze is piercin’. She motions for them to enter. I can see her nails. They’re long, well-manicured… painted bright red. Before they know it, they’re inside. Persia shuts the door behind ‘em.
“’We’ve been waiting for some new girls,’ Persia says. She’s got a strong Jamaican accent. It startles the two women. ‘What can I do for you ladies?’ She smiles. Two long fangs hang down from the top of her mouth. But...” Taylor frowned, “...hold on, she’s got a heartbeat. That can’t be right, vampires are dead.”
“It is right, Taylor,” Lady Mortimer said. “Please continue.”
“Persia takes Sarah’s hand.” Taylor shivered. “Jeez, her hand’s cold. Sarah stares at it. It’s like she’s in shock. Persia takes Beatrice’s hand too. She leads them down a long narrow hallway into a large, ruby red drawing room. Shit!” Taylor shakes her head. “It’s really warm. There’s a fire roarin’ in the fireplace. Sarah’s finding it hard to breathe. I need fresh air.”
Taylor’s eyes remained closed as she pulled at the top of her t-shirt once more. “Her dress feels too tight. Sarah looks around the room. There are four, no, five women. Two are naked, the rest are in their underwear; you know, corset, bloomers, stockings...”
Taylor bit her lip, took a deep breath and continued. “The naked women look like sisters. They’re standing together. They’re very pretty. Their auburn hair is tied back. There’s a marble statue behind ‘em. Some goddess, a famous one.”
“Aphrodite?” Lady Mortimer suggested. “Venus?
“Venus, I think,” Taylor replied. “Yeah, Venus. And her nymphs. Some of the women are seated on those funny lookin’ sofas.”
“Chaise longues?”
“Yeah. In front of a fire. On one side, a blonde girl rests her legs on the lap of the small, dark-haired woman who sits beside her. Shit! It’s Amy! I’m sure of it! The blonde wears a corset and bloomers. ‘Lady patrons or new girls?’ she asks.”
“‘We’ll soon see, my dears,’ Persia replies. She closed the door behind her.”
“How does Amy react?” Lady Mortimer asked.
Taylor focused her mind on the dark-haired vampire. “They don’t recognise her,” she said finally. “Amy’s angry. She tells them who she is.”
“And what do they say?”
“They’re surprised. But also, scared. It’s… scandalous, that’s what Sarah’s thinking. They can sense something’s not right about these women. Everything feels so tense, like the room’s about to explode. No, wait...”
Lady Mortimer stared at Taylor, whose forehead creased tightly.
“There’s shouts and screams,” Taylor continued. “Not from the room. Somewhere else. In the house. They’re followed by...” Taylor’s shoulders hunched forward and her face wrinkled as her mind tapped into sights and sounds from long ago. “Oh God! There’s a horrible, high-pitched shrieking. It fills the house. The women start shrieking, only it’s not shrieking, it’s... it’s this loud clicking... Oh, I can’t do this. I can’t...” Her hands tightened around the necklace, moulding its shape into her palms.
“Taylor,” Lady Mortimer said. “Focus on Sarah. All you need to do is to focus on Sarah.” Her voice softened, slowing down to soothe the anxious psychic. “Just focus on Sarah.”
“Sarah. Yeah, Sarah.” Taylor sat back into her chair. Her grip on the necklace eased and she ran her thumb over the hard, cool surface of the ruby. Gradually, her shoulders and face relaxed and she focused her mind on Sarah once more. “Sarah’s standing between the two chaise longues. She jumps as the door bursts open. Two men enter; Jonathan and William. They ‘ave stakes and swords and crosses. Jonathan is on a crutch, but he’s still fast. The bottom of it’s been sharpened. He swings it around, threatenin’ the women. The girls by the statue charge at the men. They’re screamin’ as they attack...
“William cuts the head off the first one...” Taylor swallowed and shook her head.
“It’s okay,” Lady Mortimer said softly, “you’re okay, Taylor. What do you see?”
Taylor nodded nervously and continued. “It’s horrid. Her head hits a table. It knocks over a vase of flowers. They take forever to fall to the floor. The head rolls along the carpet comin’ to a stop at Beatrice’s feet. Beatrice screams. Fuck, she’s lost it.”
Tears trickled down Taylor’s cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, still tightly clutching the necklace.
“’Beatrice?' William shouts. He didn’t expect to see her. Persia’s beside him before he can finish his sentence. She rips his sword from his hand and throws him across the room. He smashes into the far wall. He’s dazed and coughin’ as he catches his breath.
Jonathan is slashing at the second vampire. He keeps ‘er at bay and manages to stab Persia in the back with a stake. She screams. God, it’s an awful sound. Like in a horror film.”
“Keep going,” Lady Mortimer prompted.
“He tries to get ‘er again... with his crutch. But she rips it from his hand. He reaches for the doorframe, steadying ‘imself. The other vampire charges at ‘im. They fall to the floor, struggling like wrestlers.
‘Jonathan!’ Sarah calls out. She runs towards him, but Amy is up and has her in her arms. She spins her around and throws her onto the chaise longue.
Persia’s screams fill the room. She’s runnin’ around, desperate for the stake to be removed. Blood oozes from the wound, staining her white blouse.
Beatrice tries to reach William, but the blonde girl stops ‘er. She throws Beatrice to the floor, rips her dress open, exposing her boobs and bites her throat. The last vampire joins her. She pulls up Beatrice’s skirt and bites her thigh. Beatrice screams. The vampires bite her again and again. Blood is everywhere. God, it’s horrid. I feel sick.”
“Remember to focus on Sarah, Taylor,” Lady Mortimer whispered.
“Yeah, Sarah,” Taylor replied, coiling the chain around her fingers and cupping the ruby in her right hand. “She’s trapped under Amy. It’s like Amy is deliberating, whether she is going to feed, kill or turn.
She hears Jonathan’s struggle with the other vampire come to an end. He gets up and hobbles over to where Amy is holding Sarah in place. He don’t see a figure walking slowly into the room behind ‘im. She’s dark-haired and beautiful. She walks really slowly. It feels like she’s out of time. You know. Like time isn’t the same for her. I dunno. It’s weird.”
“Nell?”
Taylor nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Persia’s still screamin’. The dark-haired vampire pulls the stake from her back and offers Persia her wrist. She takes it and drinks quickly. She’s gorgin’ herself. It sounds ‘orrid. Like a pig slurpin’ from a trough. Her back heals straight away. She stands up. ‘Stake bastards,’ she says.
Jonathan swings ‘is crutch at her again. She grabs it, pulls him forward and bites him. Her hand reaches for his balls and she squeezes them tight.” Taylor winced and pulled her thighs tightly together. “Poor guy.”
Sarah shouts for Persia to leave him alone. Persia shoves him real hard. He collapses into Nell’s arms. She bites his neck. He struggles, tried to get ‘er off, but she tighten’s ‘er grip.
Sarah shakes her ‘ead. Amy rips her dress open and bites her tit. Persia drops to the floor. Kneeling beside her, she bites Sarah’s neck. Sarah stares at the bloody mess of Beatrice. William’s eye’s stare back at her from his severed head.
Persia cuts her wrist and pushes it into Sarah’s mouth. “No,” Amy says.
Persia smiles and says, ‘Yes.’ She forces Sarah to drink her blood.
Sarah hears the thud of a body as it hits the floor. It slumps over Beatrice. Sarah’s screams are muffled by the force of Persia’s wrist and blood. She stares at the grey face of ‘er dead husband. Oh, God...”
The tears returned, tumbling down Taylor’s face as her mind tapped into the events of Sarah’s turning. “It’s frozen in ‘er mind. This moment. Her birth. His death. The bloody mess of Beatrice and William. It’s like she’s stuck there.”
Taylor opened her eyes. The chain from the necklace swung like a hangman’s noose. “Sorry,” she said, looking briefly at Lady Mortimer. “That was really intense.”
“Are you alright?” Lady Mortimer asked, passing her a box of tissues.
“I’ll be okay,” Taylor replied, pulling a tissue from the box. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then got up and threw the tissue into the fire. It caught and disappeared almost instantly.
“You are far more psychic than you realise, Taylor,” Lady Mortimer praised, stopping the recording on her phone. “You’re a very special asset. Even if Lord Alexander…” she paused, smiled to herself and added, “Well, never mind about him.”
“Thanks,” Taylor replied. She paused to take a long drink from her glass of water. “It was more intense than I thought it would be. But, I don’t get it…”
“What?” Lady asked.
“I don’t get why they ‘ave heartbeats? I thought they were dead?”
“They are, but, in order to function they need to pump the blood around their body. You see, the vampires of the Sisters of Annis are energy vampires. Of course, they drink blood, but the blood serves as the method of transportation for the energy beyond. It is this energy that brings them back when they should technically be dead. It is the vampires heart that ensures they are able to operate in our world. Anyway,” Lady Mortimer smiled and held out her hand for Sarah’s jewellery. Taylor passed it to the lady, who examined it before placing it on the table beside her. “You must be tired.”
“Yeah,” Taylor said. “I’m done in.”
“Yes,” Lady Mortimer agreed. “It takes a toll. That is why vampires use other sources for their astral viewing.”
“Other sources?”
“They are not very savoury,” Lady Mortimer responded, getting up herself. “Blood, orgasm, or denied orgasm… would you like a tea or coffee?”
“I think, if it’s okay,” Taylor began as she checked her phone, “I’m gonna head home. I’ve still got a few minutes before the causeway is lost to the tide. I don’t wanna be stuck on the island for the rest of the day.”
“Of course, you’ve been a great help, Taylor. You really have. We’ve filled in some gaps,” Lady Mortimer said, “but there are many more to uncover. Thank you.”
Taylor’s smile was lost to a yawn. “No problem.”
“Go get some rest, young lady,” Lady Mortimer suggested. “And, Taylor, let’s keep this between us, okay?”
Taylor nodded again, then packed away her things, pulled on her coat and scarf and headed out of Lady Mortimer’s office. Closing the door behind the young psychic, Lady Mortimer paused to lean back against the door.
She’d established that Sarah and Amy went back to the time of the Regency. And while Amy had fed on Sarah, Sarah was actually a daughter of Persia. And Persia’s lineage was from Sunita, not Nell. That made Sarah a sister of a different clan to Amy. That was one thing, but Sarah had been traumatised by her turning. As for Lord Alexander... where did he fit in all of this and why exactly was he involved with Sarah and Sunita? Who was the spirit traveller and what use was it for this person to know that he had the American? Whatever she did, she knew she had to find out more from Adrian. But, how safe was it to question him? At least, Lord Alexander didn’t know she had heard him, or did he?
Vampire’s Key
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